Catholic Metanarrative

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Wednesday Liturgy: What "Consubstantial" Means

ROME, SEPT. 28, 2010 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.


Q: My question is about the meaning of the word "consubstantial," which we are now told we must use in the Creed. I am asking you to give an explanation of its meaning in ordinary English which parishioners can understand. I have tried to give the theological meaning to people, but without success. The problem seems to lie in the ordinary meaning of the English word "substance," which usually refers to the material substance of an object. If I ask people, "What would you say is the substance of this table?" they inevitably answer that the table is made of wood. Similarly if the chair in front of the table is made of wood, they will say that it has the same substance. In other words the chair and the table are "consubstantial" with each other. I know that the ancient Greek philosophical meaning is different, but I am looking for words that can explain the liturgical term in simple English. Most of my parishioners are people for whom English is a second language, and they don't know any Greek philosophy. -- J.F., Pietermaritzburg, South Africa

A: I don't think this difficulty is confined to those who have English as a second language. Quite a few English speakers, not to mention a few theologians, struggle with "substance."

Before addressing the question directly I think we need to recall that the Nicene-Constantinople Creed, although based on a baptismal profession of faith, was not originally composed with liturgical recitation in mind. It was not introduced into the Mass until several centuries later.

The conciliar fathers responded to heresies denying Christ's divinity with precise expressions that left no room for doubt or equivocation regarding what Christians believed. At times this required coining new, non-biblical terms such as consubstantial to assure technical precision. As the Catechism explains:

"464. The unique and altogether singular event of the Incarnation of the Son of God does not mean that Jesus Christ is part God and part man, nor does it imply that he is the result of a confused mixture of the divine and the human. He became truly man while remaining truly God. Jesus Christ is true God and true man. During the first centuries, the Church had to defend and clarify this truth of faith against the heresies that falsified it.

"465. The first heresies denied not so much Christ's divinity as his true humanity (Gnostic Docetism). From apostolic times the Christian faith has insisted on the true incarnation of God's Son 'come in the flesh.' But already in the third century, the Church in a council at Antioch had to affirm against Paul of Samosata that Jesus Christ is Son of God by nature and not by adoption. The first ecumenical council of Nicaea in 325 confessed in its Creed that the Son of God is 'begotten, not made, of the same substance (homoousios) as the Father,' and condemned Arius, who had affirmed that the Son of God 'came to be from things that were not' and that he was 'from another substance' than that of the Father."

Other complex concepts, such as the procession of the Holy Spirit from the Father and the Son, are likewise conundrums for catechists and scholars alike. In short, the creed was never meant to be simple and will always require explaining its doctrinal and historical context.

While consubstantial is an obscure word, its current rendering as "one in Being" also requires some elementary metaphysics and is perhaps not entirely accurate. As Russell Shaw recently pointed out: "For one thing, the supposed clarity of 'Being' is delusory. Being as we understand it -- the being of ourselves and other created things -- is only an analogical participation in the subsistent being of God. Yet the translation's non-specific and undifferentiated application of the word 'being' to God sweeps this huge difference aside. We get the appearance of clarity at the expense of accuracy, and in a creed that won't do.

"For another thing, the current translation to the contrary notwithstanding, 'being' and 'substance' aren't the same thing. Being means 'existence.' And while one trembles at the challenge of trying to say in a few words what 'substance' means as a term in metaphysics, it signifies something like the unique, singular identity of a thing."

There seems, therefore, to be no way of avoiding the need to delve into philosophy, history and theology when explaining the creed.

One text that might help clarify the concept is that of the Council of Chalcedon in 451. In this text the word consubstantial refers to Christ in two ways:

"We, then, following the holy Fathers, all with one consent, teach people to confess one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, the same perfect in Godhead and also perfect in manhood; truly God and truly man, of a reasonable [rational] soul and body; consubstantial [co-essential] with the Father according to the Godhead, and consubstantial with us according to the Manhood; in all things like unto us, without sin; begotten before all ages of the Father according to the Godhead, and in these latter days, for us and for our salvation, born of the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God, according to the Manhood; one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, only begotten, to be acknowledged in two natures, inconfusedly, unchangeably, indivisibly, inseparably; the distinction of natures being by no means taken away by the union, but rather the property of each nature being preserved, and concurring in one Person and one Subsistence, not parted or divided into two persons, but one and the same Son, and only begotten, God the Word, the Lord Jesus Christ; as the prophets from the beginning [have declared] concerning Him, and the Lord Jesus Christ Himself has taught us, and the Creed of the holy Fathers has handed down to us."

Chalcedon's double use of consubstantial, with God and us, could help clarify its meaning in the Nicene Creed. It is perhaps easier for people to overcome the limited idea of substance mentioned by our reader by starting from Our Lord as consubstantial with us. That is, he shares with us that unique singular identity which makes us human beings. From here one could go back to the divinity. Since the creed affirms that "We believe in one God, the Father," and later that Christ is consubstantial with the Father, then "consubstantial" means that both Father and Son possess the unique singular divine identity.

The fact that the Holy Spirit also possesses this unique singular divine identity leads us into Trinitarian theology of three Persons in one God, but that would require a treatise way beyond the scope of the present article.

The creed does not use consubstantial in referring to the Holy Spirit. This is probably due to the particular historical development of the creed, which responded directly to Christological heresies and did not initially develop the theology of the Holy Spirit.

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: "And With Your Spirit"

ROME, SEPT. 28, 2010 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.


After our explanation of the reason behind the response "And with your spirit" (see Sept. 14), a Missouri reader respectfully disagreed with my comment that the current translation, "And also with you," was a fairly accurate rendering of the Hebrew.

Although this point was not the main thrust of our earlier article, I believe that our reader's comments offer a valid complement. To wit: "According to an article by Paulinus Milner, 'Et Cum Spiritu Tuo,' in Studies in Pastoral Liturgy, Volume 3, edited by Placid Murray, OSB (Dublin: The Furrow Trust, 1967), the Hebrew word nephesh means soul or spirit, but can also mean self. The closest examples we have of this translation into a Semitic language, however, does not use the equivalent of nephesh but rather ruah, which only means breath or spirit (cf. the Syriac translation of The Apostolic Tradition). Plus, the Greek pneuma is never used in the LXX [the Septuagint] to render the Hebrew nephesh, but ruah. Therefore, 'And also with you' is [not] an accurate rendering of the Hebrew background to this liturgical phrase."

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Article: Gestures of Worship: Relearning Our Ritual Language

HELEN HULL HITCHCOCK

When our daughter Alexandra was a toddler, we attended the Methodist church with my parents one Sunday morning. She preceded us down the aisle and genuflected deeply and crossed herself before entering the pew, as she did every Sunday at church — eliciting amused smiles from the grownups.

But, of course, it had never occurred to her not to genuflect before entering the pew. It was a habit she learned early, even if she did not understand the reason for her gesture of reverence.

On another occasion, a cousin was visiting us with her two little girls, and we were all kneeling in our pew before Mass began, praying the Rosary. The two-year-old knelt with us, and suddenly began to cry. I had a hunch what was the matter – so I handed her a Rosary. She was instantly calm, and began to finger the beads, her head bowed reverently. Though she was far too young to know what the Rosary was, or the reason we were kneeling in prayer before Mass, she did understand that it was important, and she wanted to be a part of it.

These tiny children did not and could not understand fully the symbolism of what they did, of course. Nevertheless, their desire to express reverence as they had seen others do was beyond question. If inchoate, their acts of worship were no less powerfully expressive.


Ritual Signs and Gestures

In Sacramentum Caritatis, Pope Benedict stressed the need for formation and instruction about the Sacred Mysteries of the Eucharist ("mystagogical catechesis"), so that Catholic people will more fully understand and be able to unite themselves interiorly with the action of the Eucharist. The Holy Father specifically mentions signs and gestures.

The Church's great liturgical tradition teaches us that fruitful participation in the liturgy requires that one be personally conformed to the mystery being celebrated, offering one's life to God in unity with the sacrifice of Christ for the salvation of the whole world. For this reason, the Synod of Bishops asked that the faithful be helped to make their interior dispositions correspond to their gestures and words. Otherwise, however carefully planned and executed our liturgies may be, they would risk falling into a certain ritualism. Hence the need to provide an education in eucharistic faith capable of enabling the faithful to live personally what they celebrate.... (§64)

Part of this instruction about the mystery of the Eucharist, the pope writes, involves the meaning of ritual gestures:

A mystagogical catechesis must also be concerned with presenting the meaning of the signs contained in the rites. This is particularly important in a highly technological age like our own, which risks losing the ability to appreciate signs and symbols. More than simply conveying information, a mystagogical catechesis should be capable of making the faithful more sensitive to the language of signs and gestures which, together with the word, make up the rite. (§64, b. Original emphasis.)

One of the mistakes in implementing the liturgical changes following the Second Vatican Council was downplaying, often eliminating, traditional gestures of Catholic ritual – physical actions that express our faith. Exactly why this happened is not easy to explain, but one reason was a kind of super-rational approach to worship that prevailed in the years following the Council. Some thought that such ritual gestures as kneeling, genuflecting, bowing, making the sign of the cross, and striking the breast were mindless habits without real meaning, empty gestures possibly tainted with superstition. Many liturgists (and priests and catechists) stressed understanding the "why" of everything we do in worship – which is a good idea in itself, but when overemphasized it can (and often did) lead to rejecting anything one does not completely understand: if I don't get it, I won't do it. According to this view, the rational always trumps the ritual.

Some liturgists viewed the bodily actions that had traditionally accompanied Catholic worship as examples of the "vain repetition" that Protestants criticized (another example is the Rosary, with its repeated prayers), so eliminating the "meaningless" bodily actions of Catholic worship was considered a nod toward ecumenism.

A misguided view of "updating" Catholic worship also led to the elimination of these distinctive symbolic actions, which were no longer seen as an integration of body and soul in authentic worship. Lost in all this was the idea that these bodily actions express both a personal and communal response to the Mystery of Faith and to the sacramental world the Liturgy represents – and that these actions are a means of uniting all believers with the sacramental life of the Church. Instead, they were thought to be prompted only by subjective piety and an overly sentimental sense of devotion. Many liturgists had come to regard these ritual gestures as liturgical debris accumulated over the centuries – debris that obscured the pure form of Christian worship and that needed to be removed. The result gives a new meaning to "ritual cleansing".

Another contributing factor was that before the Council some gestures – such as striking the breast during the Confiteor ("mea culpa" -"through my fault") or at the "Domine non sum dignus" ("Lord, I am not worthy") just before Communion – were not made by the congregation. These prayers were said inaudibly by clergy and altar servers only, and only they made these gestures. After the Council, when the vernacular translation changed these prayers and eliminated the triple repetitions, the accompanying gestures were simply discontinued, even those explicitly indicated in the rubrics. Thus, lacking the example of the priests and servers, the people in the congregation never took up this practice.

Only a few ritual gestures by the people remain in general practice today. Among these few are making the sign of the cross with holy water when entering or leaving the church, genuflecting before entering or leaving the pew, and kneeling briefly in prayer before Mass begins.

Some gestures of the people were explicitly included in the revised liturgical books: striking the breast during the Confiteor (at "through my fault"), bowing or genuflecting during the Creed at the Incarnatus ("and was made man") and making a gesture of reverence (often the sign of the cross) before receiving Communion while standing. But these rubrics were generally ignored, and none of these gestures were commonly observed in Catholic parishes. Even the gesture of reverence before receiving Communion, though this is specifically mentioned in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, is by no means universally observed – not even after the emphasis the US bishops gave this in 2002, by deciding that "a simple bow of the head" fulfills this requirement.

The origin of most of these symbolic gestures that are integral to Catholic worship – a wordless liturgical language – is, in many cases, lost in history. A basic vocabulary would include genuflecting toward the altar and tabernacle, bowing the head at the name of Jesus and when the names of the Trinity are pronounced (the Doxology, or "Glory be…"), along with bowing toward the crucifix, striking the breast and making the sign of the cross. They do have meaning and significance as powerful signs of worship even if the way this happens is only dimly understood.

The vocabulary of ritual gestures Catholics make during worship is by now, quite clearly, endangered – as has happened with other unwritten languages. As there are relatively few explicit rules (and even these are often not followed), little uniformity of practice, and considerable confusion, it seems worthwhile to compile a sort of "dictionary" of ritual gestures, their meaning and grammar, in order to relearn our historic language of ritual worship.


Bowing at the Name of Jesus

The origin of bowing the head at the mention of the Holy Name of Jesus is scriptural, found in Philippians 2:10: "That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth". This bow was mandated at the Second Ecumenical Council of Lyons convened by Pope Gregory X in 1274:

Those who assemble in church should extol with an act of special reverence that Name which is above every Name, than which no other under Heaven has been given to people, in which believers must be saved, the Name, that is, of Jesus Christ, Who will save His people from their sins. Each should fulfill in himself that which is written for all, that at the Name of Jesus every knee should bow; whenever that glorious Name is recalled, especially during the sacred Mysteries of the Mass, everyone should bow the knees of his heart, which he can do even by a bow of his head. (Constitutions §25)


The Sign of the Cross

One of the principal gestures of Christian worship is the sign of the cross – tracing the cross on our body by touching our head, abdomen, left and right shoulder signifies our salvation through Christ's sacrifice on the cross, a reminder of our baptism, and of our commitment to Christ. It is also a sign of our worship of the triune God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. (In the Orthodox churches, the sign of the cross is made with the thumb and first two fingers together, symbolic of the Trinity, and the right shoulder is touched before the left shoulder.)

A mystagogical catechesis must also be concerned with presenting the meaning of the signs contained in the rites. This is particularly important in a highly technological age like our own, which risks losing the ability to appreciate signs and symbols.

For this reason, we make the sign of the cross whenever the sacred name of God (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) is invoked, either in acclamation or blessing or absolution. We make the sign of the cross following the confession of sins, because the absolution is made in the name of the Trinity and because it is the cross of Christ that makes possible our forgiveness. Making the sign of the cross before and after we receive Communion signifies that in the sacrament of the Eucharist, we recognize Christ crucified, risen, and present with us. We make the sign of the cross at the blessing at the very end of the liturgy because the blessing is made in the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Father Romano Guardini's little book Sacred Signs described some of these gestures in detail: kneeling, folding the hands, striking the breast, standing, even walking.

The sign of the cross, Father Guardini explains, is the "Sign of the universe and the sign of our redemption".

On the cross Christ redeemed mankind. By the cross He sanctifies man to the last shred and fiber of his being. We make the sign of the cross before we pray to collect and compose ourselves and to fix our minds and hearts and wills upon God. We make it when we finish praying in order that we may hold fast the gift we have received from God. In temptations we sign ourselves to be strengthened; in dangers, to be protected. The cross is signed upon us in blessings in order that the fullness of God's life may flow into the soul and fructify and sanctify us wholly.

Think of these things when you make the sign of the cross. It is the holiest of all signs. Make a large cross, taking time, thinking what you do. Let it take in your whole being – body, soul, mind, will, thoughts, feelings, your doing and not-doing – and by signing it with the cross strengthen and consecrate the whole in the strength of Christ, in the name of the triune God.


Striking the Breast

The gesture of striking the breast expresses sorrow, unworthiness, extreme humility. For Christians, this ritual gesture expresses our contrition, our sense of sinfulness and unworthiness before God.

Father Guardini also sees in this gesture an interior meaning that calls us to repentance: "To strike the breast is to beat against the gates of our inner world in order to shatter them", he writes. "The blow also is to wake us up. It is to shake the soul awake into the consciousness that God is calling…. She reflects, repents and is contrite".


Kneeling

Kneeling is an almost universal ritual gesture of homage, honor, reverence and worship. There are many, many biblical references to kneeling in both the Old and New Testaments, and these passages reveal that the gesture of kneeling is a very ancient, multivalent sign that expresses worship, respect, willing obedience, prayer, reverence, petition, supplication and homage. Kneeling has from time immemorial been a customary ritual posture in both public and private worship. (For a list of biblical citations, see "Why don't they want us to kneel at Mass?" AB, April 2002.)

As Bishop Thomas Olmsted observed in his article "Knees to Love Christ" (AB, May 2005), "What we do with our knees gives evidence of what we believe in our hearts.

When we kneel down beside the bed of a dying person, when we stand up for the dignity of the unborn child, when we genuflect before Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, we say louder than any rhetoric what matters most in our lives. Knees express what we believe and make clear what we will live and die for.

Not surprisingly, then, knees play an important role in the Church's Sacred Liturgy, especially during the season of Lent. What we do with our knees during worship is anything but trivial. It rivals in importance what we do with our voices and our ears, what we do with our hands and our hearts.

Although kneeling, especially during the Consecration and just before receiving Communion, has been customary practice in most parishes in the United States, this gesture has also been the source of some confusion and misunderstanding, as surfaced in extensive discussions in the US bishops' conferences in the late 1990s. Before the Council people generally knelt throughout the entire Low Mass.

In his chapter "The Body and the Liturgy" from The Spirit of the Liturgy, then-Cardinal Ratzinger describes in some detail the various forms of kneeling, their biblical origins and meanings. He also observed:

Kneeling does not come from any culture – it comes from the Bible and its knowledge of God. The central importance of kneeling in the Bible can be seen in a very concrete way. The word proskynein alone occurs fifty-nine times in the New Testament, twenty-four of which are in the Apocalypse, the book of the heavenly Liturgy, which is presented to the Church as the standard for her own Liturgy.[…]

It may well be that kneeling is alien to modern culture – insofar as it is a culture, for this culture has turned away from the faith and no longer knows the One before whom kneeling is the right, indeed the intrinsically necessary gesture. The man who learns to believe learns also to kneel, and a faith or a liturgy no longer familiar with kneeling would be sick at the core. Where it has been lost, kneeling must be rediscovered, so that, in our prayer, we remain in fellowship with the apostles and martyrs, in fellowship with the whole cosmos, indeed in union with Jesus Christ Himself.


Relearning Ritual Language

Though ritual gestures are intrinsically acts by which all people physically express worship (an external and visible sign of an internal and spiritual reality), the ritual gestures that appear in the Roman Missal directives, with a few exceptions, apply to clergy. Even in the current revised liturgical books there are very few indications of ritual gestures for the people – although this may seem ironic in light of the strong emphasis placed on "active participation" of the people at Mass in the liturgical reform both before and after the Council.

In the years preceding the Council, personal Missals were produced for people to use during Mass. These Missals reflect the efforts of the Liturgical Movement to advance the laity's understanding of the Church's liturgy, and to intensify their experience of the sacred action. The Missals included texts in both Latin and in English translation, in order to enhance worshippers' understanding of the Mass. They often included at least some specific gestures for the laity, which were usually the same as those made by the clergy or altar servers.

In the popular 1961 Maryknoll Missal, for example, some indications are given for the congregation's gestures, especially during a "dialogue" Mass, in which the people made responses and said the Creed, the Sanctus, Pater Noster, Agnus Dei, etc. But there was no uniformity among the different editions of these Missals.

Considering the variations, and that custom had been the only "rule" governing ritual actions of the laity at Mass, perhaps it is not surprising that inserting "rubrics for the people" that would have specified their gestures of reverence during the Mass was almost entirely neglected in the new liturgical books following the Council. This remains so today.

Yet the Council's Constitution on the Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium, had explicitly stressed the importance of this aspect of the liturgical reform.

As we read in the first chapter of Sacrosanctum Concilium, active participation expressly includes "actions, gestures, and bodily attitudes". Moreover, rubrics are to be provided for the people's parts.

30. To promote active participation, the people should be encouraged to take part by means of acclamations, responses, psalmody, antiphons, and songs, as well as by actions, gestures, and bodily attitudes. And at the proper times all should observe a reverent silence.

31. The revision of the liturgical books must carefully attend to the provision of rubrics also for the people's parts. (In libris liturgicis recognoscendis, sedulo attendatur ut rubricae etiam partes fidelium praevideant.)

Though the revised liturgical books largely neglected rubrics for the congregation's gestures during Mass, their principal postures (standing, sitting, kneeling) are specified in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal:

§43. The faithful should stand from the beginning of the Entrance chant, or while the priest approaches the altar, until the end of the Collect; for the Alleluia chant before the Gospel; while the Gospel itself is proclaimed; during the Profession of Faith and the Prayer of the Faithful; from the invitation, Orate, fratres (Pray, brethren), before the prayer over the offerings until the end of Mass, except at the places indicated below.

They should, however, sit while the readings before the Gospel and the responsorial Psalm are proclaimed and for the homily and while the Preparation of the Gifts at the Offertory is taking place; and, as circumstances allow, they may sit or kneel while the period of sacred silence after Communion is observed.

In the dioceses of the United States of America, they should kneel beginning after the singing or recitation of the Sanctus until after the Amen of the Eucharistic Prayer, except when prevented on occasion by reasons of health, lack of space, the large number of people present, or some other good reason. Those who do not kneel ought to make a profound bow when the priest genuflects after the consecration. The faithful kneel after the Agnus Dei unless the Diocesan Bishop determines otherwise.

The GIRM also directs:

When the Entrance chant is concluded, the priest stands at the chair and, together with the whole gathering, makes the Sign of the Cross. (§50)

The ritual gestures we make during worship are, as Father Guardini observed, "a form of speech by which the plain realities of the body say to God what its soul means and intends".

Concerning the gesture of reverence to be made by each person before receiving Holy Communion: though this directive was included in the earlier GIRM, it was neither widely nor uniformly observed. Some people made the sign of the cross and/or genuflected before they received. Most did nothing. For most people, this was a new idea. When standing to receive Communion became the norm, rather than kneeling, there was no effort to explain to the people that making a sign of reverence as we are about to receive the Body of Christ should be retained – even though this sign would no longer be kneeling.

In the current GIRM there is an "American adaptation" to §160 that is more specific:

When receiving Holy Communion, the communicant bows his or her head before the Sacrament as a gesture of reverence and receives the Body of the Lord from the minister. The consecrated host may be received either on the tongue or in the hand, at the discretion of each communicant. When Holy Communion is received under both kinds, the sign of reverence is also made before receiving the Precious Blood.

There has been an encouraging increase in people's practice of making a gesture of reverence before receiving Communion since this was emphasized by the bishops when the new version of the GIRM came into effect. However, nearly seven years later, it is by no means universally observed. So there is more teaching and learning to be done. The list of gestures and postures that accompanies this article is intended to provide a useful review.

The ritual gestures we make during worship are, as Father Guardini observed, "a form of speech by which the plain realities of the body say to God what its soul means and intends".

By our ritual gestures – this "body language" – we unite the physical and mental/spiritual aspects of our worship of the Lord, and express our unity with Him with our entire being. Recalling this may help remind each of us to make the effort to restore this ineffable and powerful "form of speech" in our own acts of worship. With our bodies and our minds united, we express our love for Christ and witness to others His love for all.


Bibliography and Resources

Pope Benedict XVI, Sacramentum Caritatis, Apostolic Exhortation following the Synod on the Eucharist, February 22, 2007.

Father Romano Guardini, Sacred Signs. English translation. St. Louis: Pio Decimo Press, 1956. Accessible online: www.cfpeople.org/Books/Sacred/CFPtoc.htm. Also: www.ewtn.com/library/LITURGY/SACRSIGN.TXT.

Father Cassian Folsom, OSB, "Sacred Signs and Active Participation at Mass", AB May 1998, Father Folsom's article makes use of Father Guardini's monograph.

Helen Hull Hitchcock and Susan Benofy, "Every Knee should bow – but when?" AB June 1999.

Helen Hull Hitchcock, "Why don't they want us to kneel at Mass?", AB April 2002. (Contains citations from Old and New Testaments on kneeling.)

Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, "The Theology of Kneeling", from The Spirit of the Liturgy (Ignatius Press, 2000), AB November 2002.

Bishop Thomas Olmsted, "Knees to Love Christ", AB May 2005.

Congregation for Divine Worship: Responses on kneeling to receive Communion, AB December 2002-January 2003.

See also Adoremus web section on Gesture and Posture.


Gestures and Postures of the Congregation at Mass

Entrance Rites

Make the sign of the cross with holy water (a sign of baptism) upon entering the church.

Genuflect toward the tabernacle containing the Blessed Sacrament and the Altar of Sacrifice before entering the pew. (If there is no tabernacle in the sanctuary, or it is not visible, bow deeply, from the waist, toward the altar before entering the pew.)

Kneel upon entering the pew for private prayer before Mass begins.

Stand for the entrance procession.

Bow when the crucifix, a visible symbol of Christ's sacrifice, passes you in the procession. (If there is a bishop, bow when he passes, as a sign of recognition that he represents the authority of the Church and of Christ as shepherd of the flock.)

Remain standing for the entrance rites. Make the sign of the cross with the priest at the beginning of Mass.

Strike your breast at the "mea culpa(s)" ("through my fault") in the Confiteor.

Bow and make the sign of the cross when the priest says "May Almighty God have mercy…"

Bow your head when you say "Lord, have mercy" during the Kyrie.

If there is a Rite of Sprinkling (Asperges), make the sign of the cross when the priest sprinkles water from the aspergillum in your direction.

Throughout the Mass, bow your head at every mention of the name of Jesus and every time the Doxology ["Glory be"] is spoken or sung. Also when asking the Lord to receive our prayer.

Gloria: bow your head at the name of Jesus. ("Lord Jesus Christ, only begotten Son…", "You alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ…" )


Liturgy of the Word

Sit for the Scripture readings.

Stand for the Gospel at the Alleluia verse.

When the priest announces the Gospel, trace a cross with the thumb on head, lips and heart. This gesture is a form of prayer for the presence of the Word of God in one's mind, upon one's lips, and in one's heart.

Sit for the homily.

Creed: Stand; bow your head at name of Jesus; on most Sundays bow during the Incarnatus ("by the power of the Holy Spirit … and was made man"); on the solemnities of Christmas and the Annunciation all genuflect at this moment.

Make the sign of the Cross at the conclusion of the Creed at the words "I believe in the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen."


Liturgy of the Eucharist

Sit during the offertory.

Stand as the priest says "Pray brethren that our sacrifice…" and remain standing to respond, "May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands…"

If incense is used, the congregation bows toward the thurifer when he bows to the congregation both before and after he has incensed them.

The congregation remains standing until the end of the Sanctus ("Holy, holy"), when they kneel for the entire Eucharistic Prayer.

At the moment of the Consecration of each element, bow the head and say silently "My Lord and my God", acknowledging the Presence of Christ on the altar. These are the words of Saint Thomas when he realized that it was truly Christ who stood before him (John 20:28). Jesus responded, "Because you have seen me, you believed. Blessed are they that do not see and yet have believed" (John 20:29).

Stand at the priest's invitation to recite the Lord's Prayer.

Reverently fold your hands and bow your head as you pray the Lord's Prayer.

Remain standing to exchange the sign of peace, if the invitation is made. (The sign of peace may be either a handshake or a bow of the head towards those nearest you, accompanied by the words "Peace be with you".)

In reciting (or singing) the Agnus Dei ("Lamb of God…"), strike the breast at the words "Have mercy upon us".

Kneel at the end of the Agnus Dei ("Lamb of God…").

Bow your head and strike your breast as you say, Domine non sum dignus... (Lord, I am not worthy...)


Reception of Communion

Leave the pew (without genuflecting) and walk reverently toward the altar, with hands folded in prayer.

Make a gesture of reverence as you approach the priest in procession to receive Communion. If you are kneeling at the Communion rail, no additional gesture is made before receiving.

You may receive the host either on the tongue or in the hand.

If the former, open your mouth and extend your tongue, so the priest can place the Host properly. If the latter, place one hand over the other hand, palms open, to receive the Host. With the lower hand, take the Host and reverently place it in your mouth. (See Holy See's 1985 directives).

If you are carrying a child, it is much less awkward to receive on the tongue.

If you also receive from the chalice, make the same gesture of reverence when you approach the minister to receive.

Make the sign of the cross after you have received Communion.

Kneel in prayer when you return to your pew after Communion, until the priest sits down, or until he says "Let us pray". (GIRM 160 American adaptation says that people may "stand, sit or kneel".)


Conclusion of Mass

Stand for the concluding prayers.

Make the sign of the cross at the final blessing, as the priest invokes the Trinity.

Remain standing until all ministers have processed out. (If there is a recessional, bow in reverence to the crucifix as it passes by.)

If there is a hymn for the recessional, remain standing in your pew until it concludes. If there is no concluding hymn, remain in your pew until all the ministers have gone out of the main body of the church.

After the Mass is concluded, you may kneel for a private prayer of thanksgiving.

Genuflect reverently toward the Blessed Sacrament and the Altar of Sacrifice as you leave the pew, and leave the nave (main body) of the church in silence.

Make the sign of the cross with holy water as you leave the church, a reminder of our baptismal obligation to carry Christ's Gospel into the world.

"Gestures and Postures of the Congregation at Mass" is now available in PDF format



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Helen Hull Hitchcock. "Gestures of Worship: Relearning Our Ritual Language." Adoremus Bulletin (February, 2010).

The Adoremus Bulletin, a liturgical journal published by Adoremus: Society for the Renewal of the Sacred Liturgy, is dedicated to the authentic renewal of the Sacred Liturgy according to the Second Vatican Council's Constitution on the Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium.

THE AUTHOR

Helen Hull Hitchcock is founding director of Women for Faith & Family and editor of its quarterly journal, Voices. She is also editor of the Adoremus Bulletin a monthly publication of Adoremus – Society for the Renewal of the Sacred Liturgy, of which she is a co-founder. She is married to James Hitchcock, professor of history at St. Louis University. The Hitchcocks have four daughters and five grandchildren, and live in St. Louis.

She has published many articles and essays in a wide range of Catholic journals, and is the author/editor of The Politics of Prayer: Feminist language and the worship of God, (Ignatius Press 1992), a collection of essays on issues involved in translation. She has contributed essays to several books, including Spiritual Journeys, a book of "conversion stories" (Daughters of St. Paul).

Copyright © 2010 Adoremus Bulletin

Article: The Importance of Free Choice: The Role of Our Will

PETER KREEFT

Though agape comes from God, it resides in our free will as human beings.

Its home is not the body or the feelings, or even the intellect, but the will. True, the intellect has to work with it. But it is not the intellect that loves, any more than it is the light in the operating room that performs the surgery. Agape may be aided by seeing, accompanied by feeling, and accomplished by doing, but it is essentially an act of choosing, an act of free will.

If God is love, then God must be that which loves, the will. God is not just being or the Force or Cosmic Consciousness, but a willer with a will. This is the distinctively biblical concept of God, which is missing in most Oriental religions.

Three other words for will in Scripture are "heart" (the center or core of the person), "spirit," and "I" (as in "I AM WHO AM"). All three mean the self. The source of agape is not any function of the self but the self itself, that mysterious and non-objectifiable personal center which is the root and source of all our functions. Who is it that thinks and feels? Whose body and soul is this? Who am I? "Know thyself."

I sense, I think, I know, I feel, I desire, I long – there is an "I" behind everything I do, inner or outer, spiritual or physical. This I is God's image in me. Like God, it is hidden (Is 45:15). For like God, it is the subject rather than the object, the thinker rather than the thought, the feeler rather than the felt, the doer rather than the deed. "Know thyself," then, is the insolvable puzzle – the mystery that cannot be reduced to a problem. The self or I is the thing we are but cannot know, the thing that is not a thing.

The closest thing to it is willing. I can distance myself from my thoughts, hold them captive as an object and criticize them. I can do the same with my feelings. But not with my willing – at least not my present willing – for the very act of holding something before my consciousness is an act of willing.

I am not wholly free or responsible for my thoughts and feelings, which partly come to me from my heredity and my environment. But I am completely free and responsible for my will's choices, which come from me. I am not what I think or feel but I am what I will. I can distance myself from my thought. I can even distance myself from my feeling, for I can feel angry and yet refuse to be identified with that feeling. But I cannot distance myself from my willing. I cannot will and refuse at the same time because refusal is willing.

That is why it is not important whether temptations come to me, but it is important whether I consent to them. "Not what goes into the mouth defiles a man, but what comes out of the mouth, this defiles a man" (Mt 15:11). This is true not only of the mouth or the body, but also the soul. What comes into my soul is not necessarily what I will, but what comes out of my soul is precisely what I will.

The Greek philosophers did not clearly recognize this personal center. They were intellectualists; they thought the deepest thing in us was the mind. Thus Plato taught that whenever we really know the good, we do it. He thought that all evil is ultimately ignorance and curable by education. Aristotle too identified reason with the true self, that which distinguishes us from animals. He defined man as "a rational animal." But Scripture goes deeper. When asked how people could understand his teachings, Jesus replied, "My teaching is not mine, but his who sent me; if any man's will is to do his [the Father's] will, he shall know whether the teaching is from God" (Jn 7:16.17, emphasis added).

The will leads us to wisdom. The heart leads the head. Therefore Solomon says, "Keep your heart with all vigilance; for from it flow the springs of life" (Prov 4:23). In the natural sciences the head must lead. But in knowing persons – ourselves, others, or God – the heart must lead the head. "Deep calls to deep" (Ps 42:7), I to I. Thus Augustine declares that his Confessions cannot be understood by those who "do not have their ear to my heart, where I am what I am."

In the natural sciences the head must lead. But in knowing persons – ourselves, others, or God – the heart must lead the head.

"Know thyself' was the first and greatest commandment for the Greeks. It was inscribed on every temple of Apollo. We can distinguish at least five levels of profundity in attempting to answer that fundamental question, What is the self? What am I? What is the human person? Only the key of love unlocks the deepest answer.

  • Answer #1: I am the social self. I am simply a social function, an ingredient in society. Society is the absolute. This old tribal view is coming back into modern consciousness. Many of my students use "Society" (always with a capital S, like "Science") exactly where theists would use "God" as the ultimate authority. De Tocqueville, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Ortega y Gasset, Huxley, Orwell, and Riesman all warned of this: xeroxed souls, standardized selves, mass conformity, "the lonely crowd."

  • Answer #2: I am the individual physical self. I am the thing that eats, diets, jogs, exercises, and dies. I am what I eat. This old pagan materialistic notion is also undergoing a great comeback in the modern yuppie world.

  • Answer #3: I am the feeling self. I am a mass of self-actualization, loneliness, positive and negative vibes, different strokes, complexes, libidinous urges, or other kinds of liberations of the psyche! This is another very popular view in the modern world. It is a little deeper and closer to the heights reached by classical paganism, which is the next deeper view.

  • Answer #4: I am the rational self. Unlike the animals, which include all the above answers, I can know truth. I stand in a light for which the animals have no receptor: the light of understanding, meaning, and intrinsic value. "Reason" meant this to the ancients: something immeasurably greater than what "reason" means to moderns. Namely, calculation, clever­ness, or logical correctness. To the ancients, it meant a divine attribute: wisdom.

  • Answer #5: I am the will, heart, soul, spirit, self, or I. I am that which chooses, commits, decides, and loves.

Why is the fifth answer the truest one? The will is central because love is central. Not the intellect. Not quite. Plato is half right: evil does indeed come from ignorance, but not only from ignorance for then it would be excusable. In fact, ignorance first comes from evil. We will, we choose, we create the moral ignorance in our souls the ignorance that Plato saw was a prerequisite to doing evil. We voluntarily turn off the light of truth. For instance, we shut out the divine truth and justice of "thou shalt not steal" before we sin by stealing. The ignorance of the thief – by which he thinks that filling his pockets with stolen money will make him happier than filling his soul with proper virtue – is indeed, as Plato saw, a prerequisite for his act of theft. But that ignorance in turn has as its prerequisite the will's choice to turn the thief's attention away from the truth of the moral law. He wills to look instead at the pleasures he thinks will derive from his loot. His ignorance comes from his ignoring.




ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Peter Kreeft. "The Importance of Free Choice: The Role of Our Will." excerpted from The God Who Loves You (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 1988).

This article is reprinted with permission of Peter Kreeft.

THE AUTHOR

Peter Kreeft, Ph.D., is a professor of philosophy at Boston College. He is an alumnus of Calvin College (AB 1959) and Fordham University (MA 1961, Ph.D., 1965). He taught at Villanova University from 1962-1965, and has been at Boston College since 1965.

He is the author of numerous books (over forty and counting) including: The God Who Loves You: Love Divine, All Loves Excelling, The Snakebite Letters, The Philosophy of Jesus, The Journey: A Spiritual Roadmap for Modern Pilgrims, Prayer: The Great Conversation: Straight Answers to Tough Questions About Prayer, How to Win the Culture War: A Christian Battle Plan for a Society in Crisis, Love Is Stronger Than Death, Philosophy 101 by Socrates: An Introduction to Philosophy Via Plato's Apology, A Pocket Guide to the Meaning of Life, and Before I Go: Letters to Our Children About What Really Matters. Peter Kreeft in on the Advisory Board of the Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 2010 Peter Kreeft


Article: Homologous Intrauterine Insemination: Does It Replace the Marriage Act?

WASHINGTON, D.C., SEPT. 22, 2010 (Zenit.org).- Here is a question on bioethics asked by a ZENIT reader and answered by the fellows of the Culture of Life Foundation.

Q: Could you tell us the state of Church teachings on homologous intrauterine insemination between spouses, using a seminal reservoir to obtain the semen? -- J.A.A. of Santiago de Chile

William E. May offers the following response:

I presume that by "homologous intrauterine insemination," J.A.A. is referring to the procedure known as GIFT, an acronym that stands for "gamete intrafallopian tube transfer."

What is GIFT?

GIFT can be described as follows: It is like in vitro fertilization (IVF) in that the woman's ovaries are hyperstimulated to produce many eggs, which are retrieved either by laparoscopy or an ultrasound guided procedure. It is unlike IVF in that the fertilization of the eggs occurs not outside the woman's body but within it.

After the egg or eggs are retrieved, they are placed in a catheter with sperm, with an air bubble separating the sperm and egg(s). Sperm is provided either by masturbation or by using a perforated condom during previous marital acts. The catheter is then inserted into the woman's body (and she can be either a person other than the wife of the man whose sperm are used -- heterologous form of GIFT -- or be his wife -- homologous GIFT); the ovum or ova and sperm are released from the catheter and fertilization and conception can then take place within the woman's body. This is caused by the concentrate of sperm placed in the catheter and released after its insertion into her body, or perhaps by sperm released into her body by the marital act in association with which the catheter is inserted.[1]

It is important to note that the procedure was originally developed by Dr. Ricardo Asch and his associates at the University of Health Science Center in Houston, Texas, as an offshoot of IVF, and the husband's sperm was collected by masturbation. Informed that the Catholic Church condemns masturbation, even as a way of obtaining a husband's sperm, Asch and other doctors who used the method suggested that sperm be obtained by using a perforated condom during the marital act.[2]

Magisterial teaching

There is no definitive teaching of the magisterium on GIFT as such. "Donum Vitae" (Instruction on Respect for Human Life in its Origins and on the Dignity of Procreation), Part II, B, No. 6, states: "If the technical means facilitates the conjugal act or helps it to reach its natural objectives, it can be morally acceptable. If, on the other hand, the procedure were to replace the conjugal act, it is morally illicit."[3]

The issue, then, is whether GIFT, if the eggs (ova) used are those of the wife of the man whose sperm will be used for fertilization (homologous intrauterine insemination), "assists" or "replaces" the conjugal act.

Different and opposing theological opinions

Some theologians regard it as legitimate, a way of "facilitating or "assisting" the conjugal act to achieve its procreative purpose; others reject it as immoral because it does not "facilitate" or "assist" the conjugal act, but rather "replaces" or "substitutes" for it.

Arguments for GIFT

Two representative proponents of this position are the Rev. Donald G. McCarthy; and Peter Cataldo.

McCarthy argues as follows: "The conjugal act in the described procedure remains the essential step in getting the ovum and sperm to meet. This step is followed by the repositioning of the ovum and sperm in a manner which markedly increases the likelihood of fertilization. Hence, GIFT ... can be seen as a medical procedure which assists, rather than replaces, the conjugal act. ... In conclusion, while the GIFT technique uses technology to assist fertilization, it simply re- positions the sperm and ova to enhance the desired outcome of fertilization. The link between the marital act and procreation is realized by technical assistance."[4]

Cataldo offers a more extensive defense of GIFT as morally acceptable because it assists or facilitates the marital act in achieving its goal of generating new human life. He writes as follows: "A procedure replaces the conjugal act if it determines, of itself, those conditions which immediately secure the success of fertilization; a procedure assists the conjugal act if it does not determine, of itself, those conditions which immediately secure the success of fertilization, but rather allows fertilization to take place under immediate conditions which are natural."[5]

Using this criterion, Cataldo argues that GIFT is a morally legitimate procedure: "I believe that GIFT with a conjugal act assists that act because the immediate conditions of fertilization are not determined or created by the procedure itself. Unlike IVF and the other procedures which replace the conjugal act, fertilization itself takes place in GIFT within natural conditions which are essentially the same as those in which a pathology is not present."[6]

Arguments against GIFT

This is the position defended by Germain Grisez,[7] Donald DeMarco,[8] Benedict Ashley, OP, and Kevin O'Rourke,[9] and me.[10] Here I present their basic argument: First of all, the procedure was originally developed as a variant of IVF and the husband's sperm was collected by masturbation. Informed that the Catholic Church condemns masturbation, even as a way of obtaining a husband's sperm, the doctors [Asch and others as noted already] who used the method suggested that sperm be obtained by using a perforated condom during the marital act.

This shows, I think, that with GIFT the marital act is merely incidental to the entire procedure, used only as a way of obtaining sperm in a nonmasturbatory way. Since the sperm have been deliberately, intentionally withheld from a marital act or series of marital acts, they cannot be said truly to be integral to the marital act when the catheter containing these sperm and the wife's ovum are inserted into her body. Although subsequent fertilization of her ovum may be caused by sperm introduced into her body during the accompanying marital act, such fertilization would be per accidens and not per se.

Conclusion

Here I have done my best to present accurately the contradictory positions of different theologians for and against GIFT. Either that which is defended by people like McCarthy and Cataldo is true, or that which is defended by Grisez, De Marco, Ashley/O'Rourke and me is true, but both cannot be; one must be true, the other false. Readers should study their arguments and evidence they advance to support them and make up their own minds as to which views make more sense.

Notes

[1] See David S. McLaughlin, "A Scientific Introduction to Reproductive Technologies," in Reproductive Technologies, Marriage, and the Church, ed. Rev. Donald G. McCarthy (Braintree, MA: The Pope John XXIII Medical Moral Center, 1988), pp. 55-56. See also John M. Haas, president of National Catholic Bioethics Center, "Begotten, not Made: A Catholic View of Reproductive Technology," http://www.usccb.org/prolife/programs/rlp/98rlphaa.shtml.

[2] On this see Rev. Donald G. McCarthy, "Catholic Medical Teaching and TOT/GIFT: Response: A Response to Donald DeMarco," in McCarthy (ed.), Reproductive Technologies, Marriage and the Church (St. Louis: Pope John XXIII Medical Moral Center, 1988) p. 144.

[3] The 2008 Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith Dignitas Personae, a sequel to Donum Vitae, does not consider the morality of GIFT. The 2009 edition (5th edition) of Ethical Directives for Catholic Health Care Services, directive No. 38, declares: "When the marital act of sexual intercourse is not able to attain its procreative purpose, assistance that does not separate the unitive and procreative ends of the act, and does not substitute for the marital act itself, may be used to help married couples conceive".

[4] GIFT? Yes! Ethics & Medics 18/9 (Sept. 1993): 3-4 at 4.

[5] "Reproductive Technologies," Ethics & Medics 21/1 (Jan. 1996): 1-3 at 2.

[6] Ibid.

[7] See Grisez's Difficult Moral Questions, Vol. 3 of his The Way of the Lord Jesus, Question 52, pp. 242-249 (originally published by Franciscan Herald Press, 1997; reprinted 2007 Alba House).

[8] See DeMarco, "Catholic Moral Teaching and TOT/GIFT," in Reproductive Technologies. (see footnote 2 above), pp. 47-49.

[9] See the 4th edition of their Health Care Ethics (Washington, D.C. Georgetown University Press, 2002), pp. 47-49.

[10] See my Catholic Bioethics and the Gift of Human Life (Second Ed. Huntington, IN: Our Sunday Visitor, 2008), p. 93.

* * *

William E. May, is a Senior Fellow at the Culture of Life Foundation and retired Michael J. McGivney Professor of Moral Theology at the John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and Family at The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Wednesday Liturgy: Bowing While Kneeling

ROME, SEPT. 21, 2010 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.


Q: At Mass some folks are beginning to bow after the consecration of each of the elements, although our rubrics require that we be kneeling. Isn't kneeling already an act of adoration and reverence, thus making the bow superfluous? For some reason, bows seem to be proliferating during the liturgy like rabbits multiplying. If one is prevented from kneeling due to circumstance or size of the congregation it might be understandable to make some simple act of reverence, but it seems this is simply an act of piety imposed on the liturgy. Also, it's my understanding that, according to the GIRM a bow is prescribed for those in the sanctuary, that is, those ordained: deacons or concelebrants. -- A.R., Mishawaka, Indiana

A: This question is addressed in the Introduction of the Roman Missal, nos. 274-275:

"(274) A genuflection, made by bending the right knee to the ground, signifies adoration, and therefore it is reserved for the Most Blessed Sacrament, as well as for the Holy Cross from the solemn adoration during the liturgical celebration on Good Friday until the beginning of the Easter Vigil.

"During Mass, three genuflections are made by the priest celebrant: namely, after the showing of the host, after the showing of the chalice, and before Communion. Certain specific features to be observed in a concelebrated Mass are noted in their proper place (cf. above, nos. 210-251).

"If, however, the tabernacle with the Most Blessed Sacrament is present in the sanctuary, the priest, the deacon, and the other ministers genuflect when they approach the altar and when they depart from it, but not during the celebration of Mass itself.

"Otherwise all who pass before the Most Blessed Sacrament genuflect, unless they are moving in procession.

"Ministers carrying the processional cross or candles bow their heads instead of genuflecting.

"(275) A bow signifies reverence and honor shown to the persons themselves or to the signs that represent them. There are two kinds of bows: a bow of the head and a bow of the body.

"a. A bow of the head is made when the three Divine Persons are named together and at the names of Jesus, of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and of the Saint in whose honor Mass is being celebrated.

"b. A bow of the body, that is to say a profound bow, is made to the altar; during the prayers Munda cor meum (Almighty God, cleanse my heart) and In spiritu humilitatis (Lord God, we ask you to receive); in the Creed at the words Et incarnatus est (by the power of the Holy Spirit . . . made man); in the Roman Canon at the words Supplices te rogamus (Almighty God, we pray that your angel). The same kind of bow is made by the deacon when he asks for a blessing before the proclamation of the Gospel. In addition, the priest bows slightly as he speaks the words of the Lord at the consecration."

And also No. 43:

"In the dioceses of the United States of America, they should kneel beginning after the singing or recitation of the Sanctus until after the Amen of the Eucharistic Prayer, except when prevented on occasion by reasons of health, lack of space, the large number of people present, or some other good reason. Those who do not kneel ought to make a profound bow when the priest genuflects after the consecration."

Some other countries and dioceses follow the same custom for kneeling as the United States; others prescribe kneeling only during the consecration until the "Mystery of faith." There is no mention here of bowing while kneeling but only of bowing when for some good reason one is unable to kneel.

The practice of bowing while kneeling is not a novel custom. In the extraordinary form it is a general rule that kneeling does not substitute a prescribed bow. But the vast majority of the ritual gestures where this might occur refer to ministers and clergy in choir rather than to the faithful in general.

In some countries the double genuflection before the Blessed Sacrament exposed, which incorporates a bow while kneeling, is still normative.

In the ordinary form the practice of bowing while kneeling is not common except for celebrant and acolytes before and after incensing the Blessed Sacrament exposed. It is not foreseen while incensing the sacred species during Mass.

I would hazard to guess that some people have acquired the practice of bowing when the priest genuflects after showing the host as a consequence of seeing concelebrants bowing at this moment. This bow while kneeling is not required, but I don't think it does any harm and would likely be very hard to eliminate once someone has acquired the habit.

The same cannot be said for those who bow during the showing so as not to look at the host. While such a gesture is understandable in the light of the divine majesty, the practice contradicts the very reason for raising the host and chalice in the first place. They are raised precisely in order to be seen, contemplated and adored.

These gestures entered relatively late into the Roman rite in the 12th century. At a time when reception of Communion was at an all-time low, a popular movement arose among the faithful desirous of at least beholding the sacred host. The showing of the host by the priest responded to this devotion. The parallel gesture of raising the chalice followed more than a century later.

Finally, our reader understands that "according to the GIRM a bow is prescribed for those in the sanctuary, that is, those ordained: deacons or concelebrants." Actually the bow is carried out ordinarily only by concelebrants. The deacon would normally be kneeling. However, he kneels only during the consecration, even in countries where the faithful kneel for the entire Eucharistic Prayer. If, for some just cause, the deacon is impeded from kneeling, then he would also make a deep bow.

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: Teens as Extraordinary Ministers

ROME, SEPT. 21, 2010 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.


In the wake of our commentaries on teenage extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion (see Sept. 7) a reader asked, "What about the practice in some parishes where at a wedding Mass the priest 'on the spot' deputes the bride and groom as Eucharistic ministers so that the couple can give Communion to one another and then to each other's family, relatives and friends."

This practice has been specifically forbidden in the instruction Redemptionis Sacramentum, No. 94: "It is not licit for the faithful 'to take ... by themselves ... and, still less, to hand ... from one to another' the sacred host or the sacred chalice. Moreover, in this regard, the abuse is to be set aside whereby spouses administer Holy Communion to each other at a Nuptial Mass."

Related to the theme of extraordinary ministers was the following question from a reader in Atlanta, Georgia: "Regarding GIRM No. 162, do the extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion have the option of when they 'approach' the altar? Some feel that the proper interpretation is that the extraordinary ministers leave their pews during the 'Lamb of God,' assemble standing at the base of the altar while the rest of the community kneels, and then 'approach' the top of the altar stairs after the celebrant receives Our Lord in communion. Others feel that the extraordinary ministers should not leave their pews until the celebrant receives Our Lord in communion, and then come to the top of the altar stairs. In this way, the extraordinary ministers are kneeling with the rest of the community before they approach, while in the first option they are standing."

The General Instruction of the Roman Missal [GIRM], No. 162, says: "The priest may be assisted in the distribution of Communion by other priests who happen to be present. If such priests are not present and there is a very large number of communicants, the priest may call upon extraordinary ministers to assist him, e.g., duly instituted acolytes or even other faithful who have been deputed for this purpose. In case of necessity, the priest may depute suitable faithful for this single occasion. These ministers should not approach the altar before the priest has received Communion, and they are always to receive from the hands of the priest celebrant the vessel containing either species of the Most Holy Eucharist for distribution to the faithful."

I would first observe that the question of whether the extraordinary ministers are kneeling or standing during the "Lamb of God" applies only to most dioceses of the United States and a few other countries. In most countries the people stand at this moment, as foreseen in the general norms (although these norms also contemplate and recommend maintaining kneeling wherever it is customary).

I would say that the meaning of the expression "approach the altar" is that extraordinary ministers should only come to the altar in order to receive the sacred vessels. They should not be present in the altar's immediate vicinity, in the manner of concelebrants, until their service begins.

However, if the design and logistics of the chapel require it, there is no reason why they could not all gather in a convenient place within or near the sanctuary at a reasonable distance from the altar. They can thus approach the altar immediately after the priest's communion. The most opportune moment for this gathering would be after reciting the "Lord, I am not worthy," especially if distances are short. If the number of ministers or the complex design of the sanctuary calls for it, it could also be discreetly done during the "Lamb of God."

Friday, September 17, 2010

Article: Music from the spheres

FATHER GEORGE W. RUTLER

Among the theories once dismissed as "old wives' tales," was the advice that pregnant women should surround themselves with music.

Research now shows that this was not a foolish notion at all. Amniotic fluid is a good conductor, and the unborn baby can hear music very well and responds to harmonic and repetitious sounds. As a born person, I betray a prejudice in suggesting that Mozart is probably the best choice and that Rock music unsettles the bodily humors and reason itself.

The English composer Sir John Tavener has called Mozart "the most sacred composer of the West," and attributes to him a mystical ability to pluck pre-existing music out of the spheres in an "ecstatic act of being." There are moments – paradoxically, most vivid in pieces not meant to be part of a sacred repertoire – such as Zerlina's aria, "Vedrai carino," in Don Giovanni, in which Mozart conveys "the heartbeat of God seen through the eyes of a child."

That divine heartbeat created our own hearts, and when its purest earthly expression, the Immaculate Heart of Mary, approached her cousin, Elizabeth's baby leapt in the womb at the sound of her greeting. Psychologists claim that a baby can remember music first heard in the womb, months after birth. The first and finest music St. John the Baptist ever heard was Mary's Magnificat, and it may not be fanciful to think that he remembered it when his heart stopped beating at his execution.

Born with congenital glaucoma and blind by the age of twelve, the singer Andrea Bocelli recounts how doctors had advised his mother to "abort the child," because he would be born with a disability. But "the young brave wife decided not to abort, and the child was born … Maybe I am partisan, but I can say it was the right choice," says Bocelli.

All earthly music is an attempt to "pluck out of the spheres the sound of the Divine Love that said, "Let there be." "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you …" (Jeremiah 1:5). St. Paul took that music to the nations because he knew that God "from my mother's womb had set me apart" (Galatians: 1:15).

These are not old wives' tales. They are facts, and to deny them is to be unscientific about the soul. What noise there is in our culture is the denial of God's appealing voice. That is why those who would interrupt that voice become aggressive and anxious and cut off reasonable discussion of the sanctity of life. The Immaculate Mother had the world's most perfect pitch, having been conceived free of the original noise of pride. The world today would be worse than noisy; it would not even know the difference between noise and harmony, if Mary had said "no" to the angel instead of "yes."



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Father George William Rutler. "Music from the spheres." From the Pastor (July 11, 2010).

Reprinted with permission of Father George W. Rutler.

THE AUTHOR

Father Rutler received priestly ordination in 1981. Born in 1945 and reared in the Episcopal tradition, Father Rutler was an Episcopal priest for nine years. He was received into the Catholic Church in 1979 and was sent to the North American College in Rome for seminary studies. Father Rutler graduated from Dartmouth, where he was a Rufus Choate Scholar, and took advanced degrees at the Johns Hopkins University and the General Theological Seminary. He holds several degrees from the Gregorian and Angelicum Universities in Rome, including the Pontifical Doctorate in Sacred Theology, and studied at the Institut Catholique in Paris. In England, in 1988, the University of Oxford awarded him the degree Master of Studies. From 1987 to 1989 he was regular preacher to the students, faculty, and townspeople of Oxford. Cardinal Egan appointed him Pastor of the Church of Our Saviour, effective September 17, 2001.

Since 1988 his weekly television program has been broadcast worldwide on EWTN. Father Rutler has published 17 books, including: Cloud of Witnesses – Dead People I Knew When They Were Alive, Coincidentally: Unserious Reflections on Trivial Connections, A Crisis of Saints: Essays on People and Principles, Brightest and Best, Saint John Vianney: The Cure D'Ars Today, Crisis in Culture, and Adam Danced: The Cross and the Seven Deadly Sins.

Copyright © 2010 Father George W. Rutler


Article: The curious metaphysics of Dr. Stephen Hawking

FATHER ROBERT SPITZER, S.J., PH.D.

Why would a preeminent physicist make the claim that “the universe can come from nothing?”

Dr. Stephen Hawking

This is precisely what Dr. Stephen Hawking has done in his new book, The Grand Design, when he notes, "Because there is a law such as gravity, the Universe can and will create itself from nothing. Spontaneous creation is the reason there is something rather than nothing, why the Universe exists, why we exist."

This statement betrays Hawking's fundamental assumption about the universe, namely that it came from nothing. But why would a preeminent physicist assume that the universe came from nothing? Presumably, because he believes that there are reasons for thinking that the universe had a beginning.

Let me put it in reverse: If one believes that there is significant evidence for a beginning of the universe then one is confronted with the question, "what was the universe before the beginning?" If the beginning is truly a point at which the universe came into existence then one is confronted by the fact that prior to the beginning, the whole physical universe was nothing.

What's my point? If Dr. Hawking does not believe that there is any reason to think that the universe had a beginning (from physics or philosophy), then why does he even bother to speculate about how the universe could spontaneously create itself from nothing? I am left to assume that Dr. Hawking does believe there are reasons for thinking the universe had a beginning – otherwise his contention about "the universe coming from nothing" makes no sense.

It so happens that there is a considerable amount of evidence for a beginning of the universe from both physics and philosophy. In my new book New Proofs for the Existence of God: Contributions of Contemporary Physics and Philosophy (Eerdmans, 2010), I speak about compelling evidence for the beginning of a universe from space-time geometry (the Borde-Vilenkin-Guth Theorem 2003, and the Borde-Vilenkin Proof – 1993) and from the second law of thermodynamics (entropy). I also speak about the evidence of a beginning from the mathematical argument (implicit in the work of David Hilbert) against actual infinities constituting aggregative wholes. I am not certain whether Dr. Hawking has used these or other kinds of evidence to implicitly adduce a beginning of the universe, but it is difficult for me to believe that he has come to the threshold of metaphysics without any sense of one.

If we grant this, then the next step would be to examine the value of his metaphysical argument. Bear in mind here that Dr. Hawking has moved from the domain of physics to metaphysics (literally "beyond physics") when he makes statements about "nothing" and "creation" and "the universe creating itself." These metaphysical topics have been taken up since the time of Parmenides and Plato, and quite frankly, answered by them in a more consistent and rigorous way than Dr. Hawking. Why would I say this? Because these thinkers use the term "nothing" to mean "nothing" (i.e. "that which there is no such thing as"). Nothing should not be thought to be a vacuum or a void (which is dimensional and orientable – where you can have more or less space); and it is certainly not a physical law. Inasmuch as the laws of physics have real physical effects, they must be considered to be something physical.

Let's take the law mentioned by Dr. Hawking above – the law of gravity. It has a specific constant associated with it and specific characteristics, and it has specific effects on mass-energy and even on space-time itself. This is a very curious definition of "nothing." Therefore, Dr. Hawking's phrase should be restated to say something like, "Because there is a law such as gravity, the Universe has unfolded and developed." But what must be avoided are the rest of the statements – "can and will create itself from nothing" and "Spontaneous creation is the reason there is something rather than nothing," etc. Now, if we rephrase Dr. Hawking's statement in the above fashion, then he has clearly not explained why there is something rather than nothing. He has only explained that something comes from something (i.e. the universe from physical laws such as the law of gravity).

In my view, Dr. Hawking has not yet shown the non-necessity of this reality. Indeed, he implies it by assuming the existence of a beginning in his assertion about the universe coming from nothing.

But let's go back to Dr. Hawking's underlying assumption, namely that there are reasons to think that something came from nothing – namely, reasons for a beginning. How have philosophers and metaphysicians traditionally responded to this question? With what many term the first principle of metaphysics, "From nothing only nothing comes." If you take nothing literally – that is if one acknowledges that there is no such thing as nothing, then one cannot attribute anything to nothing. One cannot attribute characteristics, actions, powers and so forth to nothing. In this absence of everything, one can only conclude that "only nothing can come from nothing." What does this mean?

It means that if the physical universe had a beginning (a point at which it came into existence" then prior to that point it was nothing. And if it was nothing then it could not have created itself (because only nothing can come from nothing). So what does that imply? The very reality that Dr. Hawking wants to avoid, namely, a transcendent power which can cause the universe to come into existence.

Why should we consider this power to be transcendent (that is – transcending the universe as a whole)? Because if the universe was nothing prior to its beginning, then the reality which causes it to exist must be completely beyond it (independent of it). This transcendent reality which causes the universe as a whole to exist is frequently termed "creator" or "God." In my view, Dr. Hawking has not yet shown the non-necessity of this reality. Indeed, he implies it by assuming the existence of a beginning in his assertion about the universe coming from nothing.



Father Robert Spitzer, S.J. on science and religion - EWTN Live



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Father Robert Spitzer, S.J. "The Curious Metaphysics of Dr. Stephen." Magis Institute (September 3, 2010).

Reprinted with permission of the Magis Institute.

The mission of the Magis Institute is to explore and share the close connection between reason and faith as revealed by new discoveries in astrophysics and philosophy.

THE AUTHOR

Father Robert Spitzer, S.J. is currently the President of the Magis Center of Faith and Reason and the Spitzer Center for Ethical Leadership. The former is dedicated to showing the close connection between faith and reason in contemporary astrophysics, philosophy, and historical study of the New Testament. The latter is dedicated to personal and cultural transformation that supports principle-based ethics and leads to noble and enduring success. Father Spitzer was President of Gonzaga University from 1998-2009. He has published 5 books and numerous scholarly articles, started 6 national institutes, and speaks widely on the philosophy of science, philosophy of God, and ethics. Fr. Spitzer has as spoken to thousands of audiences, and has done ethics consulting for over 300 organizations, including Boeing, Caterpillar, Toyota, Costco, the British Prime Minister's Cabinet, the leadership of Costa Rica, Protestant and Catholic leadership in Northern Ireland, and the Orthodox Church in Russia. Father Spitzer is the author of New Proofs for the Existence of God: Contributions of Contemporary Physics and Philosophy, Spirit of Leadership: Optimizing Creativity and Change in Organizations, Five Pillars of the Spiritual Life: A Practical Guide to Prayer for Active People, Healing the Culture: A Commonsense Philosophy of Happiness, Freedom, and the Life Issues, Ten Universal Principles: A Brief Philosophy of the Life Issues, as well as videos such as Suffering and the God of Love, and Healing the Culture.

Copyright © 2010 Magis Institute

Article: The Mystery of Newman

JOHN F. CROSBY

The thought, the teaching, the inner life of Newman have an inexhaustible fullness, a mysterious plenitude that you can feed on for a lifetime without any feeling of surfeit.

Venerable John Henry Cardinal Newman
(1801-1890)

I personally began to feel the fascination of Newman when I was 16, and he has accompanied me all these years, and formed me, as no one else has, and yet he does not wear thin. There is in Newman nothing artificial, nothing forced, nothing affected – nothing to make us tire of him. He is so real, so convincingly real, so utterly truthful.

Let us try to understand this mysterious abundance of Newman, and this inexhaustible fullness. To this end we begin with an idea of Newman's regarding truth and falsity.

He holds that we are kept from truth not only by error, but also by truth. This sounds paradoxical in the abstract, but it is quite undeniable considered in the concrete. Some truths can get in the way of our recognition of other truths; some can seem to exclude others. Heresy has sometimes been defined as not an outright error, but rather someone truth that is played off other equally certain truths. Thus Newman teaches that the fullness of Christian truth involves the union of apparent opposites; as he says in one place, "One aspect of Revelation must not be allowed to exclude or to obscure another; and Christianity is dogmatical, devotional, practical all at once; it is esoteric and exoteric; it is indulgent and strict; it is light and dark; it is love, and it is fear."

Now the mind of Newman is distinguished by the most extraordinary ability to find room even for apparently opposed truths. He is also distinguished by the comprehensiveness of his heart; that is, by his ability to find room for apparently opposed loves. His heart is as capacious as his mind. I think that this coincidentia oppositorum, or union of apparent opposites, explains, or at least goes far towards explaining, hat mysterious fullness of Newman.

By the way, it is because Newman knows so well how to affirm truths without letting them get in the way of each other, and because there is, as a result, so much truth in Newman, that partisans of the most different stripes try to appropriate Newman for themselves. I have seen people from the likes of Hans Küng all the way to followers of Archbishop Lefebvre quote Newman as if he were one of their own. Each of them seizes on a part of Newman, but none of these is quite equal to the whole Newman. There is usually more truth in Newman than they can cope with, and in fact, one can often draw on the same Newman in order to show the narrowness of their partisan interpretations.

We proceed now to consider several concrete ways in which Newman holds together aspects of reality that, in lesser minds, tend to break apart.


Objectivity and Subjectivity of Truth

All his life, Newman was passionately committed to what he called the "dogmatical principle." I know of no better expression of it than the following:

That there is a truth then; that there is one truth; that religious error is in itself of an immoral nature; that its maintainers, unless involuntarily such, are guilty in maintaining it; that it is to be dreaded; that the search for truth is not the gratification of curiosity; that its attainment has nothing of the excitement of a discovery; that the mind is below truth, not above it, and is bound, not to descant upon it, but to venerate it; that truth and falsehood are set before us for the trial of our hearts; that our choice is an awful giving forth of lots on which salvation or rejection is inscribed; that "before all things it is necessary to hold the Catholic faith". . . – this is the dogmatical principle, which has strength.

One cannot even begin to understand Newman without understanding the depth of his commitment to the dogmatical principle.

He is also distinguished by the comprehensiveness of his heart; that is, by his ability to find room for apparently opposed loves. His heart is as capacious as his mind.

Now it would not be surprising if Newman's passionate commitment to objective religious truth, to dogma and to the creed, would have made him suspicious of religious experience. Well, it is a striking sign of the breadth of Newman that, according to him, it is not enough to believe what is in itself true; the believer has also to apprehend doctrinal truth imaginatively and experientially, that is, to apprehend it really and not just notionally. Only on this basis can the truth gain power over him and enable him to live a life of religious devotion. Newman explores in great detail the religious experience without which there is no committed religious existence, and he is constantly striving to elicit this experience in his readers and listeners.

Indeed, Newman ought to be seen as a kind of forerunner oft hose modern thinkers who have turned, far more than religious thinkers before them, to religious experience as a unique source of knowledge of God. Newman anticipates some of their reserve about scholastic philosophical theology when he says of the traditional demonstrations for the existence of God that they "do not warm me and enlighten me; they do not take away the winter of my desolation, or make the buds unfold and the leaves grow within me, and my moral being rejoice." For all of his zeal for doctrinal truth, Newman was a great friend of religious experience and a sharp critic of the religious rationalism that expects too much from definition and demonstration. In general, we can say that Newman lived through and made his own what has been called the modern "discovery of subjectivity," and that he is in this respect an entirely modern mind. In the mind and heart of Newman, there is so much room that the turn to religious subjectivity in no way weakens the witness to the dogmatical principle. He is serious about the subjective appropriation of truth, but is no less serious about the objective truth itself which is to be appropriated, and in fact each of these commitments supports the other.


The Kingdom of God and Intellectual Culture

Newman lived a total consecration to God. This is why he felt drawn to a celibate life even while living in a Church that in no way prized or recommended priestly celibacy. It was just this total consecration of all his powers, of his whole life to God, this total freedom from worldly ambition, this single-mindedness and purity of heart with which he gave himself to God, which so profoundly impressed Protestant England. Newman was for his countrymen a witness, a uniquely convincing witness to the world of God, as one can see from the way in which England took leave of him at the time of his death. Whenever culture or civilization or intellectual excellence tended to deform genuine religion, Newman was quick to detect the deformation, and was zealous in defending true religion and in rejecting the counterfeits.

Now it would be entirely understandable if a profoundly religious personality, who consecrated himself totally to the kingdom of God, had neither eyes nor ears for the finite value of any work of man. It would be understandable, in other words, if Newman had become a zealot like Savonarola. But he did not; he had room in his heart, which totally belonged to God, for the great good of intellectual culture. The prophet who witnessed against the world from the pulpit of St. Mary the Virgin, Oxford, and who called the Church of England to repentance, is identical with the great Christian humanist who wrote The Idea of a University.

Well, it is a striking sign of the breadth of Newman that, according to him, it is not enough to believe what is in itself true; the believer has also to apprehend doctrinal truth imaginatively and experientially, that is, to apprehend it really and not just notionally.

For Newman, true intellectual culture is nothing other than a certain breadth and balance of mind, a certain vision of the totality, an ability to impart "the image of the whole body to every separate member. "To have a well-formed mind is simply to have, in one's intellectual life, the habit of that comprehensiveness that Newman had at all levels of his being. Newman greatly esteemed such intellectual formation and wrote eloquently about it. He even called it a good worth having for its own sake. He perplexed even some of his own confreres in his Oratory of St. Philip Neri by refusing to say that intellectual formation is only a means to moral improvement; he insisted that it is a good in its own right.

But Newman did not just combine in himself radical Christianity and Christian humanism; he made a point of deploring the fact that they so often get in the way of each other. He once said in a well-known sermon,

Here, then, I conceive, is the object of the Holy See and the Catholic Church in setting up Universities; it is to reunite things which were in the beginning joined together by God, and have been put asunder by man.. . . I want to destroy that diversity of centres, which puts everything into confusion by creating a contrariety of influences. I wish the same spots and the same individuals to be at once oracles of philosophy and shrines of devotion. . . . I want the intellectual layman to be religious, and the devout ecclesiastic to be intellectual.

How much richer the Church is as a result of the fact that Newman himself was not only devout, but also deeply intelligent and broadly learned and balanced in judgment.


Faith in the Supernatural and Recognition of the Natural

Another aspect of Newman's radical Christianity was his faith. He lived alone before God, dwelling intimately in the world of God. He realized, in faith, the ministry of the angels and the struggle in which we are involved with the devil. His faith was so strong that he could see in the Church the Bride of Christ, and in the history of the Church the faithfulness of God to His people, and in the stirrings of conscience the voice of God. His was truly a faith that is not scandalized by the world, but that finds God working in the world, and so overcomes the world.

In his writings we never find anything prudish; they rather breathe a great inner freedom toward all that is real. This is why he so disliked the old style of hagiography, in which the weaknesses of the saints were never admitted, and the saints were presented as epitomes of virtue and perfection, like angels in human disguise.

The one who lives out of this overcoming faith often forfeits a certain realism and has difficulty doing justice to all that is "human, all too human" in the Church and in believers. Perhaps he is embarrassed at the frailties that often remain in the saints, or feels threatened by evidences of historical conditioning in the Church. Perhaps he would rather not look too closely at the system of secondary causes, so as not to be troubled in his faith. But this is not Newman; his faith that overcomes the world did not estrange him from the world.

Newman is never disposed to repress any realm of human existence. He is ashamed neither of human corporeality nor of human historicity. In his writings we never find anything prudish; they rather breathe a great inner freedom toward all that is real. This is why he so disliked the old style of hagiography, in which the weaknesses of the saints were never admitted, and the saints were presented as epitomes of virtue and perfection, like angels in human disguise. Newman often quotes approvingly the saying of the Roman poet, "Humani nihila me alienum puto" ("I think of nothing human as foreign to me"). And when the historical sciences began to develop and to be applied to Scripture and revelation, Newman remained calmer than most of his friends. He was not scandalized to learn more than previous generations of Christians had known about the human side of revelation, and about the ways in which God had subjected His revelation to natural laws of growth and development. It did not trouble his faith, which continued to discern the hand of God in history. He did not see why revelation should not have both its human and divine aspect, seeing that it comes from the God who created man by infusing a spirit into the dust of the earth.

This is a wonderful specimen of that breadth of Newman that we have been studying. And who does not see that his faith takes on a maturity, a Christian adulthood, as a result of being joined with his realism? Who can fail to see that Newman thereby becomes a far more credible witness to the revealed Word of God? Who can fail to see something of the mystery of the man in the way in which, here and elsewhere, he brings into unity apparently opposed aspects of truth?



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

John F. Crosby. "The Mystery of Newman." Lay Witness (March/April, 2009).

Reprinted with permission of Lay Witness magazine. Adapted from the September/October 1995 issue of Lay Witness.

Lay Witness is the flagship publication of Catholics United for the Faith. Featuring articles written by leaders in the Catholic Church, each issue of Lay Witness keeps you informed on current events in the Church, the Holy Father's intentions for the month, and provides formation through biblical and catechetical articles with real-life applications for everyday Catholics.

THE AUTHOR

Venerable John Henry Newman was born in London, 21 February 1801, and died Birmingham, 11 August 1890. As Vicar of St. Mary's Oxford he exerted a profound spiritual influence on the Church of England. Joining the Catholic Church in 1845 he founded Oratories of St. Philip Neri in Birmingham and London, was the first rector of the Catholic University in Dublin, and was made Cardinal by Pope Leo XIII in 1879. Through his published writings and private correspondence he created a greater understanding of the Catholic Church and its teachings, helping many persons with their religious difficulties. At his death he was praised for his unworldliness, humility, and prayerful contact with the invisible world. He was declared Venerable on 22 January 1991. John Henry Cardinal Newman is the author of many books including, Parochial and Plain Sermons, Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine, An Essay in Aid of a Grammar of Assent, The Church of the Fathers, The Idea of a University, Fifteen Sermons Preached Before the University of Oxford Between A.D. 1826 and 1843, and Apologia Pro Vita Sua.

Dr. John Crosby is professor of philosophy at Franciscan University of Steubenville. He is known for his work in Christian personalism, including the work of Pope John Paul II, and for his studies on Cardinal Newman. He has taught at the University of Dallas, the John Paul II Institute for Marriage and Family in Rome, and at the International Academy of Philosophy in Liechtenstein. Professor Crosby earned his doctorate in philosophy from the Universitaet Salzburg, Austria, studying with Josef Seifert and having Dietrich von Hildebrand as his master. He is the author of The Legacy of Pope John Paul II: His Contribution to Catholic Thought, Personalist Papers, and The Selfhood of the Human Person.

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