Wednesday Liturgy: Why Dates of Easter Differ

ROME, MARCH 29, 2011 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: I am an Orthodox reader and I have a question. As you know, the Catholic (Western) Churches and the Orthodox celebrate Pascha [Easter] on different Sundays most of the time. The rule of the Council of Nicaea says, "The first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox." However, in the notes on the council it tells us that, even using this calculation -- there being no common calendar in the empire at the time -- Christian churches were celebrating the feast on different Sundays based on when they calculated the equinox and full moons based on their particular calendars. To have unity within the empire, Constantine added the caveat, "But shall not precede or coincide with Passover," and for more than 1,000 years, this worked and we all celebrated Pascha on the same Sunday. Then with the introduction of the Gregorian calendar this changed somewhat but, even if the imperial order was still honored in the West, we would still be celebrating Pascha together. Can you tell us why the Western Churches have chosen to neglect this order and will celebrate Pascha before or during Passover, as they did this year, while the Orthodox will still honor the rule and wait? Or can you tell us why the West, as is the case in some years, will celebrate Pascha on the Sunday when the full moon is Saturday night, which liturgically is Sunday? -- G.J., Houston, Texas

A: First of all, it would appear that the supposed rule that Easter must be celebrated after Passover does not hail from the Council of Nicaea. It would appear that this provision was first proposed by the 12th-century Byzantine canonist Joannes Zonaras. It probably stems from the fact that the drift caused by the Julian calendar's miscalculation of the solar year means that Easter now always falls after the start of the Jewish Passover. The fact that this happens gave rise to the belief that this was a rule, but the historical evidence does not seem to support this.

As our reader points out, early Christians calculated Easter using different criteria. Christians in Syria generally held Easter after the Jewish Passover whereas most other Christians within the Roman Empire calculated Easter with no thought for the Jewish festival. Thus Easter was often celebrated on different days in Antioch and Alexandria. Nicaea decreed a single date but left no precise indications regarding the criteria for calculating the date. It was only several decades later that the system used in Alexandria became generally accepted.

We had already dealt briefly with the question of the date for Easter on Feb. 28, 2006. Our present reply will flesh out what we said on that occasion.

Easter follows a lunar-solar, rather than a solar, calendar and is celebrated on the Sunday that follows the first full moon after March 21, the vernal (spring) equinox. Therefore, Easter cannot fall earlier than March 22 or later than April 25.

Thus, according to a detailed article in Wikipedia, "Gregorian Easter can fall on 35 possible dates. ... It last fell on March 22 in 1818, and will not do so again until 2285. It fell on March 23 in 2008, but will not do so again until 2160. Easter last fell on the latest possible date, April 25, in1943 and will next fall on that date in 2038. However, it will fall on April 24, just one day before this latest possible date, in 2011. The cycle of Easter dates repeats after exactly 5,700,000 years, with April 19 being the most common date, happening 220,400 times or 3.9%, compared to the median for all dates of 189,525 times or 3.3%."

Most of the Eastern Churches follow the same basic principles but often celebrate Easter on a date different from Catholics and other Western Christians because they continue to follow the calendar of Julius Caesar without the corrections incorporated by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582.

Julius Caesar's calendar (from 46 B.C.) calculated the year as 365 days and 6 hours and thus was about 11 minutes and 9 seconds more than the Earth's actual course. Although tiny, this excess puts the calendar off by a day, more or less, every 128 years. Thus, the Council of Nicaea already found it necessary to regress the date of the spring equinox to March 21 instead of the original date of March 25.

By the time of Gregory XIII the difference had grown so much that the spring equinox occurred on March 11.

In 1581 with the bull "Inter Gravissimas" Pope Gregory promulgated a widespread reform which, among other things, re-established the spring equinox on March 21 by eliminating 10 days from October 1582. Coincidence would have it that St. Teresa of Avila died on that very night of Oct. 4-15.

The error of Julius Caesar's calendar was corrected by deciding that the turn of the century -- always a leap year in the Julian calendar -- would be so only when the year could be divided by 400, that is 1600, 2000, 2400, 2800, etc., whereas there would be no leap year in the others.

Most Catholic countries, and even some Protestant ones, accepted the reform almost immediately. Some countries, such as England, held off accepting the papal reform until 1752 while Russia did not adopt it until after the Communist takeover in 1918.

The calculation is still not perfect as there is still a difference of 24 seconds between the legal and the solar calendar. However, 3,500 years will have to pass before another day is added.

Although all Western countries now use the Gregorian calendar for civil purposes, most Oriental Churches continue to use the Julian calendar to calculate Easter. The difference between the two systems is now 13 days, so that although the Orthodox Easter also falls between March 22 and April 25 (inclusive), these dates correspond to between April 4 and May 8 (inclusive) in the Gregorian system.

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: Stamping the Faithful With Ashes

ROME, MARCH 29, 2011 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

In the wake of our March 15 column on using stamps to impose ashes on Ash Wednesday, a reader asked: "Your article states something about the priest washing his hands after distributing ashes. Does this mean that ashes are not supposed to be distributed by laymen assisting the priest? We usually have about four to six laypersons doing it along with him. I hope this is not illicit."

I used the rubric on washing the hands to underline that the minister should physically touch the ashes. The distribution of ashes is not reserved to the priest and deacons, and lay ministers may assist if required.

Another reader had asked about a practice in a German parish. He wrote: "Is it right to celebrate the Mass of Ash Wednesday on the First Sunday of Lent -- including the distribution of ashes -- as our priest does here? Since he began this three to four years ago many people no longer feel obliged to attend Mass on Ash Wednesday -- fasting and abstinence are no longer even remembered!"

Most Eastern Churches begin Lent ahead of the Roman rite on the Sunday before Ash Wednesday and do not celebrate Ash Wednesday as such. It is not permissible, however, for a Latin-rite priest to transfer Ash Wednesday to the following Sunday. The Sundays of Lent cannot be substituted with any other liturgy, not even for a solemnity such as the Annunciation.

It is probable that the priest is motivated by a good intention such as facilitating the imposition of ashes to as many people as possible. At the same time, it must be remembered that receiving ashes at the beginning of Lent, whether within or outside Mass, is a highly commendable but not obligatory practice for Catholics. There is no need to transfer a rite which nobody is obliged to attend.

This practice can also have the undesirable effect mentioned by our reader of obscuring the Ash Wednesday fast and abstinence in the mind of the faithful and perhaps even weakening the overall sense of Lent as a penitential season.

I would therefore suggest to our correspondent that he approach either the priest, or if necessary the bishop, so that this practice is abandoned in the future.

The Spirit of the Liturgy: The Use of Missals and Missalettes During Mass

ROME, MARCH 25, 2011 (Zenit.org).- The use of missals by the laity, at least on mainland Europe, extends for considerably more than two centuries, providing access to the riches of the liturgy for lay people increasingly interested in the liturgical action unfolding before them.

In countries where religious persecution was a reality, such as in Great Britain during penal times, the possession of such a book would have provided opponents of the Catholic faith with adequate evidence of adherence to "popery." It was not, in the British context, unknown in recusancy, for the texts of certain Masses as well as the ordinary of the Mass to be printed within a broader devotional manual aimed at a catechesis of the faithful.

In Italy, the influence of the Synod of Pistoia in 1786, three years prior to the French Revolution, had its effects on the Italian liturgical movement (1672-1750) begun by L.A. Muratori, which stressed the need for increased access to the texts as intrinsic to any process of liturgical reform. Between 1788 and 1792 there appeared translations into Italian of the Mass both in the Ambrosian and Roman rites with explanations given about principal feasts, which were contained within a guide to prayer for pious faithful.

Similar happenings were found in France and Germany that mushroomed when inspired by the liturgical initiatives of Dom Prosper Guéranger during the 19th century. The use of missals fostered a manifestly liturgical association with the liturgy which incorporated the literate into the intricacies of the liturgy celebrated in Latin and schooled them in liturgical prayer.

Missals often included the texts of vespers for Sundays, which became a feature of many parishes especially in France, the Netherlands and Germany. During the 20th century, missals increasingly contained with catechetical material about the liturgical year, commentaries on sacred Scripture and about eucological texts. Responding to the Liturgical Movement heralded by Pope St Pius X, the Cabrol Missal and the Missal of St André were in the forefront.

Symbol of unity, identity

In our present day, at celebrations of the extraordinary form, missals are a considered pre-requisite, not only as a means of participating in texts which are often intentionally silent, but, more crucially, as a means of following the texts of Scripture as well as those of particular rites attached to certain days which would not be familiar. They contain an abridged version of the rubrics when compared to those contained in the altar missal. They also provide a collection of texts and illustrations of sacred art found conducive to prayer and meditation and which help to detract from inevitable distractions. Since missals could be as artistically beautiful as expensive, the faithful make sacrifices to possess one. Correspondingly, they have developed with time into a symbol of Catholic identity and pride.

In the context of the ordinary form, the purpose of a missal for participating at Mass is less clear. Though many people choose to possess one, maybe culturally inspired by the previous example, and who bring it diligently to Mass each week, the hermeneutic of participation has changed. This change has affected people to the extent that many have simply stopped using them. However, a missal remains a huge support to those who are deaf or hard of hearing and in situations where the proclamation of texts is, in practice, barely audible.

Speaking at cross-purposes about what is meant by a missal in the ordinary form is a risk. For laypeople, it is the book they use if they desire to follow the texts at Mass. In an updated style, a missal contains all that is needed in one volume, together with whatever liturgical and scriptural commentaries the edition decides to include. For the clergy, the missal is to be distinguished from the lectionary since the missal does not contain the scriptural readings proclaimed at Mass.

The majority of Catholics have grasped, if only from what they have witnessed in recent generations, that the Liturgical Movement of the 20th century strove to reform the liturgy. Few have necessarily appreciated that, when "Sacrosanctum Concilium" called for the reform of the liturgy, it did so by calling for its reform in partnership with its promotion ("Sacrosanctum Concilium," No. 1). Far from being diminished in importance, the liturgical life of the Church was to grow in prominence.

In order for it to do so, it was necessary that the liturgy communicate effectively what it celebrates so that the minds and hearts of those who celebrate it would be able to articulate themselves what was being promoted. That hermeneutic underpinned the direction of "Sacrosanctum Concilium": "Pastors of souls must therefore realize that when the liturgy is celebrated, something more is required than the mere observation of the laws governing valid and licit celebration; it is their duty also to ensure that the faithful take part fully aware of what they are doing, actively engaged in the rite and enriched by its fruits" (No. 11).

Set aside

Steadily, since Vatican II, missals have been depended on less in the promotion of liturgical life within the celebration as people have learned their responses and to make them together "as befits a community" ("Sacrosanctum Concilium," No. 21). The readings are read aloud with the assistance of a sound system and from an ambo that faces the assembly. Many of those who once followed texts in missals became lectors, thus discovering a new and sincere piety as they found themselves exercising a genuine liturgical function.

Clergy, encouraged by "Sacrosanctum Concilium," based their preaching on the readings of the day, with the result that sermons gave way to homilies rooted in liturgical preaching. Consequently, as they grew familiar with the rites, people needed, less and less, to read accompanying material to give them structural indications. They would, in greater numbers, subsequently, set aside their missals.

Also, for the first name in centuries, they would begin to use the word "homily" as "homilists" spoke throughout the liturgical year, now moved by "Sacrosanctum Concilium" Nos. 51 and 52, whose opening phrases are "The treasures of the Bible" and "By means of the homily." Clergy were further reinforced by the centrality of a liturgical communication of Scripture by "Dei Verbum": "Clergy must hold fast to sacred Scriptures through diligent sacred reading and careful study [] so that none of them will become 'an empty preacher of the Word of God outwardly who is not a listener to it inwardly'" (No. 25).

Ironically, the use of missals and of missalettes are about to make a comeback as parishes grapple with the new translations of the third edition of the Roman Missal. It remains to be seen if the renewed publication of missals for the ordinary form in the light of forthcoming new translations will augur a new interest in their communal use in the liturgy in the long term. What is certain is that these publications need to be imbued with the spirit of the liturgy and encourage conformity to what the Church is asking of us in this renewed opportunity for an authentic catechesis on the Mass gleaned from insights of the new translations.

In order that the faithful should be led anew to a genuinely "fully conscious and active participation in liturgical celebrations" ("Sacrosanctum Concilium," 14), those entrusted with the implementation of the new missal will need a refresher on "how to observe the liturgical laws' ("Sacrosanctum Concilium," 17). Then, missals and other supplementary material will bring forth the beacon of unity that is a celebrated liturgy, faithfully reformed and promoted, so that it is "taught under its theological, historical, spiritual, pastoral and juridical aspects" ("Sacrosanctum Concilium," No. 16).

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Benedictine Father Paul Gunter is a professor of the Pontifical Institute of Liturgy Rome and Consulter to the Office of the Liturgical Celebrations of the Supreme Pontiff.

Article: Savior Siblings: At What Moral Cost?

WASHINGTON, D.C., MARCH 23, 2011 (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 please clarify the concept of a "savior sibling"? Some argue that a child conceived to save his older brother or sister is "conceived to be used." But the child per se is not used at all, only the child's umbilical cord. Please clarify. Sincerely, D.V.M -- Bellflower, California

E. Christian Brugger offers the following response:

A: Lisa Nash, mother of the world's first "savior sibling," said she would do "anything" to save her daughter's life.[1] Her daughter Molly was diagnosed at birth (in 1994) with Fanconi Anemia, a serious genetic disorder in which patients can suffer bone marrow failure, birth defects, developmental abnormalities, a heightened risk of leukemia and premature death. Lisa and her husband Jack were told that the best way to help Molly was to give her a blood and marrow transplant from a genetically matched sibling. But Molly was an only child. Her parents had been considering conceiving again, but decided against it because of the high probability -- about 25% -- that the child would suffer the same illness.

Then Lisa and Jack were told about pre-implantation genetic diagnosis (PGD), a screening procedure performed on embryos prior to implantation. Embryos are generated in a laboratory using in-vitro fertilization (IVF), then tested for the desired genetic traits; only those that are perfect matches are implanted into a female uterus. "Abnormal" embryos -- or in this case embryos not genetically matched to Molly -- are destroyed.

The Nashes agreed. After four agonizing trials, and the creation of 30 embryos, the Nashes finally got their disease-free child, Adam, an exact blood match for his sister Molly. He was born in October 2000 at Fairview Hospital in Minneapolis. Specialists successfully transferred tissue and blood from Adam's umbilical cord into Molly's body. And his sister's life was saved.

Adam is called a "savior sibling," not because -- as in the Christian use of the term -- he sacrificed his life for another, but rather because he was generated -- was brought into the world -- and selected to provide a life-saving remedy for another. His successful gestation meant the difference between life and death for Molly. After implantation, he was not subjected to disproportionately risky procedures for his sister's sake; his organs were not harvested and his body was not violated to save her; using his umbilical cord after birth was harmless to him. And although he was generated for his sister's sake, we cannot presume his parents do not love him today for his own sake, and care for him as best they can.

Yet the fact remains: 29 human embryos were sacrificed to save Molly. His mother, Lisa, stated in 2001 in an interview with CNN, "That's what we had to do for us; and I would hope that people who felt this was inappropriate would feel it was inappropriate for them and not judge me unless they've been where I've been."[2]

Now nobody would ever wish to be where the Nashes were with their daughter Molly; suffering with a child who suffers from a fatal condition such as Fanconi Anemia. Moreover, we cannot scrutinize the level of knowledge or measure of culpability of other people in doing the things they do. In this sense, we should not attempt to judge Lisa Nash's conscience.

But, we can and must make judgments about the objective morality of certain kinds of actions and condemn those actions that are objectively wrong. Moral disapproval of the eugenic selection of IVF embryos using PGD does not principally concern a 'feeling of inappropriateness.' It concerns a judgment that creating and killing human embryos for the benefit of others is always gravely wrong.

Dangerous road

All the endless rationalizing about embryos not being human, or not yet fully human, or not persons, or lacking moral worth, or not being 'like us,' have paved a dangerously tempting path for people in crisis situations to travel down. We unblinkingly focus on the benefits promised at the end of the path and avert our eyes from the monstrous injustices caused to human embryos.

Moreover, bringing a child into the world, not for his own sake but for the benefit of another treats him as a means to an end; it instrumentalizes him. This violates the moral requirement of the natural law (articulated in Kant's "Categorical Imperative" and Karol Wojtyla's "Personalistic Norm") directing that we treat other persons -- precisely because they are persons -- always as ends in themselves. The fact that a "savior sibling" may be loved and cherished after his utilitarian purpose has been served does not erase the wrong done to him in creating him for another's benefit.

Some believe this latter argument is speciously abstract. If parents intend to love the "savior sibling" as much as his older sibling, no harm, and therefore no wrong, is done to him. I would agree only this far: If parents already intended to have another child, conceived the child in licit ways, and then utilized the child's discarded umbilical cord to save another, then certainly there is no wrongdoing in this.

But parents who envisage another pregnancy precisely for the purpose of benefiting one of their other children; and who initiate the pregnancy for that purpose -- even aside from the problems of IVF and eugenic selection of embryos -- have harmed and done wrong to their child. They wronged him by not bringing him into the world as the subject of a loving communion between themselves and the child, but in the context of a relationship of "maker" to "thing made," as a useful (indeed very useful in the case of "savior siblings") instrument to serve their purposes. "But what noble purposes!" the Utilitarian always cries. Indeed, but at what moral cost?

Can anyone doubt that if after two week's gestation (or four, six, eight, 15, 22, etc.), the doctors told the parents that the only way to save the older sibling was to terminate the pregnancy and to culture the embryonic/fetal tissue for creating a life-saving serum, the parents -- having initiated the pregnancy for an instrumental purpose -- would seriously contemplate abortion. Is there any doubt that some, perhaps many, would -- in their desperation for results -- consent to the repugnant alternative? If embryos are considered disposable before implantation, what logic secures their inviolability after implantation?

Dead end

We've come a long way down this dead-end street. Today we generate embryos in vitro, grow them in Petri dishes, biopsy them, select the ones that please us most, mail them to India to be gestated, freeze them and earmark their frozen bodies for a variety of future uses; and when we no longer feel they are useful to us, we magnanimously donate them to science or flush them down the sink.

But since we all were once embryos, and in relation to the fullness of life in the Kingdom for which Christians hope, we are right now in an embryonic kind of existence; when we dehumanize them, we dehumanize ourselves and everyone else.

Can the genie ever get back in the bottle? Can we humanize the embryo in the minds of our neighbors and associates? Only with difficulty. If we've dehumanized the fetus to nine months, defending embryos will be onerous.

But encouraging signs are afoot. Just last week, the Oklahoma House passed a bill (HB 1442) that would prohibit embryo-destructive research in the state, and the Minnesota legislature is moving ahead with a bill to prohibit the cloning of human embryos, including so-called "therapeutic cloning."

In the meantime, we can always ask those tempted to run rough shod over our little brothers and sisters, "If you were an embryo, how would you want to be treated?" You know, the Golden Rule and all that.

NOTES

[1] For more information, see http://news.minnesota.publicradio.org/features/200010/18_scheckt_babies

[2] For more information, see http://articles.cnn.com/2001-06-27/health/embryo.testing_1_genetic-diagnosis-genetic-testing-genetic-defect?_s=PM:HEALTH

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E. Christian Brugger is a Senior Fellow of Ethics and director of the Fellows Program at the Culture of Life Foundation; and the J. Francis Cardinal Stafford Chair of Moral Theology at St. John Vianney Theological Seminary in Denver, Colorado.

Anecdote: An Airport Encounter

ARCHBISHOP TIMOTHY DOLAN

As I was waiting for the electronic train to take me to the terminal, a man, maybe in his mid-forties, came closer to me. "I was raised a Catholic," he said, "and now as a father of two boys, I can't look at you or any other priest without thinking of a sexual abuser."

Archbishop Timothy Michael Dolan

It was only the third time it had happened to me in my nearly thirty-five happy years as a priest, all three times over the last nine-and-a-half years.

Other priests tell me it has happened to them a lot more.

Three is enough. Each time has left me so shaken I was near nausea.

It happened last Friday . . .

I had just arrived at the Denver Airport, there to speak at their popular annual "Living Our Catholic Faith" conference.

As I was waiting with the others for the electronic train to take me to the terminal, a man, maybe in his mid-forties, waiting as well, came closer to me.

"Are you a Catholic priest?" he kindly asked.

"Sure am. Nice to meet you," says I, as I offered my hand.

He ignored it. "I was raised a Catholic," he replied, almost always a hint of a cut to come, but I was not prepared for the razor sharpness of the stiletto, as he went on, "and now, as a father of two boys, I can't look at you or any other priest without thinking of a sexual abuser."

What to respond? Yell at him? Cuss him out? Apologize? Deck him? Express understanding? I must admit all such reactions came to mind as I staggered with shame and anger from the damage of the wound he had inflicted with those stinging words.

"Well," I recovered enough to remark, "I'm sure sorry you feel that way. But, let me ask you, do you automatically presume a sexual abuser when you see a Rabbi or Protestant minister?"

"Not at all," he came back through gritted teeth as we both boarded the train.

"How about when you see a coach, or a boy scout leader, or a foster parent, or a counsellor, or physician?" I continued.

"Of course not!" he came back. "What's all that got to do with it?"

"A lot," I stayed with him, "because each of those professions have as high a percentage of sexual abuse, if not even higher, than that of priests."

"Well, that may be," he retorted. "But the Church is the only group that knew it was going on, did nothing about it, and kept transferring the perverts around."

"You obviously never heard the stats on public school teachers," I observed. "In my home town of New York City alone, experts say the rate of sexual abuse among public school teachers is ten times higher than that of priests, and these abusers just get transferred around." (Had I known at that time the news in in last Sunday's New York Times about the high rate of abuse of the most helpless in state supervised homes, with reported abusers simply transferred to another home, I would have mentioned that, too.)

To that he said nothing, so I went in for a further charge.

Notwithstanding the happy ending, I was still trembling . . . and almost felt like I needed an exorcism to expel my shattered soul, as I had to confront again the horror this whole mess has been to victims and their families, our Catholic people like the man I had just met . . . and to us priests.

"Pardon me for being so blunt, but you sure were with me, so, let me ask: when you look at yourself in a mirror, do you see a sex abuser?"

Now he was as taken aback as I had been two-minutes before. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Sadly," I answered, "studies tell us that most children sexually abused are victims of their own fathers or other family members."

Enough of the debate, I concluded, as I saw him dazed. So I tried to calm it down.

"So, I tell you what: when I look at you, I won't see a sex abuser, and I would appreciate the same consideration from you."

The train had arrived at baggage claim, and we both exited together.

"Well then, why do we only hear this garbage about you priests," he inquired, as he got a bit more pensive.

"We priests wonder the same thing. I've got a few reasons if you're interested."

He nodded his head as we slowly walked to the carousel.

"For one," I continued, "we priests deserve the more intense scrutiny, because people trust us more as we dare claim to represent God, so, when on of us do it – even if only a tiny minority of us ever have – it is more disgusting."

"Two, I'm afraid there are many out there who have no love for the Church, and are itching to ruin us. This is the issue they love to endlessly scourge us with."

"And, three, I hate to say it," as I wrapped it up, "there's a lot of money to be made in suing the Catholic Church, while it's hardly worth suing any of the other groups I mentioned before."

We both by then had our luggage, and headed for the door. He then put his hand out, the hand he had not extended five minutes earlier when I had put mine out to him. We shook.

"Thanks. Glad I met you."

He halted a minute. "You know, I think of the great priests I knew when I was a kid. And now, because I work in IT at Regis University, I know some devoted Jesuits. Shouldn't judge all you guys because of the horrible sins of a few."

"Thanks!," I smiled.

I guess things were patched-up, because, as he walked away, he added, "At least I owe you a joke: What happens when you can't pay your exorcist?"

"Got me," I answered.

"You get 're-possessed'!"

We both laughed and separated.

Notwithstanding the happy ending, I was still trembling . . . and almost felt like I needed an exorcism to expel my shattered soul, as I had to confront again the horror this whole mess has been to victims and their families, our Catholic people like the man I had just met . . . and to us priests.

---

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Archbishop Timothy Michael Dolan. "An Airport Encounter." The Gospel In The Digital Age (March 18, 2011).

Reprinted by permission of the media office of the Archdiocese of New York. The Gospel In The Digital Age is Archbishop Dolan's blog.

THE AUTHOR

Archbishop Timothy Michael Dolan was named Archbishop of New York by Pope Benedict XVI on February 23, 2009. Born February 6, 1950, Archbishop Dolan was ordained to the priesthood on June 19, 1976. He completed his priestly formation at the Pontifical North American College in Rome where he earned a License in Sacred Theology at the Pontifical University of St. Thomas. In 1994, he was appointed rector of the Pontifical North American College in Rome where he served until June 2001. While in Rome, he also served as a visiting professor of Church History at the Pontifical Gregorian University and as a faculty member in the Department of Ecumenical Theology at the Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas. The work of the Archbishop in the area of seminary education has influenced the life and ministry of a great number of priests of the new millennium. Archbishop Dolan is the author of Doers of the Word: Putting Your Faith Into Practice, To Whom Shall We Go?, and Advent Reflections: Come, Lord Jesus!.

Copyright © 2011 Archbishop Timothy Michael Dolan

Article: Is Free Will an Illusion?

DONALD DEMARCO

Do we have free will? Are we truly responsible for our actions? Or, on the other hand, are we merely passive pawns who are completely at the mercy of impersonal or alien forces?

Jennifer Mee is a 19-year-old Floridian who is charged with first-degree murder. The mainstream media, as is its wont, has put an interesting spin on her situation.

The young teenager had been afflicted with round-the-clock hiccups for over a month. These hiccups assailed her as often as 50 times per minute. Was it the hiccups that contributed to her distraught condition that led to the crime? And to what extent? Jennifer’s mother puts the blame squarely on the "curse of the hiccups."

The so-called "hiccup defense" brings to mind other imaginative ways of exculpating a person from a crime. One may recall the celebrated "Twinkie defense" (too much sugar), "I was programmed by my genes," "temporary insanity" or that old chestnut: "The devil made me do it."

The court will decide whether Mee is guilty as charged, though we know that the judicial process does not enjoy infallibility. The "hiccup girl," as media reports describe her, does raise an age-old question, one that is a good topic for discussions around the water cooler: Do we have free will? Are we truly responsible for our actions? Or, on the other hand, are we merely passive pawns who are completely at the mercy of impersonal or alien forces?

The wrong way of going about trying to answer this question is to begin with a particular case, such as the one that Jennifer Mee is embroiled in, and then try to reach some universal conclusion.

If we begin with something confusing, we remain immersed in confusion. The way to deal with the issue of free will is to start from a position that is clear and indubitable, namely from the nature of the human being.

We are rational beings. This means first and foremost that we possess reason. Now, this simple statement is devoid of controversy. No one asks, "Is there such a thing as reason?" The omnipresence of the computer is sufficient proof that human beings both possess and employ reason. But people often ask the question, "Is there such a thing as free will?"

There is an easy and direct way of answering this question in the affirmative, one that is essentially the way Aristotle and Aquinas answered it.

We are free precisely because we are rational. Reason and freedom are profoundly interrelated. And just as there is no doubt that we are rational, there is also no doubt that we are free.

Because we are rational, we are able to survey an array of possible choices.

Let us say that I want to watch TV. I use my reason to explore something that might be informative, edifying and entertaining. I am not compelled, mindlessly, to watch one program or another (such a compulsion would be the gist of a horror story). But the mere recognition that I have all the reasons I need to watch a particular program is not enough.

I need to choose to watch the program. Therefore, this additional faculty, called "free will," is needed so that I can complement my act of reason with an act of free choice and actually watch the program.

Reason and will are both spiritual faculties. As such, they are personal expressions of our nature as human beings. There is good reason why St. Thomas Aquinas refers to the will as the "rational appetite."

It is because the will is a desire (or inclination) that follows and is congruent with reason. In other words, our capacity for free choice is set up for us by reason.

Reason locates the good and then the will chooses it. We are free precisely because we are rational. And since no one disputes whether we are rational, no one should dispute whether we are free.

Reason and will are both spiritual faculties. As such, they are personal expressions of our nature as human beings. There is good reason why St. Thomas Aquinas refers to the will as the "rational appetite."

There are problems, to be sure. The clear water can be muddied by the addition of extraneous factors. Reason may be mistaken about what it takes to be good. There may be forces that overpower our ability to choose reasonably. We are not creatures of perfect integrity. But such problems belong more to the domain of psychology and jurisprudence than to that of philosophy.

We are, by nature, spiritual beings who are both rational and free. We should strive to be true to our nature and live a life of dynamic integrity in which we freely choose what our reason rightly identifies as good. It is most important for us to know this. We need not be distracted or confused by bizarre cases.

Concerning Jennifer Mee, the court will render a verdict. One hopes that it will be fair and just. We ourselves need not decide whether she acted freely with respect to the crime for which she has been charged. But we can take charge of our own lives and recognize that it is our nature to be free and that our freedom is grounded in our reason.

Thus, reason is the formal and unifying principle of ethics, not freedom. Reason comes first, and freedom follows. When people put reason aside in the mistaken hope of enlarging their freedom, they fail to preserve either. We preserve our freedom by maintaining its spiritual affinity with reason. And this is exactly what John Paul II meant by "becoming a person."

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Donald DeMarco. "Is Free Will an Illusion?" National Catholic Register (February 4, 2011).

This article is reprinted with permission from National Catholic Register. To subscribe to the National Catholic Register call 1-800-421-3230.

THE AUTHOR

Donald DeMarco is adjunct professor at Holy Apostles College & Seminary in Cromwell, Connecticut and Professor Emeritus at St. Jerome's University in Waterloo Ontario. He also continues to work as a corresponding member of the Pontifical Acadmy for Life. Donald DeMarco has written hundreds of articles for various scholarly and popular journals, and is the author of twenty books, including The Heart of Virtue, The Many Faces of Virtue, Virtue's Alphabet: From Amiability to Zeal andArchitects Of The Culture Of Death. Donald DeMarco is on the Advisory Board of The Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 2011 National Catholic Register

Article: The iPhone App and the Return to Confession

FATHER ROBERT BARRON

The practice of sacramental confession in the Catholic Church dropped off precipitously and practically overnight about forty years ago.

Prior to the Second Vatican Council, Catholics came regularly and in great numbers to confess their sins to a priest, but then, just like that, they stopped coming. Analysts have proposed a variety of reasons for this sharp decline – a greater stress on God's love, a desire to move away from a fussy preoccupation with sexual peccadilloes, the sense that confession is not necessary for salvation, etc. – but whatever the cause or causes, the practice has certainly fallen into desuetude.

Fr. Andrew Greeley, the well-known priest-sociologist, once formulated the principle that whatever Catholics drop, someone else inevitably picks up. So, for example, we Catholics, after the Council, stopped talking about the soul, out of fear that the category would encourage dualistic thinking – and then we discovered, in the secular culture, a plethora of books on the care of the soul, including a wildly popular series on "chicken soup for the soul." Similarly, the Catholic Church became reluctant to speak of angels and devils – and then we witnessed, in the wider society, an explosion of books and films about these fascinating spiritual creatures.

Well, a very good example of the Greeley principle is way in which the practice of sacramental confession – largely extinct in the church – pops up in somewhat distorted form all over the extra-ecclesial world. What do we witness on the daytime talk shows – Oprah, Jerry Springer, Montel, Maury, etc. – but a series of people coming forward to confess their sins, usually of a sexual nature? And what do we see on the numerous "judgment" shows – Judge Judy, Judge Mathis, American Idol, Dr. Phil, Dancing With the Stars, etc. – but people being forced to accept a kind of punishment for their bad or inadequate behavior? What this demonstrates, I would argue, is that the need to confess our sins and to receive some sort of judgment and/or word of comfort is hard-wired into our spirits. When we don't have the opportunity to deal with our sin in the proper ecclesiastical context, we will desperately cast about for a substitute.

All of this came to mind when I read just recently about an iPhone application called "Confession: A Roman Catholic App" which is designed, not to forgive sins (you still need to see a priest for that!) but to prepare people for reconciliation. The app includes an examination of conscience, a step-by-step guide to the celebration of the sacrament, and other prayers. Official Vatican spokesman Fr. Federico Lombardi weighed in yesterday to clarify that this program is not a substitute for actual confession to a priest, but he also noted that it might be a very helpful aid, especially for those who have been away from the sacrament for a long time as well as for young people who are attuned to the digital world.

I can honestly say that some of the best and most spiritually rewarding moments of my twenty-five years of priesthood have been in the context of hearing confessions. And I can't tell you the number of people who have said to me over the years some version of "Father, I'm so grateful that I came to confession after all this time."

I think that, on balance, this iPhone app is a good thing, for I strongly believe that whatever helps Catholics experience the beauty and power of confession is of great value. Many Catholics of a certain age can tell you horror stories about psychological abuse in the confessional by priests who were hung up on sexual sins, or all too eager to threaten eternal damnation, or perhaps just cranky from sitting in a box for hours. And many priests (including myself) could tell you tales of people coming to confession for trivial reasons or out of obsessive-compulsive neurosis. But as the Romans said long ago, abusus non tollit usum (just because something can be abused, doesn't mean that we should get rid of it).

I can honestly say that some of the best and most spiritually rewarding moments of my twenty-five years of priesthood have been in the context of hearing confessions. And I can't tell you the number of people who have said to me over the years some version of "Father, I'm so grateful that I came to confession after all this time."

Not long ago, I was with a group of priests and we were discussing the issue of general absolution, and a number of my colleagues were suggesting that it would be a legitimate means to bring people back to the sacrament. But then one priest spoke up: "Don't all of you go to a priest and confess your sins and receive individual absolution?" We all agreed. And then he said, "And don't you all find it to be a powerful experience?" We all concurred. "Then why," he continued, "do you want something less for lay people?" It was a very good question.

So I would say to my fellow Catholics – especially to those who have been away from Confession for a long time – try this app. It can't hurt – and it might prove to be a way to encounter the Christ who came to forgive our sins.

Perhaps we might consider all of the judges whom we obviously love to watch to be minor icons of the Judge in whose light we ought to live.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Father Robert Barron, "The iPhone App and the Return to Confession." Our Sunday Visitor(February 20, 2011).

Reprinted with permission of Father Robert Barron.

THE AUTHOR

Fr. Robert Barron was ordained a priest for the Archdiocese of Chicago in 1986. He has a Masters degree in Philosophy from the Catholic University of America and a Doctorate in Sacred Theology from the Institute Catholique de Paris. He is currently professor of systematic theology at the University of St. Mary of the Lake, Mundelein Seminary. Fr. Barron is the author of, And Now I See: A Theology of Transformation, Thomas Aquinas: Spiritual Master, Heaven in Stone and Glass: Experiencing the Spirituality of the Great Cathedrals, Eucharist (Catholic Spirituality for Adults),Priority of Christ, The: Toward a Postliberal Catholicism, and Word on File: Proclaiming the Power of Christ. He also gives frequent talks, retreats and workshops on issues of theology and spirituality.

Father Barron uses his YouTube channel to reach out to people and bring valuable lessons of faith alive by pointing out things that can be learned by watching popular characters of movies and television shows.

Copyright © 2011 Father Robert Barron

Wednesday Liturgy: Confession Before Baptism

ROME, MARCH 22, 2011 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: A young lady of about 13 years came to me for confession at a parish. She said that this was her first confession, and I asked her if she knew what it was all about. She said, "No" and then I asked her if she was baptized. She said, "No" also to this, whereupon I told her that she couldn't receive the sacrament, as of course she had not been baptized. She then said that she had been told that the teacher of the RCIA class had told her to come to me, as she was to be baptized at Easter (after three months of catechumenate). I tried to explain to her what the sacraments were -- to her great surprise, as she knew nothing about them! Off she went, and later on I understood that she had gone to the parish priest for confession. I saw him later about this, and he concurred that he had in fact told her to go to confession, even though she had not been baptized. His reason was that "I would not have had the time to hear her confession before the Easter ceremonies, and so I considered it better for her to go to confession now, rather than wait for after the Easter ceremonies." This whole situation was new to me, as I have been a priest for almost 40 years, and I have never had to face such a peculiar state of affairs. Have you anything to say about this? -- J.B., Province of Ontario

A: It would appear that the pastor is somewhat misinformed regarding the nature of the sacrament of reconciliation and of baptism.

First, the sacrament of baptism is the door to the other sacraments, and no sacrament can be validly received beforehand. Second, one of the primary effects of baptism is the total forgiveness and wiping out of all sins committed before the reception of the sacrament.

For both of these reasons, confession before baptism is both impossible and unnecessary.

The case is different for a person who has been already baptized in a Protestant denomination and is to be received into the Catholic Church. In this case confession is recommended before formal reception and confirmation.

It is also possible that an adult catechumen with a somewhat checkered history might desire to prepare for baptism by unburdening his conscience in a confession-like dialogue with a priest. A priest may accept such a dialog as a pastoral measure but should make clear that it is not the sacrament of reconciliation and that absolution will not follow the conversation.

In the light of this question I would like to take up a related earlier theme. The following query arrived about a column on why deacons cannot administer the anointing of the sick (see Feb. 15 follow-up).

One deacon asked: "I have faculties to baptize adults. Does that act not forgive sin? If a layperson baptizes in extremis, does that act not forgive sin? This link of forgiveness to the priesthood is not exclusive."

A common legal principle is: "Distinguish the times and bring the laws into concordance." In other words, each sacrament must be taken in its own context, and what is true for one is not necessarily true for others.

Thus, as we saw above, one of the effects of baptism is total forgiveness of sin. This is in virtue of the sacrament and not the minister. The deacon and priest are ordinary ministers of this sacrament, though in extreme cases even a non-baptized person can validly baptize. In baptism the minister does not forgive sins: The minister baptizes and the sacrament has the effect of forgiving sins.

For post-baptismal mortal sin, however, the only ordinary minister of forgiveness is the priest. Venial sins may also be forgiven by acts of prayer, penance, sacrifice and other good works of Christian charity. It is true, furthermore, that in situations of grave necessity, when a priest is unavailable, God himself will forgive mortal sins to those who are perfectly contrite. This does not change the basic fact that the ordinary course for forgiveness is through the action of the priest.

Since one effect of the anointing the sick is forgiveness of all unconfessed post-baptismal sin, it follows that only the priest is a valid minister of this sacrament.

This doctrine was ratified in a Feb. 11, 2005 "Note on the Minister of the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick" from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith signed by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger. The note says:

"The Code of Canon Law, in can. 1003 1 (cf. also can. 739 1 of the Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches) exactly reflects the doctrine expressed by the Council of Trent (Session XIV, can. 4: DS 1719; cf. also the Catechism of the Catholic Church, n. 1516), which states that 'only priests (Bishops and presbyters) are ministers of the Anointing of the Sick.'

"This doctrine is definitive tenenda [definitively held]. Neither deacons nor lay persons may exercise the said ministry, and any action in this regard constitutes a simulation of the Sacrament."

A letter accompanying the note explains the theological logic behind the note and broadens some points:

"In these last decades theological tendencies have appeared which cast doubt on the Church's teaching that the minister of the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick 'est omnis et solus sacerdos'. The approach to the subject has been mainly pastoral, with special consideration for those regions in which the shortage of priests makes it difficult to administer the Sacrament promptly, whereas the problem could be overcome if permanent deacons and even qualified lay people could be delegated to administer the Sacrament.

"The Note of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith intends to call attention to these trends to avert the risk of possible attempts to put them into practice, to the detriment of the faith and with serious spiritual damage to the sick, whom it is desired to help."

There follows a historical overview of the doctrine after which the document concludes:

"The doctrine which holds that the minister of the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick 'est omnis et solus sacerdos' enjoys such a degree of theological certainty that it must be described as a doctrine 'definitive tenenda.' The Sacrament is not valid if a deacon or a layman attempts to administer it. Such an action would be a crime of simulation in the administration of a sacrament, to be penalized in accordance with can. 1379, CIC (cf. can. 1443, CCEO).

"To conclude, it would indeed be appropriate to recall that through the sacrament he has received the priest makes present in a quite special way the Lord Jesus Christ, Head of the Church.

"In the administration of the sacraments, he acts in persona Christi Capitis and in persona Ecclesiae. The person who acts in this Sacrament is Jesus Christ; the priest is the living and visible instrument. He represents and makes Christ present in a special way, which is why the Sacrament has special dignity and efficacy in comparison with a sacramental: therefore, as the inspired Word says concerning the Anointing of the Sick, 'the Lord will raise him up' (Jas 5:15).

"The priest also acts in persona Ecclesiae. The 'presbyters of the Church' (Jas 5:14) pray on behalf of the whole Church; as St Thomas Aquinas says on this subject: 'oratio illa non fit a sacerdote in persona sua ..., sed fit in persona totius Ecclesiae' (Summa Theologiae, Supplementum, q. 31, a1, ad 1). Such a prayer is heard."

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: "Sunday Mass" on Mondays

ROME, MARCH 22, 2011 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Quite a number of readers commented on the celebration of the Sunday liturgy on a weekday (see March 8). We will try to address them as succinctly as possible.

One reader wrote, "In your reply you did not question whether the local ordinary had allowed this for some legitimate reason."

I did not question this as I presumed that such a celebration had been authorized by the local ordinary, since a parish priest would not have the authority to do so.

However, even the local ordinary would need to consult with the Holy See if he desired to habitually authorize the celebration of the Sunday liturgy on a weekday. Permanent changes to the liturgical calendar do not fall under the exclusive competence of the local bishop.

Some of our correspondents mentioned authentic pastoral reasons that might allow for the celebration of the Sunday liturgy on weekdays, for example: rural parishes with many distant outstations, or hospitals where Mass can only be celebrated on a weekday.

However, even where permissions exist to repeat the celebration of the Sunday liturgy, the general rules of liturgical precedence must be respected as well as the integrity of the liturgical seasons. Likewise, the priest celebrant would always be free not to celebrate the Sunday liturgy on a weekday if he believed that the liturgy of the day would be of greater spiritual benefit.

In all such cases the change would only refer to the celebration of the liturgical formulas, not to changing the Sunday obligation. Although the Sunday liturgy is made available on a weekday, the faithful would not be obliged to attend since the obligation refers only to Sunday. And if Mass is unavailable on Saturday evening or Sunday, the obligation simply ceases to oblige according to the moral principle: "nobody is obliged to do the impossible."

This could help clarify the difficulty of another reader who wrote: "My daughter got a job about nine years ago as a registered nurse in a neurointensive care unit of the local hospital. She is required to work from 7 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. three weekends a month. At the time, our parish priest told her that her only option to fulfill her Sunday obligation would be to find another job. She loves what she does, and is very good at it, so she left the Catholic Church and joined a local Episcopal church. She is very active in this church, acting as the parish nurse, attending Sunday [services] when she can, attending Wednesday [services] regularly, and bringing up her three boys in the Episcopal church. I praise God that she still has faith and tries to live that faith, but it tears at my heart that she is no longer Catholic, participating with my wife and I in our local Catholic parish. Is the information she was given about finding another job really Catholic Church policy?"

I find it sad that such consequences came from inaccurate advice. If this were truly Church policy, there could be no Catholic firefighters, police, soldiers, ambulance drivers, airline pilots, and a long list of other professions besides. The Church has always understood that there are some socially necessary professions which impede assistance at Sunday Mass for the sake of the common good. This has never been a problem. Catholics doing such work are encouraged to do all that is within their power to attend Sunday Mass as often as possible and attempt to sanctify the Sunday as best they can through prayer.

As mentioned above, when the obligation is impossible, the obligation ceases and so Catholics in such situations do not commit a sin by not going to Mass. Attendance at a weekday Mass in such cases is highly recommendable but not required. In the concrete case of our correspondent's daughter, she could have peacefully continued in the Church and her profession although with the intention of eventually seeking a more flexible schedule that would allow her to attend Sunday Mass more often. I hope this reply might be of some help in bringing her back to Christ's Church.

Article: Theology of the Body and ‘Mature Purity’

JANET SMITH

It is important to remember that the theology of the body was not written to provide a program for teaching chastity.

John Paul II wrote it to establish a biblically based anthropology adequate to defend the teaching of Humanae Vitae. That is, he tried to show how Scripture could provide us with an understanding of the human person that would help us understand why the Church condemns contraception. This led him to meditate deeply on the meaning of the human body as a means of revealing the truth about God and man.

John Paul II establishes that our bodies reveal that we are meant to make gifts of ourselves to others and receive others as gifts. John Paul II explains that Adam and Eve were able to be naked and without shame because they were without sin; they understood and lived the "spousal meaning" of the body. They respected each other as persons and were not capable of using each other. Sin brought disordered passions, fig leaves, and the ever ready possibility of sexual misuse.

John Paul II, like Jesus, was not interested only in our external behavior, but even more so in our "subjectivity" or the quality of our interior life. He wrote chapters on Christ's words, "Whoever looks upon a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart" (Matthew 5:27-8). John Paul II viewed the source of sin as being in the "heart" rather than in the body: in our thoughts, emotions and commitments. Sin comes from the inside of man and moves outward.

John Paul II teaches that Christ was not so much accusing human beings of wrongdoing but making an appeal to us to live in the spirit of the redeemed body. Christ came to bring us the graces to enable us to live morally upright lives, not only in respect to our external behavior, but also in respect to the interior movements of our heart.

John Paul believes that we still have, in the deepest layer of our being, a potency to live in accord with the spousal meaning of the body (49:6). He implored us not to hold our hearts under constant suspicion, but to have confidence that the redemptive graces of Christ can restore purity to our hearts: "In mature purity, man enjoys the fruits of victory over concupiscence" (58:6). Without purity we will "use" those we wish to love: "Purity is a requirement of love. It is the dimension of the inner truth of love in man's 'heart'" (49:7).

In order to achieve chastity or purity, two things are necessary: 1) a proper understanding of the meaning and purpose of sexuality, and 2) the ordering of the passions in accord with that understanding. In the theology of the body, John Paul II is primarily establishing the right understanding of sexuality; he says very little about what needs to be done to achieve "mature purity." His description of it as "a combination of the virtue of temperance and of piety, a gift of the Holy Spirit" provides guidance. Acquiring virtue is largely a matter of habituation; those who would achieve "mature purity" must avoid the occasion of sin; for instance, they must avoid looking at or listening to entertainment that leads to impure thoughts and actions. Acquiring the gift of reverence (and here John Paul II means "reverence" for the gift of one's sexuality and the gift of another person) is largely a matter of growing in love of the Lord, which one does through praying with Scripture, receiving the sacraments, and engaging in any activity that promotes spiritual growth.

John Paul II, however, focuses on how proper understanding of sexuality can be of enormous assistance in achieving mature purity. Many who were quite enslaved to sexual sin report that once they came to understand the vision of sexuality that John Paul II spells out in the theology of the body, they were rather quickly freed from immoral sexual behavior and thoughts. Many people, of course, will not experience an easy transformation, but will eventually find a new way of thinking and behaving sexually.

"Purity is a requirement of love. It is the dimension of the inner truth of love in man's 'heart'" (49:7).

John Paul II explains that married couples who practice the abstinence required by natural family planning are highly likely to achieve "mature purity," for they are ordering their sexual lives to the proper goods of sexuality. Indeed, I know many married couples who practice their Catholic faith devoutly, who understand and live the spousal meaning of the body, and who, in fact, have achieved a very high level of "mature purity." Their love for their spouses has led them to discipline the movements of their "hearts" and "thoughts" so that they no longer experience any serious attraction to anyone but their spouses. They, in fact, are experiencing the "redemption of the body" that Christ promised to those who follow him.

Any chastity program based on the theology of the body would provide extended instruction on the state of man before the Fall, the challenges faced by fallen man, and the hope we have for mature purity in the light of redemption. It would need also to lay out a program for growing in the virtue of temperance and the gift of reverence. The promise that those who come to possess "mature purity" will become God-like and able to truly love their spouses and others should provide marvelous motivation for living out the spousal meaning of the body.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Janet E. Smith. "Theology of the Body and 'Mature Purity'." National Catholic Register (March 9, 2011).

This article is reprinted with permission from National Catholic Register. To subscribe to the National Catholic Register call 1-800-421-3230.

THE AUTHOR

Janet E. Smith holds the Father Michael J. McGivney Chair of Life Ethics at Sacred Heart Major Seminary in Detroit. She is the author of Life Issues, Medical Choices: Questions and Answers for Catholics, The Right to Privacy (Bioethics & Culture), Humanae Vitae: A Generation Laterand the editor of Why Humanae Vitae Was Right. She has published many articles on ethical and bioethics issues. She has taught at the University of Notre Dame and the University of Dallas. Prof. Smith has received the Haggar Teaching Award from the University of Dallas, the Prolife Person of the Year from the Diocese of Dallas, and the Cardinal Wright Award from the Fellowship of Catholic Scholars. She is serving a second term as a consultor to the Pontifical Council on the Family. Over a million copies of her talk, "Contraception: Why Not" have been distributed. Visit Janet Smith's web page here. See Janet Smith's audio tapes and writing here. Janet Smith is on the Advisory Board of the Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 2011 National Catholic Register

Article: The Lenten Thing

DAVID G. BONAGURA, JR.

A renewal in Lenten practices can be a powerful catalyst in rebuilding Catholic identity.

Last year I lost a bet with a group of students. The penalty? I had to bring them Dunkin' Donuts. After a few days of delaying tactics on my part, Lent arrived. One student asked when I would make good on my promise. She was stunned when I told her I would wait until after Easter. "Why?" she protested with disbelief and visible scorn. "Did you give up Dunkin Donuts for Lent?"

Her question reveals the prevailing notion of Catholic Lent: give up something we like, and hang on until Easter. Otherwise, we should just go about our daily business, with the treats and delicacies that we have come to see as par for the daily course. But if Lent is to have any real meaning and impact on our souls, it has to be more than a single repeated act of self-denial, as important as that act may be. The Church gives us a full season to accomplish the singular aim of Lent, and of the whole of Christian existence: conversion. Conversion requires self-denial, to be sure, but it also requires that everything we do and every aspect of our being conform to Christ. This is why Lent is a season – forty days, evenings, nights – spent in the desert with the Lord.

Living in the desert day and night is a cultural change for all of us with modern conveniences and busy social calendars. Weakened as we are by original sin, we are inclined to offer God a sacrifice of our choosing – sweets, alcohol, television, or some other non-essential item – but we do not even think to offer luxuries that have become normal to us: dinner or a movie out with our spouse and friends, purchasing new clothing or other items, morning coffee from Starbucks rather than the office kitchen. Rather than go the extra mile, we all tend to negotiate with God on our terms rather than His, for He demands too much of us.

But for conversion, for the true metanoia that is at the heart of Jesus' ministry to take place, we have to allow God into all aspects of our lives, morning, noon, and night. In Lent, we are called to live differently, to "sacrifice" even what is dear to us, according to the original meaning of the word: "to make holy." And when we make something holy we give it to God, removing it from human use.

The fasting regulations in force before 1966 were a powerful reminder of this: forty days with two half meals and one full meal, with abstinence from meat on Fridays. Of course, prayer and other devotions were (and still are) encouraged to orient fasting toward its ultimate goal: to die to self and to "put on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Romans 13:14). When lived with the proper spirit, one could not help but think about Lent: the Passion of our Lord, the sorrows of our own wounded pride, and the glory to come with the Resurrection.

Relaxing this fast to two days (Ash Wednesday and Good Friday) and allowing Catholics to choose their own penances has blunted the true force and character of Lent, which, to judge by the way we Catholics live today, is virtually indistinguishable from the rest of the year. We have traded the desert for the perpetual feast, and in doing so we forgot what the real Feast is all about.

The discipline of Lent – in addition to its spiritual benefits – also once served as a bulwark of Catholic identity in Protestant America as well. Now, bowing to the demands of secular religion, Lent has been reduced to a private, personal matter that cannot be seen in public. The weakening of our collective Lenten observances has coincided with the withering of our Catholic identity. And as our spiritual lives go, so go our public lives.

Lent may well be the most difficult aspect of Catholic life to recover. The desert is never a choice destination.

A renewal in Lenten practices can be a powerful catalyst in rebuilding Catholic identity. Pope John Paul II recognized the connection between identity and Catholic practice inChristifideles Laici, which Pope Benedict XVI recently quoted in own call to evangelization: "Without doubt a mending of the Christian fabric of society is urgently needed in all parts of the world. But for this to come about what is needed is to first remake the Christian fabric of the ecclesial community itselfpresent in these countries and nations." (emphasis in original)

Lent may well be the most difficult aspect of Catholic life to recover. The desert is never a choice destination. But just as the blood of the martyrs was the seed of the Church, our sacrifice of prayers, fasting, and almsgiving for a full forty days, evenings, and nights can re-grow our Catholic identity, even though this fine wheat will be surrounded by chaff. The donuts, the movies, the restaurants, and the credit cards cannot – and should not – follow us into the desert. But if we can leave them behind, we will not only enjoy the real Feast more deeply, but also learn the proper perspective on the earthly feasts the Lord has given us.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

David G. Bonagura, Jr. "The Lenten Thing." The Catholic Thing (March 9, 2011).

Reprinted with permission from The Catholic Thing. All rights reserved. For reprint rights, write to: info@thecatholicthing.org.

The Catholic thing – the concrete historical reality of Catholicism – is the richest cultural tradition in the world. That is the deep background to The Catholic Thing which bring you an original column every day that provides fresh and penetrating insight into the current situation along with other commentary, news, analysis, and – yes – even humor. Our writers include some of the most seasoned and insightful Catholic minds in America: Michael Novak, Ralph McInerny, Hadley Arkes, Michael Uhlmann, Mary Eberstadt, Austin Ruse, George Marlin, William Saunders, and many others.

THE AUTHOR

David G. Bonagura, Jr. is Adjunct Professor of Theology at the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception, Huntington, NY and an associate editor of The University Bookman.

Copyright © 2011 The Catholic Thing

Wednesday Liturgy: Stamping the Faithful With Ashes

ROME, MARCH 15, 2011 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: In my parish on Ash Wednesday, the priests and laypeople use this "stamp," shaped in the form of a Jerusalem cross. After dipping it in the ashes, they stamp the people, one by one, as if they were branding a cow or something. Is not the meaning of Ash Wednesday the act of making the sign of the cross on one's forehead with the finger? Is not the stamp a cold and uncaring act toward the congregation? Is this form of distributing ashes acceptable? -- P.G., New York

A: I have never heard or seen this particular practice except in some places in the U.S., and effectively I would be of the opinion that its mechanical nature effectively detracts from the sense of ashes being imposed upon our heads.

The rubrics for the distribution of ashes state that the priest, on concluding, washes his hands, logically implying that he has physically handled the ashes and not just used a stamp.

Historically, the use of ashes as a sign of penance is already found in the Old Testament, and even Jesus speaks of the necessity of some sinners to do penance in sackcloth and ashes (Matthew 11:21). Tertullian, saints Cyprian, Ambrose, Jerome, Augustine, and many other Church Fathers make frequent reference to this practice, especially in relationship with the practice of beginning a period of public penance for grave sins.

Apart from the relatively few public penitents, many other devout Christians confessed at the beginning of Lent so as to be able to receive daily Communion during this season and asked to be covered with ashes as a sign of humility after having received absolution. In the year 1091 Pope Urban II recommended this practice to both clergy and laity. Subsequently the rite of blessing and imposing the ashes became generalized and swiftly assumed considerable importance in the liturgical life of the faithful. At first, the rite was separate from Mass but eventually entered into the Mass itself around the 12th century.

Initially, men received ashes sprinkled upon the crown of the head, while the ashes were imposed upon women by making a sign of the cross on the forehead. This difference probably stems from the simple fact that women were obliged to keep their heads covered in church.

Today, the mode of imposing ashes varies from country to country according to custom. In most English-speaking countries water is added to the ashes to form a paste which is imposed by making a sign of the cross on the forehead. Many Catholics leave the mark of the ashes unwashed during the day as an outward testimony of their faith.

In much of Italy and in some other Romance-language countries, water is not added to the ashes. Rather, the ashes are imposed by making a sign of the cross above the crown of the head as the ashes fall upon the hair. This mode has the advantage of capturing better the idea of ashes as dust but does not leave a visible sign that can last during the day, except upon those who happen to be bald.

The use of the stamp mentioned by our reader would appear to be motivated by a desire to favor the duration of the sign during the day, even though this is merely an incidental, albeit positive, aspect of one particular mode of imposition. The danger is that this process could detract from what is essential to the ritual gesture, the act of receiving the imposition of ashes as a sign of personal penance and conversion.

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: Criteria for Preparing the Altar

ROME, MARCH 15, 2011 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Subsequent to our commentaries on the decoration of the altar (see March 1), a reader from Rochester, Minnesota, asked if it was possible to be more specific regarding some details. To wit: "1) How should one decorate the freestanding altar? How to decorate an ad orientem altar? 2) Where should flowers not be placed on an altar? I recently saw a photo of a celebration of the extraordinary form where flowers were displayed above the tabernacle! 3) On great days, if extra candles are desired, what is the best placement? 4) You mention the number of candles on various days. Do you know if the older ceremonial requiring this distribution is in force where there is regular choral celebration? 5) Do you know of good resources related to Catholic practice in church decoration? I know about the superb book that was put out years ago by the Flower and Altar Guilds of the National Cathedral on using flowers. I think that this could be used without difficulty in Catholic parishes with very large buildings, but I believe it is out of print."

It is not possible to go into detail with any great authority, given that the liturgical laws are themselves very succinct and leave much to the personal judgment of pastoral agents. In a way this is a good thing, since differences in church architecture, cultural tradition, and practical logistics mean that there might be more than one legitimate solution.

The closest that comes to official norms regarding flowers in the United States is found in the episcopal conference's document "Built of Living Stones." Regarding floral decoration these guidelines state:

"§124 Plans for seasonal decorations should include other areas besides the sanctuary. Decorations are intended to draw people to the true nature of the mystery being celebrated rather than being ends in themselves. Natural flowers, plants, wreaths and fabric hangings, and other seasonal objects can be arranged to enhance the primary liturgical points of focus. The altar should remain clear and free-standing, not walled in by massive floral displays or the Christmas crib, and pathways in the narthex, nave, and sanctuary should remain clear.

"§126 In the course of the liturgical year, the feasts and memorials of Our Lady and of saints with special significance for the parish afford opportunities to show devotion by adorning their images with tasteful floral arrangements or plants.

"§129 The use of living flowers and plants, rather than artificial greens, serves as a reminder of the gift of life God has given to the human community. Planning for plants and flowers should include not only the procurement and placement but also the continuing care needed to sustain living things."

While not overly specific they do give some good principles to help interpret what the General Instruction of the Roman Missal terms "moderate" floral decoration. Floral displays should not obstruct the liturgical action nor should processions have to weave their way around such displays. For a freestanding altar, flowers may be arranged in front of the altar in a way that emphasizes the feast but should not be an obstacle, for example, to walking around it while incensing. As a general rule flowers should not be placed on the altar table.

The above norms refer obviously to a freestanding altar. An old high altar still in use would follow in general terms the norms in force for the extraordinary form.

The general principle regarding flowers in this form is that they are unnecessary, but there is no law against them on feast days in accordance with local custom. They should be used with great restraint. The Ceremonial of Bishops for this form suggests small vases of little flowers on the greater feasts (I,xii,12). Natural flowers or those made of silk or other precious fabrics may be used. Forbidden is the use of flowers made of porcelain, glass, plastic or fabric other than silk.

Flowers may be placed between the candlesticks upon the altar as well as upon the lower steps leading up to the altar but never in front of the tabernacle door.

Regarding altar candles in this form, the relative norms are that they should be placed symmetrically on each side of the cross, upon the altar table or on the upper steps of the altar. Six candles are generally used on the high altar, two on side altars. The number can be increased for a special function such as the Forty Hours' Devotion. Candlesticks with multiple branches are forbidden.

The Ceremonial of Bishops (I,xii,11) says that the candlesticks or the candles should be of different sizes and placed in ascending order toward the center of the altar in such a way as to form a kind of pyramid with the cross. However, equal-sized candles are also admitted.

There are no precise rules regarding how to place candlesticks in the ordinary form, and the disposition can be varied according to circumstances, depending, for example, on the number of concelebrants or the number of sacred vessels required for a specific celebration.

Although I know of no specific title regarding church floral decorations, specialist publishers such as the Archdiocese of Chicago's Liturgy Training Publications have several books that touch upon the subject of decoration in general.

I hope this covers most of our reader's inquiries.