Showing posts with label Theology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Theology. Show all posts

Saturday, January 12, 2013

The Top Ten Books Read in 2012, #1

The #1 book I read in 2012 was Fr. Robert Barron's Catholicism. I brought it with me during my priesthood retreat, and its pages were a joy to read. He prose is cogent and clear. He writes well to all levels of knowledge of Catholicism from the doctor in theology to the inquisitive atheist.

He takes from reason and beauty all that we believe as Catholics.

Like I said in my review, this book is the perfect book for catechesis for Catholics and non-Catholics alike. Our RCIA uses it and our Men's Spirituality Group will soon be using it as well.

There is no easier and more enjoyable book from which to learn about the Catholic faith.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

QOTD - Sin and the Church

The Church, in fact, cannot act differently toward men than did her Redeemer. - Pope Paul VI
When people see 'the Church' acting contrary to her Redeemer that is, in fact, not the Church acting but one of her members stained by a original sin. 

Friday, August 17, 2012

Concupiscence, True Communion, and 'Friends'

I decided to repost my first thoughts posted on blog format. This post originally was written on Monday, June 30, 2008.
It does not correspond to the personal union or 'communion' to which man and woman have been reciprocally called 'from the beginning,' in fact, it is contrary to it, that one of the two persons should exist only as a subject of satisfaction of sexual urge and that the other should become exclusively the object for such satisfaction. Further, it does not correspond to this unity of 'communion'--in fact, it is contrary to it--that both the man and the woman should mutually exist as objects for the satisfaction of sexual urge, and that each of them on his or her own part should be a subject of such satisfaction. Such a 'reduction' of the rich content of reciprocal and perennial attraction among human persons in their masculinity and femininity does not correspond to the 'nature' of the attraction in question. Such a 'reduction,' in fact, extinguishes the meaning proper to man and woman, a meaning that is person and 'of communion,' through which 'the man will... unite with his wife and the two will be one flesh' (Gen 2:4). 'Concupiscence' removes the intentional dimension of the reciprocal existence of man and woman from the personal perspective 'of communion,' which are proper to their perennial and reciprocal attraction, reducing this attraction and, so to speak, driving it toward utilitarian dimension, in whose sphere of influence one human being 'makes use' of another human being, 'using her' only to satisfy his own 'urges.'
Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body by Blessed John Paul II
Friends was one of the big sitcoms in the 90's (you can hear the claps from the theme clap-clap-clap-clap). It had a lot of influence on my generation. Yet, this quote from John Paul II puts forward the basic weakness of the series.

There is a total reduction of the relationship between man and woman to one of sexual satisfaction. The two friends who ended up marrying each other began their intimate relationship with sex. When they hid the 'relationship' from the other friends, they where hiding the fact that they were having sex. To my knowledge, which is limited and finite, and possibly wrong, they didn't go out on a 'date' until it was public knowledge that they were dating.

A relationship which ended in marriage was based and grounded upon a sexual relationship, i.e. sand. This is what my generation saw each week, and it is what John Paul II called the utilitarian dimension, wherein the person of the opposite sex is an object for sexual gratification. The ideal in this dimension is mutual sexual gratification, which, to many nowadays, means a basis for a solid marriage.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Gratitude=Happiness x Wonder


"I would maintain that thanks is the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."-GKC, 1917

There are truly refreshing moments in life when we are relieved of the pressure of standing alone with some thought by discovering that it has already been said or thought by another. When I read the above quote, I was so taken up by the joy of this phrase that I wanted to share it with all those present. I felt as if something special, almost sacramental, had occured. And indeed (as you will read), a communion had taken place. Unfortunately, the place I found myself reading this passage was a coffee shop, where such delicate and delicious thoughts lost in the shuffle. Starbucks does us no favors by printing all sorts of maxims on their cups: one becomes deceived that they are all of equal quality (isn't it ironic that, regardless of quality, they all end up in the garbage can).

Anyway, for months now I had found myself trying to say that above quote, but being impaired by not having yet read it. In fact, I had almost taken the extremely treacherous step of trying to write the idea out myself, but was happily prevented from doing so by discovering that I was a century too late. So, instead of a sloppy, second rate version of the above truth, I was taken up with the less tedious task of writing a commentary on it.

And the commentary will be short (though commentary is never as brief as the primary source): Our dependence on God creates as thrill in us that can reach the point of anxiety. Speaking personally, my experience of it often involves a signifigant amount of anxiety. Recently, a close friend of mine rightfully corrected this anxiety by comparing our reception of God's grace to the catching of a frisbee. She stated that, just like a frisbee, grace seems to waver delicately between heaven and earth. She insisted, however, that this should not be a source of fear. We should be confident that, if God tossed us the frisbee, He had ever intention of our catching it. And the intention of the Divine is above suspicion.

Now, she left off the metaphor here, but I will pick it up again by pointing out that I have often dropped a frisbee. She was very right to correct my fear, but the fear was justified. The great feeling of gratitude that comes from participating in Reality is that happiness comes at a risk. That is to say, love comes at a price. There can be no wonder unless the pass can be dropped. There must be some real chance that frisbee will slip through my fingers, otherwise my wonder at catching it will indeed slip through my fingers. But my friend was right: fear is not the right response. Wonder is the right response.

I do not plan here to tackle the topic of Divine Will and human freedom, only to comment that our freedom is indeed Divinely willed. God wants to give us grace (otherwise it could not be gratia, gift) and, in doing so, there must be the real risk that we might not acccept that gift (overwise, it would be said to be forced on us, and not given). What has to happen is a willing to unwill, an active choice to be passive and catch the pass. Some call this surrender. Some call this receptivity. Whatever it is called, it result in thanks, in gratitude, in eucharist. And Eurcharist is the source and summit of life.

When we come to God in this way (that is, in the Eucharist) what we find is that startling fact that He came to Himself in this way. He gave Himself on the cross. For our Salvation did indeed waver between heaven and earth, and when Christ passed on His Spirit, there had to be some real risk that the pass might be dropped. And now my commentary must end, for I have reached the limits of what mere words can express. There is a Divine Silence that surrounds this mystery of Calvary, where even the Word refused to speak. All I can say is that when we have some experience of this love, speaking louder in its silence than all the tongues of man, the very value of Reality seems to double up on itself. We exist most when be understand what it would be to cease to exist. Value pours in from every corner of consciousness. Our happiness is multiplied by wonder, even as drift dying in mid-heaven. The matter of catching the frisbee becomes secondary to the fact that there was a God so loving as to pass it to us in the first place. That we should even be there to catch it becomes the content of our gratitude.

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Fr. Barron's Catholicism - The Layman's Seminary

The book reads like one of Fr. Barrron's YouTube videos. It is clear, deep, insightful, and still down to earth. He makes reference to Max Scheler and John Lennon touching the student, the scholar, and the layman. His depth of language allows fro him to write clearly without extending a topic farther than is necessary for his goal. I would suggest this book to anyone because of its ease of prose and its clarity of doctrine.

As I began to move through the book, I realized that Fr. Barron has put into a 275 page book the totality of seminary academic formation. I felt like I was reliving my classes of the last nine years. What was experienced intellectually in the seminary is being offered in this short read. With each subsequent chapter, I found a review that was so clear that I was able to understand the given topic with greater clarity. Fr. Barron's ability to articulate gives the read the opportunity to learn how to articulate well what believe and to an audience that is riddled with doubt. It will be a great catechetical tool because takes what we believe and presents it in a way that is desirable.

It is also a book for the everyman because of the plethora of photographs, color and gray-scale, that litter the book like a tapestry of word and image that is women together for the glory of God. The book shows the reader the great physical and intellectual patrimony of the Church inviting a peep into heaven through these icons and words.
This book would be a great recommendation, also, for people coming off a retreat. This will give clarity and definition to the fire stirred in their heart after a retreat. It will set them firmly on the ground and give direction on where to walk.

Welcome, to the glory of Catholicism!

I wrote this review of Catholicism for the free Catholic book review program, created by Aquinas and More Catholic Goods, your source for Baptism Gifts and First Communion Gifts.
Tiber River is the first Catholic book review site, started in 2000 to help you make informed decisions about Catholic book purchases.
I receive free product samples as compensation for writing reviews for Tiber River.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Graceful Freedom



The topic of freedom and grace remains one of the most difficult discussions in Christian theology. When John Paul II writes about it, at the heart of the matter is the matter of the heart: what is the heart made for, how can it love, what model does it take? In the post Christian west, we are told that salvation is liberation, and liberation is at the service of the individual. But if freedom and grace are only ordered to the self, then it becomes clear that human dignity means nothing more than autonomy, and salvation is reduced to selfishness. If, however, human freedom exists to be at the service of others, then human beings 'become like God' when they empty themselves for the sake of everybody else. In light of this truth, JP II knew that it was counter-productive to present a God of triumph when, in fact, the mystery of the Christian God is that He Himself is a God of surrender. "In his intimate life, God 'is love,' the essential love shared by the three divine Persons: personal love is the Holy Spirit as the Spirit of the Father and the Son. Therefore he 'searches even the depths of God,' as uncreated Love-Gift. It can be said that in the Holy Spirit the intimate life of the Triune God becomes totally gift, an exchange of mutual love between the divine Persons and that through the Holy Spirit God exists in the mode of gift." (Dominum et Vivificatem, 10.)

In the Holy Spirit, God exists in the mode of gift. God exists in the mode of gift. God exists in the mode of gift! While all the power and progress of this world promises to move mankind toward some infinite pleasure or individual indulgences, Christianity, alone of all the world’s religions and philosophies, presents a man's end as the God Who IS Gift. Who IS selflessness. And when choosing to make this fundamental reality of His existence known to men, He became a man and died, thus fully inaugurating a new law of Gift (or, in Latin, gratia, grace). JP II phrases it this way: "Christ is the centre of the economy of salvation, the recapitulation of the Old and New Testaments, of the promises of the Law and of their fulfillment in the Gospel; he is the living and eternal link between the Old and the New Covenants…Jesus himself is the living "fulfillment" of the Law." (Veritatis Splendor, 16.) This new law of gift is the great revolution of our religion. Its not just about helping people or 'making the world a better place': it’s about making heaven a better place, or rather, making both heaven and earth a place where the King of Gift can actually be given something Himself. For grace (gift) is, after all, how Christians have access to the God who exists in the mode of Gift (grace).

Anyone familiar with Pauline theology or the evangelical applications thereof will know that this is no new theme in Christianity. In her most recent century, fundamentalists and street preachers commonly talked about it within the context of conversion. JP II's himself approaches the topic of grace from the same angle; "The Apostle Paul invites us to consider in the perspective of the history of salvation, which reaches its fulfillment in Christ, the relationship between the (Old) Law and grace (the New Law). He recognizes the pedagogic function of the Law, which, by enabling sinful man to take stock of his own powerlessness and by stripping him of the presumption of his self-sufficiency, leads him to ask for and to receive 'life in the Spirit.'" (Veritatis Splendor, 23) Once we 'take stock' of our own powerlessness, however, we are invited into a new freedom where we extend ourselves beyond the limits of our own person by giving of ourselves for the sake of the Other (‘the Other’=Christ and other humans). Therefore, JP II points out that "Perfection demands that maturity in self-giving to which human freedom is called....Human freedom and God's law are not in opposition; on the contrary, they appeal one to the other. The follower of Christ knows that his vocation is to freedom." (Veritatis Splendor, 17.) No longer are we slaves to the things of this world, to sex, to food, to cloths, to the news, to politics, to even culture itself. All of these things are created good, culture included, but JP II knows that it is important that "man does not become the prisoner of any of his cultures, but asserts his personal dignity by living in accordance with the profound truth of his being." And the truth of man's being is the truth of gift (grace).

Man's graceful freedom can only come through the gospel of Christianity. This gospel is itself Christ's gift: it is not an imposition or a burden. As JP II puts it; "On her part, the Church addresses people with full respect for their freedom. Her mission does not restrict freedom but rather promotes it. The Church proposes; she imposes nothing." (Redemptoris Missio, 39) To accept Christ's word in freedom is to become free to live for others and the Other, for a destiny far greater than the autonomous self could ever provide. "Hence, human activity cannot be judged as morally good merely because it is a means for attaining one or another of its goals, or simply because the subject's intention is good. Activity is morally good when it attests to and expresses the voluntary ordering of the person to his ultimate end and the conformity of a concrete action with the human good as it is acknowledged in its truth by reason." (Veritatis Splendor, 72.)

GKC was fond of saying that you cannot argue with a man unless you can sympathize with his perspective. It’s not simply a matter of understanding his view, but truly feeling the pain he feels. In our day and time, there are many who feel that ‘the Church’ (it matters little whether they mean Roman Catholicism or merely the body of Christians) stands as an institution in contrast with individual freedom. The fact of the matter is that Christianity does, in a very real way, stand in contrast with (if not opposition to) our contemporary conception of freedom. If by ‘freedom’ we mean ‘privacy,’ than Christianity accepts it as only a condition of worldly existence, and a rather negative one at that. In heaven, there will be no privacy for there will be no ability to hold back a part of yourself from anyone else. It would be foolishness to stand before the pearly gates and say to God and the angelic court, the Saints and the Martyrs: “I will share anything with you except this small part. I need it for myself and would feel insecure were I forced to give it away.” Heaven knows nothing of such privacy. The Church admits of the right to privacy as she admits to the right to property: as a temporal affair. That is to say, she concedes to it as temporary, something that will disappear with the coming of the Kingdom. And she prays earnestly, each day, that the Kingdom come sooner rather than later.

In his writing, John Paul II certainly sympathizes with this situation in which Christianity and the world’s opposing ideas of freedom war for men’s hearts. However, he never let this sympathy (which is an emotion) interfere with his love (which is an action). He was willing to admit that complex modern realities, tied into the perennial scandals of humanity-this-side-of-heaven, leave Christianity an easy target of ridicule and suspicion. The question is whether or not we can separate the teachings of Christ from the communion of love he personally established, a communion called the Church. As he says in Veritatis Splendor, "At times, in the discussions about new and complex moral problems, it can seem that Christian morality is in itself too demanding, difficult to understand and almost impossible to practice. This is untrue, since Christian morality consists, in the simplicity of the Gospel, in following Jesus Christ, in abandoning oneself to him, in letting oneself be transformed by his grace and renewed by his mercy, gifts which come to us in the living communion of his Church." (119) In this self-abandonment, the human person breaths again, living not just for herself, but gracefully for the Other.

How Not to Say Mass

Over the past semester, I have done a lot of reading for my classes, more than in previous semesters. I decided, it being my last semester I would be more diligent. Go out with a bang.

How Not to Say Mass by Fr. Denis Smolarski, SJ was a recommended reading book for our mass practicum class. I found the title intriguing and the length short so I dove in on a journey through the liturgical mind of Jesuit mathematician.

Fr. Smolarski wrote the book as a response to the abuses of the liturgy after Vatican II. Indeed, he had a very noble aim. His goal was simple: let's not get overly creative and stick to what's there, in the Missal and in the GIRM and (here's the kicker) in the minds of liturgists.

I don't usually post ecclesio-political opinions on here, but I began to be worried. He seemed to quote only a few sources, none of whom I had heard in my albeit meager study of theology. His aim was very helpful. Stick to the principles and you'll be okay. Indeed, that is great advice, unless you are sticking to weak or biased principles. Now, I must say on the whole his principles are sound. He directs the priest to follow what is in the Missal, the old WDTPRS saying, "Say the black and do the red." Not only that but that the black should be said in such a way as to convey well the meanings of the words and the actions should be done in such a way to be in accord with the solemnity of the celebration of the sacred liturgy.

He honestly rails on priests who have done things I wish to not even think about. He is not supporting or condoning celebrating the liturgy in the ever ethereal 'spirit of Vatican II.' He is a fan of Vatican II. He shares with the reader his great delight at the reforms of Vatican II. However, he veers away from reason into bias at this point.

He operates under a hermeneutic of rupture, as Pope Benedict calls it. He attaches himself so much to the missal of Paul VI that he denies the validity or power of any of the previous forms of the Roman liturgy. He treats them as passe and incongruous with the Twenty-first Century. This is both illogical and poor theology. Before I continue with reasons why, I will grant him a small concession: Summorum Pontificum, which made it abundantly clear than the extraordinary form can and should inform the ordinary form and vice versa, was written after the publish date of 2002.

It is illogical and untheological because to show rupture from the previous iterations of the Roman liturgical form is to put into question their validity. He, in no uncertain terms, calls the Ordinary Form the highest yet of the evolution of the Roman liturgy, which isn't even in accord with Vatican II.

It does have some good things to say, but it is in need of revision. Read at your own theological risk.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Epic Hope


I once wrote a reflection on the over-use of the word ‘epic.’ When I apply this term to the life and teaching of John Paul the Great, however, I do so in absolute confidence. There is really no other way to describe the hope of a smiling actor from impoverished Poland when he rose up against such towering forces of evil. Amidst the burning death of the holocaust, Karol Wojtyla wrote plays that burned with a brighter hope that outlasted the fires of Auschwitz. It was that same hope that brought color to his priesthood during the dreary years of Stalinist Poland. When he became Pope John Paul II, its luminosity acted as his spotlight on the world-stage. And though they've never been televised or presented from pulpit or balcony, these encyclicals of JP II bring the drama of this hope to the largest audience, to generations yet unborn. That the unborn found one of their greatest advocates in the great Pope, no one would doubt. The fact of the matter is that he acknowledged their plight and considered it part and parcel of the scourge of contemporary culture: what JP II called the 'culture of death.' To fight this death, he constantly exhorted us to ‘be not afraid!,” "For the mission of the Church is always oriented and directed with unfailing hope towards the future." (Salvorum Apostoli, 31)


His use of such dramatic language shows that he had none of the blind optimism of the students and idealists: he was too much the professor. He had none of the platforms or campaign promises of the politicians: he was too pious a priest. Finally, and most powerfully, his warnings contain none of the dire pessimism of (false) prophets and preachers: he was too secure in sanctity to give up on humanity. "There is no justification then for despair or pessimism or inertia...(individual responsibility) is what is demanded by the present moment and above all by the very dignity of the human person, the indestructible image of God the Creator, which is identical in each one of us." (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, 47) This hope stands like light against a shadow precisely because JP II realized just how dark is the shadow that remains over our world. "In general, taking into account the various factors, one cannot deny that the present situation of the world, from the point of view of development, offers a rather negative impression...There are many millions who are deprived of hope due to the fact that, in many parts of the world, their situation has noticeably worsened. Before these tragedies of total indigence and need, in which so many of our brothers and sisters are living, it is the Lord Jesus himself who comes to question us (cf. Mt 25:31-46).” (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, 13)

I said last time that JP II seems caught up in the drama of the relationship between God and man. It is in the midst of this drama that he finds our source for hope. Any realistic look at the "wages of sin" reveals, not simply fallen creatures, but a frustrated creation and a sorrowful Creator. "The Sacred Book speaks to us of a Father who feels compassion for man, as though sharing his pain. In a word, this inscrutable and indescribable fatherly "pain" will bring about above all the wonderful economy of redemptive love in Jesus Christ, so that through the mysterium pietatis love can reveal itself in the history of man as stronger than sin. So that the "gift" may prevail!" (Dominum et Vivificatem, 39) In other words, redemption is at the service of gift. Hope is at the service of love! 

His own life had taught JP II that is was not enough that Hitler be defeated, that abortion be repealed, that the poor be fed and that sins be repented of. The greatness of all of these epic and edifying goals can only be measured in relation to our conversion toward God. Often we may think of hope and love as autonomous actions (I converted to Christ, so now I can love my family), but JP II saw conversion and love as part of the same movement. "Conversion is the most concrete expression of the working of love and of the presence of mercy in the human world. The true and proper meaning of mercy does not consist only in looking, however penetratingly and compassionately, at moral, physical or material evil: mercy is manifested in its true and proper aspect when it restores to value, promotes and draws good from all the forms of evil existing in the world and in man." (Dives in Misericordia, 6) It is this "restoration of value" that JP II saw as the true goal of Christianity. Don't become confused by the ethical connotation of the word 'value': JP II is not talking about a 'return to family values' or a spread of 'Christian values.' He means that human beings should find life as valuable and fulfilling, love as strong and solid as silver or gold, and a God with an infinite value and meaning.

When life fails to attain to this value, contemporary man finds himself adrift in a world of selfishness and cut off from his fellow creatures (i.e. separated from other humans, the environment, the community, the angels and saints, etc.) Yet, even here, in the midst of all the distractions of our noisy, overpaid and oversexed culture, JP II saw the glimmerings of hope. "From the depth of anguish, fear and escapist phenomena like drugs, typical of the contemporary world, the idea is slowly emerging that the good to which we are all called and the happiness to which we aspire cannot be obtained without an effort and commitment on the part of all, nobody excluded, and the consequent renouncing of personal selfishness." (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, 26) Emerging from these depths of pain and loneliness, man is given the opportunity to probe even greater depths. "Faced with the mystery of sin, we have to search 'the depths of God' to their very depth. It is not enough to search the human conscience, the intimate mystery of man, but we have to penetrate the inner mystery of God, those 'depths of God' that are summarized thus: to the Father-in the Son- through the Holy Spirit." (Dominum et Vivificatem, 32) According to JP II, this is "the deep that calls to deep, in the roar of many waters" from Psalm 42. In the very depths of God is where the sufferings of humanity crosses over from shame to joy in the almost-instantaneous embrace of conversion. In JP II's thought, this conversion results in a "Mature humanity" that has “full use of the gift of freedom received from the Creator when he called to existence the man made 'in his image, after his likeness.' This gift finds its full realization in the unreserved giving of the whole of one's human person, in a spirit of the love of a spouse, to Christ." (Redemptor Hominis, 21) Thus, hope finds its fulfillment in more than just 'religious love' or 'spiritual love' but in a real human love, a ‘spousal love,’ which has been transformed into a Divine love. Further exploration of JP II's use of this spousal mystery is so broad a topic that I must leave it until my next reflection.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Friday Thoughts - the Ankler Makes a New Friend

Today is a turning point in the movement of the story of the Ankler. After over a month and a half with a external fixator keeping my bones in the correct place after a horrible dislocation, today, hopefully, is removal day.

I have been awaiting this day for over two weeks now. It has been a sort of Advent for me, in the middle of Lent while, still retaining the penitential atmosphere. The Lord suggest I give up walking. It's been easier than you think, but the ease is not the point here.

Because of the nature of the surgery, I will be going under general anesthesia which is always a risk especially with someone with a breathing malady. So I was a little worried about it. I am not near where I desire to be upon leaving this vale of tears.

What has given me consolation is a new friend, San Turibio de Mogrovejo. San Turibio was introduced to me by a blogger/Twitter friend Billy Newton from The Blog of the Courtier. Today is the liturgical commemoration of San Turibio. Billy suggested a call for his intercession for a successful surgery and a promise from me to make a pilgrimage to his shrine in Peru. See, San Turibio was a Spanish missionary to Peru named bishop of Lima. In 1600, he established the first seminary in the New World. As a seminarian, he seemed like a person to turn to, recommended my Church militant friend. Billy had no idea, okay maybe he did, that he was establishing a lasting relationship between a current sojourner and one who has arrived into the glories of the beatific vision, all in the glorious providence of the Almighty.

Yesterday morning, during my holy hour, I download edan image of him on my phone and using that image had a conversation with him, telling him my story and asking him for his intercession for a successful surgery. I promised him that I would make a pilgrimage to Peru in thanksgiving.

I let it pass planning on coming out well tomorrow afternoon no longer looking like I'm in the beginning stages of being subsumed into the Borg.

Last night, Archbishop Aymond hosted all his seminarians for a dinner. Towards the end of our time there, some of my confreres were speaking about the celebrants chair in his private chapel in the John XXIII house where he lives. He said that it is nearly 500 years old and belonged to a bishop saint in South America, and I said with a glimmer of hope but knowing there were a few of these, "St. Turibius of Mogrovejo?" The Archbishop pointed and responded with enthusiasm, "Yes, yes, that's it." I must say dear readers my heart leapt with a quiet but determined joy. San Turibio had assured me of his prayers and intercession. In fact, his presence was much closer than I originally realized.

My friends and readers do not underestimate our relationships with the Church triumphant. They yearn to intercede for us to aid in some small way in drawing all things to Christ.

San Turibio de Mogrovejo, ora pro nobis

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The Evangelization of Masculinity and Femininity through Music

I began writing this post on the evening of February 2nd before going to a basketball game. That basketball game had great effect on my life. See this post, this one, this one, and this one for details, if you haven't been following along. Anyway, I finally want to try and finish the post because the insight I feel is very important.

I had the opportunity last night (last month now, but for my own emotional posterity, I will let the misinformation stand, I apologize for being overly attached) to go to my first Matt Maher concert, yes, first. I have been present when he has led worship and led music for the liturgy, but as for a concert this was a first. It was a great blessing. It took on a different form from the usual concert feeling. The opening act, Audrey Assad, played in the middle of Matt's set. A bit different indeed but it brought out something for me that was really poignant that evening.

Through Audrey's music and Matt's music came forth the natural complementarity of sexes. Matt and Audrey are obviously very good friends who have a relationship that spans way past music and is rooted in the heart of Jesus Christ. They've played music together for many years, and that chemistry is immediately apparent to those participating in their live show. Matt was a certain influence in Audrey's conversion to the Catholic faith. The added depth of his spiritual fatherhood, in a sense, deepens their relationship on stage. Friend and father. Male and female. (It must be stated for the one who misunderstands my words. I am in no way saying are they intimate than in a manner of friendship. Be patient and I hope to show how their communication of the beautiful truths of the human person set them apart from most other professional musicians and songwriters. P.S. Their both happily married. Matt is already exhibiting the fruit of the oneness with his wife through their beautiful baby boy.)

Matt's music is very forthright. It's out there, driving. His latest album, even more so than previous albums manifests his masculinity. The melodies are deeper, the rhythms are heavier and stronger, the messages are kerygmatic. He is out there, moving forward, pushing forward. In a sense, they imitate that natural inclination of the male to give himself fully to suffer everything for the sake of self-gift.

Audrey's music on the other hand is very introspective. It speaks much about her relationship with her Redeemer. It is very receptive, light, melismatic. It's very feminine. She uses keyboard settings that are more etherial setting a mood of receptivity.

At certain songs they came together, and witnessed through music the beauty and wholeness of marriage. Masculinity and femininity were brought together to shine forth new creation.

The witness of such beautiful and awesome, indeed truthful, self-understanding from this man and this woman will have great effect on their audiences. This is how I can be a man. This is how I can be a woman, and feel and be whole. All is centered on Christ, the Savior, the True Man, who takes away that which prevents wholeness, completeness, joy.

Matt and Audrey, if you read this. Thank you for your witness of what is to be a man and what it is to be a woman.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

"When all is done, Judgment comes..."

Day of wrath! O day of mourning!
See fulfilled the prophets' warning,
Heaven and earth in ashes burning!

I have a new favorite song: the Dies Irae. Day of wrath, day of mourning. Sounds really heavy, right? And Lent is still over two weeks away. Why not wait ‘til then to talk this up. Better to set that dreary mood after Mardi Gras. That was my initial thought. However, after jamming out to DC*B's version of this ancient hymn for a month, it has made me realize something that's bursting in my chest right now. This song about the dawn of Judgment Day illuminates a part of Christian theology that was once over emphasized and is now largely ignored, a part of our good news that for centuries was seen as nothing more than bad news. Our modern mentality looks upon the last Judgment with a skepticism that disguises a groping fear. Some of the hardcore movies of our time (Terminator, Armageddon, etc) are about preventing judgment day, about erasing it, rather than about finding the courage to face it down. But Judgment Day, in the Christian tradition, ends on a happy note.

Death is struck, and nature quaking,
all creation is awaking,
to its Judge an answer making.

David Crowder purposely wrote his version of the song in C (the happiest of all keys!). That doesn't mean that the song is all sunshine and sparkles and rainbows. It does mean, however, that the very last note we hear resolve the whole hymn is a ‘C.’ If you have a piano or guitar on hand, go ahead and strike a C for me…Very good! It’s quite a happy sound, isn’t it? In the context of a sequence of songs full of dissonant power chords, fiery prophets, peals of thunder and the death of the Son of God, this simple C rings out with profound beauty. The point that Crowder is trying to make after 18 minutes of reflecting on death and judgment is that there is something strikingly beautiful to look forward to. At the end of it all.

Think, good Jesus, my salvation
cost thy wondrous Incarnation;
leave me not to reprobation!

So there was the Holocaust. And there were the Gulags. Now there is apartheid and abortion, greed and global warming. So there will be political infighting, economic unrest, famines and fires, widows and wars, and yet it will not yet be the end (See Matt. 24:6). We know not the day nor the hour, though in our darkest hours we may hope it comes sooner rather than later. Though I do not consider myself a melancholy person, I cannot have an entirely optimistic outlook on the way the world is going. I've certainly never had the chance to be idealistic. My teenage years began with 9/11 and culminated in hurricane Katrina. Whether or not things are really getting any worse, I have no scientific reason to believe that anything short of the Reign of God could make them any better. Yes, scientific: because, as far my study of the sciences (physical, social, liberal) goes, it seems obvious that God would have to come down in order to truly reverse the effects of entropy. The crimes of racism and murder cry out from the ground not just to congress or the UN. They cry to the heavens asking for atonement. My faith brings me real comfort in the knowledge that, when the time comes to judge humanity for the killings of the poor and the Jews, it will be a poor Jewish carpenter sitting on the throne.

Faint and weary, thou hast sought me,
on the cross of suffering bought me.
shall such grace be vainly brought me?

Yet, this is not the only comfort I derive. He is, after all, a truly merciful judge, like us in all ways except sin. In all ways except sin. In all ways that are good, true and beautiful. In all ways except those ways that have led to our own destruction. To this Judge, who is truly God and also truly bone of our bones and flesh of our flesh (recall: He is our spouse as well), we cry out, "Huic ego parce, Deus!”

When all is done, Judgment comes. Spare, O God: have mercy.

As a closing note, I would like to point out how refreshing it is to hear the phrase "Have mercy" resound in praise and worship songs. Normally, the Protestant theology of the authors of this genre steers them away from publically proclaiming this petition. Because of the reasons listed above, I feel that it is oh so necessary to sing it now and always. With all the weariness of this world, my heart cries out for mercy, but it cries out in the key of C!

Pie Jesu Domine,

Dona nobis requiem. Amen.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Friday Thoughts - Christian Unity Requires Holiness

We have brothers and sister who are separate not by their creed, but by their theology, by their practice. Due to the brokenness of the Reformers they find themselves inheritors of the brokenness.

There are many different ideas and motives for achieving unity between us and our other Christian brethren. Some of them have great theoligical grounding based on the great insights to ecumenism provided by the documents of Vatican II and some are led by an irenisism that seeks to compromise.

For Christian unity to be achieved there requires one thing above all things, unity with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. If those who are working toward Christian are not holy in the purest sense of that word unity will only be eon the surface. True unity only occurs in and through Jesus Christ and holiness is confonformity with Christ.

When we pray, then, for Christian unity, part of that prayer must be for us and those who are working for it, grow in holiness.

Monday, January 16, 2012

O Great God Give Us Rest!

In order to understand what follows, it would be best to watch the video at the link below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=50DStEt4uwk

Ecumenism. In case you haven't been on iTunes in the last week, you might be surprised to hear that the David Crowder* Band has released their final album, a Requiem Mass (co-authored by our boy Matt Maher). That album jumped to the top of the charts (not the Christian charts, THE charts) the day it came out. It has remained in the top 5 ever since. David Crowder is a southern baptist, a representative of Baylor University and a well versed theologian, outside of being an evagelical worship leader. Two decades ago (not to mention two centuries ago), a man from the Calvinist tradition who wrote a Mass "centered on the beauty of the Eucharist" would be kicked out of his denomination, much as the Eucharist itself was physically kicked to the curb by the first protesting iconoclasts. Now, just as it is most decidedly NOT my intention to speculate on whether or not Mr. Crowder is moving toward Rome, I also have no intention of opening up old wounds. The atorocities of the 30 year's war, the scandal of Henry VIII and the happenings of the Huguenots belong to another age, when the West was all Christian and the differences between Catholics and Protestants resulted in some of the gravest sins in history. As both protestants and Pope have admited, there was guilt on both sides. However, when I read the history of that hideous period, what disturbs me the most is the sacrelige commited by fellow Christians against the Body of Christ. We burned each other, members of that Body, at the stake and poured the Sacred Host and Precious Wine out upon the pavement. The horror of our actions should silence any finger pointing, especially now that we are centuries out from the scandal.

Now, look where we are. Maybe it is the openess of our society. Maybe the providence of time has helped heal all wounds. Maybe it is the fact that we Christians have been forced to cooperate in a strange new era, no longer having the luxury to carry out our family fued across Christendom. What was Christendom, what was our family home, has become a secularist, consumeristic, materialistic, hedonistic parody of all we hold dear. Now, more than ever, Christians must turn to truth where ever it is found. David Crowder, definitely son of these times, has discovered that Truth can be found in the Eucharist. And he has not refrained from giving glory where glory is due. At the behest of Bl John Paul II, many Catholics have found ways to praise the Lord through song styles that our fathers would call too worldly or worthless. And we have not refrained from using them to give God the glory. Now, five centuries out from our great split, Catholics and Protestants are once more praising the Sacred Host together.

This fact does not represent the end of anything, except perhaps the end of the beginning, (to borrow a phrase from Churchill). Can we dare to look forward to a future where we will no longer debate about the Blessed Sacrament, but can commit ourselves to adoring it together? I certainly hope so. But I am ambitious and hope for more than that. I hope that we have come to a point where sacred silence before that Saving Victim can truly begin to heal our divisions. Singing is a great place to begin ecumenism, but the sacraments are the only place that it can end. I am barely a theologian. I am nothing close to a minister. However, I am a child of the Church, and I must say that, though I cannot pretend to know where all this is going, I am content to kneel at the altar with Mr. Crowder. Or Mr. Tony Blair. Or whatever other leaders decided to come around to the Eucharist. Our sad division began at the foot of the altar: let us hope that it's ending may begin there as well.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Happy Priests!

A few weeks back, my bishop sent me and my brother priests in the diocese a copy of Msgr. Stephen Rossetti's book entitled Why Priests are Happy. Having benefited from reading two of his previous works, I was happy to have this newly-released book that looks at the state of my brothers in ministry. 

I found the book to be enjoyable, despite the fact that it was really a summary of a two large-scale studies of priestly life and ministry, which arrived at conclusions via charts and numerical analysis. I found it particularly interesting to see his findings on the connections between priestly happiness, time in prayer, various spiritual practices, understandings of obedience and celibacy, as well as other elements with regards to different generations of priests. 

All of these various factors come together to paint a beautiful picture of priesthood, one that show that we priests are ... actually happy! The correlations (not causations, as he clearly notes) between happiness and various beliefs and spiritual practices was also good food for reflection in my own vocation, as it would be for anyone. In the end, he simply notes that as a whole, priests are generally happy, and that the reason is... well, I'll leave that for you to find out.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

GKC and the Largeness of the Faith

Yet another GKC read! 

This could be considered his commentary on John 6: 68; "To whom, Lord, shall we go." Specifically, he is defending to freedom of the faithful, that when they come to Christ, He enlarges their freedom rather than dismantling it. 

Nothing is more amusing to the convert, when his conversion has been complete for some time, than to hear the speculations about when or whether he will repent of the conversion; when he will be sick of it, how long he will stand it, at what stage of his external exasperation he will start up and say he can bear it no more. For all this is founded on that optical illusion about the outside and the inside which I have tried to sketch in this chapter. The outsiders, stand by and see, or think they see, the convert entering with bowed head a sort of small temple which they are convinced is fitted up inside like a prison, if not a torture-chamber. But all they really know about it is that he has passed through a door. They do not know that he has not gone into the inner darkness, but out into the broad daylight.  It is he who is, in the beautiful and beatific sense of the word, an outsider. He does not want to go into a larger room, because he does not know of any larger room to go into.  He knows of a large number of much smaller rooms, each of which is labelled as being very large; but he is quite sure he would be cramped in any of them. Each of them professes to be a complete cosmos or scheme of all things; but then so does the cosmos of the Clapham Sect or the Clapton Agapemone.  Each of them is supposed to be domed with the sky or painted inside with all the stars. But each of these cosmic systems or machines seems to him much smaller and even much simpler than the broad and balanced universe in which he lives.  One of them is labelled Agnostic; but he knows by experience that it has not really even the freedom of ignorance. It is a wheel that must always go round without a single jolt of miraculous interruption--a circle that must not be squared by any higher mathematics of mysticism; a machine that must be scoured as clean of all spirits as if it were the avowed machine of materialism. In living in a world with two orders, the supernatural and the natural, the convert feels he is living in a larger world and does not feel any temptation to crawl back into a smaller one. One of them is labelled Theosophical or Buddhistic; but he knows by experience that it is only the same sort of wearisome wheel used for spiritual things instead of material things.  Living in a world where he is free to do anything, even to go to the devil, he does not see why he should tie himself to the wheel of a mere destiny. One of them is labelled Humanitarian; but he knows that such humanitarians have really far less experience of humanity. He knows that they are thinking almost entirely of men as they are at this moment in modern cities, and have nothing like the huge human interest of what began by being preached to legionaries in Palestine and is still being preached to peasants in China.  So clear is this perception that I have sometimes put it to myself, as something between a melancholy meditation and a joke.  "Where should I go now, if I did leave the Catholic Church?"  I certainly would not go to any of those little social sects which only express one idea at a time, because that idea happens to be fashionable at the moment. The best I could hope for would be to wander away into the woods and become, not a Pantheist (for that is also a limitation and a bore) but rather a pagan, in the mood to cry out that some particular mountain peak or flowering fruit tree was sacred and a thing to be worshipped.  That at least would be beginning all over again; but it would bring me back to the same problem in the end. If it was reasonable to have a sacred tree it was not unreasonable to have a sacred crucifix; and if the god was to be found on one peak he may as reasonably be found under one spire. To find a new religion is sooner or later to have found one; and why should I have been discontented with the one I had found? Especially, as I said in the first words of this essay, when it is the one old religion which seems capable of remaining new.  I know very well that if I went upon that journey I should either despair or return; and that none of the trees would ever be a substitute for the real sacred tree. Paganism is better than pantheism, for paganism is free to imagine divinities, while pantheism is forced to pretend, in a priggish way, that all things are equally divine. But I should not imagine any divinity that was sufficiently divine. I seem to know that weary return through the woodlands; for I think in some symbolic fashion I have walked that road before. For as I have tried to confess here without excessive egotism, I think I am the sort of man who came to Christ from Pan and Dionysus and not from Luther or Laud; that the conversion I understand is that of the pagan and not the Puritan; and upon that antique conversion is founded the whole world that we know. It is a transformation far more vast and tremendous than anything that has been meant for many years past, at least in England and America, by a sectarian controversy or a doctrinal division.  On the height of that ancient empire and that international experience, humanity had a vision. It has not had another; but only quarrels about that one. Paganism was the largest thing in the world and Christianity was larger; and everything else has been comparatively small. 

Friday, November 11, 2011

Friday Thoughts - Liturgy, the Nucleus of the Parish

Yes, I like adjectival clauses in my titles. Anyway, down to business. This is a short reflection on the 'ideal parish.'


The nucleus of the parish should and need be the liturgy.  The Second Vatican Council calls it the "source and summit" of our faith.  It is from which we gain strength as Christians, and it directs us towards our final goal, heaven.  For most of the parish, this will be the main communal interaction of the parishioners, every Sunday.  It, then, becomes not only the source and summit but also the main tool of the New Evangelization to a people inundated with the secular, devoid of God, devoid of morality, devoid of a sense of truth, goodness, oneness, and beauty.  The liturgy provides an experience of these four transcendentals.  Hence, it should not mitigate them for "pastoral" reasons but rather let them shine forth.  The liturgy shines forth the truth of salvation history in the Liturgy of the Word, showing to all who listen that God has worked to interact with and meet man and show that he was not only created in love, but is keep in being by Love.  The homily because a central aspect in revealing this truth.  The liturgy of the Eucharist allows the drama of the salvific sacrifice of Christ to show the truth that we are offered salvation and it is through this very sacrifice that we enter into it.  Truth is so relativized in our society that stability of the same ritual every Sunday allows the truth the Church carries with Her to manifest itself.  God is unchanging and the universality of the liturgy allows man to see this in the acts of His Church. Entering into Calvary and receiving the fruit of the tree of life, allows us to see what is good and what is evil.  Our consciences are formed by the unchanging truth manifested in the liturgy, which increases our desire to pursue what is truly good, the Almighty.  Nothing brings a community together better than taking part in communion with the One God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, through the reception of the body, blood, soul, and divinity, of Jesus Christ.  Communally being directed toward the worship of God in music, interior prayer, and sacrifice manifests the Body of Christ, which unites all of the members of the Church. The flow of the liturgy, its setting, its music, its vestments give witness to symmetry, which witnesses to what is beautiful.  Beauty, I am convicted, is a great evangelizer.  It arrests the heart and allows the mind to temporarily separate itself from the lies it has attached itself to and experience something truly heavenly.   The architecture of the church should have direct the people in their worship.  Over the two millennia of the Church the cruciform, cathedral design seems to best direct the mind and the heart.  Filled with stained glass, art that is both realistic in portrayal but pious in its direction, and an altar fitting for the sacrifice that occurs on its pillars.  The sound system to should be unobtrusive and well mixed using the proper techniques in acoustics to not prevent dead spots or unnatural decay in the sound.

Monday, August 22, 2011

The Eucharist in the Apostolic Fathers Part Four: The Didache



This is the final installment of this little followed series.  Today we look at the Didache (Ignatius press' catechetical series might come to mind, it follows in the footsteps of the early Church catechetical document).  The Didache is an interesting document that was rediscovered on one and half centuries ago.  Previously there were only excerpts in the writings of the Church Fathers.  It is was highly reverenced and considered as great source of early Christian life   There are three Eucharistic chapters, nine, ten, and fourteen.  

Chapter 9 can be seen as the offertory rite of the early church.  If one were to compare chapter nine with the offertory rite in the Ordo Missae there are definite similarities. The Ordo Missae says “Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation, for through your goodness we have received the wine we offer you: fruit of the vine and work of human hands it will become our spiritual drink.  Blessed be God forever.”[ii]  The Didache says, “First concerning the Cup, ‘We give thanks to thee, our Father, for the Holy Vine of David thy child, which thou didst make know to us through Jesus thy child; to thee be glory forever.’”[iii]  There occurs a thanksgiving for the gift of the wine given from the Father to be returned to him in offering.  Then there is the acclamation, blessed be God forever and to thee be glory forever.  There continues here the typological aspect of the Eucharist, which began in the gospel of John and in the Pauline letters.  The Eucharist fulfills the wine that sits next to the showbread outside of the Holy Holies.  Chapter nine continues with the Johannine typology of the manna. “As this broken bread was scattered upon the mountains, but was brought together and became one, so let thy Church be gathered together from the end of the earth into they kingdom, for thine is the glory and the power through Jesus Christ forever.”[iv]  The final aspect of chapter nine and probably its defining Eucharistic aspect is the excluding of unbaptized from the meal. “But let none eat or drink of your Eucharist except those who have been baptized in the Lord’s name.”[v]  The only reason to exclude unbaptized from a meal would be a sacramental meal wherein only those who were called into the flock can partake.  This hints at a sacramental structure based on the primacy of baptism in the sacraments of initiation. 

Chapter ten is said to a prototype preface.  The same elements occur, thanksgiving for the gifts received and praise by way of the Sanctus, “Hosannah to the God of David.  If any man be holy, let him come!”[vi] and “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts. Heaven and earth are full of your glory.  Hosanna in the highest.  Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.”[vii]  These are remarkably similar.  Rordorf says that the Sanctus originates from the Jewish meal blessing.  Also, within chapter ten there is the manifestation of the eschatological nature of the Eucharistic sacrifice in the words Maran atha.  “The expression of the expectation of the parousia which St. Paul has preserved for us, confirms what he himself has allowed us to see of the eschatological orientation of the first Christian Eucharists, where they ‘proclaimed’ the death of the Lord, ‘until he comes.’”[ix]  Finally, chapter 10 demands the presider, or prophet as he is called, to chose the place and time for the celebration.  The presider is said to be the bishop, who proclaims the word of God and officiates at the celebration. 

 Chapter fourteen deals with the Sabbath.  It proscribes that the Eucharist should be celebrated “on the Lord’s Day.”[x]  One should come clean from sin.  This is the first discussion of fruitful reception of the Eucharist.  “After confessing your transgression that your offering may be pure; but let none who has a quarrel with his fellow join in your meeting until they be reconciled, that your sacrifice be not defiled.”[xi]  If one has the stain of sin his offering of himself at the Eucharistic sacrifice will not be pure.  Furthermore, if you are distracted be a quarrel this quarrel will prevent you from receiving the sacrament, which is an offering of self to Christ, as best as possible.  Herein also lie the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist.  If one stained by sin or not properly recollected, one cannot sacrifice a proper spiritual sacrifice in union with the unbloody sacrifice on the altar. “For this is that which was spoken by the Lord, ‘In every place and time offer me a pure sacrifice, for I am a great king,’ saith the Lord, ‘and my name is wonderful among the heathen.’”[xii] 

            So, then, what did the Holy Spirit preserve for the modern Church by way of extant writings of the sub-Apostolic age in view of the Eucharist?  Found in some shape or form in all four sources is the notion of the Eucharist as a sacrifice.  Being so close to Jewish Christians and experiencing or hearing about daily pagan sacrifices, the Eucharist is the sacrifice to end all sacrifices.  There are certain offices that officiate at the liturgy of the Eucharist, the primary one being the bishop.  The Eucharist is a source of communion with one other, the universal church, Christ Jesus, and through Him God the Father.  The Eucharist is Jesus' flesh.  They affirmed the Real of Presence of Jesus in the sacrament.  In fact, Christology is intertwined from then on with Eucharistic theology by way of defense against the Donatists.  The Eucharist engendered Christian living and imitation of Christ.  It was through the Eucharist that the sub-Apostolic Church encountered Christ.  Their faith and charity became Eucharistic in nature even unto death.  The Eucharistic liturgy was still closely connected, though very different to, the Jewish meal blessing.  The Eucharist is the fulfillment of the types of both the sacrifices and bread occurrences of the Old Testament.  Finally, even so early in the Church, there was the notion of proper disposition when encountering the altar of the Lord.  For a more fruitful reception one must confess their sins and forgive their brother.  The Apostolic Fathers and their contemporaries were Eucharistic.  They had known some of the Apostles but had not known Christ.  They were the second generation.  They encountered Him through the Blessed Sacrament.  Vatican II affirmed their faith and practice in calling the Eucharist the “source and summit” of our faith.  They embodied this.




[i] Willy Rordorf, “The Didache,” in The Eucharist of the Early Christians, trans. Matthew J. O’Connell (NY: Pueblo Publishing Company, 1978), 10-11; Andre Garakas, The Origin and Development of the Holy Eucharist: East and West (NY: St. Paul’s, 2006), 69;  O’Connor, 6; and Bouyer, 117-118.   
[ii] PDF of New Translation into English, 2008 from
[iii] Didache in The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1 of the Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1998), 323
[iv] Ibid.
[v] Ibid.
[vi] Ibid.
[vii] PDF of New Translation into English, 2008 from
[viii] Rordorf, 14. 
[ix] Bouyer, 118-119. 
[x] Didache, 331.
[xi] Ibid.
[xii] Ibid.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Eucharist in the Apostolic Fathers Part Three: St. Polycarp of Smyrna

St. Polycarp, an apostle of St. John the Evangelist, was the bishop of Smyrna and a contemporary of St. Ignatius.  He wrote a letter to the Philippians not soon after the martyrdom of Ignatius. Polycarp warned the Philippians against the heresies of the day, namely Docetism.  He does not mention anything Eucharistic is this short letter; its focus is rather narrow in scope.  There is also an account of his martyrdom, which is the first recorded account of martyrdom outside Scripture.  He gives a speech before he is burned at the stake wherein the beauty and eloquence of an old bishop is surely displayed.  In that speech there is not direct reference to Scripture, but Louis Bouyer mentions an interesting point about his martyrdom.  “The account of his martyrdom shows us this bishop handing himself over to the fire exactly as if he were going to celebrate the Eucharist for the last time.  And in this supreme celebration where he identifies himself with the victim, which is Christ, we can think that the prayer derives from the Eucharist, which he was accustomed to offer.”[i]  Polycarp is augmenting a primitive Eucharistic prayer for the offering of himself instead of the unbloody sacrifice on the altar.  “Thou has granted me this day and hour, in the cup of the Christ, for the Resurrection to everlasting life … may I, today, be received among them before Thee, as a rich and acceptable sacrifice as Thou … hast prepared beforehand, and shown forth, and fulfilled … I glorify Thee through the everlasting and heavenly high priest, Jesus Christ, thy beloved Child.”[ii]  We see again the Eucharistic Christianity that was so captivating about Ignatius of Antioch.  Polycarp, who did not know Jesus in the flesh, knew Him best through the Blessed Sacrament.  It felt most natural to pray his final prayer in Eucharistic fashion.




[i] Louis Bouyer, Eucharist: Theology and Spirituality of the Eucharistic Prayer, translated by Charles Quinn (Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 1968), 114-115.
[ii] Martyrdom of Polycarp, in The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 2 of the Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1998), 331-332.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

The Eucharistic the Apostolic Fathers Part Two: St. Ignatius of Antioch

Two weeks ago we discussed the beginnings of a Eucharistic theology in the writing of St. Clement of Rome. This week we delve into a deeper and more plentiful corpus from which to draw a beautiful theology of the Eucharist.  

A few years after Clement's letter to the Corinthians, St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote seven letters, six to Christian communities and one to St. Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, on his way to martyrdom in Rome.  There are five major Eucharistic themes in these letters: sacrifice, the offices of the Eucharist, sacrament of unity, Eucharistic Christology, and Eucharistic Christianity.  The notion of sacrifice was the major theme running through all of the Apostolic Fathers.  The Eucharistic sacrifice takes on a special tone in Ignatius. “Be careful therefore to use one Eucharist for there is one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ, and one cup of union with his blood, one altar, as there is one bishop with the presbytery and the deacons my fellow servants, in order that whatever you do you may do it according unto God.”[i]  The altar is the place of sacrifice.  It is where the bishop with the presbytery offers the body and blood.  The Greek word used, ousiasterien, can also be translated as sanctuary, the place of sacrifice.  “It seems that the conception of the Eucharist as the sacrifice of the Church suggested this designation.”[ii] 

In this quote from his letter to the Philadelphians Ignatius also points towards certain offices that officiate at the Eucharistic sacrifice.  There he mentions bishops, presbyters, and deacons.  The bishop though is the presider at the Eucharist. “Let that be considered a valid Eucharist which is celebrated by the bishop, or by one whom he appoints.”[iii]  The bishop is seen as the representative of Christ, who unifies the church.  The presbyters assist the bishop in his role.  They are seen as a different office something that was not distinguished in Clement of Rome.  The deacon serves at the sacrifice.  John Zizioulias says that the orders “have survived in history as constitutive for the Eucharist.”[iv]  Ignatius places them within the Eucharistic sacrifice by the will of God.  It is at the Eucharistic sacrifice that the office gain their sustenance and are united more closely to Him whom that represent, in persona Christi.

Furthermore, through the bishop presiding as representative of Christ the Church becomes one body. “Hasten all to come together as to one temple of God, as to one altar, to one Jesus Christ, who came forth from the one Father, and is with one, and departed to one.”[v]  The Eucharist united the local church under its celebrant, the bishop.  They come together at one temple.  The Eucharist brings themto not only the local church but the entire Church extended through time and space at the one altar of sacrifice. “Zizioulas interprets Ignatius’ words to the Smyrnaeans as teaching that, in which Eucharistic event, the historical, earthly gathering around the bishop is ‘exactly the same as … the whole Church united in Christ.’”[vi]  It not only unites the whole Church but it unites the Church with the Father. “The Eucharistic assembly generates unity unity with the bishop, unity with the entire Church, and unity with Christ who is inseparably one with the Father.”[vii]  Ignatius’ shining reason for the unifying nature of the Eucharist has to do with his treatment of the Docetists.  They, not recognizing the humanity of Christ, saw the Eucharist as an abomination and did not partake of it. “Let no man be deceived: unless a man be within the sanctuary he lacks the bread of God, for if the prayer of one or two has such might, how much more has that of the bishop and of the whole church?  So then he who does not join in the common assembly, is already haughty, and has separated himself.”[viii]  By not partaking of the bread of God, a Johannine name for the Eucharist, which unites the Church as one, the Docetists separate themselves from the Church and from Christ.  This is the strongest and most vivid description of the unifying nature of the Eucharist in early Christian literature.  It indeed gives full life to the term, communion.

The Docetists had a faulty Christology that led to a faulty Eucharistic theology.  This shows the intimate relationship between the two.  “In Ignatius’ thinking, belief in the reality of Christ’s life-giving flesh has immediate consequences for Eucharistic theology.”[ix]  The Docetists failed to see that the Eucharist was the flesh of Christ. “I desire the ‘bread of God,’ which is the flesh of Jesus Christ, who was ‘of the seed of David,’ and for drink I desire his blood, which is incorruptible love.”[x]  The Son of God became flesh, sarx.  He suffered and died only to be risen on the third day.  The Eucharist, then, is the bread of God, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ.  This is the closest any of the Apostolic Fathers comes to transubstantiation language.  To confirm this, Ignatius says of the Docetists, “They abstain from Eucharist and prayer, because they do not confess the Eucharist is the flesh of our Savior Jesus Christ who suffered for our sins, which the Father raised up by his goodness.”[xi]  The flesh of Christ, natural and Eucharistic, are both the object of the same faith of Christians.  “At every point there is the same flesh, the one sarx, of Christ.  The reality of Christ’s human flesh in his incarnation and the reality of his Eucharistic flesh are the objects of the one and the same faith.”[xii]  They are, in a sense, inseparable, one from the other, for those who never met Christ in the flesh.  Being post-Apostolic, Ignatius never met Christ in the flesh.  His experience of the flesh of Christ was in the body and blood of the Eucharistic sacrifice. 

These notions of sacrifice, presiding at the sacrifice, sacrament of communion, and flesh of Christ were taken on by Ignatius himself.  He saw his impending martyrdom as a sacrifice to the Father in union with the sacrifice of Christ.  He was offering himself, being both priest and victim, though in an analogous way, with Christ.
Suffer me to be eaten by the beasts, through whom I can attain to God.  I am God’s wheat, and I am ground by the teeth of wild beasts that I may be found pure bread of Christ.  Rather entice the wild beasts that they may become my tomb … then shall I be truly a disciple of Jesus Christ … Beseech Christ on my behalf, that I may be found a sacrifice through these instruments.[xiii] 
Ignatius had imbibed a Eucharistic Christianity.  He even compared himself to the Eucharistic species.  He wished to sacrifice himself to the Father in the way that he has experienced Christ sacrifice himself. 
The entire thinking of Ignatius in this mater is a dynamic prolongation of the Eucharist.  Like the Eucharist, and on the basis of it, martyrdom derives its value from the passion of Christ and leads to resurrection.  Through identification with Christ and through the complete gift of self that martyrdom entails, Ignatius will fulfill in himself the radical meaning of the Eucharistic sacrifice; as far as possible, he will make real in himself the Eucharistic mystery that is celebrated in the sacrifice of the altar.[xiv]

Ignatius by his very life and death lived, for the Christian faithful, the Eucharistic mystery.  He, in this time of Docetist heresy, lived a life in the flesh and for the flesh and with the flesh of Christ in the Most Holy Eucharist.  One can only imagine the great reverence he had in presiding over a Eucharistic celebration, especially in the time awaiting his execution by beast.  He embodied the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist.  By his martyrdom, he brought together the Christian community, in praise and thanksgiving to Lord, that such an imitator of Himself witnessed to them by his life and death.  By dying for the sake of the Lord, he died professing the fleshy existence of Jesus wishing to enter into glory with Him.



[i] Ignatius of Antioch, “Letter to the Philadelphians,” in The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1 of the Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1998), 243.
[ii] Johannes Quasten, Patrology, Volume 1 The Beginnings of Patristic Literature (Westminster Maryland: Newman Press, 1962), 66.
[iii] Ignatius of Antioch, “Letter to the Smyrnaeans,” in The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1 of the Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1998), 261.
[iv] John Zizioulias, “The Ecclesiological Presupposition of the Holy Eucharist,” Nicolas 10 (1982), 343-344,  quoted in Paul McPartlan, The Eucharist Makes the Church: Henri de Lubac and John Zizioulas in Dialogue (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993), 195.
[v] Ignatius of Antioch, “Letter to the Magnesians,” in The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1 of the Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1998), 203.
[vi] McPartlan, 169.
[vii] Raymond Johanny, “Ignatius of Antioch,” in The Eucharist of the Early Christians, trans. Matthew J. O’Connell (NY: Pueblo Publishing Company, 1978), 60. 
[viii] Ignatius of Antioch, “Letter to the Ephesians,” in The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1 of the Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1998), 179.
[ix] Johanny, 57.
[x] Ignatius of Antioch, “Letter to the Romans,” in The Apostolic Fathers, vol. 1 of the Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1998), 235.
[xii] Johanny, 53.
[xiii] “Letter to the Romans,” 231.
[xiv] Johanny, 65.