Abbey-Roads2

Thoughts on death for All Hallows Eve.

I think our culture is scared of death, hence the refusal to say when someone has died that they died.  We say things like passed away, passed on, or just “so and so passed“.  Passed what?  As everyone knows, we deny that abortion or euthanasia is killing as well - for instance, to be pro-abortion is referred to as pro-choice - very clean and easy.  Innocent victims of war are referred to as colateral damage.  Reading obituaries, people who died from terminal cancer are said to have “passed away after a courageous battle against cancer.“  Often, when we attend a Catholic funeral, one hears this, “They are in a better place” or “they are still with us” or “they are home with God” and so on.

We deny death, fear death, resist death, yet our culture is entertained by it, which may be one reason why we have so many horror films.  Halloween is often a time to mock death - which also seems to be another expression of denial.

Remembering our end.

The saints are often shown contemplating death as seen in the above painting of St. Jerome by Carravagio;  memento mori- remember death, is a traditional Christian maxim.  It’s purpose is much like that of the blessing we receive on Ash Wednesday during the imposition of ashes, “Remember thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return”.  The remembrance of death helps the Christian to order his life through repentance, conversion, mortification and detachment.  It reminds us that we are exiles on earth, and that we must prepare for eternal life.  It is a good thing.

Catholic veneration of the saints and their relics, is a pious custom dating back to the first martyrs and before.  Remember the Israelites carried with them the bones of Joseph in the Exodus.  In Churches throughout the world, there are wonderful reliquaries containing body parts of the saints; skulls, arms, fingers and so on.  This can strike the non-believer as macabre, while some Catholics think the practice is grotesque and medieval.  (I don’t - I have dozens of first class relics.)  Yet most traditional Catholics have no problem whatsoever with the bodies or body parts of the saints venerated as relics.  The bodies of the saints, once tabernacles of the Holy Spirit, are holy - not scary.

Capuchin catacombs.

This year I used skulls to decorate the front of my house for All Hallows Eve, in the tradition of the Mexican Day of the Dead, as a reminder of death, in the same spirit as the saints shown contemplating a skull.  (These props have nothing to do with devils and witches as some fundamentalists might suggest they do.)  Catholics ought to remember that in some monasteries, skulls were placed in the refectory to remind the religious of death; as such, the skull served as an exhortation to temperance.

The European Capuchins had an intriguing custom of keeping the bones of the dead in an ossuary, or underground cemetery in the crypts of their churches.  (I believe the custom dates back to ancient times, and especially amongst early monastics, such as the monks of St. Catherines’s in Sinai.)  Anyone who has been to Rome surely must have visited the Capuchin cemetery on the Via Veneto, decorated entirely with the bones and skulls of deceased monks, many dressed in their habits. Some of the photos shown in this post are from the Capuchin ossuaries of Rome and Polermo.  To the contemporary person, or most unbelievers, these displays seem gruesome and distasteful - which seems to me another example of our repugnance and fear of death.

The incorruptables.

In some of the European Capuchin catacombs, a few of the bodies appear to be incorrupt - although they are said to be mummified.  Interestingly enough, these bodies resemble some of the saints bodies that are said to be incorrupt.  The bodies of St. Clare of Assisi and St. Catherine of Bologna come to mind.  The skin of these saints is dark and leathery, adhering to the skull and bones, similar to the photo shown above from the Palermo catacombs.  Nevertheless, their state of incorruption is viewed as miraculous and a sign of their purity and holiness.  In the case of the unidentified man shown above, the preservation would be considered natural.

When the Church canonizes saints, the matter of incorruptibility is not taken into consideration, in fact the recently discovered incorrupt body of Blessed John XXIII has been largely regarded as a natural phenomenon by the Vatican.  However, for the “little ones” amongst the faithful, the state of incorruption is a sign of the person’s holiness.

Having said that, most bodies of the saints corrupt, as all other bodies do.  Which reminds me of Dostoevsky’s novel, “The Brothers Karamazov”.  When Fr. Zosima died, his body began to decay almost immediately, and some of the other monks believed it to be a sign that Zosima was not a good monk.  Yet Fr. Zosima was a very holy monk.  Just so, St. Therese of Lisieux predicted her body would decay, so has to give hope to all the little ones.  It seems to me incorruption is not the irrefutable sign of holiness we believe it to be.

The meaning of All Hallows.

The day of the Dead and All Hallows reminds us that death comes to us all, reminding us it is how we have lived that determines our fate.  It is also a time to remember those who have gone before us in death, some immediately to glory, all of the saints; and some awaiting the beatific vision in purgatory, all souls.  Understood in that context, Haloween is not the bad holiday fundamentalists make it out to be.

For a good history of Halloween, go to Pro Ecclesia and read Jay’s post.  I found Jay’s post while reading Fr. Longenecker, who also has a good bit of advice concerning the holiday. 

Yeah - just my thoughts on All Hallows.  Don’t forget to have fun.

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What I know for sure. 

The Stevie Wonder song “Living For the City” came to mind this morning while I was showering, after reading through my emails and comments on the blog.  I love that song - but it was really only the one lyric that popped into my head - “just enough for the city”.  I thought of it in reference to what I know - which is just enough for the city…  At the risk of sounding pretentious, I suppose that city would be the City of God.

“I know more than all who teach me, for I do your will.”  Psalm 118

My background is fine art, my education has been focused in that direction.  As a child, my sole interest was God, the saints, prayer and the Eucharist, and most especially, Our Lady.  I thought I wanted to be a priest or a monk,  and the idea of preparing for a vocation kept me on the straight and narrow for much of my childhood.  My interest in the saints led me to become something of a history buff, but only as it concerned the Catholic Church.  My devotion to Our Lady of Fatima is perhaps what really awakened any political, socio-economic interest in me - primarily because Our Lady brought up the errors of Russia in her apparitions.  Thus I had to learn about communism, capitalism, monarchism, and so on.  Therefore, as a kid I knew a lot about a little.

Now that I am older, I realize I know only a little about a lot.  Since my conversion in 1972 education became unimportant to me.  I had fallen so deeply in love with God, that everything else seemed insignificant.  It was my conviction that in our age of affluence, the chief riches the world valued and competed for were the number of degrees a person earned, or the size of his financial portfolio.  I lost interest in that - I wanted to be poor like Christ, without any greater status than being an ordinary Christian.  (Which is why I took the name Christian in the monastery and the Third Order of St. Francis.)    However, I have never ceased to study, but I still know only a little about a lot.

“I will run in the way of your commands, you give freedom to my heart.” - Psalm 118

Since my conversion my main source of knowledge has been the gospel, well all of scripture, which has pretty much guided my life and supported my prayer.  Naturally the Church has guided this ‘education’; the writings of the saints, the fathers, and the popes have enlightened my learning.  But I’m no theologian, philosopher, political analyst, economist, or anything else.

I’m just an ordinary guy who prays.  I also paint and try to write - occupations which serve me well in an effort to document what I understand.  Otherwise, I’ve pretty much simply observed people and events, pondering their meaning.  Being intelligent, I’ve acquired certain analytical skills, intuitive abilities, along with interpretive skills, resulting in what I believe is rather sound judgement.  Nevertheless, I have no degrees in the sciences - although I know a little about a lot of them.

“I gain understanding from your precepts and so I hate false ways.” - Psalm 118

For instance, I wrote about Dorothy Day being a saint.  I know a little about her politics and socio-economic theories.  I also know a lot about her life, her heroic virtue, her Catholic devotion, her fidelty to the Magisterium, and her awful, Christ-like love of the poor.  Her life was an affront to the modern American status quo, and it remains so for many.  Most saints I have a special devotion to have been like that.  Like many great saints, Dorothy Day reveals the awful truth of what it means to follow Christ, denying oneself to death, following the narrow way of the cross, a contradiction to all the material and intellectual wealth the world esteems and values.

What I am saying is that I don’t care about complicated theological debates, or arguments over liturgical discipline.  I grow weary of politics and politicians, economics and economists.  What I care about is invisible.  It is the little way of the poor that captivates me more and more, with what seems to be ever rapid acceleration as I get older.  And what has been most impressed upon me late in my life is the primacy of love, which entails forgiveness, acceptance, and even more love.   

They say ‘a little knowledge is a dangerous thing’ - yet for me, I think it may be  just enough for the City.

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Just what we need, more Catholic blogs!

Cardinal Ruini said that religious should start to blog in an effort to correct misinformation about Jesus on the web:

“The 76-year-old prelate admitted, “I don’t understand the Internet, but especially young religious ought to enter blogs and correct the opinions of the youth, showing them the true Jesus.”” - Zenit 

Actually, that isn’t a bad idea - if well educated and devout religious start to blog, Catholics may not be wasting so much of their time surfing the blogosphere and ending up with so many crazy ideas…

However, does the Cardinal realize what a distraction from the spiritual life blogging can be?  How it can remove a religious from community life?  Or what an idol the Internet can become? 

Look how it has ruined my life! 

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“The greatest challenge of the day is: how to bring about a revolution of the heart, a revolution which has to start with each one of us?”

I often get the impression that the cause for the canonization of the Servant of God, Dorothy Day does not exactly include a great many conservative/traditional Catholics among her devotees.  When I managed a Catholic bookstore, we carried no books written by her or about her.  Just as we carried very little of Thomas Merton’s work.  Perhaps they were too  liberal for the company. 

The big turn off seems to have been her former communist views, which a few critics suspect to be more or less incorporated into the Catholic Worker Movement.  (I doubt that is true.)  Dorothy Day was one tough lady by the time she became a Catholic, a no nonsense intellectual, modern woman - I suppose one could say ‘liberated’.  However, she was very much a traditional Catholic, a woman who traveled to Rome in order to fast and pray for the success of Vatican II, deeply devoted to the Mass, and a bit pious in her devotion to the saints.  I believe she is a saint, not unlike St. Catherine of Genoa was to her day - both were tough and often a thorn in the side of conservatives.

Her pacifism is another thing which gets in the way of many conservative Catholics’ appreciation of Dorothy.  I can’t say I’m in agreement with the type of pacifism Dorothy Day espoused, yet I deeply respect her radical committment to peace and justice nonetheless.  It seems to me Catholics such as she stand out as  a prophetic witness for Chrstians to examine themselves on issues of war and peace; wars of aggression versus wars of defense, and so on.  Policraticus  has an informative post on Day and her pacifism which merits looking at:

“An important component of Dorothy Day’s exemplary faith was pacifism. But her pacifism was not the result of sentimentality or liberalism. It was the product of vivacious faith, strong intellectual formation and experience in hospitality to the poor and forsaken.”  - Vox Nova

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Of a Catholic Cardinal - or what I told the Pope.

Reading in the Biffi…

Cardinal Giacomo Biffi’s new book seems to be a must read for anyone concerned about the inner workings of the Magisterium, or at least the observations and opinions of one more or less traditional cardinal.  Sandro Magister  has a good overview of the book, with lengthy excerpts, which are somewhat provocative.  I think traditional Catholics will see they have had a friend in Cardinal Biffi, especially since some of his criticisms clearly echo their own.   (Remember, I’m not a Vatican watcher, nor a cleric groupie, so I know little to nothing about Biffi - which is also why I find his book interesting.)

Who’s sorry now?

Not every Catholic unhappy with JPII’s apology to the world for the sins of Catholics throughout the centuries were traditionalists or sedes - normal, middle of the road Catholics had a few problems with the concept as well.  Cardinal Biffi did too.  Here is what he had to write about it:

At table, the Holy Father said to me at one point: “Did you see that we have changed that statement in ‘Tertio millennio adveniente’?” The draft, which had been sent to the cardinals before publication, contained this expression: “The Church acknowledges as her own the sins of her children”; an expression that - as I had stated with respectful frankness - could not be set forward. In the definitive text, the idea had been changed as follows: “The Church always acknowledges as her own her sinful children.” At that moment, the pope took care to remind me of this, knowing that it must have pleased me.

 I replied by expressing my gratitude and manifesting my complete satisfaction with the theological formulation. But I also felt prompted to add a reservation of a pastoral nature: the unheard-of initiative of asking pardon for the errors and inconsistencies of past centuries wouldto,  in my view, scandalize the “little ones,” those most favored by Jesus (cf. Matthew 11:25): because the faithful, who do not know how to make many theological distinctions, would see these self-accusations as a threat against their serene adhesion to the ecclesial mystery, which (as all the professions of faith tell us) is essentially a mystery of sanctity.

And these were the very words of the pope’s reply: “Yes, that is true. That will require some thought.” Unfortunately, he did not reflect on it sufficiently. - www.Chiesa

That evil Council and “aggiornamento”.

I think many trads believe the Council has been the source of pretty much all of our troubles in the Church, often accusing key players of deception and dirty tricks.  Cardinal Biffi  just may agree:

“Pope Roncalli had assigned to the Council, as its task and objective, the “internal renewal of the Church,” an expression more pertinent than the word “aggiornamento” (”updating,” also one of John XXIII’s words), which, however, met with undeserved success.  

This was certainly not the intention of the supreme pontiff, but “aggiornamento” included the idea that the “holy nation” should seek to conform itself more closely, not to the eternal plan of the Father and his desire for salvation (as it had always believed it should do in its attempts at genuine “reform”), but to the “giornata” (”day”; to temporal, worldly history); and it thus gave the impression of indulging in “chronolatry,” to use the expression of disdain coined later by Maritain.

This was certainly not the intention of the supreme pontiff, but “aggiornamento” included the idea that the “holy nation” should seek to conform itself more closely, not to the eternal plan of the Father and his desire for salvation (as it had always believed it should do in its attempts at genuine “reform”), but to the “giornata” (”day”; to temporal, worldly history); and it thus gave the impression of indulging in “chronolatry,” to use the expression of disdain coined later by Maritain.

Was there not pastoral relevance in the clear statement that Jesus of Nazareth was God and consubstantial with the Father, as had been defined at Nicea? Was there not pastoral relevance in clarifying the realism of the Eucharistic presence and the sacrificial nature of the Mass, as happened at Trent? Was there not pastoral relevance in presenting the primacy of Peter in all its value and all its implications, as Vatican Council I had taught? - www.Chiesa 

“He’s no Pope, he should be selling bananas.”

Supposedly those are Cardinal Spellman’s words about Pope John XXIII upon returning to NYC after the conclave which elected Roncalli.  Cardinal Biffi is not as critical, indeed, he respected John XXIII, stating he was a good Pope, but a bad teacher.  Which is kind of a contradiction in terms, since I thought the Pope’s role is to teach.  Again, here’s the Biffi:

There were just a few statements of his that I found puzzling. And these were precisely the ones that won over hearts and minds more than any others, because they seemed consistent with people’s instinctive aspirations.

There was, for example, his judgment of reproof on the “prophets of doom.”

The expression became, and remained, extremely popular, and naturally so: the people do not like party poopers; they prefer those who promise good times over those who advance fears and reservations. And I, too, admired the courage and drive, during the last years of his life, of this “young” successor of Peter.

But I recall that a sense of perplexity seized me almost immediately. In the history of Revelation, the true prophets were the ones who usually announced chastisements and calamities, as in Isaiah (chapter 24), Jeremiah (chapter 4), and Ezekiel (chapters 4-11). - www.Chiesa

The sounds of silence… on Communism.

Cardinal Biffi delicately phrases his words on the seemingly glaring oversight of the Second Vatican Council to condemn communism, which may lend support to factions of conspiracy theorists regarding the infiltration of the Council by communist sympathizers.  The Cardinal does not go so far as to say this, but he does note the omissions of any mention of communism in the Council documents.  More from the cardinal:

“Communism: the Council does not address this. If one attentively scans the comprehensive index [of the Council documents], it is stunning to confront this categorical silence. 

Communism (for the first time in the history of human folly) had practically imposed atheism upon the populations subjected to it, as a sort of official philosophy and a paradoxical “religion of the state”; and the Council, although it addresses the case of atheists, does not speak of it. 

During the same years when the ecumenical council sessions were being held, the communist prisons were still places of unspeakable sufferings and humiliations inflicted upon numerous “witnesses of the faith” (bishops, priests, devoted lay believers in Christ); and the Council does not speak of it. - www.Chiesa 

I can’t wait to read the entire book. 

Go to www.Chiesa to read the excerpt from the book on what the Cardinal told the Pope after Ratzinger had been elected to the Chair of Peter. 

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A different calendar.

Those who follow the traditional liturgical calendar of the Church, that is, those who attend the Traditional Latin Mass, celebrated the feast of Christ the King today.  In the revised liturgical calendar the feast is celebrated on the last Sunday of Ordinary Time, or the Sunday before Advent.

For me, this raises many questions.  For one, where is the unity in observance?  Other questions arise - such as, does this mean traditional ember days, along with fast and abstinence disciplines, are to be observed?  And is it mandatory that they be observed?  And by whom?  There seems to be much more to the traditional form of Mass, which follows the traditional  calendar, than meets the eye.  As it stands, the traditional calendar makes no provision for the the newly proclaimed saints, and retains the memorials of the older saints on their traditional feast days.  And some traditionalists resent the fact newer saints have supplanted the traditional memorials in the new calendar.

I’m not well versed in liturgical matters, but it seems to me the Traditional rite is a separate rite from the Novus Ordo and not simply the extraordinary form of the ordinary form.  Will this result in a reform of the reform, or will it create a “High Church” and a ”Low Church” situation as in Anglicanism?

It seems to me many die-hard traditionalists - those in union with the Holy See - reject many of the reforms of Vatican II as it is.  For instance, many traditionalists wouldn’t think of having their children baptized in the new rite of Baptism, choosing instead the traditional rite, because of the exorcism prayers.  Although the Rosary isn’t part of the liturgy, not a few traditionalists reject John Paul II’s addition of the Luminous mysteries to the Rosary.  And don’t even ask them what they think of the cause for the beatification of JPII. 

The blogs are not really reflecting any great effort at unity on the matter of the TLM either.  Not a few critique and dissect every statement from any bishop who speaks about the implementation of the Summorum Pontificum.  Any priest, religious or lay person who happens to indicate he/she is not a big of the TLM is summarily castigated, often without charity.  When a writer does attempt to be objective, the comment box usually fills up with vitriolic attacks.

I find it unsettling.

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But body gone he sleeps no more,
And till his intellect grows sure
That all’s arranged in one clear view,
pursues the thoughts that I pursue,
Then stands in judgment on his soul,
And, all work done, dismisses all
Out of intellect and sight
And sinks at last into the night.  - Yeats 

I don’t know how to describe it.

Twice in the last month I experienced the strangest sensation.  It wasn’t supernatural or anything, I’m sure.  I don’t think it is depression either.  I don’t know how to categorize the experience however.  It has happened before in my life, a fleeting moment - maybe longer - wherein it seemed to me I knew what it feels like to die.

When I was younger, I experienced intense anxiety about it, until I “calmed” myself with an act of contrition.   Some would call these episodes “panic attacks” - but I’m not sure that is correct, since I would regain my peace with prayer and a conscious surrender of my soul into God’s hands, certain I was accepting whatever he willed at that moment.

Nevertheless, my recent experiences, though just as fleeting as the others, have been different.  There was no anxiety, no nothing.  I was totally conscious of what was happening and distinctly aware of everything outside of myself.  As I looked out a window, I could hear passers by on the street, children playing in the distance, and yet I felt completely removed from it all.  I felt as if I was suspended in time and place, and that I was totally alone.

I realized that no one, and no thing outside of me had any effect upon my soul, my being.  That the sounds I heard, were from persons who had no awareness of my existence.  Understanding this, I recognized that people from my past were not aware of my existence either, and that my past was only present to myself, but for all others, it could only be a faint recollection or memory, as of someone who had once lived. 

(For some strange reason, I had a vague sense of the dead and imagined they were aware of me, although I felt they couldn’t know my experience of myself.  They were aware of me, but they could not “know” me.  I thought, only God knows me, yet I didn’t understand how.) 

I imagine the experience was similar to Scrooge with the ghost of Christmas present, when Scrooge was invisibly present at his nephew’s Christmas celebration, yet impotent to make his presence felt.  Unlike Scrooge, I experienced no emotion - I felt absolutely nothing.  Or maybe the episodes could be best described as being in limbo, albeit without joy.  Like I said, I can’t describe it.  I say I felt nothing, yet that is not completely true.  I felt no joy - therefore it seemed as if I experienced the absence of emotion.  Nevertheless, it was as if I sensed an oncoming awareness of profound aloneness.  I say aloneness, as opposed to loneliness.  I think loneliness implies a desire for anothers company, or to be acknowledged by those outside oneself - yet that wasn’t a part of my experience.  I did not feel lonesome, but I felt alone.

The only thing I can make of the experience is that each of us are completely alone before God.  That we are accountable to him alone.  That he alone knows us.  It seemed to me, that everything outside of myself counted for nothing compared to this reality.  That my knowledge, my experiences, my accomplishments were somehow unimportant to this solitude.  It seemed that nothing created could fill my aloneness but would only serve to increase my sense of exile and alienation.

As I said, I felt no joy, neither did I feel sadness, which is why I say I felt no emotion.  I don’t know what to make of it, but it seems to me it was a sort of heightened realization of my existence, as well as an obscure knowledge of the existence and the immensity of God.  It seemed to me my experience is similar to what one understands at approaching death.

I’m sure the whole experience can be attributed to some chemical imbalance in my brain - I find it intriguing nonetheless.  Although death promises to be a very dramatic experience, don’t you think? 

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Martyrdom is a realistic possibility for every Christian.

During the Holy Father’s Angelus address for the beatification of 498 martyrs of the Spanish Civil War, Pope Benedict suggested that martyrdom is indeed possible for every Christian in today’s world.  Such a change of tone from what I heard growing up as a kid when the school sisters and parish priests always told us:  “None of us will ever have to face martyrdom…”  When I was little, even though we lived with the fear of nuclear war, no one ever thought we would see the day of outright persecution of Christians - at least in the “free world”.  How times have changed.

“The Pope addressed the issue before a crowd of some 50,000 who had gathered in Saint Peter for the recitation of the Angelus, including a large number of Spaniards with unfurled flags who had previously taken part in the beatification ceremony presided in Saint Peter’s Square by Card José Saraiva Martins, prefect of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints.

“The contemporaneous inclusion of such a large number of martyrs to the list of the Blessed,” said the Pope, “shows that the supreme witness of blood is not an exception reserved only to a few individuals, but is a realistic possibility for the entire Christian people. We are in fact talking about men and women who vary in terms of age, vocation and social background but who paid with their life their faithfulness to Christ and the Church. The words by Saint Paul that echo in this Sunday’s liturgy are fitting: “For I am already being poured out like a libation,” aid Timothy, “and the time of my departure is at hand. I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith (2 Tim, 4: 6-7).” - Asia News

[Photo: Bl. Eduardo of the Child Jesus, OCD.  One of two Discalced Carmelites of the 498 martyrs beatified today.] 

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“It is mercy I desire…” 

I prefer the saints who were great sinners, they seemed to be especially compassionate towards other sinners.  Here is a quote from St. Augustine concerning his request for clemency for a condemned criminal:

In no way, then do we approve of the sins that we want to be corrected, nor do we want the wrongdoing to go unpunished because we find it pleasing. Rather, having compassion for the person and detesting the sin or crime, the more we are displeased by the sin the less we want the sinful person to perish without having been corrected. For it is easy and natural to hate evil persons because they are evil, but it is rare and holy to love those same persons because they are human beings. - Vox Nova 

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