Abbey-Roads2

Secular press calls the Holy Father the biggest homophobe on the planet…

And yet uber-Catholics post photos like this inviting irreverent and sophomoric comments and captions.  How very, very sad.  Sad, sad, sad - to see unemployed people wasting their vocation and academic achievements on such nonsensical theatrics. 

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.

 

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?