Monday, November 7, 2011
10 Virgins and the Importance of Latin
We are now, this weekend, almost at the end of the group of
ordinary Sundays which began back in July.
In two weeks, the Feast of Christ the King marks the close of the Church
year, and on the following Sunday—three weeks from now—we begin again with
Advent. This morning the tone of the
liturgical readings becomes increasingly urgent in warning us to be ready and
to prepare ourselves…whoever for (wisdom’s) sake keeps vigil shall quickly be
free from care…because she makes her own rounds, seeking those worthy of
her….For the Lord Himself…will come down from heaven…and the dead in Christ
will rise first….
And in this Sunday's Gospel, we hear the parable of the ten
virgins, five foolish and five wise. The five wise ones have flasks of oil with
their lamps. The foolish do not. Now, why couldn't the five who had thought of
it simply share some of their oil with the others? Why did they have to make it
so complicated? It could all have been so simple. Instead it goes all wrong.
While the young girls are off buying more oil, the bridegroom arrives. The door
is being locked, and when they are back, they can't come in. It is one thing to wait for the bridegroom,
Who is Christ. But it is not enough to
wait for the bridegroom with the others if the waiting is not accompanied by an
inner faith, represented in the parable by the oil that makes the light of the
lamp shine forth. God is not asking us
only to…hang around…waiting for the bridegroom—waiting for Christ to
appear. He asks for our personal
engagement as a response to His engagement with us. The Church is the institution who has as her
prime mission to announce the Gospel of the Lord, leading all people to faith
by the sacraments and the liturgy, and through the lives of every Catholic who
witnesses to the mercy of God. It is
through the Church that the presence of Christ is realized here on earth—and
here is the whole point: the point of Christ’s coming, His death and
resurrection, His giving us the Church—we are to make ourselves ready for
judgment: judgment at the moment we die; judgment at the time of His second
coming on the last day.
For many years—in some ways for more than 30 years—the
Church in the English-speaking world has been preparing for what will take
place three weeks from today—November 27th—the First Sunday of Advent. On that day the new English version of the
Latin Roman Missal will begin to be used in our nation and in most of the
English-speaking world (a few places, like Australia, have begin its use
already). What is particularly
distinctive about this missal is that it is, as much as possible, an exact
translation of the Missale Romanum—the Latin Roman Missal. This is as it should be, because Latin is the
Church’s language. Whenever I hear a
remark such as I recently heard…if I wanted to hear Latin, I would go to the
Latin Mass…I have to lament that, after nearly 50 years, the intention of the
Second Vatican Council and the popes since the council is still not understood
by so many Catholics, clergy and laity alike.
The Second Vatican Council never condemned nor forbade the use of Latin
in the liturgy. Unfortunately, after
1965 there was a dramatic change in most places that gave this impression: the
Church went from using almost all Latin at Mass, to almost totally excluding
it. Yet quite the contrary to being
forbidden, following upon Blessed John Paul II’s final encyclical Ecclesia de
Eucharistia, the instruction from the Holy See Redemptionis Sacramentum, taught
that…Priests are always and everywhere permitted to celebrate Mass in Latin…. The Second Vatican Council, while permitting
translations into the vernacular, taught that…care must be taken to ensure that
the faithful may also be able to say or sing together in Latin those parts of
the Ordinary of the Mass which pertain to them…. Not only does the Council
plainly insist on keeping some Latin in the Mass, it goes on emphatically to approve
the use of Gregorian chant; the council taught in these words…The Church
recognizes Gregorian chant as being especially suited to the Roman
liturgy. Therefore…it should be given
pride of place in liturgical services….Latin is the language of Gregorian
chant.
What the Council had probably envisioned was gradual changes and a mix of English and Latin. Obviously it is beneficial that the readings, homily and many of the prayers should be in English for ease in understanding. But this in no way meant the Church should forget the Gloria, Creed, Sanctus, Agnus Dei and Pater Noster—all of which the Council says we should still be able to say and sing. In 1974 Pope Paul VI sent to all the world’s bishops a booklet titled Missa Jubilate Deo—a booklet of simple Latin Gregorian chants; the Holy Father asked that all Catholics become familiar with them and use them in the celebration of the Mass. These are the Latin chants you find today in every issue of our missalette.
But what makes Latin so important, why should it be used? First, Latin is still the official language of the Church, used whenever the pope issues an encyclical or other official document. Much more so, we have a treasury of sacred music which goes back to the earliest centuries of the Church—what would we say about an institution which simply forgot the bulk of its historical character or patrimony? What is regrettable about the use of only English at Mass, especially music sung only in English, is that we are in danger of losing part of the Church's rich heritage of thousands of years of Latin chant, dating back to the time of Pope Gregory the Great, from whom it derives its name: Gregorian chant. Some of the most theologically accurate and hauntingly beautiful hymns are the great Latin classics. Perhaps we should ask it this way: how many of our English glory and praise songs and folk melodies will still be sung in 1500 years?
When St. Boniface brought Catholicism to Germany in the 8th Century, he celebrated Mass singing…Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus Dominus…not…Heilig, Heilig, Heilig Gott…. When St. Francis of Assisi and St. Catherine of Siena assisted at Mass in Medieval Italy, they responded not in Italian, but in Latin…Et cum spiritu tuo…. Ss. Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross both wrote beautiful Spanish poetry in the 16th century, but at each Mass they sang the Pater Noster, not the Padre Nuestro. Sts. Therese of Lisieux and John Vianney lived in 19th century France, but at each Mass they sang the Agnus Dei, not Agneau de Dieu. No matter from where our ancestors came to this country, they sang Kyrie eleison, not Lord have mercy…that’s what the Episcopals sang, and Catholics knew they were Catholic, not Episcopals. Latin gives us a connection with 2000 years of history, with millions of Catholics from dozens of generations. Saints from the 4th, 12th and 20th centuries have sung these very chants, hundreds of thousands of priests have said these same words of consecration, billions of Catholics have sung these same Latin chants.
Being one with the mind of the Church, our use of Latin Gregorian chant can be a reminder of the sacredness of what takes place at Mass. The Mass is essentially a mystery—it takes us out of the things of earth and inserts us into the dimension of heaven. We can never fully comprehend what takes place in the Eucharist. We are not supposed to understand fully the mystery of God, because we cannot. We never will. We only can accept and give thanks for that partial understanding of the divine mystery revealed to us. At Mass, we are singing and praying neither to ourselves nor to each other, but to God, Who is essentially Mystery. The Church’s universal use of Latin keeps that truth always before us.
One may ask…Why do not most parishes make more, or any, use of Latin in the Mass, especially by using the Latin chants, if that is the mind of the Church? One would have to ask those priests why they do not, since I have tried to explain why parishes should do so. The use of Latin is more common in other countries, especially in many parts of Europe, South America, and Africa. But I can best respond, knowing what the Church has taught about the matter from the Second Vatican Council right up until Pope Benedict XVI a few weeks ago (he is quoted on the subject in this Sunday’s bulletin) by asking a question my mother often asked me when I would complain that I couldn’t do what other kids were allowed to do…Just because everybody else is doing it doesn’t make it right….
We are preparing for the use of the new English translation of the Roman Missal beginning in just three weeks. This translation is an exacting translation of the Latin Roman Missal. We will have to get used to saying…and with your spirit…rather than…and also with you…when we hear the priest sing or say…The Lord be with you…and with your spirit…and with your spirit…practice will make perfect. Clearly the Mass prepares us for the coming of the end—our own end as well as the world’s end. We will hear this prayed for clearly in the new translation of the Third Eucharistic Prayer……as we look forward to His second coming, we offer You in thanksgiving this holy and living sacrifice….May we use the gift of the Mass always to prepare ourselves for what is surely to come.
Fr. Robert Behnke
The Thirty-Second Sunday per annum, November 6, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
"That’s How I Treat All My Friends"
The episode in this morning’s Gospel – the meeting of Our Lord with the Canaanite woman – puts me in mind of another conversation Our Lord had with another woman - with St. Teresa of Jesus – Teresa of Avila. There are several versions of this famed conversation, including one involving Teresa’s having fallen into a puddle of mud. But the one I like the best focuses on St. Teresa’s life in her religious community. Teresa was a Carmelite; she was also a mystic; she was sometime in such metaphysical, transcendental, communion and conversation with Our Lord that others at times observed her to be levitating, especially during the offering of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Now one might think that those fellow sisters, seeing this miraculous occurrence, would have been edified, and perhaps even perceived and even used it as an actual grace sent by God for themselves. And perhaps some did, but others of her sisters evidently did not, instead accusing Teresa of all kinds of mischief; some even saying she was in league with the devil. Much of this accusation took the form of backbiting and gossip; does this at all sound familiar?—gossip was not an invention of the 20th or the 21st centuries. Finally Teresa had had enough, and so, in one of her mystical conversations with Her Best Friend Our Lord, she complained…Do You see how they all treat me. Why do You allow it? Came the answer…Teresa, that’s how I treat all My friends….It’s no wonder You have so few, Teresa replied.
Imagine having the kind of closeness, that deep friendship, the genuine intimacy with Our Lord, that you could say that to Him and get away with it. Yet that is precisely what Our Lord wants for each of us. He doesn’t want us to be strangers, or just acquaintances, or even just on good terms; He wants to be our Best Friend - yours and mine.
The woman in the Gospel this morning is a Canaanite. St. Matthew says Our Lord and his disciples had withdrawn to the region of Tyre and Sidon. This is the only time in the Gospels that speak of Jesus coming close to leaving the borders of the Holy Land. Tyre and Sidon still exist today; they are in Lebanon, north of Israel, and so going beyond the boundaries of the Holy Land is quite significant in Our Lord’s ministry. And in the Bible, over the centuries, the Canaanites are cast in a very bad light. Among their false gods and goddesses were Baal (who was reduced to a laughingstock by the prophet Elijah) and Astarte; the Canaanites practice fertility rites, child sacrifice, and many other abominations. The Book of Leviticus in the Old Testament declares about them… The land itself vomits out its inhabitants…. This helps to explain both Our Lord’s initial and protracted coolness and the disgust of the apostles (…Send her away, Lord….). Yet she calls Our Lord…Son of David…, perceiving in Him His power to cure her daughter of her demonic possession. Her initial approach to Our Lord shows us that God will offer His sufficient grace to everyone, no matter whom, where, or when–even to this daughter of pagan gods, goddesses, and multiple abominations. And she takes that initial actual grace from God in hand, and she persists in it, against all obstacles (even the sting of being referred to as a…dog…). She turns even that around and tells Our Lord that there are…dogs… and then there are…dogs…–there are the unclean scavengers who roam through the garbage, and then there are the domesticated house animals that lie near the dinner tables of the children of Israel. She takes that little initial actual grace and persists in it until it has the effect she desires. One might imagine Our Lord with a look of satisfaction–even perhaps a slight grin–as He tells her…O woman, great is thy faith. Let it be done for you as you wish….
God gives each one created in His image and likeness–which is to say every person, including each one of us–that same grace. It is always there; we don’t need to ask for it. Our Lord wants to be the Best Friend we have–and He is the Best Friend any of us could ever have. But we must persist in that friendship so that grace will have the desired effect in us. But it would seem that, today—in our own day and age—too many Catholics do not have friendship with Our Lord and, even worse, many either have little interest in that kind of relation with Christ or—worst of all—many do not know how to go about allowing Our Lord to be their best friend. They simply do not know how to persist in the life of grace—in God’s life available to every man. This lack—of divine friendship, of interest in divine friendship, of awareness of how to gain an intimate friendship with Our Divine Lord—manifests itself in all kinds of ways today. The large number of Catholics who are so casual about the practice of the Faith—not faithful to Sunday Mass, never going to confession, hardly ever praying; or, once in church, do not genuflect because they have no understanding of toward Whom and toward Where their genuflection should be placed; those who dress inappropriately for Mass; those who see little difference between a church and an amphitheatre; those who during the homily spend a lot of time conversing, texting, or reading the parish bulletin. Or those Catholic politicians of either political party who try to live spiritually schizophrenic lives, by claiming personal opposition to, but yet consistently voting for, abortion, same-sex marriage, contraceptive permissiveness for school-aged children, assisted suicide, or any of the other anti-life issues that is embraced by so much of our culture. These behaviors indicate a deep misunderstanding of what it means to be Catholic, coupled with a tendency to take one’s cues from the prevailing ideas of the culture rather than from the Church herself. For the Church teaches infallibly in matters of faith and morals (commonly called Catholic doctrine, or when formally proclaimed as such, Catholic dogma). Catholic doctrine is guaranteed by God Himself; but when those claiming to be Catholic and claiming to understand what that means assert that doctrine is a matter of opinion, while specific social strategies can be dogmatically approved or rejected, then we are no longer dealing with a Catholic mind, and that person can never have a truly intimate relation in the life of divine grace with Our Lord, because He tells us that He Himself is the Truth. The Catholic whose mind and attachments are primarily formed by the world will then relativize doctrine and absolutize their own opinions, rather than submit to all that the Church teaches must be held as true. They can then never know the Truth Which is Christ; not knowing Him Who is Truth Itself, they can not have an intimate relation with Him.
Likewise, a similar obstacle to intimacy with Our Lord can occur in one’s evaluation of the Church herself, for the Church has both human and Divine elements, both fallible and infallible. For example, if a Catholic is willing to cooperate with grace, Catholic doctrine and the sacraments infallibly then engender holiness; however, the Church’s administrative programs bear fruit only according to their prudential matching of the right action to the right situation, and the behavior of individual churchmen bears fruit according to their own individual personal conformity with Christ. For this reason, when a Catholic says…I am leaving the Church—especially because of this Church teaching, or because Father or Bishop So-and-so did this or that—and so they in effect say…I don’t need the Church to have intimacy or friendship with Christ…because they dislike or react negatively to particular programs and policies or to things that particular churchmen have done, they can never have an intimate friendship with Our Lord, because Our Lord gave us the Church as the sole means of intimate friendship with Himself. A Catholic reacts with a Catholic mindset only if he distinguishes such human things as bad administrative decisions or sinful churchmen from the essential holiness of the Church herself. The tendency to dismiss the Church because, in this or that era, the actions of some Church leaders were either immoral or ill-suited to the needs of the time, is to characterize incorrectly the Church by her human element. This tendency to judge the Church by her human and fallible elements, which are very frequently alleged as reasons for rejecting her infallible teachings, is simply another example of a mind and heart formed not by Christ but by the world—today by instruments like The New York Times. And a mind and heart formed by the world (formed by the Times or The Chicago Tribune) can never be one in mind and heart with Our Lord, Who gives us not the world but the Church as our means of salvation.
And recall that the Canaanite woman came to Our Lord not for herself but for the healing of her daughter. So in our own friendship with Our Lord, we must persist especially in hope and in prayer for those who may have lost their own friendship with Christ; He desires to be their Best Friend too. Intimacy with Christ—having Our Lord as our best friend—cannot ever mean that we exclude others from the relation we have with Our Lord. Again, Our Lord gave us the Church as His chosen means of, not only my salvation or your salvation, but of the salvation of everyone. To speak of Jesus and me to the exclusion of anyone else automatically will exclude Jesus Himself, Who told us over and over again to see Him and find Him in the faces of both our neighbor and the stranger, in both our loved ones and our enemies. Very likely, as in the case of St. Teresa of Jesus, if we face sufferings, especially at the hands of those who should be closest to us, it means our friendship with Our Lord is growing; recall His words to Teresa…I treat all my friends that way…. And if we truly persist in grace by prayer, by our communion with the Church and especially by faithful reception of the sacraments, Our Lord will surely remain our Best Friend; even if, as St. Teresa said…it’s no wonder you have so few…; even if He is the only Friend we have, He really is the only Friend any of us needs absolutely, because He is, always and only, the best.
The Twentieth Sunday of the Year
The New Health and Human Services mandate is wrong on every level...
Fr. Robert Behnke |
Stranger
and stranger yet, life ever does seem to get.
As I reflected this past week on today’s Gospel and Our Lord’s parable of
the unjust—but clever and wily and industrious—steward, it was difficult for me
not to see certain parallels with the goings-on culminating last week in
Congress and in the White House: the master, the steward, and the
laborers. It was hard f0r me to see much
self-abandonment and altruism in the actions of our elected representatives
relating to the raising of the government’s debt limitation; it, at least to
me, appeared to be rather strategies in self-interest and politics—especially in
election, or re-election politics—since one important action now is postponed
until after the November 2012 election.
In the Gospel we have a master (whom we should not in this case confuse
with God); a master who nobody much likes (he is portrayed as an absentee
landlord). The master’s steward has been
caught with his hand in the till, and so his livelihood as steward is about to
come to an end. The steward, of course,
is angry; judging from his performance as steward, he does not have his
master’s best interests at heart. Now he
has found a way to get even. Debts in
Palestine—contrary to the Old Testament prohibition of usury—included interest
prefigured into the debt. If 40 barrels
was borrowed, the debtor, as in the first instance in the parable, would
automatically owe 100 barrels; it is somewhat like the value-added tax in many
European countries; the price for an item may be 100 euros; the tax of 23 euros
is hidden in that total of 100 euros owed for the purchase, rather than being
added at the moment of the transaction.
So here the steward has found a way to ingratiate himself with the
master’s debtors: ‘you borrowed 40 barrels of oil and so you now owe 100 in
repayment; give the master 50 instead—so he’ll make less; I will get even with
him, and you’ll owe me one.’ The master
praises the steward for his ingenuity in his facing his personal crisis and so
is not so annoyed even though he the master has lost some profit. He still made a little profit, and in this
case there seems to be honor among thieves.
No one has lost anything of what he originally had: the master has his
money back; the steward has probably skimmed something for himself and now has
a lot of his masters’ former debtors now in his debt—and those who were in debt
to the master are now debt free.
Ingenuity combined with self-interest—and note, there seems neither any help
nor concern for those in need. Whether
master, steward, or debtors, it is all about me, me, and me. Would that—Our Lord almost laments—would that
the children of light were as energetic as promoting the Kingdom of God as are
the children of darkness in promoting their own self-interests. Does it not resemble the way much political,
social, economic life operates? And is
it not the direction in which promoters of abortion and same-sex marriage want the
rules to head? Years ago, the well-known
columnist for the Chicago Daily News Mike Royko opined that the motto of the
Chicago City Council should be Ubi est mihi?—Where’s mine? Is that not what secular culture and the
religion of self-success want the world to cry out: Where’s mine?
Beginning in August
2012, all private insurers in the US must provide women with coverage for
FDA-approved contraception--including sterilization and contraceptives that
have an abortifacient effect--under a mandate announced on last Monday by the
US Department of Health and Human Services. According to the department,
insurers must provide this coverage—a quote here—…without charging a copayment,
deductible, or coinsurance…. The
decision was announced in time to take effect for colleges and universities
that offer health-care plans for their students. HHS is led by Kathleen Sebelius, a Catholic
whose bishop has exhorted her not to receive Holy Communion. There is in this regulation of the
president’s administration an exemption for certain religious employers, but the
exemption is extremely narrow. The
Church would have to cease either hiring or serving non-Catholics to qualify
for the exemption. Plus, the drugs that
Americans would be forced to subsidize under the new rule include Ella, a drug
approved by the FDA as an emergency contraceptive, but which can act like the
abortion drug RU-486—it can abort an established pregnancy weeks after
conception. It is hard to see anything,
moral or otherwise, that is not objectionable about this decision. Most importantly, of course, the new mandate
forces health insurers to pay for the immoral use of drugs, therefore violating
God’s law, which ought to be no small consideration. It even forces those insurers who may abhor
contraception to participate. And
finally, it forces all Americans who pay for health insurance, whether
privately or through taxes, to subsidize this immorality. But there are also other objections that ought
to be raised as well. Pregnancy is not a
disease, and the use of contraception to prevent it is purely elective. It forces health insurance to subsidize
inherently risky behavior—the link between contraception and promiscuity is
simple and clear, as is the link between promiscuity and a wide variety of
diseases. Moreover, contraceptive ‘treatments’
carry a significant health risk of their own.
Encouraging women married to men (you see how specific we now have to be—women
married to men) not to bear children runs completely contrary to our social
interests. Around the world, countries
afflicted with this mentality face rapidly aging populations demanding support,
a support which the smaller younger populations will not be willing to provide,
and very likely will not be able to provide.
We reap what we sow, and when we sow nothing, there is nothing to reap.
So, the new Health
and Human Services mandate is wrong on every level. This is yet another example of the energetic
ingenuity of the efforts of today’s parable’s children of darkness. And so what about…the children of light? Perhaps one purpose of Our Lord’s telling
this story is to compare the enthusiastic response the children of darkness
show in their dealings with other children of darkness to the lackluster
response of the disciples—those who can rightly be called the children of
light—to the Kingdom of God. And the children
of light now? Today’s children of
light? Will they—we—roll over and play
dead—we 56 million Catholics in America who, each at our baptism, were
presented with a candle signifying our acceptance of the light of Christ,
signifying that on that day each one became one of the children of light? Roll over and pretend not to notice, as
Catholics did when Roe v. Wade legalized abortion in 1973; or when so called Gay
Pride parades each year began to take over our streets and, more horribly, the
attention of our children; or when Oregon first legalized assisted suicide; or
when—not states made up of non-Catholics—but when Catholic states like
Massachusetts, and Connecticut, and New York said any two humans could enter
into marriage; or when our own state of Illinois, with its Catholic governor
and Catholic senate president and Catholic house speaker, legalized unions
between any two humans, making those civil unions “a marriage” in all but the name? When will Catholics in America learn the
lesson of this 2000-year-old parable?
Will this latest plot of the children of darkness—led I am certain by
the Prince of Darkness—this clever ingenious plot to make each of us pay for
contraception and abortion disguised as emergency contraception—will this be
the final straw that awakens the Catholic sleeping giant in America? Or will that giant look, yawn, and again—roll
over?
Last Thursday the
Church observed and celebrated the Feast of St. Jean Marie Vianney—the Cure of
Ars—the patron of parish priests. There
is a lesson to be learned, I think, in the very small number of secular,
diocesan, priests like the Cure of Ars, who have been canonized. That small number of canonized secular,
diocesan priests could very well be a big reason why the sleeping American
Catholic giant continues to sleep in the face of continuous abomination after
abomination. In the Office of Matins
last Thursday, we read these words written by the cure:…the Christian’s
treasure is not on earth but in heaven. Our
thoughts, then, ought to be directed to where our treasure is… But the cure is not telling us to ignore the
evil goings-on here on earth. He tells
us:…this is the glorious duty of man: to pray and to love…. Is it love to ignore these continuing successive
abominations? Is it love to allow our
culture to continue to descend into destructive death? Is ignoring the death of American Christian
culture how we will attain our treasure in heaven? Can ignoring this possibly unite us to God
forever? Is this loving our neighbor as
ourselves? …And still worse, the cure
continues,…there are some who seem to speak to the good God like this: ‘I will
only say a couple of things to You, and then I will be rid of You.’ I often think that when we come to adore the Lord,
we would receive everything we ask for, if we would ask with living faith and
with a pure heart…. We, Catholics in
America, must learn the lesson of this parable: we have the power, and the
opportunity, and now again yet another chance, to end the abominations
infecting our national life today, if we have the will to do so—having that
will, having a living faith and having a pure heart, we would receive
everything we ask for…because all along, God has been on our side.
The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, August 7th, 2011
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