REFLECTIONS ON OUR FAITH AND ITS PRACTICES

Update #6: Homeward Bound

BY STEVEN D. GREYDANUS
National Catholic Register
Friday, July 30, 2010

Wednesday afternoon, another papal basilica, Saint Mary Major. The smallest of the papal basilicas, it is also the most architecturally ancient, and possibly the most beautiful (always bracketing St. Peter’s as another experience entirely). The building dates to the fifth century (from the reign of Pope Sixtus III), and its fifth-century mosaics of Old Testament scenes and the life of Christ may be the sacred works of art that speak most powerfully to the devout Catholic in me, as opposed to the art student, in all of Rome. (The art student in me would probably go for the Sistine Chapel.)

I’ve seen St. Mary before, but with a tour guide you learn things you don’t necessarily discover on your own. I’m fascinated to learn that the ornate golden ceiling, uniquely among all the churches in Rome, is actually solid gold, not gold-plated or gold-filled (allegedly Inca gold); that the marble columns in the nave predate the church, and may go back to the original church or even some more ancient Roman building; that the distinctive recurring disc pattern in the floor was created by slicing up pillars borrowed from some previous structure.

Then it’s off to Mass at St. John Lateran, celebrated by Archbishop Myers. Though little remains of the original building, St. John Lateran is still in principle the first legally recognized church building in history—that is, the first church building constructed with imperial approval under Constantine’s Edict of Toleration, which legalized Christianity. As the pope’s cathedral, St. John Lateran is Christendom’s first church in another sense: It’s the home church of the universal pastor, the mother church of the whole world.

In some ways, the basilica today conveys a sense of a mini-St. Peter’s, with immense arch-bearing columns inset on both sides by massive Renaissance statuary. (Also, both St. Peter’s and the cathedral have been criticized for what some critics consider clumsy façades.) In other ways, though, St. John Lateran more resembles the other basilicas outside Vatican City, such as its golden apse mosaic. Also, only St. Peter’s has a barrel-vaulted ceiling; the Lateran, like the others, has a ceiling that is—I don’t know, what do you call non-vaulted ceilings? You can’t call them “flat,” because the basilica ceilings are all elaborately coffered, with gilded panels and recesses. Horizontal, anyway.

Throughout our pilgrimage, different members of our group have been asked to do one of the readings at our Masses (I did the first reading on the first day at Santa Maria in Florence). On the way into the cathedral I’m asked if Sarah would like to do a reading.

When I ask Sarah, she objects, “But Papa, Mama says kids don’t make good lectors.” She’s alluding to Suz’s (and my) low level of tolerance for “family Masses” with grade schoolers stumbling through the readings.

“Sarah, you’re not a kid!” I reassure her. Sarah is 15 and a champion reader. I give her some pointers: read slowly with pauses between phrases; project your voice for the person farthest away; keep your distance from the mike (there’s no mike, so that one was unnecessary).

And so Sarah’s first Mass reading is the first Mass reading in Christendom’s first church. She does a fine job, of course, and a number of fellow pilgrims compliment her afterwards. At dinner the next evening, Archbishop Myers himself praises her reading—a kind word I’m sure she’ll always remember.

After Mass, a Pauline coda to our day: Our last stop is Saint Paul at the Place of Teaching (San Paolo alla Regola, literally “St. Paul of the Rule”), a church built on a site traditionally believed to be the location of Paul’s house arrest in Rome, with a room believed to have been Paul’s actual cell. Two images in this room proclaim in Latin “On account of the hope of Israel I wear these fetters” (Acts 28:20) and “But the word of God is not fettered” (2 Timothy 2:9).

Then we’re on our own for dinner. Since we’re not far from Rome’s historic center, I take Sarah up to the Pantheon, and later to Trevi Fountain. Since my other trip to Rome was infused with Dan Brown-iana, we’ve been talking about Brown a lot on the trip—mostly how dumb his books are—and at the Pantheon we have a good laugh at Brown’s mistaken etymology of the Pantheon’s name as a reference to pantheism.

We have dinner on the Piazza della Rotonda, right across from the Pantheon. The guides tell you that eating off the main piazzas is less expensive, and it is, but hey, sometimes the view and the atmosphere is worth paying for like anything else. In addition to the view of the Pantheon and the square itself, there’s also a couple of street musicians play beside the fountain. And we enjoy the energy of the happy crowds going to and fro. After awhile the musicians make the rounds soliciting tips, which I’m happy to give. They’ve added to our experience.

Thursday morning, a special treat: a tour of the Vatican Gardens, followed by the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s. I’ve glimpsed the Vatican Gardens from above, from the cupola atop the dome of St. Peter’s, but you generally can’t get into Vatican City (beyond St. Peter’s itself) except with a tour group, so it’s exciting to see the gardens up close.

The tour begins in the park of the Villa Pia—a beautiful building commissioned by Pius IV and used today by the Pontifical Academy of Sciences—and ends in the Wood, which is largely uncultivated. Along the way are courtyards with topiary work—including a large papal coat of arms—fountains, exotic trees and such. There are also great views of the dome of St. Peter’s that you can’t see anywhere else.

The highlight of the Garden tour is an exact replica of the grotto of Massabielle in Lourdes where the Blessed Virgin appeared to Bernadette, which includes the original altar of the grotto (I think a replica altar now stands in Lourdes). A statue of the Blessed Virgin stands where Our Lady appeared. Watching Sarah kneel where Bernadette knelt, even in replica, I get goosebumps (or “Godbumps,” as someone commented reading my catacomb piece). If I never get to Lourdes, this moment will do for this lifetime.

After the Gardens, we make our way through the upper level of the Vatican Museums to the Sistine Chapel. Unfortunately, as I know from my last time in Rome, the Sistine Chapel really needs to be seen first thing as soon as the museums open, while there’s still room to breathe. If you get there early enough, you can walk about freely, sit wherever you want, even lie down on the floor. After an hour or so, it’s a unquiet sea of people, with a general tide flowing from the entrance toward the exit. Even going with the flow involves jostling, to say nothing of going against the flow if you want to see something again.

Still and all, it’s the Sistine Chapel. Sarah and I work our way around the room, identifying as many scenes and subjects as we can and working out the compositional schema. When I tell Sarah to take a good long look at the ceiling as we walk, she says she’ll bump into someone, so I lead her while she looks. We say a prayer for the papal conclaves that will meet here in the future.

The end of the tour—of our whole tour—takes us back to St. Peter’s, where we walk through the tombs of the popes and then through St. Peter’s itself. Once again I kneel at the tomb of Peter, this time with Sarah. By this time I think I know St. Peter’s pretty well, so I’m gobsmacked when our tour guide tells us up in the church that the images on the columns that appear to be paintings or frescoes are actually detailed mosaic replicas of paintings—that in fact there are no paintings or frescoes anywhere in the church. Frescoes fade and need restoration, but mosaics are forever (barring, like, earthquakes and such).

Thursday afternoon, left to our own devices, we do the only thing that makes sense: We climb the dome of St. Peter’s to the cupola. The best view in Rome, and a last view of the Vatican Gardens after having seen them up close. Along the way you also get to see the interior of St. Peter’s from high above. You have to climb hundreds of stairs to get there—some of them in the narrow space between the inner and outer walls of them dome, literally leaning on the inner wall of them dome as you go—but it’s totally worth it.

Then down from the dome, and inside St. Peter’s again one last time. Goodbye to St. Peter’s, goodbye to Vatican City.

That evening, a final Mass at North American College’s Immaculate Conception Chapel, where a final surprise awaits us. Just before Mass begins, I text Suz in New Jersey and tell her where we are. Replying, she notes that a recently ordained priest we know—a young man whom Suz met as a rather wide-eyed teenager, full of questions, outside our church’s Eucharistic adoration chapel—is studying at the college. When I look up, there he is at the altar! He’ll be concelebrating with Archbishop Myers.

Early Friday morning we’re off to the airport, where we will face more delays and frustrations getting home. It doesn’t matter. The delays and frustrations are ephemeral; our pilgrimage is, in an almost biblical sense, abiding. Sarah used to wryly note that although she had been up and down the Eastern seaboard, she had never been outside her own time zone. This week we have traveled crossroads where time itself is intersected by eternity.

Not that we had to leave our time zone, or even our home town, to do that. Every Mass is a crossroads of time and eternity; for that matter, so is every sacrament, every prayer, even every good work done in grace. But though the Mass is the source and center of our devotional lives, it is only a service road, if I can put it that way, off the one great crossroad, the crucial intersection when eternity broke into time.

God became a man, and he did so at a particular time and place: a seismic event that sent aftershocks through time and space and even into eternity. Some of these aftershocks cannot be measured or calculated: the grace of the sacraments; the salvation of souls; the workings of the Holy Spirit. Other effects are more palpable: the proclamation of the apostles; the succession of popes and bishops; the witness of the early martyrs; the heroic virtue of saints like Francis and Catherine.

It is because God became a man that we are baptized, go to Mass, and pray the prayers we do. But it’s also the reason there are churches built on the sites of the Nativity and the Resurrection, and why Catholics have always made pilgrimages to these sites. It’s why the relics of the apostles and early martyrs were venerated, and why the early Christians celebrated Masses on the tombs in the catacombs. The way of the sacraments, the way of prayer and the way of pilgrimage are not rival ways. They are crossroads, and their intersection is Jesus Christ.

In my last entry I wrote that having experienced St. Peter’s Basilica makes me love my home parish of St. John’s more, not less. Likewise, countless pilgrims have found, as Sarah and I have, that our participation at Mass is enriched, not diminished, for having experienced the catacombs and prayed at the tombs of Peter and Paul. When I confess in the Creed one holy catholic and apostolic Church, my idea of oneness and catholicity has new vitality for having experienced the papal Pallium Mass. And the challenge of Francis’ simplicity, poverty and devotion is more potent for me for having walked the streets of Assisi and celebrated Mass at his tomb.

One’s participation in the Mass is meant to flow backwards and forwards throughout the week, to touch everything we do and everyone we interact with. In the same way, a pilgrimage should bring into focus the spiritual pilgrimage that is this life. The homecoming that matters is not the one at the end of the cross-Atlantic flight.

There is also a sense in which we go to Mass not only for ourselves but also for others around us. It is not only we who benefit, it’s also those with whom we are able to share the fruits of our participation in the Mass. I’ve tried to do something similar in this series of posts: to share our pilgrimage with others. For those who have made the journey with us in these posts, I hope you’ve found it worthwhile.

P.S. Yes, I’m still planning on adding photos! Stay tuned.

The void within

Catholicism is hollowing out in its traditional European strongholds. But signs of intriguing new life are springing up at its periphery

The Economist
Aug 5th 2010

IN THE small world of traditional French Catholicism, everybody knows about Abbé Francis Michel. For the past 23 years this small, stubborn figure in his well-worn soutane has been responsible for the cure of souls in the village of Thiberville in Normandy. The locals like his conservative style, even though his Latin services would not suit all French churchgoers. The village’s 12th-century church, and the 13 other places of worship under his care, are kept in good repair by his supporters. (These days, some priests in rural France must cope with as many as 30 churches.)

Since the start of the year Abbé Francis has been at war with the region’s bishop—in church terms, a liberal—who has been trying to close the parish and move him to other duties. Uproar ensued in January when the bishop came to mass and tried to give the priest his marching orders. Most villagers followed Abbé Francis as he strode off to another church and celebrated in the old-fashioned way. He has made two appeals to Rome, both rejected on technicalities; a third is pending.

To Father Francis’s admirers Thiberville is a pinpoint of light against a sombre background: the near-collapse of Catholicism in some of its heartlands. In the diocese of Evreux, Christianity has been part of the fabric of life for 15 centuries. Of its 600,000 inhabitants, about 400,000 might call themselves, at least loosely, Catholic. But the number of priests under the age of 70 is a mere 39, and only seven of those are under 40. That is just a bit worse than average in a country that, as recently as the 1950s, boasted 40,000 active priests; in a few years, the number under 65 will be a tenth of that. This suggests a body that is not so much shrinking as dying.

On closer inspection French Catholicism is not dead, but it is splintering to the point where the centre barely holds. The brightest flickers are on the fringes: individuals like Abbé Pierre, founder of the Emmaus movement for the homeless; “charismatics” whose style draws on Pentecostalism, and traditionalists who love Latin rites and processions. Meanwhile, the church’s relatively liberal mainstream is almost in free fall. As conservatives like Abbé Francis see it, it is largely the liberals’ own fault: “They keep selling and closing properties, while we [traditionalists] are busy building and restoring.”

Among Europe’s historically Catholic lands, France is an outlier. Its leap into modernity took the form of a secular revolution; that differs from places like Ireland or Poland, where church and modern nationhood go together. Things are different again in Bavaria or the southern Netherlands, where the church inspires local pride; or in Spain, where Catholicism is at issue in an ideological war.

But in many European places where Catholicism remained all-powerful until say, 1960, the church is losing whatever remains of its grip on society at an accelerating pace. The drop in active adherence to, and knowledge of, Christianity is a long-running and gentle trend; but the hollowing out of church structures—parishes, monasteries, schools, universities, charities—is more dramatic. That is the backdrop against which the paedophile scandal, now raging across Europe after its explosion in the United States, has to be understood. The church’s fading institutional power makes it (mercifully) easier for people who were abused by clerics to speak out; and as horrors are laid bare, the church, in many people’s eyes, grows even weaker.

A couple of decades ago Ireland defied the idea that modern societies grow secular: churches were packed. But last year, after a decade of mounting anger over clerical malpractice, the nation was stunned by two exposés of cruelty by men and women of God. First, a nine-year investigation found that thousands of children had been maltreated at church-run industrial schools and orphanages. Then a probe of the archdiocese of Dublin, over the three decades up to 2004, not only found widespread child abuse by priests but police collusion in hiding it. Five Irish bishops offered to step down; the pope has accepted three resignations and is considering the others. When a new bishop, Liam MacDaid, took office on July 25th, he presented a stark picture: “Society has forced us in the Irish church to look into the mirror, and what we saw [was] weakness and failure, victims and abuse.”

Ireland is still a churchgoing nation; about half claim to attend mass weekly, and there has been an uptick since the economy turned sour. But in a land that used to export priests and nuns to the world, vocations have dried up. In a couple of decades there could be a French-style implosion. That need not imply a collapse in Christian belief; but as one Catholic history buff puts it, rural Ireland could go back to its early medieval state, when a largely priestless folk-religion held sway. Already, popular religion—local pilgrimages, or books on Celtic prayer—does better than anything involving priests. And Ireland’s political class, once so priest-ridden, now distances itself from the clergy.


A state within a state

In Belgium, where Catholicism used to hold a disparate nation together, relations between church and state have been transformed in a spectacular way. On June 24th, as the country’s nine bishops were conferring at their headquarters, the building was taken over by the police. On the same day police raided the home of a retired archbishop, drilled holes in the tomb of at least one cardinal (looking for hidden papers) and took away 450 documents from the office of a church committee that was probing clerical abuse. The committee, headed by a layman, resigned in protest.

What the Belgian and Irish stories suggest is the collapse of a centuries-old order in which the church functioned as a sort of “state within a state”—administering its own affairs, and often the affairs of its flock, by a system of law and authority that ran in parallel with, and could trump, the authority of the state. Europe’s enlightenment may have put an end to the sort of formal theocracy in which popes commanded armies and kings ruled by divine right. But in a messy mixture of ways the authority of church and state has remained intertwined across Europe.

Even now quasi-theocracy dies hard. Ireland’s hierarchs have lost their grip on secondary and higher education, but primary schooling is still a church-based affair; even non-Christian youngsters are drilled in Catholic teaching. In France the Catholic hierarchy had until recently an informal place in the establishment. Nicolas Sarkozy may be the first French president who does not see the archbishop of Paris as a natural interlocutor. Mr Sarkozy, whose own roots are secular and Jewish, speaks of the church from an outsider’s distance.

As the Irish case shows, the most insidious links between church and state are often informal ones, which can leave priests and bishops virtually exempt from scrutiny. But all over Europe the child-abuse scandal has made secular powers keener to reassert their authority, and less willing to accept the Catholic church as a semi-autonomous power. In almost every country, therefore, the church is in decline as an institution—a situation in contrast to its vibrancy in Africa, Asia and much of Latin America, and the energy brought by Latinos to the church in the United States. But its decline across Europe is not uniform; in each country, the church faces a different mixture of threats and residual strengths.

Across southern Europe an intense, atavistic attachment to Catholic tradition remains, sharpened by a perceived challenge from the fast-growing Muslim neighbours. In Italy Catholicism, as a mark of cultural difference in a homogenising world, is held dear in some unlikely quarters: among atheist intellectuals, for example. As recently as 2006 a research institute, Eurispes, asserted that the share of Italians calling themselves Catholic had risen by eight percentage points over 15 years, to 88%. It also found that 37% of Catholics claimed to be regular mass-goers. Despite the decline of its flagship party, the Christian Democrats, the church has muscle; it has seen off challenges to Italy’s strict curbs on in vitro fertilisation.

But Italians are less pious than they pretend. A study of central Sicily, published this year, found that only 18% of people actually went to church, although 30% said they did. And the Eurispes study of Italy found that 66% backed liberal divorce laws and 38% supported euthanasia. Only 19% favoured abortion on demand, but 65% could accept the practice in cases of rape. Strikingly, more Catholics than non-Catholics supported cohabitation by unmarried couples. Behind supposed religious uniformity lies a range of views. “Rather than Catholicism, it is more accurate to talk about Catholicisms,” says Giuseppe Giordan, a sociologist of religion. “There are those who identify completely with the teaching of the pope, and those who dissent—both from the traditionalist and liberal viewpoints.” Among those who—paradoxically—find Pope Benedict XVI’s church a tad liberal are xenophobic groups that fear Islam: they groan at the sight of Catholic charities running halal soup-kitchens for immigrants.

Across much of traditionally Catholic Europe, there is massive dissent from the church’s teaching on morality. If the Vatican has lost credibility in this area, says Mr Giordan, it is for reasons that go beyond sex: it has failed to see that since the 1960s, there has been “a huge anthropological change in favour of…freedom of choice. People are no longer prepared to obey instructions.” The pope’s defenders—like Giovanni Maria Vian, editor of the Vatican daily, L’Osservatore Romano—would insist that Pope Benedict does believe in human freedom: he would prefer a small church of freely committed believers than a giant flock herded in by custom or constraint. But in many parts of Europe, critics of the Vatican feel it still tries to tilt the playing-field—by clinging on to old privileges—rather than embracing religious freedom.


The end of obedience

In Spain the church presents all these contradictions: it is culturally very strong, and rooted in one half of a divided society. It is losing its sway over people’s behaviour but retains a loud and controversial voice. Some 28% of people in Spain call themselves practising Catholics, and another 46% non-practising Catholics; as many as 38% profess devotion to a particular saint or image of Christ or the Virgin Mary. But secularism, and a long-term backlash against the Catholic authoritarianism of the past, is on the march: 2009 was the year when town-hall weddings finally overtook those in church.

In recent weeks thousands of Spanish Catholics have joined church-backed rallies against a new, liberal abortion law, part of the ruling Socialists’ programme of radical change. In other measures, gay marriage has been legalised and religious (in effect, Catholic) education has been downgraded. Rallies in favour of the new abortion law were just as large, though, and a centre-right government would be unlikely to change it. The church can still mobilise, but it cannot impose its will.

Among the Catholic nations of Europe, Poland stands out as the only place where seminaries are full and priests abound. The percentage of churchgoers remains high, though it peaked, at 55%, in 1987. But Catholicism has no monopoly over Poland’s public square; the country played host this summer to a European gay pride march, and this year’s musical hits include a song by a famous crooner, Olga Jackowska, in which she discloses that she was abused by a priest as a child. Nor is Polish Catholicism immune from social changes; a survey of Polish priests found that 54% said they would like to have a wife and family, and 12% said they already had a stable relationship with a woman.

But for Poles Catholicism retains a huge emotional power. It is true that Polish Catholicism has a vitriolic fringe, prone to bigotry and anti-Semitism. But there are several positive traditions on which the church can draw, ranging from the efforts of John Paul II to improve relations with Jews to the tolerant nature of the 17th-century Polish Commonwealth, which had room for Protestants, Jews and Muslims. Unlike the once-mighty Latin churches at whose behest the New World was conquered, the Polish church sees itself as honourable but embattled: a defender of the nation against invasion and a comfort in its darkest days.


Embracing humility

Poland’s tradition—or rather, some carefully selected bits of it—is one place to which the Vatican might look if it wants to shake off the habit of arrogance that has bedevilled its responses to the child-abuse scandal. It is true that most of the cases took place in the 1960s and 1970s; the culture of cronyism and impunity which made such horrors possible is now well in the past, and most of the institutions involved have been shut for decades. But many of today’s senior bishops were part of the world that tried to cover these things up. That is deeply embarrassing for the elderly men who now run the church, including the 83-year-old pontiff. And their reaction has ranged from slow to staggeringly insensitive.

As a rule of thumb, the reaction has been especially clumsy in parts of Europe (including Rome itself) where the church has recent memories of enjoying unchallenged power; and much more intelligent, and appropriately humble, in places where the church was used to fighting its own corner in a noisy democratic space.

Take the sunny Saturday in May when the Dutch diocese of Roermond, in the country’s Catholic south, commemorated 450 years of life. In deference to the public mood, the festivities were reduced in scale, and a note of repentance was added to a dignified cathedral service. A small group of child-abuse protesters rallied outside, but the impression was left of a church already working to clean its stables.

In the French city of Lyon, where St Irenaeus hammered out some of the basics of Christian doctrine 19 centuries ago, the church is downsizing in a different way. One of its best-known priests is Father Christian Delorme, an admirer of Gandhi who has been speaking out for poor Muslim immigrants since the 1970s. As pastor of two parishes near the city centre, where families of Spanish or Portuguese origin rub shoulders with North Africans, he is kept down to earth by having to conduct at least 200 funerals a year. Some of his colleagues, he says, refuse to take funerals because they feel they should be preparing their flock for the time when there are no priests available. But he officiates willingly, feeling that this is his biggest chance to meet people who are mostly unchurched. At 60, he regrets the decline of the progressive French Catholicism that flourished in his youth—and also of Christian culture in general. Businessmen he lectures to do not even know the rudiments of doctrine.

But he is too busy, and intellectually active, to wallow in gloom or pessimism. As he sees things, the regime of laicité has protected the French church from the dangers of power over the vulnerable. Catholic schools exist in France—but not the vast network of unaccountable authority that led Irish, Belgian and Bavarian priests into temptation. French Catholicism is a battered tree, but it can still sprout new and unexpected branches. In places like Italy, where the church shelters behind a high wall of culture and convention, the hardest days may still lay ahead.

Why Catholics Should Build Beautiful Churches

Fr. Dwight Longenecker
gkupsidedown.blogspot.com
Aug. 5, 2010

I used to wonder why the church, in her venerable wisdom, had a memorial feast day for the dedication of Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome. What's the big deal? It's just a church building right? OK, it's bigger and older and more beautiful than most churches, but so what. The church is really the people right? Well, yes and no. Certainly St Paul talks about us being 'living stones' being built up into the 'temple', but that image only makes sense if there is such a thing as a physical temple made up of real stones.

So why should Catholics build beautiful churches? Lots of reasons. First of all, our faith is an incarnational faith. We believe that the Son of God took flesh of the Blessed Virgin and entered this physical realm of human history. That transaction within history registers as the expression of God's everlastingly beautiful glory and power alive in this world. So a Catholic Church that is beautiful and built to last is a witness to the incarnation. It's beauty also represents the sacrifices of time, talent and treasure to build such a temple fit for God. "This is not just a meeting hall!" the beautiful Catholic Church proclaims. "This is a temple where God dwells in our midst as Christ his Son came to dwell in our midst."

Furthermore, so many churches were dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary because she, in a most unique way, is the temple of God on earth. She is beautiful. She is full of grace. She is transcendent and eternal because of the graces received from her Son. So too, the Catholic Church should be a silent witness to these truths. Here we have built a temple that is beautiful and transcendent and full of God's presence and grace. Here the Son of God dwells in his sacramental presence. This great Church is therefore a reminder of the Blessed Virgin, and if a reminder of her, then a reminder that her destiny is the destiny of each one of us. We too are called to be temples of the Holy Spirit. We too are called to be transformed by hard work, sacrifice and God's grace to become everlastingly beautiful. We too are called to an eternal destiny.

Here's another reason: a beautiful Catholic church proclaims our values. It says, "This church is going to last 1000 years. It will be so beautiful that no one will dare to tear it down.We believe in the eternal truths that are so beautiful and true and everlasting that no one can ever destroy them. Furthermore, we believe in values that are everlasting and never change. We aim to live lives that are as solid and dignified and beautiful and true and everlasting as this building. Our doctrinal truths, our moral truths, our love, our life, our joy--all of these are everlasting and this church speaks silently and eloquently that what we hold dear we are willing to invest in, and we are willing to sacrifice much to build a witness that will last long after we are gone. This will speak to believers and unbelievers a truth that is beyond words and which will lift them to prayer which is beyond words.

In every age people spend money building beautiful temples to their gods. If you want to see what gods a society worships look around for the beautiful buildings. Which buildings in our cities are built with marble, fountains, high ceilings, silver and gold fittings, oriental carpets and fine furnishings? Banks and insurance companies mostly. There you find the temples we have built to our gods. Then look at so many modern Catholic Churches--built on the cheap with tawdry materials, cut corners, shoddy workmanship, poor design by ignorant architects who are working for their own glory trying to 'be creative'. A beautiful, traditional Catholic Church protests against all of that vulgarity and low life with great dignity and power.

A beautiful Catholic Church speaks all these truths silently in stone. When we build temporary, secular looking structures we say exactly the opposite. When we build in cheap materials, cut corners, choose poor stuff, tacky figurines and go the way of plastic, mass produced fiberglass, then we are (often literally) building in wood, hay and stubble. Why are we surprised therefore, that our Catholics have a faith that is cheap, temporary, second rate and falling apart? Our faith is incarnational. I believe that if we invested more money in building and maintaining our beautiful buildings that we would actually be investing in a stronger faith for the future.

The last point (and I could go on) is that a church is not just a meeting place. It is a house of prayer. It is a place that becomes hallowed with prayer. Therefore it must be a place that lifts the heart to prayer. The human heart is vulnerable to beauty. The beauty of worship and the beauty of a church building lifts even the hardest heart to prayer. In a beautiful church people's hearts are opened. They stop and gaze and lift their eyes upward and as they do the fall to their knees, and even the most unlearned stumble and mumble the words their stuttering tongues seek to find: Holy, Holy Holy is the Lord God of Hosts.

Anchorage attorney considers the cloistered monastery

By Patricia Coll Freeman,
CatholicAnchor.org

Anchorage, Alaska, Aug 8, 2010 / 12:46 am (CNA).- Many find it hard to fathom why a woman would ever think of trading in a good job and the prospect of marriage and family for a life of poverty, chastity and obedience. Tara Clemens of Anchorage, Alaska is doing just that.

It’s all the more surprising because Clemens was raised Evangelical Protestant. Plus, she’s a highly-educated attorney who already offers extraordinary service as a lay person in the Catholic Church.

So why leave all the world has to offer for a nun’s habit and the silence of a cloistered monastery?

Because it might be what God wants, explained the 31-year-old Clemens.

She regularly prays, “Lord, what is it that you want of me? Tell me what it is, and I will do it.”

That prayer is part of a journey to discern God’s call for her life. Taking time to discern one’s vocation is something she believes everyone should do.

“God calls everyone,” she said in an interview with the Catholic Anchor — to marriage, the single state or maybe even the religious life.

Called to be Catholic

Clemens’ path to the monastery began even before she was Catholic. She was working full-time and attending law school – but she wasn’t much involved in a faith community. The summer before her final year in school, she took stock of her life and realized she wasn’t where God wanted her to be.

So she began praying, “Lord, show me your church. Show me where you want me.”

For the first time, Clemens looked closely at Protestant doctrine, which “raised more questions than answers,” she said.

Then, a coworker invited her to Mass.

“Not being able to think of an excuse to say, ‘No’, I said, ‘Yes,’” Clemens recalled with a laugh. Soon after, she began investigating Catholicism, “so I could evangelize my friend” out of it, Clemens admitted.

“I came to the conclusion that God was answering my prayer and (the Catholic Church) was, in fact, the church — his church — where he wanted me,” she explained.

After graduating, Clemens moved to Alaska, studied for the Bar Exam and began the official steps to become Catholic.

The Jaw Dropper

In praying to find a job, she “stumbled across” a vocation prayer which she began to say.

Then, one day in the kitchen, Clemens’ Protestant mother articulated a possibility that had never crossed Clemens’ mind.

“She said, ‘Just promise me you’re not going to become a nun,’ recalled Clemens, whose “jaw hit the floor” at the idea.

Still, Clemens couldn’t make the promise.

“I said, ‘I can’t do that. I don’t know what God might call me to in the future.’”

But the idea of the religious life was anathema to Clemens.

“Inside, I was like, ‘No, no, no, no, we are not going there!’ But I felt like I needed to take it to God in prayer,” she explained. So she did – in addition to reading about religious vocations and attending discernment retreats.

Now, two years later, she is applying to enter the Corpus Christi Monastery — a Dominican congregation of contemplative nuns in California.

The nuns promote devotion to Christ in the Blessed Sacrament and pray for the salvation of souls. To support themselves, they bake altar bread for Mass.

No Fear

The nuns of Corpus Christi Monastery come from varied backgrounds. Many are college-educated and before the monastery, enjoyed professional careers.

As they were, Tara Clemens is headed up the ladder of success. She has an undergraduate degree in criminal justice and a doctorate in law. She is co-founder of the female-run Anchorage law firm of Helzer-Clemens, LLC.

At her parish, Clemens serves as lector, extraordinary minister of Holy Communion and chair of the pastoral council.

“When I entered the church, I jumped in with both feet,” Clemens said.

She also helped found the parish’s now flourishing young adult group and initiated “Christ in the City” Eucharistic adoration — evenings of prayer before the Blessed Sacrament that she hoped would help young adults discern God’s will for their lives.

Going to the cloister would mean leaving all those projects, but Clemens is excited about the new work God may be asking of her as a nun.

“We are called to live this life with eternity in mind,” she explained.

“By giving everything up, so to speak, and withdrawing to a cloister to contemplate God … sitting at the feet of Jesus and to pray for the world, the salvation of souls – that in and of itself is a witness that God is sufficient,” Clemens added.

The Sacrifices

While Clemens is happy about a possible religious calling, she acknowledged that it won’t come without sacrifice — including of marriage and children.

“I love children, and so the idea of not having children really pulled at me, and I really wrestled with that — with not being a wife and a mother,” Clemens said.

But according to the church, she explained, “as women, we are all called to be mothers” — physically or spiritually. That gives Clemens peace — if she is called to prayer in a cloister, she will be nurturing souls spiritually.

In the cloistered monastery, Clemens said, that means carrying “within your heart the cares of Christ” — including the much-loved souls for whose salvation a cloistered nun spends her life praying.

Spiritual motherhood is a hard idea for some to grasp, she observed, particularly parents who see religious life through the lens of their own vocation of marriage.

“Their thinking is… ‘I am so happy being married and having children, I just want that for my own son or daughter.’ …but God might be calling them to something a little different than what they’d imagined,” Clemens explained.

Living in the cloister also means separation from parents and siblings. During her month-long visit to the cloister in February, Clemens said many of the sisters acknowledged that while families can visit, being away can be hard.

But Clemens banks on the fact that “God gives you the grace you need when you need it.” And she keeps eternity in perspective. “God willing, we’ll all be in Heaven forever,” she added.

In the meantime, Clemens’ faces another divide from her family. Her Protestant family opposes her investigation into religious life. While she understands their position and respects them, she said, “I must be faithful to go where Jesus is calling me to go. Jesus spoke more than once on the cost of following him.”

Still, “there is always hope” for accord, she added. “All things work for good for those who trust him. I firmly believe that.”

Another cost that Clemens faces is educational debt that must be paid before she can enter the monastery. She has been working to meet those obligations — and also now, she is connected to the Labouré Society, a non-profit organization that raises funds to help would-be religious resolve school debt.

There’s no guarantee, but she continues praying.

“If this is what God wants for my life,” she explained, “then he will make way.”

'We only have today'

One’s vocational discernment can be a long road, but it starts today, Clemens believes.

“One of my favorite quotes is by Blessed Mother Teresa… ‘Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.’”

“Sometimes, you kind of have to step back out of your life and really take stock of where you are and what it is you’re doing and not doing,” Clemens explained. “Spend time with God in prayer” and go to the sacraments, she urged. “Ask God, ‘What is it that you want me to do?’ and be open to the answer.”

“God knows us so much better than we know ourselves,” Clemens added. “He knows what is going to truly fulfill and make us happy.”

“Cooperating with the working of God in your life,” she said, results in “being transformed to be the person that he created you to be.” And the aim of that is “to know him, love him, serve him and be with him for all eternity.”

Goodbye, Old Legion. All the Powers of the New General
As the pope's delegate, Archbishop De Paolis has full authority over everything and everyone. For Corcuera, Garza, and the other heads of the congregation founded by Marcial Maciel, the end is in sight. But they're still resisting

by Sandro Magister





ROME, July 30, 2010 – The superiors of the Legionaries of Christ have put on a brave face for the arrival of the pontifical delegate who will oversee the rebuilding of their congregation from the ground up.

But they know that they have lost all authority of their own. The Vatican decree that establishes the delegate's powers states, in fact, that they can be removed at any moment, "ad nutum Sanctae Sedis." And in any case, from now on, all of their decisions will be valid only if they are approved by the delegate, to whom they will have to submit in everything.

The delegate is Archbishop Velasio De Paolis, age 75. Benedict XVI gave him the office on June 16, but the appointment was made public on July 9, because until that date De Paolis himself was busy producing the balance sheet for the Vatican's accounts in 2009, in his capacity as president of the prefecture of economic affairs of the Holy See.

Administrative competence, in fact, is necessary for the person who will supervise the Legionaries of Christ. To this, De Paolis adds other abilities that are no less important for the post that has been entrusted to him: in canon and civil law, in dogmatic and moral theology, subjects of which he was a professor at the pontifical Gregorian and Urbaniana universities. Not only that. De Paolis is also a religious of the missionary congregation of Saint Charles Borromeo, called "Scalabrinians" after the name of their founder, and is procurator general of the order. He therefore also has direct experience of what a religious order is, and how it is governed.

In the letter of appointment dated June 16, reproduced in its entirety further below, Benedict XVI appoints Archbishop De Paolis to govern the Legion in his name "for as long as it takes" in order to remake it from scratch, with a new constitution and with an extraordinary general chapter to mark the new beginning.

But it is in the following decree, released on July 9 by the Vatican secretariat of state, also reproduced further below, that the delegate's powers are established more precisely.

These powers are extremely broad, practically unlimited. The delegate has direct authority over all the superiors of the Legion at the different levels, general, provincial, local, and over all the communities and individual religious.

He can even exercise his authority on his own initiative, independent of the current constitutions of the order.

Any decision, in any area, falls to him. The delegate is in charge of admissions to the novitiate, religious profession and priestly ordination, the hiring, transfer, and firing of employees, the orientation of the universities, the seminaries, and the schools.

It is the delegate who decides in matters of extraordinary administrative affairs, or the divesting of assets.

In short: the delegate "has the power to intervene wherever he sees fit, including in the internal government of the institute, on all levels."

It is clear that, with a delegate endowed with such powers, there is no future for the "system" that concentrated control of the Legion in the hands of the two main heirs of founder Marcial Maciel, Frs. Álvaro Corcuera and Luís Garza Medina, and with the latter even more than with the former.

The end of this "system" also involves the end of that separate body, proprietary and managerial, under the total and exclusive control of Fr. Garza, which is Grupo Integer.

The delegate will have the use of four outside personal assistants – whose appointment is still awaited – to whom he will assign specific tasks. One of these will handle assets and administration.

Moreover, the delegate will coordinate a supplemental apostolic visit to the movement Regnum Christi, the lay branch of the congregation.

One key passage of the decree from the secretariat of state is where it establishes that "everyone has open access to the delegate and all can deal personally with him." Since Archbishop De Paolis took his post, this is in fact what has begun to happen.

But at the same time, the fact that the previous superiors have remained in their positions is acting as a hindrance. Many priests and religious of the Legion continue to resent their paralyzing control. And they're not coming out into the open. They're staying quiet even with the delegate.

But the delegate has an urgent need precisely to identify, within the congregation, the most authentic men and groups to focus on for renewal.

In early September, when the delegate really goes to work, his first moves will be important.

If there are immediate and concrete actions to break from the coalition of power that has governed the Legion until now, it is likely that the renewal will happen sooner, counting – as the pope has written – on the "sincere zeal and fervent religious life" of many members of the Legion.


_____________

Have a look at this!!!!! I'm on the floor!!! This is great!!

What the????

Well, being more the traditional kind of Catholic, I think this is great! And even if our beloved Papa were present, he would certainly not mind!
Our Holy Father is constantly talking about love, joy and peace. It seemed to me that everybody present was very joyful and that there were various nationalities present. And a big amount of very young Franciscan brothers and sisters!

If this behavior is induced by a deep love for our Lord, I think it's great! It’s actually a demonstration of inculturated Catholic faith Bavarian style: after you've prayed, after you've adored our Lord and after your daily work is done: show the world how much you love the Lord. That also includes Clerics and Religious, laughter, song and dance - occasionally even drink - and hands on contact with the flock - which has become impossible due to the abuse scandal and is painfully missed by both sides).

I think there must be a differentiation between Puritanism and traditionalism. Catholicism has nothing to do with the former!

Ignatius Press launches illustrated Catholic books for children

San Francisco, Calif., Aug 18, 2010 / 03:09 am (CNA).- Ignatius Press announced on Monday that they are launching a collection of illustrated Catholic books for children, with the first eight to be released in October 2010.

The company has partnered with Magnificat in publishing a series of Catholic books that will “capture the imagination of children of various ages through delightful full-color illustrations, exciting stories from the Bible and lives of the saints, and simple yet powerful prayers,” read a press release on Aug. 16.

Ignatius decided to republish the books in the U.S. after viewing Magnificat's children's books that had been released in France. Magnificat is known for its pocket-sized devotional books featuring daily Mass readings, meditations and prayers in editions created for both adults and children.

Among the books that will be released this fall are two hardcover titles, “John Mary Vianney: The Holy Cure of Ars” and “Bernadette: The Little Girl from Lourdes,” which are intended for older children. Three sturdy books for younger children will also be published, including “My First Prayers for My Family,” “My First Prayers for Christmas,” and “The Bible for Little Ones.” Two comic book style titles will include, “The Adventures of Lupio, Volume 1: The Adventures and Other Stories,” and “The Illustrated Gospel for Children.” Additionally, the first volume in a series of coloring books titled, “Pictures from the Gospels: A Coloring Book,” will be released.

“Ignatius Press is honored and excited to be working with Magnificat to publish this new line of such high quality, beautifully designed Catholic books for children that have that wonderful combination of inspiring, informative text with such lovely artwork,” said Anthony Ryan, marketing director for Ignatius Press.

“Magnificat has earned a very high reputation in the USA since they launched their incredibly popular monthly worship aid, Magnificat, and they have been publishing award-winning books in France for decades,” he added.

“We are very confident at Ignatius Press that this new collaboration with Magnificat will fill a real need for many more beautiful, outstanding Catholic books for children that will be greatly appreciated by the millions of Catholics, young and old, in North America.”

Mother Dolores Hart Talks about Patricia Neal, Gary Cooper
Share BY TIM DRAKE Wednesday, August 25, 2010 6:11 AM Comments (3)

Actress Patricia Neal and Mother Dolores Hart (photo courtesy of Barbara Middleton).

When actress Patricia Neal died earlier this month, Mother Dolores Hart, the former actress-turned nun, lost a friend. Neal was a frequent guest and supporter of the Abbey of Regina Laudis. Dolores Hart is known for starring opposite stars such as Elvis Presley, Montgomery Clift, and Robert Wagner. At the age of 25, she entered the Benedictine Order at Regina Laudis. She’s still a voting member of the Motion Picture Academy. Mother Dolores Hart spoke with me last week about being converted to Catholicism by sweet rolls, and the role that she played in Neal’s coming into the Church.

I understand that you converted to Catholicism at the age of 10. How did that come about?
My grandmother sent me to a Catholic school because it was closer and I wouldn’t have to cross the street car tracks. By age nine I was quite taken with the whole experience of the Catholic Church.

The kids at school would fast. After Mass they had chocolate milk and sweet rolls. Those of us who weren’t Catholic would eat our breakfast at home. I was jealous of those kids who had breakfast there, so I told Sister that I would love to have bread with the children.

She thought I meant something more high-minded and told the principal, “I think this girl is asking for the Eucharist.”

She asked me, ‘Dolores, do you want to stay and go to the classes?’ I replied that I’d be happy to do that, I would just have to ask my grandmother. I told my grandmother that I could have breakfast at the school if I went to the classes, and she agreed. So, I began going to the religious classes and I began to like it. While I waited after school, I would sit in the chapel and pray to the Lord and I began to like that very much. Eventually, I got hooked, and before I knew it the “bread with the children” meant more to me than just the sweet rolls.

According to what I’ve read there were a couple of seeds to your religious vocation – one being the role of Pope John XXIII while you were filming “St. Francis of Assisi” and another being the film “Lisa.” Talk about what led to your vocation?
It was quite startling when I met his Holiness. I wasn’t prepared for it. When I greeted him I told him my name was Dolores Hart. He took my hands in his and said, ‘No, you are Clara.’ I replied, “No, no, that’s my name in the film.” He looked at me again and said, ‘No, you are Clara.’ I wanted to sink to the floor, because I wasn’t there to begin arguing with the Pope. It gave me great pause for a number of hours. Being young, I dismissed it as one of those things that happened, but it stayed very deeply in my mind for a long time.

I think the imprint of that came back very strongly when I did the film Lisa. People sometimes associate that moment of clarity with the film St. Francis of Assisi because it was such a direct association. That was so obvious that I dismissed it entirely. I would not even look at it.

When we did Lisa, the story of this young woman who had been so violated by her experience as a Nazi survivor, the experience of taking on that role was one that quite knocked my socks off. In preparation for that role, I found a woman who had been at Auschwitz. I talked to her about what her experience meant for her.

She spoke about when the Nazi guard came into her room to take over her house. The worst thing she could imagine was when he grabbed her braid, took his knife, and cut it off at the root. Then he shoved it into his pocket saying, ‘This is the souvenir of the day.’ She told me that nothing that could happen that day was worse than that moment.

I knew how much long hair meant. I went through St. Francis of Assisi wearing a wig so that they wouldn’t cut my hair. Hearing that story, I couldn’t retain any of my holding back. I realized that the human condition was in such terrible pain that I wondered what one person could do? What can one woman do to face that kind of evil? The only thing that came to me was the consecration of a woman was the only way to fight that. You have to believe that giving your body into that kind of prayer has a meaning. I found that the sense of holding that experience kept pressuring me to want to do something and wanting to deeply make some kind of a stand.

I understand that you recently lost your friend, actress Patricia Neal.
We were on our way to see her in Martha’s Vineyard when we received the message that she had passed. I was completely dumbstruck, and yet at the same time it was in line with what she wanted. She had announced to everyone at the supper table the night before that she loved everyone. She was in great spirits and gave a beautiful farewell. The next day her lungs filled up and there was no way to get her back.

Did you play a role in her conversion?
Patricia was sent to the Abbey by Gary Cooper’s daughter, Maria. After Patricia’s divorce, in desperation she went to France. There, she ran into Maria at a hotel. Patricia told her her troubles and Maria said, ‘I am going to send you somewhere where I know that you are going to be helped.’

We helped her through a very long recovery. During that time she wrote her own book – As I Am – with the help of Mother Benedicta. She regained her acting wings and did a poetry reading for our Abbey fair, during which a huge thunderstorm took down our tent. Her response was to build the The Gary- The Olivia Performing Arts Center, so that would never happen again. She stayed with us over many months and returned often as a guest. She helped us by selling her book at the fair every summer.

She was the most faithful of human beings you could ever ask for. When I would inquire about her faith, she kept telling me, ‘Oh yes, I want to be Catholic, but not yet.’ I would ask her, “What do you mean, not yet?” She said, ‘I like being Catholic when I’m here, but not when I’m not here.’

“That’s not going to do God any good,” would reply. “He wants you to be Catholic all the time.”

I didn’t believe in pushing her. Four months ago, when she was hospitalized with her illness, she called me and said she wanted to be a Catholic. She made the step at that time. She had waited a long time and finally threw in her towel on March 30, 2010.

Did you know Gary Cooper?
Yes. Every time I met him he was very gracious and charming to me. He always called me Miss Dolores. The last time I met him he was very close to his death. Maria invited me to go and see him. When I saw him I asked, “Gary, how are you?” He took my hand and said, ‘No, Miss Dolores, I want to know how you are? Have you gotten any work?”

I told him where I was in my career. He was so interested. I told him I wanted to know more about him. He said, ‘I’m on my way now. I just want to know if you’re doing well. That’s the most important thing.’

That was Gary. He was always interested in the other person.

A Vatican voice for women theologians

By John L Allen Jr
National Catholic Reporter
Created Aug 27, 2010

A piece in Saturday's edition of L’Osservatore Romano on the female role in Catholic theology is fascinating -- both for its content and its venue in a semi-official Vatican organ. The author is Lucetta Scaraffia, who has in effect emerged as L’Osservatore’s in-house feminist.

It’s generally a mistake to think that pieces that appear in L’Osservatore necessarily represent what “the Vatican” thinks. It’s more accurate to say they represent what some in the Vatican may be thinking, but there’s rarely any direct cause-and-effect relationship between a piece in L’Osservatore and an eventual policy choice in the Holy See.

That said, Scaraffia has been producing fascinating pieces for the Vatican newspaper. Back in March she opined that greater participation of women in decision-making in the church would have “ripped the veil of masculine secrecy” that covered the sexual abuse of children by clergy. More recently, she asserted that post-Vatican II acceptance of altar girls means “the end of any attribution of impurity” to the female sex.

This time, Scaraffia asserts in a front-page essay that women too often are consigned to “subordinate roles” in the church, citing a recent study of ecclesiastical schools in Italy which found that women represent “just over ten percent of all theology professors, with very few teaching strictly theological disciplines.”

“Women are basically excluded from important sectors of theological research, such as liturgy and pastoral theology,” Scaraffia writes, “while they are attaining a bit of space in theological anthropology and spiritual theology.”

What Scaraffia is describing, of course, is the situation in pontifical institutions in Rome such as the Salesianum and the Lateran, and other ecclesiastical institutions in Italy. The extent to which it applies to theology faculties in other parts of the world, including the United States, varies from place to place.

Scaraffia blames two forces for the limited presence of women in core theological disciplines, at least in Italian ecclesiastical institutions.

First, she says, the situation reveals “strong resistance from other faculty, the overwhelming majority of whom are ecclesiastics, to the entrance of women into disciplines which are central for Catholic culture.”

Second, she blames the first generation of women theologians, who she says identified so strongly with minorities and with themes of radical feminism that they shut themselves out of mainstream ecclesiastical conversation.

“Wanting to give a voice, sometimes a-critically, to all the ‘marginalized,’ feminist theologians sometimes ended up marginalizing themselves,” Scaraffia asserts.

Nontheless, Scaraffia writes, both women theologians and other female voices in the Church, such as women writers and editors of Catholic publications, have achieved a great deal and deserve to play a greater role.

“The next step that women must take, and that men must embrace,” Scaraffia concludes, “is true access to the culture. That is, to exit from the space of exclusively feminine themes and to carry their point of view in the worlds which women have so far not penetrated very much, such as the theology faculties.”

Scaraffia, 62, teaches at Rome’s La Sapienza University and writes for a number of Italian papers, but she’s best known in Catholic circles as a contributor to L’Osservatore Romano.

THE HILL OF TAIZÉ

A Reflection on 70 Years of Ecumenism

ROME, AUG. 29, 2010 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of a reflection made by Giovanni Maria Vian, the editor of L'Osservatore Romano, for the 70th anniversary of Brother Roger Schutz's arrival on the hill of Taizé in France.

Brother Roger started the ecumenical Taizé community, and was killed five years ago at age 90.

* * *

It was Aug. 20, 1940, 70 years ago, when Roger Schutz arrived for the first time in Taizé. In that summer of war in a France subjected to the invader, the Swiss Calvinist pastor certainly could not imagine that in a not too distant future -- already during the decade of the 50s -- other European young people, many and later very many more, would climb that hill in the heart of Burgundy, in an undulating and gentle rural region on whose horizon often great clouds are seen. In the beginning they arrived spontaneously, as he, perhaps, in autostop; later from all the continent in organized groups, especially during the summer or at Easter.

In the liturgical calendar, Aug. 20 is the feast of St. Bernard, who lived in Citeaux, not far from Taizé, which in turn is just a few kilometers from Cluny: under the sign of monastic reforms that have marked the history of the Church. And already in 1940 the young Schutz began to take in refugees and Jews, thinking of a plan of common life with some friends, which he began two years later in Geneva because of the impossibility of staying in France.

He returned to Taizé during the war, and he renewed his hospitality, this time to German prisoners and orphan children. Whoever arrives today finds a small bungalow, just beyond the old houses and the small Romanesque church, surrounded by a minuscule cemetery, and a welcome that embodies the ancient hospitality in the name of Christ inscribed in the Rule of St. Benedict.

In fact, the monastic vocation had always attracted Roger and his companions, all of Protestant origin, but sensitive to the wealth of the different Christian currents; they committed themselves already in 1949 to a form of common life in the vein of Benedictine and Ignatian spirituality, delineated some years later in the Rule of Taizé. That same year Brother Roger was received [in audience] by Pius XII together with one of his first companions, Max Thurian, and since 1958 his meetings with the Popes -- John XXIII, Paul VI and John Paul II, who was on the hill in 1986 -- became an annual custom, expressing a closeness that led, from the end of the decade of the 60s, to the entrance in the community of a growing number of Catholics. And Brother Roger, already several years before his murder at the hands of an unstable woman on Aug. 16, 2005, designated a young German Catholic, Alois Loser, as his successor in the leadership of the community.

In 1962 the prior, with some brothers, began in the most absolute secret, a series of visits to some countries of Eastern Europe, while in August a modern Church of Reconciliation was inaugurated in Taizé. A very large space -- but which soon had to be enlarged, in the beginning with tents, to accommodate the thousands of persons who arrived in the weeks of summer -- planned for prayer three times a day in several languages. With the long moments of silence and meditative songs now very widespread, these three daily meetings were what profoundly impressed those who arrived for the first time on the hill.

For the opening of a "council of young people" in August of 1974, more than 40,000 arrived in Taizé from the whole of Europe, housed in a camp of tents, in a precariousness aggravated by torrential rain. Passing imperturbable among them was Cardinal Johannes Willebrands, sent by Paul VI, speaking amiably to young people little more than 20 years old who approached him, stained with mud and tired, but impressed by the community's ecumenical wager. To them, for decades, in the line of the great Christian tradition, Brother Roger addressed a brief meditation every afternoon and, after the prayer, he paused to meet with and hear those who wished to speak with him or approach him.

This was in the years of youthful rebellion and the estrangement of many from the faith, the revolution of Taizé. Struggle and contemplation the prior decided to title the newspaper of those years, while the community began a "pilgrimage of trust" in the various continents. Seeking reconciliation and sharing the poverties of the world, reviving the virtually extinguished faith in numerous contexts of Central Europe, sustaining its little flame in countries suffocated by Communism, accustoming many young Catholics to an ever greater openness.

Taizé never wished to be a movement, but it always stimulated people to be involved in parishes and in local realities: practicing hospitality, encouraging the peacemakers of the evangelical beatitude, working for the union between Churches and communities of believers in Christ, showing vitality and efficacy in an ecumenical spiritual journey. That one be able to reconcile in oneself -- Brother Roger, notre frere, had learned it as a youth and witnessed to it during his whole life, authentic pioneer of an "ecumenism of holiness," as Cardinal Bertone wrote in the name of Benedict XVI -- the riches of the different Christian confessions: the attention to the Bible stressed in Protestantism, the splendor of Orthodox liturgy, the centrality of the Catholic Eucharist, before which always shines in Taizé a little light that signifies adoration of the One Lord.

Oberammergau Passion Play 'inter-religiously triumphant'

2010 production 'best in thirty years'

By Leonard Swidler
National Catholic Reporter
Sept. 13, 2010

I saw the Oberammergau Passion Play (first performed in 1634) for the sixth time last August – and it was superb! It was profoundly moving, stunningly professionally performed, esthetically sweeping – and inter-religiously triumphant!

I say the latter not at all lightly, for I have been working closely with the play directors, the town officials, the Archdiocese of Munich (the head of which for several years was my former colleague at the University of Tübingen Catholic Theology faculty, Pope Benedict XVI), the German Bishops’ Conference, the Anti-Defamation League of B’nai Brith (ADL), and the American Jewish Committee (AJC) – for over thirty years!

It was in 1979 Rabbi Leon Klenicki of the ADL approached me saying that in their conversations with Mayor Fink of Oberammergau they asked him whether he would welcome an analysis of the Passion Play for its depiction of Jews and Judaism by a Christian scholar of the field. He said, yes. Since I had been working in Jewish-Christian relations for 20 years already, I was asked by Klenicki if I would come to Oberammergau with a team from the ADL to meet with the decision-makers of the village, investigate the play in all its dimensions, and come up with such an analysis and recommendations to eliminate any anti-Judaic elements that might be found in it. I said yes, and persuaded my friend and colleague on the faculty of Temple University Department of Religion, Gerard Sloyan, a Catholic New Testament scholar–and Catholic priest–to join me in the analysis.

We went to the 1980 production, and talked with all concerned and then produced our report and recommendations for the next production, due on the 350th anniversary of the play, in 1984 [Oberammergau Passionspiel 1984–Das Oberammergauer Passionspiel 1984. New York: Anti -Defamation League, 1980; and later: The Passion of the Jew Jesus (Das Leiden des Juden Jesus) New York: Anti-Defamation League, 1984]. It was difficult to get any serious hearing of our concerns by the then play director for the 1980 production. However, the 1984 production was a significant improvement over its predecessors.

Thereafter a real revolution took place in the village political leadership, and also in the two new, young play directors, Christian Stückl and Otto Huber. They were sensitive to the portrayals of Jesus and the other Jews and the Romans and worked hard to eliminate remaining negative images of Jews and Judaism, and to highlight the fact that, among other things, the final days of Jesus were about Roman politics and disputes among Jews about the best way to be Jewish (Sadduccees, Pharisees, Essenes, Zealots, Hellenists, followers of Rabbi Yeshua ha Notzri [Jesus of Nazareth]) – not a struggle between Jews and Christians; there weren’t any “Christians” yet.

Huge progress was made in the 1990 production. Even so, there was still resistance from elements on the village council. However, by the time of the 2000 production Stückl had become such a famous theater director in Germany that he and Huber had almost free rein to cut out any remaining nuances of negativity in the portrayal of Jews and Judaism, and enhance even further the quality of the struggle leading to the death of Jesus being a struggle internal to Judaism rather than between Christians and Jews.

The 2010 Passion Play goes far beyond the elimination of all Jewish negative stereotypes, making it overwhelmingly clear that Jesus was caught up in a political power struggle between the Jewish leaders who held their power at the sufferance of Rome in the person of its Prefect Pontius Pilate (Philo, an older contemporary, described him as “inflexible, stubborn, of cruel disposition. He executed troublemakers without a trial,” and referred to his “venality, violence, thefts, assaults, abusive behavior, endless executions, endless savage ferocity.”). In the 2010 play Pilate, wears a soldier’s armor, arrogantly tells the High Priest Caiphas that he had better take care of the upstart Jesus – or else.

Perhaps the most amazing change in this production is the positively blatant Jewishness of Jesus and all his followers. He and his followers often pray – in Hebrew! – covering their heads with a talis and holding the Torah scroll up high. At one point the crowd of hundreds on stage with Jesus in the lead all sing the central prayer of Judaism in Hebrew, the Shema Israel, “Hear oh Israel, Yahweh your God is one!”

All of the characters come across as humanly believable, not cardboard cutouts. This is true especially of Judas, who like Peter denied his leader, but unlike him fell into despair rather than hope (he was the only player to receive a spontaneous applause at the end of his major soliloquy). But most of all the human believableness of Jesus stands out. One person in the audience said to me afterward, “This is a Jesus who is believable for modern persons!” Jesus clearly loved the people around him, touching and embracing them, including women. His scene of near despair in Gethsemane was heart wrenching.

The frequent use of a huge chorus (much like a Greek chorus), draining meaning out of the Hebrew biblical tableaux and pouring it into the following scene was managed exquisitely. And the music – either Mozart-like from the early 19th century Rochus Dedler or newly composed by Markus Zwink – was stunningly perfect in matching the action on stage.

All together, the 2010 Oberammergau Passion Play is as positive an esthetic/spiritual experience as possible for Christians of the suffering and death of their Founder as a Jewish Rabbi who had both supporters and opponents among his fellow Jews, and finally was murdered by the Romans in typical Roman execution manner – crucifixion.

[Leonard Swidler is professor of Catholic Thought & Interreligious Dialogue in the Department of Religion at Temple University. Performances of the 2010 Oberammergau Passion Play will be staged until Oct. 3.]

Two weeks' worth of hope

By John L Allen Jr
National Catholic Reporter
Oct 01, 2010

When I'm on the lecture circuit, one of the most common questions I get is this: "Where do you see hope in the church?" Implicit, of course, is the assumption that hope is hard to find. (Usually, also implicit is that by "church" the questioner actually means "hierarchy," but that's another conversation.)

The premise is understandable, because the case for despair is often depressingly easy to make. Yet I also can't help feeling that one has to be almost deliberately blind not to see signs of hope everywhere, if you but look around.

The last two weeks have cemented that impression. Over that span, I was in the U.K. to cover the papal trip, and then on the road for a speaking gig at the University of Portland in Oregon, which is sponsored by the Congregation of the Holy Cross; in Minnesota, leading a retreat for the Board of Overseers of St. John's School of Theology/Seminary; and in Toronto, delivering the Kelly Lecture at the University of St. Michael's College, in partnership with the Catholic media network "Salt and Light."

That's probably as close to a random sampling of Catholic life in the English-speaking world as it's possible to come in one two-week span -- and it was almost impossible to dip in and out of those milieus without feeling basically optimistic about Catholic fortunes.

Benedict XVI's Sept. 16-19 trip to Scotland and England was stirring, and not merely because it was one of those rare instances in which what the pope pitched was more or less what people actually caught. (In this case, the pitch was a forceful argument about the role of religion in public life.) The trip also gave scores of ordinary Catholics the chance to talk about their faith before a national audience, and it showcased one of the more imaginative recent efforts to address the church's communications problem: "Catholic Voices," a project founded by a couple of prominent laity, completely independently of the bishops' conference, whose mission was to prepare twenty- and thirty-something Catholics to tackle hot-button issues in a media setting and to explain what Catholicism means to them. I caught several of them doing their thing on the BBC, Sky News, and other outlets during the four-day trip, and they dazzled.

While I was at the University of Portland, I joined the local Holy Cross community for a simple but moving evening liturgy in which one of their brothers was anointed for an upcoming operation, with several family members alongside. Some 30 Holy Cross priests and brothers live on campus, most of them working or teaching at the university. In an era when a student can spend four years on some Catholic colleges and almost never see someone in a Roman collar, that's a remarkable commitment of personnel, and it's reflected in a palpable Catholic ethos on campus.

My appearance was sponsored by the Garaventa Center for Catholic Intellectual Life and American Culture, launched in 2004 to explore the intersection between faith and American public life and to stimulate reflection on what it means to be a Catholic institution. It's one of countless examples across the country of a new intentionality about Catholic identity in higher education, an acknowledgement that it can't simply be taken for granted.

In Minnesota, I found myself among a mix of talented and articulate Catholics from a variety of walks of life -- business, law, politics, the academy -- all of whom seemed hungry to contribute to St. John's School of Theology/Seminary and the Benedictine legacy it carries. We had a day-long conversation about the trends shaping Catholicism I outlined in my book The Future Church, and how they might inform the choices the School of Theology makes about how to deploy its resources.

China was a particular point of emphasis, given that St. John's already has links there. So was the possibility of drawing on the spirit of moderation and hospitality in Benedictine spirituality to foster space for conversation, as an antidote to polarization and tribalism in the church.

In Toronto, I spoke at the University of St. Michael's College before a standing room only crowd of more than 500 people, including Catholics from the left, right and center, all of whom seemed hungry to have a rational conversation, as well as to share a laugh or two and to enjoy one another's company. It was a great reminder that, beyond theological controversy and political debate, Catholicism at a human level is also a hell of a lot of fun.

The next morning I spoke to a gathering of local Catholic businesspeople convened by Toronto's Archbishop Thomas Collins, and I was struck by how keenly interested these high achievers seemed in what's happening in the church and how they might be able to help, if only someone asks.

(By the way, let me make my bones as a church insider: Before my lecture Tuesday night I had dinner with a small group that included the archbishop, and I can report that when having a cocktail, he honest to God orders a "Tom Collins.")

I spent much of Wednesday at the Toronto headquarters of Salt and Light, taping segments for what felt like every program in their entire fall line-up. One impressive thing about Salt and Light is that they don't play just to one side of the street, or to one constituency. They strive to speak to and about the whole church, including all of its various tribes and slices of life. In an age in which media outlets usually make their bread and butter by reinforcing ideological biases, Salt and Light still believes in common ground.

I'll concede that maybe these venues aren't fully representative of the whole Catholic scene, and perhaps I'm overly inclined to what a friend calls a "hermeneutic of charity," meaning trying to see everything in a positive light. For sure, a string of feel-good experiences can't magically dissolve the very real problems facing the church, both those welling up from within and those crashing in from the outside.

Still, on the heels of the last two weeks, I would say just one thing to any Catholic who thinks hope is hard to find: You need to get out more often.

From Darkness Into God’s Marvelous Light

Former College Partygoer Finds Happiness as SOLT Sister

BY TRENT BEATTIE
National Catholic Register
10/20/2010

SEATTLE — Church was the last thing on Sharon Heidland’s mind when she entered college in the fall of 1994. Having received a full volleyball scholarship to the University of Nevada-Reno, she was living 800 miles away from home and pursuing her own path toward what she thought would bring happiness.

“My goal entering college was to succeed at sports and build skills for a successful
career,” she explained. “I wanted to be either a businesswoman or a journalist. Above all, I wanted to do something great with my life, something extraordinary. I thought ultimate happiness would be wealth, prestige, glamour and power.”

With her parents no longer telling her what to do, Sharon stopped attending Mass, never went to confession, and was certainly not going to be found at any prayer meetings. Instead, worldly pursuits consumed her time. In addition to her scholarship, she had a boyfriend on the football team and a schedule full of parties. She was free to do as she pleased, which was supposed to bring her happiness.

Yet instead of being filled with happiness, she was empty. “After getting a taste of having everything the world says you should have to be happy, but finding my heart utterly empty, I began to deeply yearn for something more. The partying, boyfriends, school and sports didn’t fill me. When I was truly honest with myself, I had to admit that I was shattered within.”

It was the spring of her freshman year in college when she had this awakening. “I realized that when I died, God wasn’t going to ask me if my mom and dad went to church on Sunday. He would ask me, ‘What did you do with your life?’” This sobering thought led her on a slow journey back into the Church.

During this journey, Sharon met a priest from the Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity (SOLT). “As my heart began to awaken and my desires for something more began to grow, I met a priest from our religious community,” she related. “I was suffering immensely from the weight of sin and bad decisions and this priest knew that, but he never shamed me. He inspired me to grow by the example of his life — a life of true and authentic love of God.”

During her final three years of college, she started attending Mass sporadically, then every Sunday, and finally came to do so daily. “When I was a senior in college, my mother made a decision to entrust me and my life to the Blessed Virgin,” she said. “My mom literally got down on her knees and gave me away to Our Lady: She told Our Lady that I was her daughter now and to protect me and keep me safe.

“My mother also began to pray at that moment, completely unknown to me, that I would become a nun — and here I am. So yes, the prayers of my mother and father are the reason why I am a nun today. I believe in the power of prayer and am a living fruit of its efficacy.”


Special Names

After graduating with a degree in communications, Sharon was invited to a SOLT retreat in New Mexico, where she discovered her call to the religious life. “I desired a life committed to Christ: daily Mass, daily Rosary, Liturgy of the Hours, daily Holy Hour, faithful to the magisterium of the Church etc. And I found that with SOLT.”

What she also found with SOLT was a unique model of “family teams” (also referred to as “ecclesial teams”) of priests, sisters and laity. “We have all three vocations in our community, and I love the witness of that reality. I also chose SOLT because I recognized that this community is committed to authentic discipleship of Jesus through Mary.”

Sharon became Sister Miriam James. “My father passed away unexpectedly while I was still a novice, and on my profession day, our founder, Father James Flanagan, gave me the religious name of Miriam James — Miriam, after our Blessed Mother, and James, after my father. To hear that proclamation at my profession Mass was one of the most touching experiences of my life.”

Sister Miriam spent formation time in such diverse locations as Rome, New Mexico and North Dakota. She then made her final vows at St. Alphonsus Parish in Seattle on the feast of the Immaculate Conception in 2007. Her main work in Seattle is the direction of apostolic novices (women in their first year of novitiate). During the last six years, she has helped to guide 17 women through the formation program.
She also has the opportunity to utilize her communications skills by co-hosting the radio program “Sisters in Christ” on Sacred Heart Radio in Seattle. Episodes of this informative and engaging show can be heard at SacredHeartRadio.org on Thursdays at 6pm and on Sundays at 8am, Pacific Time.


A New Family

Aside from radio appearances and other speaking events, Sister Miriam has the daily opportunity to share the Gospel without saying a word. This is because the SOLT sisters wear a distinctive gray and white habit, which St. Alphonsus parishioner Lillian Yamamoto appreciates. “It’s great to see the SOLT sisters in their habits; they’re so joyful and are an authentic witness to God,” she stated. “It’s a great example for the children who haven’t ever seen nuns in habits.”

“Wearing a habit is a deep honor for me,” Sister Miriam said. “When I wear a habit, I become a visible representative of the Catholic Church and a sign that God is alive and well. The habit is a sign to the world and a sign to me as well.”

It’s a sign that most people appreciate, but not all.

“Many people stop me on the street and ask questions, express gratitude or even become disgruntled when they see me. It’s a sign that goes far beyond me personally, and I have to remember that. Wearing a habit is a witness of the love and mercy of God and it brings hope and comfort to many.”

The visible presence of the sisters is appreciated by the administrator of St. Alphonsus, SOLT Father Danilo Abalon. “The family of the Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity is a congregation of priests, sisters, and laity, including married deacons,” explained Father Abalon. “All the members share a common spirituality, mission and vision, as they strive to imitate and live the life of Christ.

“Each vocation finds the source of its identity in the Most Holy Trinity, and in their distinctiveness, they complement one another in the charism of ‘ecclesial teams’ modeled after the life of Mary. So, in any apostolate or parish ministry, if one of the components is not present, like the sisters, the witness of our charism would be incomplete.”

Charisms weren’t on the mind of college student Sharon Heidland, who sought worldly definitions of happiness, yet only found sadness. Today, however, Sister Miriam James is dedicated to poverty, chastity and obedience; and she is among the happiest of women. She says, “My goal now is to bring the message of Jesus’ authentic love and mercy to everyone I meet. Jesus came to set us free from sin and darkness so that we might walk in his marvelous light.”

Remember the visit of Benedict to Manoppello, Italy to see the cloth with the image known as the Holy Face? Now Paul Badde, a well known German journalist well acquainted with the Pope when he was still a cardinal, has written a book about the mysterious Holy Face. Here is a description of the book and a link to a video about it.

www.ignatius.com/promotions/faceofgod/



THE FACE OF GOD: THE REDISCOVERY OF THE TRUE FACE OF JESUS

In The Face of God: The Rediscovery of the True Face of Jesus, Paul Badde reports in tantalizing detail on his exciting quest to discover the truth behind a rare cloth, housed in small church in the remote village of Manoppello, Italy. Better known as the Holy Face of Manoppello, this is a relic recently rediscovered and rumored to be "Veronica's Veil" — a cloth used to wipe the face of Jesus as he carried his cross on the way to Golgotha and His crucifixion.

Badde's research and reports on the Holy Face of Manoppello prompted a 2006 visit to the relic by Pope Benedict XVI — in spite of counsel against it by others in the Vatican. He compiles and expands on those dispatches in The Face of God.

Among others, readers will meet Sister Blandina Paschalis Schlömer, OSCO, whom many outside of Italy recognize as the first person to truly rediscover the Holy Face of Manoppello. Her meticulous research and investigations helped convince Badde and others that the Holy Face provides a "positive" image of the same face shown as a "negative" on the Shroud of Turin.

The image of a man's face on the cloth in Manoppello is clearly visible. Most astonishing — when the face of the Shroud of Turin is laid over the Holy Face of Manoppello, the two images form a perfect match. As Sr. Blandina proved with her work, they are the same face.

Readers will learn about a cloth made of unique and rare fabric — byssus — that is the "canvas" for the Holy Face. Yet, Badde explains that byssus, also is known as sea silk, is a rare and delicate fabric woven from a silky filament produced by mollusks that is so thin and delicate it is impossible to paint on.

In the book, Badde reports the conclusion by experts that the cloth of Manoppello is not Veronica's veil, but rather a burial cloth of Jewish tradition that was laid over the face of Jesus in the tomb. In fact, in the chapter he calls "Holy Blood," Badde makes the compelling case for the existence — with locations — of all the elements of the traditional Jewish burial wrap used in Jesus' time.

The book recounts Badde's thrilling journey of discovery as he travels to research this remarkable relic, tracing the turbulent history of the Holy Face from ancient times to the historic visit to Manoppello by Pope Benedict XVI.

If you want to view video of the Guadalupana celebrations, go to Whispers in the Loggia whispersintheloggia.blogspot.com/

Anybody sang "Las Mananitas"? Our parish celebrated the fiesta on Dec 11 as a Vigil since the liturgy of Sunday suppresses the fiesta on The Day. But I bet that didn't stop the Hispanic parishes around the world from celebrating ...

For These Young Nuns, Habits Are The New Radical

by BARBARA BRADLEY HAGERTY
National Public Radio
December 22, 2010

For the most part, these are grim days for Catholic nuns. Convents are closing, nuns are aging and there are relatively few new recruits. But something startling is happening in Nashville, Tenn. The Dominican Sisters of St. Cecilia are seeing a boom in new young sisters: Twenty-seven joined this year and 90 entered over the past five years.

The average of new entrants here is 23. And overall, the average age of the Nashville Dominicans is 36 — four decades younger than the average nun nationwide.

Unlike many older sisters in previous generations, who wear street clothes and live alone, the Nashville Dominicans wear traditional habits and adhere to a strict life of prayer, teaching and silence.

They enter the chapel without saying a word, the swish of their long white habits the only sound. It is 5:30 in the morning, pitch black outside — but inside, the chapel is candescent as more than 150 women kneel and pray and fill the soaring sanctuary with their ghostly songs of praise.

A few elderly sisters sit in wheelchairs, but most of these sisters have unlined faces and are bursting with energy. Watching them, you wonder what would coax these young women to a strict life of prayer, teaching, study and silence.

And did they always want to be nuns?

"No," says Sister Beatrice Clark, laughing. "I didn't know they still existed."

Clark, who is 27, says she became aware of the religious life when she was a student at Catholic University in Washington. In her junior year, she began feeling that God was drawing her to enter a convent. Over Thanksgiving vacation in 2004, she broke the news to her family.

"My parents just sat there and looked at me," she says. "And they cried. And I said, 'I think I'm supposed to enter soon.' And my father said, 'This is the time of life to take leaps.' "

She joined the Nashville Dominicans on her 22nd birthday.

Silence — Sometimes

The sisters eat breakfast in silence, sitting side by side at long tables, served by the novices in white habits and veils. Sister Joan of Arc, who's 27, stoops to pour coffee. At 6 feet, 2 inches, the former basketball player for the University of Notre Dame is hard to miss. Sister Joan of Arc, who was born Kelsey Wicks, like the others here adopted a new name when she entered.

She says she worked on refugee issues after college, then received a scholarship to Notre Dame Law School. But her plans shifted when she went on a medical mission trip: In Africa she saw abject physical poverty, but it was nothing compared with the impoverishment she saw when she came home.

"When I came back to the U.S., I saw our true poverty of the heart and of the mind. And I saw the loneliness," she says. "It really made me give my life to the church, so I was more open to the advances of God when he asked, 'Lay down your life!' "

Her parents did not share her certainty.

"I remember my mother sent me Notre Dame Law School bumper stickers when I was deciding, because she did not want me to pass up that opportunity," she says with a laugh.

Sister Joan of Arc forsook law — but not basketball, entirely. Now in her second year, she regularly drills her sisters on the court behind the convent. They dribble and shoot in their long habits — the first-year postulates in black, the second-year novices in white. And when they break into the three teams — Our Lady of Victory, Cecilia and the Martyrs — they scream and chant with a fierce competitiveness that is not all that, well, sisterly.

Lady of Victory wins, followed by Cecilia ... trailed by the Martyrs.

"Sadly, the Martyrs always have a rough go of things," observes Sister Joan of Arc, as the Martyrs shout, "Our victory is in heaven!"

Friendships Beyond Facebook

"You can't even imagine how much fun we have," says Sister Victoria Marie Liederbach, who is 23. "We really do become sisters; we're each others' best friends, and we just have a blast."

I'm sitting with a half-dozen novices, who range in age from 23 to 27. They all have college degrees. There's a nurse, a would-be archivist, but like Sister Paula Marie Koffi, they all felt torn by their ambitions.

"Yeah, I was working as an accountant, and I remember telling one of the managers one day, 'I'll either be a partner in this firm, or a nun,' " she recalls, laughing.

It's a mysterious call to what they describe as a love relationship with Jesus. And for them it is literal: They consider the white habit a wedding gown.

"It's beautiful, and it's a reminder that you are a spouse of Christ," says Sister Mara Rose McDonnell. But it's more than that.

"It tells others that there's a reality beyond this world. There's heaven. We're all orienting ourselves towards heaven," she says.

To the world, the habit is the most visible symbol of their commitment — one they all acknowledge exacts a price.

"Yeah, like motherhood and children, that's the desire of a woman's heart," says Liederbach. "And being desired, and pursued by a man, that's something for sure that's a real sacrifice."

But Sister Anna Joseph Van Acker says she's weary of shallow relationships rooted in texting and Twitter — and finds the depth she's looking for in God. "He has the love you don't find by someone leaving a message on your Facebook wall," she says. "It's way better than someone saying, 'I'm eating pizza for dinner right now,' or whatever your Facebook status says right now. You don't get fulfilled by that. Ultimately, all you want is more. And here, we're thirsting for more, but we're constantly receiving more as well."

Van Acker, who's 23, says her generation is hungry for absolute truth and tradition — ideals they found in the messages of Pope John Paul II.

"Our generation is thirsting for orthodoxy," she says. "And I know it because I've seen it in university settings. I've seen how young people ... love JP2 not only because he was a nice-looking old man and he gave great hugs or something — but because what he spoke and wrote was the truth and it spoke to their hearts."

Inspiring Others

This is the Pope John Paul generation, coming of age. Of course, that may explain why they chose to enter a convent — but why this convent? Most visited several orders, and the novices nod as Sister Joan of Arc says the minute she met the Nashville Dominicans, she felt as if she had come home.

"I was blown away — seeing them in their habits, seeing their joyful witness, listening to them sing. Oh! It was captivating, it was so captivating," she says.

Of course, not everyone is cut out for this life, and a few drop out in the first two years.

"The day-to-day is hard," says Clark, who is in her fifth year. "The day-to-day can be mundane in little stuff. But in the large choices, this is the most freeing thing I could have chosen, because everything else would have been trying to find this — this defining relationship that would give value to everything."

Including her work teaching sophomores at St. Cecilia Academy, where Clark is, on this fall day, grilling her students on The Scarlet Letter. Clark, who had planned to become a litigator, handles discussion like a cross examination, peppering the girls with questions and the girls firing their answers right back.

Catholic bishops beg the Nashville Dominicans to send their young sisters to their parochial schools, and more than 100 of them now teach in 34 schools in 13 states. The sisters are a big hit with the students as well because they don't fit the stereotype.

"You hear stories from your parents about getting spanked with rulers and stuff, and that's not true at all," says Breanne Lampert, one of Clark's sophomores. "But seeing the sisters here compared to other schools — they're so much younger. I don't know, they understand you really well."

"The young sisters are really inspiring," says Brady Diaz-Barriga, "because you're like, 'Oh, I could never do that. I just love Facebook and my cell phone and my computer too much to give that up!' But you see how much joy your life can be with less and not having all of that."

Isabelle Aparicio says the young sisters' lives have a surprising appeal. "Seeing these young women make these really hard decisions and then seeing so many of them make it, it's kind of inspiring," she says. "And it's actually made me think about it, possibly."

But what about doubt? I ask Clark, "Do you think you'll have any regrets?" She pauses, then shakes her head slowly.

"I met the person for me," she says. "I've been known by him forever. And I've known him more or less throughout my life. And now I know that this is where I'm called to."

Clark, like the nearly 300 other Nashville Dominicans, is called to the unbending rhythms of prayer and silence and worship. With their long habits and disciplined regime, these conservative sisters are, it seems, the new radical.

'WE ARE A CHURCH ON FIRE': Eucharistic Adoration transforms Acushnet parish

By LINDA ANDRADE RODRIGUES
SouthCoast.com
February 19, 2011 12:00 AM

ACUSHNET — A little church in a small town, St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church was facing tough times. The congregation was dwindling, and Mass attendance was at an all-time low. The empty confessional was collecting dust, and donations were dismal.

But then the unthinkable happened.

Today, St. Francis Xavier is one of the most vibrant parishes in the diocese with standing-room only Masses, confessional lines, a busload of parishioners participating in the March for Life, and an abundance of freewill donations that will make them debt-free by April.

"Jesus is on the property," said Mary Cardoza, the spark that inflamed the parish. "We are a church on fire."


'I was always a zombie catholic'

Brought up in a Catholic family, Mary Cardoza attended Catholic schools.

"I had one foot in the world and one foot in the Church," she said.

But although she fulfilled her Sunday obligation, she never participated in church activities and often rebelled against the laws of the Church.

"I was always a zombie Catholic," she said laughing.

When she turned 40, she decided it was time to cultivate a relationship with God.

"You only go to Him when you are in trouble," she said.

She began meeting with a group for moms after church, who began teaching her about the faith.

It was on a group pilgrimage to the Divine Mercy Chapel in Stockbridge, where she had a life-changing experience. A message board of activities listed "Eucharistic Adoration".

"What's Adoration?" she asked the group. "Jesus is really in the Eucharist," they answered. "But what do you do?" she asked. "You talk to Him," they said. "Okay, so I go in there, kneel down and something happens — a spiritual experience. I'm on fire for an hour,' she said." I knew without a doubt Jesus was in the Eucharist. He was real. We were connected."

Back at home, she had no idea what to do with her newfound faith.

After Sunday Mass, her pastor, the Rev. Daniel Lacroix, asked her to attend a Stewardship Committee meeting.

"So I go to this meeting, and it is the most depressing meeting I've ever been to," she said. "They start telling me all the stuff that is wrong — church attendance and collections were down; no one was going to Confession; not many people were attending church activities. I go home and cry."

But then, she said her prayers were answered with the solution to all that ailed her parish.

"I go back to Father Dan and tell him I have the answer — Adoration," she said.

Lacroix offered her the use of a little room in the church basement, an exit hall to the elevator, but he had no funds to spare.

Shortly after, Cardoza received a phone call from a neighbor who had a package for her. It contained step-by-step instructions on how to start Adoration in your church.

"Her uncle had mailed it to her 10 years prior," said Cardoza. "She had kept it until she found out about me."

The next problem was that they needed kneelers, which cost about $500 each.

She received a call from another friend, who had started up a conversation with a woman wearing a Divine Mercy pin at Dunkin Donuts. When her friend mentioned that her church needed kneelers, the lady gave her a number to call.

"I called the number, and the Franciscans Sisters of the Immaculate in Fairhaven told me to pick up four kneelers that night," Cardoza said.

Now, all they needed were adorers.

Cardoza spoke to the parishioners at all the Masses that weekend. She needed adorers to serve one-hour increments from Friday at 9:30 a.m. through Saturday at 3 p.m.

"Personally, I think Adoration is the best kept secret," she told them. "I give Him all my problems; He gives me answers. I give Him all my fears; He gives me peace beyond any human understanding. I give Him my tears; He gives me joy. If you're looking for a place to refuel with God's graces to get through another hectic week, then Adoration is the place to be."

Fifty people signed up.

In 2008, Lacroix was assigned to a parish on Cape Cod, and the Rev. Monsignor Gerard P. O'Connor became pastor of St. Francis Xavier's.

"Monsignor looked at me and said, 'Adoration in an exit hall? Put Jesus in the church,'" recalled Cardoza. "He loves Jesus with his whole heart and soul, and he loves his people. He puts Eucharist first and makes it the center, which brought the people back. As soon as he put Jesus in the church, Adoration exploded."


'I'm sorry that I don't really love you'

Parishioner Susan Charbonneau knew something was missing in her life. She had been divorced for 10 years and was often distracted when she prayed at home.

Her friend asked her to cover her Friday Adoration hour at 5 p.m.

Charbonneau's first prayer before the Blessed Sacrament was "I don't love you. I'm sorry that I don't really love you."

Growing up in a strict Portuguese Catholic family, Charbonneau attended Mass every Sunday, observed all the religious holidays, and the family prayed the rosary together every night.

"I was dragged to Confession regularly, but I never had a personal relationship with Jesus," she said. "I knew of Him, I knew about Him, but I didn't know Him. I didn't love Him because you can't love someone you don't know."

Sitting in the last pew in the church, she said she was bored out of her mind and spent most of the time looking at her watch.

Her second visit to Adoration was a few weeks later, and it was much the same.

"I didn't pray," she said.

A couple of weeks later Cardoza asked her to become an adorer. Caught off guard, she reluctantly agreed.

Then came the Saturday morning at an especially low point in her life that she found herself kneeling and looking at the Blessed Sacrament. She also eventually made it to Confession, which she said was an extremely important part of her journey.

"Adoration has improved every aspect of my life, one of which is that my marriage has been restored," said Charbonneau. "I'm no longer in a state of constant worry about situations I have no control over. I don't know what the future holds, but I find great comfort in knowing the One who does."


'I felt the Holy Spirit, like a wind'

Forty years ago Stephen Watts returned from the Vietnam War and married his wife Jeannine at St. Francis Xavier Church. A non-practicing Methodist who had never been baptized, he made a promise to God that he would raise his children in the Catholic faith. Year after year, his family went to church without him.

After 21 years working for the electric company, Watts retired.

"My kids had grown up and moved out, and me and my wife were drifting apart," he said.

One Sunday he asked his wife to bring home a bulletin from church, and he noticed the RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) program. Intrigued, he signed up for classes.

"I was a sponge," he said, absorbing as much information as he could. With the guidance of Lacroix, who was pastor at the time, Watts made the decision to become a Catholic.

On the day he received all his sacraments — Baptism, First Communion and Confirmation — Watts said that he experienced a miracle.

"As I bent over the font to be baptized, I felt the Holy Spirit, like a wind, rush over my back and neck and across the water," he said. "When I looked down at the water in the font, I saw the water ripple. I not only felt but heard the Holy Spirit, who sounded like a breath in my ear."

Watts is now the captain of Tuesday Adoration.


"I do see a difference," he said of his relationship with God after spending time in Adoration. "I believe I was wavering in some of my beliefs, but now I can focus more clearly. This one hour is really not enough time. So I try and make it my best hour spent with Him."


'i was hanging on to years of compounding sins'

Parishioner Tony Pimentel had been serving as an adorer for five months, but when he sat in front of the Blessed Sacrament every week, a guilty conscience plagued him. He had not been to Confession in 26 years.

"I knew that despite basically being a good person, I was hanging on to years of compounding sins and making new ones all the time," he said.

Pimentel was raised in a Catholic family and had attended Catholic school.

"I believe in God and Jesus, and I went to Mass; but I had a superficial faith."

He said that he was frightened to go to Confession because of the judgment of the priest.

When Pimentel finally entered the confessional, he said he expected admonishment, but instead the priest began with a prayer of thanksgiving to God for bringing him back home.

Pimentel had brought a document with him that he downloaded from the Internet entitled "Steps to Making a Good Confession".

They spent 30 minutes together.

"When my Confession was over, I exhaled an exhale I had not felt for as long as I could remember," he said. "I felt as light as a feather, as though all those sins I had been holding on to for all of those years had been removed in one fell swoop. I thought I would be excommunicated from the Church. But I couldn't have been more wrong. Hadn't I been listening? I mean, Jesus' whole ministry was centered on the forgiveness of sins."

Currently, St. Francis Xavier offers 54 hours of Adoration every week. There are 70 adorers and 21 substitute adorers. The Adoration schedule is Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, 9:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m., followed by Benediction and Evening Prayer; and Friday at 9:30 a.m. through Saturday at 3 p.m. Everyone is welcome.

Pilgrims flock to Medjugorje while Vatican studies alleged apparitions

By Cindy Wooden
Catholic News Service
Feb. 28, 2011

MEDJUGORJE, Bosnia-Herzegovina (CNS) -- A Vatican-appointed commission is studying the alleged Marian apparitions at Medjugorje, but pilgrims keep arriving in the small town.

As the 30th anniversary of the alleged apparitions approaches, the town is experiencing a building boom with new hostels, restaurants and shops that cater to pilgrims.

The 11 Franciscan friars assigned to the town's convent and its sole parish -- St. James -- are assisted by visiting priests in ministering to the pilgrims and the town's 3,500 residents, who pack the church even in the winter when pilgrim buses are few and far between. A few hotels and dozens and dozens of family-run hostels offer more than 10,000 beds for pilgrims.

Individuals and members of organized groups climb the craggy Apparition Hill where six village children said they first saw Mary in June 1981. The pilgrims pray the rosary as they trudge up the hill, careful not to twist their ankles on the slices of rock jutting out of the hillside.

Most of the Medjugorje "seers" have said the apparitions have continued every day for years. Three say they still have visions each day, while the other three see Mary only once a year now. All six are now married and have children.

Ivanka Ivankovic-Elez, Mirjana Dragicevic-Soldo and Jakov Colo still live year round in Medjugorje or a nearby village; each of them was contacted in late February but declined to be interviewed.

On the second of each month, Dragicevic-Soldo says Mary shares with her a prayer for unbelievers and on the 25th of each month, Marija Pavlovic-Lunetti, who now lives with her husband and children in northern Italy, says she receives a public message from Mary.

For years the local bishop, Bishop Ratko Peric of Mostar-Duvno, has said he believes nothing supernatural is happening in Medjugorje. In an e-mail to Catholic News Service in late February, he said he would no longer comment about what is happening in Medjugorje out of respect for the Vatican commission.

While the Vatican has said dioceses should not organize official pilgrimages to Medjugorje, it has said Catholics are free to visit the town and pray there, and that the Diocese of Mostar-Duvno and the Franciscans should organize pastoral care for them.

Franciscan Father Svetozar Kraljevic, who runs pilgrim-funded social projects on the edge of town, said, "We are all a commission" -- the local Franciscans, the townspeople and the pilgrims, who by their presence continue to study the claims about Mary's appearance in Medjugorje and to judge the authenticity of the messages the young people say she gives them.

At least 1.5 million pilgrims came in the past year and their judgment is clear, he said, although the formal commission members "have been given a special responsibility" for discernment.

Offering an introductory session Feb. 25 for a pilgrim group from St. Louis, Franciscan Father Danko Perutina told them, "Everything Our Lady has been talking about here is already in our tradition -- it's nothing new -- pray, read the Bible, recite the rosary, go to Holy Mass, go to confession."

Father Perutina told the St. Louis group that official church bodies, particularly bishops' conferences, have been investigating the Medjugorje visionaries' claims for years and whatever the Vatican commission decides, "we must accept."

"There weren't as many investigations of Lourdes and Fatima," the Marian apparitions in France and Portugal respectively, "but everything must be tried by fire. Only the good things will remain," he said.

Father Perutina told the pilgrims, "Apparitions are one expression of God's acting in the world and they are helping people."

The Franciscan friar is collecting stories of priests and nuns from around the world who say their vocations are connected to Medjugorje and he said he already has more than 500 such testimonies; Father Rodger Fleming, one of the priests leading the St. Louis group, said his is one of them.

The associate pastor of St. Clement of Rome parish in St. Louis said he was making his 20th visit to Medjugorje, which he first visited with his parents and siblings.

In late February, his group was the only organized English-speaking pilgrimage in Medjugorje; there were several Italian groups, but things were pretty quiet in the little town.

Wandering around the church grounds Feb. 26 were four men in their 30s carrying plastic souvenir bags. The four friends work in Switzerland, but two are Armenian Orthodox from Turkey, one is Italian and one is Croatian.

Jakob, a 37-year-old Armenian, said, "Whether the Vatican says it's true or not really doesn't matter. What counts is what you believe inside, and I believe people need this."

The Italian, who said he has changed his name to Omar, said he agreed to join his friends on the roadtrip to Medjugorje "because I believe. It attracts me. You don't have to have more of a reason than that."

SECRET VEIL ILLUSTRATES CHRIST'S RESURRECTION

Interview With Author of "The Face of God," Paul Badde

By Genevieve Pollock

MANOPPELLO, Italy, MARCH 28, 2011 (Zenit.org).- A veil in Manoppello, kept secret for centuries and only recently reemerging, illustrates Christ's resurrection in a way that will change the world, says Paul Badde.

Badde, author of "The Face of God: The Rediscovery of the True Face of Jesus" (Ignatius Press), explained to ZENIT how this veil features "uncountable" images of the Risen Christ.

The journalist and historian, and editor for the German newspaper "Die Welt," noted that the veil also illustrates much of what Benedict XVI wrote about in his newest book, "Jesus of Nazareth Part II: Holy Week -- From the Entrance into Jerusalem to the Resurrection" (Ignatius Press).

In fact, the Pope visited the shrine at Manoppello as one of the first trips of his pontificate, reflecting his decades-long interest in the meditation on the face of God, the author noted.

In this interview with ZENIT, Badde explained some of the conclusions of his research on this veil, and why he thinks it is bound to change the world.

ZENIT: Some have referred to the Veil of Manoppello as belonging to Veronica, and having the image of Jesus' face from before the Crucifixion. Your investigation, however, led you to a different conclusion. Could you clarify what this veil is?

Badde: This veil has had many names in the last 2000 years -- maintaining only its unique character in the same time.

It is, in fact, "the napkin" or "handkerchief" (in Greek: soudarion), to which St. John the Evangelist is referring in his report of the discovery of the empty tomb by St. Peter and himself, that they saw "apart" from the cloths (including the shroud of Joseph from Arimathea) in which Jesus had been buried.

This napkin, St. John says, had originally been laying upon the Face of Jesus.

This veil had to be kept completely secret right away -- together with the Shroud of Turin -- in the first community of the Apostles in Jerusalem due to the ritual impurity in Judaism of everything stemming from a grave. And it remained secret for many centuries.

This explains why it had been bearing many different names in the course of history after it appeared in public some hundred years later in the Anatolian town of Edessa for the first time.

Among all these different names are for instance: The Edessa Veil, The Image or Letter of King Abgar, The Camuliana Veil, The Mandylion, The Image Not Made by Man's Hand (in Greek: acheiropoieton), The Fourfolded Veil (in Greek: tetradiplon) or -- today -- The Holy Face (Il Volto Santo). The "Veil of Veronica" is just another name of all those that meant altogether this very veil in Manoppello.

The famous Veronica herself, though, who allegedly had wiped Jesus' Face on his way to Calvary, does not appear in the Gospels. It is not earlier than the Middle Ages, around the 12th century, that she became mentioned for the first time in pious tales and traditions.

Her name contains, however, one of the real and true names of this veil, in a Latin and Greek mixture: Vera Ikon. This is: True Icon.

ZENIT: Why do you think Benedict XVI chose to visit the shrine at Manoppello as one of the first trips of his pontificate?

Badde: He chose to travel there immediately after he had read my book, of which I had sent my very first copy to him on October 1, 2005.

This book triggered his decision to go there as soon as it became possible after his election -- notwithstanding the fact, of course, that he had been meditating on the face of God for decades already.

A complete book could and should be published of all the occasions and sentences in which he reflected and meditated on Jesus' Face as the true face of God that he sees -- together with Dante -- in the center of paradise and the universe.

Everything I wrote in my book fit perfectly into this conviction -- with exciting news of the survival and rediscovery of the True Image in a remote little town in the Abruzzi Mountains.

ZENIT: When Benedict XVI visited Manoppello he encouraged the contemplation of the Holy Face of Jesus as a way of meditating on the mystery of divine love. Could you describe some of the characteristics of the face on the veil that contribute to this meditation?

Badde: Everything of the Holy Face is most precious and as inexplicable as any good and true miracle.

The fabric (Byssos -- fabric made from mussel silk), for instance, is the most precious fabric you can imagine -- and it is absolutely a fabric that cannot be painted on.

It shows a beautiful portrait of Jesus -- but with no traces of colors or blood.

It seems to be painted with light somehow and is therefore changing from every angle, in every different light, in different seasons, daytimes, etc.

It is in fact not one image of Jesus therefore -- it is an uncountable number of images of the Risen Christ.

When laid upon the face of the Shroud of Turin they both form a perfect match -- of one living face upon a dead face of the very same person: Jesus Christ.

All these qualifications seem to be only technical details. Though, in regard to the deep impression one has when he stands in front of this living image for the first time, one feels an ocean of mercy and compassion from the image in Manoppello.

ZENIT: How can the contemplation of the face on this veil help people to deepen in the meditation of the passion, death and resurrection of Our Lord, especially during Lent and Easter?

Badde: The veil shows, in one single look, not everything, but a great deal of what Pope Benedict XVI says in "Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week -- From the Entrance into Jerusalem to the Resurrection," his recent, beautiful and wise book about the resurrection of Christ.

It adds something else though, which is to dawn upon the Christianity in our days fully for the first time in history. And this couldn't be better expressed, I think, than by a letter I received the other day by a certain Mother Columba from a French monastery, who is an Orthodox nun and an icon-painter.

"Each one of us who read 'The Face of God' was profoundly affected," she writes.

She continued: "Through this lively, simple and unaffected account, something gripped us that was far beyond and above the book itself, I would say, infinitely beyond. And I am convinced it is because the face of him who is both natural and above-nature is hiding behind the lines, shining through.

"This undeniable effect on each one of us who read the book is enough in itself to convince me of the authenticity of the image of Manoppello. God has left an image of his Face on earth!

"As Orthodox we are very much centered on Christian personalism: The mystery of the person, of which the face is the manifestation 'par excellence.' He who is at the center of all, the Alpha and the Omega, and in whose Face, as Dante said, our own faces are painted (or written) -- it is only when we shall fully behold the Face of him whose name is I Am that we, too, shall be able to say, now, in him, I am."

ZENIT: What is the significance of the rediscovery of this veil with its image at this moment in history?

Badde: This answer is one that only God fully knows.

What I know, however, is this: It is going to change the face of the world as soon as Christianity realizes fully that God has indeed left not only the testimony of a good number of reliable witnesses (in the Gospels for instance) but also a material image of himself on earth.

It will change the world sooner rather than later -- at least in a way that the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe has changed the map and history in Mexico after she had appeared and left her image there on December 12, 1531.

This image of her Son, however, has reappeared at the brink of the digital revolution -- and at the brink of the "Iconic turn."

I believe we are going to see a dramatic shift in the way we communicate -- a world where communication will be more visual rather than intellectual.

It is in these very days that we come to realize for the first time what Mother Columba said in her letter from France: "God has left an image of his Face on earth!"

I don't know why I've never shared any of Fr Ron's columns with the Forum but I'll be better about it. I was fortunate to have him as my teacher at grad school, Seattle University in the '80's. He was fresh out of Rome and so energetic and lots of fun .... enchoy!


FOLLOWING JESUS - ACCORDING TO THE LETTER OR THE SPIRIT?

2011-02-27

I work and move within church circles and find that most of the people I meet there are honest, committed, and for the most part radiate their faith positively. Most church-goers aren't hypocrites. What I do find disturbing within church circles though is that too many of us can be bitter, angry, mean-spirited, and judgmental, especially in terms of the very values that we hold most dear.

It was Henri Nouwen who first highlighted this, commenting with sadness that many of the really angry, bitter, and ideologically-driven people he knew he had met inside of church circles and places of ministry. Within church circles, it sometimes seems, everyone is angry about something. Moreover, within church circles, it is all too easy to rationalize our anger in the name of prophecy, as a healthy passion for truth and morals.

The logic works this way: Because I am sincerely concerned about an important moral, ecclesial, or justice issue, I can excuse a certain amount of neurosis, anger, elitism, and negative judgment, because I can rationalize that my cause, dogmatic or moral, is so important that it justifies my mean spirit: I need to be this angry and harsh because this is such an important truth!

And so we justify our anger by giving it a prophetic cloak, believing that we are warriors for God, truth, and morals when, in fact, we are mostly just struggling with our own wounds, insecurities, and fears. Hence we often look at others, even whole churches made up of sincere persons trying to live the gospel, and instead of seeing brothers and sisters struggling, like us, to follow Jesus, we see "people in error", "dangerous relativists", "new age pagans", "religious flakes", and in our more generous moments, "poor misguided souls". But never do we look at what this kind of judgment is saying about us, about our own health of soul and our own following of Jesus.

Don't get me wrong: Truth is not relative, moral issues are important, and right truth and proper morals, like kingdoms under perpetual siege, need to be defended. Not all moral judgments are created equal, neither are all churches.

But the truth of that doesn't trump everything else or give us an excuse to rationalize our anger. We must defend truth, defend those who cannot defend themselves, and be solid in the traditions of our own churches. But right truth and right morals don't necessarily make us disciples of Jesus. What does?

What makes us genuine disciples of Jesus is living inside his Spirit, the Holy Spirit, and this is not something abstract and vague. If one were searching for a single formula to determine who is Christian and who isn't, one might look at the Epistle to the Galatians, Chapter 5. In it, St. Paul tells us that we can live according to either the spirit of the flesh or the Holy Spirit.

We live according to the spirit of the flesh when we live in anger, bitterness, judgment of our neighbor, factionalism, and non-forgiveness. When these things characterize our lives we shouldn't delude ourselves and think that we are living inside of the Holy Spirit.

Conversely, we live inside of the Holy Spirit when our lives are characterized by charity, joy, peace, patience, goodness, longsuffering, constancy, faith, gentleness, and chastity. If these do not characterize our lives, we should not nurse the illusion that we are inside of God's Spirit, irrespective of our passion for truth, dogma, or justice.

This may be a cruel thing to say, and perhaps more cruel not to say, but I sometimes see more charity, joy, peace, patience, goodness, and gentleness among persons who are Unitarian, New Age, or Baha'i (and are often judged by other churches as being wishy-washy and as not standing for anything) than I see among those of us who do stand up so strongly for certain ecclesial and moral issues but are often mean-spirited and bitter inside of our convictions. Given the choice of whom I'd like as a neighbor or, more deeply, the choice of whom I want to spend eternity with, I am sometimes pretty conflicted about the choice: Who is my real faith companion? The angry zealot at war for Jesus or cause? Or the more gentle soul who is branded wishy-washy or "new age"? At the end of the day, who is the real Christian?

We need, I believe, to be more self-critical in regards to our anger, harsh judgments, mean-spirit, exclusiveness, and disdain for other ecclesial and moral paths. As T.S. Eliot once said: The last temptation that's the greatest treason is to do the right thing for the wrong reason. We may have truth and right morals on our side. But our anger and harsh judgments towards those who don't share our truth and morals may well have us standing outside the Father's house, like the older brother of the prodigal son, bitter both at God's mercy and at those who are receiving that mercy.

Man with paralysed leg walks 1,000 miles after visit to Lourdes

By ED WEST
Catholic Herald
Wednesday, 30 March 2011

A man with a paralysed left leg has completed a 1,000-mile hike to Santiago de Compostela after being cured at Lourdes, it has been reported.

Television repair man Serge François, 40, said he felt a warm glow spread down his herniated leg during a visit to Lourdes in 2002.

He said he had been praying at the grotto where Bernadette Soubirous first had visions of the Virgin Mary in 1858, and all of his suffering suddenly disappeared.

After regaining the use of his leg, Mr François walked the Camino de Santiago de Compostela (the Way of St James), the pilgrimage route spanning France and Spain.

Mr François, from La Salle-et-Chapelle-Aubry in Maine, western France, reported what happened to the International Medical Committee of Lourdes and 20 doctors have now concluded that it was indeed “remarkable”.

Archbishop Emmanuel Delmas of Angers said: “In the name of the Church, I publicly recognise the ‘remarkable’ character of the healing from which Serge François benefited at Lourdes on April 12, 2002. This healing can be considered a personal gift from God to man, as an event of grace, as a sign of Christ the Saviour.”

Archbishop Delmas said the bureau of medical experts at Lourdes had concluded that the recovery was “sudden, complete, unrelated to any particular therapy and durable”.

The healing could be considered “as a personal gift of God for this man, as an event of grace, as a sign of Christ the Saviour”, he said, avoiding the word “miracle”.

More than 7,000 cases of unexplained healings have been recorded in Lourdes, but only 67 have been recognised as miraculous by the Church. The healing of Mr François may be the 68th.

CONFERENCE IN ROME STUDIES BAPTISM IN THE SPIRIT

Pontifical Council for the Laity Sponsors Event

ROME, APRIL 1, 2011 (Zenit.org).- According to the preacher of the Pontifical Household, the first consequence of a baptism in the Holy Spirit is an overwhelming desire to proclaim Christ.

Capuchin Father Raniero Cantalamessa said this at an international colloquium on baptism in the Spirit, held March 17-20 in Rome.

The event was attended by some 150 theologians and sponsored by the International Catholic Charismatic Renewal Services (ICCRS) in collaboration with the Pontifical Council for the Laity.

Cardinal Stanisław Ryłko, president of that dicastery, celebrated the Mass on Friday.
Father Cantalamessa, in addition to his address, also led Eucharistic adoration.

The colloquium considered the contemporary experience of baptism in the Spirit from biblical, theological and pastoral points of view, especially in its relationship to the sacraments of baptism and confirmation.

According to an ICCRS report, Father Cantalamessa noted "that in contrast to many other charismatic and prophetic groups in Church history, the Catholic Charismatic Renewal has had a strong ecclesial bent. It aligned itself with previous renewal movements through the capacity it brought for a change of life, but differed from them in its fidelity to the institutional Church. He emphasized that credit for this belongs not to the Charismatic Renewal alone but also to the hierarchy, and particularly to the courage of Popes Paul VI, John Paul II and Benedict XVI."

Father Denis Biju-Duval, a professor at the Pontifical Lateran University, looked at baptism in the Spirit in relation to the sacrament of confirmation.

He lamented "the secularized atmosphere of Western culture [that] does not favor the integration of faith into a person's life" and thereby restricts the effects of the "sacrament of Pentecost."

The ICCRS report noted his affirmation that for spiritual growth to take place, it is necessary that the graces of baptism and confirmation unfold at the level of experience.

Bishop Michel Santier of Créteil, France, spoke about baptism in the Spirit in the writings of the Church Fathers, while Beatriz Spier Vargas, a leader of the Charismatic Renewal in Brazil, shared about the impact of the Renewal in her country.

Other lay leaders and priests shared about the impact of the Charismatic Renewal in India, Malta, Guatemala, Benin, Cameroon, England and Korea.

According to Oreste Pesare, director of ICCRS, the colloquium will be followed by the publication of a document on baptism in the Spirit.

68th Lourdes Miracle Approved

TV repairman, cured of a herniated disk, completed Way of St. James pilgrimage through France and Spain to the shrine of Santiago de Compostela.

BY CATHOLIC NEWS SERVICE
Posted 4/4/11 at 1:17 PM

ANGERS, France (CNS) — The cure of a French TV repairman who completed a 1,000-mile hike after his paralyzed leg was inexplicably healed has become the 68th miracle to be officially recognized by the Catholic Church at the French Marian sanctuary of Lourdes.

“After profound expert examinations, the International Medical Committee of Lourdes has concluded this was a remarkable occurrence, an unexplained cure according to the current state of science,” said Bishop Emmanuel Delmas of Angers.

“This cure can be considered a personal gift from God for this man, an instance of grace and a sign from Christ the savior,” he added.

Serge Francois, now 65, had been twice operated on unsuccessfully for a herniated disk when he traveled to Lourdes on a diocesan pilgrimage April 12, 2002.

He said the “unbearable flashing pain” in his left leg was replaced after a few minutes of prayer by an “intense sensation of good will and warmth,” which continued until the paralyzed limb completely recovered.

The repairman, now retired, reported the incident a year later to the Lourdes medical bureau, and it was judged “remarkable” by the 20-member International Medical Committee Dec. 1, 2008. His case was studied by a Church canonical commission in September 2010.

Francois completed the Way of St. James pilgrimage through France and Spain to the shrine of Santiago de Compostela after the recovery of his leg.

Lourdes, close to the Pyrenees in southern France, attracts about 6 million visitors annually and has been a place of pilgrimage since 1858, when St. Bernadette Soubirous experienced the first of 18 visions of the Virgin Mary while gathering firewood in February 1858.

To be declared miraculous, cures must be “found complete and lasting,” involving a “serious illness which is incurable,” and must involve a sudden “indisputable change from a precise medical diagnosis of a known illness to a situation of restored health.”

In a March 27 statement, Bishop Delmas said the committee had concluded the cure was “sudden, complete at functional level, unrelated to any particular therapy and lasting until today, eight years later.”

“It is certain that Mr. Serge Francois was totally and permanently cured at Lourdes,” he said.

In an April 4 interview with Catholic News Service, the Angers diocesan chancellor, Msgr. Joseph Traineau, said Bishop Delmas’ declaration should be treated as official recognition of the miracle by the Catholic Church.

“The word ‘miracle’ isn’t used at Lourdes now, because of its connotations — we now talk about ‘miraculous’ or ‘remarkable’ cures, but the meaning is the same,” said the chancellor, who co-signed the declaration.

“The diocesan bishop has publicly recognized that this was an absolutely unexplained cure, so this process is now complete. Although a cure can only be absolutely definitive once the person in question has died, this is indeed the 68th miraculous cure to be accepted by the Church.”

TREND SHOWS YOUNGER MEN BECOMING PRIESTS

21% Participated in World Youth Days Before Seminary

WASHINGTON, D.C., MAY 6, 2011 (Zenit.org).- More than half of the ordination class of 2011 in the United States are 25-34 years old, showing a consistent trend of younger men becoming priests.

The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops released the statistics for this year's class, reporting a five-year trend of increasing numbers of younger ordinands.

Some 333 ordinands were surveyed, out of a total of 480 due to be ordained for dioceses and religious orders this year.

The Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), a Georgetown University-based research center that conducted the survey, noted that 69% of the class is Caucasian/European American/white, while 15% are Hispanic/Latino and 10% are Asian/Pacific Islander.

The majority of the class has been Catholic since birth, though 8% entered the Church later in life.

Around a third of those being ordained have a relative who is a priest or a religious.

Over half of the class has more than two siblings, with a quarter of those surveyed reporting five or more siblings.

The report noted that 21% of those being ordained participated in a World Youth Day before entering the seminary.

Prayer

It added that 70% of the class regularly prayed the rosary, and 65% participated in Eucharistic adoration before entering the seminary.

The average age at which those surveyed first thought about a priestly vocation was 16.

For 66% of the respondents, a priest encouraged them to consider the priesthood.

Some 71% reported that they were also encouraged in their vocational discernment by a friend, parent, grandparent, relative or parishioner, while half also reported that someone discouraged them in this path.

The most popular hobbies or extra-curricular activities of the 2011 class are listening to music (73%), reading (67%), watching movies (62%), football or soccer (41%), hiking (33%), cooking (33%) and musical instruments (33%).

The class includes a man who has been deaf since birth, several refugees from Vietnam, military veterans and ministers who converted from other religions.

120th Anniversary Marked for Labor Encyclical 'Rerum Novarum'
How current events relate to the long-standing Church teaching.

Share BY PATRICIA ZAPOR (CNS) 05/06/2011 Comments (1)

WASHINGTON (CNS) — At a time when workers continue to struggle for decent wages and rights, panelists at a conference marking the 120th anniversary of the encyclical Rerum Novarum made clear that the letter on labor and the rights of workers holds important contemporary lessons.

After a daylong series of panel discussions May 2 at The Catholic University of America about the historic and contemporary context of the 1891 encyclical that is considered the groundwork for the Church’s social teaching, a final session put the previous discussions into context.

Cardinal Peter Turkson, president of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, said at a May 3 closing program that current times call for renewed efforts to fulfill the demands of Rerum Novarum.

He noted that the main functions of the state in the time of Pope Leo XIII and today are: pursuit of the common good, “which is not reduced to one’s nation, but considered from a world standpoint; awareness that this good cannot be limited to material goods but must include the moral good of society”; placing priority on people and families; respecting the free initiative of people; and aiding the neediest in society.

Putting those priorities into effect is necessary in these times, he said.

In an earlier interview with Catholic News Service and other news outlets, Cardinal Turkson fleshed out some of the themes of his remarks to the conference. He said numerous recent events point to the need for the modern world to take to heart the lessons of Rerum Novarum.

The efforts in several U.S. states to do away with collective bargaining by state employees and huge demonstrations in Italy and England at the beginning of the year mounted by students who were worried about their ability to find work are examples of insecurity among workers in many parts of the world, the cardinal said.

“Rerum Novarum has won admiration and interest precisely because it lays down basic rules of the social question,” Cardinal Turkson said, particularly “how is human dignity ensured in the midst of turmoil?”

Questions about worker rights, about the role of government in overseeing various aspects of society and about the power of capitalism come down to always ensuring human dignity, he said.

“For me, the criteria is how people are treated,” he said. “A society decides to entrust to a government ... to give it a mandate to ensure their well-being. I tend to judge every government by how well that government treats its own citizens.”

A government should not interfere with its citizens, but it has an obligation to ensure their well-being and to protect them from becoming victims, including at the hands of unscrupulously run businesses, he said. “Governments at the end are judged by how well their citizens live, and how happily.”

In one of two responses to Cardinal Turkson’s formal remarks, Bishop Stephen Blaire of Stockton, Calif., said workers today face an economic revolution, much as was the case in the time of Pope Leo XIII. Bishop Blaire, who chairs the U.S. bishops’ Committee on Domestic Justice and Human Development, said “the current revolution is a technological one.”

“Global poverty envelops the earth,” he said. “Millions are unemployed. Working conditions around the globe are often deplorable. Church-state relationships in many instances are adversarial.”

An example of the current needs for the teachings of Rerum Novarum lies in the needs of the poor in this country to have a voice on Capitol Hill amid budget and financial reform, said Bishop Blaire. “The poor have no lobbyists with huge bank accounts to speak for them.”

He cited the creation by more than 40 Christian leaders a week earlier of a “Circle of Protection,” a plan to stand with the poor amid budget cuts. “It requires shared sacrifice by all, including raising adequate revenues, eliminating unnecessary military and other spending and addressing the long-term costs of health insurance and retirement programs fairly,” he said, citing the statement of the group.

John Sweeney, president emeritus of the AFL-CIO, echoed his keynote address from the earlier session of the conference.

He cautioned that at the time of Rerum Novarum, “untrammeled capitalism” had changed the relationship between “master and worker,” the result of unregulated industries and failed systems.

Today, the problem is that for the past 30 years, some industries “have been waging all-out war” against the gains workers got through the growth of unions in earlier generations.

Rerum Novarum and later documents such as the 1986 pastoral letter “Economic Justice for All” by the U.S. bishops were powerful tools in shaping how the Church and society responded to needs of the poor, by starting from a focus on human dignity, Sweeney said.

It’s time for the Church to re-emphasize Rerum Novarum, he continued.

“Let us remind our entire Church that Rerum Novarum is not a cafeteria of suggestions and ideas from which we are free to pick and choose,” he said, “but the modern expression of an unbroken line that stretches from the Book of Genesis, throughout the Old Testament, to the teachings of our Lord Jesus Christ himself.”

Sweeney also urged a renewed partnership between Church and labor, “if the labor movement is to survive and perpetuate our mission of being what amounts to an action arm of Catholic social teaching.”