Soul Searching
Those who know me best would probably say I'm not much of a fighter. I go out of my way to avoid conflict. My co-workers would probably say I get along with everybody. The boss often assigns me to work with those who have problems working with others. Some of my best acquaintances would be considered obstinate by many. I have always admired people who aren’t afraid to speak their minds, even though I have difficulty doing this myself.
When a serious issue demands my response, I often find it easier to do so in writing. I have difficulty speaking off the cuff, especially when I am emotionally charged. Putting my ideas on paper allows me to organize my thoughts and edited them precisely. In doing so, words must be chosen carefully. The written word lacks emotional clarity. It can be easily misconstrued. (No, this is not the beginning of another diatribe against Sola Scriptura!) A polite reprimand may across as harsh criticism when transmitted black on white.
I can think of two times when written responses have gotten me in hot water. Both events involved my parish priests. The first time involved our pastor's decision to replace a pipe organ that had been in our parish for many years. It had fallen into disrepair, but was easily fixable. I had done some work on the organ for a previous pastor and was very familiar with the condition of the instrument and what it needed. The decision to replace was made without my input. After writing a rather terse letter to our pastor and the parish council, they reluctantly gave me a chance to make repairs. I did so successfully at no cost to the parish. That was about ten years ago and the old organ is still functioning today.
While the incident temporarily strained the relationship between me and the pastor for awhile, I think he was somewhat relieved that the expenditure of the new organ could be postponed. We got along fine after that little bump in the road. My latest episode with our current pastor has not healed quite so smoothly.
As I noted in my September 26, 2005 entry, I wrote a three page letter in response to our pastor's criticism of an architect our church renovation committee scheduled for a visit. Later, after our pastor made an unscheduled private visit to the architect's office, the visit was rescheduled. When the visit took place, the entire committee and our pastor seemed to be impressed by this architect and the project appeared to be on track again. A fee for preliminary drawings was eventually approved by the Pastoral Council according to minutes published in our Sunday bulletin.
Our committee was invited to present the status of the renovation to the Parish Finance Committee. Another member and I attended the special meeting, but were never given much of an opportunity to speak. Our pastor made the presentation which was permeated with misinformation and errors. He began with an explanation of EACW (Environment and Art in Catholic Worship), an obsolete 1975 document on church renovation which was replaced some five years ago. He then misstated the architect's fee commands. Attempts to correct him went unheeded. Before the meeting was over, my fellow committeeman and I both realized the futility of our participation in this project.
Here in the 21st Century Church, we find ourselves in the midst of a priest shortage where more and more responsibilities are falling on the shoulders of the laity. While having more control of the church is probably welcomed by most Catholics today, it can also create problems. The Church is not a democracy, but we now run our parishes as though it were. We elect pastoral councils and committees. We have lay ministers and ministries. As our pastor likes to say, we are all priests, only most of us are not ordained.
With active participation in the day to day activities of the parish, a certain amount of political baggage becomes a part of the package. There are personalities, opinions, policies, and conflicts with which to deal. In the old days, the pastor was the only one in power. Now there are many, not all of which are pulling in the same direction. The influence of the laity can find its way into the liturgies through extraordinary ministers, cantors, and music ministries. The pastor has the final say, as he should. But, when his wishes differ from those of the lay officers, resentment can easily arise. Worse yet is a weak pastor allowing or encouraging improperly trained lay persons to take control.
Harboring resentment or hard feelings toward a particular person can adversely affect one's participation at Mass, especially when that person takes an active role in the liturgy. In proper disposition, those feelings should be set aside in deference to the Lord's Real Presence on the altar, but our frail humanity does not always allow that to happen. Maintaining concentration during Mass can be difficult for even the most faithful Catholic. When these little distractions start to mount, the spiritual disposition suffers.
With all that has transpired in the past couple of years, I find my own spiritual disposition lacking these days. Rather than being fixated on the Mass, I sometimes find myself distracted by little abuses in the liturgy, the altered wording, the unusual Eucharistic prayer, the candy-coated homilies, and so forth. I get annoyed when the pastor changes a Mass time so he can go to the casino, and I let all of these things bother me when I am in church. It's not a conscious choice. I wish these thoughts would vanish, but they will not quietly go away. They bother me to the extent that I have allowed them to decrease my attendance at weekday Mass.
I suppose everyone goes through spiritual highs and lows. I hope to emerge from my funk soon. One thing I have learned. I miss the spiritual nourishment of the Eucharist. When I was receiving four or five times a week, I did not realize how much stronger I was. Now that I receive the Eucharist about twice a week, I can feel the loss. I am trying to fill the void with prayer. I pray for our pastor, our bishop, and our parish. I pray for unity, that we may all come together, that we may be united in opinion as Paul said we should be.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Tabernacle Treatment
The pending restoration of our church sanctuary has spurned much discussion about the tabernacle. Where should it be located? Should it be humble or ornate? Some have even questioned its purpose. Is the tabernacle merely a storage locker for extra hosts or a place of reservation suitable for adoration?
According to Pope Benedict's book, The Spirit of the Liturgy, the tabernacle is the fulfillment of the Old Testament Ark of the Covenant. Viewing the tabernacle in such typological terms carries certain implications. One tenet of typology says that the New Testament reality can never be inferior to the Old Testament type. We know what the Ark looked like and how it was constructed (Exodus 25). If the tabernacle harboring the Bread of Life is the fulfillment of the Old Testament Ark of the Covenant as Pope Benedict says, then we would do well to treat it accordingly. The tabernacle should be of superior quality and treated with due reverence.
In 2 Samuel 6:1-5, we read about the Ark being moved on a cart from the house of Abinadab to Jerusalem. When the oxen began to tip the cart, one of Abinadab's sons named Uzzah reached out to steady the Ark. Instead of rewarding Uzzah for saving the Ark from damage, God killed Uzzah on the spot. Uzzah was not worthy to touch the Ark. Should we not then treat the fulfillment of this Ark with even greater respect?
Moviegoers who saw Raiders of the Lost Ark know how Steven Spielberg portrayed the wrath of God when an unworthy person violated the Ark. Those of us old enough to have made our first Communion prior to Vatican II probably envisioned a similar calamity should we have accidentally touched the Communion host with our hands. Now, much of our reverence has unfortunately diminished with the relaxed rules. As Thomas Aquinas warned, changing a rule without necessary reason will diminish the binding power of the rule. In simple terms, the fact that a rule is changeable means it must not be too important.
Paul warns those who would eat the Body and drink the Blood in an unworthy manner. (1 Cor 11:23-27) In view of what happened to Uzzah, we would do well to heed Paul's warning by approaching the Lord's table in a state of grace. For those moments when we receive the Body and Blood of Christ, we too become Arks or God-bearers, and therefore, cannot be inferior to the Old Testament Ark.
The fact that Jesus had two distinct natures sometimes places us in a quandary on how to behave toward Him. Do we treat Him as God or man when He is in fact both? When our small parish sanctuary was remodeled in the 1970's, the tabernacle was changed from ornate to humble. Jesus was born in a stable we were told. He humbled Himself to become man. The emphasis at that time seemed to be on his humanity.
Perhaps the dual nature of Jesus is the cause of many of the conflicting ideas we have in how He should be worshiped. Should the Mass be celebrated on an altar of sacrifice or a dinner table? Should the priest face the congregation or face the east with the rest of us? Should we dispense with the iconography and sacred artwork in favor of simplicity and humility? Do we build beautiful cathedrals or functional gathering places? Do we genuflect or bow? Should we kneel or stand?
The sanctuary architecture and specifically the degree of attention drawn to the tabernacle conveys a message to those who see it. That message can be both overt and covert or subliminal. If the tabernacle design is little more than a fancy breadbox, little attention will be drawn to it. The overt message may be humility, but the covert message is indifference.
The human nature of Jesus is easier for us to understand. We are human and we know what it is like. The Divine nature is much more difficult. His Divine nature is what distinguishes Him from all the rest of us, and therefore, the nature that takes emphasis. It is that nature which commands our worship. It is the significance of that nature that we convey to others by the way we treat it.
For that same reason, the altar of sacrifice should resemble one. A tendency of some liturgists is to stress the community meal aspect of the Eucharist at the expense of recognizing the sacrificial nature. Is the Mass a sacrifice or a meal? It is both, but there is no meal without the sacrifice. The community meal is obvious to those participating. The sacrificial aspect must be taught.
This dichotomous relationship was a subject of discussion at the Bishop's Synod held in Rome earlier this month. Many Bishops recognize the problem of emphasizing the human nature over the divine nature and are calling for a return to more reverent behavior. Some have called for returning to the three hour fast before receiving the Eucharist, and a greater emphasis on the need for frequent confession. At least one bishop wants to again require Communion on the tongue while kneeling. All of this sounds good, but getting everyone to comply with stricter guidelines will be difficult at this point as Thomas Aquinas predicted.
The pending restoration of our church sanctuary has spurned much discussion about the tabernacle. Where should it be located? Should it be humble or ornate? Some have even questioned its purpose. Is the tabernacle merely a storage locker for extra hosts or a place of reservation suitable for adoration?
According to Pope Benedict's book, The Spirit of the Liturgy, the tabernacle is the fulfillment of the Old Testament Ark of the Covenant. Viewing the tabernacle in such typological terms carries certain implications. One tenet of typology says that the New Testament reality can never be inferior to the Old Testament type. We know what the Ark looked like and how it was constructed (Exodus 25). If the tabernacle harboring the Bread of Life is the fulfillment of the Old Testament Ark of the Covenant as Pope Benedict says, then we would do well to treat it accordingly. The tabernacle should be of superior quality and treated with due reverence.
In 2 Samuel 6:1-5, we read about the Ark being moved on a cart from the house of Abinadab to Jerusalem. When the oxen began to tip the cart, one of Abinadab's sons named Uzzah reached out to steady the Ark. Instead of rewarding Uzzah for saving the Ark from damage, God killed Uzzah on the spot. Uzzah was not worthy to touch the Ark. Should we not then treat the fulfillment of this Ark with even greater respect?
Moviegoers who saw Raiders of the Lost Ark know how Steven Spielberg portrayed the wrath of God when an unworthy person violated the Ark. Those of us old enough to have made our first Communion prior to Vatican II probably envisioned a similar calamity should we have accidentally touched the Communion host with our hands. Now, much of our reverence has unfortunately diminished with the relaxed rules. As Thomas Aquinas warned, changing a rule without necessary reason will diminish the binding power of the rule. In simple terms, the fact that a rule is changeable means it must not be too important.
Paul warns those who would eat the Body and drink the Blood in an unworthy manner. (1 Cor 11:23-27) In view of what happened to Uzzah, we would do well to heed Paul's warning by approaching the Lord's table in a state of grace. For those moments when we receive the Body and Blood of Christ, we too become Arks or God-bearers, and therefore, cannot be inferior to the Old Testament Ark.
The fact that Jesus had two distinct natures sometimes places us in a quandary on how to behave toward Him. Do we treat Him as God or man when He is in fact both? When our small parish sanctuary was remodeled in the 1970's, the tabernacle was changed from ornate to humble. Jesus was born in a stable we were told. He humbled Himself to become man. The emphasis at that time seemed to be on his humanity.
Perhaps the dual nature of Jesus is the cause of many of the conflicting ideas we have in how He should be worshiped. Should the Mass be celebrated on an altar of sacrifice or a dinner table? Should the priest face the congregation or face the east with the rest of us? Should we dispense with the iconography and sacred artwork in favor of simplicity and humility? Do we build beautiful cathedrals or functional gathering places? Do we genuflect or bow? Should we kneel or stand?
The sanctuary architecture and specifically the degree of attention drawn to the tabernacle conveys a message to those who see it. That message can be both overt and covert or subliminal. If the tabernacle design is little more than a fancy breadbox, little attention will be drawn to it. The overt message may be humility, but the covert message is indifference.
The human nature of Jesus is easier for us to understand. We are human and we know what it is like. The Divine nature is much more difficult. His Divine nature is what distinguishes Him from all the rest of us, and therefore, the nature that takes emphasis. It is that nature which commands our worship. It is the significance of that nature that we convey to others by the way we treat it.
For that same reason, the altar of sacrifice should resemble one. A tendency of some liturgists is to stress the community meal aspect of the Eucharist at the expense of recognizing the sacrificial nature. Is the Mass a sacrifice or a meal? It is both, but there is no meal without the sacrifice. The community meal is obvious to those participating. The sacrificial aspect must be taught.
This dichotomous relationship was a subject of discussion at the Bishop's Synod held in Rome earlier this month. Many Bishops recognize the problem of emphasizing the human nature over the divine nature and are calling for a return to more reverent behavior. Some have called for returning to the three hour fast before receiving the Eucharist, and a greater emphasis on the need for frequent confession. At least one bishop wants to again require Communion on the tongue while kneeling. All of this sounds good, but getting everyone to comply with stricter guidelines will be difficult at this point as Thomas Aquinas predicted.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Renovation Consternation
Our Catholic parish will be 125 years old next year, and our church building will be 100 years old not long after. This Romanesque House of God towers over a small Indiana farmland town of about 2000 mostly Protestant inhabitants. It is where several generations have gathered for Masses, weddings, baptisms, and funerals.
While the exterior of the church looks much the same as it did in 1910, the interior has been renovated 3 times. From a very plain original sanctuary to an exquisitely detailed style of the 1930's, to a simplified but still beautiful design in the 1950's, the church was unmistakably Catholic with its iconography and elegance.
After Vatican II, many churches underwent redesign to reflect liturgical changes enacted by the council. In our church, a new sanctuary was married to the old nave. It was hardly a match made in heaven. The old walls were demolished and replaced with a new arched sanctuary covered with small stones embedded in concrete, a short-lived but popular fad of the 1970's. The beautiful old tabernacle became a wooden breadbox, unadorned and humble. Statues remained, but were painted a sandstone color. Instead of resting on marble stands, they were now supported on homemade boxes covered in cheap paneling.
I don't remember any particular distaste for the new design in 1974. The Catholic Church was going through a drastic change at that time and the new sanctuary was just a small part of it. Most of us seemed to take it in stride although I'm sure many hated to the see the old furnishings go. I remember a very devout Lutheran relative coming to a family funeral not long after the renovation. She gasped when she saw what we had done. "YOU'VE RUINED YOUR CHURCH," she later told my mother. Many years later, I began to think she was right.
Although the new design served the new liturgy well, subtle changes began to occur within the parish community. The old-timers could not help but notice a diminished reverence for the Blessed Sacrament among parishioners. Quiet prayer was overshadowed by socializing in the pews. Even the Altar servers seldom genuflected in front of the tabernacle. While many reasons may have contributed to this shift, the subdued design of the sanctuary sent a message to everyone who entered the church. What we once thought worthy of the finest decor was now relegated to simplicity. The tabernacle no longer commanded attention.
The modern sanctuary in contrast to the Romanesque nave formed a line of demarcation. The old did not blend with the new. Those who had lived through both eras began to long for the beauty and reverence of the old architecture. Now in a new century, the time has come to renovate again, not to return to the Tridentine days, but rather to harmonize the new with old; to bring back the reverence while maintaining the current liturgical norms; to marry our history with our present.
Undertaking such a project is a monumental task. While renovations prior the one in 1974 involved mostly new paint and furnishings, the current problem involves mismatched architecture requiring demolition and major reconstruction. An architect proficient in maintaining sacred spaces would have to be hired. This project would be expensive and a challenge to complete.
Several complications exist now that did not exist in the 1970's. Parish Councils carry much more power than they did back then. In fact, many parishes did not have councils in those days. If the pastor wanted something done, he did it. Our parish now has a finance committee in addition to the council. They could also impact the project. The number of parishioners has decreased since the 70's placing the financial burden on fewer shoulders.
With the pending anniversaries approaching, our parish council formed a committee to study the renovation. Members of that committee toured several churches that had undergone similar renovations. Pictures were displayed in the church vestibule for viewing. Later, I was asked to attend a meeting by one of the committee members. Also in attendance were our pastor, three members of the committee, at least one of which sat on the council, and another guest parishioner who owned a lumber company.
The committee members expressed their current ideas on the renovation and asked for our input. I was encouraged by their direction. They wanted to return make our sanctuary architecturally compatible with the nave, something I strongly favor. They wanted to restore the beauty and reverence which we have lacked for several decades. While a few of their ideas alarmed me, such as adding ceiling fans and angling the front pews, my overall impression was favorable. It seemed as though everyone, including our pastor, was essentially on the same page. I wouldn't find out until later that we weren't all reading the same book.
I was invited to continue providing input for the project. Despite some uncertainty of my role in all of this, I was interested in the opportunity of gently steering the committee in what I considered to be the proper direction. Early on, most everyone agreed we needed an architect, and I was asked to explore some possibilities.
While searching for information on the internet, I came across an article published by Our Sunday Visitor which told how students from the School of Architecture at a well-known Catholic University occasionally design projects for parishes that cannot otherwise afford to hire an architect. The students work under the direction of a Professor who is famous for his interest in Sacred Architecture. He is a good Catholic, well-versed in post-conciliar Vatican documents. He has published many articles on preserving sacred architecture destroyed by the modernist influence of the 1970's. The article mentioned projects all over the United States in which he was involved.
This professor became a person of interest for several reasons, not the least of which was the possibility of getting professional assistance from his students for free! Secondly, he was located just a few miles away. Perhaps most interesting to me was his expression of dismay at the modernist influences of the 1970's which gave us designs such as the one we are wishing to restore.
With the committee's permission, I contacted him by email, and we later spoke by telephone. After explaining our situation and what we wanted to do, the professor indicated this would probably not be something his students would do. Their projects were more inclined to be new construction. He also told me our project, based on my description, could cost a half-million dollars or more. When I told him that our weekly collection averages about two thousand dollars, he said, "ouch." He said the architect's fee alone could cost fifty thousand. It was my turn to say "ouch."
Before ending our conversation, I asked if he ever did consulting work. Would he be willing to come out and look at our project, give us some advice, and answer our questions? He said replied in the affirmative for a fee of five hundred dollars, and I passed that message on to the committee.
A short time later, a meeting was scheduled with a representative of our Bishop, a diocesan priest who must approve any renovation done to the church. Father Marty began by commenting on a list of ideas proposed by our committee. He said the altar should be smaller, "not coffin shaped" was the way he put it, open on the bottom to resemble a table rather than an altar. He suggested removal of the stone facade presently around the Sanctuary to be replaced by an apse similar to the original, but with a wider opening. The shape should match the arch of the original ceiling and windows. Before doing so, however, both he and our pastor emphasized the importance of getting all parishioners on board, especially those who may have been involved in selecting or donating the stone walls in the 1970's. I said I did not know of anyone who liked the present facade, but Father said he did, naming one of our oldest parishioners.
Probably the most controversial change suggested would be to move the tabernacle to the side. Gasp. Moving the reservation of the Blessed Sacrament away from the focal point is one of the signs often associated with the liberal parish. Father Marty listed several reasons for doing this. First, it would allow the tabernacle to be brought forward for a more intimate place for adoration. Second, he said it would eliminate some of the confusion Catholics have by having the Real Presence in two places during the Mass. And third, the Bishop does not like saying Mass with his back to the tabernacle.
The more conservative Catholics are suspicious of anyone who tries to push Jesus out of the Sanctuary. Ironically, both priests worried about offending someone who may not want to replace the ugly stone walls, but showed little concern for those who think the Blessed Sacrament should be the central focus. While I personally believe the tabernacle should be centrally located, the discussion did give me new insight into the polarization which divides many Catholics today.
During my phone conversation with the professor, he asked me what diocese we were in. When I told him, he sighed and said, "You may run into conflicts." He was concerned about us having a modern bishop who does not hesitate to impose contemporary ideas on old Sacred Architecture. When we mentioned the professor's name to Father Marty, he also voiced apprehension saying this professor has his own "agenda". Those mutual expressions of reservation proved to be harbingers.
In the days that followed, one of the committee members told me Father was in favor of having the professor come here for a consultation. Not wishing to take it upon myself to initiate a visit that would cost the parish five hundred dollars, I asked Father directly whether this is what he wanted me to do. He replied that a five hundred dollar stipend is very reasonable for something like this and I should extend the invitation. So I did.
The professor agreed to visit on a Tuesday afternoon and the committee decided to meet the previous Tuesday evening to prepare our questions. In order that everyone involved would be familiar with this man's work, I printed copies of several published articles which he had written, and I distributed them at the meeting. That turned out to be a mistake.
The next day, a letter from our pastor was left in my mailbox by one of the committee members. Father had read the articles and took exception to some of the professor's comments. He accused the professor of holding a "hierarchical" view. By "hierarchical", I believe Father meant a view directed vertically (focused upon God) verses horizontally (focused upon the Church community).
I based that assumption on a statement Father made in a handout distributed in August of 2004 when parishioners were invited to view proposals for an access ramp. He said the following: "Evidently the many stairs that led up to the Church proper reflected the poor theological mindset of that day, that is, God is 'up there' in the Heavens or riding mysteriously on some cloud and everything and everyone else was below. Recall the picture that depicted the hierarchical arrangement of Heaven & Earth in the older Bibles? As people finally ascended the stairs and entered the Church building they were drawn to that concept with the adorned ceiling that displayed such artistry and celebrated the Tridentine style of worship as to where the focus was magically and mysteriously 'up there'. The Communion Rail and Choir Loft both served to enhance such a concept." (my emphasis added)
As I pointed out last August, there are at least 42 New Testament references to God being "up there" in the heavens. (See my blog entry of August 29, 2004, Bringing Up Father) Many of these references came from Jesus Himself. Was His "hierarchical" view reflecting a "poor theological mindset"? I don’t think so.
Father's letter also stated that publications in which the professor's articles appeared were not all reputable sources. Among those he mentioned were Inside the Vatican, Catholic Dossier, EWTN, and Adoremus Bulletin. According to Father these sources "defend a certain Tridentine kind of mentality rather than a Catholic or universal kind of spirituality on worship and theology", and criticized the professor for using the Catechism of the Catholic Church and Canon Law "like a Bible thumper would use the Bible trying to defend a position". He was exceptionally critical of the word "Traditional" as though it were interchangeable with "Tridentine". He said, as pastor, he would put a stop to any renovation attempt that went in this direction and also said he was reluctant to spend parish money on this architect.
I had to take exception to Father's assessment. All of the sources mentioned who published this professor are solid Catholic sources, especially where fidelity to Church teaching is concerned. He seemed to be confusing architecture with liturgy. Restoring Romanesque architecture does not mean returning to Tridentine liturgy. I wrote a three page reply to his letter in which I noted many of these facts. I sent a copy to Father and the other committee members. With only the Labor Day weekend separating my response from the professor's scheduled visit, I had no choice but to notify him that we would have to cancel.
Much to my surprise, Father and one of the committee members drove to the university the following week to interview the professor and suddenly, the visit was rescheduled. We met last week and had a wonderful experience. The professor loves the Church and sacred architecture. Does he have his own agenda? Certainly. He wants to create beautiful holy spaces to exalt the honor and glory of God. Will it happen in our parish? Stay tuned.
Our Catholic parish will be 125 years old next year, and our church building will be 100 years old not long after. This Romanesque House of God towers over a small Indiana farmland town of about 2000 mostly Protestant inhabitants. It is where several generations have gathered for Masses, weddings, baptisms, and funerals.
While the exterior of the church looks much the same as it did in 1910, the interior has been renovated 3 times. From a very plain original sanctuary to an exquisitely detailed style of the 1930's, to a simplified but still beautiful design in the 1950's, the church was unmistakably Catholic with its iconography and elegance.
After Vatican II, many churches underwent redesign to reflect liturgical changes enacted by the council. In our church, a new sanctuary was married to the old nave. It was hardly a match made in heaven. The old walls were demolished and replaced with a new arched sanctuary covered with small stones embedded in concrete, a short-lived but popular fad of the 1970's. The beautiful old tabernacle became a wooden breadbox, unadorned and humble. Statues remained, but were painted a sandstone color. Instead of resting on marble stands, they were now supported on homemade boxes covered in cheap paneling.
I don't remember any particular distaste for the new design in 1974. The Catholic Church was going through a drastic change at that time and the new sanctuary was just a small part of it. Most of us seemed to take it in stride although I'm sure many hated to the see the old furnishings go. I remember a very devout Lutheran relative coming to a family funeral not long after the renovation. She gasped when she saw what we had done. "YOU'VE RUINED YOUR CHURCH," she later told my mother. Many years later, I began to think she was right.
Although the new design served the new liturgy well, subtle changes began to occur within the parish community. The old-timers could not help but notice a diminished reverence for the Blessed Sacrament among parishioners. Quiet prayer was overshadowed by socializing in the pews. Even the Altar servers seldom genuflected in front of the tabernacle. While many reasons may have contributed to this shift, the subdued design of the sanctuary sent a message to everyone who entered the church. What we once thought worthy of the finest decor was now relegated to simplicity. The tabernacle no longer commanded attention.
The modern sanctuary in contrast to the Romanesque nave formed a line of demarcation. The old did not blend with the new. Those who had lived through both eras began to long for the beauty and reverence of the old architecture. Now in a new century, the time has come to renovate again, not to return to the Tridentine days, but rather to harmonize the new with old; to bring back the reverence while maintaining the current liturgical norms; to marry our history with our present.
Undertaking such a project is a monumental task. While renovations prior the one in 1974 involved mostly new paint and furnishings, the current problem involves mismatched architecture requiring demolition and major reconstruction. An architect proficient in maintaining sacred spaces would have to be hired. This project would be expensive and a challenge to complete.
Several complications exist now that did not exist in the 1970's. Parish Councils carry much more power than they did back then. In fact, many parishes did not have councils in those days. If the pastor wanted something done, he did it. Our parish now has a finance committee in addition to the council. They could also impact the project. The number of parishioners has decreased since the 70's placing the financial burden on fewer shoulders.
With the pending anniversaries approaching, our parish council formed a committee to study the renovation. Members of that committee toured several churches that had undergone similar renovations. Pictures were displayed in the church vestibule for viewing. Later, I was asked to attend a meeting by one of the committee members. Also in attendance were our pastor, three members of the committee, at least one of which sat on the council, and another guest parishioner who owned a lumber company.
The committee members expressed their current ideas on the renovation and asked for our input. I was encouraged by their direction. They wanted to return make our sanctuary architecturally compatible with the nave, something I strongly favor. They wanted to restore the beauty and reverence which we have lacked for several decades. While a few of their ideas alarmed me, such as adding ceiling fans and angling the front pews, my overall impression was favorable. It seemed as though everyone, including our pastor, was essentially on the same page. I wouldn't find out until later that we weren't all reading the same book.
I was invited to continue providing input for the project. Despite some uncertainty of my role in all of this, I was interested in the opportunity of gently steering the committee in what I considered to be the proper direction. Early on, most everyone agreed we needed an architect, and I was asked to explore some possibilities.
While searching for information on the internet, I came across an article published by Our Sunday Visitor which told how students from the School of Architecture at a well-known Catholic University occasionally design projects for parishes that cannot otherwise afford to hire an architect. The students work under the direction of a Professor who is famous for his interest in Sacred Architecture. He is a good Catholic, well-versed in post-conciliar Vatican documents. He has published many articles on preserving sacred architecture destroyed by the modernist influence of the 1970's. The article mentioned projects all over the United States in which he was involved.
This professor became a person of interest for several reasons, not the least of which was the possibility of getting professional assistance from his students for free! Secondly, he was located just a few miles away. Perhaps most interesting to me was his expression of dismay at the modernist influences of the 1970's which gave us designs such as the one we are wishing to restore.
With the committee's permission, I contacted him by email, and we later spoke by telephone. After explaining our situation and what we wanted to do, the professor indicated this would probably not be something his students would do. Their projects were more inclined to be new construction. He also told me our project, based on my description, could cost a half-million dollars or more. When I told him that our weekly collection averages about two thousand dollars, he said, "ouch." He said the architect's fee alone could cost fifty thousand. It was my turn to say "ouch."
Before ending our conversation, I asked if he ever did consulting work. Would he be willing to come out and look at our project, give us some advice, and answer our questions? He said replied in the affirmative for a fee of five hundred dollars, and I passed that message on to the committee.
A short time later, a meeting was scheduled with a representative of our Bishop, a diocesan priest who must approve any renovation done to the church. Father Marty began by commenting on a list of ideas proposed by our committee. He said the altar should be smaller, "not coffin shaped" was the way he put it, open on the bottom to resemble a table rather than an altar. He suggested removal of the stone facade presently around the Sanctuary to be replaced by an apse similar to the original, but with a wider opening. The shape should match the arch of the original ceiling and windows. Before doing so, however, both he and our pastor emphasized the importance of getting all parishioners on board, especially those who may have been involved in selecting or donating the stone walls in the 1970's. I said I did not know of anyone who liked the present facade, but Father said he did, naming one of our oldest parishioners.
Probably the most controversial change suggested would be to move the tabernacle to the side. Gasp. Moving the reservation of the Blessed Sacrament away from the focal point is one of the signs often associated with the liberal parish. Father Marty listed several reasons for doing this. First, it would allow the tabernacle to be brought forward for a more intimate place for adoration. Second, he said it would eliminate some of the confusion Catholics have by having the Real Presence in two places during the Mass. And third, the Bishop does not like saying Mass with his back to the tabernacle.
The more conservative Catholics are suspicious of anyone who tries to push Jesus out of the Sanctuary. Ironically, both priests worried about offending someone who may not want to replace the ugly stone walls, but showed little concern for those who think the Blessed Sacrament should be the central focus. While I personally believe the tabernacle should be centrally located, the discussion did give me new insight into the polarization which divides many Catholics today.
During my phone conversation with the professor, he asked me what diocese we were in. When I told him, he sighed and said, "You may run into conflicts." He was concerned about us having a modern bishop who does not hesitate to impose contemporary ideas on old Sacred Architecture. When we mentioned the professor's name to Father Marty, he also voiced apprehension saying this professor has his own "agenda". Those mutual expressions of reservation proved to be harbingers.
In the days that followed, one of the committee members told me Father was in favor of having the professor come here for a consultation. Not wishing to take it upon myself to initiate a visit that would cost the parish five hundred dollars, I asked Father directly whether this is what he wanted me to do. He replied that a five hundred dollar stipend is very reasonable for something like this and I should extend the invitation. So I did.
The professor agreed to visit on a Tuesday afternoon and the committee decided to meet the previous Tuesday evening to prepare our questions. In order that everyone involved would be familiar with this man's work, I printed copies of several published articles which he had written, and I distributed them at the meeting. That turned out to be a mistake.
The next day, a letter from our pastor was left in my mailbox by one of the committee members. Father had read the articles and took exception to some of the professor's comments. He accused the professor of holding a "hierarchical" view. By "hierarchical", I believe Father meant a view directed vertically (focused upon God) verses horizontally (focused upon the Church community).
I based that assumption on a statement Father made in a handout distributed in August of 2004 when parishioners were invited to view proposals for an access ramp. He said the following: "Evidently the many stairs that led up to the Church proper reflected the poor theological mindset of that day, that is, God is 'up there' in the Heavens or riding mysteriously on some cloud and everything and everyone else was below. Recall the picture that depicted the hierarchical arrangement of Heaven & Earth in the older Bibles? As people finally ascended the stairs and entered the Church building they were drawn to that concept with the adorned ceiling that displayed such artistry and celebrated the Tridentine style of worship as to where the focus was magically and mysteriously 'up there'. The Communion Rail and Choir Loft both served to enhance such a concept." (my emphasis added)
As I pointed out last August, there are at least 42 New Testament references to God being "up there" in the heavens. (See my blog entry of August 29, 2004, Bringing Up Father) Many of these references came from Jesus Himself. Was His "hierarchical" view reflecting a "poor theological mindset"? I don’t think so.
Father's letter also stated that publications in which the professor's articles appeared were not all reputable sources. Among those he mentioned were Inside the Vatican, Catholic Dossier, EWTN, and Adoremus Bulletin. According to Father these sources "defend a certain Tridentine kind of mentality rather than a Catholic or universal kind of spirituality on worship and theology", and criticized the professor for using the Catechism of the Catholic Church and Canon Law "like a Bible thumper would use the Bible trying to defend a position". He was exceptionally critical of the word "Traditional" as though it were interchangeable with "Tridentine". He said, as pastor, he would put a stop to any renovation attempt that went in this direction and also said he was reluctant to spend parish money on this architect.
I had to take exception to Father's assessment. All of the sources mentioned who published this professor are solid Catholic sources, especially where fidelity to Church teaching is concerned. He seemed to be confusing architecture with liturgy. Restoring Romanesque architecture does not mean returning to Tridentine liturgy. I wrote a three page reply to his letter in which I noted many of these facts. I sent a copy to Father and the other committee members. With only the Labor Day weekend separating my response from the professor's scheduled visit, I had no choice but to notify him that we would have to cancel.
Much to my surprise, Father and one of the committee members drove to the university the following week to interview the professor and suddenly, the visit was rescheduled. We met last week and had a wonderful experience. The professor loves the Church and sacred architecture. Does he have his own agenda? Certainly. He wants to create beautiful holy spaces to exalt the honor and glory of God. Will it happen in our parish? Stay tuned.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
Catholic Catagories
A Baptist minister with whom I have been having a dialogue, recently posed this question:
"It seems to me that there are different categories of Roman Catholics today. Is this true? One author put it this way, "Ultratraditionalist Catholics (those critical of changes brought by the Vatican II counsel), Traditional (critical of liberalism, but generally accept the changes brought about by Vatican II, Liberal (replaced Bible and Church authority with authority of human reason and question papal infallibility) charismatic/evangelical (more evangelical in belief and affirm conservative orthodox doctrines and emphasize gifts of the Holy Spirit, some speaking in tongues), Cultural Catholics ('womb to the tomb' born, baptized, married, and buried in the Catholic Church, and popular folk Catholics, (predominate in Central and South America, (Eclectic in their beliefs and combine elements of animistic or nature culture religion with traditional medieval Catholicism)." Would you agree with this Categorization? Is there a dividing line, in your thinking as to what categorizes a congregation that is part of Catholic Church?"
Here is my answer: Within any large community or congregation, you will find varying degrees of religious zeal from individual to individual. With over a billion people in the Catholic Church, you can certain find varying degrees of fidelity to Church teaching. Yes, there are conservatives, liberals, traditionalists, charismatics -- you name it, we probably have some, although I might not define them exactly the same as the author you quote. Differing viewpoints exist within the structure of the Church, but I think that is probably true of most denominations. I would imagine in your own church, you may find some who prefer traditional Christian hymns, others who want more upbeat contemporary Christian worship, those with conservative views of Scripture, maybe others who interpret the Bible more liberally. Such differences do not mean the Church is divided or in conflict.
It seems to me that in the Protestant churches, people can seek a denomination that conforms to their personal beliefs. In that sense, like-minded people would tend to worship together. If serious doctrinal disagreements arise, people can move on to other Christian communities. In apologetic discussions with our Protestant brothers and sisters, we Catholics sometime like to point to the wide range of conflicting beliefs in the Protestant denominations as evidence of the inevitable division that result with the rejection of an authoritative Magisterium. To counter that point, I think some Protestant authors try to portray the Catholic Church as beset by internal strife and division. There is a distinction, however. The Catholic has that unifying bond with the Pope and Bishops of the Church. If one denies that authority, even though he may call himself Catholic, isn't he really a Protestor of sorts?
As far as having a dividing line between what constitutes a Catholic congregation, the Church structure (or hierarchy) is fairly well defined. The Pope assigns Bishops to oversee each diocese throughout the world. Within each diocese are parishes headed by priests assigned by the Bishop. Every parish (congregation) under this authority would be considered Catholic. There are several different Rites within the Catholic Church (Eastern, Latin, etc.), but all of these can be distinguished by their submission to the Bishop of Rome. So, it may be more proper to say there are just two categories of Catholics -- those who submit and those who have separated themselves.
I belong to a very small town parish of about 300 families. Within our typical parish, we have some who tend to be conservative, some who tend to be liberal, and maybe even a few trads! There are a few who may disagree with some Church doctrine. (We sometimes disparagingly call them "Cafeteria Catholics" -- those who like to pick and choose which teachings they accept! They act according to conscience, but do not necessarily have a properly formed conscience.) Normally, these differing viewpoints can co-exist in a parish without being divisive.
As Catholics, we should all try to maintain our fidelity to the teachings of the Church because we believe that is what Jesus intended for us to do. Are there Catholics who openly reject Church teaching? Certainly. We have our Ted Kennedys and John Kerrys who claim to be Catholic, but do not practice their faith. Are they still Catholic? Well, technically yes. They are baptized into the Church which contains both the wheat and the chaff! They do not experience the great joy and inner peace that comes when one submits to the will of Our Lord.
A Baptist minister with whom I have been having a dialogue, recently posed this question:
"It seems to me that there are different categories of Roman Catholics today. Is this true? One author put it this way, "Ultratraditionalist Catholics (those critical of changes brought by the Vatican II counsel), Traditional (critical of liberalism, but generally accept the changes brought about by Vatican II, Liberal (replaced Bible and Church authority with authority of human reason and question papal infallibility) charismatic/evangelical (more evangelical in belief and affirm conservative orthodox doctrines and emphasize gifts of the Holy Spirit, some speaking in tongues), Cultural Catholics ('womb to the tomb' born, baptized, married, and buried in the Catholic Church, and popular folk Catholics, (predominate in Central and South America, (Eclectic in their beliefs and combine elements of animistic or nature culture religion with traditional medieval Catholicism)." Would you agree with this Categorization? Is there a dividing line, in your thinking as to what categorizes a congregation that is part of Catholic Church?"
Here is my answer: Within any large community or congregation, you will find varying degrees of religious zeal from individual to individual. With over a billion people in the Catholic Church, you can certain find varying degrees of fidelity to Church teaching. Yes, there are conservatives, liberals, traditionalists, charismatics -- you name it, we probably have some, although I might not define them exactly the same as the author you quote. Differing viewpoints exist within the structure of the Church, but I think that is probably true of most denominations. I would imagine in your own church, you may find some who prefer traditional Christian hymns, others who want more upbeat contemporary Christian worship, those with conservative views of Scripture, maybe others who interpret the Bible more liberally. Such differences do not mean the Church is divided or in conflict.
It seems to me that in the Protestant churches, people can seek a denomination that conforms to their personal beliefs. In that sense, like-minded people would tend to worship together. If serious doctrinal disagreements arise, people can move on to other Christian communities. In apologetic discussions with our Protestant brothers and sisters, we Catholics sometime like to point to the wide range of conflicting beliefs in the Protestant denominations as evidence of the inevitable division that result with the rejection of an authoritative Magisterium. To counter that point, I think some Protestant authors try to portray the Catholic Church as beset by internal strife and division. There is a distinction, however. The Catholic has that unifying bond with the Pope and Bishops of the Church. If one denies that authority, even though he may call himself Catholic, isn't he really a Protestor of sorts?
As far as having a dividing line between what constitutes a Catholic congregation, the Church structure (or hierarchy) is fairly well defined. The Pope assigns Bishops to oversee each diocese throughout the world. Within each diocese are parishes headed by priests assigned by the Bishop. Every parish (congregation) under this authority would be considered Catholic. There are several different Rites within the Catholic Church (Eastern, Latin, etc.), but all of these can be distinguished by their submission to the Bishop of Rome. So, it may be more proper to say there are just two categories of Catholics -- those who submit and those who have separated themselves.
I belong to a very small town parish of about 300 families. Within our typical parish, we have some who tend to be conservative, some who tend to be liberal, and maybe even a few trads! There are a few who may disagree with some Church doctrine. (We sometimes disparagingly call them "Cafeteria Catholics" -- those who like to pick and choose which teachings they accept! They act according to conscience, but do not necessarily have a properly formed conscience.) Normally, these differing viewpoints can co-exist in a parish without being divisive.
As Catholics, we should all try to maintain our fidelity to the teachings of the Church because we believe that is what Jesus intended for us to do. Are there Catholics who openly reject Church teaching? Certainly. We have our Ted Kennedys and John Kerrys who claim to be Catholic, but do not practice their faith. Are they still Catholic? Well, technically yes. They are baptized into the Church which contains both the wheat and the chaff! They do not experience the great joy and inner peace that comes when one submits to the will of Our Lord.
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Revvin' on the Road to Heaven
In most every apologetic discussion with Evangelical Protestants, the topic of eternal security will come up. Is salvation assured for those who profess their faith in Jesus as Lord and Savior, or is our salvation an ongoing process? Are we justified by faith alone as the Protestant often contends, or is it faith in cooperation with works as the Catholic Church teaches?
At some point, the Protestant will cite 1 John 5:13 where he says, "I write these things to you so that you may know that you have eternal life, you who believe in the name of the Son of God." (NAB) They usually emphasize the word "know" as if it indicates certainty. The Catholic may agree that we have eternal life, but with less certainty, heeding the "things" that John wrote about obeying the commandments and avoiding sin. John writes about deadly sin just a few verses later. Most Protestants believe the "completeness" of Christ's Sacrifice means salvation is a done deal for the believer and anything more that we do gain eternal life indicates a belief that Christ's Sacrifice was insufficient. In fact, most Protestants believe they can commit adultery or any serious sin without losing salvation because the Blood of Christ washes away all sins, past, present and future. (No wonder they seem to be having much more fun than we do!)
Earlier this week, I found myself responding to a non-Catholic friend about the meaning of 1 John 5:13. He queried, "What does that verse mean if it doesn't mean that there is a way for Christians to know they will have eternal life?" Karl Keating's apostolate Catholic Answers offers the following response for Catholics who are asked, "Are you saved?" I am redeemed by the blood of Christ, I trust in him alone for my salvation, and, as the Bible teaches, I am 'working out my salvation in fear and trembling' (Phil 2:12), knowing that it is God's gift of grace that is working in me. (Pillar of Fire, Pillar of Truth, p.25)
It's a good answer, but I was trying to find a simple analogy to explain my understanding of 1 John 5:13 in a friendly way. Can we be assured of our salvation? I hope what I came up with does not set Catholicism back too far!
Back in the 70's, a co-worker of mine bought an early version of the SUV with 4-wheel drive. I believe it was a Ford Bronco or something similar. We live and work in a rural area where the roads do not always get plowed in the winter, and he good-naturedly bragged that he would arrive home safely during the first big snowstorm because he had 4-wheel drive while the rest of us would be stranded. We had a heavy snowfall one day and I decided to follow behind him as far as I could on the way home thinking he could open a path. When he tried to blast his way through a rather large drift, he got stuck immediately. I stopped and we spent a half hour or so trying to get him moving. Eventually, a farmer with a much larger truck came along and pulled him out.
The next day at work, we talked about how his front wheels did not appear to be driving as he tried to free the Bronco from the snow. He got his owner's manual out, and read a section where it told about the 'transfer case', and how it needed to be engaged while the transmission is in neutral in order to apply power to the front differential. The manual also explained how the driver must exit the vehicle and manually lock each of the front hubs by turning the locking knob a quarter turn. If John had written this passage in the manual, he might have concluded by saying, "I tell you these things so you know you have 4-wheel drive."
If anyone had asked my co-worker if he had 4-wheel drive, he would have been perfectly correct is answering, "YES, absolutely! I have 4-wheel drive." He did, but he still had to play an active role for it to be effective in getting him to his destination. I look at 1 John 5:13 in a similar way. I can truthfully say, "YES, I have eternal life", but I must follow "these things" that John tells me (obey the commandments, avoid sin, etc.) in order to partake of this gift from God. In my view, John wants us to know the blood of Christ opened the gates of heaven to all of us, but we must act in cooperation with God's will to reach our destination. In this context, so many other Bible passages make sense regarding what we must do to enter the kingdom of heaven.
So there you have it! Eternal security is like 4-wheel drive - well, sort of. Perhaps I should add a disclaimer. We have just gone through about a week of 90+ degree temperatures. It's probably no coincidence that I am harking back to snowstorms. If this analogy seems a little crazy, I could be delirious from the heat. Have mercy.
In most every apologetic discussion with Evangelical Protestants, the topic of eternal security will come up. Is salvation assured for those who profess their faith in Jesus as Lord and Savior, or is our salvation an ongoing process? Are we justified by faith alone as the Protestant often contends, or is it faith in cooperation with works as the Catholic Church teaches?
At some point, the Protestant will cite 1 John 5:13 where he says, "I write these things to you so that you may know that you have eternal life, you who believe in the name of the Son of God." (NAB) They usually emphasize the word "know" as if it indicates certainty. The Catholic may agree that we have eternal life, but with less certainty, heeding the "things" that John wrote about obeying the commandments and avoiding sin. John writes about deadly sin just a few verses later. Most Protestants believe the "completeness" of Christ's Sacrifice means salvation is a done deal for the believer and anything more that we do gain eternal life indicates a belief that Christ's Sacrifice was insufficient. In fact, most Protestants believe they can commit adultery or any serious sin without losing salvation because the Blood of Christ washes away all sins, past, present and future. (No wonder they seem to be having much more fun than we do!)
Earlier this week, I found myself responding to a non-Catholic friend about the meaning of 1 John 5:13. He queried, "What does that verse mean if it doesn't mean that there is a way for Christians to know they will have eternal life?" Karl Keating's apostolate Catholic Answers offers the following response for Catholics who are asked, "Are you saved?" I am redeemed by the blood of Christ, I trust in him alone for my salvation, and, as the Bible teaches, I am 'working out my salvation in fear and trembling' (Phil 2:12), knowing that it is God's gift of grace that is working in me. (Pillar of Fire, Pillar of Truth, p.25)
It's a good answer, but I was trying to find a simple analogy to explain my understanding of 1 John 5:13 in a friendly way. Can we be assured of our salvation? I hope what I came up with does not set Catholicism back too far!
Back in the 70's, a co-worker of mine bought an early version of the SUV with 4-wheel drive. I believe it was a Ford Bronco or something similar. We live and work in a rural area where the roads do not always get plowed in the winter, and he good-naturedly bragged that he would arrive home safely during the first big snowstorm because he had 4-wheel drive while the rest of us would be stranded. We had a heavy snowfall one day and I decided to follow behind him as far as I could on the way home thinking he could open a path. When he tried to blast his way through a rather large drift, he got stuck immediately. I stopped and we spent a half hour or so trying to get him moving. Eventually, a farmer with a much larger truck came along and pulled him out.
The next day at work, we talked about how his front wheels did not appear to be driving as he tried to free the Bronco from the snow. He got his owner's manual out, and read a section where it told about the 'transfer case', and how it needed to be engaged while the transmission is in neutral in order to apply power to the front differential. The manual also explained how the driver must exit the vehicle and manually lock each of the front hubs by turning the locking knob a quarter turn. If John had written this passage in the manual, he might have concluded by saying, "I tell you these things so you know you have 4-wheel drive."
If anyone had asked my co-worker if he had 4-wheel drive, he would have been perfectly correct is answering, "YES, absolutely! I have 4-wheel drive." He did, but he still had to play an active role for it to be effective in getting him to his destination. I look at 1 John 5:13 in a similar way. I can truthfully say, "YES, I have eternal life", but I must follow "these things" that John tells me (obey the commandments, avoid sin, etc.) in order to partake of this gift from God. In my view, John wants us to know the blood of Christ opened the gates of heaven to all of us, but we must act in cooperation with God's will to reach our destination. In this context, so many other Bible passages make sense regarding what we must do to enter the kingdom of heaven.
So there you have it! Eternal security is like 4-wheel drive - well, sort of. Perhaps I should add a disclaimer. We have just gone through about a week of 90+ degree temperatures. It's probably no coincidence that I am harking back to snowstorms. If this analogy seems a little crazy, I could be delirious from the heat. Have mercy.
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