Latin Loathers
While listening to the Catholic Answers Live radio program recently (7-31-08, first hour), I heard a caller from Spokane, Washington express dismay that the Church was returning to the Latin Mass and nuns in habits. Apologist Jimmy Akin tried to assure her that she need not worry. He explained that no one is advocating a complete return to the Latin Mass. The norm will continue to be Mass in the vernacular. Pope Benedict has merely recognized the attachment some Catholics have to the Latin Mass and has made it permissible for priests to celebrate the Mass in that form for them.
In the middle of Jimmy’s explanation, the caller asked if she could say something. He said yes and the woman stated she was “appalled” that Catholic Answers was so conservative. Regular listeners to Catholic Answers know that of all the Catholic apologist regulars on the program, Jimmy is probably least capable of masking his ire at certain callers when they become combative. Instead of calling them by name, he will address them as “Sir” or “Ma’am”. I sensed a “Ma’am” coming up and Jimmy did not disappoint.
Jimmy explained to her that Catholic Answers is neither conservative nor liberal. Catholic Answers is orthodox, meaning they seek to teach what the Church teaches. The caller became quite agitated and asked, “Where is God in all of this? God didn’t want this” to which Jimmy replied, “How do YOU know that God didn’t want this?” The caller shot back with “How do YOU know he did?” Jimmy stated that he knew God wanted this because it comes from the Pope. At this point, the caller expressed some disdain for the conservative leanings of the Pope prompting Jimmy to express concern for the state of her soul.
This exchange sadly typifies the polarization among some Catholics today regarding liturgical matters, and more importantly where it comes to fidelity to Church teaching. One can be liberal or conservative as long as he or she is orthodox. Being orthodox means respecting the authority of the Pope and accepting what the Church teaches. This is where we get into difficulty with some folks who think they know better than the old man in Rome.
In this particular case, nothing is being imposed on anyone. The Mass to which this woman is accustomed will continue to be the ordinary form. That is not to say the ordinary form cannot be celebrated in Latin. It can be, but Mass in the vernacular will continue to be the norm. What she may find more upsetting is new language in the ordinary form that will be coming soon. The Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments recently approved a revised English translation of the Order of Mass, which will be binding on us here in the United States.
Our English language undergoes subtle changes over time, sometimes called semantic drift. This happens in many different ways through every day usage. Words take on new meanings or connotations. One of the commonly used examples is the word gay, which usually means something much different today than it did a few decades ago.
Catholic apologists occasionally have to explain that they are so called because they explain and defend certain positions or doctrines of the Church. This type of apology has nothing to do with expressing regret as we commonly use the word today. That same apologist may also find it necessary to explain that when we pray to saints, we are simply asking for their intercession. The word pray originally meant to ask, and that is the way Catholics use it. Prayer in that sense is not a form of worship as some believe.
Changes in the language may seem insignificant, but variations in the way we communicate happen more rapidly than one might think. Our parents used expressions that would seem dated or even nonsensical today. Our children sometimes communicate in slang we do not understand. Find a hundred year-old newspaper and see how much writing styles have changed in a century. Now imagine the challenge facing a two thousand year-old Church in accurately passing down revelation to all of us living today.
That is one of the beauties of Latin. It is a dead language not subject to this evolution of meaning that all other contemporary languages experience. When our liturgies were celebrated universally in Latin, Catholics all over the world were using the same words, hearing and saying the same things. We may not have always known what we were hearing and saying, but we were always united.
When Vatican II permitted Masses to be celebrated in the vernacular, the Latin Mass had to be translated into all the various languages Catholics use, including of course, English. This may sound like a simple task, but it is not. A word for word translation is impossible. Sentence structures differ from one language to another. The translator must express the meaning intended by the original writer, and in many cases, that meaning may be subject to interpretation. In the case of the English translation of the Mass we use today, some would say it was done hastily and does not always adequately express the meaning of the original Latin. The new translation is a more precise translation.
Why is this so important? The Catholic Church is universal and she is one. When we participate in the Mass, every Catholic in the world is united at the foot of the Cross. If we are to be truly united, we must share the same mind and spirit, as Paul tells us. If every translation carries with it some variation in meaning, our unity can be compromised. The best way to assure this does not happen is to stay as close to the original as possible. When the priest says, “The Lord be with you” and we answer “And also with you”, we are not saying exactly what the original Latin says, and therefore, not necessarily what other Catholics are saying in other languages. The more precise response would be “And with your spirit”, and that is what we will soon be saying when the new translation goes into effect.
I pray that people like the caller from Spokane who was “appalled” by any thought of returning to Latin in the Mass, will see the beauty and historical significance of the Latin language in the Church, as well as the benefits of embracing it today. Thanks to the wisdom of Pope Benedict, we will continue to have the ordinary Mass in our improved English translation, plus the beauty and reverence of the Mass in Latin if we so choose, and that is extraordinary!
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Fringe Benefits of Catholic Life
One of the most important traits we can pass to our children is self-discipline. At a very early age, they need to understand boundaries. There are certain lines we never cross. For youngsters first approaching the age of reason, it starts with warnings not to play with matches, run with scissors, or cross the street. As they mature, they are told not to use drugs, smoke cigarettes, or engage in pre-marital sex. Good parents are deeply involved in the development of their children to ensure these boundaries are engrained in the psyche. Unfortunately, many children grow up without sufficient parental involvement which results in very little opportunity to learn self-discipline.
So many people today are out of control. They make poor choices throughout their lives seeking immediate gratification that is ultimately self-destructive. They over spend, over eat, over indulge, marry for the wrong reasons, and divorce for the wrong reasons. They choose a path that leads them into despair because they lack the discipline to place self-imposed limits on their behavior. They have never learned self-denial.
Catholics who practice the Faith devoutly are a step ahead of everyone else. Obedience and self-sacrifice are essential elements in living the Catholic life. As a child growing up pre-Vatican II, we never ate meat on Fridays. It may have seemed silly to some non-Catholics, but we learned self-discipline from this little penance. From an early age, we never questioned it. We simply did not eat meat on Friday no matter what. It was a line we never crossed or even considered crossing.
While we are no longer bound to refrain from meat, Fridays are still a day of penance. In some ways, imposing our own Friday penance may be even better for learning self-control. Catholic parents need to make Friday penance a requirement for their children. Allow them to choose their own form of self-denial or work of mercy, and make certain they strictly adhere to that discipline each Friday. For many who find this difficult to do, the easiest way may be to continue the practice of not eating meat. Of course, we must always keep the days of fast and abstinence during Lent.
Catholics learn self-discipline through strict obedience to the Commandments of the Church. We attend Mass on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation without exception. The question is never, “Are we going to Mass?” The only question may be, “Which Mass are we going to attend?” Missing Mass is not an option for consideration. That is another line we never cross.
In studying our Faith, we learn about the importance of covenants, especially the new and everlasting covenant we receive in Jesus. Unlike a contract, a covenant is unbreakable. Applied to our marriages, we come to an understanding of the total commitment we are making to our spouses when we exchange our wedding vows. Divorce is not an option. What God has brought together, no man can put asunder.
Growing up knowing and accepting unbreakable boundaries has great benefit for us in our everyday lives. Self-imposed rules allow us to navigate comfortably through a world wrought with treacherous temptation. Self-discipline builds strong character. It keeps us honest. It keeps us free from the burdens that come with over indulgence. If we can avoid attachment to material things, we never need to worry about excessive debt. If we can avoid over-consumption, we never need to worry about becoming an alcoholic. If we can control our temper, we never need to worry about reacting in anger, or mistreating anyone. If we can control our desires, we never need to worry about being unchaste, unfaithful or even over-weight.
Discipline comes from the word disciple. By following Christ and the Church He established, we learn self-control. Any mortification we experience through the denial of things we desire can be joined to the suffering of Christ for our redemption and for that of others. So when someone complains the Catholic Church has too many rules, consider the fringes benefits. Obedience to the discipline imposed on us by the Church can help us learn self-control if we live our Faith to the fullest. Practicing self-discipline helps us become responsible citizens, always in control of our actions and emotions.
One of the most important traits we can pass to our children is self-discipline. At a very early age, they need to understand boundaries. There are certain lines we never cross. For youngsters first approaching the age of reason, it starts with warnings not to play with matches, run with scissors, or cross the street. As they mature, they are told not to use drugs, smoke cigarettes, or engage in pre-marital sex. Good parents are deeply involved in the development of their children to ensure these boundaries are engrained in the psyche. Unfortunately, many children grow up without sufficient parental involvement which results in very little opportunity to learn self-discipline.
So many people today are out of control. They make poor choices throughout their lives seeking immediate gratification that is ultimately self-destructive. They over spend, over eat, over indulge, marry for the wrong reasons, and divorce for the wrong reasons. They choose a path that leads them into despair because they lack the discipline to place self-imposed limits on their behavior. They have never learned self-denial.
Catholics who practice the Faith devoutly are a step ahead of everyone else. Obedience and self-sacrifice are essential elements in living the Catholic life. As a child growing up pre-Vatican II, we never ate meat on Fridays. It may have seemed silly to some non-Catholics, but we learned self-discipline from this little penance. From an early age, we never questioned it. We simply did not eat meat on Friday no matter what. It was a line we never crossed or even considered crossing.
While we are no longer bound to refrain from meat, Fridays are still a day of penance. In some ways, imposing our own Friday penance may be even better for learning self-control. Catholic parents need to make Friday penance a requirement for their children. Allow them to choose their own form of self-denial or work of mercy, and make certain they strictly adhere to that discipline each Friday. For many who find this difficult to do, the easiest way may be to continue the practice of not eating meat. Of course, we must always keep the days of fast and abstinence during Lent.
Catholics learn self-discipline through strict obedience to the Commandments of the Church. We attend Mass on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation without exception. The question is never, “Are we going to Mass?” The only question may be, “Which Mass are we going to attend?” Missing Mass is not an option for consideration. That is another line we never cross.
In studying our Faith, we learn about the importance of covenants, especially the new and everlasting covenant we receive in Jesus. Unlike a contract, a covenant is unbreakable. Applied to our marriages, we come to an understanding of the total commitment we are making to our spouses when we exchange our wedding vows. Divorce is not an option. What God has brought together, no man can put asunder.
Growing up knowing and accepting unbreakable boundaries has great benefit for us in our everyday lives. Self-imposed rules allow us to navigate comfortably through a world wrought with treacherous temptation. Self-discipline builds strong character. It keeps us honest. It keeps us free from the burdens that come with over indulgence. If we can avoid attachment to material things, we never need to worry about excessive debt. If we can avoid over-consumption, we never need to worry about becoming an alcoholic. If we can control our temper, we never need to worry about reacting in anger, or mistreating anyone. If we can control our desires, we never need to worry about being unchaste, unfaithful or even over-weight.
Discipline comes from the word disciple. By following Christ and the Church He established, we learn self-control. Any mortification we experience through the denial of things we desire can be joined to the suffering of Christ for our redemption and for that of others. So when someone complains the Catholic Church has too many rules, consider the fringes benefits. Obedience to the discipline imposed on us by the Church can help us learn self-control if we live our Faith to the fullest. Practicing self-discipline helps us become responsible citizens, always in control of our actions and emotions.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Memories of John Hartford, Gentle on My Mind
Living in a small Indiana town of under 2000 people offers little opportunity to see big name entertainment locally. In the early 1990’s, our park board of which I am a member converted the old town athletic field into an outdoor amphitheater. The seating was already in place having been constructed of field stone and concrete set into a hillside by the Works Progress Administration in the 1930’s. The uncovered stage was used for our annual Mint Festival which featured three days of mostly local bands.
At the time the stage was new, one of the festival organizers managed the local hardware store. Larry played the bass in a group called the Hesitation Blues Band in the early seventies during his days at Indiana University with a singer named Tad Robinson who went on to have a successful career singing in Chicago-area bands and a few commercials. Tad also had parts in a couple of movies, including Under Siege with Tommy Lee Jones and Steven Seagal. For several years, Larry was able to get his old band mates to reunite on our stage. That was as close as we ever got to big name entertainment until one year when Larry came up with another plan.
In the spring of 1996, I went into the hardware store for something one day and asked Larry how the festival plans were coming. He said, “Do you know who John Hartford is?” I had to think for a minute. The name was familiar. Larry reminded me that John Hartford was the banjo player who appeared each week on a show called the Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour. He was also seen on the Smothers Brothers’ Comedy Hour and was probably best known for having written the song, Gentle on My Mind. Yes, I knew who he was. I remember him wearing a derby hat while playing happy little tunes on the banjo.
Booking John Hartford would be risky. The cost would be several thousand dollars and the open venue layout did not allow for collecting an admission charge. Larry hoped that sponsors and concession revenue would at least allow the festival to break even. I was excited that our little outdoor stage would be graced by someone who was somewhat famous, even though every time I told someone about it, I had to explain who he was.
Thinking I might get an opportunity to rub elbows with somebody famous, I asked Larry if he needed any assistance from us park board people in preparation for Mr. Hartford’s appearance. Larry said he planned to grill steaks for the group at his home before the show, but Hartford was on a strict diet and requested a vegetable tray. I offered to get a vegetable tray and bring it over to the house. Larry said that would be great. Hartford was scheduled to play Sunday evening and I was to bring the tray to Larry’s house about 4 o'clock.
The weekend of the festival was typical June weather, warm and muggy. That Sunday evening, I took my $35 veggie tray and went to the festival grounds to look for Larry. The sky was overcast when I tracked him down. He told me to leave it on his dining room table. The house was open. Larry was a lovable little stocky Italian with long black hair and beard to match. He never seemed too concerned about anything, including being burgled, I guess. His house was indeed open despite the throng of strangers in town. Entering Larry’s house, I saw little evidence of preparations for a celebrity guest. Somewhat disappointed that my donated veggie tray was not going to get me a face-to-face meeting with John Hartford, I placed it on Larry’s table and left.
On my way home, I saw a large tour bus parked by the town water tower. I also saw the sky getting dark in the west. Larry was standing not far from the bus, so I stopped to ask if he was going to need anything else from the park’s standpoint. I also wanted to know if he had a contingency plan in case of rain. Unfortunately, he did not, and about an hour before the performance was to start, the skies opened. It rained and it rained and it rained.
Show time came and went. It was still raining with no sign of stopping. Larry said he was going to go home to make some phone calls. Perhaps he could get permission to hold the concert at the high school. I asked if there was anything I could do to help. He told me to go knock on the door of John Hartford’s bus and tell him he was trying to find an alternate place for them to play. I did so, and a man who I later learned was one of the musicians, opened the door. After I delivered the message, he asked me if there was anywhere they could get some distilled water. I knew of only one store that was open on Sunday evenings and I offered to see if they had any. Apparently, John Hartford drank only distilled water and he requested several gallons. I went to the store and purchased three jugs and took them back to the bus. The gentleman at the bus door offered to pay for them, but I refused. What’s a few more dollars after a $35 veggie tray?
Larry returned a short time later. He looked defeated. His long hair was soaking wet. He was unable to get permission to use the school on such short notice. What about the firehouse, I asked. It was right next door. It wouldn’t hold too many people, but there weren’t too many people left. The fire chief was nearby so I asked him if the performance could be held in his station. He said he could not give the okay without permission of the town board. As is usually the case when the festival is going on, town board members don’t answer their phones – too many complaints apparently. No one of authority could be reached and Larry was running out of options.
By now it was getting late. Most people had gone home, and it was still raining. I went back to Larry and told him the fire station was not going to work out. Out of ideas, we went over the bus to explain the situation. The man who came to the door said, John had been paid and he would really like to perform. Larry had one more idea. He knew the proprietor of a small restaurant and bar on the west side of town. It was closed on Sundays, but Larry called the owner who agreed to open up.
The next problem would be finding an audience. It was about two hours after the original show time. Where was everyone and how does one get the message out that John Hartford would be playing at Muggly’s bar in a half hour? We called as many people as we knew might be interested, and a few who wouldn’t be, just to get bodies in the building. Surprisingly, there were a few hardcore John Hartford fans who had traveled some distance to see his performance. They were still waiting nearby and followed the bus to the bar.
On that dark rainy Sunday evening in June, about two dozen people watched John Hartford and the two musicians who accompanied him for an intimate performance that I remember fondly. Despite my earlier efforts, I had not seen John until the moment he appeared in the barroom. His skin was a pale gray color and he did not look well. It was as if everyone else was in color and he was in black and white. He was thin and gaunt. I would later learn that he was suffering from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
Accompanied by a mandolin and stand-up bass, He sang and played the banjo and violin, more appropriately called a ‘fiddle’ in this genre. I suppose his musical style would be described as somewhere between old-timey folk and bluegrass. Hartford relished life on the river in the days of sidewheel steamers, and much of his music had an 1890’s flavor which I grew to appreciate. There was a certain sadness to some of his music. He didn’t say much between songs and smiled only occasionally. The small crowd enjoyed his performance and he seemed to find comfort and strength performing his music.
When it came time for a break, he sat down at a table where some of his CDs where displayed for sale. I perused his recordings and picked out one called No End of Love because it contained Gentle on My Mind, the only song of his that I knew. Larry introduced me to John and I asked him to autograph the artwork label on the CD. His calligraphic signature was itself a piece of art, beautifully inscribed with great care. We exchanged a few pleasantries before he continued his performance. After about an hour and a half, he concluded his time with us and rode off on his bus into the dark rainy night.
My appreciation for his talent grew immensely after I listened to that CD a few times. I only wish I had the talent to adequately describe his ability to take the listener back to another place and time. Two songs in particular are my favorites. Both of them tell stories of sidewheel steamers on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers in the late 1800’s. When the Guiding Star Came to Tell City is the story of the first time the folks in Tell City, Indiana were introduced to “Honest to God” electricity. Hartford uses the vernacular of the period, along with great attention to detail, which allows the listener to feel like he was living through the experience.
This technique is especially effective in The Burning of the Grand Republic, which describes the night when the sidewheel steamer “burned to the water’s edge”. Hartford describes an event that happened near St. Louis on March 13, 1898 when the Mississippi excursion steamboat went up in flames. According to the report that appeared in the New York Times the next day, “Nothing was saved, and Capt. W.H. Thorwegen, his wife, and two children narrowly escaped death.”
Hartford’s account tells of a man “runnin’ at breakneck speed, over the road, past the dog pound, out of breath and he found a policeman on DeKalb corner and quickly turned in the alarm.” “The watchman awoke when he heard the flames, bedding, carpets, painting, railings – too late, he woke up much too late to save the Grand Republic.” Hartford goes on to describe the sky glowing and fleecy clouds turning to vermillion. And the red glare had a brilliance that made the moonlight green. “Even the trees on the Illinois shore stood out in bold relief.” The crowds on the levee “stood as close as they could dare, which was not very, and by twelve thirty, the fire had done its work. And by this late hour, they tried to find Thorwegen, but the captain of the Grand Republic was no where to be found.”
Hartford’s musical imagery contains many more vivid descriptions of the events of that night. Having listened to the song many times, I feel like an eyewitness. I can picture how “Lightning fingers of thirsty flame through layers on layers of dried out paint on filigreed wood curled out of the windows (or ‘windas’ as Hartford says it) eating their way to the roof.” I have seen the eerie look of trees illuminated by a nighttime inferno, but I could never describe them as accurately as Hartford did.
I was at work on June 4, 2001, five years to the month after our special evening with John Hartford, when I heard the radio report of his death. He was a true artist with a God-given talent for painting musical pictures of events long ago. Thank God we did not have video recorders in 1898. The subtle details, described so beautifully by Hartford, would be lost in our contemporary world of thirty-second sound bites. Descriptive writing is becoming a lost art. Today, a person can throw paint at a canvas and declare himself an artist. In my view, an artist is someone with a special talent for doing something the average person is not capable of doing. John Hartford had the ability to transport a person to another place and time through his music. God blessed him in that way. And Larry, the young man who introduced me to John, also left this world a few years later. May they both rest in peace.
Living in a small Indiana town of under 2000 people offers little opportunity to see big name entertainment locally. In the early 1990’s, our park board of which I am a member converted the old town athletic field into an outdoor amphitheater. The seating was already in place having been constructed of field stone and concrete set into a hillside by the Works Progress Administration in the 1930’s. The uncovered stage was used for our annual Mint Festival which featured three days of mostly local bands.
At the time the stage was new, one of the festival organizers managed the local hardware store. Larry played the bass in a group called the Hesitation Blues Band in the early seventies during his days at Indiana University with a singer named Tad Robinson who went on to have a successful career singing in Chicago-area bands and a few commercials. Tad also had parts in a couple of movies, including Under Siege with Tommy Lee Jones and Steven Seagal. For several years, Larry was able to get his old band mates to reunite on our stage. That was as close as we ever got to big name entertainment until one year when Larry came up with another plan.
In the spring of 1996, I went into the hardware store for something one day and asked Larry how the festival plans were coming. He said, “Do you know who John Hartford is?” I had to think for a minute. The name was familiar. Larry reminded me that John Hartford was the banjo player who appeared each week on a show called the Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour. He was also seen on the Smothers Brothers’ Comedy Hour and was probably best known for having written the song, Gentle on My Mind. Yes, I knew who he was. I remember him wearing a derby hat while playing happy little tunes on the banjo.
Booking John Hartford would be risky. The cost would be several thousand dollars and the open venue layout did not allow for collecting an admission charge. Larry hoped that sponsors and concession revenue would at least allow the festival to break even. I was excited that our little outdoor stage would be graced by someone who was somewhat famous, even though every time I told someone about it, I had to explain who he was.
Thinking I might get an opportunity to rub elbows with somebody famous, I asked Larry if he needed any assistance from us park board people in preparation for Mr. Hartford’s appearance. Larry said he planned to grill steaks for the group at his home before the show, but Hartford was on a strict diet and requested a vegetable tray. I offered to get a vegetable tray and bring it over to the house. Larry said that would be great. Hartford was scheduled to play Sunday evening and I was to bring the tray to Larry’s house about 4 o'clock.
The weekend of the festival was typical June weather, warm and muggy. That Sunday evening, I took my $35 veggie tray and went to the festival grounds to look for Larry. The sky was overcast when I tracked him down. He told me to leave it on his dining room table. The house was open. Larry was a lovable little stocky Italian with long black hair and beard to match. He never seemed too concerned about anything, including being burgled, I guess. His house was indeed open despite the throng of strangers in town. Entering Larry’s house, I saw little evidence of preparations for a celebrity guest. Somewhat disappointed that my donated veggie tray was not going to get me a face-to-face meeting with John Hartford, I placed it on Larry’s table and left.
On my way home, I saw a large tour bus parked by the town water tower. I also saw the sky getting dark in the west. Larry was standing not far from the bus, so I stopped to ask if he was going to need anything else from the park’s standpoint. I also wanted to know if he had a contingency plan in case of rain. Unfortunately, he did not, and about an hour before the performance was to start, the skies opened. It rained and it rained and it rained.
Show time came and went. It was still raining with no sign of stopping. Larry said he was going to go home to make some phone calls. Perhaps he could get permission to hold the concert at the high school. I asked if there was anything I could do to help. He told me to go knock on the door of John Hartford’s bus and tell him he was trying to find an alternate place for them to play. I did so, and a man who I later learned was one of the musicians, opened the door. After I delivered the message, he asked me if there was anywhere they could get some distilled water. I knew of only one store that was open on Sunday evenings and I offered to see if they had any. Apparently, John Hartford drank only distilled water and he requested several gallons. I went to the store and purchased three jugs and took them back to the bus. The gentleman at the bus door offered to pay for them, but I refused. What’s a few more dollars after a $35 veggie tray?
Larry returned a short time later. He looked defeated. His long hair was soaking wet. He was unable to get permission to use the school on such short notice. What about the firehouse, I asked. It was right next door. It wouldn’t hold too many people, but there weren’t too many people left. The fire chief was nearby so I asked him if the performance could be held in his station. He said he could not give the okay without permission of the town board. As is usually the case when the festival is going on, town board members don’t answer their phones – too many complaints apparently. No one of authority could be reached and Larry was running out of options.
By now it was getting late. Most people had gone home, and it was still raining. I went back to Larry and told him the fire station was not going to work out. Out of ideas, we went over the bus to explain the situation. The man who came to the door said, John had been paid and he would really like to perform. Larry had one more idea. He knew the proprietor of a small restaurant and bar on the west side of town. It was closed on Sundays, but Larry called the owner who agreed to open up.
The next problem would be finding an audience. It was about two hours after the original show time. Where was everyone and how does one get the message out that John Hartford would be playing at Muggly’s bar in a half hour? We called as many people as we knew might be interested, and a few who wouldn’t be, just to get bodies in the building. Surprisingly, there were a few hardcore John Hartford fans who had traveled some distance to see his performance. They were still waiting nearby and followed the bus to the bar.
On that dark rainy Sunday evening in June, about two dozen people watched John Hartford and the two musicians who accompanied him for an intimate performance that I remember fondly. Despite my earlier efforts, I had not seen John until the moment he appeared in the barroom. His skin was a pale gray color and he did not look well. It was as if everyone else was in color and he was in black and white. He was thin and gaunt. I would later learn that he was suffering from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
Accompanied by a mandolin and stand-up bass, He sang and played the banjo and violin, more appropriately called a ‘fiddle’ in this genre. I suppose his musical style would be described as somewhere between old-timey folk and bluegrass. Hartford relished life on the river in the days of sidewheel steamers, and much of his music had an 1890’s flavor which I grew to appreciate. There was a certain sadness to some of his music. He didn’t say much between songs and smiled only occasionally. The small crowd enjoyed his performance and he seemed to find comfort and strength performing his music.
When it came time for a break, he sat down at a table where some of his CDs where displayed for sale. I perused his recordings and picked out one called No End of Love because it contained Gentle on My Mind, the only song of his that I knew. Larry introduced me to John and I asked him to autograph the artwork label on the CD. His calligraphic signature was itself a piece of art, beautifully inscribed with great care. We exchanged a few pleasantries before he continued his performance. After about an hour and a half, he concluded his time with us and rode off on his bus into the dark rainy night.
My appreciation for his talent grew immensely after I listened to that CD a few times. I only wish I had the talent to adequately describe his ability to take the listener back to another place and time. Two songs in particular are my favorites. Both of them tell stories of sidewheel steamers on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers in the late 1800’s. When the Guiding Star Came to Tell City is the story of the first time the folks in Tell City, Indiana were introduced to “Honest to God” electricity. Hartford uses the vernacular of the period, along with great attention to detail, which allows the listener to feel like he was living through the experience.
This technique is especially effective in The Burning of the Grand Republic, which describes the night when the sidewheel steamer “burned to the water’s edge”. Hartford describes an event that happened near St. Louis on March 13, 1898 when the Mississippi excursion steamboat went up in flames. According to the report that appeared in the New York Times the next day, “Nothing was saved, and Capt. W.H. Thorwegen, his wife, and two children narrowly escaped death.”
Hartford’s account tells of a man “runnin’ at breakneck speed, over the road, past the dog pound, out of breath and he found a policeman on DeKalb corner and quickly turned in the alarm.” “The watchman awoke when he heard the flames, bedding, carpets, painting, railings – too late, he woke up much too late to save the Grand Republic.” Hartford goes on to describe the sky glowing and fleecy clouds turning to vermillion. And the red glare had a brilliance that made the moonlight green. “Even the trees on the Illinois shore stood out in bold relief.” The crowds on the levee “stood as close as they could dare, which was not very, and by twelve thirty, the fire had done its work. And by this late hour, they tried to find Thorwegen, but the captain of the Grand Republic was no where to be found.”
Hartford’s musical imagery contains many more vivid descriptions of the events of that night. Having listened to the song many times, I feel like an eyewitness. I can picture how “Lightning fingers of thirsty flame through layers on layers of dried out paint on filigreed wood curled out of the windows (or ‘windas’ as Hartford says it) eating their way to the roof.” I have seen the eerie look of trees illuminated by a nighttime inferno, but I could never describe them as accurately as Hartford did.
I was at work on June 4, 2001, five years to the month after our special evening with John Hartford, when I heard the radio report of his death. He was a true artist with a God-given talent for painting musical pictures of events long ago. Thank God we did not have video recorders in 1898. The subtle details, described so beautifully by Hartford, would be lost in our contemporary world of thirty-second sound bites. Descriptive writing is becoming a lost art. Today, a person can throw paint at a canvas and declare himself an artist. In my view, an artist is someone with a special talent for doing something the average person is not capable of doing. John Hartford had the ability to transport a person to another place and time through his music. God blessed him in that way. And Larry, the young man who introduced me to John, also left this world a few years later. May they both rest in peace.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Let’s Hear It for Jesus!
Near the end of our Faith Enhancement class this week, our leader mentioned what a wonderful homily the Monsignor gave at his parish last Sunday for the Feast of Corpus Christi. The priest pointed out how people stand and applaud when a king or queen enters the room, always conscious of proper protocol. Yet when our true king, Christ the King, becomes present on the altar, we do no such thing. At that point, he asked the entire congregation to stand and applaud the Presence of Jesus. The leader and other members of the class thought this was a wonderful gesture to acknowledge the Real Presence.
I can understand the message the good priest was trying to convey. Various polls show that many Catholics do not even believe in the Real Presence anymore. Many of those who do believe fail to show it by their actions at Mass, but is standing and applauding the proper sign of respect? I remember one of our parishioners complaining about the music we select for our Masses. She wanted something more lively and upbeat. What is wrong with applauding Jesus or clapping our hands to the rhythm of more lively Christian music at Mass?
Protestants occasionally accuse us Catholics of re-sacrificing Jesus at the Mass. Jesus died once and for all, they will tell us. Catholic apologists repeatedly have to explain that we do not re-sacrifice Jesus at the Mass. The Mass is the re-presentation of the same, once and for all Sacrifice of Jesus on Calvary. The hyphen in re-presentation is to make clear the meaning. That very same Sacrifice on Calvary is made present again on the altar of every Catholic Church at every Mass. That very same Sacrifice is present for us, unlimited by space or time, in an unbloody manner. Every time we attend Mass, we are actually kneeling at the foot of the Cross.
Now, if we imagine ourselves at the foot of the Cross with the Blessed Mother, the apostle John, and Mary Magdalene, how would we behave? Would it be appropriate to stand and applaud? I don’t think so. Yet, the Mass is also a celebration. We experience joy in knowing Our Lord died for our salvation. God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that everyone who believes in Him might not parish but might have eternal life. He also gives us this wonderful gift of the Eucharist. So, what is the proper response for us?
We should display our utmost reverence for the Presence of Our Lord on the altar. Our reverence should be reflected in the way we act, the way we dress, the way we worship, the way we pray, they way we sing, and the way we prepare ourselves to receive Him. Applause and fanfare may be adequate for an earthly king who did little to earn his throne beyond being born into the royal family. Christ the King who freed us from our sins by His death and resurrection, deserves much more from us.
This year, the Feast of Corpus Christi coincided with Memorial Day weekend. On Monday morning, we attended a Memorial Day service at the cemetery conducted by the local Veterans. The mood was somber and respectful as we remembered those who died to protect our freedom. There were salutes and prayers. Some choked back tears as they spoke of their fallen comrades. Others spoke of freedom we enjoy each day because of those who gave their lives. A bugler played taps. When he finished, there was no cheering or applause. No one complained that the music was not lively enough. People approached quietly and left quietly. Nobody told us how to act. Understanding where we were and what was going on, it just seemed like the appropriate way to behave. I believe there is a lesson to be learned here.
Near the end of our Faith Enhancement class this week, our leader mentioned what a wonderful homily the Monsignor gave at his parish last Sunday for the Feast of Corpus Christi. The priest pointed out how people stand and applaud when a king or queen enters the room, always conscious of proper protocol. Yet when our true king, Christ the King, becomes present on the altar, we do no such thing. At that point, he asked the entire congregation to stand and applaud the Presence of Jesus. The leader and other members of the class thought this was a wonderful gesture to acknowledge the Real Presence.
I can understand the message the good priest was trying to convey. Various polls show that many Catholics do not even believe in the Real Presence anymore. Many of those who do believe fail to show it by their actions at Mass, but is standing and applauding the proper sign of respect? I remember one of our parishioners complaining about the music we select for our Masses. She wanted something more lively and upbeat. What is wrong with applauding Jesus or clapping our hands to the rhythm of more lively Christian music at Mass?
Protestants occasionally accuse us Catholics of re-sacrificing Jesus at the Mass. Jesus died once and for all, they will tell us. Catholic apologists repeatedly have to explain that we do not re-sacrifice Jesus at the Mass. The Mass is the re-presentation of the same, once and for all Sacrifice of Jesus on Calvary. The hyphen in re-presentation is to make clear the meaning. That very same Sacrifice on Calvary is made present again on the altar of every Catholic Church at every Mass. That very same Sacrifice is present for us, unlimited by space or time, in an unbloody manner. Every time we attend Mass, we are actually kneeling at the foot of the Cross.
Now, if we imagine ourselves at the foot of the Cross with the Blessed Mother, the apostle John, and Mary Magdalene, how would we behave? Would it be appropriate to stand and applaud? I don’t think so. Yet, the Mass is also a celebration. We experience joy in knowing Our Lord died for our salvation. God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that everyone who believes in Him might not parish but might have eternal life. He also gives us this wonderful gift of the Eucharist. So, what is the proper response for us?
We should display our utmost reverence for the Presence of Our Lord on the altar. Our reverence should be reflected in the way we act, the way we dress, the way we worship, the way we pray, they way we sing, and the way we prepare ourselves to receive Him. Applause and fanfare may be adequate for an earthly king who did little to earn his throne beyond being born into the royal family. Christ the King who freed us from our sins by His death and resurrection, deserves much more from us.
This year, the Feast of Corpus Christi coincided with Memorial Day weekend. On Monday morning, we attended a Memorial Day service at the cemetery conducted by the local Veterans. The mood was somber and respectful as we remembered those who died to protect our freedom. There were salutes and prayers. Some choked back tears as they spoke of their fallen comrades. Others spoke of freedom we enjoy each day because of those who gave their lives. A bugler played taps. When he finished, there was no cheering or applause. No one complained that the music was not lively enough. People approached quietly and left quietly. Nobody told us how to act. Understanding where we were and what was going on, it just seemed like the appropriate way to behave. I believe there is a lesson to be learned here.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Memorial Day 2008
I have always wondered how so many Catholics stand firm in support of Democrats, the party of abortion. Recent polls cited Catholic support of Hillary Clinton as key to her wins in several primaries. Catholics have traditionally been Democrats, but the Democratic party of today is not the same as the party of years ago. What may have once been the party of hard-working blue collar Christian families has now succumbed to the wayward interests of the self-centered secular masses.
Today I read another article in our local Catholic paper critical of our involvement in the Iraq war. Nobody likes war. We don’t want to be there, but the argument can be made that we were justified in going in, and even if we were not, to abandon the Iraqi people now would be great disservice to them and those who gave their lives for their freedom.
The timing of our invasion followed the September 11th attack on our nation. The perpetrators of that event had to be confronted, and we are engaging them on their soil rather than ours. While Saddam Hussein may not have been directly responsible for 9/11, he was certainly responsible for the loss of many innocent lives during his rule. If we were to suddenly abandon the Iraqi people, civil war could lead to many more lost lives.
The point of all this is not to say we were right or wrong in going into Iraq. Certainly that is a matter for debate. We do need to acknowledge a responsibility, as the catechism says, to protect those who cannot protect themselves. When I read some of these anti-war statements by Catholic clergy and laymen, I sometimes find it difficult to determine if they are simply anti-policy or are they anti-Republican or even anti-American? Some give the impression they believe our motives for being in Iraq are evil which I do not believe. I wonder if some of them do so in order to justify their support for Democrats.
I was moved this Memorial Day Weekend by a local woman, Holly Bochnicka, who took the time to write in her own hand, the names of every member of our military who died in Iraq and Afghanistan since the war began. She spent the winter meticulously printing nearly 4600 names on long red white and blue banners which are now displayed near the Veteran’s Memorial in our town park. One cannot help but shudder at the loss of so many lives in a land so far away that posed no threat to us. Yet, American men and women unselfishly went there to free people from oppression of an evil dictator.
While those 4600 lives were being lost in the war, the number of pregnancies aborted in the United States numbered in the millions. Many of those who are quick to condemn our involvement protecting the freedom of the Iraqi people, are the same ones to stand up for protecting the legal right for American women to kill their unborn children.
Come November, we will have to choose between two candidates for the presidency of our country. One of them wants to pull our troops out of Iraq while protecting abortion rights. The other wants to stay the course in Iraq as long as necessary while being Pro-life, though not to the extent we would like. Neither choice is ideal.
I would be really curious to know how these Catholics who are so critical of our policies under George Bush will vote this November. Will they place the several thousand lives lost in war in Iraq over the millions of lives lost here in the United States through abortion? If so, I can no longer take any of their arguments seriously. To vote for a pro-abortion Democrat over a pro-life Republican strictly based on trying to save lives is hypocrisy.
Every human life is precious beyond measure, whether it be a soldier in Iraq or a baby in its mother’s womb. On this Memorial Day, we pray for the souls of those who have died in the war and those in the womb. We pray for the families who bear the pain of loss. May their suffering be united to the suffering of Our Lord for the remission of sins and may God have mercy on us all.
I have always wondered how so many Catholics stand firm in support of Democrats, the party of abortion. Recent polls cited Catholic support of Hillary Clinton as key to her wins in several primaries. Catholics have traditionally been Democrats, but the Democratic party of today is not the same as the party of years ago. What may have once been the party of hard-working blue collar Christian families has now succumbed to the wayward interests of the self-centered secular masses.
Today I read another article in our local Catholic paper critical of our involvement in the Iraq war. Nobody likes war. We don’t want to be there, but the argument can be made that we were justified in going in, and even if we were not, to abandon the Iraqi people now would be great disservice to them and those who gave their lives for their freedom.
The timing of our invasion followed the September 11th attack on our nation. The perpetrators of that event had to be confronted, and we are engaging them on their soil rather than ours. While Saddam Hussein may not have been directly responsible for 9/11, he was certainly responsible for the loss of many innocent lives during his rule. If we were to suddenly abandon the Iraqi people, civil war could lead to many more lost lives.
The point of all this is not to say we were right or wrong in going into Iraq. Certainly that is a matter for debate. We do need to acknowledge a responsibility, as the catechism says, to protect those who cannot protect themselves. When I read some of these anti-war statements by Catholic clergy and laymen, I sometimes find it difficult to determine if they are simply anti-policy or are they anti-Republican or even anti-American? Some give the impression they believe our motives for being in Iraq are evil which I do not believe. I wonder if some of them do so in order to justify their support for Democrats.
I was moved this Memorial Day Weekend by a local woman, Holly Bochnicka, who took the time to write in her own hand, the names of every member of our military who died in Iraq and Afghanistan since the war began. She spent the winter meticulously printing nearly 4600 names on long red white and blue banners which are now displayed near the Veteran’s Memorial in our town park. One cannot help but shudder at the loss of so many lives in a land so far away that posed no threat to us. Yet, American men and women unselfishly went there to free people from oppression of an evil dictator.
While those 4600 lives were being lost in the war, the number of pregnancies aborted in the United States numbered in the millions. Many of those who are quick to condemn our involvement protecting the freedom of the Iraqi people, are the same ones to stand up for protecting the legal right for American women to kill their unborn children.
Come November, we will have to choose between two candidates for the presidency of our country. One of them wants to pull our troops out of Iraq while protecting abortion rights. The other wants to stay the course in Iraq as long as necessary while being Pro-life, though not to the extent we would like. Neither choice is ideal.
I would be really curious to know how these Catholics who are so critical of our policies under George Bush will vote this November. Will they place the several thousand lives lost in war in Iraq over the millions of lives lost here in the United States through abortion? If so, I can no longer take any of their arguments seriously. To vote for a pro-abortion Democrat over a pro-life Republican strictly based on trying to save lives is hypocrisy.
Every human life is precious beyond measure, whether it be a soldier in Iraq or a baby in its mother’s womb. On this Memorial Day, we pray for the souls of those who have died in the war and those in the womb. We pray for the families who bear the pain of loss. May their suffering be united to the suffering of Our Lord for the remission of sins and may God have mercy on us all.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Some Conservative Talk
My job allows me to catch short segments on talk radio as I drive from point to point. Recently, I heard the morning show hosts discussing particular elements of Catholic teaching as apparently presented by one of the many so-called experts commenting on Pope Benedict’s visit to the United States. The gist of his comments were as follows: According to Catholic teaching, God made sexual relations pleasurable so that man would have a desire to reproduce, and having sexual relations strictly for pleasure is a sin. He went on to propose that God made eating pleasurable so that man would take nourishment for survival, and therefore, for Catholics, eating strictly for pleasure is also a sin. The co-host, who happens to be the host’s wife, responded by saying, “I’m sure glad we are Protestants! How can Catholics even enjoy a candy bar?”
These comments were made in a light-hearted way, but underneath, one detects the commonly held stereotypical notion that many Catholic beliefs are nonsense. The host making this observation is politically conservative. I am sure he would tell you he believes in a strict interpretation of the Constitution. He gets upset when judges legislate from the bench through liberal interpretations of the law. He disdains liberal protesters who undermine our nation and disrespect authority. He has great respect for the Founding Fathers, and for the Office of the Presidency. He is Pro-Life. He is a solid upstanding American.
It seems to me that anyone who considers himself a politically conservative Christian ought to be Catholic! One who holds the Office of the Presidency in high regard should hold the Office of the Papacy even higher. One who respects the wisdom of the Founding Fathers should also respect the wisdom of the Church Fathers. One who does not like judges interpreting law to suit their own political beliefs should not tolerate preachers interpreting the Bible to suit their own religious beliefs. One who respects the law of the land should also respect the doctrines of the Church.
When conservatives defend their Second Amendment Rights, liberals will often say the founders were thinking of muskets when they established the right to bear arms. The liberal says times have changed and interpretations of that law need to be adapted to the world in which we now live while the conservative holds fast to the historical interpretation. While the conservative remains firm against gun control, today he is unlikely to take a stand against artificial birth control. Yet prior to 1930, artificial birth control was taboo even for most Protestants. Do they realize how much their Scriptural interpretations have strayed from historical Christianity?
It’s been nearly 500 years since Luther started the Protestant revolt. Since then, split after split has taken much of Christianity far from its Catholic roots. For many Protestants today, Catholicism is no longer on their radar screen. They do not recognize the historical Church and therefore do not give it consideration. Self-interpretation of Scripture has enabled them to become worldly. This secularization is now so ingrained that relinquishing any of the acquired worldly pleasures in submission to a higher authority is unacceptable to them.
Conservatives yearning for absolute truth, respecting the clear demarcation between right and wrong, willing to place the good of the nation ahead of their personal agenda, yielding to the written law and those who protect it, would also find great spiritual comfort in the Catholic Faith. Our forefathers rejected the authority of the British to rule over us. The British rejected the authority of the Church to govern their spiritual life. The challenge to conservative ideals resulting from a self-centered rejection of the common good, may be rooted in a self-centered rejection of an authoritative Church.
I would like to challenge the political conservatives to take their conservatism one step farther. Take a serious look at the one true Church, established and given authority by Jesus Christ Himself. If you believe our nation was founded on Christian principles, and you believe in holding fast to those principles without capitulation, you should also pledge allegiance to the only Church that has continued to hold fast to those Christian principles without capitulation. To be consistently a true conservative and a true Christian requires allegiance to our Nation and fidelity to the Catholic Church.
My job allows me to catch short segments on talk radio as I drive from point to point. Recently, I heard the morning show hosts discussing particular elements of Catholic teaching as apparently presented by one of the many so-called experts commenting on Pope Benedict’s visit to the United States. The gist of his comments were as follows: According to Catholic teaching, God made sexual relations pleasurable so that man would have a desire to reproduce, and having sexual relations strictly for pleasure is a sin. He went on to propose that God made eating pleasurable so that man would take nourishment for survival, and therefore, for Catholics, eating strictly for pleasure is also a sin. The co-host, who happens to be the host’s wife, responded by saying, “I’m sure glad we are Protestants! How can Catholics even enjoy a candy bar?”
These comments were made in a light-hearted way, but underneath, one detects the commonly held stereotypical notion that many Catholic beliefs are nonsense. The host making this observation is politically conservative. I am sure he would tell you he believes in a strict interpretation of the Constitution. He gets upset when judges legislate from the bench through liberal interpretations of the law. He disdains liberal protesters who undermine our nation and disrespect authority. He has great respect for the Founding Fathers, and for the Office of the Presidency. He is Pro-Life. He is a solid upstanding American.
It seems to me that anyone who considers himself a politically conservative Christian ought to be Catholic! One who holds the Office of the Presidency in high regard should hold the Office of the Papacy even higher. One who respects the wisdom of the Founding Fathers should also respect the wisdom of the Church Fathers. One who does not like judges interpreting law to suit their own political beliefs should not tolerate preachers interpreting the Bible to suit their own religious beliefs. One who respects the law of the land should also respect the doctrines of the Church.
When conservatives defend their Second Amendment Rights, liberals will often say the founders were thinking of muskets when they established the right to bear arms. The liberal says times have changed and interpretations of that law need to be adapted to the world in which we now live while the conservative holds fast to the historical interpretation. While the conservative remains firm against gun control, today he is unlikely to take a stand against artificial birth control. Yet prior to 1930, artificial birth control was taboo even for most Protestants. Do they realize how much their Scriptural interpretations have strayed from historical Christianity?
It’s been nearly 500 years since Luther started the Protestant revolt. Since then, split after split has taken much of Christianity far from its Catholic roots. For many Protestants today, Catholicism is no longer on their radar screen. They do not recognize the historical Church and therefore do not give it consideration. Self-interpretation of Scripture has enabled them to become worldly. This secularization is now so ingrained that relinquishing any of the acquired worldly pleasures in submission to a higher authority is unacceptable to them.
Conservatives yearning for absolute truth, respecting the clear demarcation between right and wrong, willing to place the good of the nation ahead of their personal agenda, yielding to the written law and those who protect it, would also find great spiritual comfort in the Catholic Faith. Our forefathers rejected the authority of the British to rule over us. The British rejected the authority of the Church to govern their spiritual life. The challenge to conservative ideals resulting from a self-centered rejection of the common good, may be rooted in a self-centered rejection of an authoritative Church.
I would like to challenge the political conservatives to take their conservatism one step farther. Take a serious look at the one true Church, established and given authority by Jesus Christ Himself. If you believe our nation was founded on Christian principles, and you believe in holding fast to those principles without capitulation, you should also pledge allegiance to the only Church that has continued to hold fast to those Christian principles without capitulation. To be consistently a true conservative and a true Christian requires allegiance to our Nation and fidelity to the Catholic Church.
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