Batten Down the Hatches
Being a catechist to sixth, seventh, and eighth graders is proving to be a challenge. They are attentive, but lacking a strong Catholic foundation. I am concerned that many of them will likely abandon the Catholic Faith at some point. Some of their parents have already done so. We are following a good Catholic text book appropriate for their grade level, but I sense a major disconnect between spirituality and their everyday lives. I have talked to them about praying every morning and evening and at other times in between. I have talked to them about reverent behavior in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. They listen, but I have yet to sense any change.
I suspect they view the Catholic Church as just one of many denominations, one that many consider old-fashioned, boring and impossible to understand. I want them to know that the Catholic Church is THE Church and the others are knockoffs. I mean no disrespect in using that term. Sometimes knockoffs can look more attractive than the originals, but we should not be fooled. In what might be considered an act of desperation, I have tried to impress upon them how fortunate they are to be Catholic. If they get nothing else out of this class, perhaps I can convince them that the safest place to be if you want to get to heaven is in the Catholic Church. I told them the following story.
Imagine a huge ship crossing the ocean sailing toward its home port. Onboard is a captain and crew along with thousands of passengers. For a while, everything is fine on the ship. Despite the long voyage, passengers are patiently content to know they will reach their destination safely. But after a time, some of those onboard grow restless. They begin to murmur about certain conditions on the ship. Some do not like taking orders from the captain. Others complain that they are not being fed properly. Still others think they should not have to do any work.
One night, some of the protestors decided to leave the ship and set sail on their own. They commandeered materials and supplies from the ship’s hull and loaded them into a lifeboat. When they got everything they thought they needed, they boarded the lifeboat and cut themselves loose from the ship. At last, they were free of having to follow the orders of the captain and crew. By dawn, they had drifted some distance from the ship, but could still be heard singing merrily of their newfound freedom.
Everything was good on the lifeboat until it came time to divvy up chores. Disputes arose among those onboard, only this time, there was no one with the authority to resolve them. The biggest and loudest got their way and others became disgruntled. One night, the malcontents fashioned a raft from materials in the lifeboat, loaded it with necessities and broke away. A few took life preservers and actually set out by themselves.
All were doing okay until they encountered rough seas. The sky darkened as an approaching storm took aim on the homebound vessels. The huge ship battened down the hatches and maintained full speed ahead. Those safely inside were barely aware of the storm as the massive ship held its course. Some who chose to ignore the captain’s warning stayed on deck, and were swept overboard and lost.
Those in the lifeboat held on for dear life as the vessel yawed in the heavy seas. As they were tossed about, some lost their grip and were thrust overboard. Others managed to hang on until calmer waters prevailed. Very few of the raft dwellers survived and no one knows what happened to the others.
The Catholic Church is like that huge ship. Jesus commissioned the ship and gave authority to its captain and crew. He promised us that rough seas would not prevail against his ship. For a very long time, that ship was the only vessel. Much later, some did not like what they captain and crew were doing and rather than help fix the problems, they elected to jump ship. In doing so, they had to leave the sacraments behind. Now they are bobbing along in rough seas without a captain to lead them safely. They claim they have everything they need to survive, but do they? And where did they get it? Everything they have came from the ship. If they do not trust in the captain and crew, how do they know what came from the ship is trustworthy?
How fortunate we all are to be Catholic! We do not need to worry about being in peril if we stay onboard. Today, many swimmers are trying desperately to get back on the ship. We are already there. All we have to do is listen to what the captain is telling us. He speaks in our best interest. Those who remain firm will arrive safely. We pray that others may too. We would joyfully welcome them aboard.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
God’s Hospital
People who leave the Catholic Church often cite sin within the Church as a reason for leaving. The sex abuse scandal did tremendous damage to the reputation of priests, even though a very small percentage were involved. Our own parish priest was the recipient of a verbal insult from a stranger while walking down a street in New York City. It’s no wonder some priests do not like to don the collar in public.
People who abandon the Church because of sin within the Church need to think about the reason Christ established a Church in the first place. If it weren’t for sin, we would not need a Church. As disease is to the body, sin is to the soul. The Church is like a hospital for sinners. We turn to the Church to maintain our spiritual health and to be healed when our health has failed. As preventive medicine for our spiritual health, we need to go in for treatment at least once a week.
Our bodies need regular nourishment to thrive. Likewise, our souls need regular nourishment too. Weekly infusions of grace are necessary to maintain and enhance spiritual growth. Without it, we become weak and prone to failure. The Sacraments provide us with life-sustaining grace needed to maintain spiritual health.
Even doctors occasionally get sick. They may be so consumed caring for other patients that they ignore their own symptoms. Doctors are just like the rest of us, and even though their knowledge of the human body should enable them to take better care of themselves, their health can still fail. When this happens, we do not assume the hospital is at fault. And so it is with the Church. Even though priests should have superior spiritual health, they can still fall into sin, even grave sin. When it happens, it is foolish to use their sin as a reason to leave. One should not reject Peter because of Judas.
The Catholic Church is authorized to speak for God and everyone in this world ought to listen if they are seriously interested in spiritual health. Not only is that a tough statement for non-catholics to stomach, but also for many Catholics who prefer to make their own judgments. Any extensive apologetic dialogue with a Protestant or lukewarm Catholic will eventually get around to defending Church authority, and all Catholics need to be well versed in understanding this biblical truth.
This past Sunday, we heard readings from Isaiah 22:19-23 and Matthew 16:13-20, two of the most often cited bible passages concerning the origin of Church authority. In the first reading, the office of master of the palace in the Kingdom of David is being passed from Shebna to Eliakim. Kings and queens typically have prime ministers authorized to run the day-to-day operations of the kingdom. In this case, the Lord says, “I will place the key of the House of David on Eliakim’s shoulder; when he opens, no one shall shut, when he shuts, no one shall open.” This office in the kingdom of David pre-figures the authoritative office given to Peter in Matthew 16 when Jesus said, “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." This authority to bind and loose was later given to all the apostles, but only Peter was given the keys to the kingdom, and that primacy of authority was passed on to his successors continuing to Benedict XVI today.
Those of us who dabble in Catholic apologetics are very familiar with these Bible verses. I wonder how many average Catholics in the pew would be able to explain Matthew 16 where Jesus says, “You are Peter and upon this rock . . .”? How many understand the common objections to Peter being the rock, and how to explain the passage correctly in light of the translation from Aramaic to Greek and to English? For the typical cafeteria Catholic, coming to an understanding of Matthew 16 can be a real eye-opener. If you are a regular listener to the Catholic Answers Live radio program, you probably hear this explained frequently in response to caller’s questions. Sadly, I don’t think I have ever heard it explained from the pulpit.
People who leave the Catholic Church often cite sin within the Church as a reason for leaving. The sex abuse scandal did tremendous damage to the reputation of priests, even though a very small percentage were involved. Our own parish priest was the recipient of a verbal insult from a stranger while walking down a street in New York City. It’s no wonder some priests do not like to don the collar in public.
People who abandon the Church because of sin within the Church need to think about the reason Christ established a Church in the first place. If it weren’t for sin, we would not need a Church. As disease is to the body, sin is to the soul. The Church is like a hospital for sinners. We turn to the Church to maintain our spiritual health and to be healed when our health has failed. As preventive medicine for our spiritual health, we need to go in for treatment at least once a week.
Our bodies need regular nourishment to thrive. Likewise, our souls need regular nourishment too. Weekly infusions of grace are necessary to maintain and enhance spiritual growth. Without it, we become weak and prone to failure. The Sacraments provide us with life-sustaining grace needed to maintain spiritual health.
Even doctors occasionally get sick. They may be so consumed caring for other patients that they ignore their own symptoms. Doctors are just like the rest of us, and even though their knowledge of the human body should enable them to take better care of themselves, their health can still fail. When this happens, we do not assume the hospital is at fault. And so it is with the Church. Even though priests should have superior spiritual health, they can still fall into sin, even grave sin. When it happens, it is foolish to use their sin as a reason to leave. One should not reject Peter because of Judas.
The Catholic Church is authorized to speak for God and everyone in this world ought to listen if they are seriously interested in spiritual health. Not only is that a tough statement for non-catholics to stomach, but also for many Catholics who prefer to make their own judgments. Any extensive apologetic dialogue with a Protestant or lukewarm Catholic will eventually get around to defending Church authority, and all Catholics need to be well versed in understanding this biblical truth.
This past Sunday, we heard readings from Isaiah 22:19-23 and Matthew 16:13-20, two of the most often cited bible passages concerning the origin of Church authority. In the first reading, the office of master of the palace in the Kingdom of David is being passed from Shebna to Eliakim. Kings and queens typically have prime ministers authorized to run the day-to-day operations of the kingdom. In this case, the Lord says, “I will place the key of the House of David on Eliakim’s shoulder; when he opens, no one shall shut, when he shuts, no one shall open.” This office in the kingdom of David pre-figures the authoritative office given to Peter in Matthew 16 when Jesus said, “I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." This authority to bind and loose was later given to all the apostles, but only Peter was given the keys to the kingdom, and that primacy of authority was passed on to his successors continuing to Benedict XVI today.
Those of us who dabble in Catholic apologetics are very familiar with these Bible verses. I wonder how many average Catholics in the pew would be able to explain Matthew 16 where Jesus says, “You are Peter and upon this rock . . .”? How many understand the common objections to Peter being the rock, and how to explain the passage correctly in light of the translation from Aramaic to Greek and to English? For the typical cafeteria Catholic, coming to an understanding of Matthew 16 can be a real eye-opener. If you are a regular listener to the Catholic Answers Live radio program, you probably hear this explained frequently in response to caller’s questions. Sadly, I don’t think I have ever heard it explained from the pulpit.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Summery Summary
Summertime has given me time to reflect. When the RCIA class I monitored ended in May, I was left feeling some disappointment. My idea of what catechumens need was much different from what was being presented in class. I was supposed to be a catechist, but I did very little catechesis. Our priest often ventured into deep theological, philosophical, and sociological lectures during the class. I remember in particular a talk on utilitarianism near the end that left everyone looking dazed. At the end of our last class, Father asked if there were any questions. A young lady spoke up asking about how and when to genuflect. Unfortunately, we never got around to some of the basics.
Now, Father has asked me to teach a 6th grade CCD class beginning this fall. I much prefer working with adults, but this will give me an opportunity to take a more active role. My daughter, who will be starting a job as a middle-school math teacher, is going to assist. In reality, she will probably be the better teacher since the generation gap between her and the students is much narrower than mine.
I would like to invite the parents to attend the class with their children. Some might say having parents in the same room could inhibit the 12 to 14 year-old students from speaking their minds and asking touchy questions. While that does concern me, I also think it would be good to let them see faith formation as a family activity. One of the problems we face is that many of the parents have themselves been poorly formed in the faith. Some of them drop their children off for class and never attend Mass with them. Might this be an opportunity to touch them also.
My biggest goal is not necessarily to have them grasp every tenet of the Catholic faith. I cannot possibly teach them everything they need to know in the short amount of time I will see them each week. Rather, I want to get them excited. I want them to attend class with anticipation and not dread. I want to pique their curiosity and desire to learn more. I want them to understand how fortunate they are to be Catholic. I want them to be confident and wear their Catholic faith on their sleeves. In fact, I was thinking about having t-shirts made with the word Catholic on the sleeves.
I am concerned that Sunday Mass attendance at our small parish has noticeably decreased since Easter, so much so that our pastor posted a sign on the marquee saying, “There’s no vacation from God.” Some of our parishioners are attending other parishes for reasons only they can explain. Others just don’t see the necessity to attend Mass on a regular basis. We are not doing a very good job of spreading the gospel. Our church is by far the tallest building in town, yet we seem to be invisible.
I just finished reading a book by Dion Dimucci and Mike Aquilina called Dion: The Wanderer Talks Truth. For you youngsters out there (as Ed Sullivan used to say), Dion was one of the great rock singer-songwriters of the 1960’s and beyond. Like many of the rock stars of that era, his life has been a wild ride that occasionally veered out of control. Unlike many of the rock stars of that era, Dion survived to find God and peace in the Catholic Church.
Although Dion grew up in a family that did not practice the faith, he was influenced as a young rebellious teenager by a priest who would often stand in front of the church and ask Dion thought provoking questions as he passed by. Though not taken seriously at the time, the priest made an impression that stuck with Dion for many years. He was also struck by the sight of his father-in-law kneeling in prayer. We Catholics, both laity and clergy, need to be a visible presence in our communities. By projecting a positive image, we may plant a seed that will bear fruit many years down the road, as it did in Dion’s case.
I hope to have a positive influence on the young students in the CCD class. I do not expect them to be completely receptive at this age, but maybe something will stay with them as go through life. Their faith will be challenged in this world where relativism is running rampant. Following Christ and His Church runs counter to our politically correct society. We need to arm our children for battle before it’s too late.
Summertime has given me time to reflect. When the RCIA class I monitored ended in May, I was left feeling some disappointment. My idea of what catechumens need was much different from what was being presented in class. I was supposed to be a catechist, but I did very little catechesis. Our priest often ventured into deep theological, philosophical, and sociological lectures during the class. I remember in particular a talk on utilitarianism near the end that left everyone looking dazed. At the end of our last class, Father asked if there were any questions. A young lady spoke up asking about how and when to genuflect. Unfortunately, we never got around to some of the basics.
Now, Father has asked me to teach a 6th grade CCD class beginning this fall. I much prefer working with adults, but this will give me an opportunity to take a more active role. My daughter, who will be starting a job as a middle-school math teacher, is going to assist. In reality, she will probably be the better teacher since the generation gap between her and the students is much narrower than mine.
I would like to invite the parents to attend the class with their children. Some might say having parents in the same room could inhibit the 12 to 14 year-old students from speaking their minds and asking touchy questions. While that does concern me, I also think it would be good to let them see faith formation as a family activity. One of the problems we face is that many of the parents have themselves been poorly formed in the faith. Some of them drop their children off for class and never attend Mass with them. Might this be an opportunity to touch them also.
My biggest goal is not necessarily to have them grasp every tenet of the Catholic faith. I cannot possibly teach them everything they need to know in the short amount of time I will see them each week. Rather, I want to get them excited. I want them to attend class with anticipation and not dread. I want to pique their curiosity and desire to learn more. I want them to understand how fortunate they are to be Catholic. I want them to be confident and wear their Catholic faith on their sleeves. In fact, I was thinking about having t-shirts made with the word Catholic on the sleeves.
I am concerned that Sunday Mass attendance at our small parish has noticeably decreased since Easter, so much so that our pastor posted a sign on the marquee saying, “There’s no vacation from God.” Some of our parishioners are attending other parishes for reasons only they can explain. Others just don’t see the necessity to attend Mass on a regular basis. We are not doing a very good job of spreading the gospel. Our church is by far the tallest building in town, yet we seem to be invisible.
I just finished reading a book by Dion Dimucci and Mike Aquilina called Dion: The Wanderer Talks Truth. For you youngsters out there (as Ed Sullivan used to say), Dion was one of the great rock singer-songwriters of the 1960’s and beyond. Like many of the rock stars of that era, his life has been a wild ride that occasionally veered out of control. Unlike many of the rock stars of that era, Dion survived to find God and peace in the Catholic Church.
Although Dion grew up in a family that did not practice the faith, he was influenced as a young rebellious teenager by a priest who would often stand in front of the church and ask Dion thought provoking questions as he passed by. Though not taken seriously at the time, the priest made an impression that stuck with Dion for many years. He was also struck by the sight of his father-in-law kneeling in prayer. We Catholics, both laity and clergy, need to be a visible presence in our communities. By projecting a positive image, we may plant a seed that will bear fruit many years down the road, as it did in Dion’s case.
I hope to have a positive influence on the young students in the CCD class. I do not expect them to be completely receptive at this age, but maybe something will stay with them as go through life. Their faith will be challenged in this world where relativism is running rampant. Following Christ and His Church runs counter to our politically correct society. We need to arm our children for battle before it’s too late.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Jesus and Superman
Growing up in the 1950’s, I loved watching the Superman TV series with George Reeves starring as Clark Kent and the man of steel. Many of the plotlines involved around Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane trying to uncover Superman’s real identity. While I was on the edge of my seat, my father was laughing hysterically that these hotshot reporters at the Daily Planet were completely baffled when Superman donned a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. How could they be so blind? Just to get back at my dad, I used to pretend I didn’t recognize him when he put on his reading glasses.
Jimmy and Lois did occasionally suspect Clark Kent might be Superman, because Clark always managed to disappear just before Superman arrived, but not because he looked exactly like Superman with glasses. I do remember one episode where Superman was able to bi-locate, a trick he may have learned from Padre Pio.
It occurred to me that we are often similarly blind to God’s existence in our daily surroundings. I was at Eucharistic Adoration looking at a candle flickering near the Monstrance, and thinking about fire. We take it for granted, but how mysterious it looks in giving off its light and heat as it consumes combustible matter. I envisioned God saying, “Watch this!” to the angels as he ignited the first flame. “Woe!”, an angel may have replied in awe. “My creatures are going to need this”, God may have stated. How is it that fire does what it does, that it exists, that certain matter is combustible?
How is it that tons of wood can come from a little acorn? Why do things grow? Most of us take these things for granted without questioning why they are possible or what would happen if they did not exist. We grow up observing things the way they are, often without realizing the supernatural origin behind it all.
What would happen if matter did not attract matter? How would we live without gravity? What if we did not develop eyes that detect light and allow us to process clear visions of what is in front of us? Why do we have two eyes giving us depth perception instead of one or three? What exists that we did not develop sensory organs to detect? Now, that’s an interesting question. Is there a sensory organ to detect spirits that we never developed?
I have similar thoughts while listening to the radio. How is it I can hear what someone else is saying so many miles away? We understand man’s ability to develop new technology by exploring the sciences, but where did we get the properties that allow these things to work for us? We uncover these abilities often without recognizing their supernatural origin.
Considering man’s propensity for missing the obvious, having difficulty recognizing Our Lord disguised as a piece of bread becomes somewhat understandable. His Real Presence is certainly not evident by appearance. Perhaps it is no wonder that many people treat the Eucharist lightly.
This Sunday, we celebrate the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ. John chapter 6, verses 51 to 58 will be read at Mass, where Jesus explains with emphasis that His Flesh is real food and His Blood is real drink. Unless we eat His Flesh and drink His Blood, we have no life in us. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Yet, even as Jesus Himself explained this reality to his followers, many doubted and walked away. There are many among us today who have done the same.
We as Catholics have this great gift, yet many of us turn away or take it for granted. This is a great time to dust off our Bibles, and ponder what Jesus says in John 6. Unlike Superman, the identity of the One disguised as bread is no secret.
Growing up in the 1950’s, I loved watching the Superman TV series with George Reeves starring as Clark Kent and the man of steel. Many of the plotlines involved around Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane trying to uncover Superman’s real identity. While I was on the edge of my seat, my father was laughing hysterically that these hotshot reporters at the Daily Planet were completely baffled when Superman donned a pair of horn-rimmed glasses. How could they be so blind? Just to get back at my dad, I used to pretend I didn’t recognize him when he put on his reading glasses.
Jimmy and Lois did occasionally suspect Clark Kent might be Superman, because Clark always managed to disappear just before Superman arrived, but not because he looked exactly like Superman with glasses. I do remember one episode where Superman was able to bi-locate, a trick he may have learned from Padre Pio.
It occurred to me that we are often similarly blind to God’s existence in our daily surroundings. I was at Eucharistic Adoration looking at a candle flickering near the Monstrance, and thinking about fire. We take it for granted, but how mysterious it looks in giving off its light and heat as it consumes combustible matter. I envisioned God saying, “Watch this!” to the angels as he ignited the first flame. “Woe!”, an angel may have replied in awe. “My creatures are going to need this”, God may have stated. How is it that fire does what it does, that it exists, that certain matter is combustible?
How is it that tons of wood can come from a little acorn? Why do things grow? Most of us take these things for granted without questioning why they are possible or what would happen if they did not exist. We grow up observing things the way they are, often without realizing the supernatural origin behind it all.
What would happen if matter did not attract matter? How would we live without gravity? What if we did not develop eyes that detect light and allow us to process clear visions of what is in front of us? Why do we have two eyes giving us depth perception instead of one or three? What exists that we did not develop sensory organs to detect? Now, that’s an interesting question. Is there a sensory organ to detect spirits that we never developed?
I have similar thoughts while listening to the radio. How is it I can hear what someone else is saying so many miles away? We understand man’s ability to develop new technology by exploring the sciences, but where did we get the properties that allow these things to work for us? We uncover these abilities often without recognizing their supernatural origin.
Considering man’s propensity for missing the obvious, having difficulty recognizing Our Lord disguised as a piece of bread becomes somewhat understandable. His Real Presence is certainly not evident by appearance. Perhaps it is no wonder that many people treat the Eucharist lightly.
This Sunday, we celebrate the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ. John chapter 6, verses 51 to 58 will be read at Mass, where Jesus explains with emphasis that His Flesh is real food and His Blood is real drink. Unless we eat His Flesh and drink His Blood, we have no life in us. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Yet, even as Jesus Himself explained this reality to his followers, many doubted and walked away. There are many among us today who have done the same.
We as Catholics have this great gift, yet many of us turn away or take it for granted. This is a great time to dust off our Bibles, and ponder what Jesus says in John 6. Unlike Superman, the identity of the One disguised as bread is no secret.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
That Old Time Religion
Last month, I wrote about the one-hundredth anniversary of our church building. On June 5th, our parish will celebrate the rededication at a special Sunday Mass. A committee has been planning this event for some time. I was assigned several tasks, the biggest being to assemble a booklet to commemorate the occasion. The booklet has been completed and sent to the printer. I am fairly pleased at the way it turned out and hope others will be also.
As music ministers, my wife and I were asked to meet with members of the committee this morning to discuss music they want played at the rededication Mass. In view of the recent Ecclesia Dei commission instruction urging bishops and priests to respond generously to Catholics requesting the traditional Latin Mass, I thought it would be interesting to celebrate the rededication liturgy much like the dedication Mass would have been celebrated back on May 28, 1911. That idea was shot down very quickly when the committee members showed us a list that began with the words, “No Latin.” I felt like Charlie Brown being instructed by Lucy to go out and find a nice shiny aluminum Christmas tree. So much for celebrating old traditions. Oh well, I am sure our pastor could not have been prepared to say Mass in Latin on short notice anyway.
The committee chose three hymns (or songs, depending on who you ask): The Church’s One Foundation, because it has the words church and foundation, Christ Be Our Light, because it has the words, building and walls made of stone, and Be Not Afraid, because . . . . well, I don’t know why – maybe to assure everyone the building is still sturdy.
Our history does not reveal what music may have been sung at the original dedication one hundred years ago, but a program printed in the local newspaper listed four selections sung at the laying of the cornerstone in 1910. One was Like as a Father Pitieth His Children, a hymn based on Psalm 103:13. I found several hymns online with that title. The problem is figuring out which one they may have sung in 1910. One is by F. H. Cowen, and another by William J. Kirkpatrick. The most likely selection is the one by Italian composer, Luigi Cherubini who was known for his sacred music. I am opting for Cherubini because of the large population of Italian immigrants in our parish at the time, and the fact that the next selection in the program was O Italia, Italia, Beloved.
Also on the program 100 years ago was Veni Creator which we will be singing the following week for the Pentecost Sequence. The final selection noted was The Radiant Morn Hath Passed Away, with words by Godfrey Thring and a melody referred to as St. Gabriel. I have listened to renditions of both Like as a Father, and The Radiant Morn on the Internet. They are both very beautiful hymns and I think it would be interesting to have our choir learn them, perhaps to sing as a prelude to the Rededication Mass. Time is running short, however, and we do not yet have the music.
I was amused by the sentence structure in Psalm 103:13, and therefore also in the hymn. I envisioned the translator thinking, “Okay, is this a simile or a metaphor? I think it’s a simile, so I should use “Like”, . . . or should it be “As”? Which sounds better, “Like a father, or As a father? Let’s see. One is a preposition and one is a conjunction. Which one do I need here? Oh, I don’t have time for this. I’ll just put them both in. Like as a Father . . . ”
Just for the record, my NAB omits the “Like” and says more plainly, “As a Father . . .”. Nothing like a little Bible humor to end the day. (Or is it, Nothing as a little Bible humor . . .?)
Last month, I wrote about the one-hundredth anniversary of our church building. On June 5th, our parish will celebrate the rededication at a special Sunday Mass. A committee has been planning this event for some time. I was assigned several tasks, the biggest being to assemble a booklet to commemorate the occasion. The booklet has been completed and sent to the printer. I am fairly pleased at the way it turned out and hope others will be also.
As music ministers, my wife and I were asked to meet with members of the committee this morning to discuss music they want played at the rededication Mass. In view of the recent Ecclesia Dei commission instruction urging bishops and priests to respond generously to Catholics requesting the traditional Latin Mass, I thought it would be interesting to celebrate the rededication liturgy much like the dedication Mass would have been celebrated back on May 28, 1911. That idea was shot down very quickly when the committee members showed us a list that began with the words, “No Latin.” I felt like Charlie Brown being instructed by Lucy to go out and find a nice shiny aluminum Christmas tree. So much for celebrating old traditions. Oh well, I am sure our pastor could not have been prepared to say Mass in Latin on short notice anyway.
The committee chose three hymns (or songs, depending on who you ask): The Church’s One Foundation, because it has the words church and foundation, Christ Be Our Light, because it has the words, building and walls made of stone, and Be Not Afraid, because . . . . well, I don’t know why – maybe to assure everyone the building is still sturdy.
Our history does not reveal what music may have been sung at the original dedication one hundred years ago, but a program printed in the local newspaper listed four selections sung at the laying of the cornerstone in 1910. One was Like as a Father Pitieth His Children, a hymn based on Psalm 103:13. I found several hymns online with that title. The problem is figuring out which one they may have sung in 1910. One is by F. H. Cowen, and another by William J. Kirkpatrick. The most likely selection is the one by Italian composer, Luigi Cherubini who was known for his sacred music. I am opting for Cherubini because of the large population of Italian immigrants in our parish at the time, and the fact that the next selection in the program was O Italia, Italia, Beloved.
Also on the program 100 years ago was Veni Creator which we will be singing the following week for the Pentecost Sequence. The final selection noted was The Radiant Morn Hath Passed Away, with words by Godfrey Thring and a melody referred to as St. Gabriel. I have listened to renditions of both Like as a Father, and The Radiant Morn on the Internet. They are both very beautiful hymns and I think it would be interesting to have our choir learn them, perhaps to sing as a prelude to the Rededication Mass. Time is running short, however, and we do not yet have the music.
I was amused by the sentence structure in Psalm 103:13, and therefore also in the hymn. I envisioned the translator thinking, “Okay, is this a simile or a metaphor? I think it’s a simile, so I should use “Like”, . . . or should it be “As”? Which sounds better, “Like a father, or As a father? Let’s see. One is a preposition and one is a conjunction. Which one do I need here? Oh, I don’t have time for this. I’ll just put them both in. Like as a Father . . . ”
Just for the record, my NAB omits the “Like” and says more plainly, “As a Father . . .”. Nothing like a little Bible humor to end the day. (Or is it, Nothing as a little Bible humor . . .?)
Sunday, April 24, 2011
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be
Our parish is celebrating the one-hundredth anniversary of the construction of our church building. A rededication is coming up in June and I have been given the assignment of compiling a booklet to be distributed in commemoration of the event. The deadline is quickly approaching and I am feeling the pressure to get it finished. One of our parishioners helped me greatly by researching old newspapers that followed the progress of construction a century ago. I sit here bemoaning the fact that I have this extremely difficult task of sitting on my soft cushy chair in front of the computer, copying and pasting pictures and articles about my ancestors working with teams of horses to move sand, brick and mortar in the heat of a hot summer with no air conditioning, power tools, or hydraulic lifts.
What a monumental task it must have been to undertake such a project in those days. Not only did they build this beautiful brick Romanesque church, they also constructed a four-room school across the street at the same time. What did it take to move forward with such a project in 1910? They started with $5000, and carried a $40,000 mortgage for twenty years. I doubt that one of the stained glass windows could be replaced for $45,000 today.
Times have certainly changed. As technology has made life so much easier, somehow it seems more difficult to get things accomplished. I cannot even imagine our parish taking on such a project today. Money is always an issue. Our quality of life has improved greatly, but at a price. We no longer gather as teams to roll up sleeves and tackle laborious projects. I suppose the Amish people still do to an extent with their barn raisings. Such an atmosphere existed here when our church was constructed one hundred years ago. The records tell of parishioners gathering on Easter Sunday 1910 after Mass to begin tearing down the old frame church. The new building was completed and ready for the first Mass by Easter 1911.
On this Easter Sunday in 2011, we are blessed to prepare for a second century of worship in our beautiful church. There have been a few changes. The exterior remains pretty much the same except for an access ramp added a few years ago. The interior has undergone several renovations, some good, some not so good. The stained glass windows are as beautiful and colorfully vivid as the day they were installed. The liturgy looks a little different, but the Sacrifice of the Mass is still the same Sacrifice of Calvary, made present for us every day. Some things never change.
Our parish is celebrating the one-hundredth anniversary of the construction of our church building. A rededication is coming up in June and I have been given the assignment of compiling a booklet to be distributed in commemoration of the event. The deadline is quickly approaching and I am feeling the pressure to get it finished. One of our parishioners helped me greatly by researching old newspapers that followed the progress of construction a century ago. I sit here bemoaning the fact that I have this extremely difficult task of sitting on my soft cushy chair in front of the computer, copying and pasting pictures and articles about my ancestors working with teams of horses to move sand, brick and mortar in the heat of a hot summer with no air conditioning, power tools, or hydraulic lifts.
What a monumental task it must have been to undertake such a project in those days. Not only did they build this beautiful brick Romanesque church, they also constructed a four-room school across the street at the same time. What did it take to move forward with such a project in 1910? They started with $5000, and carried a $40,000 mortgage for twenty years. I doubt that one of the stained glass windows could be replaced for $45,000 today.
Times have certainly changed. As technology has made life so much easier, somehow it seems more difficult to get things accomplished. I cannot even imagine our parish taking on such a project today. Money is always an issue. Our quality of life has improved greatly, but at a price. We no longer gather as teams to roll up sleeves and tackle laborious projects. I suppose the Amish people still do to an extent with their barn raisings. Such an atmosphere existed here when our church was constructed one hundred years ago. The records tell of parishioners gathering on Easter Sunday 1910 after Mass to begin tearing down the old frame church. The new building was completed and ready for the first Mass by Easter 1911.
On this Easter Sunday in 2011, we are blessed to prepare for a second century of worship in our beautiful church. There have been a few changes. The exterior remains pretty much the same except for an access ramp added a few years ago. The interior has undergone several renovations, some good, some not so good. The stained glass windows are as beautiful and colorfully vivid as the day they were installed. The liturgy looks a little different, but the Sacrifice of the Mass is still the same Sacrifice of Calvary, made present for us every day. Some things never change.
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