|
|
Saturday, December 5th, 2009
|
|
|
In our daily lives we all experience having little time for the Lord and also little time for ourselves. We end by being absorbed in "doing". Is it not true that activities often absorb us and that society with its multiple interests monopolizes our attention? Is it not true that we devote a lot of time to entertainment and to various kinds of amusement? At times we get carried away. Advent, this powerful liturgical season that we are beginning, invites us to pause in silence to understand a presence. It is an invitation to understand that the individual events of the day are hints that God is giving us, signs of the attention he has for each one of us. How often does God give us a glimpse of his love! To keep, as it were, an "interior journal" of this love would be a beautiful and salutary task for our life! Advent invites and stimulates us to contemplate the Lord present. Should not the certainty of his presence help us see the world with different eyes? Should it not help us to consider the whole of our life as a "visit", as a way in which he can come to us and become close to us in every situation?
Maybe another one of you can relate the experience of the joyous Christmas stillness, the fullness of the midnight hour, when the cry "Puer Natus Est!" reaches the ears of us. The great "gloria!" that is more like snow falling than thunder. Easter is the earthquake; Christmas is the great rest.
Deacons: Whom do you seek in the manger, O Shepherds, do say!
Shepherds: The Savior, Christ, the Lord, the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, according to the angelic word.
Deacons: This little one is present with Mary, His mother. Concerning Him the Prophet Isaiah foretold: Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a Son; say also, O Messengers, that He is born!
Alleluia, alleluia! Now truly we know Christ is born on the earth, sing, all people, say concerning Him: A child is born to us, a son is given, whose empire is upon His shoulders, and His name will be called: The Great Counselor!
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Monday, November 30th, 2009
|
|
|
As we commemorate the 40th anniversary of the Novus Ordo, I have a quick anecdote about the changes in mentality that it brought about.
I spoke with a lady today about why I tend to not receive communion from extraordinary ministers. She is a wonderful and nice lady. She represents the best of post-Vatican II piety -- someone whose faith is simply and quite simply formed by practice (lex ordandi constituit legem credendi). I mentioned to her about the relationship between the Eucharist and the priesthood, and how the entire Mass is a sacramental action. But she replied, "The priest is necessary to consecrate the Eucharist, but it doesn't cease to be the Eucharist when he sets it down." I mentioned the presence of Christ in the priest. She said: "Where is Christ more present? In the priest or in the host?" I spoke about the greater symbolism of Jesus sacramentally giving you Christ through the priest. She was unimpressed.
There is a new Eucharistic peity that has arisen in Catholic circles. This Eucharistic piety is neither entirely good nor entirely bad. One good part is that it fosters great interior love of the Mass. Because of it many people go to Mass to worship and receive Jesus. One bad part is that it can distract from what the Mass is what the priesthood is. The Mass is more, much more, than just the means to get the Eucharist. The priest in the Mass is more, much more, than just person who consecrates the Eucharist.
To turn baroque on you all, the Mass is a lot like an opera. Or, to use more ancient images, it is like a chorus: a sung dance in honor of God. Every part has meaning and symbolism. The difference between the Mass and an opera or a chorus is that every symbol in the Mass in one way or another conveys reality.
I tried to explain to this woman how I believe that many of the roles laypeople take up at Mass are priestly roles which are assigned to the layperson in place of the priest. This argument also seemed to not register. She replied, "It's all about relationship, isn't it?"
This mentality may have been aided by protestantism. Yes, ultimately what is important for my eternal soul is my relationship with God. That, however, does not reduce everything else to mere tools. The Church's worship, her sacraments, her practices: these are more than mere means for sanctification. They also constitute the material component of very meaningful acts of worship. The faith of the Church and the faith of the individuals who participate act as the form to the matter, but the matter is also important.
I explained to her that, for me personally, it was important to realize that I was receiving my Lord from someone who sacramentally stood in the place of my Lord.
After that she told me something I think is very important to her. The people who switched lines in the context of Mass were cold to her when she tried to greet them, or refused to make eye contact with her, or even acknowledge her presence. I defended them a little -- probably stronger than I should have. I told her that I personally did not like greeting people or talking in the holy space, but that I did it anyway.
There is a tendency of those switching lines to be standing in judgment over the priest and the ministers. This can be a sin of pride and a sin against the hierarchical order of the Church. It can be part of the Bad Spirit and can be very damaging. Those who simply do what everyone else does oftentimes have a better spirit about them, since it is a spirit of obedience, even where they are being obedient in the wrong places.
So I am left not quite knowing what to do. Practice needs to be changed, since practice informs believe. The only way for practice to be changed is for the sense of the faithful, formed by the leaders in the Christian community to demand it. Yet, if the faithful get above themselves and take onto themselves the duties of the priests and bishops, they could loose their souls. All and all it seems safer to not encourage people to do different things when it isn't necessary. Yet if we do not encourage people to change their practice, we will never achieve genuine reformation.
My conclusion can only be one thing: prayer, not argument, is the way to change things. If someone is the common practice, especially is the practice has the trappings of legitimacy, but it is nonetheless a wrongheaded or dangerous practice, we ought to quietly change our behavior, humbly trying not to have others notice it. We should also get down on our knees and pray.
People will notice. And they will be offended, if our lives don't radiate holiness and we aren't praying. If we are praying, on the other hand, God himself will open up the right doors and put us in the right circumstances to bring about change.
Many of the practices that came with the Novus Ordo or dangerous and ultimately deadly to faith. Many of the practices lost can greatly help faith. If we pray and assume humility, things will get better. If we assume unto ourselves the role of liturgical cop, nothing will ever improve, and we will have a lot to answer for on judgment day.
Thus say I, at least.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, November 29th, 2009
|
|
|
Witness the Difference: 1917 Code of Canon Law (My translation):Can 845 §1. The Ordinary Minister of Holy Communion is only the Priest §2. The extraordinary is the Deacon, by the permission of the ordinary of the place or parish, conceded for a grave reason, which [permission] is assumed in the case of necessity. 1983 Code of Canon LawCan. 910 §1 The ordinary minister of holy communion is a Bishop, a priest or a deacon.
§2 The extraordinary minister of holy communion is an acolyte, or another of Christ's faithful deputed in accordance with can. 230 §3. The explanation is given in the above cited canon 230:230 §3 Where the needs of the Church require and ministers are not available, lay people, even though they are not lectors or acolytes, can supply certain of their functions, that is, exercise the ministry of the word, preside over liturgical prayers, confer baptism and distribute Holy Communion, in accordance with the provisions of the law.
One should note, right off the bat, that this is a juridical not a theological distinction. The juridical nature of the Code of Canon law can be made clear by looking at Canon 1008 and 1009 which seems to indicate that deacons operate in Persona Christi Capitis. But this is quite an unusual theological opinion. I will discuss this more later.
The fact the Codes of Canon Law present two different answers to who the ordinary and extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion are is not, in fact, theologically problematic in and of itself, since it established juridical, not theological, categories. It is, thus, indisputable that the old law put deacons in the class of extraordinary ministers, and the new law in ordinary that of ordinary ministers. This does not imply that there is no theological difference in the role of deacon and priest any more than the previous Code of Canon Law implies that there is a theological difference between the role of deacon and priest. The theological question is simply a different question.
So let us ask the theological question. Let us start by posing questions. - Is there any theological distinction between ordinary and extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion?
- Is the concept of administering the sacrament a theological concept or a juridical concept?
- What does it mean to administer the Sacrament of Holy Communion?
- Is it a sacramental action to administer the sacrament of Holy Communion?
- Does it require sacramental power to administer the sacrament of Holy Communion?
- Does a priest, at least, act in persona Christi in administering this sacrament?
- What is the role of a deacon in administering the sacrament?
- what of a layperson ordained/instituted as an acolyte?
- What of a layperson unordained/uninistituted?
I can pose all these questions now, but I cannot give them the attention they deserve in this article. They require more thought to be properly addressed. Perhaps some day I'll be able to write a well researched essay giving my conclusive opinion, but for right now I can only play with these ideas. I will do so over a longer period of time in these short blog entries.
Later I will get back to the questions I posed above, but for right now I wish to give some of the officials statements of recent Church documents of the role of deacon.
According to Lumen Gentium no. 29, the role of the Deacon is to: administer Baptism solemnly [interestingly enough, the deacon is also the extraordinary minister of solemn baptism in the 1917 CIC], to be custodian and dispenser of the Eucharist, in the name of the Church to assist at and bless marriages, to bring Viaticum to the dying, to read the sacred Scriptures to the faithful, to instruct and exhort the people, to preside at the worship and prayer of the faithful, to administer sacramentals, and to officiate at funeral and burial services.
The Motu Proprio Sacrum Diaconatus Ordinem of Pope Paul VI issued June 18, 1967 also mentions (no. 29) that it pertains to the deacon, to the extent that he has been authorized by the local Ordinary to reserve the Eucharist and to distribute it to himself and to others, to bring it as Viaticum to the dying and to impart to the people benediction with the Blessed Sacrament and with the sacred ciborium.
These documents seem, at first glance, to stand in stark contrast with St. Thomas Aquinas' negative answer to the question whether deacons had the power to administer the sacrament of Holy Communion. On second glance, however, the difference is no so great. The 1917 CIC maintained in practice the same teaching that St. Thomas Aquinas held. The new terminology, Lumen Gentium, and Sacrum Diaconatus Ordinem do not destroy the previous thought. It can be argued that the Code of Canon Law gives universal permission to all deacons to act as ministers of Holy Communion at all times and places. This would be a modification of Sacrum Diaconatus Ordinem, but not a terribly problematic one.
The implication of these documents, however, is that who the minister is is merely a juridical question. I intend to argue strongly against that.
(Some information for this article was found at the following Web Pages: http://www.deacons.net/Articles/CanonLaw.htm http://diaconate-form.blogspot.com/2007/08/in-persona-christ-and-deacon.html)
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
I just caught an interview with Fr. Richard Cassidy, a professor of Sacred Scripture at Sacred Heart Major Seminary. As a scripture scholar, it is not surprising that he might come to a different view than I do, who am an a lover of liturgy (aka amateur liturgist), and an ordinary Catholic primarily concerned about discovering Jesus, falling more in love with Him, and growing in holiness.
He commented at the outset on the liturgical enrichment of the lectionary after Vatican II. I have a different experience. I thought I would send you a counter experience as a sort of defense of the one year cycle.
Fr. Cassidy seems to have experienced the reform of the liturgy after being raised on the older form of the Mass. I was born in 1986 and raised on the reformed liturgy. I did not discover the older form of the Mass until 2003, when I was 17. My experience of discovering the older form was one of discovering the very internal meaning and notion of the Mass, how to worship at Mass, and the meaning of the scriptures and the Eucharist as part of Mass. I was in no way ignorant of my faith or a bad Catholic. Yet I discovered some things in the older form that I had never discovered in the newer one, particularly about the beauty and meaning of the scriptures.
Fr. Cassidy called it a command of the Holy Spirit to the Church in Vatican II to reform the lectionary. He presented it as a great gift. He went through the older way the scriptures were read/chanted at Mass (the use of the right and left side; Latin; repeating it), and then presented the reform as an act of the Holy Spirit for modern times.
I believe the primary thing gained by the reform of the lectionary was a greater selection of the treasury of the scriptures. In no way can I deny that it is good for people to be more familiar with the Word of God or that receiving more of the Word of God transforms hearts and lives.
Yet I think several things were lost.
The first thing that I think was lost is the one year cycle. It may just be my personality, but I have a difficult time remembering things that happened three years ago. Yet even after only a few years, the scriptures in the one year cycle became familiar to me. I now go 'oh yeah, we had that last year!' I begin to associate scriptures with liturgical days. In essence, I may hear fewer scriptures, but it becomes part of my heart.
Another thing lost was the truly liturgical sense of the year long lectionary. The cycle of readings in the liturgical year are oftentimes chosen, not so much for liturgical reasons, but in order to read through the scriptures in order. This isn’t universally true: they have maintained some sense of a liturgical selection. For instance in the reformed calendar the Sundays of Ordinary Time that have to be omitted are omitted from the middle in order to keep the eschatological readings at the end of the year intact. Yet a lot of it has been lost. I was astounded to discover how much wisdom was in the week to week progression of the readings. I have been considering writing a book on the lectionary of the Extraordinary Form as a guide to the spiritual life. It is, I suppose, up the Holy Spirit whether I ever do that.
A third thing lost was the integrity of the liturgical action. They made the readings a three year cycle, but most of the propers (the Psalm-response and the Alleluia excepted) are still on a year long cycle. There is, therefore, no sense of having "a Mass" (such as "Missa ‘Gaudete’"; "Missa ‘In Media Nocte’"; "Missa ‘Laetare’"; "Missa ‘Quasimodo’") wherein all the prayers have a liturgical unity and were chosen to compliment each other. For most Masses of the year, the Introit, the Opening Prayer, the Offeratory (if they use it), the Prayer of the Gifts, the Communion Antiphon, and the Closing Prayer are completely unrelated to the scriptural readings. This can give the impression that the scriptures for any given mass or just “added on” to it, and not an integral part of it.
Another thing is that the new cycle makes very little attempt to maintain any continuity with the previous cycle. I read Annibale Bugnini’s book on the reform of the Liturgy; I was shocked at how easily he described the Concilium’s decision to abandon the traditional readings. It was suggested that the traditional cycle by maintained as one of the years. This was voted down. They have maintained some of it during Lent and in the Sanctoral Calendar; but on the whole the new cycle is a break with the previous one. This is a great pity since it isolated us in time from the Church before us. It makes the cycle of homilies and liturgical aids of great Saints and scholars (such as Dom Gueranger or Pius Parsch) less useful. There can be a sense in the new lectionary of being liturgically isolated from history.
A final thing is that the sense of the scriptures as both an act of divine worship (a sacrifice of praise), and a source of faith and edification for the people is diminished. In the older form it was clear that even just reading the scriptures was a liturgical action (the Epistle was read by the subdeacon facing the East on the right side of the altar, the Gospel by the deacon facing the North on the left side of the altar; they were chanted according to predetermined tones). It was startling to me the first time I went there that the scriptures were primarily directed as an act of spiritual worship to God and not to me. I was invited to participate in something greater than me. The scriptures were less "about me."
I personally believe that the reformers could have responded the Council’s wish for a richer variety of scripture without wounding so much the one year cycle, the liturgical significance of the scriptures, the integrity of the Mass, the traditional cycle of readings, and the sense of scripture as divine worship. Given, however, that we only have two options, I personally believe that what is gained is much less than what is lost. I strongly prefer the traditional lectionary.
|
|
Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, November 8th, 2009
|
|
|
Claire of "I study with DOZENS of priests" fame and I recently conversed on Facebook. For convenience I am responding like so:
The Story Thus far: Dramatis Personae: S.M.: Servus Mariae (Me!) I.S.w.D.o.P: I Study with Dozens of Priests (Claire) S.M.:According to Aquinas (IV Sent d24q1a2qc5sc1) if someone misses an order (All of which Aquinas holds imparts sacremental character) he can receive the order missed even after receiving a higher order. Could I, therefore, being ordained according to the Paul VI "2 orders fit all" method, later receive the orders missed, such as the order of exorcist??
St. Thomas Aquinas ([18861] Super Sent., lib. 4 d. 24 q. 1 a. 2 qc. 2 co.):Et propter hoc alii dixerunt, quod in sacris ordinibus imprimitur character, non autem in minoribus. Sed hoc nihil iterum est: quia per quemlibet ordinem aliquis constituitur super plebem in aliquo gradu potestatis ordinatae ad sacramentorum dispensationem. Unde cum character sit signum distinctivum ab aliis; oportet quod in omnibus character imprimatur: cujus etiam signum est quod perpetuo manent, et nunquam iterantur. Et haec est tertia opinio, quae communior est.
My above quotation says that some people think only the major orders impart a character (because they are the only two whose office a layman cannot perform) , but the more common (and correct) opinion is that all of the orders impart a character, since all the orders constitute a man in some level of power ordained toward sacramental dispensation over the people of God, and, since a character is a sign which distinguishes one grade from another, it is necessary that all of the orders impart it.
But this whole question, from Aquinas' point of view, seems entirely academic to me, for, as he himself writes
(Super Sent., lib. 4 d. 24 q. 1 a. 2 qc. 5 co. ):et ideo etiam in primitiva Ecclesia aliqui ordinabantur in presbyteros qui prius inferiores ordines non susceperant; et tamen poterant omnia quae inferiores ordines possunt: quia inferior... Plures Legere potestas comprehenditur in superiori virtute, sicut sensus in intellectu...
and therefore even in the primitive Church some used to be ordained as priests who had not previously received the inferior orders; and, nevertheless, they were able to do all things which the inferior orders could: because the inferior power is understood in the superior power, just as senses in the intellect... I.S.w.D.o.PS.M., isn't that quote from the part of the Summa that was written by Paperno, not Aquinas? (By which I mean: I'm pretty sure it is.) I just wrote a paper on sacramental character, and all my Thomistic sources agreed that Aquinas himself held that only presbyteral ordination imprints character (which is kind of what it looked to me like he said ... Plures Legereanyway).
As far as the abolition of the minor orders, I am able to take some comfort in the ordination rubrics from the Statuta (which seems to be from the 5th century or earlier), in which all the minor orders are present and are clearly clerical orders to which a man must be ordained, but are set apart from the major orders by an explicit lack of the laying on of hands.
As to your actual question... I have no idea whatsoever. :) S.M.I.S.w.D.o.P, NO. It is true that the same quotations from St. Thomas occur in Paperno's supplement, but he did not write the supplement, but rather took it from the Sentences. I know these are from the sentences, because I read them in Latin directly out of the sentences before I even looked at the supplement (which was word for word the same).
My problem with the sacramentality of the minor orders is merely this: that Regular Abbots could in some cases ordain in the minor orders.
I would like to study this further.
There are arguments on both sides. For instance, it is argued that exorcism is not a matter of pwoer, since every baptized Christian has the power to exorcise, but a matter of authority. Therefore, it might be said, there is no power conferred in the order of exorcist, but only an office that bears a certain authority. But this is contradicted by the fact that all exorcists ordained today are ordained without faculties, and thus their exorcisms are considered invalid. And if the office is that is bestowed, then it would make no sense for someone to be ordained exorcist but to not receive the authority to exercise his office.
I think the think that most settles the question in my mind is that none of the minor orders can be repeated. Even if a man gets married and his wife dies and he seeks the priesthood, he is not reordained. And yet he had no official office in the Church while he was married.
This, incidentally, is why I think it's likely that the ministries of acolyte and lector are participations in the sacrament of priesthood.
But this poses another problem, since the prayer over the acolyte asks that he be strengthed to give to the faithful the bread of life. It is understand that the acolyte (sadly) is a permanent extraordinary minister. Yet if the intention of the Church is to give part of the powers of the priest to the acolyte, as it is to the deacon, it stands to reason that the power of administering the sacrament in persona Christi would be part of the ministry of acolyte, and acolytes would thus be sacramental, if not ordinary, ministers.
You've studied this, I haven't Tell me the truth! I.S.w.D.o.PToo bad you didn't post this days ago! (Well, I wouldn't've seen it 'cuz I had suspended all facebook activity 'till I finished my paper. Shoot.) Anyway, this new information would've changed at least a paragraph lol.
As far as ordinations by abbots, my professor holds the interesting view that it is only presbyteral ordination that confers sacerdotal power (and it confers the fullness of that power). Episcopal consecration/ordination (the words are used interchangeably, signifying our own uncertainty of doctrine) confers only an ordering, a relationship - that is, the authority to use those powers. This, then, explains why papal permission was all that was needed to allow abbots to ordain their men. (It also explains why, in these new Anglican Personal Ordinarianates, the ordinary need not be a bishop.)
The sacrament of orders confuses me, because it is one sacrament for many (albeit related) things, with different forms in differing degrees... But if we hold to my professor's view that the sacrament is for purpose of ordering (and only sometimes for priesthood - that is, that the minor orders, while clerical, do not confer a priestly identity as such), combined with the traditional view that the character is a priestly mark, it would seem to give a completely logically consistent reason why the minor orders cannot be repeated even if they imprint no character.
It always confused me that one could engage evil spirits as an exorcist does without ordinary sacerdotal power. Just seems, well, counter-intuitive.
And, behold, my response!
The theory about Bishop not being a different order from Priest was a fairly common opinion, quite disputed, up until Vatican II. The opinion of Vatican II seems to be that Bishop is a different order which is entered into through ordination. Since then, very few people have held the opposite. The Eastern Churches also hold that Bishop is a separate order from Priest.
I was unaware about the Anglican thing. Of course I haven't been on the internets much recently. Thanks!
Let me tell you my understanding about the sacrament of orders:
There really is only one sacrament, namely priesthood. But "priesthood" has many powers, for everything which either is the administration of a sacrament or is ordered toward administering the sacraments is a power that is proper to the priest. From the very beginning, the Church realized that it was neither possible, desirable, nor appropriate for the priests to handle all the duties that came along with their office, so they granted a participation or extension of the priesthood to certain men by granting them some of the powers of the priest, especially those that are ordered not toward the administration of the sacraments, but toward those things ordered toward its administration.
It started out with Deacons, who are not priests nor have the priesthood, but have the sacramental character by sharing in the priesthood of the priest as an extension of the priest. Later the offices of the deacon were split up into further lesser offices, all of which the Deacon possessed.
So some powers of the porter is to admit people to the Sacred Liturgy and prevent those not permitted to come. A power of Exorcist is to remove from the rites of the Church all the authority of the evil one. Some powers of the acolyte is to sing the responses, assist at the altar and prepare the wine and the water. Some powers of subdeacon is to prepare the sacred vessels and assist the deacon. Some powers of the Deacon is to assist the priest in offering the sacred mysteries and to administer the blessed sacrament, especially the precious blood, as an extension of the priest.
Notice that all of these are priestly powers ordered toward the priesthood but still falling short of the priesthood.
For this reason, I think it's quite likely that there could be many more orders than the 7 (or 9, if you include either Bishop or Cantor as one order, and Tonsure as another). For instance, I see no reason why "Minister of Holy Communion" could not be an order. Why can the Church not confer upon a man all the powers necessary to act as a minister of Holy Communion as an extension of the priest while not bestowing on him all the offices of the Deacon?
In fact, I think it's possible that this has already happened, since I think that it is likely that installation as acolyte (though NOT ordination as acolyte) bestows the power to administer the Blessed Sacrament as an extension of the priest since being a permanent extraordinary minister is actually part of the office of acolyte, but it would extremely contrary to the tradition of the Church to establish a duty to perform an intrinsically odious ministry.
It's also possible that Deacon in the Western Church and Deacon in the Eastern Church are not same, since Rev. Fr. Dcn. H. informs me that Deacons in the East do not have the power to administer blessings. Now, I suppose that this could be something like how ordained acolytes in the West have the power to bless water, but, as they don't have the faculties to bless water, their blessings are invalid: I suppose Eastern Deacons might have the power to give blessings, but not the faculties. It would be interesting to learn whether biritual Deacons can give blessings...hmmm...
In any case, let me summarize my rambling remarks, made all the more rambling because I'm trying to remember and rewrite what I wrote the first time, and while I'm add it, ramble on further:- There is really only one sacrament, priesthood.
- This sacrament has many powers.
- These powers can be given to men who are not priests.
- The men who are not priests share in the priesthood of the priest insofar as they possess certain auxiliary but nonetheless priestly powers.
- These powers are auxiliary since they allow these men to assist the priest in offering sacrifice and celebrating the sacraments, but only allow them to do so as an extension of the priest and not as if they were priests themselves.
- There are traditionally 6 orders short of priesthood.
- Some argue that tonsure should also be considered an order.
- Others argue that only Bishops have the fullness of priestly power, and that priests are therefore a lower order than Bishop, with Bishop being therefore a separate order from priest.
- In the East there is generally only Subdeacon, Deacon, Priest, and Bishop, although in some places lector and cantor are or have also been orders.
- The number and the powers of the orders are determined by the Church according to the needs of the time.
- There can, hypothetically, be as many orders as there are auxiliary powers attached to the priesthood.
- Priests, merely by virtue of having the priesthood, have all the powers of all the other orders, major and minor, insofar as they have all the duties of all the orders, major and minor (i.e. calling the sheep the sacrifice and sacraments, preventing those forbidden from participating in the sacred, expelling uncleanness and evil spirits from sacred places and sacred rites, blessing the sacramentals used for the sacred rites, singing the praises of God, reading the scripture readings, touching the sacred vessels, serving the priest as an extension of his priestly ministry, proclaiming the Gospel, administering the Blessed Sacrament, and suchlike).
Thus is absolved my comments.
|
|
Comments: Read 4 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Saturday, November 7th, 2009
|
|
|
Please remind me to write an essay on why Deacons should not be theologically considered extraordinary ministers, and laymen, acolytes included, should not be considered ministers of Holy Communion at all.
(NB: I do not mean to suggest that Deacons are not juridically ordinary ministers of Holy Communion or that laypeople are not juridically extraordinary ministers.)
I am very worried about this right now, as it seems that Church has thus far neglected to develop the theology of the administration of Holy Communion and the ministries of the Mass in general. This has allowed for the systematic destruction of the traditional view of the offices of the priest in favor of a new view of the role of the laity. This new view of the role of the laity seems to me to little more than a stepping stone to the destruction of the entire notion of a ministerial priesthood.
Here's how it goes: - Offices proper to the priest were gradually extended to "helpers" who were able to exercise special offices to aid the priest and as an extension of the priest. For this reason, although many of these offices did not require ordination, all of the offices required one to be a cleric.
- Because of the lack of clerics and the gradual loss of the sense of these ecclesial ministries as permanent offices, lay people look over many of these duties (such as cantor, acolyte, and in certain cases subdeacon). They, nonetheless, were seen as "standing in" for clerics who were seen as acting as an extension of the priest, thus the proper role of the priest was maintained.
- In recent times, due in part (but not completely) to a systematic attempt to change the Church's view of the duties of priests and the duties of laymen: to minimize that which is proper to the priest and maximize that which is proper to laypeople, the perception of certain ministries as being proper to priests and clerics has all but completely vanished.
- The next step is build a consensus that these ministries are not (and never were) proper to the priest, but have always been proper to the laity and were at times usurped by the priests.
- After that, they will attempt to diminish the offices that are most proper to the priest, especially the offices of offering Mass, celebrating the other sacraments, offering the prayers of the people to God, giving blessings, and, as I intend to argue, administering the Blessed Sacrament. IN FACT, EVERY ONE OF THESE THINGS HAS ALREADY HAPPENED, AND SOME HAVE MADE THERE WAY INTO CHURCH DOCUMENTS OR EVEN OFFICIAL PRAYERS!
Please remind me. This is important to me. I don't have much time to do the research and to write it, but it is not only important TO me, it is important FOR me.
Thanks.
|
|
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, October 4th, 2009
|
|
|
about all the things I said when I'm sleeping...when I'm dreaming...I've been thinking again... And I smiled when I thought of you... Happy, with someone you love. What a wondrous thought. I am happy too. I'm with Someone I love. I've chosen a life, different than a part of me had ever wanted. There was struggle in me, ever since the childhood that never was and the innocence seeking innocence. Why did it take me 23 years to accept some basic truths: that it's alright to be "alone" (from the romantic point of view); and it's alright to be "not know love" (as the world would have it known); and it's alright to not feel pain, but feel it all the more. Why did it take me 23 years to find peace; to let go of tonight (last night, and tomorrow...)?
I want you to know that, for the first time, I'm with you...I mean that I'm for you; I support you and I love you, and I blame you not a whit. I want you know that you're wonderful, you're beautiful, you're fine, and there's nothing in the world that could make me wish you ill.
I smile as I think of it -- think hard upon it all. What folly's and what splendid woes, in wooing I can woo. What jokes, what lost lamented tales, I held so near, so dear. I smile, a smile affection clothed, and I laugh upon myself. When thought I all so serious, when lost I was in sin, when past myself I could not see, nor see thee deep within. How sad, forlorn, how tragic it that we once lost did have. And what a smile and a laugh we have to greet it all!
Don't you see! You: happy (all that matters now), eternally happy, happy right now. Me? I'm happy -- the gladdest I have been. My face is crested a smile, my heart is pure within. But let that I should smile with thee and see thy happiness, and know that thou thy love hast found (as I have found my Love). Do not judge me, do not hate me, look not upon me ill, but let me smile when thou dost smile, for this has been my will.
Happy with someone you love. What a wondrous thought. I want you to know...will you ever know?
I want you to know about all the times I let you down...I want you to know about all these things I said when I'm sleeping...when I'm dreaming...I've been thinking again...I want you to know...
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Wednesday, September 9th, 2009
|
|
|
Servus Servorum Dei Dominus Noster in Christo Regnans Papa Benedictus XVI
Dear Brothers, in the decades following the Second Vatican Council, some interpreted the opening to the world, not as a requirement of the missionary zeal of the Heart of Christ, but as a transition to secularisation, seeing therein some values of great Christian density such as equality, freedom, solidarity, being willing to make concessions and find areas of cooperation. Thus one came to witness interventions of some Church leaders in ethical debates, which met the expectations of public opinion, but omitted to talk about certain fundamental truths of faith such as sin, grace, the theologal life and the last things. Unperceivedly many ecclesial communities fell into self-secularisation; these, hoping to please those who never came, saw leave, deceived and disillusioned, many of those they had: our contemporaries, when they come to us, want to see what they do not see anywhere, that is, the joy and the hope that spring from the fact that we are with the Risen Lord.
Currently there is a new generation already born into this secularised ecclesial environment, which instead of finding opening and consensus, sees within society an ever-widening trench of differences and oppositions to the Magisterium of the Church, especially in the field of ethics. In this desert of God, the new generation feels a great thirst for transcendence.
It is the young men of this new generation who knock today at the door of the seminary and who need to find educators who have to be true men of God, priests totally dedicated to formation, who give witness of the gift of self to the Church through celibacy and austere life, after the model of Christ the Good Shepherd. Thus these young men will learn to be sensitive to the encounter with the Lord, in the daily participation in the Eucharist, loving silence and prayer, and striving, first and foremost, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.
|
|
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, August 16th, 2009
|
|
|
Oh image bold and image mild (Moses in the reeds: a child) I see thee now for what thou art: My long-lost turd and stinky fart.
[Child who weret flung toward me And who weret called my destiny: Hear thou now the laugh I laugh This joy I throw into thy face:]
Thou were't to me a purpose not refined nebulous like dawn upon a dusk-filled earth an image too absurd to be maligned And yet I swallowed thee... seeing not thy mirth.
The reeds (I thought) the place where she (my destiny) would be for me; (or failing that, at least a kingly fate I'd surely see).
My mother-love (all flamed with pain) set my life adrift; (and lucky lot looked down upon the one he'd choose to lift)
Absurd! Freedom free within, like flying fouls fill sky filleth every crack and crevice here and thus completeth mine:
Moses, (oh my soul) was chosen from above. And thus (and since thou art not he) thou may'st choose and love.
|
|
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Today two girls came to the front door. I answered. They explained to me that they were from Obama's social action group. One of them, the one who didn't speak, was awfully cute. She had a glimmer in her eyes, and she never took them off of me. But, as I am remarkably handsome, I was not terribly surprised.
Nevertheless, I had to explain myself to them. Thus I said: "Oh...Well, since I didn't actually vote for Obama, I might not be very helpful to you." The cute girl smiled at me, an amused look on her face. The other one said: "Okay. Have a good one." Acknowledging their farewell, I shut the door.
My sister overheard it. She found it very amusing.
|
|
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Today, as we take to heart the lessons of the current economic crisis, which sees the State's public authorities directly involved in correcting errors and malfunctions, it seems more realistic to re-evaluate their role and their powers, which need to be prudently reviewed and remodelled so as to enable them, perhaps through new forms of engagement, to address the challenges of today's world. Once the role of public authorities has been more clearly defined, one could foresee an increase in the new forms of political participation, nationally and internationally, that have come about through the activity of organizations operating in civil society; in this way it is to be hoped that the citizens' interest and participation in the res publica will become more deeply rooted.
I can't agree more with the need to more clearly define and re-evaluate the role of public authorities. especially the role of national (and global?) authorities.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
24. The world that Paul VI had before him — even though society had already evolved to such an extent that he could speak of social issues in global terms — was still far less integrated than today's world. Economic activity and the political process were both largely conducted within the same geographical area, and could therefore feed off one another. Production took place predominantly within national boundaries, and financial investments had somewhat limited circulation outside the country, so that the politics of many States could still determine the priorities of the economy and to some degree govern its performance using the instruments at their disposal. Hence Populorum Progressio assigned a central, albeit not exclusive, role to “public authorities”[59].
The Pope is addressing a globalized world. In terms of production/consumption, this means that the producers and the consumers are now different people. According to Aristotle, economics begins when someone must give a just amount of x (say, cabinets, if he is a cabinet maker) or y (say, houses, if he is a house builder). Since a house is valued as much greater than a cabinet, the cabinet maker must give many more cabinets then the house builder requires. Therefore a "neutral" commodity is established by common consent and a relative value is given of the various commodities in relatin to this other commodity. ergo: money.
One of the problems of "globalization" is that the social realities cannot govern the justice of the exchange of commodities, for this society (e.g. the US) can afford a much higher standard of living that that society, can therefore buy many extra products, and that society (whatever it may be) gladly produces them, thus raping their natural resources, and sells them for a price that would clearly be unjust were the products manufactured in the same place they are bought.
So the producers do not get the just value and the product.
Come to think of it, though, this problem is not new. The Athenians had slave states to produce for the citizens, and most societies have had slaves.
What is new, however, is that localism is almost completely dead. In fact, stateism and nationalism are not in much better shape.
The new situation is exactly how the Pope has described. China is now right now the street from Ann Arbor.
It is interesting to note that the Pope does not openly criticise this development, which seems to me to be, if not directly opposed to justice, at least materially retardant to it. The Pope merely, and probably wisely, states that this change has happened. The judgement that this change has set back the prospects of justice is my own, and possibly one the Pope would not agree with.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
I like the Pope's repeated notion of the integretity of human development that must be achieved in social issues.
Then again, I like key words like integrity, harmony, organic unity, and subsidarity.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
I'm reading Pope Benedict's new encyclical. I'm currently on paragraph 22. Not to stand in judgement over the Pope, but I have to say that so far its pretty good. pretty good, but not earth shattering. I suppose the Pope thinks this is what the world needs to hear right now. I won't contradict his wisdom. Yet it seems to me that the message the world needs to hear right now now is much more along the lines of Pius XI encyclical Quadragessimo Anno, which, to this day, remains the best social encyclical I've ever read, and seems extremely relevent to today.
I have yet to read Populorum Progressio. Perhaps this is my invitation to do so. It is entirely possible, I suppose, that the wisdom of the encyclical has been generally overlooked and forgotten, and this really is the encyclical the Church needs to be reminded of. In my own limited intellectual explorations, however, I have found Quadragessimo Anno to be the real forgotten gem. If we need a papal reminder to reread any encyclical, I believe that it is Pope Pius XI's masterpiece.
Why, do you suppose, Pope Benedict has yet to mention the Bill of Rights of social encyclicals? Maybe he does a little later. Then again, maybe not.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
There is a lyric in a song by Brand New that reads: Do me a favor, baby, don't reply, cause I can dish it out, but I can't take it. The cry of that line is surely a cry of weaknesses. In fact the need to lash out is almost always a sign of weakness just as much as the inability to defend oneself is. I would like to take a different tack.
For a long time now, that is since my childhood, I have liked the Rocky movies. They get me fired up. I find myself doing pushups, punching punching-bags; my heart pounds sometimes: I just want to get up and run. The interesting thing about the Rocky movies is that he does successfully in the ring what he attempts to do and often fails to do in life: he takes it all and keeps going until he wins some sort of victory. Punch after punch flies at his face. He becomes battered and bruised, falls down: he keeps on going. Outside the arena, his life is often tragically doomed, and, with his lack of social grace, his attempts to right it often turn out to make it worse rather than better. Yet he fails until he succeeds; takes the criticism and negativism, the bad turns and the unfairness in stride. He keeps getting up and attempting to fight, even though there is no guarantee that he will win.
I would rather be someone who can take it all and still move forward than someone who can give as good as I get. I am not quite there yet, I have to confess, although I think I am rather close. There is a part of me that cowers and withdraws, a part that is still afraid. That part of me shall not conquer.
Don't get me wrong. I strongly believe in defending myself when and as it is appropriate. Yet if I am really secure in who I am, and God grant that I am such, there is no reason why I have to make myself weak enough to need to battle other people or their thoughts. Let people think badly about me. I, personally, chose not to live in my insecurities to the point where I have to justify myself in another's eyes or, even worse, bring another down to prove myself.
Whether or not I dish it out, I can take it.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
I've been reading Laura T.'s book. When I decided to buy it, it was more as a personal favor to a friend. I don't read. Not very much at all. I didn't know whether I would ever get around to reading this book.
While I was chatting with her this afternoon, she asked me to read it, telling me it might be a little intense, yet wanting me to read it through and tell her what I think. So I've been reading it. It's interesting. The entire tone is so melancholy its sigh would be a hurricane. And there's a goodly part of me that loves it. Those of you -- you poor unfortunate souls -- who read the over-the-top rhetoric of my delightfully melodramatic bowel rending catharsis that graced this blog for several years will know that I quite enjoy revelling in these feelings. They are like a playground, and it is not just my heart the skims the monkey bars, but my stomach climbs the tower, and every part of my body plays in the sand. What a world of self-destructive fun!
By no means, of course, do I intend to imply that the man who is depressed merely does it for the fun of it. Yet there often does seem to be a 'game' element to it. That is the same element present in those -- unfortunate -- romantic relationships where, far from honestly talking with each other, every action and word is calculated to produce some emotional effect. I believe they call it "playing with one's heart."
In my case, these melocholic emotions are among the strongest I have ever encountered. And they feel a hell of a lot better than depression. Thus, in my memories, fall of '05 seems to much better of than spring of '06, for fall '05 was replete with nasty feelings, but spring '06 was merely callous emptiness. The attraction of the emotions, I think, is that there really are pains, struggles, trials; hurldles to high to leap, walls to high to scale. As the cutter cuts herself to, as Laura put it, avoid the pain in her mind (though I object to the world mind, it is a mute point), so the emotional addict creates a world of pain to avoid the world outside of himself. That's a hypothesis. It may not be correct.
I have, however, been there. I have escaped. My emotions are fairly self-contained nowadays. I do not explode as harrowing insults, I do not die at the serpent tongue. Sometimes I seem almost placid, unaffected by my surroundings. And my writings have less of the charge that used to pervade them.
Then I read something like this. All the memories come back.
I have avoided certain television shows, not listened to certain songs during certain moods, forgotten certain memories, altered how I feel about certain people. On a day to day basis, it is quite possible for me to completely ignore the profundity of the feelings I used to ignore. I usually have no desire to go back.
In some ways, this book is, for me, like emotional pornography. The words themselves have such power to affect an emotional state I'm not entirely sure I want.
St. Thomas Aquinas spoke of me and other animals as the "patient" of the emotions. That is, another agent works on us, producing the emotions in us. That is very much what the experience of reading this book has been like to me: like an agent has been working on my heart, producing feelings that I'm not invested in, feelings I'm only watching as a casual observer. I can deal with these feelings, because they're not mine. Yet I wonder what the best course of action is about them.
Should I deal with them? conquer and habituate them? come to have dominance over them?
Should I close the book and forget about them, recognising how much their place in my life has diminished over the past three years, and trusting that that process will continue?
I don't know. But for right now, I'll keep on reading.
|
|
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Wednesday, May 27th, 2009
|
|
|
A few minutes ago, as I did all in my power to keep from being ill (I haven't thrown up in years -- and that time only because I had smoked too much), I had an interesting discursion within my mind. It was brought on by my answer to L.'s comment on a post of mine. It was a sort of reflexive encounter with my memories of writing. You see, I had mentioned to L. in my response what Henri de Lubac had written about how nothing can be read in the same way it was written. I suggested that this principle be extended to include yourself: you cannot read what you wrote in the same way you wrote it. This is obviously more true the longer it has been since you wrote it.
In the aftertaste of this thought, I reflected on writing the experience of the recent writing I have done.
One of the annoying things about high school English classes (undeniably!) is how they expect you to interpret the text of an author whose life, influences, cares, dream, and suchlike you know nothing about. They assume there is deeper meaning to the text (sometimes it seems like the text actually says what it means! the horror!), and they expect you to find it. The result is that students exercise their "creativity," which, in my case, normally meant making things up on the spot. Since I was good at instantaneously inventing ideas, I was quite often praised for very little work.
This may have annoyed me back in high school, for I felt dirty clothing my interests in famous authors words, but the truth of the "deeper meaning" is conveyed at least partially by the experience I'm about to relate.
When I write there are, often subconsciously, all manners of thoughts going on that, usually because of inhibitions of one sort or another, never actually get written. These thoughts quickly are forgotten. Reading over what I wrote a day later, the thoughts that inspired and were beyond a particular sentence often will not even occur to me.
It seems like a hell of a lot is going on within us just where we don't want to look. I have to admit that I don't always or even usually know why I say what I say, say it in the way I say it; do what I do, or do it in the way that I do it. I bet its the same with you. Neither you nor I really know what's going on here.
But would you want to? would I want to?
In many ways, at least using that scholarly method I have immersed myself in, whereby thoughts are 'played with' and judgments rarely made, it is a lot easier and more fun to know someone else, because that knowledge need not hurt; it need not even affect you. You can navigate the streams of causality in someone elses life like someone navigating the river behind his house. You can do it thoughtlessly, without concern for the personhood of the other, or the immense subtlety you can find in another's subjectivity. You can do this, that is, so long as you don't identify yourself -- to some degree or another -- with that other person. As soon as you live that other person's life, even to the smallest degree, you loose the ability to navigate the emotional-subjective streams of the other objectively. But of course this has to be the case, because the other is not a subject in a similar way to how you are a subject. In this case, knowledge of another can hurt even more than knowledge of oneself.
Well, this isn't quite true. It seems to me that the more one knows oneself and stands within oneself, the stronger the judgment that even someone truly beloved to you is other than you will be. Being able to be yourself allows you to always have a separation between your self-experience and the experience of sympathy.
In a rather interesting inversion of my prior assertion, then, I have now reached the conclusion that knowledge of others is harder, for to know another as another I have to first know myself. But I am scary to myself, for I do not wish to acknowledge to myself my hidden motivations and my occult desires.
Would you really want to know yourself? to consciously hold yourself? to be aware of yourself? to stand within yourself?
To do this would be to acknowledge your faults and failings, to see the past and the present in a different light, to reshape your future.
Do you want to know yourself?
In St. Augustine's noverim te he begins: "May I know you; may I know myself." St. John of the Cross likewise has an interesting line in his poem The Living Flame of Love which roughly translates like this: "your lamps within my soul bright burning...turns the caverns of my soul to glorious light" The image in clear. My soul has depths and, as St. John would put it, potential 'centers' which are darkness to me. To explore them is scary because it involves tripping around in the dark, feeling my way through someone unknown.
St. Augustine's prayer, before asking noverim me, may I know myself, asks, noverim te: May I know Thee!
The order seems significant.
You see, the Socratic injunction: KNOW THYSELF! is as valid today as it was when it was first read above the door that the Delphic Oracle. We have a responsibility to know ourselves as truly as possible, no matter how deep and dark this is. Yet we cannot do it alone. We need an interior guide, we need to do it in relation to someone or something else.
I go further yet. No one can really know himself without, even to the point of forgetting himself, seeking to know God. Noverim me always follows upon noverim te. To KNOW THYSELF is the privilege par excellence of the holy man. And because he alone really knows himself, he alone really have the opportunity to know another.
If you asked me whether I want to know myself, I do not know that I could answer 'yes.' Sometimes I would rather have said that I wished to know you than to know myself. But in that case I was unable to fully differentiate myself from you.
One thing, though, is certain:
If I knew myself in relation to God, I would not be afraid to know you.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
The following is written just for fun. It has no purpose. It may not be worth reading.
Ever since LBJ2 told me she dreamt every night and I confessed mournfully that I never remember a dream, I remember dreams. I won't say often. I now remember dreaming most nights. To actually remember my dreams is rarer, but it still occurs a number of times throughout a year. Thus, for instance, I have had two dreams this year about Michigan football. This will be a reoccurring dream for me until kickoff of the first game. These dreams usually consist, as a mentioned in a post three years ago, of realizing toward the last game that I have forgotten about the season and missed all the games.
I needn't go into that. For now it is enough to relate to you a dream from last night.
Last night -- well, actually this morning/afternoon -- was full of dreams. Many I cannot remember except by vague impressions, and those awfully wierd (one dream had to do with pimples, and that's all I can remember...weird...!). One, however, was fairly developed and interesting. It is this that I shall relate to you.
It was about three before my wedding when she told me about her profound doubts. She, the girl I shall call M. for reasons obvious to everyone who knows me well, was small and petite; pretty, her face roundish and pale, her skin smooth and clear. In reality, the girl in my dream was a girl I had known many years before, had not really talked much to at the time, and have not talked much with since. Aside from the waking weirdness of thinking of us marrying, it seemed in the dream like the most natural thing in the world.
Except for this conversation.
What was weird about the conversation, though, is that she refused to let me in. I stood on the outside of her doubts, standing next to her, occasionally touching her outside, but completely unable to touch her inside, assuage her, or even share her doubts with her.
Time passed, and we kept on moving forward with our plans. Or, rather, the plans already set in motion progressed on their own. Eventually we came to ourselves in a car, in the long drive to the location where the wedding was to take place. We talked in the car ride, but, as with the last few weeks, the now unspoken doubts formed the background silence giving the lie to our words.
We arrived. Parents with excitement to see us. Hustle and bustle. Parties. Eventually we come to the wedding day.
Now you must understand that I had one thought, hovering -- always hovering -- but I never dared to think about it. It was whether she would go through with the wedding. Perhaps there was a certain desire on my part to not 'rock the boat' until after we were safety wed. I wondered, at the same time, whether I should go through with it. Yet I was confident that I could handle any problems that would arise after the exchange of troth.
The Church was...a protestant church! it must have been. There was blue carpet and individual padded chairs. A glass podium took the place on the Catholic altar. I saw no priest. Time ticked by as I waited for the wedding to begin.
It is here that the dream turns into the typical "...and then I realized I was naked..." dream, for suddenly I looked at my cloths. Everyone around me was dressed in tuxes. I had a battered suit coat on and an ugly mismatched and stained pair and pants. Embarrassment suddenly seized me. People had been talking with me for hours, guests coming and sitting down (the church was beginning to fill). No one had commented. Not even my own mother had commented. I held my peace for a little time, wondering what to do. Then, as time drew nigh for the ceremony to begin, I rushed up to my bride.
"What's wrong?" she asked me.
"Look at my pants!"
She looked displeased. "How did this happen?" she asked. I had to confess my ignorance.
Without another word, she rushed away, hurrying to my mother, who bolted out of her row and told me that she would be right back. She was going to the store. I felt better, but realized that, no matter what she returned with, I would look bad.
Then I touched my face. A blush formed instantly, for I felt whiskers, and realized I hadn't shaved. As a ran into the bathroom, I realized I hadn't showered or in any way prepared. Somehow the simplest things had slipped through my mind (and through the notice of everyone around me). As I ran into the bathroom to inspect my beard -- there were only a few hairs, hardly noticeable -- I looked up on my forehead. And there, partially hidden by my hair, was the worst cluster of bright red blistering pimples I had ever had.
This was too much for me, so I woke up. Thankfully, I was spared the embarrassment of actually going through the wedding. This also means, however, that I don't know whether we actually went through with it or not.
Now, if only I had a Freudian Psychoanalysist to tell me what it all means...or maybe I was dreaming in Jungian types...
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
I heard a professor once quote C.S. Lewis as saying that love is a death wish. It was on a tape, and I was driving through Saint Louis. The professor spoke of Romeo and Juliet and the other so-called love stories. But the advantage that Romeo and Juliet had, he pointed out, was that they both died after a few days. There was, he said, no 'happily ever after,' to worry about. To illustrate this point, he would occassionally have his freshman students write a fictional dialog between Romeo and Juliet twenty years later. The students found it immensely difficult. For how could Romeo and Juliet translate into 'Ever After?'
I need not raise here my eighth grade Language Arts teacher's assertion that Romeo and Juliet is, indeed, a horror, rather than a love, story. The evidence to back it up is quite interesting, but quite beyond the scope of my current reasoning. Horror story or not, Romeo and Juliet is hardly a 'love story' in the sense that a happily married couple is a love story.
My parents represent quite the love story. Two people from extremely different backgrounds, who think quite differently, relate to the outside world differently: two people brought together by something held in common that was so powerful that their differences become the fodder the fed the wedded self they had to make together.
It is a different love story, a love story of real life.
Plato in his dialog the Symposium has a character tell the myth of original man -- a spherical being with four arms and two heads. This original man became man and woman, and man has from that day forward been looking for his 'other half.'
There's a certain charming quality to a myth like this. Think of Sleepless in Seattle, a movie I doubt I have seen more than once. Think of the romanticism exhibited by Meg Ryan's character as she watches an affair to remember, which, incidentally, was my grandmother's favorite movie. She wants to find her other half. Now compare that to the moment where she gets off the plane and he sees her. There -- as they see each other for the first time -- the movie has us live out the "reality" of the romantic myth. And there's something about it that seems so right.
Actually Sleepless in Seattle tells its own myth, the myth of reincarnation: that the two missed each other in a previous life and so are looking for each other in this life. Regardless of the myth chosen, the picture painted is one of two people who are so inside of each other that they cannot but be in love.
Such a thing may happen. I hope it does. But, short of Mel Gibson's power to hear women's thoughts -- and that actually comes off as manipulative -- I doubt most people will encounter it in their lives except in moments. For most people, it will be like my parents, folks from different backgrounds (auto-workers family and liberally educated family, in the case of my folks), with different personalities and ways of speaking, different ways of approaching the world. For most people, forming a household will be a struggle, and will require a lot of patience and willingness to communicate and overlook faults.
That too is poetic. The couple that has learned to live a common life over the course of years, who has stopped expecting the other to 'be in his head' (as L. put it), but has come to understand the other person both as an individual and as an other half. Seeing people learn to love is quite poetic.
The professor I mentioned above told a story about two elderly people that he saw. He imagined that they had been together for 60 years. They went into a restaurant, not really speaking, just walking side by side. They didn't hold hands. They didn't touch. They only occasionally glanced at each other. As an aging married man himself, he was convinced that this expressed being 'in love.' I don't know about that, but I think it is poetic. The level of acceptance of the other person implicit in the imagine is astounding.
My papers this semester were on the unity of life and the unity of being respectively. I was forced, against my will, to come to a conclusion I originally wished to avoid. That conclusion is that individuality is, inescapably, prior to commonality. We are first and foremost individuals.
Where, then, does eros fit into it? If eros is, as C.S. Lewis stated, a death-wish, why do we have this death wish? It was Christopher West who said that there are three rings in marriage, beyond the two wedding rings, there is suffering. Why is it that passion drives us to the point of throwing ourselves headlong into something that would involve suffering and death? (the image of the crucified comes to mind...)
Eros is a death wish. I don't really doubt that. But it makes sense when you really think about it. If eros is to last, I have to die, and you have to die. It must become 'we,' and 'we' has to be more than the combination of you and me. I have to die to myself to be yours, and you have to die to yourself to be mine: otherwise I remain mine, and you remain yours.
Eros, which always gives the feeling of unity, even when the unity is ficted (I mean feigned or faked, but not intentionally so), encounters the frustration of individuality. Eros ultimately despairs, for it cannot flower as it would flower. Perhaps this is why all the great examples of love in ancient times were tragedies. Eros is the story of life, but the life of love is the story of death.
Where do these reflections take me? they are so far away from what I've been thinking for the last few days. I have been swept along in this post by the tag end of a particularly interesting day. I never thought, even 4 hours ago, that the day could possibly end like this. Thought of 'love' and 'ever after'? an appreciation of the poetry of life? it is so different in character from the day I just traversed, and even from all my thoughts of late. What has made me suddenly so cheerful?
Cheerful. Yes. But cheerful with a certain savor of bittersweetness. For, you see, I have come quite a long way in a mere 9 days, and where I am is tenuous. I do not doubt that I love poetry, myths, fairy tales, and the like (though I don't so much like poetry, myths, fairy tales, and suchlike). It is pleasant to enjoy it. And I do so hope that my friends lives are/will be fairy tales (bearing in mind that the fairy tale never hides the bad). The savor of bittersweetness, a sidetaste on my palette, comes when my reflective thoughts turn reflexive.
I wrote a few entries ago, to the spirit of the road less traveled by, of my excitement regarding my own future, that I was at a fork, and I did not know which way I would take, but either way it would be poetry. I have no doubt of this. My life will be poetry. What I lack now is the fork. It was not just one direction of the fork that vanished since I wrote that a fourth of a year ago: it was both paths. Fr. Myer's homily on Sunday was on fortitude as a gift of the Holy Spirit. That is certainly what I need right now. Fortitude and patience. For it will surely be at least a year before my life starts moving. I shall fill the year or more: I shall get a job, write, take the GREs, etc. It will be an enjoyable year, but I suspect it will be a year of limbo: a year where I am coming from nowhere and going to nowhere.
That can introduce bittersweetness into things, because love is a deathwish, and I would plunge into the depths of death's dark dread without a second look back. That option is not open to me. And that too is poetic. But it isn't a poem I can get exciting about. It is the poetry of the hidden years of Christ and day to day toil of a man. It is the poetry that goes unloved and unnoticed while it's being written.
But love is a deathwish, and I will not die alone.
|
|
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Some unworked thoughts. We'll see how many of them I end up embracing.
We are aware in this day and age that sex is often merely regarded as an activity like any other: something to do that is somewhat enjoyable. Those of us with strong experiences of the numinal (read : the wonder and awe that results from encounters with the transcendental) oftentimes emphasize at least the religious if not the sacred nature of sex. The religious nature is also used by the mundane to argue for and against such things as homosexual unions. But we emphasise the sacred because we recognise that sex has always been an act of worship. It is not without reason that many temples had prostitutes, that prophetesses prophesied in the thralls of passion, or that orgies often accompanied religious services. The pagans who engaged in this were, in my opinion, in no way filled with the sort of mechanistic lust that consumes modern man. Cult prostitution is not an experience like street prostitution, nor orgasmic worship an experience like the modern worship of orgasms. Sex as sacred is an experience outside the purview of most men today, as sex as vital and sex as spiritual is likewise out of ken.
There is a tendency to deny one of the possible aspects of sex for either ulterior motives, compromise with concupiscence, or simplification. Sex is certainly religious, likewise numinal, also sacred, sensible, sensuous, spiritual, serious, silly, and social. Some embrace the religious without any experience of the numinal or sacred in order to either preserve traditional marriage or embrace new forms of marriage. Others recognize the sensible nature or even the sensuous nature of sex while loosing the sacred or the spiritual. Some make it so serious that they cease to be silly or, indeed, to have fun. Others so lessen its notional content that it looses its somber character, ceases to be anything more than minimally expressive, and even stops being meaningful beyond the viewpoint of a rather exterior form of experience. Yet the solace of sex is lost to some degree when some true element of its notion is utterly lacking in experience.
I think that the two places that we have most lost the experience and even the notion wholistic sex are the realms of the sacred and the social. I don't even see many people trying to restore these two realms. Sex as a sacrament is sex as worship. Sex as a procreative type act is sex as political activity. But we see sex as private. Is sex is worship and political activity, it is not purely private. It has consequences and ramifications. God has no place in the world of private passion. Neither is it possible to betray, injure, or even impact those not present. Sex, inherently social because it most of needs involve two people, becomes hedonistic and even narcissistic. In fact, sex always involves nor than 2 persons. It impacts a field of persons and has societal ramififications. It also includes at least divine if not angelic persons. It is a rich spiritual act, an immense vital action, a biological activity.
Some thinkers have posited that through the primordial activities of sexual, one enters into a stream of life that brings about unity not just with persons, but even unity with all of life. In sex one is most like the angels and most like the animals.
Of course, I won't deny that it is absolutely ridiculous to deny that sex should be a private as of love between two people.
That I do not deny that is, however, exactly my point. I want to feel free to live in the tension of battling truths. I do not want to deny the mundane character of it in favor the supernal. Nor to reject the private or public character. To reduce it to mechanism, sensation, sensuality, vitality, or spirituality. I do not want to notionalize it excessively nor deny the meaning content of it.
People are too ready to either shrug off completely the philosophy (or theology!) of sex or solve the experiential tensions by reducing its cognitive content to something simple.
|
|
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
|
|
|