If you haven't seen the video yet, I think it's important to not only read what comes out of various offices and what is reported on various public figures' remarks, but also to hear and see it from them directly. Here is a link to an article with the video clip and somewhat of a transcript, as well as links to longer video segments:
http://gma.yahoo.com/blogs/abc-blogs/president-obama-affirms-his-support-for-same-sex-marriage.html
LifeSiteNews has a more critical article that incorporates Obama's history of statements on the issue, in more substantial detail:
http://www.lifesitenews.com/news/obama-says-his-support-for-same-sex-marriage-based-on-the-golden-rule
I think that it is important to note that Obama seems uncomfortable delivering these remarks, as though his "affirmation" (his term) is hesitating: "at a certain point
I've just concluded that for me personally it is important for me to go
ahead and affirm that I think same sex couples should be able to get
married" could nonsubstantively be reduced to "I think same sex couples should be able to get married". It gave me great hope to see Secretary Sibelius (HHS) shifting her weight nervously and struggling to hold a blank expression as Obama announced the controversial January mandate to her department. Obama's hesitating expressions, especially in the critical moment in this statement on same-sex marriages, as well as Secretary Sibelius' nervous body language, give evidence of the intuitive notion that what was just spoken was incorrect. This realization is precisely the fissure in the dam that will ultimately burst wide the floodgates of truth.
Oh, how we pray for the day when those who hold tight to the self-defeating doctrine of relativism will realize their folly. It's not that "I have the truth and you don't," however true or false this may be, and in degrees of truth and falsehood; rather, it is the case that the truth is out there: I seek it, and relativists reject or ignore it. The truth speaks for itself, and sets us free.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
Government rant
I just received this Obama Administration email from David Plouffe (Senior Advisor to President Barack Obama). Here are the opening lines:
Huh??? Ok legislative process is slow and cumbersome because of having to satisfy so many interests. So definitely agree with "concern ... inaction" in Congress "this year." Notice how that first paragraph is book-ended with "Americans" capitalized and plural - see how much that says about the appeal of this message?
But look at the following paragraph. It presumes that we were trying to work without Congress ("but we need [it]"), which, in fact, is precisely what Obama has tried to do. In fact, he said in his January speech making the HHS mandate public, that he was, in very similar words, "tired of waiting for Congress" and that "we needed to do this faster" than Congress could or would.
And "Obama is doing everything in his power" - in fact, he's overstepping. And then "not surprisingly" - because it's in the Constitution - we "require legislation" to "move our economy forward."
Plouffe, on behalf of the Obama administration, appeals to the middle class, then, creating an atmosphere of urgency - a critical window of incredible opportunity, but how hesitating is the language that follows? "to move forward" and "create jobs" (but not fill them) and "help restore" but not restore. Perhaps it's being realistic, but so much of politics is about cloud-surfing idealism at this stage in the game...
Along the same lines, after detailing the President's checklist of the next economic recovery legislation he is pushing, Plouffe closes with the following:
This whole game (honestly what so much of politics is) stands in the starkest contrast to everything that I'm studying about philosophy and its applications and ramifications for both personal and state ethics and understanding the values that should motivate personal as well as political action and policy.
Come on, America, wake back up and let's do things right, because there is such a thing as right; there must be.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Good afternoon --
Most Americans are concerned that all we'll see from Congress this year is inaction. Count me as one of those Americans.
But the fact is we need Congress. President Obama is doing everything in his power to move our economy forward. Not surprisingly though, the proposals with the biggest impact require legislation.
So at this make-or-break moment for the middle class, the President has called on Congress to move forward with a concrete plan that creates jobs and helps restore middle class security.
Huh??? Ok legislative process is slow and cumbersome because of having to satisfy so many interests. So definitely agree with "concern ... inaction" in Congress "this year." Notice how that first paragraph is book-ended with "Americans" capitalized and plural - see how much that says about the appeal of this message?
But look at the following paragraph. It presumes that we were trying to work without Congress ("but we need [it]"), which, in fact, is precisely what Obama has tried to do. In fact, he said in his January speech making the HHS mandate public, that he was, in very similar words, "tired of waiting for Congress" and that "we needed to do this faster" than Congress could or would.
And "Obama is doing everything in his power" - in fact, he's overstepping. And then "not surprisingly" - because it's in the Constitution - we "require legislation" to "move our economy forward."
Plouffe, on behalf of the Obama administration, appeals to the middle class, then, creating an atmosphere of urgency - a critical window of incredible opportunity, but how hesitating is the language that follows? "to move forward" and "create jobs" (but not fill them) and "help restore" but not restore. Perhaps it's being realistic, but so much of politics is about cloud-surfing idealism at this stage in the game...
Along the same lines, after detailing the President's checklist of the next economic recovery legislation he is pushing, Plouffe closes with the following:
That's it. It's straightforward and entirely within Congress's power to pass and send to the President for his signature.It's a further appeal to the American people that Congress is so ineffective that the President must hold their hands and spoon-feed them ideas for new laws, and based on what we have seen, it's even more than that - it's a threat to "pass this or else" - and the "or else" is that Obama will once again push his Executive branch over the edge and press an agency to do his dirty work in the regulatory sphere so that the public will come back and beg Congress to give in. Seriously.
This whole game (honestly what so much of politics is) stands in the starkest contrast to everything that I'm studying about philosophy and its applications and ramifications for both personal and state ethics and understanding the values that should motivate personal as well as political action and policy.
Come on, America, wake back up and let's do things right, because there is such a thing as right; there must be.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Monday, May 07, 2012
People People
So my last post was April 12... and so much has happened in the past month! We had a day of recollection, celebrated with the transitional deacons who will be ordained priests this summer, attended the closing ceremonies at Boston's Eucharistic Congress for young adults and college students, and filmed interviews for the upcoming Seminarian Scholarship Dinner, and I donated platelets twice (I am a regular bi-weekly platelet donor with the Red Cross).
Continuing (to some extent) the theme of my previous post, I would like to share a little bit about what is commonly referred to as the "people person" disposition. What I understand it to refer to is people who have a natural tendency or inclination to interact with others, to be personable, both in sharing their emotions and being willing to receive others' sharing of emotions, and in all of these ways, to enter into communion with others (to use a more theological phrase).
I have found that in my formation, which is as much instructive (someone teaching or sharing their experience) as it is experiential on a personal level (the program providing opportunities to discover more about myself and about the life and work of priests and religious, especially Oblates), I have come to be more of a people-person.
This past month has been evidence of this, as I was reflecting with my spiritual director recently. I discovered in my journal that the past month has been full of various encounters and "conversations" (the word I frequently used in my journal) that have led to my realizing some insight or helping someone else to, or just receiving the consolation and gratification that comes from/with being present to someone who needed to share a troubling incident and their reactions to it or discuss their reactions to some news that we all received.
It's these moments of deeper contact among persons, and in our sharing, that the communion to which Christ called His church is realized. We have evidence of this in our innate longing for human relationships that complement and support us, and elevating those relationships by the infusion of the divine love that we are called to express to one another is how the fullest sense of communion is reached.
We were just reflecting in our Introduction to Sacred Scripture class this morning that, when we pray the psalms, our personal disposition may be quite opposed to what is expressed in the psalm (a state of joy, yet reading a psalm of lamentation or despair). This becomes, then, an opportunity to pray these psalms for those who are in a state that would be helped by what the psalm expresses, giving voice to others' longing for redemption or consolation, for justification or the return of their former prosperity. They can be an opportunity for us, when saddened or angry, to rejoice with those who are happy, celebrating their reception of grace and their blessedness. It is this kind of communion, of sharing in each other's experiences, that characterizes the heights of our life on this earth.
While I am both distant and isolated from my younger sister, Sr. Anna Sophia, who is a novice preparing to make her First Profession of Religious Vows this summer, we have a great sense of closeness based on precisely this sense of communion. Through our letters, we are able to share our experiences that most affect us, and to reassure each other of our prayers for one another. I also know that due to her daily schedule (and the difference in time zones), we actually pray Morning Prayer at the same time each day, using the same universal prayers of the Church, and in this way, also express this communion of persons.
Coming from a background of computer science (though I did pursue a minor concentration in speech/communication studies), I never quite identified with the "people person" idea. I appreciated silence, and often found it difficult to initiate conversations or really enter into the situation of my "conversation partner." I have been learning now that this is inherent to communion, and that I actually want to be that present to others in conversation and in ministry. In personality psychology, it has been identified that, on the spectrum of introversion–extroversion, a great many "quiet" people are, in fact, extroverts, in that they draw their energy and drive from others, rather than finding it within. I was surprised by this phenomenon when I took a simple survey that classified me as an extrovert, though I was not the outgoing, center-of-the-party guy that I thought exemplified that label.
I also see my own growth in this area of "people-people" in how I interact with the guys in the house, in my perceptiveness of my own relationships with each of them, and in my conscious efforts along those lines to seek opportunities to deepen the relationships that I feel are more distant. We are not machines, and we are not programmable, by many means. But I believe that the desire that has been placed in our hearts for communion with one another merits our attention to fostering growth in that communion, and that our common human dignity demands it.
In this world in which we seek so often to reduce our reality to cold, hard, facts and measurable empirical data, let us strive all the more to maintain those aspects of our experience that remain unquantifiable, that transcend the confines of the technical sciences, and that, ultimately, give real and lasting meaning to our lives.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Continuing (to some extent) the theme of my previous post, I would like to share a little bit about what is commonly referred to as the "people person" disposition. What I understand it to refer to is people who have a natural tendency or inclination to interact with others, to be personable, both in sharing their emotions and being willing to receive others' sharing of emotions, and in all of these ways, to enter into communion with others (to use a more theological phrase).
I have found that in my formation, which is as much instructive (someone teaching or sharing their experience) as it is experiential on a personal level (the program providing opportunities to discover more about myself and about the life and work of priests and religious, especially Oblates), I have come to be more of a people-person.
This past month has been evidence of this, as I was reflecting with my spiritual director recently. I discovered in my journal that the past month has been full of various encounters and "conversations" (the word I frequently used in my journal) that have led to my realizing some insight or helping someone else to, or just receiving the consolation and gratification that comes from/with being present to someone who needed to share a troubling incident and their reactions to it or discuss their reactions to some news that we all received.
It's these moments of deeper contact among persons, and in our sharing, that the communion to which Christ called His church is realized. We have evidence of this in our innate longing for human relationships that complement and support us, and elevating those relationships by the infusion of the divine love that we are called to express to one another is how the fullest sense of communion is reached.
We were just reflecting in our Introduction to Sacred Scripture class this morning that, when we pray the psalms, our personal disposition may be quite opposed to what is expressed in the psalm (a state of joy, yet reading a psalm of lamentation or despair). This becomes, then, an opportunity to pray these psalms for those who are in a state that would be helped by what the psalm expresses, giving voice to others' longing for redemption or consolation, for justification or the return of their former prosperity. They can be an opportunity for us, when saddened or angry, to rejoice with those who are happy, celebrating their reception of grace and their blessedness. It is this kind of communion, of sharing in each other's experiences, that characterizes the heights of our life on this earth.
While I am both distant and isolated from my younger sister, Sr. Anna Sophia, who is a novice preparing to make her First Profession of Religious Vows this summer, we have a great sense of closeness based on precisely this sense of communion. Through our letters, we are able to share our experiences that most affect us, and to reassure each other of our prayers for one another. I also know that due to her daily schedule (and the difference in time zones), we actually pray Morning Prayer at the same time each day, using the same universal prayers of the Church, and in this way, also express this communion of persons.
Coming from a background of computer science (though I did pursue a minor concentration in speech/communication studies), I never quite identified with the "people person" idea. I appreciated silence, and often found it difficult to initiate conversations or really enter into the situation of my "conversation partner." I have been learning now that this is inherent to communion, and that I actually want to be that present to others in conversation and in ministry. In personality psychology, it has been identified that, on the spectrum of introversion–extroversion, a great many "quiet" people are, in fact, extroverts, in that they draw their energy and drive from others, rather than finding it within. I was surprised by this phenomenon when I took a simple survey that classified me as an extrovert, though I was not the outgoing, center-of-the-party guy that I thought exemplified that label.
I also see my own growth in this area of "people-people" in how I interact with the guys in the house, in my perceptiveness of my own relationships with each of them, and in my conscious efforts along those lines to seek opportunities to deepen the relationships that I feel are more distant. We are not machines, and we are not programmable, by many means. But I believe that the desire that has been placed in our hearts for communion with one another merits our attention to fostering growth in that communion, and that our common human dignity demands it.
In this world in which we seek so often to reduce our reality to cold, hard, facts and measurable empirical data, let us strive all the more to maintain those aspects of our experience that remain unquantifiable, that transcend the confines of the technical sciences, and that, ultimately, give real and lasting meaning to our lives.
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Joy
Last week, I posted about the Easter Triduum, and that post was well-read; I'm glad that so many stopped by and got something out of it.
For me, having entered so deeply into the observance of Holy Week, contemplating the mystery of the Lord's Passion in its totality, and feeling the weight of my own cross, in a particular way in preparing for those celebrations, I was struck with awe at the Easter Vigil's proclamation of the resurrection - I got to share in those first disciples' wonder when the lights came on and we sung the Gloria and then celebrated the "fullness of time" and the height of the Paschal mystery in the Resurrection.
I also knew that my best friend was preparing to begin the Easter Vigil at her own parish, at which she would be baptized, confirmed, and receive Holy Communion for the first time. Our closeness first as academic colleagues and student leaders, which deepened into a supportive and trusting friendship, is now complemented by full communion in the Body of Christ, the Church, and it is an awesome occasion for rejoicing!
Yesterday I read a blog post (also from Easter Sunday) by an audacious student leader whom I met through the University Honors Program at Cal State Long Beach, someone whose talent for creative writing I've enjoyed via her blog. She has written about heartbreak and the challenges of law school as she chases her dreams, trying to hang on to good friends and cope with betrayal. But this time, she wrote about rediscovering her Catholic faith over the preceding several weeks, and the little old woman she refers to as her "Chicago abuelita" (Spanish for grandmother) who both inspired her and was inspired by her. This is the kind of story that likewise brings me joy and indeed the whole Church, in some mysterious way, is improved by this opening of one more heart, created for God's love, to receive it more fully.
And even further, I received an email from a young woman I met while studying abroad in Switzerland; it is a funny story. A colleague in the study-abroad program caught the train with me to Geneva one Sunday so that we could both attend our respective services. As he and I met up afterward and were beginning to look for a place to eat, two young women stopped us to ask for directions... we basically said that we were also new to the town and we hadn't yet seen the street they mentioned. When we parted ways, we had not taken but a few steps when we saw the street they were looking for, so we ran back to show them. It turns out they were also looking for a place to eat, that had been recommended them, and they invited us to join them. Brunch was fabulous and we swapped contact information; though they were Lebanese and in Switzerland for various reasons, it may have been somewhat odd to pretend that we might keep in touch. As it turns out, I have kept in touch with one of them over the almost 4 years now since we met there. Back to my point: I received this email from her this morning sharing a positive development in her personal life that gave her much joy, but more than just sharing in her happiness over her own situation, she also expressed a kind of zealous excitement in encouraging me to continue along this path of priestly formation, offering her prayers and thanking me for mine and those of my Dominican sister, and also taking inspiration from the parents of St. Therese de Lisieux in our common "fight for sanctity" (her words).
This convergence of so many causes for rejoicing, at the height of the Church's calendar and these moments of profound conversion and grace in the lives of these wonderful people really struck me this week!
I notice I've only spoken of women thus far (odd for a seminarian?)... two of my Oblate brothers also experienced some deeply moving events that were cause for rejoicing and which they shared with me over the past week: one, a recognition of how I participated (unknowingly) in his coming to terms with a serious event in his life, and another, just in the simple yet honest and deeply truthful sharing of our experience of growth in religious life.
It is said in the Gospels that there is much rejoicing in heaven over one repentant sinner than 99 righteous without need for repentance. It is also said that the whole Church feels both the sufferings and joys of each of its members, through the mysterious communion of the Body of Christ. This is something we can hear and ponder, but, because it is mystery, we often do not grasp its gravity. This week, I experienced very deeply the sense of ripples of joy spreading over the whole Church, humbly receiving them as the very real and profoundly impactful experiences of these particular people that I know. The element of suffering is, unfortunately, present as well, and I ask that you please join me in prayer for those who have died recently, among them, the sister of a brother Oblate, who lived a full life and leaves him as the only survivor of his immediate family; and the grandmother of a college dorm-mate; may they rest in peace.
Now, like Mary at the Finding of Jesus in the temple, let us "ponder these things" in our hearts, and look forward, with Easter Joy, to the coming of the Holy Spirit and the commemoration of the birth of the Church, who we are!
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
For me, having entered so deeply into the observance of Holy Week, contemplating the mystery of the Lord's Passion in its totality, and feeling the weight of my own cross, in a particular way in preparing for those celebrations, I was struck with awe at the Easter Vigil's proclamation of the resurrection - I got to share in those first disciples' wonder when the lights came on and we sung the Gloria and then celebrated the "fullness of time" and the height of the Paschal mystery in the Resurrection.
I also knew that my best friend was preparing to begin the Easter Vigil at her own parish, at which she would be baptized, confirmed, and receive Holy Communion for the first time. Our closeness first as academic colleagues and student leaders, which deepened into a supportive and trusting friendship, is now complemented by full communion in the Body of Christ, the Church, and it is an awesome occasion for rejoicing!
Yesterday I read a blog post (also from Easter Sunday) by an audacious student leader whom I met through the University Honors Program at Cal State Long Beach, someone whose talent for creative writing I've enjoyed via her blog. She has written about heartbreak and the challenges of law school as she chases her dreams, trying to hang on to good friends and cope with betrayal. But this time, she wrote about rediscovering her Catholic faith over the preceding several weeks, and the little old woman she refers to as her "Chicago abuelita" (Spanish for grandmother) who both inspired her and was inspired by her. This is the kind of story that likewise brings me joy and indeed the whole Church, in some mysterious way, is improved by this opening of one more heart, created for God's love, to receive it more fully.
And even further, I received an email from a young woman I met while studying abroad in Switzerland; it is a funny story. A colleague in the study-abroad program caught the train with me to Geneva one Sunday so that we could both attend our respective services. As he and I met up afterward and were beginning to look for a place to eat, two young women stopped us to ask for directions... we basically said that we were also new to the town and we hadn't yet seen the street they mentioned. When we parted ways, we had not taken but a few steps when we saw the street they were looking for, so we ran back to show them. It turns out they were also looking for a place to eat, that had been recommended them, and they invited us to join them. Brunch was fabulous and we swapped contact information; though they were Lebanese and in Switzerland for various reasons, it may have been somewhat odd to pretend that we might keep in touch. As it turns out, I have kept in touch with one of them over the almost 4 years now since we met there. Back to my point: I received this email from her this morning sharing a positive development in her personal life that gave her much joy, but more than just sharing in her happiness over her own situation, she also expressed a kind of zealous excitement in encouraging me to continue along this path of priestly formation, offering her prayers and thanking me for mine and those of my Dominican sister, and also taking inspiration from the parents of St. Therese de Lisieux in our common "fight for sanctity" (her words).
This convergence of so many causes for rejoicing, at the height of the Church's calendar and these moments of profound conversion and grace in the lives of these wonderful people really struck me this week!
I notice I've only spoken of women thus far (odd for a seminarian?)... two of my Oblate brothers also experienced some deeply moving events that were cause for rejoicing and which they shared with me over the past week: one, a recognition of how I participated (unknowingly) in his coming to terms with a serious event in his life, and another, just in the simple yet honest and deeply truthful sharing of our experience of growth in religious life.
It is said in the Gospels that there is much rejoicing in heaven over one repentant sinner than 99 righteous without need for repentance. It is also said that the whole Church feels both the sufferings and joys of each of its members, through the mysterious communion of the Body of Christ. This is something we can hear and ponder, but, because it is mystery, we often do not grasp its gravity. This week, I experienced very deeply the sense of ripples of joy spreading over the whole Church, humbly receiving them as the very real and profoundly impactful experiences of these particular people that I know. The element of suffering is, unfortunately, present as well, and I ask that you please join me in prayer for those who have died recently, among them, the sister of a brother Oblate, who lived a full life and leaves him as the only survivor of his immediate family; and the grandmother of a college dorm-mate; may they rest in peace.
Now, like Mary at the Finding of Jesus in the temple, let us "ponder these things" in our hearts, and look forward, with Easter Joy, to the coming of the Holy Spirit and the commemoration of the birth of the Church, who we are!
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Sunday, April 08, 2012
Triduum Sanctum
Buona Pasqua! (Italian greeting for "Happy Easter")
I had begun planning this post yesterday (Holy Saturday) but did not have a chance to finish it, due to all of the preparatory activities for our celebration of the Easter Vigil here.
According to Wikipedia, which cites catholicliturgy.org, the Paschal Triduum is "the period of three days that begins with the liturgy on the evening of Maundy Thursday (the vigil of Good Friday) and ends with evening prayer on Easter Sunday, the three-day period therefore from the evening of Maundy Thursday (excluding most of Thursday) to the evening of Resurrection Sunday."
My Holy Week observance began with the celebration of Passion (Palm) Sunday, on which we commemorate Jesus' joyful entrance into Jerusalem and then anticipate his Passion and death. That liturgy really set the tone for the week, giving us a dramatic descent into the tomb to await the Resurrection the following Sunday.
We took the men who are visiting us this week to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross for the Chrism Mass on Tuesday. It is a beautiful expression of the union of the ordained ministers, as deacons (both permanent and transitional), priests, bishops, and the Metropolitan of the local Greek Orthodox church attended. The priests all renew their promises to the Church and the bishop blesses the oils of the sick and of catechumens and consecrates the holy Chrism after mixing the balsam perfume into the olive oil. Chrism is used in consecrations and recalls the ancient practice of anointing prophets and kings, and in the Christian tradition, priests (on the palms) and bishops (on the head). This three-fold office that the Chrism is used to set someone apart for is the central mystery of Christ's work: he commissioned his disciples, and in turn, all believers, to participate in his work of ordering creation to himself [kingly], which includes discipline of ourselves to curb vices and cultivate virtue; his work of announcing the Word that He is [prophetic], including the teaching office of the Church (Magisterium) as well as the example of our own lives; and consecrating the world to Him and offering our lives as a sacrifice along with Him on the Cross [priestly]. All the baptized are called to participate in this work that Christ showed us, and in so doing, open themselves to receive sanctifying grace in abundance.
I always enjoy attending the Chrism Mass to see that grand expression of the priesthood, with over 200 priests from all over the Archdiocese in attendance, all praying together the Eucharistic prayer to consecrate the bread and wine, acting in the person of Christ (in persona Christi) and all in unison. It is an occasion that easily brings to mind my own calling and an opportunity to renew my spirit of surrender to that call, praying for the grace to continually accept God's will for me and to do it both with humble resignation and with the zeal that His Call stirs up in me. It is also an opportunity for the Cardinal to address his priests assembled and give them some advice and direction for the coming year. This year, he recalled advice he had given in years past and added to it continuing formation, according to every aspect of Blessed John Paul II's apostolic exhortation Pastores Dabo Vobis ("I give you shepherds," on the formation of priests in the circumstances of the present day) – that is, the four pillars of academic (theology), human, pastoral, and spiritual formation.
Whew, that was just Tuesday! Wednesday evening, we held a Tenebrae (Latin for "shadows" or "darkness") service here at St. Clement's (there was also one at the Cathedral). In it, we prayerfully, with readings, psalms, and hymns, commemorate Jesus' sacred wounds on the cross, and His death, in a special candle-light service in the dark; at the end, a sound like a clap of thunder represents the resurrection to come, and the faithful in attendance file out in silence by the light of the Paschal candle. It was the first time I had attended one, and because it was done so tastefully, and was well-rehearsed, I was really drawn into the sorrows of Christ and the significance of Mary's accompaniment during His Passion, which was also represented by a steady blue candle present throughout.
Thursday we had our last class of the week and then began our preparations for that day's service, the celebration of the Last Supper. I joined the choir for this liturgy, which was a very beautiful yet bittersweet celebration of the gift of the Eucharist and the priesthood and then the emptying of the Church as Jesus left the cenacle to the Garden of Gethsemane, where he was tormented by temptations to give up and not offer His life for our salvation. The Eucharist is completely removed from the church and the faithful walked in procession to our side chapel while singing the Eucharistic hymn by St. Thomas Aquinas, Pange lingua gloriosi. After the Mass, we piled into cars and set off on a prayerful and somber visit to seven nearby churches, an ancient tradition that likely goes back to visiting the seven station churches (basilicas) in Rome. We would arrive at each church, enter their altar of repose, where the Eucharist is reserved for adoration that night only, and spend a few minutes there in prayer, answering Christ's request of his disciples in the Garden to "keep watch." We used the Taize chant "Stay with Me" which meditatively sets that solemn tone of the vigil.
Good Friday saw many more preparations for the commemoration of the Lord's Passion that evening. I helped Fr. Peter Grover, OMV lead the Stations of the Cross at noontime; he stops four times during the fourteen stations to give a little reflection on the Passion. The one that struck me the most was that we can place ourselves in the scene in the person of Barrabas at Jesus' condemnation by Pilate – he is a sinner (a "notorious murderer" or "revolutionary", according to the various Gospels) that received life from Christ's sacrifice, and his name means "son of the father" (bar-abba). At 3pm, we began observed the first day of the Divine Mercy novena, chanting the Chaplet of Divine Mercy together in the empty church. I served the liturgy that evening, a very solemn liturgy with a silent entrance and closing procession, and a special procession of the cross after the homily and an opportunity for the faithful present to come up and reverence the cross, either by a bow or a touch or even a kiss. The cross is set out in a prominent place for the faithful to stay and pray there. We watched Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ to further enter into the spirit of the day.
Holy Saturday saw many preparations for the great solemnity of the Easter Vigil. All five of us postulants served the Mass together, each taking on specific roles during the liturgy; I was placed in charge of the fire and incense for the night, a role with which I am very familiar. One of my favorite parts of the Easter Vigil is the Gloria, during which bells are rung, the lights in the church come on, and we open the reredos doors, revealing lots of flowers and the angels on either side of the tabernacle, which were hidden behind those closed doors for the duration of Lent. The opening prayer is said, and we enter into the readings that celebrate the Resurrection, after hearing a snapshot of salvation history that prepared the way for this culmination. Following the Easter Vigil, after greeting people and cleaning things up, we gathered around the table for some Easter munchies in a humble "Resurrection Party," sharing stories of our family traditions for celebrating Easter and recalling various Oblate stories.
After retiring last night around 1:30am, I rose today at 7 with a song in my head: a praise and worship tune called "Mercy is falling." I had not heard this song in a couple years, and yet I rose practically singing it right away, and it is indeed relevant. Of all the times in the year, this week of the Glorious Easter day is certainly the time at which the Church commemorates the opening of the floodgates of salvation, the gates of heaven, the pierced side of Christ from which flowed blood and water, life for the world. Mercy is indeed falling like a "sweet spring rain" giving life, cleansing and purifying and renewing the earth.
May you and your family have a most blessed Easter season and rejoice with the Virgin Mary, Queen of Heaven, (Regina caeli, laetare!) for the Lord has risen as He said (Resurrexit, sicut dixit!), and beg her intercession for us (Ora pro nobis Deum) as we press on with renewed strength and vigor to draw close to Christ and bring many others with us by our example and the offering of our lives with His.
Happy Easter!
Regina caeli, laetare, alleluia!
Quia quem meruisti portare, alleluia!
Resurrexit, sicut dixit, alleluia!
Ora pro nobis Deum, alleluia!
Gaude et laetare Virgo Maria, alleluia!
Quia surrexit Dominus vere alleluia!
Oremus: Deus qui per resurretionem Filii Tui Domini nostri Jesu Christi mundum laetificare dignatus es, praesta quaesumus, ut per eius Genitricem Virginem Mariam, perpetuae capiamus gaudia vitae. Per eundem Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regina_coeli
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
I had begun planning this post yesterday (Holy Saturday) but did not have a chance to finish it, due to all of the preparatory activities for our celebration of the Easter Vigil here.
According to Wikipedia, which cites catholicliturgy.org, the Paschal Triduum is "the period of three days that begins with the liturgy on the evening of Maundy Thursday (the vigil of Good Friday) and ends with evening prayer on Easter Sunday, the three-day period therefore from the evening of Maundy Thursday (excluding most of Thursday) to the evening of Resurrection Sunday."
My Holy Week observance began with the celebration of Passion (Palm) Sunday, on which we commemorate Jesus' joyful entrance into Jerusalem and then anticipate his Passion and death. That liturgy really set the tone for the week, giving us a dramatic descent into the tomb to await the Resurrection the following Sunday.
We took the men who are visiting us this week to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross for the Chrism Mass on Tuesday. It is a beautiful expression of the union of the ordained ministers, as deacons (both permanent and transitional), priests, bishops, and the Metropolitan of the local Greek Orthodox church attended. The priests all renew their promises to the Church and the bishop blesses the oils of the sick and of catechumens and consecrates the holy Chrism after mixing the balsam perfume into the olive oil. Chrism is used in consecrations and recalls the ancient practice of anointing prophets and kings, and in the Christian tradition, priests (on the palms) and bishops (on the head). This three-fold office that the Chrism is used to set someone apart for is the central mystery of Christ's work: he commissioned his disciples, and in turn, all believers, to participate in his work of ordering creation to himself [kingly], which includes discipline of ourselves to curb vices and cultivate virtue; his work of announcing the Word that He is [prophetic], including the teaching office of the Church (Magisterium) as well as the example of our own lives; and consecrating the world to Him and offering our lives as a sacrifice along with Him on the Cross [priestly]. All the baptized are called to participate in this work that Christ showed us, and in so doing, open themselves to receive sanctifying grace in abundance.
I always enjoy attending the Chrism Mass to see that grand expression of the priesthood, with over 200 priests from all over the Archdiocese in attendance, all praying together the Eucharistic prayer to consecrate the bread and wine, acting in the person of Christ (in persona Christi) and all in unison. It is an occasion that easily brings to mind my own calling and an opportunity to renew my spirit of surrender to that call, praying for the grace to continually accept God's will for me and to do it both with humble resignation and with the zeal that His Call stirs up in me. It is also an opportunity for the Cardinal to address his priests assembled and give them some advice and direction for the coming year. This year, he recalled advice he had given in years past and added to it continuing formation, according to every aspect of Blessed John Paul II's apostolic exhortation Pastores Dabo Vobis ("I give you shepherds," on the formation of priests in the circumstances of the present day) – that is, the four pillars of academic (theology), human, pastoral, and spiritual formation.
Whew, that was just Tuesday! Wednesday evening, we held a Tenebrae (Latin for "shadows" or "darkness") service here at St. Clement's (there was also one at the Cathedral). In it, we prayerfully, with readings, psalms, and hymns, commemorate Jesus' sacred wounds on the cross, and His death, in a special candle-light service in the dark; at the end, a sound like a clap of thunder represents the resurrection to come, and the faithful in attendance file out in silence by the light of the Paschal candle. It was the first time I had attended one, and because it was done so tastefully, and was well-rehearsed, I was really drawn into the sorrows of Christ and the significance of Mary's accompaniment during His Passion, which was also represented by a steady blue candle present throughout.
Thursday we had our last class of the week and then began our preparations for that day's service, the celebration of the Last Supper. I joined the choir for this liturgy, which was a very beautiful yet bittersweet celebration of the gift of the Eucharist and the priesthood and then the emptying of the Church as Jesus left the cenacle to the Garden of Gethsemane, where he was tormented by temptations to give up and not offer His life for our salvation. The Eucharist is completely removed from the church and the faithful walked in procession to our side chapel while singing the Eucharistic hymn by St. Thomas Aquinas, Pange lingua gloriosi. After the Mass, we piled into cars and set off on a prayerful and somber visit to seven nearby churches, an ancient tradition that likely goes back to visiting the seven station churches (basilicas) in Rome. We would arrive at each church, enter their altar of repose, where the Eucharist is reserved for adoration that night only, and spend a few minutes there in prayer, answering Christ's request of his disciples in the Garden to "keep watch." We used the Taize chant "Stay with Me" which meditatively sets that solemn tone of the vigil.
Good Friday saw many more preparations for the commemoration of the Lord's Passion that evening. I helped Fr. Peter Grover, OMV lead the Stations of the Cross at noontime; he stops four times during the fourteen stations to give a little reflection on the Passion. The one that struck me the most was that we can place ourselves in the scene in the person of Barrabas at Jesus' condemnation by Pilate – he is a sinner (a "notorious murderer" or "revolutionary", according to the various Gospels) that received life from Christ's sacrifice, and his name means "son of the father" (bar-abba). At 3pm, we began observed the first day of the Divine Mercy novena, chanting the Chaplet of Divine Mercy together in the empty church. I served the liturgy that evening, a very solemn liturgy with a silent entrance and closing procession, and a special procession of the cross after the homily and an opportunity for the faithful present to come up and reverence the cross, either by a bow or a touch or even a kiss. The cross is set out in a prominent place for the faithful to stay and pray there. We watched Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ to further enter into the spirit of the day.
Holy Saturday saw many preparations for the great solemnity of the Easter Vigil. All five of us postulants served the Mass together, each taking on specific roles during the liturgy; I was placed in charge of the fire and incense for the night, a role with which I am very familiar. One of my favorite parts of the Easter Vigil is the Gloria, during which bells are rung, the lights in the church come on, and we open the reredos doors, revealing lots of flowers and the angels on either side of the tabernacle, which were hidden behind those closed doors for the duration of Lent. The opening prayer is said, and we enter into the readings that celebrate the Resurrection, after hearing a snapshot of salvation history that prepared the way for this culmination. Following the Easter Vigil, after greeting people and cleaning things up, we gathered around the table for some Easter munchies in a humble "Resurrection Party," sharing stories of our family traditions for celebrating Easter and recalling various Oblate stories.
After retiring last night around 1:30am, I rose today at 7 with a song in my head: a praise and worship tune called "Mercy is falling." I had not heard this song in a couple years, and yet I rose practically singing it right away, and it is indeed relevant. Of all the times in the year, this week of the Glorious Easter day is certainly the time at which the Church commemorates the opening of the floodgates of salvation, the gates of heaven, the pierced side of Christ from which flowed blood and water, life for the world. Mercy is indeed falling like a "sweet spring rain" giving life, cleansing and purifying and renewing the earth.
May you and your family have a most blessed Easter season and rejoice with the Virgin Mary, Queen of Heaven, (Regina caeli, laetare!) for the Lord has risen as He said (Resurrexit, sicut dixit!), and beg her intercession for us (Ora pro nobis Deum) as we press on with renewed strength and vigor to draw close to Christ and bring many others with us by our example and the offering of our lives with His.
Happy Easter!
Regina caeli, laetare, alleluia!
Quia quem meruisti portare, alleluia!
Resurrexit, sicut dixit, alleluia!
Ora pro nobis Deum, alleluia!
Gaude et laetare Virgo Maria, alleluia!
Quia surrexit Dominus vere alleluia!
Oremus: Deus qui per resurretionem Filii Tui Domini nostri Jesu Christi mundum laetificare dignatus es, praesta quaesumus, ut per eius Genitricem Virginem Mariam, perpetuae capiamus gaudia vitae. Per eundem Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regina_coeli
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
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