The simplest explanation is that people want to express their appreciation to those who assisted with the Mass: the musicians, the readers, servers and, of course, the clergy. This otherwise benign gesture, while well-intentioned, has become a normal part of the liturgy in a growing number of parishes. Unfortunately, it reveals a serious misunderstanding of what the Mass is all about.
Why do people clap? It’s customary to clap at the end of a performance, even mediocre ones. You buy your ticket, you find your seat and you watch politely as the performers do their thing. At the end of the performance, you clap. If it’s an especially good performance,
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Thursday, December 10, 2009
The Road
Starring Viggo Mortensen (Lord of the Rings) and Kodi Smit-McPhee
If you want to see what a world without God looks like, see “The Road.” It’s a rather dark and depressing film, but I recommend it. It’s the story about a father and his 10 year old son who have survived a mysterious, apocalyptic cataclysm which has destroyed nearly all life on the planet. The movie follows their journey from their home in the mountains to the coast, where they hope things will be better. Food is virtually non-existent. As a result, some people have turned to cannibalism to survive. Much of the dramatic tension in the movie involves the father and son eluding gangs who prey on other humans. Clinging to each other in love, they are able to survive.
Throughout the film dark, heavy clouds hang in the sky, adding to the hopelessness of the situation. The earth is dying. Nobody can be trusted. Many people, including his wife, have committed suicide. But father and son don’t give up. The father does everything he can to stay alive, to protect his son and teach him how to survive in merciless and dangerous world. One of the first rules is not to trust anyone. But the boy is still young. He has not completely lost his innocence, even though he is very much aware of the dangers. In one scene the pair come to an abandoned farmhouse. Upstairs, they discover the gruesome remains of the owner in his bed. As the father takes the blanket from the corpse he notices the shock on the boy’s face. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he says matter-of-factly.
Most importantly though the boy has not lost his faith in humanity. He’s cautious, but he still has the capacity to trust and to see the good in others. In another scene, the boy and his father meet an old man (played by Robert Duvall) stumbling along the road. At the boy’s insistence they give him some food from what little they have. That evening around the fire, after the boy has fallen asleep, the old man says, “When I saw your son I thought I was seeing an angel.” In this dying world where cannibalism is prevalent children, being easy prey, have become practically extinct. The father replies, “To me, he’s more than an angel. He’s God!”
The boy is a Christ-like figure for he is a beacon of hope and light in a very dark and dangerous world. He reminded me of that passage in John‘s gospel which says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5) The world into which Jesus was born was full of despair and hopelessness. True, the world was at peace (Pax Romana) and Rome was at the height of its power, but there was a spiritual ennui, torpor, malaise that was sapping the life from Rome and her citizens. The emperor provided games and bread in abundance in order to mollify the people, but deep down the empire was dying.
There are other religiously significant scenes that I could describe that, I think, makes the film worth seeing. You should see the movie for yourself. Like I said, it’s a dark film, but as the gospel of John put it, there is a ray of light that pierces through the gloominess leaving you with a sense of hope in spite of the darkness.
If you want to see what a world without God looks like, see “The Road.” It’s a rather dark and depressing film, but I recommend it. It’s the story about a father and his 10 year old son who have survived a mysterious, apocalyptic cataclysm which has destroyed nearly all life on the planet. The movie follows their journey from their home in the mountains to the coast, where they hope things will be better. Food is virtually non-existent. As a result, some people have turned to cannibalism to survive. Much of the dramatic tension in the movie involves the father and son eluding gangs who prey on other humans. Clinging to each other in love, they are able to survive.
Throughout the film dark, heavy clouds hang in the sky, adding to the hopelessness of the situation. The earth is dying. Nobody can be trusted. Many people, including his wife, have committed suicide. But father and son don’t give up. The father does everything he can to stay alive, to protect his son and teach him how to survive in merciless and dangerous world. One of the first rules is not to trust anyone. But the boy is still young. He has not completely lost his innocence, even though he is very much aware of the dangers. In one scene the pair come to an abandoned farmhouse. Upstairs, they discover the gruesome remains of the owner in his bed. As the father takes the blanket from the corpse he notices the shock on the boy’s face. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he says matter-of-factly.
Most importantly though the boy has not lost his faith in humanity. He’s cautious, but he still has the capacity to trust and to see the good in others. In another scene, the boy and his father meet an old man (played by Robert Duvall) stumbling along the road. At the boy’s insistence they give him some food from what little they have. That evening around the fire, after the boy has fallen asleep, the old man says, “When I saw your son I thought I was seeing an angel.” In this dying world where cannibalism is prevalent children, being easy prey, have become practically extinct. The father replies, “To me, he’s more than an angel. He’s God!”
The boy is a Christ-like figure for he is a beacon of hope and light in a very dark and dangerous world. He reminded me of that passage in John‘s gospel which says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5) The world into which Jesus was born was full of despair and hopelessness. True, the world was at peace (Pax Romana) and Rome was at the height of its power, but there was a spiritual ennui, torpor, malaise that was sapping the life from Rome and her citizens. The emperor provided games and bread in abundance in order to mollify the people, but deep down the empire was dying.
There are other religiously significant scenes that I could describe that, I think, makes the film worth seeing. You should see the movie for yourself. Like I said, it’s a dark film, but as the gospel of John put it, there is a ray of light that pierces through the gloominess leaving you with a sense of hope in spite of the darkness.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Creation: God's First Sacrament
I received a contact on my facebook from a guy I went to grammar school with. We were best friends in fifth and sixth grade, but I haven’t heard from him in ….. never mind; it was a long time ago.
At any rate, my old friend was surprised by the fact that I’m Catholic and work for the Archdiocese of Denver. His question to me was intriguing: “Did you find some of your spiritualism in nature?” “Spiritualism” I thought, “that’s an interesting word.” I don’t know what he meant by it, but it did prompt me to think about the connection between God, or that mysterious Other that people can’t or won’t name, and nature and evangelization.
I work at the John Paul II Center for the New Evangelization. From my office I can see the snow covered Rockies from Pike’s Peak to Mt. Evans. It’s really incredible and one of the things that makes being Catholic in the Archdiocese of Denver so special. The connection between God’s goodness revealed in nature and the work we do here is always right there in front of you. You can’t miss it.
For many people, nature is their first contact with God. Sometimes it’s their only contact. For some, nature is God. Be that as it may, nature is the first announcement of the Gospel whether they recognize it or not, for most people can’t help but feel the inherent goodness in it. Nature has a transcendent quality that points to something beyond itself, and most people sense that.
Nature has always spoken to me of something, or Someone, beyond it. Maybe it’s because nature makes me feel so small and vulnerable. Here in Colorado, that sense of smallness is especially noticeable when you're working your way up a 14er struggling for oxygen. The feelings I had when I went to church as a kid were not that much different from the one's I had when I was playing outside or fishing with my dad in the Sierras.
Those feelings haven’t changed much over the years. The vast panoramas and huge skies from the summit of a mountain speak of God’s magnificence. The afternoon thunderstorms that appear suddenly out of nowhere or a raging forest fire remind you of God’s power and unpredictability; the clear-flowing streams of His life-giving spirit.
Creation makes the infinite, invisible, transcendent God present so that we can know Him. Creation is not God, of course, but it points to Him and reveals His glory. As Scripture says, “The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament proclaims his handiwork!” (Psalm 19:1).
The Church Fathers often spoke of creation as God’s first sacrament. It’s the perfect word. It’s not a word you hear everyday either. It’s a uniquely Catholic word. The Church Fathers also talked about two “books” that God uses to teach us about Himself: the Bible and the ‘book’ of nature. Today, when most people are so conscious about the environment, nature can be an effective ‘springboard’ to start talking about God.
My old friend from grammar school, who is a very accomplished artist said, “I have found nature to be such a great teacher about light and color, and dynamic change, that I imagine you'd find things there as well to contemplate in your line of work.” He’s got that right. You can see his work here: http://billcone.blogspot.com/
At any rate, my old friend was surprised by the fact that I’m Catholic and work for the Archdiocese of Denver. His question to me was intriguing: “Did you find some of your spiritualism in nature?” “Spiritualism” I thought, “that’s an interesting word.” I don’t know what he meant by it, but it did prompt me to think about the connection between God, or that mysterious Other that people can’t or won’t name, and nature and evangelization.
I work at the John Paul II Center for the New Evangelization. From my office I can see the snow covered Rockies from Pike’s Peak to Mt. Evans. It’s really incredible and one of the things that makes being Catholic in the Archdiocese of Denver so special. The connection between God’s goodness revealed in nature and the work we do here is always right there in front of you. You can’t miss it.
For many people, nature is their first contact with God. Sometimes it’s their only contact. For some, nature is God. Be that as it may, nature is the first announcement of the Gospel whether they recognize it or not, for most people can’t help but feel the inherent goodness in it. Nature has a transcendent quality that points to something beyond itself, and most people sense that.
Nature has always spoken to me of something, or Someone, beyond it. Maybe it’s because nature makes me feel so small and vulnerable. Here in Colorado, that sense of smallness is especially noticeable when you're working your way up a 14er struggling for oxygen. The feelings I had when I went to church as a kid were not that much different from the one's I had when I was playing outside or fishing with my dad in the Sierras.
Those feelings haven’t changed much over the years. The vast panoramas and huge skies from the summit of a mountain speak of God’s magnificence. The afternoon thunderstorms that appear suddenly out of nowhere or a raging forest fire remind you of God’s power and unpredictability; the clear-flowing streams of His life-giving spirit.
Creation makes the infinite, invisible, transcendent God present so that we can know Him. Creation is not God, of course, but it points to Him and reveals His glory. As Scripture says, “The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament proclaims his handiwork!” (Psalm 19:1).
The Church Fathers often spoke of creation as God’s first sacrament. It’s the perfect word. It’s not a word you hear everyday either. It’s a uniquely Catholic word. The Church Fathers also talked about two “books” that God uses to teach us about Himself: the Bible and the ‘book’ of nature. Today, when most people are so conscious about the environment, nature can be an effective ‘springboard’ to start talking about God.
My old friend from grammar school, who is a very accomplished artist said, “I have found nature to be such a great teacher about light and color, and dynamic change, that I imagine you'd find things there as well to contemplate in your line of work.” He’s got that right. You can see his work here: http://billcone.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Anglican Reunification
One of the fruits of Vatican II was a commitment to ecumenism with a view toward the reunification of the Church in obedience to Christ’s prayer: “That they all may be one.” (John 17:21). No one, of course, knew how or when that would happen, or what shape it would take. In a startling new development, Pope Benedict XVI has authorized the creation of a new Church structure, called “personal ordinariates” (basically non-geographical dioceses) to accommodate Anglicans who have been seeking closer ties with Rome for a number of years. As a former Episcopal priest myself, this development is most welcome. According to Cardinal Levada, Prefect for the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) the new provision is “a recognition that many Anglicans share the Catholic faith and that Anglicans have a spiritual and liturgical life worth preserving.” It is estimated that some 400,000 Anglicans worldwide will be affected by this provision.
Read more: Anglicans
Read more: Anglicans
Sacred Direction
“If then you have been raised with Christ seek those things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.” (Colossians 3:1)
If you want to get people excited, or just get their attention, bring up something having to do with the liturgy.
In August Bishop Michael Slattery of the diocese of Tulsa wrote an article about celebrating the Mass ad orientem (“toward the east”). One of the reasons he celebrates the Mass that way, he said, besides the fact that it’s been the constant practice of the Church for two millennia, is that it magnifies the sacredness of the Mass by focusing on the transcendence of God. In the last 40 years as the priest and people celebrated the Eucharist facing each other, the sense of God’s majesty and transcendence has diminished. The lessening of a sense of the sacred is reflected, I believe, in the way people dress. If you’re having a picnic together, it doesn’t matter how you dress. In fact, in that situation casual attire is quite appropriate. But if you’re going to worship the King of kings and Lord of lords, you’d be inclined to dress differently. True, God is near us, for “in him we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17:28). But to suppose that such closeness means that we are identical with God is a serious mistake. God remains, even in his closeness, wholly other.
If you want to get people excited, or just get their attention, bring up something having to do with the liturgy.
In August Bishop Michael Slattery of the diocese of Tulsa wrote an article about celebrating the Mass ad orientem (“toward the east”). One of the reasons he celebrates the Mass that way, he said, besides the fact that it’s been the constant practice of the Church for two millennia, is that it magnifies the sacredness of the Mass by focusing on the transcendence of God. In the last 40 years as the priest and people celebrated the Eucharist facing each other, the sense of God’s majesty and transcendence has diminished. The lessening of a sense of the sacred is reflected, I believe, in the way people dress. If you’re having a picnic together, it doesn’t matter how you dress. In fact, in that situation casual attire is quite appropriate. But if you’re going to worship the King of kings and Lord of lords, you’d be inclined to dress differently. True, God is near us, for “in him we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17:28). But to suppose that such closeness means that we are identical with God is a serious mistake. God remains, even in his closeness, wholly other.
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