THE POPE AND THE CARDINALS

 

 

 

 

 

“What are cardinals in the Catholic Church?” is a question I am often asked, especially when the Pope gets ready to name new ones.  So here goes a modified answer to the way I used to reply…

 

Cardinals are simply bishops or archbishops who have the additional responsibility of gathering to elect a new pope.  No cardinal at the age of 80 or above is qualified to enter the conclave [the gathering of cardinals in the Sistine Chapel for the election] and vote.

Who becomes a “cardinal”?  Historically, they were the bishops, priests and deacons most closely associated with the major churches in Rome [they were, in effect, a combination of local clergy, consultors, and vicars for the Bishop of Rome].  Even today, every cardinal is given charge of a church in Rome [Cardinal Newman’s church was San Giorgio in Velabro; Cardinal Dolan’s is Ss John and Paul, and so on].

More recently, cardinals have been so named if they are bishops of historically important, or very large, or very wealthy/influential dioceses.  Examples of the former would include Milan, Madrid, Vienna, or Paris.  Examples of the latter, in our country, would be New York, Philadelphia, Boston, or Chicago.

This practice has actually tipped the scales in a papal election [conclave] in an interesting way:  Italy of course always has led the percentage of cardinals, but the United States was #2.

Pope Francis is changing all this.

His newest nominations are representatives from the “ends of the earth” literally, and they reflect two very important realities.  The first is that the Holy Father is dedicated to making this crucial body of clerics truly international—representing the catholicity of the Catholic Church, especially in areas that are historically poor and suffering [and forgotten].  The second is that his selections are reflecting the new demographics of the Church:  its primary existence is in the Southern, not the Northern, Hemisphere. 
 
So now the best description of what it takes to be a cardinal is the place he can offer as a representative of a fully world-wide Church:  ALL voices need to be heard.

UPDATE... SOMETHING SURELY IS WRONG WITH THE PICTURE

Just to let people know, the marquee in front of the building housing "St Anthony Mary Claret" refers to itself as a "Roman Catholic Chapel."  But the website of the Society of St Pius X makes it clear this chapel is under their aegis.  So there is a misnomer here:  they can not be both "Roman Catholic" and part of the SSPX.  One or the other is wrong.  My hunch, sadly, is that this is a disingenuous attempt to appeal to liturgically disaffected conservative Catholics who think that by coming here they are in fact still part of the Church.  This is very sad, all around...

WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?

I have discovered a new church in Miramar Beach-- St Anthony Mary Claret, just a few blocks down from the condo where I am staying.
It is housed in a building which was (as I guess) an office building, though the only name in any of the office complexes was that of the owner of the building.  Perhaps she is renting it out; perhaps she sold it.
This church evidently subsists on one celebration of the Eucharist per month:  that of the "traditional Latin Mass."  I deduce this both from the marquee in front of the building and from the website.  
Of course, I am jumping to conclusions here, but as a regular (if infrequent) visitor to this area, I question this chapel's existence.  After all, less than a 5 minute walk from there is Resurrection Catholic Church, which has been a mainstay of the area for decades.  Why was it necessary to establish a 2nd building when Pope Benedict's motu proprio Summorum Pontificum allows for the celebration of this older rite on a basis dictated only by the desire of the faithful?  Establishing a separate "chapel" smacks of schism, at least to me.  And this is unfortunate.
But it is true.
For this is indeed NOT under the aegis of the Catholic bishop of Pensacola-Tallahassee, and it is NOT a "Catholic" chapel in any full sense of the term.  It is part of the schismatic "Society of St Pius X,"  excommunicated by Pope John Paul II, and who refused to be reconciled even by the great overtures toward them by Pope Benedict XVI.
It is very sad.  But people who crave the "Latin Mass" should know that this is not a Catholic service in any full sense of that term.  This is because the "traditional Latin Mass," even though trumpeted as a major issue, is NOT the real issue for the Society of St Pius X--Vatican II (pretty well in toto) is.  This especially means their rejection of documents like those on ecumenism, on relations with the Jews, on religious liberty, and on encounter with the modern world.  It is why the concession of Pope Benedict to allow for the celebration of the "Tridentine Mass" went nowhere with them.  It was only the pseudo-issue for them.  People who support them so they can enjoy the Latin Mass of their childhood are supporting (and rejecting) much more than they think...
Stanley Kubrick's last (I think) film was titled "Eyes Wide Shut."  We cannot afford that luxury, within the Church or in our dealings with those outside the Church.

THE POPE AND THE SYNOD

There is a minority of cardinals who are terribly upset by Pope Francis.  Some (for example, Cardinal Burke) have been relatively public in their criticism (though he is trying to back off from some of its implications); others are more, shall we say, covert.  Their great fear is that without the veneer of unformity, "common people" will become "confused."

I take this fear, on one level, deadly seriously.  It is true that there was much confusion after Vatican II, chiefly (in my view) because bishops and pastors chose to introduce the reforms that most touched people's regular lives (= liturgy) with resentment and virtually no preparation.  So the changes themselves were less an issue than their implementation.  Can the same kind of fear be justified today as a result of the Synod on the family?

First of all, we need to be clear:  an authentic "synod" requires free exchange of views.  Otherwise, it is a thinly-veiled rubber stamp for pre-existing conclusions (this latter is exactly what many cardinals in "power" in the pre-Vatican II days were hoping for that council).  When complaints were made to Pope John that bishops arguing and disagreeing was "improper," his reply was interesting:  "Speak up!  I didn't call you hear to sing together like monks in a choir."  Can you not hear the spirit of Pope Francis also in this comment?

He also insisted that he wanted the bishops to "speak their mind"--the last thing he wanted, he said, was for bishops to go home later and tell others, "I wanted to say 'X' or 'Y,' but I was afraid to because I didn't think it would be acceptable."  If bishops (successors of the Apostles in their own right, NOT simple "emmisaries" of the Vatican) cannot speak forthrightly in such an assemply, who can?

There are no conclusions that have come (nor could come) from the Synod until at least 2016.  Pope Francis is not obligated to accept every comment made by every bishop, but he has committed himself to listening to every honest expression of their reasoned points of view.   I have posted on Facebook what I take to be a pertinent analogy between those times and ours.  Please see them, and agree or disagree as you like.  But after all, do we believe (or not) that finally the Holy Spirit is really in charge?  Pope John surely thought so; it's why he was virtually 100% non-interventionist at the Council.  Pope Francis likewise wanted bishops freedom to speak from their hearts.  His message was really simple:  speak freely, and listen sympathetically.

We can do this, too.

PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE

Please bear with me and read this extended quote from John W O'Malley's A History of the Popes:

By 1968 five years had passed since John XXIII established the [secret] commission on birth control.  The very fact of the commission's existence indicated a reconsideration of Pius XI's prohibition in [his encyclical] Casti Cunubii, and the passing of years without a definitive statement on the matter from the Holy See seemed to suggest that a change was in the wind.  For most Catholics, including probably a majority of bishops, the silence indicated consent.  On July 25, 1968, however, [Pope] Paul [VI] issued Humanae Vitae, his most famous and controversial encyclical, in which he renewed the prohibition.
...The encyclical, more often criticized than studied, is a rich meditation on married love.  What the world seized upon, however, was the reiteration of Pius XI's strictures [against artificial contraceptives].  The reaction was fierce.

I write this because there are many, many comments about what was discussed in the recent Extraordinary Synod on the Family.  By turns the report of the conversations has been either praised or vilified--even though it is not only a preliminary presentation of the discussions, but also (even in any "final form") simply a prelude to the actual synodal Round 2, not to be held until October of 2015.

In other words, to reckon that change is "in the wind" (either rejoicing in or lamenting the possibility) is utterly premature.  Let the other shoe fall first, and that won't happen until some time after the October 2015 Synod, in fact.  Hopes and fears need not be very high at this point...

I will make one final observation about the Synod, Round 1:  the negative comments of bishops like Raymond Burke and Charles Chaput are simply to be expected.  They are playing Alfredo Ottaviani and Marcel Lefebvre to Pope Francis' St John XXIII and Bl Paul VI. 

It's all OK:  life goes on, and the Holy Spirit (thankfully) is ultimately in charge.

PATRIARCHS AND POPES

Having just received word from the government of Turkey of an official invitation to visit, Pope Francis is set to make a pilgrimage to the ancient city of Constantinople (modern-day Istanbul), the seat of the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew.  The timing of this visit is wonderful:  it will fall across the marking of the patronal feast of the Orthodox Church, that of St Andrew, on 30 November. 

For years now delegations have been sent back and forth to commemorate this feast and that of Ss Peter & Paul, the Latin Church's equivalent.  This time, Pope Francis himself will lead that delegation.

It is a beautiful counterpoint to the meeting of these two great figures in the Holy Land, marking the 50th anniversary of the first such encounter, between (Blessed) Pope Paul VI and Patriarch Athenagoras, with the follow-up presence of Bartholomew at the prayer-service for peace in the Vatican Gardens, attended by Presidents Peres and Abbas.

At the end of the Extraordinary Synod on the Family, Pope Francis held a consistory of cardinals in which he addressed the crisis of anti-Christian persecution in the Middle East.  It strikes me that with the warm friendship between Francis and Bartholomew, with the real possibility of openness in dialogue and even in theological reflection that ecumenical teams are producing, and with the overwhelming needs of Christians especially in Iraq and Syria, there is an opportunity truly golden to begin to achieve unity of the Churches of Greek and Oriental Orthodoxy with the Church of Rome--to stand together in the face of this persecution.  When we stand in solidarity with our brothers and sisters, guns pointed at our heads, sometimes what we thought were "life-or-death" issues turn out to be questions more of style than substance of the Faith. 

The Holy Father has been clear from the beginning that the universal catholic Faith is first and foremost about lived proclamation of the mercy of God in Jesus Christ.  We are not a monolith of uniformity but an organic body in communion.  There is scheduled for Pope Francis' visit the signing of a joint declaration--as God is a God of surprises, these great leaders of the Church are also leaders of surprises.  I wonder what might be included in this declaration?  We hope and pray and watch.  These are difficult times to be Christians, but they are also exciting times. 

ON GRADUALITY

The idea of "graduality" was raised in discussions during the Extraordinary Synod on the Family--it expressed the thought that we can lead people step by step to a full moral life, and in the meantime understand and accept that they are not "perfect" just yet.

The idea has been regarded by others in the Synod as a sellout of moral principles and an accommodation with relativism.

What can one say, pro or con, about this idea?  Let me offer the thoughts of CS Lewis on the topic.  In responding to the idea that divorce should be freely granted, he insists that promises made should be respected and kept:

To this someone may reply that he regarded the promise [of marital fidelity and permanence] made in church as a mere formality and never intended to keep it.  Whom, then, was he trying to deceive when he made it?  God?  That was really very unwise.  Himself?  That was not much wiser.  The bride, or bridegroom, or the 'in-laws'?  That was treacherous.  Most often, I think, the couple (or one of them) hoped to deceive the public.  They wanted the respectability that is attached to marriage without intending to pay the price: that is, they were imposters, they cheated.  If they are still contented cheats, I have nothing to say to them: who would urge the high and hard duty of chastity on the people who have not yet wished to be merely honest?

                                     --Mere Christianity, Book III, chapter 6

Are many of us not also in situations where we struggle to do better, yet have not attained "perfection"?  How should we be affirmed in the struggle while still having held out to us the goal of "more," of "better"?  Is all moral reflection intended to be 100% or 0%, with no other possibility?  These are the questions that graduality is attempting to think through.  It wants to reject moral relativism while also avoiding the attitude (condemned by Jesus--Matthew 23:4) of holding others to harsh standards with no concrete help to meet those standards.

                                                            

PRAY FOR THE PEACE OF JERUSALEM

I was asked to offer a prayer for peace.  Please forgive me if I preach and pray as a Christian, for that is what I am…

Our Sacred Scripture reveals to us: 

“God is Love” (I Jn 4:16)

“In this is love, not that we have loved God, but that God has loved us and sent his Son as expiation for our sins” (I Jn 4:10)

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (Jn 15:13)

“Who is my neighbor?  …  Who showed himself neighbor to the robbers’ victim?  The one who treated him with mercy.  Go and do likewise.” (Lk 10:29, 36-37)

“So I say to you:  love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father…” (Matt 5:44-45)

God and Father of the human family, you have made us in your image and likeness; you have blessed us with dignity as your adopted sons and daughters. 

Help us to recognize that dignity in those we love and those who do not love us.  Help us to embrace the path of peace, of reconciliation, of forgiveness, of mercy, of healing.

May bombs and mortars and rockets cease forever! 

In our lifetime, from Mohandas Gandhi to Martin Luther King to Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Nelson Mandela to Pope Francis, we have heard (and sadly ignored) the prophetic words that violence breeds only more violence; it never breeds the peace for which we long.

 Why must differences breed fear, which breeds bigotry, which breeds hatred and violence?  Why, O Lord, why?

Alle Menschen werden Bruder…  When, O Lord, when??

May we drop the weapons, drop the ego, drop the self-righteousness, drop the proper pride, drop everything we clutch so tightly that it keeps us from extending a hand of reconciliation to those we regard (and who regard us) as enemies.

God our heavenly Father, make us people of peace!  Make us people of love!  Make us people of healing and reconciliation!  Make us your true children!  Now, O Lord, now!!

 

GETTING NEARER AND NEARER

Once there was on The Mickey Mouse Club TV show a day called "Anything Can Happen Day."  We are living in such a "day" right now-- with Patriarch Bartholomew and Pope Francis together in the Holy Land, who knows how the Spirit might be poured out?  Who knows what the Spirit might (literally) inspire?
In celebration of this historic meeting between the successors of the brothers Peter and Andrew, and in the light of the Gospel promise (as read this weekend), I offer a musical tribute to our Eternal Advocates, to our temporal spiritual leaders, and to the Love that must bind us all together. 

THOUGHTS ON THE CANONIZATIONS

I have been hearing tremendous praises for the upcoming canonizations of Popes John XXIII and John Paul II.  But I have also been hearing reservations from some quarters on a couple of counts:  first, the waiving of a 2^nd miracle in the case of John XXIII; and second, remembering some dubious judgments on the part of John Paul II. 

For myself, I am not convinced that any kind of miraculous interventions should be the primary criterion for sainthood, though I fully understand the historical context that underlies it.  Who honestly thinks, for example, that we should have to wait for miracles for the formal canonization of Mother Teresa?  What I think far more important is an evaluation of the overall life of the person.  Was it marked by “heroic sanctity”?  Is it a life worth being held up as a model of holiness?  Here is the real acid test. 

Was John XXIII a wonderful man and truly “Good Pope John”?  I think so, without a doubt, including considering his record in rescuing Jews during World War II and his role, behind the scenes, in helping de-fuse the Cuban Missile Crisis.

When Pope John Paul II died in 2005, the crowds immediately started chanting Santo subito! [“Sainthood immediately” is one way to translate it].  He was recognized for his holiness of life, especially in the last years, with the sufferings he endured with the Parkinson’s, and for his evangelical desire to bring Jesus Christ to the world.  The joke was that the difference between Pope John Paul II and God is that God is everywhere; John Paul has been everywhere.

Yet there were flaws of judgment in Pope John Paul (I choose this phrase deliberately).  His staunch opposition to Marxism made him unfeeling toward the plight of the poor in Central America and the attempts by Catholic clergy to defend their rights and lives.  This was especially true in the way Archbishop Oscar Romero was treated—in a dismissive, almost unfeeling, way—by the Vatican.  Again, the pope’s support of Msgr Maciel Degollado as exemplary came back badly (though after John Paul’s death) when the truth about his scandalous lifestyle finally was made public.  It is hard to believe that the Holy Father was not at least told some of the truths about the founder of the Legionnaires of Christ; if so, clearly he chose not to believe them.  He saw the Legion (and Opus Dei) as the true spirit of the Jesuits, in whose loyalty he had lost confidence.

“Flaws of judgment,” I said.  It marks for me the distinction between holiness and perfection, between being devoted to and attached to God and being always correct.  The former is the criterion for sainthood, not the latter.  If you like, it is a parallel to the distinction between a pope’s formal ex cathedra infallible proclamations on the one hand and his personal theological perspectives on the other—these last being important but not definitive and final.  Outside of his exercise of the extraordinary infallible magisterium, a pope can indeed make a mistake.

Consider that only 2 other popes in the last 500 years have been canonized:  Pius V and Pius X.  Both were personally holy and both found themselves in the See of Peter in times of crisis:   finishing the Council of Trent and implementing its reforms for Pius V, and in the headlong series of political events that triggered World War I for Pius X.  Both also were capable of making what I would call errors of judgment.  For Pius V, expulsion of the Jews from most areas of the Papal States (and their being confined to ghettos in Ancona and Rome), and the excommunication of Elizabeth I of England, were at the very least ill-advised.  In the case of Pius X, in his desire to quash “Modernism,” he demanded, for example, the exclusion from teaching positions of anyone showing “a love of novelty in history, archeology, or biblical exegesis, and authorized “Vigilance Councils” for all dioceses to report on those suspected of the heresy.  This amounted to a sort of “secret police” structure.  [For a fuller discussion, see John W O’Malley, A History of the Popes]

Were they personally holy and saintly?  Did they also do great good for the Church?  Were they utterly convinced their actions were good and necessary?  Yes, to all three questions.  And so we honor them.  I’m not aware of too many parishes called “St Pius V,” but here in the Mobile Archdiocese we have St Pius X. 
 
Errors in judgment show the humanity of the Church—the “gory glory of the Body of Christ,” as one priest once expressed it.  Through it all, the love of God in Jesus Christ is reflected.  And so we celebrate saints:  men and women in love with God—even when they are not perfect as God is.

HAPPY EASTER--SORT OF

A series of curious events has triggered this post. 

I was given a year's subscription free to St Anthony Messenger for a book I'd purchased, and in a current issue there was a feature by a Franciscan writer I admire a great deal--Fr Murry Bodo.  We have in fact also had him as a speaker for Christus, some years ago.  He was writing about a young Franciscan in Assisi with a great voice who makes recordings and does concerts.  And so I bought the CD:  Friar Alessandro.
On it is a setting of Ave, Maria that I would dearly love to sing one day:  it is based on the "Intermezzo" of Pietro Mascagni's opera Cavalleria Rusticana (which I would freely translate as "Redneck Revenge," but that's another issue).

The story is set in Sicily on Easter Sunday, but it is a story of lust, seduction, adultery, hatred and murder.  Is there a greater complex of contradictions possible??

Still, in the course of the story there is the beautiful, heart-breaking "Intermezzo"--excuse me if I say that this is extraordinarily "sincere" music--as a prelude to the horrific end of this "verismo" opera.  And it is this music that Friar Alessandro sings so wonderfully.

I encourage you to get his CD.  It includes other features, in Latin, Italian, English, Spanish and French (a great mix), and among its selections is the more famous Schubert Ave, Maria, Panis Angelicus, and other wonderful pieces.

Below, please enjoy the instrumental interlude of Mascagni on its own terms, and (in spite of the operatic context)-- "Happy Easter to all!"  [PS--please skip the imbedded ad that I can't seem to delete...]


http://youtu.be/9MqTvfXIzug

PALM SUNDAY: CHRISTIANS & JEWS TOGETHER

To say that the relationship between Christians and Jews has been checkered is a colossal understatement.  But especially in Holy Week we need to examine our thought-patterns, our prejudices, and our desires to be faithful to Jesus Christ while rejecting all forms of bigotry (of which, sadly, our Faith has had a too-long history).
In the middle of the 16^th century Pope Paul IV ordered all Jews in Rome to be confined in a ghetto—they were free to move about during the day, but the ghetto was locked at night.  They were also forced on Sundays to attend Christian sermons.
Was this offensive?  Surely.  Was it well-intentioned?  Probably.  Was it “effective”?  Hardly.  Was it cruel?  Absolutely.  Then why was it done?
Catholics (and other Christians, by the way) regarded Jews not only as unbelievers but as obstinate in their rejection of Jesus as the Messiah.  Millennialists saw this rejection as a barrier to the breaking in of the new order (much, honestly, as Orthodox Jews see any “land for peace” arrangement in Israel as inhibiting the coming of the Messianic era—the Messiah can only come when the old kingdom is fully restored).  If Jews in sufficient quantities could be “converted” by means of obligatory preaching and perhaps even forced baptisms, so much the better—the Kingdom would thereby be advanced (and the Jews’ souls would be saved).
Meanwhile, Jews were seen as good enough to engage in professions that Christians saw as necessary for their economic well-being, yet sinful enough that they should never be part of, themselves:  money-lending (think Shylock in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, and re-read his speech in Act III, scene 1, lines 52ff.).
We have too easily grasped, as Christians, the theology (born of polemic bred in anger) from the Gospels of Matthew and John especially, that we and Jews should be antagonists; we have never bothered, until recently, to pay sufficient attention to the argumentation of St Paul (also a Jew and a Pharisee) in Romans 9-11, that God would never reject His Chosen People.  Punish them?  Yes; but never reject them.  And God will indeed also punish His new “Chosen People” (Christians/Catholics); but God will not reject those whom He loves—Christians or Jews.
Can we (Christians and Jews) be two branches on the same Vine in the vineyard of the LORD?  St Paul thought so; why should we think any less?  The cry, echoing after the Shoah of Nazi Germany, is “Never again!”  Should we not join our elder brothers and sisters in this cry?
When Christians confronted heretics called Cathars or Albigensians in southern France in the 12^th century, one horrible massacre was justified by the cry: “Kill them all!  God will recognize His own!”  It’s time to reverse this cry of hate and shout together:  “Save them all!  God will recognize His own!” 
Without Abraham, “our Father in Faith,” where would we be, spiritually?  That in itself should be more than enough reason (as soon-to-be St John Paul II thought) to respect and honor our elder brothers and sisters in covenant with the Lord.
Happy Holy Week to all; blessed Passover to all.  May your Kingdom come:  for all of us.

ITALY 2015

I've been approached recently by several people (parishioners) who have asked for details about the upcoming group I'll be taking to Italy in June of 2015.  Now that a huge spate of funerals is almost all over, and I can also get back to writing about the Roman Lenten Station Churches, I want to offer an outline of what we'll be doing (keeping in mind, of course, that some details can--and probably will--change, as exigencies of travel like hotel availability on certain dates may cause a re-configuring of the overall itinerary.

Quickly:  the trip is tentatively scheduled for a 14 June departure for Italy and return to the States on 26 June.  We typically arrange flights from Montgomery and Mobile, but we can modify connecting flights so folks can rendez-vous with us in Atlanta.

From a landing in Rome we'll head directly to Siena, and it'll include a passing visit at the wonderful Tuscan town of Cortona on the way to Assisi.  We're looking at a wine-tasting lunch in Spello, just outside Assisi.  From there we will make what I regard as the "cornerstone" of this pilgrimage:  a visit to Manoppello, where there is a miraculous cloth imprinted with the face of Jesus (and which matches in detail the face on the Shroud of Turin!).  You can read about this cloth in Paul Badde's book The Face of God.  We will also journey to Lanciano to see a Eucharistic miracle, and from there to the tomb of St Padre Pio in S Giovanni Rotondo.  On our way back to Rome we intend to celebrate Mass at Subiaco, St Benedict's first monastery and the home of the oldest known portrait of St Francis of Assisi.  In Rome itself, beyond Mass at St Peter's and opportunities to visit the Vatican Museums/Sistine Chapel, we will want to get tickets for the Galleria Borghese, my personal favorite of all Rome's art museums, and a day-trip to the famous fountains of the Villa d'Este in Tivoli, plus a walking tour of the old Jewish ghetto area. 
 
We have Mass every day in wonderful sites, including the tomb of St Francis in Assisi, and (hopefully) Chiesa Nuova, the home church of St Philip Neri, and perhaps also S Cecilia in the Trastevere district.

What is the cost, and what does it include?

Last time, the cost was right around $4,000/person based on double-occupancy.  There is a supplement for single-occupancy, and a break for triple-occupancy.  This time (as things go up), it'll surely be a couple of hundred dollars more, but it includes:

Airfare (we accommodate folks who wish to fly on their own)
Ground transportation
4-star hotels
2 meals every day
Admission fees to "built-in" visits all covered
Professional, licensed guides
Mass every day in wonderful churches
Me and my friends as tour leaders, who also hand-pick the restaurants!!

This is, as you can see from the dates, a 2-week visit.  We'll try not to cram too much in, to allow time for shopping, relaxation, and on-your-own visits to places you want to see (or see again).  But we won't leave you totally abandoned, either.

So if this interests you, make notes of the dates and let me know by e-mail if you'd like me to put you on the list of potentials--that way, you'll have updates as they come available (djtokarz@bellsouth.net).

Come join us!!

 

THURSDAY LENT WEEK 2: SANTA MARIA IN TRASTEVERE

I love this church (I know--I've already said that about a number of the station churches; true is true, though).  Santa Maria Maggiore is larger (that's why it's called "Maggiore/Larger"), but Santa Maria in Trastevere is older-- the first church in Rome dedicated to the Blessed Virgin. 

It is an ancient site, associated with healing oil flowing in the piazza (pretty much where the fountain now is).  The church itself is 3rd/4th century and perhaps the oldest property owned by the Church (rivaling the catacombs of San Callisto on the Via Appia).

12th century mosaics adorn this church, inside and outside:  the apse (here) and façade (below) show their majestic beauty to great advantage.

My own most special memory of this church was while attending a Mass marking the 10th anniversary of the assassination (= martyrdom) of Archbishop Oscar Romero.  The church was packed, and the preaching (in Spanish) was powerful, emotional, pointed:  yet it was a magnificent celebration of the theology of liberation, properly understood, and of trust in the power of the Risen Lord.  I will never forget that Eucharist.

WEDNESDAY LENT WEEK 2: SANTA CECILIA

St Cecilia is a beloved early martyr of the Roman church, named in the Roman Canon (aka, Eucharistic Prayer #1).  The church named for her is built on the remains of her house.

I often come to this church for its peace when in Rome (besides the fact that I love the Trastevere neighborhood, and that a near-by trattoria, Le Mani in Pasta, was the site of one of the most memorable "Iron Chef"-quality meals I've ever eaten).   The last time I was here, a nun (there is a convent attached to the complex) entered and began playing the organ--fitting for the saint dubbed the "patron of music."

Cecilia's body was discovered in the catacombs (her statue by Maderno is in front of the main altar);

in the attached convent (yes, extra charge; YES, go pay and see!) are the remains of a fresco by Pietro Cavallini of the Last Judgment, including a majestic image of Christ.  But go:  let your soul be awash in the peace of the knowledge that the Lord's martyrs are rejoicing at the heavenly wedding feast of the Lamb.

Right next door is a trattoria that claims to have the best cacio e pepe in Rome, but I know a place I think is even better (also in Trastevere)...

TUESDAY LENT WEEK 2: SANTA BALBINA

If you take a walk along the Circus Maximus from St Anastasia church, at the far end and to your left is the complex of San Gregorio Magno; to the right you'll see the huge complex of FAO, the United Nations Food and Agricultural Organization.  Behind FAO is Santa Balbina.  Full disclosure:  I've never been in this church.

But it was consecrated as a basilica by Pope Gregory the Great, and that is what little personal connection I have with it.  For the church named for him was built on his family's property, and at one point he had turned the estate into a monastic center where he and some companions lived (in one of the patterns of communal life that would coalesce into the Rule of St Benedict).  That was then; what about now?

Now this complex is the international motherhouse of the Missionaries of Charity, the order of Bl Mother Teresa of Calcutta.  Here the sisters run a soup kitchen/overnight shelter for men and women, and here I spent one night a week during one of my years in seminary, helping with serving, washing up, and one evening actually having to lead the Rosary in Italian (thank heavens for the Italian women there who didn't need my "help"!).  There was hard work involved because of the nature of the poverty the sisters had embraced.  In fact, their chapel and cells were in what was once a chicken coop, while the men and women had beds and dormitory style rooms on separate floors of the larger building.  Gregory had sent some of his companions as missionaries to the Angles and Saxons of Britain; now his family's property is the center for another group of missionaries.  When the sisters take their final vows, they must take them either here or in Calcutta. 
 
Tomorrow's post will have more proper "personal" reflection than today's!

OPEN DOOR POLICIES

Item from the Vatican Press Office:

 

In the late morning, the Holy Father Francis received in audience the Domus Sanctae Marthae the president of the Argentine Republic, Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner, accompanied by a large delegation.

The visit had the aim of presenting to the Holy Father the greetings, wishes and affection of the Argentine people to commemorate the anniversary of the first year of his pontificate.

The Pope awaited and received the president and the delegation at the door of the Domus Sanctae Marthae around 1.10 p.m. The meeting took place in the Hall on the ground floor, first with the entire delegation, then with the president alone. Then, at around 1.30 p.m., the Pope and the president lunched privately.

The Holy Father (when Archbishop of Buenos Aires) and the President of Argentina have not always seen eye-to-eye on issues.  Yet can one think of a more gracious reception than standing at the door to welcome the officials visitors? 
Last year we had a special clergy breakfast reception at 400 Government St for Rabbi James Rudin (who was speaking for the Christian-Jewish Dialogue), and there was Archbishop Rodi, standing at the main entrance to the residence on Franklin St, smiling and waving folks into the parlor.  The same sense of warmth and hospitality was shown by our Archbishop and the Holy Father.
These are small gestures, but they speak loudly (and without the need for the proverbial "big stick").  
Bl (soon-to-be St) Pope John XXIII was asked, while he was Apostolic Nuncio to France, what was the secret of diplomacy.  His response:  "A good table and a good cellar are great assets."  There's nothing like food & drink.  But beyond that, it acknowledges the role of hospitality as fundamental to human relationships:  hospitality unfeigned (Caritate non ficta, as Archbishop [Emeritus] Oscar H Lipscomb's motto put it) breaks down barriers far more effectively than dialogue alone.  After all, do we or do we not believe that we are all sons and daughters of God, and therefore brothers and sisters? 

MONDAY LENT WEEK 2: SAN CLEMENTE

What a wonderful church!  It's also tucked in behind the Colosseum (this time, heading toward St John Lateran), and it has an ancient pedigree:  3 levels of art, architecture, and archaeology are contained in this one building:  the joy, the interest and the adventure never cease.
But more personally, this church is dear to all Slavs (of which I, of course--1/2 Polish and 1/2 Slovak--am one) because its name comes from the martyred Bishop of Rome Clement (author of an important early Christian letter to the Corinthians:  dealing with the same issues St Paul dealt with, and with language very reminiscent of the Letter to the Hebrews). 
In the 9th century, Constantine (soon to be named Cyril) and his brother, Methodius, were challenged by German (Latin) missionaries in the territories of what is modern-day Czech Republic, Slovakia, Bulgaria and northern Yugoslavia--for they had the nerve (!) to translate the liturgy into the Slavonic language and even create an alphabet to translate the Bible.  When the conflict reached Rome, the two Greek brothers pleaded their cause to the Pope while bringing the supposed relics of St Clement (according to tradition, martyred in the area of the Crimea).  This won for them papal approval, and the relics were enshrined in what was believed to be the family estate of Clement himself.
In one of my more recent groups to Italy I had the great honor of celebrating Mass in this church.

SUNDAY 2 OF LENT: SANTA MARIA IN DOMNICA

This church is not exactly "on the beaten path," but it is worth exploring "the road not taken" to find it.  It is down the Via Claudia, along the back side of the Celian Hill, not all that far from Ss John & Paul (from Friday after Ash Wednesday).  The church's name comes from the Latin word Dominus.  In this case it means the chief of all diaconiae, or "social service centers" in Rome.  But the name of the street could confuse you:  this church is located on Via della Navicella...


The street's name is taken from the small fountain (boat-shaped) later added to the piazza at the front entrance to the church. 

But the church itself is 9th century, and it has the magnificent mosaic to prove it.  Here you can see the Blessed Mother with the Christ Child on her lap, surrounded by saints and angels, in all the glory of a Byzantine Empress.

For me, the biggest disappointment is how long it took me finally to visit this church (only 2-3 years ago); but if the wait was too long, the reward was wonderful for its restorative, peaceful spirit. 

SATURDAY LENT WEEK 1: ST PETER'S

There's not much need of an introduction to this church, is there?!

My first visit to St Peter's was back in the spring of 1973, while on a between-terms break during my time studying in England.  I was in what I might call my "semi-Protestant" phase, pretty well convinced of the evils of institution and the rightness of the Reformers.  So I was pretty well convinced that I would despise the building that was built at the cost of the Reformation.

In those days, the lira was still the Italian currency, and I was sharing a bedroom with 2 other guys in a pensione near the train station for £900 (the equivalent of $1.85/night, with fixed price suppers £600 or about $1.25--students know how to do cheap).  Once I dropped my backpack at the pensione, I walked toward St Peter's.  The closer I got, the more confused I was because I was loosing sight of the dome.  After coming out from a side street into Piazza Venezia and seeing the monument to Victor Emmanuel in all its glory, I kept walking and did what Bernini always wanted folks to do:  come through the back alleys of the Borgo area and break through his colonnade into the piazza--it was a bigger surprise than Piazza Venezia was.  And so I went in (no metal detectors and one-way entrances back then).

I was absolutely stunned when I entered:  the size was out-done, so to speak, by the perfection of the proportions:  everything seemed so wonderfully in balance.  So much seemed so miraculous there, especially Michelangelo's Pieta` (the first and most famous of the four he sculpted), and Bernini's monumental Altar of the Chair.  Mass was celebrated every day at 5:00 pm at this altar, and I found myself back there every day to participate--5 times in a week I headed back (always on foot) to this incredible basilica.

At the beginning of seminarian life in Rome, St Peter's the first place we come for Mass; at the end, it is the place where we are ordained transitional deacons.  When I take groups to Italy, we always have Mass here--sometimes in one of the crypt chapels, and more recently at the altar of Bl (soon-to-be St) John Paul II.