Fr Peter's newsletter notes - October 2006

Sunday 1st October

The angels form a spiritual tent above us and, as God’s messengers, reveal His nature

This time of year is the season of angels for the Church. Friday was the Feast of Archangels and Monday 2nd October is the Feast of Guardian Angels. Most of us probably relegate angels to Christmas; the angels of the Christmas story and the ever expandable cast of angels of the primary school nativity play. Yet angels are not simply the preserve of Christmas or mythology. They form the invisible spiritual panoply that cloaks all creation. I think it was Paul Simon who sang about ‘angels in the architecture’. Was he referring to the exuberance of baroque art and architecture, where angels witness the celebration of Mass and the major events of revelation as painted on numerous ceilings, such the triumph of the Cross and the Coronation of Our Lady in heaven? I am not sure but, for the Christian, they are an essential, but invisible, part of the created order. Angels guard the presence of God in his holy court; angels, like invisible hands, guard our daily lives, and are the messengers of God, assisting in bringing God’s progressive revelation forward.

The Church teaches that at the origin of time, a number of angels, Lucifer being the only named, rebelled against God. Their sin was failing to recognise their rightful place in the created order. They wanted to become like God and having no chance to change their rebellion is perpetual. This battle between the good and rebel angels forms the cosmic backdrop to the struggles that every believer encounters in his or her daily life. The angelic rebellion is mirrored in our own sins of pride which, in essence, is rejecting our created nature, and the authority of God. Every person has to learn to become good. It is not an activity that always comes naturally and, for those people who can be described as good, there has probably been a long private struggle in the background about which we often know very little.

The angels celebrated on Friday are the Archangels. These angels are God’s special messengers, who speak His mind and who each have a key role in advancing God’s revelation of Himself. The three archangels mentioned in the Scriptures, Michael, Raphael and Gabriel, each reveal an essential facet of who is God. The first, Michael, reveals God’s complete otherness. He guards the gates of paradise. Sin has no place in heaven, and so the ungodly must be kept out of God’s sight. It is not until the resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ that the gates of heaven will be opened again, and the just assume their place in the kingdom of God.

The second archangel, Raphael, as recorded in the Book of Tobit has a beneficial role in making possible the marriage of Tobias and Raguel, despite all human and spiritual adversities they encounter on the way. This archangel, I would like to think, guards the human measure, and the fuller image of God that should be found in marriage. Lastly, the archangel Gabriel brings the message of the good news to Zechariah about the birth of John the Baptist, and to the Virgin Mary who will give birth to the Saviour, Jesus. Gabriel shows the love of God for His creation, and His desire to communicate with us and save us through one like us. Jesus Christ is both the otherness of God, and the perfect human measure, made visible in the flesh, and so He is the consummation of all good angelic activity. Indeed he far surpasses them, as Jesus is raised to right-hand side of the Father.

Sunday 8th October

The example of marriage and the rejection of second best is the way for the Church.

The recent history of the family seems to be one of continued decline, with over a third of marriages now ending in separation or divorce, and with the incredible statistic that 40% of births are now outside wedlock. Virtually none of these births are to Muslim families, so one can only assume that this sad statistic comes out of the wreckage of a post- Christian society. One does not have to be a Christian to see that every child would benefit from a stable family, but we also know cases of children who have grown up in the most difficult of circumstances, managed to keep a grip on reality, and not succumb to the culture of blame. These facts make speaking about the family, both within society and even within the Church, such a sensitive issue. This is not about giving up on the ideal of marriage in front of the myriad lifestyles and fractured families that everyone comes across, or to which one might already belong. The Book of Genesis is quite clear that the union of husband and wife sits at the heart of creation. Two accounts are given, the first about God taking a rib from Adam to make him a worthy companion, and the second account giving a more philosophical understanding of marriage, ‘God made man in his own image, male and female. He made them. That is why a man must leave his house…’. This though is marriage within the Garden of Eden, so does the same situation hold after the Fall?

Jesus, in this Sunday’s Gospel both agrees and disagrees and, through this double answer, leads us to the heart of the issue. The hardness of heart that every sinner exhibits, to a lesser or greater extent, makes all commitments difficult to fulfil. This covers every aspect of life from minor errand to life-long marriage. Every study shows that marriage is good for society, as politicians ceaselessly point out to the electorate. Yet every politician needs the votes of saint and sinner alike. Both have equal weight. Hence the subject is hedged about with qualifications, and perhaps rightly so. Single mothers, for instance, must have at sometime known presently absent fathers. An absent father can never be a cultural norm because it runs contrary to natural law, the law of creation. It is much better evidence for the nature of sin that can lie at the heart of any society. However, it is patently unfair for society to blame the single mother, because often this criticism carries with it the implied judgement that this single mother should have had an abortion for stupidly getting pregnant.

The collapse in the number of couples seeking marriage rather than simply living together, and the increase of children born outside wedlock, are evidence of the acceptance of sin as the norm, and therefore acceptance of mediocrity as a goal in human life. It is all part of a spiritually risk-adverse culture which prefers to settle for the cultural norm rather than reach for the sky and seek sanctity. As the Church tells, though how many are listening remains questionable, this was never the intention of God. Jesus says to the Pharisees in this Sunday’s Gospel that the reason Moses allowed divorce was because ‘they were so un-teachable’. The same resistance to Christ’s teaching exists today, and unfortunately this is also true of some members of the Church today. This resistance entails the rejection of the power of grace to assist frail human nature to fulfil the commitment to marriage. Today the better approach must be to believe in the full possibilities of marriage. This is not about singling out happily married families, but of every baptise person remaining convinced that the openness to the commitment that marriage entails brings out the best in the human person. The depths of the spirit and of character are never going to be revealed though moral lassitude, however much it might be embraced by the governing classes keen on the votes of saint and sinner alike.

Sunday 15th October

The proposal offered to the rich young man by Jesus can become an example for every parent.

Every week seems to bring with it another horror statistic about our nation’s state schools. It must now be at least ten years since I last visited a primary school, but I do find it difficult to believe that education can be quiet as bad as it is portrayed in the press. However a recent survey caught my eye about how many children find it difficult to speak when they first start school. The Archbishop of Canterbury, remarked that the blame for such a state of affairs could not be laid at the foot of either the children or the teachers. Language is something learnt through extended conversation and not just through formal lessons. He went on to remark that two forces seem to be at work here, a government which demands that single parents go out to work, whether this is better for the child or not, and the insatiable desire for economic prosperity that mitigates against time spent with children. Yet only a month ago a report was published to promote the abolition of GCSE coursework because too much is being written by parents amongst others. It must be hard to know what to do a s a parent. The present lack of a commonly agreed norm for the right amount of time to attend to family life, the requisite material possessions for life, the appropriate amount of assistance for homework, makes for a lot of confusion. We are left to establish this measure for ourselves, and though this might superficially look like an exercise of freedom, it more often than not leads to sense of disorientation, and feelings of guilt and inadequacy. We do not know what is appropriate and in this fog of uncertainty, find it far too easy to confirm to the mores of the day, or to enter the jungle of parental competition.

There are a number of parallels to this situation with the young man in this Sunday’s Gospel. He initially asks Jesus about how to inherit eternal life. Jesus gives him the information, follow the ten commandments, but in moment, of what can only seem like overconfidence, the young man states that he already knows this and remarkably has kept them. He feels. despite all this. that something is lacking. Jesus in reply tells the young man that perfection entails going to sell everything and come follow me. The young man has reached the limit of his own achievement, and now has to let go for Christ to take charge. Like his modern counterpart, the young man in the Gospel needs more than the bare words of the commandments, just as the child needs more than an abundance of toys and a roof over his or her head. Both need accompaniment though life. Jesus offers it to the young man, as he does to us. Every believer needs both the moral law to guide his or her choices day by day, but also needs the friendship of God and companionship of other believers to complete the journey. This friendship does not to replace the personal need to make the correct choices. This method is not permission for an abnegation of responsibility. Jesus Christ, as our companion through life, mysteriously permits us to make the wrong decisions but always gives us both the grace to repent and the grace to make the right choice.

By analogy the same must be true for parents, who accompany their child through their life, but like Christ need to steer a midway course between a day to day abandonment and an over-protectiveness. Both are the result of the unfortunate combination of the economic situation today and the guilt caused by a lack of a commonly agreed moral code. It is all too easy to swing from one extreme to the other. The method of Christ as proposed to the rich young man and to the disciples is of a creative accompaniment that allows the disciple or child to make the right choices in the different situations they find themselves.

Sunday 22nd October

The transformation of chivalry by St Francis is an inspiration to take up the cause of Christ.

Last Tuesday I was very pleased to be able to attend the launch of a book entitled ‘Gospel Chivalry’ by Fr Mark Elvins, OFM Cap, or Mark of Whitstable, a name more in keeping with the Franciscan spirit of the occasion. The book charts how St Francis transformed the world of courtly chivalry into a chivalry for Christ. The knight was duty bound to look after the weak, especially in the art of war. Many of the codes of chivalry were meant to protect combatants and the innocent from the degradations of war. The knight in peaceful times would struggle to complete valiant tasks in pursuit of unrequited love. St Francis lived in this world of passing troubadours, pious legends and poems of courtly love. These were the mainstay of his imagination, but a local conflict between Perugia and Assisi, in which he was captured, made him see that courtly chivalry could not mask the reality of war.

During this time St Francis discerned, through a series of dreams and revelations, the possibility of turning all this upside down and, instead of aiming to become a knight to a servant, even as one as eminent as the captain of the Papal Army, he sought to become a knight to the master. Jesus was to be his true liege Lord. He saw that the care for the weak, and the commands of chivalry to feed the hungry or house the homeless, should not to be done as a member of the ‘majores’, but out of solidarity with the ‘minores’ themselves. Feudal society distinguished between the two orders, and accepted that chivalry was appropriate to the aristocracy, the ‘majores’ only. Instead, this order of friars ‘minores’ was to pursue and embrace ‘Lady Poverty’ with the same intensity as the knight pursued his love through trials and endurance. This recognisable transformation of chivalry was probably one of the reasons why most of St Francis’ first followers came from the local nobility.

Fr Elvins’ ends with the story of a remarkable Englishman, John Bradburne, a native of Cumberland, the ‘crazy poet’ and ‘upper class tramp’ who embodied the chivalric spirit of St Francis. His experience in Burma during the Second World War, of the simultaneous beauty of the place and people, as well as the tragedy of war, drew out of him an intense love of nature and compassion, so that he would spend his time tending the sick and dying. Many years later he decided to spend the last years of his life in Zimbabwe. Originally he lived as a hermit, praying to be surrounded by bees to guarantee his solitude, a request that was granted. For the last ten years prior to his martyrdom, he looked after a colony of abandoned lepers with great devotion and humour. He treated them with such respect that he caused resentment among various officials as he refused to cut their rations, or to tag them. He would do nothing to demean them and, with the general collapse of law and order during the civil war, was shot by his detractors. This Third Order Franciscan lived the chivalric ideal, of committing great acts of sacrifice out of love, to the God who shows us infinite love.

Traditional chivalry had been used to hide the carnage of mediaeval warfare, but in a great reversal, St Francis did not shrink from the external horror of the Cross and suffering in the world, ‘but let that outpouring of divine love direct his heart to an inner beauty of loving redemption’. The Gospel, as the author of the book says, ‘acknowledges the beauty of truth in the reality of poverty and sacrifice’ and, in the eyes of St Francis and his followers, ‘worldly romance’ becomes infused with spiritual meaning in order to attract what is worldly into ambience of redemption.

Sunday 29th October

The time to stand up for the truth is revealed in the small things of daily life

At the beginning of Evelyn Waugh’s ‘Sword of Honour’ trilogy there is a remarkable passage on this human necessity for saints. Guy Crouchback, the hero, was about to return to England in 1939 to enlist in the British Army, the horror of the modern age having become so clearly revealed in the alliance between Fascism and Communism. Prior to leaving his beloved villa, he visits the Parish Church to pray at the tomb of ‘il santo inglese’, a long forgotten English knight. Here the locals prayed and, despite the local clergy’s remonstrations, brought their troubles to the tomb of Sir Roger de Waybrook. This knight, a crusader, had been diverted by an Italian baron to attack a rival’s castle and had been killed in the process. The knight now lay far from home having never reached the tomb of Christ. Instead he had himself become a place of pilgrimage and prayer. There are countless saints like him ‘canonised’ by local cult and acclamation, centuries before the official processes of the Church had been established. Waugh’s target is not the dry process of canonisation but of the inability and refusal of the modern world both to recognise the possibility of sanctity in daily life and supernatural order that can be filled with so much unexpected virtue.

The saints are the countless multitude who reflect in their lives the hidden purposes of God. These purposes will always remain opaque to the non-believer because their lives are the embodiment of virtues rejected by the world. In many ways the saint is a character in a novel with God as the ultimate author. The cult of the saints has over time purified the script to reveal just the essentials of a life-long commitment to God. The genius of the Church was to associate one image with each particular saint. Hence St Roche has his faithful dog who sucked out the snake’s venom from his leg, St Lawrence carries his gridiron, St Apollionare her teeth on a plate. The saints also transcend the boundary between the visible and the invisible Church, and form the backdrop to the link between Christ and every believer.

Guy Crouchback, Waugh’s hero, could see in the ‘il santo inglese’ the qualities he would require to fight in the modern age. Today the battle comes in a different form and the saints we now admire display other characteristics. What has remained constant over time is the recognition of the human need for heroes which, through the Church, is transformed with grace into prayer to the saints. I always find it strangely moving, standing at the tomb of an unknown saint, in that here was someone who did believe, who did live the Gospel in grace and, more often that not, someone who died a lonely death for a truth not fully grasped and in a place probably a long way from home. The saint tells us that the pursuit of a ‘second best’ morality is never good enough, and to seek continually the courage necessary to stand up for the truth, even in the small things of daily life. The Church calls us all to sanctity, a difficult but not impossible task, since sanctity is not the celebration of our own efforts but the prior recognition of grace operating in our lives. More often than not this grace reveals itself in the most surprising situations and is transmitted by the most unlikely of people. The saints of the Church were not men or women who lacked imagination.

‘I believe in life everlasting’ (CCC 1015-1041)

The Catechism begins this section with the prayer for the dying which states that the believer is uniting his or her death with that of Jesus Christ, and so enters into everlasting life with Him. Death is the choice either for or against Christ and, as Jesus explains in the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, there is an immediate judgement after death, as to whether the soul is heaven bound or heading for damnation. The final judgement, and the resurrection of the dead, will come at the end of time, when our souls will be joined to our resurrected bodies, either ‘to share a communion of life and love with the Trinity, Mary and the Saints’, which is heaven; or to experience the complete absence of God which is Hell.

The concept of Hell as the absence of God probably means little to those who do not believe in God but, even so, Hell remains a real destination after death. This ties in with the Church’s teaching that to reject God in this life is indeed culpable since the existence of God is obvious from creation. God desires our love but will not force it, but love once given has to be reflected in real life. This love counts for little when the believer lives a life of sin, or when he or she has never attended to the needs of the poor. The Church puts the utmost importance on the moral decisions of this life. There is no second chance after death.

When Jesus told his disciples that ‘all sins can be forgiven, other than those against the Holy Spirit, either in this age or the age to come’, He alluded to the state of purgatory which is the place where the believer is progressively purified and ultimately to meet God face to face. Salvation is assured from the moment of death but the believer is not ready to receive the beatific vision, the full revelation of God. The Church has continually prayed for those who have died, especially during the Eucharistic Prayer, as the Church celebrates the death and resurrection of Jesus.

The celebration of the Christian Mystery (CCC 1066-1075) An introduction

The subject matter of the Catechism now passes from the Creed to the Liturgy. The doctrinal section followed an organised path which is described in the Church as ‘the economy of salvation’, or in other words the logical unfolding of God’s revelation. This reaches its climax in the Paschal Mystery, a term which describes the death, Resurrection, Ascension of Jesus and the descent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. This ‘Paschal Mystery’ is communicated to the believer not through abstract thought alone but through the liturgical actions of the Church. The outpouring of blood and water from the side of the crucified Christ is the beginning of the sacramental system and symbolic of the worship of the Church. Every liturgical action in the Church is a continuation and specific application of this mystery to the situation today, whether it is Mass or grace before meals.

The term ‘Liturgy’ literally means public work’, and ‘service in the name of the people’. The Church does this ‘public work’ in the name of Jesus Christ through sharing His priesthood. This priesthood of Christ is not inward but outward looking so involves a necessary evangelisation and commitment to charity. The Eucharist, is not the only liturgical action in the Church, but is described as the summit and source of the Christian life. It is the summit because the Eucharist builds on a prior evangelisation (including the essential teaching of why we do what we do) and conversion to a new way of life. The Eucharist is also the source because it is the specific application of Jesus’ saving death to the life of the community, Church and individual. This liturgical action animates every aspect of the Church’s life. As the summit and source of the Church’s public work, it is the privileged place for teaching the faith. The celebration of the sacraments makes present the doctrines and moral teachings of the Church. The visible signs of every sacrament, and thus the correct use of the liturgical rubrics should draw the believer into the mystery of Jesus Christ. This is the reason why freelance changes to the liturgical norms are deprecated by the Church, and are resented by laypeople who have the sense that Christ’s work is not being properly carried out.

‘The sacramental economy’ (CCC 1076-???)

The public life of the Church began on Pentecost with the descent of the Holy Spirit on to the apostles. From that moment Jesus Christ communicates his salvation, which is the fruit of His death and Resurrection through the Liturgy of the Church. The structure of this new way of imparting sacramental grace is described as the ‘sacramental economy’.

There is a two way movement of blessing in the Christian liturgical act. God blesses the believer through Christ, the tangible expression of His love, and the believer offers blessing to the Father through Jesus Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. This two way dialogue of blessing and response may be seen in the Old Testament where God continually blesses His chosen people in particular ways such as the Passover/Exodus, the election of David, etc. These and other blessings were recalled in their liturgy through sacrifice and adoration to God as their source.

The Christian dispensation follows a similar line, but Jesus Christ has a pivotal role of being both the visible blessing of God and the perfect human response to that unique blessing. Jesus Christ is therefore at the heart of every liturgical action within the Church. He has sent His Holy Spirit into His Body and now Christ acts through the sacraments. The sacraments are points of blessing for the faithful, and communicate the ‘Paschal Mystery’ (a theological term used to express what Jesus achieved through His death and resurrection). This mystery was an historical event that does not remain in the past, but occupies all times because it is an action of God, and so is communicable today within the Church.

The preaching of the Apostles continues that of Christ and in their turn passed this on to their successors. This continuity within the Church gives structure to the liturgical life. Christ is always present to accomplish this sacramental presentation of God’s blessing and of the believers’ response to that blessing. Christ works through the priest, the minister and where ‘two or three are gathered together’.

The Role of the Holy Spirit in the Liturgy (CCC 1091-1112)

The Catechism moves from the role of Jesus Christ in the Liturgy to that of the Holy Spirit. These roles are distinguished for the sake of clarity of explanation but in reality God’s action always remains one, and the participant in the Church’s Liturgy is drawn up into the life of the Trinity. The Holy Spirit’s role is divided by the Catechism into three parts, the preparation of the faithful to receive Christ, to act as the Church’s living memory, and to effect a living bond with God.

The presence of the Spirit in the liturgical practices of the Jews was a preparation to receive Christ in today’s liturgy. This is why the Church reads the Old Testament, and uses the psalms for her prayer, and why the Our Father and the Eucharistic prayer follow Jewish prototypes. The readings for the Easter Vigil, which celebrates the resurrection of Christ, embrace the major events in the life of the Jewish people. The Holy Spirit also prepares each believer individually through a conversion of heart to listen to the Word of God and to receive the graces derived from every liturgical celebration. This leads to the second aspect of the Holy Spirit’s work in the Liturgy, that of being the ‘living memory’ of the Church. Every liturgical action of the Church is a memorial of what Jesus achieved through His life, death and resurrection. The Holy Spirit illuminates the minds and hearts of believers to understand the fuller meaning of these events. This in turn elicits from the believer a response in faith of thanksgiving for the work of Christ and a re-commitment to live as Christ.

Lastly, the Holy Spirit makes the Paschal Mystery (death and resurrection of Jesus) present in the Liturgy. The calling down of the Holy Spirit (called the epiclesis) makes every sacrament a celebration of that one unique event. The sacraments can be repeated but the original event remains forever unique. The graces flowing from the death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ are applied to the individual and community. The Mass celebrated for a particular community is thus linked through the Holy Spirit to the one sacrifice on the Cross.

‘The Paschal Mystery in the Church’s sacraments’ (CCC 1113-1134)

The Catechism began its section on the Liturgy by defining it, the celebration of the sacraments, as the work of God. This was explained in terms of the work of Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit. Before the content of each sacrament is outlined in turn, the Catechism sets out to explain the doctrinal elements common to all.

The seven sacraments are all the work of the Church, which is itself the sacrament of Christ, making visible His presence through the action of the Holy Spirit. These seven sacraments are works of the Church, as every believer recognises each Sunday. The sacraments also constitute her nature, and the Church becomes the place to meet God. This ability to meet Christ is possible because every Christian shares in Christ’s priesthood. The ordained priesthood also continues the work of the apostles who were handed by Christ the mandate to preach and celebrate the sacraments to all the nations.

The celebration of the sacraments involves by necessity the duty to evangelise, because the sacraments need faith for their reception. The Word of God must be preached, especially that of the death and resurrection of Jesus to the believer, and accepted by him or her in faith. The new Christian is welcomed into an already believing Church, which possesses in itself perfect faith as it is the mystical body of Christ, and so of necessity must accept her liturgical practices. The Church has always maintained that the ‘law of prayer is the law of belief’. The concomitant responsibility also lies with the clergy not to change the way the sacraments are celebrated because this would be tantamount to tampering with the beliefs of the Church.

Each sacrament is ultimately the work of God acting through a minister, normally the priest. The validity of the sacrament is not dependent on the moral qualities of the priest but, just as the disposition of the recipient determines their receptivity of grace, so the minister has a duty to celebrate the sacraments with dignity and integrity.