Fr Peter's newsletter notes - July 2007

13th Week of Ordinary Time - Sunday 1st July 2007

The private faith of the Christian always has a public face.

Last Thursday the Holy Father announced, whilst celebrating First Vespers at St Paul’s outside the walls in Rome, the inauguration of a Pauline Year from 2008-2009 to commemorate the two thousand year of his birth. It is a timely commemoration because St Paul has become one of the neglected writers of the New Testament. The immediate period after the Second Vatican Council saw a massive expansion in biblical studies that focused on the Gospels. Now forty years later the products of this reputed scholarship are gathering dust in libraries around the globe. Too much of this effort was built on flimsy premises as to the meaning of authenticity and simplicity of the original message. Essentially, in the opinion of these writers, the early Church had tried to catholicise the Gospels by adding elements about the foundation of the Church and detailed moral prescriptions, all alien to the simple message of Jesus. The methods used to distil the original content were the fashionable nostrums of the 1960s rather than the traditional interpretation of the Church. The recent publication of the Pope’s personal book on ‘Jesus of Nazareth’ has made much better known a steady alternative stream of scholarship that has taken the truth and the unity of the Gospels to be a fundamental premise for any interpretation of an individual passage. Unfortunately the work of most of these scholars is in French, Italian or German, and the fruit of their scholarship unavailable in English.

The proclamation of the Pauline Year is an attempt to achieve something of the same for St Paul, whose letters, though read every Sunday, remain opaque to the average Catholic. Their doctrinal content, with its complicated language about justification, grace and righteousness, makes for difficult reading. The heavy reliance by evangelicals on St Paul has given his writings an alien air, and has probably put off many Catholics from reading his letters. This is very unfortunate. St Paul is the first ‘theologian’ of the Church, and he addresses both theoretical issues, e.g. the place of the Jews in God’s plan, and other more practical matters, such as the correct way to celebrate the Eucharist, that stem from belief in Jesus as Lord. His training as a Pharisee certainly influenced his methods of writing and arguing, but his initial premise is quite simple. It was the voice calling, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me’ on the Damascus Road which set the context for all his theology. St Paul develops this divine identification between believer and Christ into an understanding of the gift of grace, the Church and the moral life. This identification was only made possible through a gratuitous donation of grace, which is the gift of faith. Everything follows from this starting point.

The Holy Father in his declaration about the year spoke about both St Paul’s missionary efforts, and his emphasis on the unity of the body of Christ. These two issues of mission in a pagan world, and the relationship between the Catholic Church and other Christian denominations are very apposite for the Europe of our day. I hope that here in St Mary Moorfields we will all be able to discover the riches of St Paul and bring him back to his rightful place within our catholic understanding.

14th Week of Ordinary Time - Sunday 8th July 2007

The rediscovery of a child-like sense of time is the key to helping understand eternity

The Orkney poet George Mackay Brown believed his childhood ended when a school friend told him that there were only three weeks left of the summer holidays. Up until that moment time had been like an eternal present, the slow days and regular rhythms of life on the island in the pre-Second World War years took away any anxiety about the future. The future was not an issue. At the age of eleven this was a rude awakening for a shy child, and perhaps his subsequent poetic and literary output was to rediscover this eternal present. This is all a long way from the world of the average contemporary eleven year old, numbers of whom now seem to possess every gadget for instant communication.

Much has been written in recent years about the exploitation of young children by the media and fashion industry, with their over sexualised lyrics and clothes of contemporary child fashion. This is all true but to which question is this really the answer? It is easy to fulminate on the issue and on many others, but there is something more profound here, and it is to do with a crisis in the adult world that finds its echo in such phenomena. The modern world has made it seem significantly easier to do so much more, and yet anyone who has to travel around London will know only too well that it is all an illusion. It is an illusion that one finds extremely difficult to shatter, becomes it springs from insecurity over the passing of time. There is so much to do and so little time. ‘The need for speed’ is the most memorable line from ‘Top Gun’ but it describes so much of the vacuity of secular culture. This ‘need for speed’ has become the need to grow up so quickly, to enter the adult world long before the child has reached any level of emotional maturity. The sad reality is that most children have learned of the need to rush through life from the example provided by the adult world surrounding them. When there seems no reason or need to stop why should a child not think likewise?

The regular rhythms of a gentler world might well be a thing of the past, and the childhood experiences of poets like George Mackay Brown have long disappeared. However, the regular rhythms of prayer that form the backdrop to monastic life did contribute to the greatest of all sustained human achievements, the flourishing of an intellectual culture for over one thousand years. The sustained commitment to receive faith in a child-like sense of trust, as commanded by Jesus Christ, does not lead to an abandonment of adulthood, but points more to a rediscovered sense of time. The truths of faith are then considered to be eternally present, truths of the love of the Father and the sacrifice of the Son out of love that animates the soul in the daily flux of life. The depths of these truths, and much else of life, can never be discovered through ever more frenetic activity, whether at work or during our free time. What remains of faith in such a culture is fundamentally superficial and it shies away from every issue of importance. As the poet wrote of his local cemetery, a place that fascinated him throughout his childhood,

‘A silent conquering army,
The island dead,
Column on column, each with a stone banner
Raised over his head

A labyrinth of celled
And waxen pain.
Yet I come to the honeycomb often, to sip the finished
Fragrance of men.’

15th Week of Ordinary Time - Sunday 15th July 2007

The Motu Propio of Pope Benedict XVI will depoliticise the debate over the Liturgy

Just this last week the City Planners along with central government passed the planning application for the so-called ‘walkie-talkie’, a twisted cartoon like structure that will disfigure the city skyline for the next fifty years. This is probably the architectural low point of recent years. The construction of this building will lead to another cluster of skyscrapers, adjacent to Fenchurch Street station, to add to the numerous others that are being constructed and planned at the moment. The city is going through one of its periodic building booms, and the buildings of the immediate post-war era are making way for a new generation. Those post-war buildings were probably eye-sores to the minds of those who remembered a pre-war London of Georgian and Victorian buildings, but today look part of a longer tradition of British building. A few years ago I remember a photograph in the Evening Standard of John Betjeman sitting on the platform of Broad Street station with the, then, newly built Drapers Gardens tower in the background. Both have now given way to new buildings, and very soon it will be impossible to remember the vista of many city streets at the time of the Millennium.

The shock of the new has always made the immediate past look so much better in comparison. Nowhere is this more true than in relation to the Mass. The liturgical changes implemented by the Second Vatican Council were imposed on a largely unsuspecting Mass attending Catholic population. The celebrant now facing the congregation, the change from Latin to English, the paring down of the Offertory and reduction in the number of prayers, gave the impression that so much of the mystery was being lost. Forty years later this sentiment can be confirmed as being largely true but, for accuracy, recognition must be made of what was gained. This was not very apparent at the time. The reorganisation of the readings at Mass has allowed a greater access to the Scriptures and the solemnity of the liturgical actions of the Roman Rite has become more obvious in the Mass established at the Second Vatican Council.

The Holy Father, in the explanatory letter to his recent Motu Proprio concerning the more widespread use of the Tridentine Rite, emphasised the misused ‘creativity’ which accompanied the introduction of the new form of Mass in the 1960s, and which obviously distressed countless Catholics at the time. These creative endeavours now look very dated, and out of place.

This is now the right time to allow for a more widespread use of the Tridentine Rite, and both that and the new rite are to be seen as two forms of the one Roman Rite. The Pope’s action has de-politicised the issue by allowing any priest to celebrate the Tridentine Mass in the parish depending on local circumstances. The permission of the bishop cannot be withheld, so the Tridentine rite can no more be used a rallying cry against the liberal establishment, nor against die hard liturgists who believe that the guitar, and high pitched ditties are the sole means to worship God. An outbreak of sanity over all these liturgical issues will be welcomed by many throughout the Church.

The Sacrament of Holy Orders (concluded) (CCC 1572-1600)

The heart of every ordination, whether to the episcopate, presbyterate or diaconate, is the laying on of hands by the Bishop and the consecratory prayer for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Each rite has additional parts that have varied over time but which express the multiple aspects of the grace given at ordination.

Jesus Christ called the apostles to share His authority, an authority which has been passed down through the Bishops. The Pope and the bishops, with the priests who share in their ministry, continue to make the twelve present in the Church. The choice of twelve men to be apostles is understood by the Church to be irrevocable, and not conditioned simply by the time and circumstances in which Jesus lived. Consequently this is the reason why the ordination of women is not possible within the Catholic Church, and that only baptised men may be ordained. The catechism continues that no-one has the right to be ordained. The perception of a call from God to serve needs to be submitted to the authority of the Church, and the charism of ordination may only be received as an unmerited grace.

The tradition of the Latin Church from the early Middle Ages has been to ordain celibate men only, except in the special cases of former Anglican clergymen in this country. The reason for the demand for celibacy is attached to the proclamation of the kingdom of God with an undivided heart, and is seen as a closer conformity to Christ, who remained unmarried throughout His life. The eastern Churches recognise the charism of celibacy and, though allowing married clergy, only ordain Bishops from the celibate clergy.

The effect of ordination is to configure the recipient to Jesus Christ. This sacrament, along with Baptism and Confirmation, may only be given once as it confers an indelible spiritual character to the person. This sacramental grace is the power of Christ and so achieves its ends despite the weakness of the ordained minister. The closer the conformity to Christ the more effective the grace given becomes.

The Sacrament of Marriage (Part 1) (CCC 1601-1608)

The Catechism begins the section on the sacrament of marriage with the statement that the natural bond of marriage has been raised to the level of a sacrament by Jesus Christ. For the Christian, marriage is both the most natural of all human ways of life and a union that is blessed and, through itself, becomes a way to follow Christ. The Bible virtually begins in the first chapter of Genesis with the explanation of marriage as the union between man and women, as decreed by God, and concludes with the marriage feast of the Lamb in the Book of Revelation. The conclusion to be drawn from the repeated mentions of marriage is that God is the author of marriage, and the community of life which marriage entails is written into His creation. Marriage has never been, in the eyes of the Church, a merely human construct and the vocation to marriage is a constant throughout every different society.

The positive vision of marriage is given first. The mutual love of husband and wife is an image of the love of God reveals in His creation. Jesus calls the people back to this original intention of God, despite the condescension shown by Moses to divorce owing to the hardness of heart caused by original sin.

However, the Church understands that marriage for both believer and unbeliever alike is lived under a regime of sin, both personal and structural. Hence relationships between husband and wife can be marred by discord, domination and jealousy. This breaks that original communion of the Garden of Eden. Mutual attraction now becomes domination and lust, while the vocation to multiply and subdue the earth has become the pain of childbirth and the toil of work.

Prior to explaining the formation of moral conscience on marriage as revealed in the Bible, the Catechism states that grace in required to live out the vocation of marriage in a fallen world. The sacrament of marriage provides for that grace but the Holy Spirit is already at work in the positive dynamics of every marriage so that the openness to each other transforms and overcomes self-absorption, and mutual aid becomes the reality of married life.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church: Jesus Christ, the only Son of God

The Sacrament of Marriage (Part 2) (CCC 1609-16)

The biblical understanding of marriage has evolved through the application of the Law and the inspired critique of the prophets. Moses allowed divorce owing to the hardness of heart, but the Law did protect, to a limited extent, wives from the arbitrary domination by their husbands. Subsequently the prophets developed their vision of marriage by comparing it with the exclusive fidelity of God to His chosen people. Jesus Christ brings this comparison to its fulfilment because He unites, through his humanity, all people to Himself and, through His presence at Cana, demonstrates that the goodness of marriage is also a sign of His presence.

The insistence on the indissolubility of marriage is not an impossible demand because Christ gives the necessary grace to restore marriage to its original place in creation. The couple participate in this grace when they ‘take up their cross’ in imitation of Christ. The grace is given but the struggle remains to create a harmonious union and so the relationship between spouse and Christ remains critical. The Catechism emphasises that where appropriate a marriage between two Catholics should take place during Mass, because the Eucharist is the expression of the new covenant between God and humanity, in which marriage participates. Unlike the other sacraments of the Church, no visible sign is used. Instead the spouses confer the sacrament on each other through their consent in front of a priest or deacon. The Holy Spirit is called down upon the couple through prayers and the Nuptial Blessing. The consent of each spouse is an act of will that has to be both free, and not be impeded by any natural or ecclesiastical law such as a previous union. It is the lack of consent, amongst other reasons, which makes a marriage invalid. If true consent was not given then this marriage may be declared null and void, in the sacramental sense, and this is called an annulment.