01 August 2011
Today I pick up the pastoral mantle used to lead God's people at my local parish. Yes we will say the daily offices of Morning and Evening Prayer each weekday, including very often the Te Deum Laudamus. We use the Monk/Croft arrangement.
13 June 2011
17 May 2011
The Australian writes:
Twelve Christians were murdered in Egypt. Two hundred and thirty-two people wounded. The death toll will surely rise as victims succumb to their injuries. And that’s just in the past few days. In the same time period, more Christians were killed in Egypt at the hands of Muslims than people killed in Syria or in Libya as a result of protests, riots and resistance.
Two churches in Cairo were burned in recent days. Over the past few months church property has being gutted, vandalised and violated with graffiti. Churches have been blown up.
An entire community – the Christian community in the new Egypt – is under attack. And the world remains relatively silent. There has been no significant religious outcry, political redress or diplomatic pressure to stop the attacks. There has been almost no media coverage as Egypt’s Muslims systematically, over the past few months, set about massacring Egypt’s Christians.
Read the full article here.
06 May 2011
Augustine has an all-embracing understanding of justification, which includes both the event of justification (brought about by operative grace) and the process of justification (brought about by cooperative grace). Augustine himself does not, in fact, see any need to distinguish between these two aspects of justification; the distinction dates from the sixteenth century.
farther down pg.31
Man's righteousness, effected in justification, is regarded by Augustine as inherent rather than imputed, to use the vocabulary of the sixteenth century. A concept of ‘imputed righteousness’, in the later Protestant sense of the term, is quite redundant within Augustine’s doctrine of justification, in that humans are made righteous in justification. The righteousness which man thus receives, although originating from God, is nevertheless located within man, and can be said to be his, part of hsi being and intrinsic to his person. An element which underlies this understanding of the nature of justifying righteousness is the Greek concept of deification, which makes its appearance in the later Augustinian soteriology. By charity, the Trinity itself comes to inhabit the soul of the justified sinner, although it is not clear whether Augustine can be said to envisage a ‘state of grace’ in the strict sense of the term – that is, a habit of grace, created within the human soul. It is certainly true that Augustine speaks of the real interior renewal of the sinner by the action of the Holy Spirit, which he later expressed in terms of participation in the divine substance itself. However, it seems most prudent to state that Augustine’s theological vocabulary was not sufficiently developed to allow us to speak of his teaching ‘created grace’ in the later sense of the term.
later on p. 32
For Augustine, justification includes both the beginnings of man’s righteousness before God and its subsequent perfection, the event and the process, so that what later became the Reformation concept of ‘sanctification’ is effectively subsumed under the aegis of justification. Although Augustine is occasionally represented, on the basis of isolated passages, as understanding justification to comprise merely the remission of sins, it is clear that he also understands it to include the ethical and spiritual renewal of the sinner through the internal operation of the Holy Spirit. Justification, according to Augustine, is fundamentally concerned with ‘being made righteous’.
I Corinthios 13:1-3
si linguis hominum loquar et angelorum caritatem autem non habeam factus sum velut aes sonans aut cymbalum tinniens
et si habuero prophetiam et noverim mysteria omnia et omnem scientiam et habuero omnem fidem ita ut montes transferam caritatem autem non habuero nihil sum
et si distribuero in cibos pauperum omnes facultates meas et si tradidero corpus meum ut ardeam caritatem autem non habuero nihil mihi prodest
nos enim spiritu ex fide spem iustitiae expectamus
nam in Christo Iesu neque circumcisio aliquid valet neque praeputium sed fides quae per caritatem operatur
14 April 2011
Therefore I exhort you, my friends, to leave for
a season the painful and anxious remembrance of
your ways, to strike away into the softer paths of
memory, and dwell on the loving-kindness of God,
that you who are confounded in yourselves may re-
cover by gazing on him. I wish you to experience that
which the holy prophet advised, saying, ' Delight thou
in the Lord, and he shall give thee thy heart's desire.'
Now grief over sin is necessary, if it be not constant ;
it must be broken by the more joyful remembrance
of the divine goodness, lest the heart grow hardened
through sadness, and from despair perish more ex-
ceedingly. Let us mix honey with our wormwood,
in order that the wholesome bitter, tempered by the
added sweetness, may be swallowed, and give us
health. Listen how God softens the bitterness of a
contrite heart, how he recalls the faint-hearted from
the pit of despair, how through the honey of pleasant n the
and faithful promises he consoles the sorrowful and
establishes the weak. He says by the prophet, I will
bridle thy mouth with my praises, lest thou perish.
This means, lest by the sight of thy wickedness
thou be too much cast down, and even like an
unbridled horse thou rush headlong and perish
desperately. With the bridle, he says, of my in-
dulgence will I restrain thee, and will raise thee up
with my praises ; thou who art confounded with
thine own evil shalt breathe again in my good, and
shalt surely find my mercy is greater than thy sin.
If Cain had been so restrained, he would never
have said in despair, ' My sin is too great for me
to be forgiven.' l God forbid, God forbid ! for
his loving-kindness is greater than any iniquity.
Wherefore the just man, not throughout, but only in
the beginning of his discourse is a self-accuser, while
he is wont to close with the praises of God. See, thus
doeth the righteous man ( I thought/ he says, ( on
my ways, and I turned my feet to thy testimonies.'
That is, having found sorrow and misery in his own
ways, he took delight in the way of God's testi-
monies, as in all manner of riches. Follow ye the
example of the just ; if ye think of yourselves in
humility, think also of the Lord in his mercy and
goodness. Now this becomes easy to the mind, if
we preserve a frequent, nay, a constant, recollection
of the Divine kindness. Otherwise, how shall we
obey the saying of the apostle, " In everything
give thanks," if those things for which thanks are
due, vanish from the mind ? I would not have you
deserve the reproach earned by the Jews, of whom
the ifc is declared that they forgat his works, and the
canticles. wonders that he had showed them.
" But seeing that the good which the kind and
merciful Lord ceases not to shower on mortals
cannot all be remembered by man for who can
utter the mighty acts of the Lord ? who can show
forth all his praise ? let that which is chief and
greatest the work, namely, of our redemption never
fade from the memory of the redeemed. In this
work there are two points which in a special manner
I will offer to your attention, and this as briefly
as may be, being mindful of that saying, ' Give
instruction to a wise man, and he will be yet wiser.'
These two things, then, are the manner, and the
fruit, or result of our redemption. Now the manner
is the emptying out or humbling of God ; the fruit
thereof is our being filled with him. To dwell on the
last is a seed-plot of holy hope ; to think of the
former an incentive to the highest love. Both are
necessary to our progress, that hope without love
should not grow sordid, nor love wax cold hoping for
"But indeed we expect such a return for our love as
He whom we love has promised us. ' Good measure,
pressed down, and shaken together, and running over,
shall men give into your bosom.' That measure I
hear will be without measure. But I would fain know
of what is that measure to consist, or rather that
immensity which is promised in return. Eye hath
not seen, God, besides Thee, the things that thou
hast prepared for them that love Thee. Tell us, then,
Thou who preparest, what thou preparest. We believe,
we trust it will be such as Thou dost promise. * We
shall be filled with the good things of thy house.'
But which good things, and of what kind ? Is it with the
corn, wine, and oil, with gold and silver, or precious Canticles -
stones? But these we see and know, we see and
despise them. That we seek which eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart
of man to conceive. This pleases, this is sweet, this
delights us to inquire concerning it, whatever it may
be. And they all shall be taught of God ; and he will
be all in all. As I understand, the fulness which we
expect from God, will not be except of God.
" But who can grasp the magnitude of delight
comprehended in that short word ? God will be all
in all. Not to speak of the body, I perceive three
things in the soul reason, will, memory ; and these
three make up the soul. How much each of these in
this present world lacks of completion and perfect-
ness, is felt by every one who walketh in the Spirit.
Wherefore is this, except because God is not yet all
in all ? Therefore it is that our reason falters in
judgment, that our will is feeble and distracted,
that our memory confounds us by its forgetfulness.
We are subjected unwillingly to this threefold weak-
ness, but hope abides. For He who fills with good
things the desires of the soul, He himself, will be to
the reason the fulness of light; to the will the
abundance of peace ; to the memory, the unbroken
smoothness of eternity. truth! charity!
eternity! blessed and blessing Trinity! to thee my
miserable trinity miserably groans, while it is in exile
from thee. Departing from thee in what errors,
griefs, and fears is it involved ! Alas, for what a
trinity have we exchanged thee away. My heart is
disturbed, and hence my grief ; my strength has
forsaken me, and hence my fear;
'But why art thou cast down, my soul ! and
why art thou disquieted within me ? Hope thou in
God, for I shall yet praise him/ that is, when error
shall have left my mind, sorrow my will, fears my
memory ; and serenity, sweetness, and eternal peace
shall have come in their stead. The first of these
things will be done by the God of truth ; the second
by the God of charity ; the third by the God of
omnipotence, that God may be all in all : the reason
receiving light inextinguishable, the will peace im-
perturbable, the memory cleaving to a fountain which
shall never fail. You may judge for yourselves
whether you would rightly assign the first to the Son,
the second to the Holy Ghost, and the last to the
Father ; in such a manner, however, that you take
away nothing of any of them, either from the Father,
or the Son, or the Holy Ghost.
" As regards the manner of our redemption, which,
if you remember, we defined as the emptying out
or humbling of God, there are three points I com-
mend to your notice. It was not a simple or
moderate humbling, but he humbled himself even
to taking flesh, even to death to death on the
cross. Who can measure the humility, gentleness,
and condescension which moved the Lord of Majesty
to put on flesh, to be punished with death, to be
disgraced by the cross ? But some one may say,
could not the Creator repair his work without that
difficulty ? He could; but he chose to do it with his
own injury, rather than that the foulest and most
odious vice of ingratitude should again find its place
in man. He took upon him much fatigue, that he Son the
might hold man his debtor to much love, and that Canticles -
the difficulty of redemption might remind man of
thanksgiving, whom an easier condition had made
less devout. For what was created and ungrateful
man wont to say? 'I was made indeed free of
charge, but with no labour or effort to my Maker.'
He spake the word and I was made, as all things
were/ Nothing is great, if it only costs a word.
Thus human wickedness, attenuating the benefit of
creation, found food for ingratitude where it ought
to have discovered a source of love, and that to make
an excuse for sin. But the mouth of the evil speaker
is stopped. It is clearer than daylight now, man,
what an outlay He has made for you. From the
Lord He became a servant ; from rich He became
poor ; from the word, flesh ; from the Son of God,
the Son of man. Remember now, that though you
were made from nothing, you were not redeemed for
nothing. In six days He made all things, and you
among them; but for thirty whole years He wrought
at your salvation in the midst of the earth. What
did He not endure in His labours? Necessities of the
flesh, temptations of the enemy, did He not gather
and heap all these on Himself by the ignominy of
the cross, by the horror of His death ? Not without
necessity indeed. Thus, thus, Thou, Lord, shalt
save both man and beast. ' How excellent is thy
mercy, God.' Meditate on these things, dwell
upon them. Draw refreshment from these spices
for your inward parts, long tormented by the reek
of your sins, that you may abound also in these
ointments, not less sweet than salutary. Still, do not
suppose that you yet possess those best of all which
S-mon'on the are praised in the breasts of the Spouse. These
canticles. cannot be spoken of now, the sermon must be
finished. What has been said concerning the other
ointments, keep in your memory, try in your life ;
and concerning these which are to follow, help me with
your prayers, that it be given to me to speak some-
thing which shall be worthy of these delights of the
Spouse, and able to build up your souls to a love of
the Bridegroom, our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen
13 April 2011
Well, I wanted to post the most impressive thing I encountered from the material. We dabbled in Dietrich Bonhoeffer's The Cost of Discipleship. On page 44 he begins,
Cheap grace is...
- the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance
- baptism without church discipline
- communion without confession
- absolution without personal confession
- grace without discipleship
- grace without the cross
- grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate
- the treasure hidden in the field
- the pearl of great price
- the kingly rule of Christ
- the call of Jesus Christ
- the sanctuary of God
12 April 2011
21 March 2011
I remember the opening class. I was dressed in my clergy shirt. One of the videos highlighted grown men that had been abused by Catholic Priests while very young men. I really wanted to rip that collar off of my neck! The video covered various types of trauma, but every time one of these clergy abuse victims came onto the screen I just wanted to slink away. In case you don't know, that collar is all too uncommon at this protestant evangelical school. In case you also don't know, clergy abuse victims cannot bring themselves to come forward for a very long time--but when they do so it must be validated. They must be afforded the healing they deserve. Clergy abuse victims know that most people won't believe them--even worse, Church folk will blame them for it or silence them for lying about their beloved 'leader'. Talk about kicking someone while they are down, aka re-victimizing the victim.
I knew then what I'd spend time reading. Rocco Palmo has been covering the abuse from within the Catholic fold for years. Recently the terror was announced to his own Archdiocese, Philadelphia. Some of his latest posts have evidenced his pain. His Church has brought shame. Archbishop of New York, Timothy Dolan, recently pronounced, "This is nauseating...hideous...must continue to haunt us".
Yep, yep, and yep.
At Rocco's blog, Whispers in the Loggia, I have found the Grand Jury reports. They are graphic, hideous, nauseating, and will continue to haunt me. Do not follow his links if you are not fully prepared for super-graphic language.
If anything ever happens to you while under the care of a Church leader...Report it, re-report it, call the police, call 911.
Bring the cowards to justice.
The Church does not want to be led by duplicitous, scandalous, heinous, sacrilegious ... FOOLS!
I hate to report it, but the new norms of the Catholic Church will be used to bring many Priests under scrutiny unfairly. This good tool will fall into the hands of those who do not have a genuine complaint--they are not victims, but anti-religious predators.
In short, this is a huge mess.
Possibly it is the fulfillment of the diabolical vision of Pope Leo XIII a century ago.
I have also taken to reading a couple of other sites that report on clergy abuse. Here is one that came to my feeder today. I wish this were not so prevalent. Abuse is not limited to the Catholic clergy. Some feel that clerical celibacy is the heart and source of their predation. Not so...not at all. Married men in ministry are just as likely to abuse as celibate clergy.
Since I met you, I have admired you for your courage, intellect, risk-taking and compassion. What you have done in the past few years to openly confront the sexual abuse that you and others have suffered is so powerful! I am so proud of what you have done for yourself and many other victims of clergy abuse.
I will always remember the bravado in your voice (probably due to our over-consumption of homemade Kahlua) and the pain on your face the night we sat on the floor of your Bruce Hall dorm room and you first told me about what you then referred to as ‘your affair.’ I know I was a naïve little twit and my jaw fell open, but I was still so shocked and sickened that you blamed yourself and not the married minister and that there was no one who could/would counsel or support you. I ached for you as you described how you felt you were unworthy of love and respect and were so distressed that you had lost your connection to God. Despite all of your academic achievements and global travels, you buried your victimization so deep, but I always felt this abuse was the reason for your despondent and sometimes suicidal phone calls. For years I was haunted by the loneliness that was revealed in those phone calls and prayed that you would never give up hope. That you have taken the damage that has been done to you to help others heal is so inspiring.”
I sat and wept after reading Trish’s email.
I remember that girl – the girl Trish is talking about – the girl who, for years, couldn’t find any meaning for much of anything.
I remember that girl -- the girl whose whole sense of self disintegrated after she was molested, sexually abused and raped by a Southern Baptist minister when she was a 16-year-old church kid. I’m grateful that Trish remembers her, too.
In truth, I have no memory of sitting on the floor in Bruce Hall and telling Trish about “my affair.” But I expect Trish’s memory is more accurate than mine. I was probably totally sloshed.
What I do remember is that, several years after college, Trish had the misfortune of calling me on the phone one night when I had the pills on the counter and was already half-drunk and was trying to get up my gumption to down them. Trish figured out what was going on and she stayed on the phone with me for hours. No telling how things would have turned out if she hadn’t.
I remember only that one suicidal phone call, but again, I don’t doubt that Trish’s memory may be better on this than mine. There were probably other calls.
And then there was the night I finally went through with it . . . and woke up in my own vomit.
I remember that young woman – a young woman whose life should have been full of promise but instead seemed so void of meaning that she saw no reason to continue it.
I remember that young woman – a young woman whose emotions were so deadened that the only thing she felt was disgust at the smell of vomit and anger at her own ineptness.
That’s what clergy sex abuse does to many of its victims.
For people who are raised with faith, faith and meaning become intertwined. The two are often so fused that, when faith gets twisted into a weapon, meaning itself is destroyed.
I was lucky to have a friend like Trish. Many other abuse survivors are not so fortunate.
My youth minister abused me. My music minister silenced me. My childhood church abandoned me. My faith betrayed me.
But my friend Trish was true.
I am profoundly grateful.
18 March 2011
Bolds and comments are mine.
Episcopal cleric tries Islamic rituals for Lent
BY CYNTHIA BILLHARTZ GREGORIAN firstname.lastname@example.org > 314-340-8114 | Posted: Saturday, March 12, 2011 12:05 am
(NOTE: A correction on dietary restrictions was made in the sixth paragraph)
The Rev. Steve Lawler should have just given up chocolate or television for Lent.
Instead, Lawler, of St. Stephen's Episcopal Church in Ferguson, decided to adopt the rituals of Islam for 40 days to gain a deeper understanding of the faith [in distinction to The Faith of Jesus Christ].
On Friday, he faced being defrocked if he continued in those endeavors.
"He can't be both a Christian and a Muslim," said Bishop George Wayne Smith of the Episcopal Diocese of Missouri. [Wait a minute, some gal already pulled that off in Seattle!] "If he chooses to practice as Muslim, then he would, by default, give up his Christian identity and priesthood in the church."
Only in the Episcopal Church, folks! Unless you are in the ELCA, PCUSA, or UMC.
17 March 2011
Here is a snip...
- Fred: OK. So you're a pacifist. What would you do if someone were, say, attacking your grandmother?
Joan: Attacking my poor old grandmother?
Fred: Yeah, you're in a room with your grandmother and there's a guy about to attack her and you're standing there. What would you do?
Joan: I'd yell, "Three cheers for Grandma!" and leave the room."
Fred: No, seriously. Say he had a gun and he was about to shoot her. Would you shoot him first?Fred: Come on, OK, look. We'll take another example. Say, you're driving a truck. You're on a narrow road with a sheer cliff on your side. There's a little girl sitting in the middle of the road. You're going too fast to stop. What would you do?
Joan: Do I have a gun?
Joan: No. I'm a pacifist, I don't have a gun.
Fred: Well, I say you do.
Joan: All right. Am I a good shot?
Joan: I'd shoot the gun out of his hand.
Fred: No, then you're not a good shot.
Joan: I'd be afraid to shoot. Might kill Grandma.
Joan: I don't know. What would you do?
Read all the rest before continuing here.
I have a question for Joan. What would you* do if it was culturally acceptable to murder babies before they were born?
Would you* march against it?
Would you* picket against it?
Would you* stage a sit-in?
Would you* boycott?
Would you* lobby?
Is abortion within your* definition of violence?
If not, then you are flippant with life and resting upon the 'luck' of being one of those who were born.
Because, as far as I can tell, ABORTION is as much as a reality as WAR. Both are senseless, shameful, VIOLENT, and fueled by selfishness I cannot begin to describe.
Now let's move on the the elderly.
hypotheticals and considering real-life evils]
What would you* do if they were forgotten by their self-indulgence offspring to rot in sub-standard "homes"?
Do you* care that life at its beginning and end are being reduced to decisions of convenience while people try to save the rest of the world from violence, oppression, and hate-crimes?
I am afraid this attitude makes us miss our intended goals to help people and work for the GREATER GOOD. If I were left with only this mantra my best efforts to reach out will have missed a hundred people before my elbows straightened. Ideologue. Blind. Moat-in-eye.
God forgive us both and save us both from blindness.
*Ultimately it matters less what we believe individually...but what does the Church teach...and do...and what are examples of it?
Education, homeless shelters, orphanages, hospitals, reformatories [prisons], soup kitchens, pro-life advocacy, adoption, ad infinitum.
Biretta tip to Silouan.
16 March 2011
Bold and comments are mine.
Archbishop wrestles with doubts on school paddling
By Bruce Nolan
NEW ORLEANS (RNS) As a high-school student in the mid-1960s, Greg Aymond occasionally saw an angry teacher cuff a student. It never happened to him, nor does the memory of faculty discipline in those days particularly trouble the man who later became the archbishop of New Orleans.
But now, as Archbishop Gregory Aymond confronts formal physical punishment at one of the city’s top Catholic high schools jewels, he is clear:
“I do not believe the teachings of the Catholic Church as we interpret them in 2011 condone corporal punishment.
“It’s hard for me to imagine in any way, shape or form, Jesus using a paddle,” he said. [perhaps a whip on one occasion]
Moreover, Aymond said, the social research “is very, very clear: Violence fosters violence.” [research is also clear that DISCIPLINE fosters DISCIPLINE. which is just what folk forget about in our times.]
The 61-year-old archbishop’s concerns about corporal punishment at St. Augustine High School received a public airing late last month (Feb.) in an extraordinary meeting with the school’s parents and alumni.
The alumni urged the school to drop its temporary ban on paddling—a ban put in place, Aymond disclosed, as a result of concerns he quietly raised months ago. [parents requested the ban be dropped...notice how that works?]
One after another, business and professional men, tradesmen and fathers recalled getting bent over and whacked by a lay teacher or a priest during their days at St. Augustine. [one wonders how they grew to be such fine citizens in N'awlenz]
With the distance of age, they told Aymond they appreciated the crack of the paddle for its ability to force a mid-course correction on a young man grown lazy, or disrespectful, or too full of himself. [popcorn or Proverbs, anyone? this is getting good]
A few recalled memorable collective punishment: a whole class getting caned, one by one, for substandard academic performance, or because one miscreant declined to come forward. [let's be fair--I hate this type of punishment. but who am I?]
[Dr. Spock, isn't all this paddling just pent up eroticism? Kinky stuff, right?! You'll know why I ask in a moment...]
“I listened, genuinely,” Aymond said. “The words I heard are that we are different. We are unique. It works for us. It’s not a problem. This is the best way we can do discipline.” [so let's see how the good shepherd responds to the voice of his sheep for the GREATER GOOD.]
Still, Aymond said after the meeting, physical punishment is banned in all Catholic schools for reasons both theological and psychological. “It saddens me that any school in the archdiocese uses corporal punishment,” the archbishop said. [I'm not surprised by the psycho-babble load, but I really want to hear the theological reasons not to DISCIPLINE young people]
Aymond said the concern about corporal punishment at St. Augustine dates back two years, and the concern is his—not a parent’s, nor a lawyer’s.
“I’m not concerned primarily about liability,” he said. “I am concerned about morality. [who mentioned liability? oh, yes. YOU did. hmmm. All that the parents were talking about was discipline.]
“In my mind, to strike another person in this day and age—40, 50, 60 years ago, it might have been OK—but in this day and age, all the data says this is not an appropriate thing to do. [Am I being unfair to see the CLEAR connection between this day and age and HIS mind?]
“It doesn’t foster a positive self-image. I don’t think it’s what the Catholic Church should be doing. And it’s not what Jesus would do.” [He must be watching The View, or Orpah]
The archbishop said he found the matter waiting for him when he arrived in New Orleans from Austin in the late summer of 2009. [Pet peeve alert! Only this time I'm glad they're not capitalizing his title for respect.]
Aymond said his early official readings contained an unusual letter forwarded to New Orleans by the national bishops’ Office of Child and Youth Protection, the abuse-prevention department set up in the wake of the Catholic sex abuse scandal. [?]
Aymond said the letter came from an activist (whom he did not identify) who wrote from Ireland, which is suffering through a sexual abuse scandal in the Catholic Church worse than the American experience in 2002. [Do I, alone, find it odd that there be a connection?]
Aymond said the Irish author singled out the continuing existence of physical punishment at St. Augustine in New Orleans and called it to the bishops’ attention.
Aymond said he inquired and learned that despite archdiocesan prohibition, corporal punishment was and is expressly authorized in St. Augustine’s handbook, administered with a piece of wood at the front of a class. [Just like I remember it being done through my school years]
He said he learned that the archdiocese occasionally received parental complaints, which were forwarded to St. Augustine for handling.
Troy Henry, who chairs the board that runs day-to-day operations at the school, said he was surprised to hear the archbishop had received parental complaints. Henry said he had spoken to school officials, who maintain they have not heard any. [No, I'm not surprised by this either]
Aymond said in late 2009 the archdiocese hired Monica Applewhite, a national consultant on “safe environments” for minors, to review the environment at St. Augustine in conversations with administrators, teachers, parents and students.
Although he declined to discuss her report, he said it was her research underlying his statement that St. Augustine is the last Catholic school in the country to use the wooden paddle.
Aymond said his conversations with the Josephites, the order of Catholic priests that runs St. Augustine, prompted them to call a temporary ban on corporal punishment.(Bruce Nolan writes for The Times-Picayune in New Orleans.)
Biretta tip to GetReligion
15 March 2011
I apologize, gentle readers, for having to go over this issue again so soon. Still, I have to admit that when a reader sent the following URL to your GetReligionistas, I thought for a second that it was a prank.
Before I serve up a chunk of this way-below-average Associated Press report — a version posted at FoxNews.com — let’s review a crucial term in the religion-beat dictionary.
… transitive verb
1: to regard with reverential respect or with admiring deference
2: to honor (as an icon or a relic) with a ritual act of devotion
Read the rest at Terry's splendid page.
...I remember as a Baptist someone would sappily bemoan, "We have not prayed together for a while/long time." Why did they need me to pray? Were they praying to me? Good gracious, NO! Maybe they had developed an appreciation for praying TO GOD in the presence of another dear saint...maybe.
14 March 2011
'But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. To Him be glory both now and for ever. Amen.' (2 S. PET. iii. 18).
WHAT expectation have I of growing in grace, and how is Lent to help me to advance in the knowledge of Christ? Lent is no mere ceremonial regulation, like the Lord Chamberlain's order for Court mourning for so many days. As if the Church should announce that on Ash Wednesday immemorial custom and ecclesiastical propriety demand that we begin to live sadly for forty days, put aside every encouraging consideration, and dwell upon past sin and the consequences of eternal sin. All ornaments are veiled. The silence of a house where one lies dead falls upon the Church according to the Almanack, and joy is out of season for six weeks. On the contrary, George Herbert writes, 'Welcome, dear feast of Lent'; and the meaning of Lent is the spring of the soul and of the Church. It symbolizes not the despair or indifference of the dead in sin, the winter of the soul, but the spring, the stirring of mysteries hidden in the depths of our nature, the silent awaking of a desire to love God, which is new and wonderful--of a capacity of growing in likeness to Christ, which we did not dream of as possible for us; an interior stirring of faith, hope, and love coming to a new life in us; a new glimpse caught of the height of the true aim of the Christian life; a new start in following Christ closely, instead of afar off. Is not that the meaning of the gravity, and of the silence of Lent? The Christian soul is setting herself in a quiet time to remember the highest and deepest thoughts she ever had, and deliberately to choose afresh the highest aim she ever caught sight of. All who intend to obey the Church, and keep Lent, mean that by the grace of God they intend to grow through these forty days in the knowledge and love of God.
The wise world laughs at keeping Lent, a mediaeval custom quite gone out of fashion, and which has long ago lost its symbolism and significance. No; Lent never was in the Early Church a mere significant ceremony; it was a real time of self-discipline, by means of which souls made some way in their escape from the prison of self-love into liberty in the love of God; it was a time in which they took courage to deal practically with selfish sin, strove and conquered lust, laziness, pride, unkindness. Here, where S. Etheldreda and her holy companions served Christ, the keeping of Lent was a serious and practical matter. [The Church of the Holy Trinity, once the Lady-Chapel of the Minster, Ely.] It was just as hard a fight for them to conquer the world, the flesh, and the devil here in the seventh century as it is for us to-day in the nineteenth. No touching Church ceremony could do it then; it was a hand-to-hand fight then by prayer and fasting to cast out the love of self, in order to cause to spring up the mystery of the love of God, sown in our hearts by the Holy Spirit. Lent was a school of Christ for them, and they became saints through discipline. And Lent must be no less serious a discipline for us, but never a discipline of gloom. By the exercises of prayer and self-denial in Lent the soul comes to find out that she is a living soul, made partaker of the Divine Nature, and intended for spiritual advance. On Ash Wednesday, therefore, each of us asks himself, What hope have I of growing in the love of God this Lent?
Lent awakens spiritual hope in us, just as the sight of the enemy awakes the spirit of an army. They were lagging just now, tired with the march, dispirited; but a sudden signal, one turn in the road, shows them the enemy's lines stretching right across their way. How the men's hearts leap up: who is fagged now? So Lent awakes the energy of hope by showing us our enemy, the reality of the battle of life, of our conflict with evil. We all know that our fifty or seventy years in this world were given to us for a great achievement--to conquer the world, the flesh, and the devil, to win holiness for eternity; but we easily forget this, and slip out of range. But Lent rallies us, reminds us of the seriousness of our moral life, of the reality of sin, of bad tendencies of our childhood not conquered yet, of the strength of sins of the flesh, of pride and temper, of love of the world, of cowardice in confessing Christ, of sloth and depression, of neglect of prayer and the sacraments. As we look up, Lent shows us the way to God and our heavenly country, and right across that way, cutting off our road to God and holiness, lies our sin. So Lent brings us to face the enemy and prepare for battle. And hope is the very soul of a battle: the men intend to win that position now held by the enemy at any cost. So in your case, suppose there is sloth, or unbelief, or ill will, or some other vice: your Lent battle means your hope to wrest that position from the enemy. That sin, that indifference, or bad temper, shall be conquered by God's help. There is no evading the issue; that sin is going to conquer me, and separate me from God for ever, or I am going to conquer it. Lent means nothing if it does not imply in each of us a very definite resolution to deal with our besetting sin. But if that resolution of facing the particular evil that holds us back is made, then Lent will not prove for us a mere mediaeval ceremony gone through. No; in two months time we shall be in the middle of April. Will that be nothing? merely two arbitrary divisions of time passed through? Ah! this world will have come to a new life in that short time; the blossom will be on the pear tree then; every field will be aflush with tender green, every willow bush will have its flower. So the honest effort to repent more deeply, to conquer our chief sin by a good Lent, brings us to our spiritual Easter, a new spring of the soul. And we shall see the change; we shall not be coming to one more ceremony in our Easter Communion: we shall welcome and receive Christ risen from the dead, in His power and beauty, putting forth all the energies of His victory in our changed hearts, our self-conquest, our humility.
So I ask you all to make some resolution to-day as we begin Lent, and to write it down, and to offer it to our Lord in true fellowship with Him in His temptation and Sacrifice--a resolution about fighting your oldest and most serious fault, the bad habit that keeps you far from Christ. And I say that your promise so made to God in humble trust in His Spirit, is already an actual advance, a growth in grace, and an earnest of further growth.
If any one declines to respond to any such appeal, saying to himself, 'It is enough for me if I can get through life without scandal,' I ask you to consider whether God could ever have made a man in His own image without intending him to rise above the level of fallen nature in its depressed indifference? At the judgement will the question be, 'Did you live a decent life, without public disgrace?' or will it be, 'Where is that lovely image of God that I gave you? Where is that seed of a heavenly life, which I sowed in you in Baptism, that princely Spirit of Christ, God's love, which I shed abroad in your heart at Confirmation? Did you cultivate the noble plant? Where is its beautiful growth through these twenty or forty years, which I gave to you for nothing but that you should use them in growing in likeness to Me?'
Then, again, your real keeping of Lent by a practical resolution in regard to fasting, prayer, and almsgiving--as to discipline of the body or of the temper--will help you to grow in grace, because it will bring you and keep you nearer to Christ. When an army is on the march, a few will fall out, giving way to weariness or a little slackness, and lagging so they begin at once to lose the spirit of the corps, and feel the discouragement of solitude, and are left behind. Those who keep up with the body have the stimulus of their officers' presence, and of the spirit of the regiment. So Lent means that you are not going to play at soldiering any longer, but that you take up Christ's Cross in sober earnest, and begin to follow Him closely. As you strive by prayer and self-denial to follow, you are keeping well up with our Leader, Who knows who is with Him, and the swing of the march of His companions cheers you.
But Lent is so full of the hope of advance, because the energy of every Christian's Lent resolution is the stirring up of the life of God that is in him--the calling up of the power of Christ's victory over sin, and putting it forth under new circumstances. You might smile to know that a boy here is going to fight against some fault this Lent--is going to get up as soon as he is called in the morning, in order to have time to say his prayers; is going to behave like a gentleman to some one who has been no friend to him; is going to work hard in school instead of idly--you might smile over that Lent resolution, because it is such a small matter! Yes; small, like the live seed that has a huge oak tree of a hundred years hence folded up and hidden in it. You smile over the child's Lent resolution; but your laughing at it will not stop its growing, till it becomes the power and beauty of Christ enthroned in the grown man's character. I know a noble person who converts many to righteousness, of whom a school-fellow said to me, 'I knew him as a boy, and he was just the same at heart when he was at school as he is now; he would never allow a word to be said against the honour of God, against truth or purity.' There was the divine seed, the life of Christ on the throne, hidden in a boy's heart; and here to-day is the great tree, the man whose whole life from the beginning has been the same, but growing--a life of grace, always given to God in the service of men. You may trace the history of that tree of grace fifty years, back to its seed, the child's Baptism, Confirmation, Communions. But when did this seed begin to grow--begin to know the life that was stirring in it, and exert it? It was very likely some call of God responded to, like the Rugby schoolboy Noble's resolution to give his life to God as a missionary; or it was the first time he made a Lent resolution, denied himself, and gave his first Lent savings for the love of God to some charity.
The hope of growth in grace springs out of the self-denial of Lent, for that is the exercise of the sorrows and sacrifice of Christ, of which we are made partakers by the Sacraments. ... Already he is no longer a babe in Christ; he has won his spurs, has dared something, suffered something for the honour of the King, Advance! You can see it in his face; he has grown from Christian childhood to the first hope of Christian knighthood.
And then our hope of advance in Lent will never be the hope of our own solitary improvement...The congregation must keep Lent well, every communicant taking a real part in the spiritual movement, the penitence of Lent, so as to be a support to all the rest: each trying to bring some one to Church who has not found his way there...Our Lent exercise will be patience, that exchanges hot and angry thoughts and words for prayer. And the choir must keep Lent well, as they will be taught by their choirmaster. Then their leading of the daily Song of the Church will be more than ever sacrifice, something given as a means of union with God. There is nothing in public worship that helps us more to seek God earnestly than the song of a choir, who sing not of constraint but for the love of Christ's service, who are reverent in Church, and try everywhere to keep the character of Christ's servants, of which the surplice is only the outward sign.
And whatever victory we win in Lent over any sin, we win it not for self alone, but for the joy of heaven ('there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth') and for the support of all who are trying to serve God...Like a change in the weather: yesterday we were frozen up in mid-winter, but the wind changed from north-east to south in the night, and when. we woke spring was here. Your Lent prayer and effort carried right through to Easter has brought a change of moral temperature, has touched other souls, softened and encouraged them, wakened the remembrance of forgotten blessings. Not one in a family keeps Lent like a Christian, perseveres in prayer and self-denial, but somehow he changes the general tone of life round him in ways nobody can explain. So the whole Body of Christ grows in grace, through the good Lent of one member.
And there is no end to this advance. The ancient chestnut trees yonder that stand round the cathedral, each of them has grown from one seed, dropped there ages ago, and yet their top branches are growing still. This spring the white spires of bloom will be lifted up nearer to heaven than ever, and the giant arms will cast a wider shade, because the life that was in that small seed has not exhausted God's purpose for it yet. But a day will come when old age or a gale of wind will end the growth and history of the great tree. And the Christian penitent who kept Lent well--death will lay him low too, when God wills, but will not end him, but will only set free the life of God that he cherished by prayer and self-discipline--set it free for a new and endless advance.
11 March 2011
Full article here.
When the allied soldiers found the Nazi concentration camp at Ravensbruck where about 92,000 women and children died, they found a note tied to a rock alongside a dead woman and child. It is actually a prayer written by one of the women:
“O Lord, when I shall come with glory into Your kingdom, remember not only the men and women of good will; remember also those of ill will.
“But do not only remember the suffering they have inflicted on us. Remember the fruits we bought thanks to this suffering: our comradeship, our loyalty, our humility, the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart which have become part of our lives because of our suffering here.
“May the memory of us not be a nightmare to them when they stand in judgment. When they come to judgment, let all the fruits that we have borne be their forgiveness. Amen. Amen. Amen.”
10 March 2011
Welcome deare feast of Lent: who loves not thee,
He loves not Temperance, or Authoritie,
But is compos'd of passion.
The Scriptures bid us fast; the Church sayes, now:
Give to thy Mother, what thou wouldst allow
To ev'ry Corporation.
The humble soul compos'd of love and fear
Begins at home, and layes the burden there,
When doctrines disagree.
He sayes, in things which use hath justly got,
I am a scandall to the Church, and not
The Church is so to me.
09 March 2011
LORD, bless to me this Lent.
08 March 2011
My emphases and comments.
Should we invite persons who are not baptized to receive Holy Communion? [all the kewl kids are doing it!] The church is discussing this question today. [in order to be relevant, me thinks!] Anglicans traditionally have believed that the eucharist [editorial warning...this article will never Capitalize the word Eucharist even though it is our central, oldest, and most unifying Sacrament ordained by Jesus Christ] is a family meal, reserved for members of the church through baptism. [...again with these Sacraments not being capitalized, let alone designated as HOLY...I see a pattern (cough, smell an agenda)] Those who are not baptized are not members of the church; therefore, they cannot participate in the family meal.
This exclusive view of the eucharist has a long history. [Damned old traditions again!] St. Paul warns against eating and drinking in an “unworthy manner” (I Cor. 11:27), though he seems to leave the decision whether to partake in the meal to each person’s conscience (I Cor. 11:28). Closed communion is standard practice in some Christian churches, including the Roman Catholic and Orthodox. [and we have no clue as to why--those mean ole bullies! Oh, shoot, my cousin is a Lutheran and they're meanies too, sniff, sniff] However, many Anglican churches throughout the world now practice open communion. There are good reasons, both missional and theological, for doing so. [okay, let's all hold our breath until his discusses the unpleasant (cough, unorthodox) consequences* for doing so...]
The Missional Case
Consider the fact that most Anglican churches now celebrate the eucharist every Sunday at every service. [okay. credit where it's due. this is a great post-conciliar correction.] Yet many people are not baptized. How do we reach them? [Read, "How do we get around that, rather than do anything about it?"] Do we invite them to church for Sunday dinner [pass 'em 'er biscuits, Merle!] and tell them they cannot eat the food? [never mind the wedding garment thingy...no parables about that...so...]
How, in our multicultural and pluralistic society, can our churches be places of hospitality if we exclude table fellowship with the non-baptized? This is not an academic question. [Winning clarification, that!] In Canada, a growing number of the population is not baptized. [No! we shan't do the work of evangelization! that would be exclusivist and bigoted.] Included are people from different religious traditions or people with no religious affiliation at all. Quite likely, some are our grandchildren or great-grandchildren, whose parents neglected or refused to have them baptized. [I knew this paragraph was going down hill]
How can the church effectively minister in a post-Christian world where a significant percentage of the population is not baptized? [chirp...chirp...nope, can't think of a single way] Some Anglican churches are attempting to meet this challenge by becoming open and inclusive faith communities, [OPEN and INCLUSIVE are always good things, right?] ready and willing to support people in their spiritual journeys. [because it's all about the journey] They understand that the Anglican tradition has never been content to adopt a sectarian mentality, to insulate itself from culture or to refuse to connect with an unchurched population. [The word adopt occurs in his narrative...yet no connection to Holy Baptism...how splendidly relevant!]
Open communion increasingly is seen [just allow us to show you...yawn] as a way to build a bridge [bridge? I'll leave the Latin word for that alone] between the church and the unchurched. [because, of course, there really is no other way] If people are “spiritual but not religious” as several sociological studies indicate, then the desire for transcendence experienced in sacramental worship may well draw them to church. [unless the un-capitalized 'church' has quit being The Church. In which case they might just fly home to experience private sensations without other individuals interfering with the reception]
There is a pattern here:[oh, you see one too, do you?] experience, community, and faith—in that order. [and ALWAYS in that order...money quote if there ever was one] In this organic process, experience is foundational to faith. I term this “experiential evangelism”—offering people an experience of God that draws them into the Christian community and leads to faith in Jesus. There is precedent for this model. Solomon Stoddard, the father-in-law of Jonathan Edwards [notable Anglican worthy...not] and himself one of the great New England Puritan pastors, referred to Holy Communion [kudos on the dignified attribution] as a “converting ordinance” in which the experience of receiving communion served to transform the heart of the recipient. [which is just what Edwards meant, you see]
We now live in a post-modern world that places heart over head, feeling over thought, intuition over logic and image over words. [Oh thank heaven we've all grown up and cast off those nasty nannies--head, thought, logic, and words] “We have a generation that is less interested in cerebral arguments, linear thinking, theological systems,” observes Leith Anderson, author of Dying for Change. Instead, they are “more interested in encountering the supernatural,” he says. It is by an experience with the supernatural that people enter into community. It is through community that people come to faith. [contra Anselm it's the new way to come to church]
To be sure, this is a significant shift in the way Anglicans usually have thought of Christian formation. The traditional model holds that believing leads to belonging—you believe the faith of the church in order to belong to the church. In this model, the church made confirmation a prerequisite to communion. However, an emerging model reverses the order, and holds that belonging leads to believing. Insofar as people belong to a Christian community, they come to believe in the faith of that community. [each and every time this is true!...funny there is no footnote or quote from a trusted authority that has performed actual research into this] In this model, communion leading to baptism may complement the still normative practice of baptism leading to communion. [sure, it just may. let's all wait and see]
This new model of Christian formation is consistent with church growth methodology. “The old paradigm taught that if you have the right teaching, you will experience God,” writes Leith Anderson. “The new paradigm says that if you experience God, you will have the right teaching.” [I promise I'm not making this up!]
Open communion played a major part in the rapid growth of my parish in Southern California. I saw the same scenario repeated many times—non-Christians receiving Holy Communion and experiencing God in a powerful way, leading to a desire to be baptized. Therefore, I ask: might we not see the experience of receiving communion as a way of drawing people to faith in Jesus?
The Theological Case
There is, however, another consideration. Who is the host of the Lord’s Supper? God is. God welcomes us. Even before we ask for food, God spreads a table before us. God’s all-embracing hospitality is a hallmark of the meal we call eucharist. [hey, he's capitalizing God, if no one noticed]
One of the most powerful witnesses of God’s inclusive love is the welcoming table, so prevalent among southern black churches in the United States. At these fellowship dinners, held on church grounds, a large meal is prepared for anyone who might come: rich and poor, black and white, stranger and church member. [taking nothing away from these events which I love, that is not a Eucharist] In the days of the segregationist south, when legal measures were ruthlessly enforced to prevent different races from eating together or even sharing a water fountain, the welcoming table was a powerful witness to God’s inclusive love. [?]
Might not the Lord’s Table in Anglican churches be understood as a welcoming table? Is it possible for us to see the altar as a symbol of inclusion rather than exclusion? Anglican biblical scholar John Koenig and reformed theologian Amy Plantinga Pauw have argued separately that the most pervasive image in the Bible is the banquet table, with God serving as a generous host. Salvation is feasting in the kingdom of God, where people will come from north and south, east and west to sit at table together. In Isaiah 25:6−9, for example, the banquet is a symbol of salvation, with the invitation extended to “all peoples” and “all nations”—not just Israel.
This table fellowship is at the heart of Jesus’ ministry. Jesus welcomed all kinds of people to his table: rich people, poor people, good people, sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes, you name them, and they came to eat and drink with Jesus (Mt. 9:9−10; Luke 14:12−23;19:5). [how many of them were at the first Eucharist? how unjust and exclusivist of our dear Lord!] United Methodist Bishop William Willimon has said that Jesus’ open invitation “manifested the radically inclusive [not just inclusive, but radically inclusive] nature of his kingdom, a kingdom that cuts across the barriers we erect between insiders and outsiders, the saved and the damned, the elect and the outcast—barriers often most rigidly enforced at the table.”
Jesus welcomed all sorts of people to his table. [He was invited to their tables in the book I read] Might we also welcome people with the same openness and acceptance as he did? [oh, why not?, nothing is sacred anymore!] After all, it is the Lord’s Table, not ours. Who are we to exclude the very people that Jesus includes in his ministry? [while we're at it let's teach the unbelievers to serve this Holy Group-Meal and clean up afterward]
The Rev. Dr. Gary Nicolosi is the rector at St. James Westminster Anglican Church in London, Ont.
*edited from reasons.
25 February 2011
Here is the message given by His Eminence to Dallas Theological Seminary faculty [not chapel or any other broad audience].
23 February 2011
On The Wednesdays Of Lent.
O Holy Jesu, I beseech Thy loving-kindness. Despise me not: yea, rather regard me, O Lord, regard me with those eyes wherewith Thou didst regard
Magdalene in the banquet,
Peter in the hall,
the thief on the Cross;
that with Peter I may weep,
with the thief may confess,
with Magdalene may love;
may love much, yea very much, for that many sins are forgiven me.
Spare me, O Lord; spare me, a penitent: at the least desiring to be a penitent, and preparing thereto; recollecting my sins with bitterness, indignant with myself concerning them, remembering and laying hold of Thy most bitter Passion.
Spare, O Lord, have mercy! Spare me, O Lord, have mercy on me! pity me, because it is not difficult to Thy power, nor unbefitting Thy justice, nor unusual to Thy clemency.
O Lamb of God, That takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon me.
Lord, let a new manner of life prove that a new spirit hath descended on me: for true penitence is new life; and true praise unremitted penitence, and the observation of a perpetual Sabbath from sin, its occasions, and its danger. For as penitence destroys old sins, so do new sins destroy penitence.
O God, my heart is ready; so saith the Psalmist: but I fear, Lord, lest mine should not be ready. I would that it were: I grieve, if it be not. Lord, prepare it: assist my disposal, and supply my preparation of it. I will put my sins before my sight; that they may not be put before Thine.
By Thy Baptism, Fasting, and Temptation,
Good Lord, deliver me.
24 January 2011
I show up at 7:30 am. The Cathedral of Guadalupe in downtown Dallas. It's the day I've been waiting for. I show up to show my solidarity with all those who oppose abortion. I board a local Catholic School bus along with dozens of other faithful to pray the rosary and march around the Routh Street Women's Center. As the bus pulls away I hear from the back,
Thus began a day filled with being confused for a Catholic priest. Well, I was the only one dressed for the part on that bus.
As the rosary got going, I was enthused to say the least. The roaring responses lifted me out of my skin. These souls were serious about the mission of the day!
Next the bus stopped and the door burst open. We marched around the block drifting to our own cadences...yet all still in prayer...and in unison. When we reached the front windows of the clinic I could see folk moving about inside. All our voices seemed to rise higher at this moment.
Once more around the block and back on the bus to the Cathedral.
I had many encounters throughout the day that I am still processing. I am left with two puzzles. Was I the only Anglican priest there? Could that really be true? I know of another, for sure.
Then I began to wonder where all the Catholic priests were. Where all the religious? I saw many Bishops, some priests inside the Cathedral, a scattering of religious...perhaps a few from each monastic rule. It was not what I expected.
That may be due to many factors. I remember seeing Catholic priests [as well as mainline clergy] marching alongside the civil rights protesters in the 1960s. Did the press skew my memory to think that combination was normal?
Anywho, I think I get why there were so few Anglican/Episcopal clergy present.
Were Catholic diocesan priests not able to attend because they were busy with parish life and leadership? Where they making pilgrimage to Washington, D.C. to march on the mall? I'm still kind of wondering. I don't know. I don't presume to know why, either. I just do not know the answer and, yes, I rather bothers me.
I intended to show solidarity...not lead other men's flocks in prayer.