Aiken South Carolina

May 12, 2008 By Fr. Dwight Longenecker

On Saturday I had the luck to visit Aiken, South Carolina to lead a day seminar on the foundations of liturgy for the people and servers of the parish of Our Lady. One of our new priests, Fr Jeff Kirby is the parochial vicar there, assisting Fr LeBlanc. It was great to be given such a warm welcome by two of our best priests in the diocese.

There was an excellent turnout. My first talk was a Bible study on the Mystery of Sacrifice. This takes us through the Old Testament–explaining the ancient reasons for a sacrificial system of worship, and showing how it evolved and developed within the Jewish history of redemption. The Lamb of God becoming the primary image of sacrifice. The talk then goes through the New Testament images of sacrifice in Christian worship, and concludes with a reminder for sacrifice to continue to be the primary image for the celebration of Mass.

The second talk is a New Testament Bible study on the word ‘mystery’. We go into the background of the mystery religions of the ancient world, and how St Paul picks up this image and uses it to discuss the incarnation. The lecture then explores how the ‘mystery’ is administered by the apostolic Church according to St Paul’s teaching in Romans and Ephesians. It then goes into the comparison of ‘mystery’ and ‘sacrament’ and shows how our worship is meant to reveal and conceal the mystery of the incarnation.

Both of these principles of worship are far more emphasized within the Biblical account and the worship history of the Hebrew people and the Christian Church than the idea that worship is ‘the people of God gathered around the table of God for a fellowship meal.’ While this idea is not incorrect, and not alien to the New Testament, or the Hebrew tradition, it is always subsidiary and complementary to the much larger and more important themes of sacrifice and mystery.

However, the ‘family meal’ image of Christian worship has somehow predominated in recent Catholic liturgical thought. This has affected everything. It affects how we celebrate Mass, how we build our churches, how we dress, who are the servers, what we choose for music, etc etc etc.

Moving forward to a fuller understanding of the roots of Catholic worship within the concepts of sacrifice and mystery will help all our people to move forward with the reform of the reform, and doing so with a good solid Bible study from a former fundamentalist should give some Catholics some good old fashioned surprise.

A DVD of these talks will soon be available on my updated website. If you would like me to visit your parish to conduct one of these seminars, drop me a line.

The Hall and the Side Rooms

May 9, 2008 By Fr. Dwight Longenecker

In his introduction to Mere Christianity C.S.Lewis says that once you decide to become a Christian it is like coming into the hall of a great house, and off the hall there are lots of side rooms. If becoming a Christian is coming into the great hall, choosing a denomination is deciding which room you want to lodge in.

Now I am a great fan of C.S.Lewis, and I can count on one hand the times I have ever disagreed with the great man, but this is one of them, and it’s a pretty big disagreement. What has long troubled me about Lewis’ hall and side rooms analogy is that he undercuts his own argument. He says that you mustn’t choose the side room according to the furnishings or decoration–in other words, you mustn’t choose a denomination because you like the worship or think the music is nice, or you like the youth pastor or any other subjective matter of opinion. Instead, he says, you must choose according to which one you think is most true.

This reveals an alarming attitude of subjective relativism in the great man. What! Must we choose according to what we think is most true? How shall we make such a choice? What criteria shall we use to determine what is most true? Lewis never says. He never even hints that there are other criteria of authority by which we should choose. He simply says that we must ourselves choose according to which room we think is most true.

The other relativistic part of his teaching is the assumption that all the rooms are of equal value and equal worth, and yet how can this be when he has said we must choose according to which ones are most true? If some are truer than others, then they are not all of the same worth and value. Is their truthfulness (and therefore their value) measured simply by our making the choice? That is to say, “I have chosen this room, therefore this room must be the one that is most true, at least, this room is the one that is most true for me.”

I am no great Lewis scholar, but I know Lewis well enough to know that he would tut tut, snort and roar with dismay at anyone who would propose such a relativistic way of deciding a religious denomination. Indeed, what if the whole analogy were to be put, not to deciding a Christian denomination, but a religion? What if he would have said, “Once you have come to believe in God you have entered the large hall of a great house called Theistic belief. Now you must choose which religion to follow. Here are the Muslims, there are the Hindus, over here we have the Jews, the Bahais are there, the Mormons, the Christians etc. It is up to you to choose the one you think most true. Happy hunting!”

Alas, he would refute such relativism, and rightly so. Why then, did Lewis make such a blunder, if blunder it is? I’m sure he saw the logical mis-step–he was too brilliant not to. Perhaps he was concerned to be ecumenical and not offend any group of Christians. It is my opinion, however, that there were certain paths Lewis chose not to travel.

You see, if some of those rooms are more true than others, than by definition, there must be one room which is most true. If there is one room which is most true, how shall we decide which it is? Lewis has said we dare not choose because we like the stained glass, the architecture, the history, the music or the preaching. We must choose according to facts. We must choose according to the Scriptures. We must turn to the writings of the apostles and prophets. We must look to the writings of the early church historians and theologians.

We must go an a quest to find that one truth which must be big enough to encompass all the others. We must look for that one church from which all the others have sprung. We must look for the one church which is older, more venerable and larger than all the others. I think Lewis knew that road led to Rome, and he decided that was a path he could not follow.

Countering the Performance Culture

May 8, 2008 By Fr. Dwight Longenecker

I will be in Aiken, South Carolina on Saturday leading a day workshop and lecture on worship. The first session is The Meaning of Sacrifice, the second, The Meaning of Mystery. Then a workshop session, How Shall We then Worship?

It seems to me that within American Catholicism one of the things we need most to counter attack is an underlying performance culture. Everything in modern America seems to condition people to expect a performance. Whether it is the canned performance of our politicians, the ubiquitous television and film screens, the polished performance of the trained sales personnel or the performances of our preachers and televangelists, we have come to expect that if we are involved in public speaking or teaching or leading worship that we must perform, and if we are in the seat, the pew, the bench or the easy chair, we expect a performance.

This underlying assumption in American culture is insidious. Because it is an underlying assumption it is very difficult to challenge. It pervades everything. When it comes to sacred music, for instance, it is clear that the composers and lyricists themselves have been trained in a musical culture that assumes that it is all about performance. Whether their area of performance is classical, pop, Broadway or whatever–music is about performance. As a result, sacred music, from the ground up, is written for a performance culture. The choral music is all c cleverly arranged so the composer, the conductor and the performers can all put on a good show.

This creeps into the sacred music too, so that the music we are being offered is conceived within a performance culture, created within a performance culture and is therefore practices and performed within the same performance culture. It is very difficult, therefore within church, to convince people involved with the music that it is not really about performance at all, and that their job is to do just the opposite of what they have been trained to do–that is, to fit in, to blend in, to fade away, to complement the liturgy and never to draw attention to the music, and certainly not to the performers.

Priests, also must realize that the liturgy is not a performance. We don’t have to bend over backward to be relevant, cool and with it. Of course homilies should be well prepared and there is nothing wrong with keeping people’s attention and using oratorical skills to preach God’s word well, but the liturgy is greater than us, and the priest is not a performer. He is enacting and bringing into the present moment the one, full final sacrifice.

Everything else submits to that.

Catholic Liturgy Today

January 30, 2008 By Fr. Dwight Longenecker

We have Curt Jester to thank for these shapshots of Catholic liturgy. A friend and fellow convert called me last week just about at his wits’ end with the music in his parish. Three ancient crones with one guitar squawking out the latest goofy song as a recessional, “We can make a difference…we can make a difference in the world.”

“I can’t stand it anymore” said my friend. “The music is awful. Just awful. Combine that with the fact that we have a very sweet and intelligent African priest, but we just can’t understand him. His accent is too strong, and because of the priest shortage he’s only here for a few months, and he won’t change anything. My wife and son don’t want to go to Mass at all because its so awful, and its so bad I have to admit they’re even tempted to go to the local Protestant mega church. We’ve tried real hard to say, ‘Yes, its the Mass and we’re there for Jesus not the music, but I come out of Mass angry and surely that’s not the way. Why do they choose such awful crap?”

I had to remind him that unfortunately a good number of the people in the pew actually do like that stuff. Yes, dear traditionalists, it’s true. While many Catholics roll their eyes and endure the most execrable musical and liturgical travesties, many other Catholics do actually like the stuff.

The thing is, I’m not so trad that I’m against rock music. We had a pretty decent Catholic rock band do a concert at school today. I’m not even totally against rock music at Mass. At the giant youth rally at March for Life a decent rock band played ‘We can make a difference’ and with 25,000 kids singing it before the March for Life it was great.

But for most masses on a regular basis all the trendy silly stuff just doesn’t work. I don’t say this just because I dislike that kind of music, but because it just isn’t worship. Nine times out of ten the music and the words are all about me feeling good, not me worshiping God. It’s not a matter of taste. It’s a matter of what worship is, and what the liturgy is supposed to do.

What’s to be done? The only hope is that a new generation of priests and people will learn that Mass is not about entertainment, and they will leave all the puppets and clowns and go go dancers and sentimental music shows and concerts and try Catholic worship for a change.

Going for Baroque

January 2, 2008 By Fr. Dwight Longenecker

A commenter notes about Benedict XVI’s more exalted taste in regalia that he doesn’t think Peter the fisherman would be comfortable in such outfits.

This is a commonplace argument when faced with the glories of Catholic regalia, liturgy, music or architecture. “What!” says the tourist when faced with an Austrian baroque church, “this is hardly the sort of temple one would expect for one born in a stable.” Another similar argument protests that such rich finery and opulent temples are a waste of money. The expenditure should go to the poor.

We must come back with several trenchant replies. First of all, one must understand the reason for the fine architecture, the rich vestments, the beautiful music and the exalted liturgy. It is there not to show the humble aspect of our Lord’s birth, but his glorious existence today. The Catholic opulence is not show for the sake of show. It is a feeble attempt to remind us of the glory of heaven. It is an attempt to take us into the very presence of the heavenly host. The baroque churches exemplify this best. The plaster, the gilt, the columns, the ormolu, the cherubs and lush paintings are all an attempt to pull back the veil and glimpse the glories of heaven. It is the same for the grand music, the fine vestments and the glorious liturgies. They do not show the humility and humanity of Christ, (the church does this in other ways) but the worship of the King of Glory.

The question is not so much, “Would Peter the fisherman be comfortable in richly embroidered regalia?” but “What does Saint Peter the Great Apostle look like where he is now?” I doubt if he is wearing a fisherman’s smock and smelling of yesterday’s catch. To be sure, he is now clothed in the radiance of Christ himself. Now he wears the matryr’s crown, he is robed in white and no doubt if we could see his heavenly vesture they would make the pope’s fine robes look like beggar’s rags. The Pope does not therefore show us Peter the Fisherman, but Saint Peter the Apostle–more glorious in holiness than we could dare imagine.

There is more to it than this: what shall we make of the argument that the money should be given to the poor? We must be careful here. That is the argument of Judas. We must remember when the woman came and broke the vessel of rich ointment over the feet of Jesus. What a costly and extravagant act of worship, and yet it was fitting and it was Judas who would have stopped such worship.

Remember also, that the finery and the opulence and grandeur is not the only display the church makes. While the pope displays the power and the glory and the destiny of the saints, the poor missionaries of charity display the foundation for that power and glory. While the fine liturgies display the great grace of God active in the world, the poor missionaries, friars and those persecuted for their faith display the source and true foundation of God’s action in the world. Everywhere the church is both in the gutter with the lowest of humanity and yet reminding us of our destiny among the stars.

Both are needed if we are to be true, and both were there from the very beginning. The shepherds worshiped at the stable with their simple gifts, their crude poverty and their humble faith, but the kings were there too. With their fine robes, and their costly gifts they made an offering worthy of the King of Kings.

If we are to be true to the incarnation then this dual offering will always be made. We will always offer the gifts of the poor from the poor to the one who became poor for our sake, but we will also always offer the richest and finest things to the one who is the King of Kings.

Miracles

December 27, 2007 By Fr. Dwight Longenecker

One of the regular commentators on this blog is a British fellow who was brought up a Catholic and has left the Catholic Church for charismatic Protestantism. It’s great to have him here because his questions and comments are always lively and, although sometimes punchy, are always put with good humor and a charitable spirit.

I can certainly understand why some people would leave the Catholic Church for charismatic Protestantism. Maybe within Catholicism they had a genuinely bad experience at the hands of some terrible priest or some other Catholic hypocrite. Perhaps they were poorly catechized and only made what they feel is a personal response through the ministry of the Protestant Church. If that is so, then the Catholic Church let them down. Once in the Protestant church they no doubt received anti-Catholic teaching and became critical of the Catholic Church. All that is understandable (though regrettable)

Our particular commentator though, claims that one of the reasons he went for the charismatic church was because there was a lack of miracles in the Catholic Church. This is one I just don’t get. I realize that charismatic Protestantism claims great miracles: they claim to raise people from the dead, people are healed of AIDs, homosexuality is ‘healed’. They claim exorcisms of all sorts: the spirit of almost anything that troubles you can be ‘cast out.’ Why I once knew of a charismatic who used to cast out the ‘demon’ of thumbsuckng from young children. The list or miracles goes on. I remember the Toronto blessing when people miraculously were filled with the Holy Spirit and got down on all fours and barked like dogs, mooed like cows and did all sorts of amazing things–all through the wonderful power of the Holy Spirit! Why there are even charismatics in the American south who take the New Testament at face value and drink poison and handle rattlesnakes and are not harmed. (well some are, but that’s proof that they were sinners and didn’t have enough faith…)

Now, I for one, don’t like to be skeptical of anything. If someone claims exorcisms and healings and raising from the dead, I really don’t think it is kind to ask the obvious questions like, “Gosh, does that mean they don’t have undertakers in that town anymore?” or “I guess with all the healings the doctors and hospitals have gone out of business.” or “My word, what sort of implications are there for the pension business now that people aren’t dying anymore?” No indeed, I’m a positive sort of fellow and want to praise God for the miracles that undoubtedly do occur within charismatic Protestantism.

So let us be positive about the miracles within charismatic Protestantism, but what I find curious is that our particular friend abandoned Catholicism for want of miracles. What! one jumps overboard from the barque of Peter because there aren’t enough miracles? Why the Catholics have a list of miracles to make any Charismatic green with envy. The Catholics have miracles most charismatics wouldn’t even dream of.

Let’s start with the saints: first of all, for the saint to be declared a saint they need to have performed a couple of miracles not just from the evangelistic revival tent, but from heaven. Now that’s a pretty impressive accomplishment I’d say! Then there are the lives of the saints themselves. There are those who have had visions and locutions from heaven, saints who have stigmata, saints who have levitated, saints who have existed for decades on nothing but the Eucharistic host, saints with healing gifts, saints who could ‘read souls’, saints who could bi-locate, saints who have received miraculous stigmata. Then there are the saints whose bodies were incorrupt after death, those whose corrupt bodies exuded supernatural light and a fragrance of roses, and those who have exuded a holy fragrant oil that healed people.

The list goes on! We have to include miraculous apparitions of the Blessed Virgin, the sun spinning at Fatima, visions of Jesus and messages from heaven. Then there are bleeding statues, weeping statues, Eucharistic hosts that bleed and faithful souls who are healed at all these wonderful shrines and places of miraculous pilgrimage.

That someone might leave the Catholic Church for a humdinger of a Bible study, or for a hefty sermon, or for some spirit lifting praise and worship music, or warm Christian fellowship, or for a more relaxed moral code which allows them to be divorced and remarried without any sort of discipline, or for a church of their own choosing and their own making, or for the assurance that they are going straight to heaven without having to suffer either in this life or in the life hereafter–well all that is pretty attractive and I can see why someone would scoot out of the Catholic Church for all that.

But to leave because the Catholic Church doesn’t have enough miracles?