As has been obvious, I have found it increasingly difficult to post on this blog with any regularity for quite some time. The fact is, I have dedicated much of my professional and ministerial life for the last 25 years to promoting, studying and teaching about the renewed diaconate in the Catholic Church. I had hoped that starting a blog would facilitate some of that effort, and it has been, for me, a real act of love.
However, I have found that various other priorities -- family, diocesan ministry, teaching, parish ministry, writing (I am currently working on four book projects, plus I'm a regular contributor to Priest and Deacon Digest) and traveling to direct retreats and to present at convocations of priests and deacons -- are just keeping me from being able to give the necessary attention to the poor blog. What I need is a good blog editor who would be willing to take that on for me! Comments from readers critical of my sporadic postings (as well as criticizing what I DO choose to post; seems like others had a view of what this blog -- my personal blog, no less -- should be!) have confirmed me in this decision.
So, at least for the foreseeable future, I'm signing off the blog. If you have any need to contact me, please find me on Facebook or e-mail me at billditewig@msn.com.
God bless all here, and be good servants to each other!
On several levels, I find the recent article by John R. Donahue, SJ in Commonweal to be a brilliant and insightful example of liturgical and theological scholarship at its best. In fact, I have begun giving the article to students as a good example of academic methodology. Read the whole article right here. In "Cup or Chalice? The Large Implications of a Small Change," Fr. Donahue focuses on just one of the recent liturgical changes, and one that seems fairly innocuous at first. But small changes considered cumulatively can add up to something quite significant. Before turning to specific concerns, let's first consider some basic tenets of communications.
Whether we refer to the vessel used by Jesus as a "cup" or a "chalice" may not seem like much at first, but as Fr. Donahue illustrates, it matters greatly. What some of those involved in these translations seem to have missed is something that every first year student of communications theory understands well. Let's consider some basics. We begin with an idea which we desire to communicate to another person. It's deep inside my head and heart, however, so I have to find a way to encode what I mean in a variety of ways. Perhaps I will choose words as these symbols; perhaps I will draw a picture or sing a song; perhaps I will simply do something that expresses the inner reality. Once the internal message is "encoded" we need to find the best medium by which to transmit that message. Perhaps I will write a book or compose a poem. And then comes the challenging part: I know what I want to say, and I've worked hard to find the best words and other symbols to assist in communicating that message; however, the recipient of my communication must be able to receive and "decode" those words and other symbols in a manner that comes close to replicating my original meaning. With any luck, that internal reality that was in me has now found resonance in the other person. In other words, it's not just important that I get the words right; the recipients need to be able to "get them right" as well, or any attempt at communication will be lost. How do we know whether this has happened? This takes place through the most important part of the communications loop: the feedback loop. This is how we know whether or not our message has been understand as we intended. How many times in life have we had to say, "Oh, that's not what I meant!" when someone responded to something we've said or written or done?
After seven months of the "new" translation, what is being communicated via that "feedback loop"? Fr. Donahue mentions the stumbling over prayers (especially, I would note, the Collects) by presiders, the "resignation" of all to the various archaic English expressions which were supposed to evoke a sense of elevation, reverence and awe, according to the proponents of the translation. Instead, the language in many cases simply sounds and feels remote and artificial according to the many comments made by parishioners. Furthermore, and this is something not mentioned by Fr. Donahue, but something that I feel is quite significant: From what I have experienced over these months in assisting as deacon at many Masses presided over by many different priests has been a tendency to "re-write" (especially the Collects) the prayers, usually on the fly, in order to help them be more understandable in proclaimed form. While I applaud the pastoral sensitivity involved, I would simply point out that this opens the door to increasing adaptation of the very texts which its designers sought to avoid!
More disturbing, of course, is the further "distancing" caused by many of the choices made in the new translation. By focusing exclusively on the Latin text, and despite the claims of proponents to the contrary, we have distanced our liturgical language from our more ancient scriptural and liturgical roots. "Faithfulness to the Latin" -- and even how well that claim stands up to scrutiny is a matter of debate in itself! -- has undercut the intentions of both Dei Verbum and Sacrosanctum Concilium by cutting us off not only from the more ancient terms found in Greek, Aramaic and Hebrew, but from the rich tapestry of meanings those ancient terms sought to convey. Vatican II wanted the sacraments to be characterized by a "noble simplicity", and in language accessible to all with ease.
Turning to Fr. Donahue's specific question, I would only add that, in my opinion, the repeated use of "chalice" constitutes an anachronism. The term "chalice" in modern times has come to mean the kind of liturgical vessel familiar to many at Mass; we don't speak of wine "chalices" in our homes, or even in fancy restaurants. The term is almost exclusively used in reference to a church vessel. As Fr. Donahue points out, there was a Greek version of a more ornate liturgical vessel reflected by its own Greek word, but the fact is, such a Temple cup was NOT what Christ used, nor is that what is referred to throughout most of Judeo-Christian scriptures! What IS referred to is a cup, plain and simple. To retroject the word "chalice" into the liturgical language is, in short, anachronistic, misplaced, and misleading. Put simply, the focus of the translation seems to be on the first half of the communications loop: finding the right symbols and meanings to translate the Latin text, without paying any real significant attention to the second half of the loop: How will all of this be received, translated and interpreted by the people receiving the message?
I find it interesting and amusing that even Hollywood understands all of this quite well, and perhaps the proponents of the change from "cup" to "chalice" might have benefited from re-watching that great theological epic, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (which, I might point out, was all about the quest for the Holy Grail: the CUP that Jesus used at the Last Supper). In the climactic scene the villain and the hero must choose which vessel was the one used by Christ. The villain chooses the most ornate "chalice" of all the vessels there, saying that this was truly worthy of "the King of Kings"; in doing so, in "choosing poorly" (as the ancient guardian proclaims), the villain is doomed. The hero, conversely, chooses the "cup" of a carpenter's son; he has "chosen wisely" and is able to find renewed life.
As a deacon, linguist and theologian, I have found the journey of "reception" of the newest translation of the Roman Missal to be a mixed bag at best. These "little" examples ("cup" vs. "chalice", "many" vs "all", and of course who can forget "dewfall," "consubstantial" and "oblation"?) add up to an effective rejection of the positions taken by the world's Catholic bishops gathering in council at Vatican II: that the liturgy should be expressed in language easily understood, grounded in the most ancient Tradition of the church, and in ways that would ensure the "full, conscious and active participation" of all. I find that just the opposite is happening, and that many of our parishioners are finding that when coupled with so many other examples of ecclesial "distancing" from the real lives and problems of people, this becomes just one more reason to walk away from the institutional dimensions of the Church.
The symbols chosen for us are not being interpreted and understood as intended, which means we must go back to the drawing board and try again. We must choose wisely.
Much has been written lately about "conscience" as it relates to public policy in the United States. There have been statements about policies which would expect "the Church" or "institutions of the Church" (such as hospitals and schools) to "violate their consciences." It seems to me that a helpful and necessary first step in reflecting on all of this is a quick review of the Church's teaching on the nature and exercise of "conscience." To do that, we turn to the Second Vatican Council.
In the Council's Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (#16) we read: "Deep within his conscience a person discovers a law which he
has not laid upon himself but which he must obey. Its voice, ever calling
him to love and to do what is good and to avoid evil, tells him inwardly
at the right moment: do this, shun that. For a person has in his heart a law
inscribed by God. His dignity lies in observing this law, and by it he
will be judged. His conscience is man's most secret core, and his
sanctuary." This quote gives us one of the best descriptions out there about the conscience. Notice that this is not a corporate conscience, but a radically individual conscience: "There he is alone with God whose voice echoes in his depths."
Later in the same document (#76), the public impact of individual conscience is described: "It is of supreme importance, especially in a
pluralistic society, to work out a proper vision of the relationship
between the political community and the Church, and to distinguish clearly
between the activities of Christians, acting individually or collectively
in their own name as citizens guided by the dictates of Christian
conscience, and their activity acting along with their pastors in the name
of the Church." Perhaps this is precisely the point we find ourselves struggling with at this point of time in our political life: we are involved in trying to "work out" that vision.
Cardinal Bea with Blessed John XXIII
Cardinal Bea
The other day, during a conversation on some of these issues, a person quoted the old cliche that "error has no rights" and, in his opinion, that ended the argument! I came across a wonderful insight from one of the great leaders of the Second Vatican Council: Cardinal Augustin Bea. Cardinal Bea, a Bavarian Jesuit and a close friend of Pope John XXIII, was a long-time scripture scholar who had been Pope Pius XII's confessor. Pope John created Fr. Bea a Cardinal (he was not a bishop) in 1959, and he became the first head of the office promoting Christian Unity and the relationship of the Catholic Church to other faiths. On 13 January 1963, after the second session of the Council, Cardinal Bea gave a lecture at Pro Deo University in Rome. During his talk, he spoke of the liberty of conscience and that he would be working on the document which would address "the inviolability of the human conscience as the final right of every person, no matter what his religious beliefs or ideological allegiance." He referred to the axiom that "error has no right to exist," but he proclaimed that although this is a popular expression used "glibly by"certain Catholic apologists," this statement is "sheer nonsense." He correctly (in my opinion) points out that "error is an abstract concept incapable of either rights or obligations." Rather, it is human persons who have rights, and even when persons are in error "their right to freedom of conscience was absolute."
I'll wrap this up for now, although I'm sure we will all continue to reflect on all of this over the days, weeks and months ahead.
Benedictine Father Anthony Ruff, at the PrayTell blog, recently offered a translation of a talk given by psychologist Wunibald Muller at a recent conference at the University of Graz in Austria. Fr. Ruff's post may be read in its entirety here. The talk gives some fascinating insights into the mind of the pastoral ministers who have consulted Dr. Muller, including the following:
1) He speaks "a growing chasm between personal convictions and what
is expected by church employers, between personal dialogue and a 'clericalist manner'. . . . Many pastoral workers suffer from being overburdened,
oftentimes along with health problems such as burn-out."
2) He describes church ministers who “went into ministry under completely different conditions, with completely different expectations.” Church workers report with ever greater frequency that they strive to be loyal to the church, but this makes them feel “disloyal to their own soul.”
3) Muller reports that many of the church workers he works with (including members of the clergy) expend much of their energy “maintaining the external facade and hiding what they really think and live.”
4) Dr. Muller concludes that the Church's ministers today need an ability to cope with conflict and resilience. “If we as church coworkers do not
wish to become resigned, we must be ready to take up the balancing act
of dealing with the concrete situation in the church on the one hand, without selling our heart and soul on the other hand.”
I think many of us in ministry can find much value and resonance in what Dr. Muller has found in his work with other pastoral ministers. He refers to a need for ministers to find "crisis energy" in dealing with this "chasm." I also think all of us can benefit from a serious reflection on where we find ourselves in this issue. The results of dealing with such a crisis on a personal level can lead to ministerial burnout and worse. In keeping with my last posting, regarding the balance between contemplation and action, much of our prayerful contemplation must include an honest assessment of where we find ourselves in terms of personal conviction and public responsibilities.
Over at "Whispers in the Loggia," Rocco recently reported on the papal audience of 25 April, in which Pope Benedict reflected extensively on Acts 6. Since this passage has often been associated throughout the Tradition as having particular relevance for deacons, I offer the following.
Contemplation -- then, Action!
The pope, in his remarks, drew attention to Peter’s understanding of
the problem being faced by the growing number of Christians living in Jerusalem:
On the one hand, the needs of the Greek speaking community of Jerusalem needed
to be met, and quickly; on the other, the Twelve recognized that they couldn’t
do it all by themselves.They needed to
remain free for prayer and preaching the Gospel.Both contemplation and action were needed as
part of the Christian community.As the
pope noted: “In every age the saints have stressed the deep vital unity between
contemplation and activity.”
I have written often about the balance that is
essential in the ministry and life of a permanent deacon: balance between
family and ministerial obligations, balance between his secular employment and
ecclesial ministry, and even the balance that should exist between and among
the deacon’s participation in the three-fold service of Word, Sacrament and
Charity.However, the pope has pointed
out perhaps the most fundamental balancing act for all of us in ministry: the
balance between prayerful contemplation and ministerial action.
“Prayer, nourished by faith and enlightened by God’s word,
enables us to see things in a new way and to respond to new situations with the
wisdom and insight bestowed by the Holy Spirit,” observed the pope.This form of “contemplative seeing” should be
at the heart of all Christians, especially those called and ordained to serve
others in the person of Christ and in the name of the Church.Peter directs the community to find seven
persons of good reputation who are filled with the Holy Spirit and wisdom.All three attributes are important.
“Good reputation” means that those selected already have
credibility within their own community prior to any subsequent responsibilities
they may assume.We frequently remind
seminarians and candidates for the diaconate that we are looking for people who
are already living lives of service; our vocations come from God, not something that
we choose or can be “trained” to be.“Good reputation” has a practical dimension as well: such people will be
more effective in the community because they have already established a
relationship of trust and responsibility within the community.“Wisdom” has long been associated with the
very nature and presence of God within our Tradition; so much more than simple
human knowledge, wisdom sees as God sees.Finally, it is only through the action of the Holy Spirit that anything
can be accomplished.It is particularly
noteworthy that Peter asks the community to identify candidates who already
have all three of these attributes!He
does not say that the candidates will “receive” these traits after ordination;
good reputation, the Holy Spirit and wisdom are all prerequisites for the ordination
that will come later.
Contemplation -- then, Action!
How are we doing on keeping this
balance in our own lives?Do we find the
time for prayer and contemplation, and then, do we find the opportunities to
take concrete action to serve the real needs of people?Pope Benedict observed that the Seven “cannot
just be organizers who know what they are doing, but they must do so in the
spirit of faith, with the light of God, in the wisdom of the heart and
therefore their function, although mainly practical, however, is a spiritual
function. Charity and justice are not only social actions, but they are
spiritual actions made in light of the Holy Spirit.”
The pope concludes his reflection with an insight that,
while applicable to all disciples, should certainly be inscribed on the hearts
of all the ordained: “In our own daily lives and decisions, may we always draw
fresh spiritual breath from the two lungs of prayer and the word of God; in
this way, we will respond to every challenge and situation with wisdom,
understanding and fidelity to God’s will.”
In a forthcoming column for a national magazine intended for Catholic priests, I discuss the participation of deacons (and in particular, those commonly referred to as "permanent" deacons) in politics, based on the provisions of canon (universal) and particular law. This question is made especially important given the growing presence of deacons and priests in the blogosphere and in other social media, such as Facebook and Twitter. So, I thought I would put the substance of what I wrote here as well.
As the political primary season continues,
nothing could be more current than a review of the rather unique situation of
the deacon in the political life of a nation, with a particular view of the
deacon in American politics.This seems
especially appropriate since increasingly deacons are joining millions of other
Americans in their use of social media and are blogging, tweeting, writing,
speaking and teaching at every conceivable level, and even venues formerly
considered more informal, such as Facebook, have become sources of public
discourse on the political process.It
is important to reflect on our own participation in such exchanges in light of
our responsibilities as clergy.It is
often not what we say, or don’t say, from the pulpit that can influence others,
but our casual “status update” on Facebook, a blog entry or even a tweet can
have far-reaching effects.
Canon 285
directs that “clerics are to refrain completely from all those things which are
unbecoming to their state, according to the prescripts of particular law.”The canon continues in §3: “Clerics are
forbidden to assume public offices which entail a participation in the exercise
of civil power,” and §4 forbids clerics from “secular offices which entail an
obligation of rendering accounts. . . .”Canon 287, §1 reminds all clerics that “most especially, [they] are
always to foster the peace and harmony based on justice which are to be
observed among people,” and §2 directs that “they are not to have an active
part in political parties and in governing labor unions unless, in the judgment
of competent ecclesiastical authority, the protection of the rights of the
Church or the promotion of the common good requires it.”
However,
c. 288 specifically relieves permanent deacons (transitional deacons would
still bound) of a number of the prior canons, including cc. 285 §§3 and 4, and
287 §2, “unless particular law establishes otherwise.”Particular law in this instance is provided
by the National Directory on the
Formation, Ministry and Life of Permanent Deacons in the United States,
which states at #91: “A permanent deacon may not present his name for election
to any public office or in any other general election, or accept a nomination
or an appointment to public office, without the prior written permission of the
diocesan bishop.A permanent deacon may
not actively and publicly participate in another’s political campaign without
the prior written permission of the diocesan bishop.”The diocesan bishop may also create
particular law within his own diocese on such matters.In one case, a diocesan bishop notified his
clergy that if anyone could even infer, through their speech, manner or
demeanor, which political party or candidate the cleric was supporting, then
that cleric had gone too far.While we
are each entitled to form our own political decisions for ourselves, we must
always be aware of the political lines we must not cross.
Let’s
put this all together.Deacons, although
clerics, may participate in political life to a degree not permitted other
clerics under the law.However, they are
required by particular law in the United States to obtain the prior written
permission of their diocesan bishop to do so.I find that two other aspects of this matter are too often
overlooked.First, is the requirement
under the law that all clerics (and, most significantly, permanent deacons are not relieved of this obligation) are
bound by c. 287 always “to foster peace and harmony based on justice.”This is such a critical point for reflection
for all clerics: How do my actions, words, and insinuations foster such peace
and harmony, or are my actions serving to sow discord and disharmony?Since permanent deacons may become more
engaged in the political sphere than presbyters (with the permission of their
bishop), this will take on particular relevance for deacons.Second is the whole area of participation in
political campaigns.Deacons may only
participate in their own or someone
else’s political campaign with the prior written permission of their
bishop.Today, when political support is
often reflected through the social media, all of us might well reflect on how
our opinions stated via these media constitute active participation in someone’s
political campaign.
All of
us, lay and cleric, are obliged to participate appropriately in the political
process.However, as clerics – and in a
particularly challenging way, deacons – we must walk a fine moral tightrope in
doing so.
As I reported in my last post, I have recently been to Rome for meetings at the Vatican. A new graduate studies institute is being created, with the formal approval of the Holy See, which will focus on all matters related to diakonia and the renewed diaconate in the Catholic Church. The Institute of St. Lawrence has been founded by three deacon-professors: Deacon Dr. Enzo Petrolino of Italy, Deacon Rob Mascini of the Netherlands, and myself.
The new Institute will be headquartered at the Lateran University in Rome, with courses being taught at several of the other so-called "Pontifical" universities as well, such as the Biblicum, the Angelicum, the Augustinianum (or Patristicum), and so on. The courses will all be taught for graduate credit, and are not designed for those in formation for ordination, unless those candidates already have significant theological background and are pursuing either a Master's or Doctorate. In short, any person who is eligible for graduate education in Theology is welcome. The goals of the Institute are quite simple: to provide an opportunity for advanced research on the diaconate, and to create an archive of such research to support future scholarship.
Students will be able to proceed in one of two ways. They may either take all of the courses offered over a three-year summer program and obtain a Master's degree in diaconal study from the Lateran, or they may take courses to be applied to an existing program at another accredited institution. For example, if one of our graduate students at Santa Clara University wishes to take a couple of the courses and apply those credits to their program here at Santa Clara, that will be perfectly fine. All of the Institute's courses are fully accredited.
Each course will consist of significant work (background reading, research) prior to coming to Rome for a one week intensive seminar; normally, there will be lectures in the mornings, with afternoons free for research, group study, and other activities related to the course. Then, after students leave Rome, they prepare a major research paper or project. We intend to offer three of these one-week sessions each summer for a three year cycle. So, if a student simply wants one of the three courses, that's fine; if they wish to do all three (!) then in theory they could stay for the whole three weeks.
The Institute will be launched in June 2013 when we begin our first courses. Once the dates and other course information is finalized in a month or so, I will be publishing the information extensively through the USCCB, Deacon Digest, and a variety of other sources.
This is an exciting project and I ask for your prayers for its success.
Oh, and while I was walking down the street one day in Rome, this white golf cart pulled up. . . .
