My Posture Paper!!!

 Alright, here it is, my paper on posture during the Liturgy of the Eucharist!  Now, I could have included a ton more information, but it was only supposed to be 5-6 pages - it is 6 pages long, and the footnotes (which are endnotes in my blog format) add 2 pages, so I feel like it works.  :)

Postures of the Assembly

Helping Maintain the Communal Nature of the Liturgy of the Eucharist

            Catholic.  The word itself means universal.  However, go into any Catholic parish in the United States, and you might not believe the Church is as universal as it thinks it is.  Different parishes, even within the same diocese, practice different rules for when to stand, sit, and kneel.  The most varieties in posture can be witnessed during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, a section of the Mass that truly sets us apart from other Christian congregations and should be emphasizing our oneness in the Lord.  Sometimes, individual believers assume their own postures, perhaps displaying their own piety but forgetting the importance that the liturgy we are partaking in is only possible because we are a community of believers.  As Catholics, we believe that “we, though many, are one body in Christ and individually parts of one another.”[1]  But to truly be one body, should we not assume the same postures in our liturgies, unifying us in more than just spirit but in action as well?  Posture is an important part in unifying us as one body and one spirit in Christ.[2]  Although the inward posture of the heart is the most important posture of the assembly, our outward postures during the Liturgy of the Eucharist should reflect and enhance our individual acceptance, humility, and reverence as well as the communal nature of the sacrament we are sharing as the Church.

            In order for us to worship and partake in a ritual, we must act as a community.  Ritual, at its very core, works within two things:  the culture of a community and the body of that community, both on a personal and a corporate level.[3]  In a Christian context, this body refers to both the community, who is the body of Christ present on the earth, and the individuals who make up this body of Christ.  What better way to act as one body and one community in our most highly regarded ritual, the Mass, than to physically change postures together?  Part of our problem in the United States’ dioceses is that our culture is very individualistic, which moves us completely in the opposite direction from how rituals work.[4]  The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy specifically states that “liturgical services are not private functions, but are celebrations of the Church, which is ‘the sacrament of unity,’ namely, the holy people united and ordered under their bishops.”[5]  Not only do communal postures help us act outwardly as a community, but they help to foster our inner understanding of the prayers we are offering together as one body in a way that worded prayers can never grasp.  According to Nathan D. Mitchell, “ritual’s aim is thus not to convey ‘meanings,’ but to produce a ‘ritually inscribed body’ with its own distinctive way of knowing.  […] This logic of ritual, this logic of the body […] affords us a way of knowing in which we seem to ‘know what we are doing’ and ‘why we are doing it,’ yet still do not know ‘what what we are doing does.’”[6]  Posture is an integral part of the worship experience, helping us physically embrace ideas that we cannot fully comprehend, and, as the Mass is a ritual, reminding us of the community of which we are a part and with whom we are celebrating.

            The physical postures we assume have the potential to enhance the Mass, especially the Liturgy of the Eucharist, but we have to know what the postures mean in order for them to be of any significance.  In the time of the early Church, standing was the normal posture for Christian prayer:  it was the posture that set us apart from the rest of God’s creation, as we are the creatures who walk on two legs.[7]  According to Genesis, we were given “dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and all the living things that move on the earth.”[8]  It was also in this posture that we, as humanity, fell out of union with God.  As the most human posture, standing was the pose people assumed to give praise to God, a concept that only humans can understand and desire to partake in.[9]  Originally, it was the posture most commonly taken for any type of prayer, whether communal or private, as it was also associated with the resurrection, therefore being linked with Sundays and the Easter season.[10]  It is still a posture of respect and praise in our culture, as we stand when people of high esteem walk into a room or when we are pleased with a performance and give a standing ovation, but it has lost some of its original weight of giving praise up to the heavens.[11]

            Sitting signified an important person.  Royalty sat in chairs, with their people gathered around standing to listen to them or groveling at their feet and kneeling or prostrating themselves.  Even today, the bishop often sits to say certain things at his Masses.  At one point, the assembly sitting was “an act of receptivity, listening and partaking in a common meal.”[12]  In recent times in our culture, though, sitting has become a very stagnant posture.  It is easy to fall into the idea that we are just an audience watching a performance, rather than an assembly of believers who are actively partaking in the liturgy, when we are in this position.  It is, however, an important posture that could remind us that we, as one Church, are “a royal priesthood, a holy nation”[13] if we remind ourselves of its dignified and receptive meaning.

            Kneeling has changed over time as well.  It developed from prostration, with kneeling being an adaptation of prostration.  It is associated with the idea of “falling to one’s knees and bowing […] to worship/reverence/adore,”[14] and eventually came to be a posture of penitence, adoration, and supplication in the Christian community.[15]  As the lowest posture we can assume and still be able to look at something going on in front of us, it is a very humble pose to take, removing us from our role as being above creation and reminding us of the fact that we, too, are creations of God.  Traditionally, it is thought of as an individual prayer posture, one that focuses solely on the individual’s prayers and not on the prayers being offered up by the entire community.[16]  However, when the assembly does it together and is actually looking towards something other than their hands, it has the potential to emphasize that we are a community of sinners who are all asking for God’s assistance as we adore Him together.

            As a culture that is always developing, the meanings we associate with postures change as well, and the associations we have with them may be different than in other parts of the world.  The Church does recognize this and allows for some inculturation in the liturgy, even with postures.[17]  For example, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops chose to have their parishes kneel as the norm during the Eucharistic Prayer instead of stand like many other countries do because they feel it reflects the piety of American Catholics, and the Apostolic See understands this.[18]  However, the United States also has the problem of taking the idea of adaptation to extremes and forgetting that “there must be no innovations unless the good of the Church genuinely and certainly requires them,”[19] with adjacent dioceses and even neighboring parishes assuming different postures.[20]  It is difficult to embody the idea of us being one body of Christ, one united Church, when people in the same culture cannot pick a posture to be united in.  Therefore, we need to look more closely at the Liturgy of the Eucharist, focusing on what we are praying and deciding how we can best embody that physically.

            The Eucharistic Prayer is, at least in many respects, the center of the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  It is a prayer filled with praise, invocation, penitence, and reverence, and in its midst lies the words of institution, the words that give us the gift of the body of Christ by consecration.  What posture could possibly reflect all of those human emotions?  I would argue that none completely fulfill them, but we can assume a posture together that helps us focus on these words and gives God, through the ritual, His due respect and admiration.  Standing and kneeling are the two postures that seem to be most appropriate here.  Standing is a posture of praise, a posture of a servant waiting to be called upon by his master, and is often thought of as a posture that helps the assembly actively partake in the sacrificial meal we are celebrating.[21]  The Eucharistic Prayer itself speaks of standing in the presence of the Lord; however, it does this in a way that does not necessarily mean we must be standing at that moment.[22]  Kneeling is seen as an act of adoration, and in the real presence of the Lord, what better posture to assume than one of complete surrender?[23]  As long as the assembly is looking up, singing along with the Memorial Acclamation and Amen and realizing that, as one body, we are offering ourselves as well as the bread and wine up to fully become the body of Christ, kneeling can be just as appropriate and active a posture for this Prayer as standing.  Assuming multiple postures during this part of the Mass, as suggested by some and as some cultures do, does not seem to be the best solution for our culture in the United States.[24]  This separates the one prayer into many different sections, when it is the summary and summit of the body of Christ concept.  It not only gets our minds farther from the idea of unity which the prayer is emphasizing, but it makes it harder for the individual members to focus on what is happening and what they are doing.[25]  We need to focus on our unity as the Church through the gift of Christ’s body as we pray the Eucharistic Prayer together, not on which parts of it are more worthy of our adoration and humility than others.

            The question of standing or kneeling also comes up after the Agnus Dei, when the priest declares that the feast before us is the Lamb of God, reinforcing the concept of it being a sacrifice, and the assembly responds with the words “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.”[26]  These are penitential words, which make us think of kneeling as the correct posture.  Standing might also be an appropriate posture, though.[27]  It is a posture that can reflect penitence as well as praise, which fits with the priest and assembly’s admitted unworthiness but happiness at still being one of the chosen people in light of this unworthiness.[28]  It is also a posture that is practical, as the assembly needs to be able to move in order to receive communion right after this short, though significant, part of the Mass.  Kneeling accurately embodies what we are praying together, but standing might help us more fully understand that all of humanity is unworthy of this supper, not only the individual members who are present and proclaiming it.

            One of the most dramatic posture changes after Vatican II was the switch from the norm of kneeling to that of standing while receiving communion.  This helps “to highlight more clearly the ‘communitarian’ nature of the procession to receive Communion,” along with our singing.[29]  Though no one is to be denied the Eucharist as long as they receive in a reverent posture,[30] the idea of us being one body of Christ, receiving as one and not as individuals, is easily overlooked when we all assume different postures.  If we, as the Church, are the bride of Christ, then we need to act as one body as we process forward and accept the one who will complete us, uniting us all as one body in Christ.  We are all unworthy, but we are all expressing our joy at being welcomed into this heavenly wedding banquet, realizing who we truly are as God’s beloved creations.[31]  The Eucharist needs to be revered and adored, but we do not need to be kneeling during our physical reception of the sacrament in order to accomplish that.  If we assume different postures when we receive communion, not only are we interrupting the flow of the procession, but we are forgetting that communion is a communal act in its very definition.

            An overlooked part of the Liturgy of the Eucharist is the time after we, as a community, receive the Eucharist, when we observe a period of silence or song of praise.[32]  What posture should we assume?  Does it have to be communal the way the rest of the Liturgy of the Eucharist postures should be?  The assembly is told to sit or kneel, having a choice between the two.[33]  In this time after communally receiving communion, this time of reflection is given so that the people can “praise and pray to God in their hearts.”[34]  We all offered up the body of Christ as one and received the body of Christ as one, but the Church recognizes that its members are all slightly different, having varying spiritual paths and needs.  This is a time to personally reflect on the gift of the Eucharist we have each accepted and on God’s overwhelming grace, and as such, the assembly is encouraged to assume a posture that allows them to enter into that conversation with God most easily.[35]  Even though it is a time of prayer that can be different for every member, the community of believers is still praying together as it embraces the differences in its parts.

            The entire Mass is important to the Catholic faith, and the Liturgy of the Eucharist is a major part that contributes to the Church’s unity.  However, when we forget the importance of the posture of the assembly during the Eucharistic Prayer, the reception of the Eucharist, and the reflection time after communion, we can also forget how important it is that we are communally doing all of these ritual actions.  By assuming the same postures, or by assuming different ones during the time that is purposefully not as formally structured as the rest of the Liturgy of the Eucharist, we are reinforcing the idea that we, as many parts, have accepted our role as part of the eschatological community, the community that has become the body of Christ.  Without shared postures, it is easy for the individual believer to think only of their individual acceptance of the grace of God and forget that the whole community is the recipient of His salvation.  We are only able to partake in this meal because we are a community, and without shared postures, the communal aspect of communion is lost.

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[1] Romans 12:5.  All Biblical references will be from the New American Bible.

[2] In the section "The Structure of the Mass, Its Elements and Its Parts," the General Instruction of the Roman Missal

(GIRM) says that “a common posture, to be observed by all participants, is a sign of the unity of the members of the Christian community gathered for the Sacred Liturgy: it both expresses and fosters the intention and spiritual attitude of the participants.”  It is a commonly cited statement whenever the topic of posture in liturgy arises, as it is the starting place of this debate over the assembly’s physical posture.  General Instruction of the Roman Missal.  (Washington,  D.C.: United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2003).

[3] Nathan D. Mitchell, “The Amen Corner,” Worship 79 (2005) 168.

[4] In his book Eucharist and American Culture:  Liturgy, Unity, and Individualism, Dennis C. Smolarski, SJ, fully recognizes this modern issue in our culture.  In his chapter on worship, he expands upon the idea of communal worship versus individual prayer.  He also has some interesting insights into the falling number of people attending church and other communal activities and the rising number of “lonely” people in our country, saying on page 26, “if individuals who experience loneliness also regularly attend liturgical celebrations, which should foster community among those assembled, one can rightly wonder about the success of such celebrations in achieving the Lord’s wishes.”  Eucharist and American Culture (New York:  Paulist Press, 2010)

[5] Vatican II, Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum Concilium), no. 26.  SC also goes on to state that whenever the rites “make provision for communal celebration involving the presence and active participation of the faithful, this way of celebrating them is to be preferred, so far as possible, to a celebration that is individual and quasi-private” (no. 27), which supports the argument for communal posture that much more.

[6] Nathan D. Mitchell, “The Amen Corner,” Worship 79 (2005) 170, italics and quotes are his.

[7] John K. Leonard and Nathan D. Mitchell, The Postures of the Assembly During the Eucharistic Prayer (Chicago:  Liturgy Training Publications, 1994) 21-22.

[8] Genesis 1:28.

[9] The Postures of the Assembly 22.

[10] The Postures of the Assembly 23-24.

[11] This is definitely a contestable point, but in our culture, it is not an everyday idea to pray standing up.  Most people are taught as small children to pray kneeling, if they are taught any specific posture at all.  The normal person does not stand and think vertically; instead, they look straight ahead, horizontally, waiting to see what someone is doing in front of them.  It is such a common posture (which is part of its beauty, as we should be praising God in all of our actions, not just during formal prayers and liturgies), it might be hard to bring it back to its original Christian conception.  We have to decide if it is a challenge we, as ministers, are ready and willing to undertake.

[12] John F Baldovin’s Introduction to The Postures of the Assembly, page 3.

[13] 1 Peter 2:9.

[14] The Postures of the Assembly 28.

[15] Kneeling associated with these intentions can be seen throughout the Bible.  Solomon knelt in supplication in 1 Kings 8:54.  In Philippians 2:10, all of creation is to bow in adoration at the name of Jesus.  And Mark 1:40 speaks of a leper coming to Jesus, asking to be cured.

[16] Frank C. Quinn is an advocate of kneeling always equaling individual piety and devotion, believing it to be a posture that is incapable of being appropriate for the assembly during a liturgy, as he makes clear in his article “Posture and Prayer.”  Worship 72 (1998) 67-78.

[17] SC, no. 37.

[18] Everyone who writes on posture, especially those who are proponents of standing, like to emphasize how different the United States is in comparison to other countries because of this fact.  Frank C. Quinn refers to it multiple times throughout “Posture and Prayer” (especially page 77), and it is brought up is The Postures of the Assembly as well.

[19] SC, no. 23.

[20] This is directly against the end of SC, no. 23. which continues on to say that “as far as possible, notable differences between the rites used in adjacent regions must be carefully avoided.  Something for people in the United States to remember is the statement before, no. 22, which says  “no other person, even if he be a priest, may add, remove, or change anything in the liturgy on his own authority.”  This includes posture!

[21] The Postures of the Assembly, esp. p. 63-66

[22] In Eucharistic Prayer II, for example, it says “we thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you.”  Though it is a prayer of praise and thanksgiving, which lends itself to standing, it is also referring to the idea that we are unworthy but are still given the opportunity to be with God, both physically and spiritually, which could make another posture (like kneeling) be appropriate.

[23] Joel Giallanza, “A Profound Bow of the Body and Spirit:  The Eucharist, A Gift to Be Adored” Emmanuel 111 (2005) 388-397.

[24] Frank C. Quinn suggests the use of multiple postures, with standing during the words of praise after the Sanctus until the institutional words, when he would like the congregation to kneel.  Though I understand his argument, he also says that kneeling focuses too much on individual devotion.  If these are the words that Christ said, uniting us as one body in Him, kneeling (according to him) seems to convey the exact opposite meaning.  “Posture and Prayer,” p. 76.

[25] In a word, it is distracting!  It is distracting at the point of the liturgy at which we should try to be least distracted!

[26] Quote is taken from Today’s Missal Vol. 77 No. 4 (2010) 105.

[27] In fact, “the faithful kneel after the Agnus Dei unless the Diocesan Bishop determines otherwise.” GIRM, no. 43.

[28] In the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, the tax collector “stood off at a distance […] and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’” Luke 18:13.

[29] GIRM, no. 86.

[30] As the GIRM says, “the norm for reception of Holy Communion in the dioceses of the United States is standing. Communicants should not be denied Holy Communion because they kneel. Rather, such instances should be addressed pastorally, by providing the faithful with proper catechesis on the reasons for this norm,” no. 160.

[31] Dennis C. Smolarski refers to this idea of the heavenly happiness that is found at the “marriage supper of the Lamb,” to which the book of Revelation refers.  Eucharist and American Culture, p. 12.

[32] I am referring to after everyone has received the Eucharist, the tabernacle is closed, and the priest sits back down.  The argument for how long we should remain standing takes us off on a tangent that is not the purpose of this paper – though whatever we do as an assembly, we should do it in the same manner to maintain the communal focus and to avoid individualism.

[33] Today’s Missal instructs the assembly to “sit (or kneel),” p. 109.

[34] GIRM, no. 45.

[35] Standing might also be an option to consider, as some believers may feel most comfortable praying and praising in that posture.  However, it might be taking the personal thanksgiving aspect of this time a bit too far.

Love, Pray, Eat - a slightly different take

First off, this is 100% not a movie review - don't worry, my blog is staying true to the random theological thoughts I have!

In the movie Eat, Pray, Love (and I'm sure in the book version, too), the main character finally starts to relax and find herself once she forgives herself for her divorce.  As she's meditating in India, she makes the statement:

God dwells in me - as me.

I can agree with this - God does not pick and choose who He dwells in, as He created all and made humanity in His image and likeness.  Though we, as Catholics, believe in His true presence in the Eucharist, and therefore believe that we consume the Body of Christ, becoming more fully the Body of Christ as we share our lives, God was, of course, already in us before that physical consumption.  How could you say "God is in everyone" if God was not in you, or in me, as well?

But the thing is, I don't think this statement is complete.  To be fully human, to be truly ourselves, to be fully me, we have to look to God.  Yes, God dwells in us just the way we are - He meets us where we are at every moment - but He constantly wants to walk with us to a place even greater.  There is no limit.  We have to be able to accept ourselves as ourselves right now, but that doesn't mean we just stop.  Accept yourself, find peace, and then grow in that peace!  In the words of Augustine, we have to find rest in God - otherwise, we will always be restless.  We can't be complete until we have found our true selves, our true lives, within God.  Therefore, I would add a second part to this statement:

God dwells in me - as me.

But I am not really me until I fully dwell in God.

God accepts us for who we are, and we need to accept ourselves, too.  But to do that, we have to look to God - otherwise, we'll always be missing a part of ourselves and will always be restless.

Posture - a Great Paper Topic?!

So, I haven't written anything lately because (a) I've been lazy and (b) I've been researching for my Christian Liturgy term paper.  It won't be complete until near the end of the quarter, even though it's only supposed to be up to 6 pages long (which is hard, b/c it has to be super focused), but here's the current thesis statement:

            Although the inward posture of the heart is the most important posture of the assembly, our outward postures during the Liturgy of the Eucharist should reflect and enhance our individual acceptance, humility, and reverence as well as the communal nature of the sacrament we are sharing as the Church.

Yes, I'm doing a paper on posture during the Liturgy of the Eucharist - it's such a big topic in my life, with Fireside having different postures for 3 of my 4 years there (which I think definitely had great benefits, though I do better understand why a change was made now), and different Dioceses being able to pick standing or kneeling after the Lamb of God, and some Churches standing together until everyone receives communion, and some Churches kneeling every second they can, and how it's super awkward when you're not at your normal parish and a ton of the postures are different, making you think more about the postures than what's actually going on, ...  The list goes on and on, and I wanted to know what we are ALL supposed to do regardless of situation or culture and what can change, and for that matter, why one would want to have a posture that's different from the majority of the world Church - when does it take away from that recognition that the Church is more than your parish?  Does taking a different individual posture separate you from that feeling of communion being a communal act?  But there is individual want and acceptance of universal salvation, so how does that come into play?  Does it in a communal sacrifice and celebration?  Anyway, that's what my paper is going to be about, so stay tuned - I will totally use it as a post eventually. :)

More than Some Plant Oil

Well, I don't know about you, but there are few things I really remember being taught about when it comes to the Sacrament of Anointing the Sick.  It's not one of the Sacraments of Initiation, it doesn't happen all that often, and it used to be called extreme unction, which is really an entirely different thing.  Plus, I was taught that it included reconciliation and Eucharist, so really it was just adding on to 2 other sacraments. Basically, it was a sacrament that was confused with itself, not having a fully separate identity in my head.  Sure, really sick people could use it, but they're "saved" anyways, and if we're true believers and give everything up to God, including this person's future of getting better or going to their heavenly home, it's not like the sacrament really affected anything.  It was a good idea, but no biggie.  Boy, was I wrong!  I mean, sure, most of my preconceptions were based in truth, but I was totally forgetting why sacraments are Sacraments - they are (outward) signs that convey God's grace, a spiritual (inward) grace.  Anointing of the Sick is a beautiful sacrament, full of encouraging words for the community (including the sick person, their family and friends, and the whole communion of believers) and calls to the Spirit.  It's filled with physical touch, too, with laying of the hands (which is found in all 7 sacraments), oil, and even sometimes a sprinkling rite.  Sure, it's encouraged to be celebrated within Mass, and Reconciliation is encouraged before the Mass, but it is a beautiful sacrament all on its own.  However, I did have some questions, confusions, and clarifications that arose over my course of reading the Pastoral Care of the Sick in The Rites, Volume One:

First of all, the idea of anointing, communion, and confession I think seems to come from "Continuous Rite of Penance, Anointing, and Viaticum," Viaticum being (most likely) the last communion of a person's life - it's filled with beautiful words of comfort, strength, and peace.  However, the 3 do not have to be one thing.  Normally (aka not in extreme cases), a sick person would have Reconciliation just like anyone else would, and then they would be anointed - the 2 sacraments would be 2 separate rites.  Here, however, it's combined into one.  My guess is this is really more like the old extreme unction.  Nowadays, it is not encouraged to wait to be anointed until you're on your death bed - serious illness or injury does not mean there's no hope for recovery.  And if the sickness worsens, it's encouraged to have another anointing.  Don't limit how many outward signs of grace you receive too much!  This doesn't mean you should be anointed for little things like colds or something, but anything that is really affecting both bodily and spiritual help is probably an acceptable thing to be anointed for.

Viaticum started to sound almost like an entirely different sacrament to me as I was reading.  I mean, it says, "the sacrament of anointing of the sick should be celebrated at the beginning of serious illness.  Viaticum, celebrated when death is close, will then be better understood as the last sacrament of Christian life."  The thing is, though, that Viaticum is the Eucharist - it has a special liturgy that goes with it, whether or not it's within a Mass, but it is the sacrament of the Eucharist - it's not it's own thing like anointing is.  And yes, you can have communion again after receiving Viaticum - there's a whole section on the Commendation of the Dying, which says the dying should be given communion very often, and you can't pinpoint when death will occur, so it's good to keep having the food that will help for "the passage through death to eternal life."

Now, I also got confused on why anointing of the dying is not emphasized at all - there's no rite for that.  Don't the dying need the Holy Spirit just as much as the sick?  Well, it's a bit different.  They want the dying to already have been anointed (though there are provisions for extreme and special cases) when they were sick.  There are "two complimentary aspects of this sacrament:  through the sacrament of anointing the Church supports the sick in their struggle against illness and continues Christ's messianic work of healing.  All who are united in the bond of a common baptism and a common faith are joined together in the body of Christ since what happens to one member affects all."  The hope for healing is important with anointing.  The dying have a very different focus, that on going to the eternal banquet in Heaven.  Plus, anointing is based on James 5:13-15, which is focused on the sick.  There is a different ministry to be served in the 2 cases - they cannot be treated the same way.

Now, the thing I struggled most with was the following idea:  "We should always be prepared to fill up what is lacking in Christ's sufferings for the salvation of the world as we look forward to creation's being set free in teh glory of the children of God."  My reaction was what's lacking?  How could anything be lacking?  But then I thought about how we are Christ's hands and feet on this world and how, in order to be saved, we can't just store up all the grace He's poured out on us inside ourselves, but we have to pour it out onto the world (a more eloquent way of saying faith and works - also a reference to James).  We all have a role, a call to be witnesses to Christ, through the times when it's easy to praise Him and the times we suffer but still need to give it up for God.  In order for others to be strengthened in their faith, or potentially even find their faith in salvation, we have to really embrace our role as the body of Christ.  We aren't just the body of Christ at Church - if we are to be in full communion, we're always the body of Christ.  Sure, Christ Himself suffered for all, which was totally enough, but it's not helpful if we don't fully believe it and therefore witness to it.  The sick have a role in this just like anyone else - "the role of the sick in the Church is to be a reminder to others of the essential or higher things.  By their witness the sick show that our mortal life must be redeemed through the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection."  Of course!  It all goes back to the paschal mystery.  Our faith really is beautiful - but we have to live it out, no matter what point we're at, healthy or sick.

*all quotes taken from The Rites, Volume One in the Pastoral Care of the Sick part

Facing East - not just an Islamic Tradtition

OK, so everyone(ish) knows that,when Muslims pray, they face east, towards Mecca.  Technically, they don't face "east," though - in America, they face northeast, and in other places they face whatever direction that makes the shortest distance to Mecca.  Now, this isn't going to be 100% theologically correct on the Muslim side (I apologize - it's been 4 years since I took Western Religion and even then, we only learned so much about each tradition), but from what I can gather, they pray in that direction because they're facing the "House of God," or the Kaaba.  Now, did YOU know that, prior to Vatican 2, the Church really emphasized facing east, too?  Think about it - that's where our holy city is (Jerusalem), too.  The church building itself would face east, with the altar and tabernacle on the eastern wall.  Part of the reason why it was such a big deal originally for the priest to face east was because he, though leading the people, was first and foremost worshiping.  This isn't to say that's not what he's doing now, but the direction thing was super important then - they didn't think about God being "up" or "everywhere" the same way we often do now.  Plus, before tabernacles were always at the front of the church behind the altar, the crucifix that the altar server carried up was placed directly behind the altar (or near it if it was pushed against the wall, to be practical) - the sun rises in the east, and the belief went with the Son rising in the east.  Neat, right?  Wouldn't you want to be facing the Son when He rises?  Of course!

Something interesting to note is that Pope Benedict was a really big supporter of everyone facing east.  However, now he fully supports the idea of the "liturgical east" - basically, churches are getting reoriented, but by putting a crucifix on the altar (a little one at the very edge, closer to the congregation than the priest), everyone is rightly oriented to where the Son will rise, or the "liturgical east."  I personally think this is a very clever way to get around the problem.  On first hearing the the Pope liked everyone facing east, I was a bit concerned, because I think, at least in this day and age, it makes more sense to have the priest face us.  The Mass is just watched/witnessed by the people anymore - we actively participate in it - so having the priest face away from us towards a wall doesn't seem to be the best idea anymore.  But I love the symbolism of facing east, ready to witness His second coming - how cool is that?  Even though it's a bit silly to have a "liturgical east," I like that it emphasizes the tradition without creating a crazy uproar.  Basically, our Church is awesome - I love learning about all these symbolic things the Church fathers have put into the liturgy.  It just makes it mean so much more!


*Did you know?  We are buried to this day with our feet facing east - traditionally, it was so that when Christ came back, we'd be able to pop right up and head over to the holy land!  hahaha

* Also, remember that Islam developed after Christianity - so if the idea of facing east rubbed off from one to the other, it might have been Christianity tradition onto Islamic tradition!

Food for Thought: the new Roman Missal

A specific thought on the new Roman Missal (USA translation) for you all:

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A lot of people (aka a bunch of my friends) don't understand why the memorial acclamation

"Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again"

is not included in the new missal.  I didn't fully understand why either, until tonight.  The reason why that particular acclamation is not being included is because it does not fit with the rest of the Eucharistic prayers - all of the other ones are directed to God the Father.  It doesn't make sense to all of a sudden say something that is not directed to Him but instead is just kind of said as a reminder to ourselves, not directed to anyone in particular.  In that same line of reasoning, the acclamation

"Dying, you destroyed our death
Rising, you restored our life.
Lord Jesus, come in glory."

is not being used either, since it directs itself to God the Son.  Since we are offering God's gift of Jesus back up to Him, it does not make sense to address the one we are currently offering, right?
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It's interesting how the theology in the Mass is slightly different with a lot of the new translation - but it really does make more sense if you look at it.  It's going to be frustrating, and some of the phrases do not roll off the tongue very easily, but overall, I can see how it's going to be beneficial.  We shouldn't grumble* about having to learn something new just because we're used to the current one - we should invite the experience!  Right now, the language is so common - if it's for God, shouldn't it be more poetic, higher, or at the very least make us think about what we're saying instead of repeating things like robots or parrots?

* I know I will grumble about music things on here as I learn more about them - But it's all for God and being a truly universal Church, so it'll be for the best (I hope).  :)

3+4=7 Sacraments!

I'm sure you're thinking, well duh, 3+4=7.  But did you know that's how we got precisely 7 sacraments?  Yup!  Here's the abbreviated history of how this happened (as told to my class by Lizette, my Christian Lit professor).  This guy, Peter Lombard (author of the Book of Sentences, which are 4 theology textbooks used at the Vatican, written in the 12th ce.), was trying to figure out how to teach his students about sacraments in an orderly manner, and he wanted them to actually be able to call specific things "sacraments" (the term was thrown around a lot more before his time - anything that was "sacramental," aka anything that is a sacred sign that both signifies and causes grace, was referred to as a sacrament - the word was being used for almost everything, since tons of things can be pointed back to what we now know to be THE sacraments).  Now, Lombard really liked the number 7, and he really wanted to be able to make it work.  You see, 3 is the number of the divine (trinity), and 4 is the number of nature (1 more than 3, the divine is part of it and had to come immediately before it to make it possible).  These 2 numbers, which describe God and us (we are part of nature) are the 2 things needed for sacraments to take place - God's grace comes to us through the sacraments (in a different and more direct way than any other time we encounter His grace).  Therefore, the number 7 is the perfect number of sacraments.  Now, there's nothing wrong with this, but it is undeniably kind of silly.  But why not?  God can and does work in mysterious ways - he can inspire the silly and the serious.

Now, Lombard had to actually figure out what 7 liturgical events/actions/happenings would make up these 7 sacraments.  Obviously, the 3 initiation events (Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist) were going to be part of them - they are how we are fully part of the communion of believers.  And then Confession was necessary to be able to partake of the Eucharist, so that needed to be there.  And sure, Last Rites (now Anointing of the Sick) were important for the idea of life everlasting, so those should be part.  Holy Orders could be one - if the priest is supposed to remind us of Jesus, that makes sense.  And them... hmmm...  well, Marriage is important(ish) - it's only between the 2 people, but God is love and there need to be witnesses and Jesus gave us the Church, His Bride, and the Holy Spirit unites the 2 into 1, so why not (see how much that one has to be justified?  theologians are ridiculous).  We couldn't have only 6 sacraments, since that number falls one short of 7 - that's just no good, that's like saying, if 3 is God's number, that there are 2 Gods.  And no, funerals just did not make the cut - the person was already dead, if they didn't get Last Rites, well, too bad for their soul, grace can't directly come to it if it's not here, and the number is 7, not 8 - this isn't paradise!

Now, of course, this is making light of how it happened - but it is true that that's the order he picked them in, and funerals were considered but did not make as much sense with the other 7 with the idea of a sacrament being a sign that both signifies and causes grace.  Though I do think that these 7 are the most important, most significant liturgical events they could have chosen, and God can inspire in odd ways, I also think Lombard is ridiculous, basing his foundational reasoning of 7 sacraments purely on the fact that the number 7 was a good number - numerology is stupid, but it does seem to have gotten us somewhere at a different point in history, so okay.  This is why Alley and I coined the term for this ridiculously silly divine inspiration as "inspired retardedness."  hahaha

Jesus is Emmanuel , "God with Us"

In the academic/theological setting, I truly find the idea of Jesus being God (yes, the Son of God, but as part of the Trinity, He is truly God) to be super challenging.  Personally, I know it's true whenever I think about the Eucharist - He's REALLY present there, in a different way than He is present in other aspects of life.  Definitely not something I can explain well tonight - all I know is that, when I see the Eucharist, my heart opens up, and I know I'm gazing at Jesus, who is gazing back at me.  The only way it's really Jesus there is because He's God.  Period.  However, my mind has been thinking more lately and wants an explanation that I can express in words and not just feelings.  Jesus never said that He was God - He said He was "the way, the truth, and the life," but He never outright says "I am God."  And how can He be fully human and fully God?  Did He know from the moment that He was born that He was God?  Now, I've had quite a few thoughts on the human-and-God question, but here are a couple that I thought were cool enough to write about:

In  Jesus the Christ, Walter Kasper says, "The Son is the person who submits himself unreservedly in obedience to God.  Thus he is wholly and entirely transparent for God; his obedience is the form in which God is substantially present.  Obedience effected and brought about by God himself is the historical mode of existence and manifestation of the divine Sonship.  In his obedience Jesus is the setting forth of God's nature."  This totally makes sense to me.  Of course!  How is Jesus the Son of God, therefore being God?  This is a great way to start thinking about it.  (Sidenote - this is totally an extra book for my Mystery of JC class.  I am officially a nerd. lol.)

I also thought of Mary.  If you want to get to really know a person, you look to their parents, and especially their mom, right?  It tends to explain a lot!  The angel of the Lord told Mary told her she was to conceive the Son of God.  The angel also reminds her that nothing is impossible for God - so why can't Jesus be fully, authentically human and fully, authentically God?  God can do anything!  And Mary was the one who was upbringing Jesus - she was told who He was, how His kingdom would have no end - so she would be able to steer her son, as a human, toward His ministry and everything (think Wedding at Cana).  And she was told to name Him Emmanuel, which means "God with us."  How much clearer could the angel get?  Jesus was humble, and He didn't want to be persecuted by the authorities before it was the right time, so He didn't go boasting about His mission - then God wouldn't have been able to work through Him.

And God is alive in us, right?  We don't always let Him work through us, but when we do, awesome things happen.  Jesus was different - He ALWAYS let God work through Him.  We are freer the closer we get to God, more authentically human since He made us as His creatures with free will.  Jesus was the most free, most authentic human because He was as close as possible to God - He was God.  (A lot of people could ask why Mary isn't God.  Sure, she was sinless and let God work through her, but she is not the one that achieved our salvation.  Remember the Old Testament teachings & prophesies and the Paschal Mystery, which then leads you back to the Eucharist.  Plus, Jesus was "begotten, not made" - Mary was made a creation like we were, even though she had no original sin.)

Also, the Nicene Creed totally defines how Jesus is God (and human, for that matter).  His Father is God, His mother is Mary/human, so He is both divine and human.  No one else has that combination of parents!

There's also this thing called faith... the mind will never be totally satisfied with the answer, it's truly a mystery.  Jesus lived up to His name 100% of the time - God was, and is, with us through belief in Him.  Absolutely amazing.

I'm not the only one!

My friend Alley also has entirely too much to think about after her class (luckily, I am not taking Fundamental Theology, which makes you read Tillich - at least not yet!).  See her post on Love and Faith and my comment on it!

About Eastern Catholics

OK, so I don't actually have all that much literature behind this one (don't worry, I'm sure most of them will), but they came up in my Christian Liturgy class today when we were talking about the changes Sacrosanctum Concilium brought about (and since it's the 1st document from Vatican II, it obviously just led into the rest of Vatican II, which is obviously many years of material, not just 1 class).  Basically, Vatican II only affected the Roman Rite - aka, Roman Catholics, what I assume the majority of the people inclined to read my blog are.  But I've never really thought much about these Eastern Catholics - you know, the Mozarabic Rite (in Spain), the Byzantine Rite, etc.  They are super confusing to me.  They aren't Eastern Orthodox - they are in full communion with the Pope (the Bishop of Rome), recognizing His infallibility and such - they don't follow the Archbishop of Constantinople of anything like that.  BUT did you know that, since they aren't Roman Rite, Vatican II doesn't apply to them?  It's something I had never thought about.  How can they think so much of Rome but not be Roman?  How can they have such different theologies and terminologies from us Roman Catholics, but still be in full communion with the Catholic Church?  They can receive the Eucharist from us, we can receive it from them, but we're held to different standards?  How can they be so independent with it being okay to the Roman Church - how are they really Catholic?  It's so weird to me!

Take, for example, the way they perform the Sacraments of Initiation (o the sacraments - something that might just be the topic of my next blog/rant).  They do them the way the earliest Christians did - Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist - in that order, mind you.  First you were bathed in water, than anointed with chrysm, and THEN you could receive your 1st Communion.  And the Eastern Catholics (and yes, I might well be generalizing here, so forgive me) do this with INFANTS.  What?  Sure, we baptize infants, with our parents and God-parents speaking for us, but that's just not the same as receiving the Eucharist, right?  They can't even say "Amen" and actually proclaim that the Body/Blood of Christ is true - their parents say it for them on their behalf!  It just has some more implications than baptism does... at least it sure seems to on the surface (not that sacraments are to be taken on their surface level, but still).  Now, Roman Catholics did it in this order (though not at that age - we like people to be super aware of what's happening to them - we would push back 1st Communion until people were in their 20s a lot in the late 1800s) before Pope Pius X.  The laity wasn't receiving the Eucharist more than once a year at Easter, and he knew it was an important part of their participation, so he said people should receive once they hit the age of reason (aka, about 7 years old), when they can discern between the literal and the abstract - so our order of initiation sacraments was then changed to what it is now.  It just seems weird to me that this was so important for the Roman Catholics and not for all the other Catholics...

...And then what about Confirmation?  Why do we leave it until last now?  Does that make sense?  Though does it make more sense in the Eastern tradition, where babies are confirmed?  In the US, we can't decide whether it makes more sense for kids to make Confirmation in 8th, 9th, 10th, or 11th grade - but all of those are significantly different from an infant.  What makes sense?  Won't God's grace be there no matter when we do it?  Why is it okay for Eastern Christians to be so different from us, but yet be in full communion with the Roman Church?  What in the world?

Welcome to my confusion!

A blog!

So, though I have always said "no" to writing blogs, here I am - a grad student with lots on her plate starting a new activity.  Why, you ask?  Because graduate school in pastoral ministry is confusing!  Everything you had thought made sense no longer does - once you start to know the history of how the Church decided on different things, it takes a lot of thought to wrap your head around it, and you still won't be able to completely understand.  Every day, I realize more and more how much of a mystery God is, something I used to not truly realize or appreciate.  Instead of scribbling down notes in random places about the concepts that boggle my brain, I've decided (with the encouragement of a dear friend of mine) to organize them, and all in a public place where I can confuse others!  hehehe.  I hope you enjoy my reflections, and feel free to give me your opinions on whatever I bring to the table...

...Also, I decided on the books background, at least for the time being, because they (well, the ones on theology, liturgy, and history of Christianity)  are the source of my confusion!  But with enough reflection, that confusion always leads to complete and utter awe at our Creator - it takes a pure genius to come up with creatures crazy like us!