CONSTITUTION
ON THE SACRED LITURGY SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM SOLEMNLY PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS POPE PAUL VI ON DECEMBER 4, 1963 72. The rite and formulas for the sacrament of penance are to be revised so that they more clearly express both the nature and effect of the sacrament. When you consider how little working time the Vatican II bishops had at the Council—October through December in the years 1962, 1963, 1964, and 1965—it is a wonder that so much was achieved. Unfortunately, many Church matters were of necessity treated in the most generic ways due to language limitations, time restraints, and some intentional bureaucratic obfuscating; the collective wisdom of the Council fathers and the Pope and Curia at the time held that much study, experimentation, and ultimately authorization would follow the Council after its final session in 1965. Penance, strangely, is the Vatican II orphan, at least in terms of floor discussion. Aside from the text of para. 72 of Sacrosanctum Concilium above, there is remarkably little discussion of the Sacrament of Penance in Vatican II documents. The standard English translation of the Council decrees compiled by Father Austin Flannery cites only nine citations on Penance in the nearly one-thousand pages of Vatican II texts and decrees. The fact that para. 72 calls for a revision of the rites and formulas “so that they more clearly express both the nature and effect of the sacrament” does suggest that a majority of the bishops believed that the Sacrament of Penance was not clearly understood nor was it celebrated in a fruitful pastoral style. This is entirely understandable. I cannot think of another sacrament with a more complex history than Penance; at the very least, development of a freestanding rite of forgiveness was neither direct nor straightforward. In the first century of the Church, the unique “sacrament of forgiveness” was Baptism, celebrated once in a lifetime. St. Matthew’s Gospel [18: 15-18] describes what may be a blueprint for local churches in his guidance on how disputes among the baptized might be settled or adjudicated, but this is not a directive for a formal, sacramental rite. By the third century the Church had come to recognize major sins that would sever the bond with the baptized assembly: adultery, apostacy [publicly abandoning the faith], and murder. Readmission to the Eucharist was supervised by the bishop and involved a lengthy period of fast, prayer, and alms-seeking, which concluded at the Holy Thursday liturgy when the bishop laid hands upon the penitents and invited them to fellowship in the solemn holy days to follow. In truth, however, few Christians committed such grave sins, and thus few would experience an intense rite of forgiveness. One can guess that several rites and practices developed whereby reparation for commonplace sins might be made. One obvious place is the Mass itself. The Roman rite has long contained a penitential observance to begin the Mass, a practice that continues even to this day. Few Catholics fully appreciate that the absolution given to the congregation by the celebrant at the opening rite is a true absolution, forgiving all but mortal sins. The latter must be forgiven in the rite of private confession. The “I confess…” prayer at the opening of Mass is parallel to the Act of Contrition in the confessional. Ironically, the form of Penance we most recognize today did not originate in Rome, but rather among the missionary monks in Ireland, as early as the sixth century. At the end of each monastic day every monk knelt before the abbot and confessed a fault before retiring. Over time three critical developments unfolded: [1] the abbot’s blessing took upon itself an actual [as in “legal” or “canonical”] power of forgiving sin; [2] the monks, and soon the laity, were given the opportunity to receive again baptismal forgiveness; sacramental pardon was now repeatable. [3] In order to assist confessors in assigning proper amends for sins, the art of moral theology began in Ireland, where scholars began to catalog and weigh sins by their severity. Books of penitential “weights and measures” were written for clerics’ use, called Penitentiaries. This model of analysis of guilt and appropriate reparation would become the template for the discipline of moral theology; after the Reformation such an approach would be called “the manualist approach” to moral theology, and it is still quite common to see this method employed in Catholic catechetical resources to this day. That said, not every saint or theologian embraced the strictness and legal precision of moral theology and the confessional that marked the Catholic era after the sixteenth century Reformation. The remarkable St. Alphonsus Liguori [1696-1787], founder of the Redemptorist Order, battled the Jesuits on behalf of a confessional experience with greater emphasis upon mercy and compassion. Ligouri’s heritage passed on to the twentieth century where Scripture scholars were rediscovering the mercy of Jesus in the Gospels, notably in St. Luke’s Gospel which is currently being proclaimed at our Sunday Masses in 2019. So, the debate over the rites and effects of the Sacrament of Penance had a long history prior to the Council and would continue long after the Council. For Catholics of my generation, to be sure, we grew up with a sixth sense about confessors. Some were strict, some were kind, and a precious few were engaging and interested in listening to us and our circumstances and problems. While precious little went into print during Vatican II about this sacrament, it was safe to assume that a reform of the sacrament would follow the course of the other six: that the legal prescriptions might be mitigated by more emphasis upon the scripture and the spiritual involvement of the penitent. I was engaged in working with teenagers’ retreats around this time, and I remember telling the young folks that they need not be afraid to go to confession. Radio comedians Hudson and Landry capture penitential anxiety in their 1970’s routine, “Ajax Liquor Store.” [3 min.] The new rite of the Sacrament of Penance was released by the Vatican on February 7, 1974, just a few months before I was ordained. Penance was the last of the seven sacraments whose post-Council rites were approved. I found a very accurate description of the release in The New York Times from that February day. The biggest surprise was the multiplicity of approved rites: a rite for individual confession, a rite for a congregation with individual confession, and—remarkably—a rite for a congregation with general absolution without individual confession. [This third format was not exactly new; a form had been used on the Titanic before the final plunge, and in multiple battles such as Gettysburg in 1863 when individual confession would have been impossible.] The third rite, which came to be known in parochial shorthand as General Absolution, was immensely popular. Although intended by the Church as a ritual for emergencies and rural mission settings, many pastors—me included—employed the rite on college campuses and during special occasions such as parish missions. I can recall that when my parish held its first General Absolution Service, so many people turned out that half of them could not park or get into the building, and I am told that many of them crowded into our local Denny’s and Waffle House, boosting the local economy. The second formula, a group service with individual confession and absolution, was often held during Lent and Advent. Parishioners seemed to like the opportunity to confess to an “out of town priest” [as I do myself today]. However, it became clear that Pope John Paul II preferred the traditional format of confession and disliked the General Absolution format. Gradually local bishops prohibited the use of the third format, and as the century came to an end there was a general drift away from confession in all forms that is probably visible in your own parish today. It is probably worth noting that several Church Councils prior to Vatican II had addressed the frequency of confession. The Fourth Lateran Council [1215-16] and the Council of Trent [1545-63] legislated that every baptized Catholic make a confession of sin annually. Laws in general are enacted in response to a particular contemporary need; in our context it would seem that there was, to put it mildly, a reluctance to embrace the Sacrament of Penance throughout the history of the Church. Such was also true regarding reception of the Eucharist; Pius X urged more frequent reception of communion in 1910. What does seem clear, too, is that the liturgical and catechetical strategies that resulted from Vatican II did not fully address the heart of Catholic attitudes regarding confessional experience. Around 1983 I went fishing with my dad up in Canada, and one night he admitted over his Canadian Club that he only went to confession every two weeks because my mother made him go. My dad was a devout Catholic who got through the horrors of World War II by near constant praying of the rosary [he was buried with his war rosary years later.] I was a young pastor at the time, and when I reflected upon his sentiments later, it dawned on me that the post-Vatican II reform of Penance still had a long way to go to enrich the sacramental experience for even its core members.
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The spring meeting of the United States Catholic Bishops took place this past week. This meeting, not surprisingly, focused most of its three-day work on administrative codes for the investigating of bishops alleged to have covered up abuse or engaged in criminal or scandalous conduct, and the establishment of a national hotline for the Church where anyone can make an anonymous report about a bishop. Those opposed to the final decree of the meeting complained that it is still “bishops investigating bishops;” I, on the other hand, share the hope that everyone—including diocesan and chancery officials--finally have a safe place to go with complaints of malfeasance or possible crimes.
The last meeting of the bishops in November 2018 also dealt with this issue, as the Pennsylvania Grand Jury report had been released just a few months earlier. Thus, for an entire year the attention of the apostolic leaders of the United States has been diverted to the sexual abuse crisis, and certainly further back to at lease 2002. Clearly, the healing of victims and the safety of the Church enterprise should never be compromised. But the bishops are exhausted, as Peter Feuerherd writes in “After tumultuous year, bishops' meeting opens with palpable sense of weariness.” The sad fact remains that as the Church copes with the sins of the past, there is little time or energy to face the issues of the present or the future. Guidance and directives from the nation’s bishops on American Church life are hard to come by, in large part because the bishops are divided along progressive-moderate-conservative lines (much like civil government) and because of other pressures, such as clergy shortages, changes in American culture, and falling church attendance. One matter that has fallen through the cracks is sacramental initiation, most notably the pastoral practice of Confirmation. The last guidance from the USCCB on the age of Confirmation, for example, was issued in November, 2000: “The National Conference of Catholic Bishops, in accord with the prescriptions of canon 891, hereby decrees that the Sacrament of Confirmation in the Latin rite shall be conferred between the age of discretion [7] and about sixteen [16] years of age, within the limits determined by the diocesan bishop and with regard for the legitimate exceptions given in canon 891.” As I discussed in the last Saturday blog post, the differing ages of administering Confirmation across the country implicitly shifts the pastoral understanding of the sacrament and the way in which catechesis or instruction takes place. When the bishops agreed to the current 7-16 age spread for the Confirmation of baptized Catholics in 2000, the result was inevitable, because the progressive wing of the conference, along with a large number of those in the religious education establishment in the U.S., held out for an interpretation of the sacrament as an early adult personal affirmation of vows previous made by parents and godparents. This was a position gaining strength when I became a pastor in the late 1970’s. The conservative or traditional position—and, in fact, the predominant one to this day—held that Confirmation was (is) a preemptive exercise of the Holy Spirit’s power for middle school children as they were entering puberty and the dangers of adolescent life. For traditional thinkers, it was not necessary that Confirmands “feel empowered” by the Holy Spirit; the celebration of the sacrament by the bishop insured that the protection of the Spirit was de facto present throughout life. When Timothy Gabrielli’s 2013 book questioned the emphasis upon autonomy and personal subjectivity of the Confirmation age in the later teen years as a drift away from full participation of the Mystical Body of Christ, I was critical of his work then. We had a very fruitful exchange of correspondence, and it has come to my attention that critical research in the social sciences in recent years has undercut some of my certainties. If the idea of Confirmation in the late adolescent years is based upon better “maturity,” the consensus of the neurological psychology community has moved full organic/social maturity to as late as 26. [Actually, who among us has reached his or her maturity peak?] On the other hand, studies on young people leaving the Church in the United States indicate that the median age of “opting out” is 13, with the process beginning around 10. In the United States we have a small but significant number of dioceses which have opted for the youngest age of celebrating Confirmation, i.e., 7 or the age of reason, currently permitted by ecclesiastical law. I have seen figures of about 30 dioceses of the 180 in the U.S. which have adopted the younger age, such as Fargo, North Dakota. One of the driving factors for earlier Confirmation is restoring its place in the order of sacraments of initiation, as is done in the RCIA program (i.e., Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist.) How this return to early Confirmation has been accepted by the rank and file is hard to say. The websites of dioceses like Fargo or Denver seem to do a lot of huffing and puffing to explain the rationale, and one diocesan website advised parish personnel, in so many words, to refer those with questions about the lower age of Confirmation to the chancery. Anyone who has volunteered more than an hour in parish religious education is probably aware of the pragmatism that overrides much of parochial understanding of Confirmation. I am sure that in many households the move to a single second or third grade Confirmation/First Eucharist celebration would be welcomed as an early dispatch of Church obligations. Conversely, there would be parents disturbed by the early celebration of Confirmation, as this sacrament is frequently viewed as the last carrot on the stick for youthful continuing education in the Faith. They used to say that “Confirmation was graduation” from CCD, an expression which was and remains painfully true. Lest I forget, there is also a silent majority who wonder what the heck is going on. When is the last time you heard a sermon on Confirmation? I am hopeful that Dr. Gabrielli is representative of new school theologians who are seeking to explore better understanding of the Church as the Mystical Body of Christ. [It is most encouraging this spring to see this scholar join what is probably one of the best schools of religious education in the country, the University of Dayton.] His 2017 work on the Mystical Body of Christ focuses upon “models of the Church” as vehicles for the work of Christ through his Holy Spirit. Some models now in use work better than others; none are working extremely well. If ten-year-olds are starting to cash their chips on the venture called “Church,” clearly there are multiple dysfunctions in the Christian family. Too much legalism and indifference, and fear of the cost of a lived Christian life seem like good places to begin a reassessment. Gabrielli reminds the Church of the vision of early twentieth century liturgical reformers such as Virgil Michel, whose lifelong goal was “to make all members of the Church aware of the true meaning of the liturgy as the Church’s public worship system in which all must find ‘the primary and indispensable source’ of the Christ-life.” [Full Michel 1939 biography here.] For us in the 21st century, all Church worship, beginning with its sacraments, is a unifying experience of the risen Christ, which motivates a deeper love of the divine, a charity between all believers, and an energetic service to the world. I note that on the final day of the bishops’ meeting, the members discussed the flight from the Church of the young. While Bishop Robert Barron made an intelligent presentation on the subject, one of his confreres took the floor urging his fellow bishops to be aware of the impact on sexual morality of Woodstock, an event that happened when some of the bishops were in parochial school. I don’t think that Santana, Richie Havens, or Janis Joplin have much to do with young people’s departures. I think the answer is better sought in an openness to the Spirit in a way that enlightens, loves, and serves. At every age. CONSTITUTION
ON THE SACRED LITURGY SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM SOLEMNLY PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS POPE PAUL VI ON DECEMBER 4, 1963 71. The rite of confirmation is to be revised and the intimate connection which this sacrament has with the whole of Christian initiation is to be more clearly set forth; for this reason, it is fitting for candidates to renew their baptismal promises just before they are confirmed. Confirmation may be given within the Mass when convenient; when it is given outside the Mass, the rite that is used should be introduced by a formula to be drawn up for this purpose. Predicting the future is a fool’s errand; even if you are successful, you probably won’t live long enough for a victory lap. By the same token, you will probably not be around to hear your friends laugh at your folly, either. Looking at national blog sites of Catechist ministers and administers, checking websites of dioceses changing the order of initiation sacraments, and observing the recent Easter Vigil in my own parish, I got to wondering how the sacraments of initiation will be celebrated twenty-five years from now in the United States, or around the world, for that matter. Twenty-five years from now I will be 96, and focused on another sacrament, the Last Rites, [officially the “Sacrament of the Sick,” but I want my indulgenced crucifix!] If you read para. 71 of Sacrosanctum Concilium closely, the emphasis is on “the intimate connection which this sacrament [Confirmation] has with the whole of Christian initiation [Baptism].” At the time of para. 71’s composition, pastoral practice addressed Confirmation as a free-standing sacrament with its own raison d’etre, the empowerment of the Holy Ghost. Typical for its time, my Confirmation occurred in sixth grade, 1960, before Vatican II. What I remember of my preparation was its explanation that the Spirit would make me spiritually stronger, a soldier for Christ, ready to endure any sacrifice for the Faith. The only traces of the ritual I recall today are the bishop patting me on the cheek after the anointing, a dying ember of a gesture that once symbolized taking a blow to the face for professing Christ; and second, that the bishop did not speak English, ritually or otherwise. My sponsor told us later that the confirming bishop was a missionary from the Philippines raising money for a jeep; his stipend from the pastor was $5 per candidate. Sacrosanctum Concilium was a directive document for bishops and theologians in their reform of all the sacramental rites, which involved among other things a return to the root meanings of the sacraments as determined from the Scripture, history, tradition, and contemporary theological insight. One of the most glaring divergences between early Church practice and the Church of the early 1960’s involved initiation, and it came as quite a surprise to many Catholics after Vatican II that both Confirmation and first Eucharist were as essential as Baptism in the passage of initiation into the Christian Community, and would be celebrated as one unified rite at the Easter Vigil. The reasons for the disengagement of these three sacraments are historically complex and better left to a work such as Joseph Martos’ 2014 Doors to the Sacred, but I will itemize a few factors: [1] the explosion of Christian converts for political purposes in the Roman Empire under Constantine in the fourth century, leading to a decline in the lengthy practice of preparation of adults, the catechumenate; [2] St. Augustine’s fifth century theology of original sin and the urgency of infant baptism; [3] geography—the distances between bishops and their peoples during the balance of the first millennium, stretching the period between Baptism and Confirmation to years. By the high middle ages and the Council of Trent [1545-1563] each of the three initiation sacraments had developed its own freestanding theology and time of practice. It is notable, though not always appreciated, that the post-Trent Church celebrated initiation sacraments in the post-Apostolic order, i.e., Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist. As recently as 1910, parishes baptized at infancy, confirmed around the age of reason [generally 7], and celebrated first communion at about 15 or thereabouts. The practice of my youth, and most of the Church prior to the Council, was shaped by Pope Pius X [r. 1903-1914] who, as his biography indicates, was distrustful of modern ideas and influences. For Pius, living in the world constituted dangers of error and conduct that even young children would be susceptible to. He believed that withholding the Eucharist from young children made them more vulnerable to evil influences in the world. The decree Quam singulari of 1910 lays out the legal and devotional thinking on dropping the age of First Communion to the age of reason; this outline is worth a look to get a sense of official pastoral thinking at that time just before World War I. The pope’s emphasis upon earlier Eucharist had the impact of moving both Penance and Confirmation further down the road of youthful development. Pius X’s sacramental priorities led to the highly affective first communion of children aged seven or thereabouts, often dressed in white, in the post-Easter season. It is likely that your parish celebrated First Communion very recently. When Pius X flipped the order of First Communion and Confirmation in 1910, the latter sacrament became something of an adolescent orphan seeking its own identity and purpose. In practice, the sequence of Baptism-Confirmation-Eucharist—prompted by para. 71--was easy to adapt to adult conversion, and the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults was formulated as we know it today. But the issue of children’s initiation defied easy reconciliation. The Roman Catholic Church continues to baptize during infancy, perhaps not quite for the same reasons that St. Augustine put forth; the reformed rite of infant baptism and its attendant catechesis or parental preparation lays out the appropriateness of welcoming newborns into their domestic families of faith in the full Mystical Body of Christ. I am not an advocate of changing this practice. That said, we are confronted with the reality of an elongated initiation rite. The question that has plagued liturgists and theologians for the last century involves the two poles of initiation: is it better to celebrate all three sacraments at once in infancy or early childhood, or to celebrate them in stages, as is most common. In the staging mode, Confirmation suffers the most because, biblically speaking, Baptism brings the Spirit to the candidate. It is worth remembering that even as Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan, the Spirit came to him “as like a dove.” The evangelists, writing for churches decades later, affirm the unity of Baptism and Anointing of the Spirit. When there is a time chasm between the sacraments of Baptism and Confirmation, Catholic education and catechetics is forced to create a pastoral theology for each when in truth each sacrament compliments the other in an act of unified divine intervention. The theology of baptism is at least partly understood throughout parish life. Confirmation, on the other hand, has multiple competing understandings. I find considerable humor in the fact that a popular 1993 work, Confirmation: The Baby in Solomon's Court, was edited and rereleased in 2006 as the debate continues. I read the original some years ago, in which the author was able to identify seven distinct theologies or constructs for understanding Confirmation across the Christian world. There has been something of a vacuum in Church leadership in the United States over the appropriate age for Confirmation. The USCCB, the American bishops’ governing board, has provided guidelines for appropriate ages of candidates: between 7 and 18! Like many segments of society, the bishops themselves are divided. This may be a blessing in disguise, because much scholarship and experimentation remains to be done. How one understands the sacrament will obviously impact the age and the catechetical preparation for the rite. For most of my pastoral life I supported Confirmation at the high school senior age on the grounds that Confirmation offered adolescent/adults an opportunity to make a mature personal decision, to affirm what had been done in their name by others. My bishop wasn’t thrilled but there was no national policy to supersede what I was doing. Most of my pastoring took place in the 1980’s when the phrase “born again” was in vogue and the idea of reaffirming one’s life in Jesus Christ was the religious coinage of the realm in all Christian churches, perhaps getting a boost from President Jimmy Carter, who was famously open about his religious experience. Thus the 17-18-year-old range held a certain appeal for many of us in leadership at the time. Today, however, I would probably exercise more caution. A few years ago, I attended a seminar with Dr. Gregory Lester, a psychologist-author who does consulting work for the Archdiocese of Denver. Lester observed that neurological maturity has been found to be much later than previously thought—the age 26 generally agreed upon. Lester attributes this to the complexity of life situations that did not exist in, say, 1900. Moreover, contemporary data from the social sciences supports Pius X’s contention that there is a lot more going on in the minds of young children than present-day Church catechetics is ready to admit. In an exhaustive 2018 study CARA, funded by St. Mary’s Press, determined that the median age of someone leaving the Church is 13, and children begin the process of disaffiliation from Catholicism around the age of 10. When I read blogsites of catechists, I see a lot of fuss and feathers about proper instruction, catechism content, service projects, etc., but very little about listening to third and fourth graders and their experiences of Church life. Many children, of course, are never brought to Mass by parents. Others may attend Mass, but they cannot see the altar or fathom the rituals…or resonate with the parish music program. While the CARA study surprised me, upon reflection it makes eminently good sense and should cause us to reassess the ways we address the sacramental needs of the young. If your parish has Confirmation in the seventh grade, ages 12 or 13, there is a good chance that your candidates have already decided about long-term membership in the Catholic communion. I am happy to say, though, that a new breed of Catholic theologians is emerging with provocative material on the Church’s sacramental life. I returned last Saturday from a three-week cruise to England, and the calm sea air gave me the opportunity to read and reflect upon what to do about “Solomon’s baby.” I will break this down for the next entry from Sacrosanctum Concilium, which will continue reflection on para. 71. CONSTITUTION
ON THE SACRED LITURGY SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM SOLEMNLY PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS POPE PAUL VI ON DECEMBER 4, 1963 69. In place of the rite called the "Order of supplying what was omitted in the baptism of an infant," a new rite is to be drawn up. This should manifest more fittingly and clearly that the infant, baptized by the short rite, has already been received into the Church. And a new rite is to be drawn up for converts who have already been validly baptized; it should indicate that they are now admitted to communion with the Church. In talking with faith formation directors of parishes and reading the blogsites connected to Catholic liturgical sites, not only are fewer Catholics participating in sacramental life as a whole, but those young people seeking participation in the sacraments of initiation come to the Church with erratic histories and diverse understandings, if any, to the point where each young person—and adult, for that matter—needs a separate roadmap to capture the spiritual organic richness of initiation into the Body of Christ. It almost reminds me of retirement planning and portfolio management. Paragraph 69 appears as a simple housekeeping directive, a follow-up to an earlier directive that any person, in an emergency, can validly baptize another human being so long as the Trinitarian formula is used, i.e., “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” [In ecclesiastical jargon, “the short rite.”] At the time Sacrosanctum Concilium was written in 1963, the Church had a formal ritual for use at the church after the emergency had passed, in which all the other parts of the Baptism ritual were performed except for the pouring of water. The blessings, anointings, exorcism, profession of faith by the Godparents, etc., were performed in this later rite. Para. 69 calls for a new follow-up rite to emergency baptisms; the new rite is required to emphasize that baptism received in unusual circumstances has the same impact upon the person as a baptism performed by a bishop in his cathedral. The emphasis of the Church Fathers is placing new emphasis upon a basic principle, that in Baptism the person “has already been received into the Church.” In the 1990’s the Catechism would state “Holy Baptism is the basis of the whole Christian life, the gateway to life in the Spirit (vitae spiritualis ianua), and the door which gives access to the other sacraments.” It is sometimes lost in catechetics that Baptism is a universal sacrament, not a denominational one. By Catholic tradition, one is not baptized a Presbyterian or a Methodist; rather, through faith and baptism (Rom 6: 3-5) the Christian assumes a new identity in Christ. One becomes a “new being” in a washing that changes one’s internal character forever. Some years ago, the phrase “born again” was popular in Christian ministry, but in Catholic practice the baptismal washing is never repeated. The other sacraments and the liturgical seasons provide for what we would call a “rebirth” after baptism. The second part of para. 69 calls for a new rite for converts, those [presumably adults and children of the age of reason] “who have been already validly baptized” in their own churches and should demonstrate “that they are now admitted to communion with the Church.” Presumably this instruction is intended for Protestants seeking to enter full communion with the Catholic Church, having been baptized legitimately and of their own free will in the ritual of their Christian Church. There is a significant theological point to be made in the full text of para. 69. The universal nature of Baptism stands in complimentary contrast to full participation in the sacramental life of the Catholic union. Catholic teaching since the Council has attempted to show reverence and respect for the worship and good works of Christian Churches not in communion with Rome or under the authority of the Bishop of Rome, the pope. At the same time, Catholic theology has labored to find the precise language to state Catholicism’s exclusiveness as the full treasury of God’s revelation. Vatican II deftly avoided stating that Catholicism was the sole owner or repository of God’s holiness; it turned to the word “subsists” in the Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium: “This Church, constituted and organized in this world as a society, subsists in the Catholic Church, governed by the successor of Peter and the Bishops in communion with him.” LG goes on to say that elements of the Church—the prayer, preaching, ministry, and good works of other Christian Churches—are pleasing to God and worthy of fraternal respect, but these churches are lacking in specific ways the fullness spoken of in the Creed—one, holy catholic, apostolic. As I write this, I understand there is a measure of arrogance that grates upon modern ears. I also concede that Roman Catholicism has indulged in this arrogance to the point that from time to time in history our hubris has led to intellectual and moral decay. For Catholic leaders of truth and holiness, to preach and lead as the one Church fully endowed with the truths and rites of salvation is a cross, not an accolade. None would dare claim it were it not the explicit command of Christ as he empowered his apostles with the life of God in his Holy Spirit. Going back to para. 69, I have to think that the new ritual for converts called for in the text is nothing less than the celebration of the sacraments of full communion, i.e., Confirmation—the sealing of the Holy Spirit—and the first Eucharistic banquet. Para. 69 speaks of those who pass through this rite as “now admitted to communion with the Church.” There are important catechetical dimensions here. There is a difference between those who have never been baptized and those who have. The Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults, part of the Easter Vigil, is indeed just what the title indicates, initiation into the universal Christian life. By contrast, converts who have been baptized are already Christian and their quest is full union with the Catholic tradition of faith. Their preparation and rites take a different form. Some may ask why—if Baptism is a biblical constant across Christianity—we make a “big deal” about denominations and their differences from Catholic life. The answer is that the Spirit compels us to, for Catholic faith compels us to be “one” in faith. The fracture of the Christian body does not date to apostolic times. It is our historical missteps. I believe that other churches have come into being as gifts along the way to the end of time, as communities with charisms of reform. I believe in Christ’s prayer that we all be one, but that unity will be hastened as we listen to the insights of those enriched with special charisms for a specific era. The Orthodox keep us rooted in the sacredness of rite and the treasure of founding doctrine. Lutheran charism needs no introduction. Methodism brought affective faith experience at a time of general religious stagnation. Anglicanism stressed the episcopal [bishops’] ministry at a time when Roman Catholic authority was becoming overly centralized. We are many bodies, and we are One Body. Para. 69 reminded the Catholic Church to bear this in mind in reforming its rites of baptism and initiation. CONSTITUTION
ON THE SACRED LITURGY SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM SOLEMNLY PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS POPE PAUL VI ON DECEMBER 4, 1963 67. The rite for the baptism of infants is to be revised, and it should be adapted to the circumstance that those to be baptized are, in fact, infants. The roles of parents and godparents, and also their duties, should be brought out more clearly in the rite itself. 68. The baptismal rite should contain variants, to be used at the discretion of the local ordinary, for occasions when a very large number are to be baptized together. Moreover, a shorter rite is to be drawn up, especially for mission lands, to be used by catechists, but also by the faithful in general when there is danger of death, and neither priest nor deacon is available. While we are inclined to think of the Eucharistic as the central sacrament of our Faith, and the Council does indeed refer to the Liturgy as the “source and summit” of the Church’s life, it is equally true that without Baptism there would be no other sacraments, because there would be no one to celebrate the other six sacraments if no one has been born again into Christ and recreated into a new man or a new woman. The “metaphysics” of baptism, or how this sacrament has developed its identity over time, is complex. John the Baptist poured water upon his converts as a repentance for the judgment to come. St. Paul described baptism as the re-creation into a life in full union with God through rebirth in Christ, a remaking of identity that extended into the next life. In the fifth century St. Augustine understood the baptismal washing as a cleansing from the inherited sin and guilt of Adam and Evil, a guilt incurred by actual conception and birth with a need for immediate baptism of washing and forgiveness as soon as birth after possible. When the Council called for a renewal of the Baptismal ritual books, it found itself caught in several theological and pastoral conundrums. To cite just one, how does one square the circle of the immediate need for baptism with the fact that this sacrament is the climax of a long journey toward faith by which one makes a subjective and internal decision to “put aside the old man” and to live in the image Christ? Or another: the variant ages of those seeking baptism, ranging from infants presented by their parents for sundry reasons to teenagers and adults who have taken several years to process the idea and the inner conscience commitment they will be asked to profess. Paragraphs 67 and 68 focus upon infant baptisms, though not exclusively so. The last post in this stream, on Paragraph 66, discusses adult baptism and the ritual accommodation, and assumes the reintroduction of the catechumenate of the first four centuries. Para. 67 does not explicitly say that infants must pass through the elongated catechumenal process, which would be impossible anyway. But the same paragraph introduces a previous grave omission, the active role of parents in the rite book itself. In my youth, parents did not attend the baptism, strange as this may seem today. My newborn siblings were taken to church by the godparents, while my parents stayed home to prepare the luncheon. This may have been a holdover from an earlier day when the urgency of immediate baptism trumped a mother’s recovery time after birth, and it is true that in some countries and cultures there are legal-moral bonds between godparents and their godchildren, as in adopting them if the parents should die. [“Michael Corleone, do you reject Satan?”] The inclusion of the parents into the baptismal rite is one of the best reforms to come forth from Vatican II, but as several generations of clergy and parish ministers will tell you today, particularly posters on the “Catholic Directors of Faith Formation” Facebook site, which I find intriguing, parents and sponsors themselves are often poorly catechized and thus limited in meeting the commitment in today’s new rite of infant baptism, where the minister addresses the couple as “the first teachers of your child in the ways of the faith; may you be the best of teachers….” It may be that some form of a catechesis journey may prepare parents for the baptism of their children where understanding of the faith is lacking. At the very least, this might eliminate our present practice of “parent classes” or even just one class before baptism, which seems to inspire frustration in teacher and student alike and deviates from the multifaceted faith to conversion model of the catechumenate. Para. 68 introduces another masterful reform, the restoration of infant baptism as part of the parish’s life and contribution. The practical application has been the celebration of baptism of infants in clusters of families. Para. 68 calls for the creation of such a rite, and most parishes of my acquaintance have such a rite perhaps once a month where several families bring infants to church for a group rite. There is excellent theology behind this practice, as Baptism is not a private sacrament [no sacrament is, actually] and it is fitting for there to be a congregation of the Body of Christ at every infant’s baptism. You may recall from an earlier post that Sacrosanctum Concilium called for a Mass rite to be composed for such group occasions. To my knowledge, this project was never completed or fell into disuse as the practice of baptizing infants began to take place at a Saturday/Sunday parish Mass where the assigned Mass of the weekend takes precedence over other formulas. Celebrating infant baptisms at the parish Mass is an excellent practice, on paper. Theologically speaking, there is no better place for it than amid a large representation of the local Church of the Baptized, and the optics of the rite bring home an entire parish’s commitment to display faith formation and example to the infant and his or her family. However, a May 2017 essay on information in the independent Catholic news service, Zenit, discusses some of the practical difficulties of frequent infant baptisms at weekend parish Masses. Quoting from the diocesan directives of Brisbane, Australia, Zenit reports that “…the Rite also says that baptism at Sunday Mass ‘should not be done too often.’ In fact, surprisingly few parishes have made it a regular feature of their liturgical practice. There are some common reasons behind both these statements. “From the point of view of the worshipping community, there may be resistance to Sunday Mass being unduly prolonged on a regular basis or to the pattern of Sunday readings and homilies being frequently interrupted. To priests, musicians and liturgists who are already fully occupied with the demands of Sunday Mass, it might just seem too much extra to take on.” This has been my reservation over the years. I attend the same Saturday night Mass every week and I have noticed fewer infant baptisms. The final instruction in para. 68 speaks of a shorter rite for extreme cases covering a multitude of circumstances. In parts of the world the day to day affairs of Catholic communities are overseen by lay catechists, who routinely baptize infants when a visit by a priest or deacon is rare. However, Baptism can be administered by anyone in a case of dire necessity, without previous permission if there is no time. Anyone means anyone, even someone who is not Christian but performs the essentials of the rite: pouring of the water and the use of the Trinitarian formula. The assumption here that the “baptizer” is doing what the dying person or his or family has always desired. The reform of the rites of Baptism consistently brings one point home: that no one should be baptized if they have already been baptized with water in the Trinitarian formula. The Catholic Church holds that “rebaptizing” someone from another Christian denomination violates the good will of all churches who believe that baptism saves. Moreover, the Catholic doctrine of Baptism holds that the sacramental rite changes the inner life of a person, literally rendering them a new person in Christ. The effects of this sacrament cannot be undone nor may they be repeated. It is permissible for someone who has been baptized in danger of death to later experience the full sacramental rite of anointings and blessings, but under no circumstances can the pouring of water occur. I don’t hear this much today but for a while it was common for Catholics to complain that they could not be born again as adults like their evangelical friends. To this I would say that the altar call baptisms at evangelical churches or revivals are, at their heart, opportunities for penitential desires and expression; they have something in common with our sacrament of Penance. We have done a very poor job presenting our Sacrament of Penance as a potential life-changing altar call moment, possibly because of overemphasis upon legalities and form. There are other ways for Catholics to awaken their baptismal fervor, from retreats to religious rallies to even pilgrimages. When we undertake these conversion ventures, it is not a matter of attaining something we never had before, but of awakening the full dimension of what our early baptism recreated us to be. CONSTITUTION
ON THE SACRED LITURGY SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM SOLEMNLY PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS POPE PAUL VI ON DECEMBER 4, 1963 66. Both the rites for the baptism of adults are to be revised: not only the simpler rite, but also the more solemn one, which must take into account the restored catechumenate. A special Mass "for the conferring of baptism" is to be inserted into the Roman Missal. I must remind myself that I am getting older [I turned 71 today] and that much of the readership of the Catechist Café has a considerably different experience of the Church than I had in my early life. For example, the official rituals for the sacraments, ordered revised considering the teachings of Vatican II, only became available in my 20’s. The revised order of the Mass, the Novus Ordo of Pope Paul VI that we use today in our parishes, did not come into use until 1970. Pope Paul’s introduction of the new Mass missal at that time is an informative and enlightening explanation of the principles employed in “changing the Mass” after the Council. The Ordo Paenitentiae or rites for the Sacrament of Penance was promulgated in 1973. The three rituals that fall under the umbrella “rites of Penance” have had a very interesting development since the 1973 release. The gulf between sacramental rites as they were promulgated, and the ways we celebrate them today, is probably worthy of its own book, a testament to liturgical evolution, or at least a good doctoral dissertation. As one example, the 1973 rite includes as an option the practice of “General Absolution,” large clusters of the faithful receiving binding canonical forgiveness without individual confession. My college parish in the 1970’s embraced that practice enthusiastically, as my suburban parish did in the 1980’s. However, Pope John Paul II disapproved of the use of General Absolution even though this rite was never removed from the books, and this practice has, alas, fallen into disuse. Curiously, the penitential rite most used in my neck of the woods is the “going to the confession in the confessional mode,” but if you look at Ordo Paenitentiae you will notice that even this rite is more complex than what we generally do in the box today. Acknowledging this, Pope Francis felt compelled to write a pastoral commentary on the uneven development of penitential practice in 2015 with emphases on areas of improvement. Francis’ relatively brief [by Vatican standards] instruction is historically interesting and intriguing to this day. The practice and rites of the Sacrament of Baptism were delivered piecemeal in the early 1970’s due to the needs and ages of those seeking the sacrament, infants and adults. Para. 66 is an umbrella statement that attempts to address the multiple constituencies seeking baptism, which in 1963 would have spanned the newly born to adult converts. I would like to hear from some catechists with boots on the ground about present day baptismal preparation, as I do not see in para. 66 a constituency that appears very frequently in parish life, children and teens who were not baptized at infancy and present themselves for baptism between the ages of 2 and 17, from what I hear from my friends in multiple parishes. Para. 66 speaks of “both rites” then in use for adults. I have searched to find out exactly what they might refer to. I remember a few adult baptisms in my youth. They were private affairs attended by the candidate and his or her family [and sponsor], at a time when nothing else was scheduled in the church. There was at the time no “catechumenate” as we know it today; instruction for baptism was conducted privately by a priest in the rectory office. In fact, one of the best sellers in the pre-Vatican II era was a popular text called Father Smith Instructs Jackson. This was an effective catechetical tool, a narrative of discussions between the erudite Father Smith [a fictitious character] and “Jackson,” described as a searching pagan. In my own copy, which I have unfortunately lost, Father Smith sits in front of an impressive office library, while Jackson enters with top coat and briefcase, like a businessman returning home from New York on the Metro North to Tarrytown. As I say, the rite and the instructions were generally private. I have no idea of what the “more solemn” rite refers to in the text. However, in the old Tridentine Rite there was an official notation in the Holy Saturday Mass [replaced now by the nighttime Easter Vigil] that instructs immediately after the blessing of the Easter water, “if there are persons to be baptized, [the celebrant] baptizes them in the usual matter.” This is from a 1957 ritual; I personally never saw it done on Holy Saturday. The idea of a Holy Saturday baptism of adults perhaps throws light on the next instruction in para. 66, that ‘the restored catechumenate” must be taken into consideration where the baptism of adults in concerned. Clearly, the voting bishops must have had some idea of what a catechumenate looked like or entailed, for the text itself implies that. In the pre-Council era, the first half of the Mass before the Offertory was called the “Mass of the Catechumens” dating to the early centuries when adult candidates for baptism participated in hearing the Scripture and the sermon; such participation was a vital part of their faith formation. The catechumens would leave before the sacred rites of consecration and communion, which were reserved for the baptized. I could not find a “Mass for the conferring of baptism” which para. 66 had called for adding to the new post-Council Mass formulas. In a rather thorough search, what I found is strong opinion that baptisms be celebrated in a parochial Mass on the weekend using the established texts of that weekend. The idea here is emphasis upon the communal nature of the Church and a large representation of the Church community to give witness to the newly baptized that he or she is born again into a body of people saved by Christ, with whom the newly converted can share the Eucharistic meal and the full life of the Church. A nagging question today, which para. 66 was in no position to address, is the variety of folks who approach the Church for rebirth or baptism but may be already baptized in another Christian faith tradition or even the Roman Catholic Church itself. First off, no one can be rebaptized regardless of which tradition conferred a previous baptism. Only those who are unbaptized are, technically speaking, catechumens and need the full series of rites and lessons leading up to the Easter Vigil. An intriguing website, “Team RCIA,” gets into the nuts and bolts of parish conversion formation. TR confirms what I hear on the ground, that the biggest set of requests come from Catholics and Protestants seeking to join or rejoin full membership. The biggest need in their lives is adult catechetics and faith formation. I refer you to TR’s blog about who belongs where, and the very interesting responses of parish workers in a very fruitful and non-polemic discussion of parish strategies. CONSTITUTION
ON THE SACRED LITURGY SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM SOLEMNLY PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS POPE PAUL VI ON DECEMBER 4, 1963 65. In mission lands it is found that some of the peoples already make use of initiation rites. Elements from these, when capable of being adapted to Christian ritual, may be admitted along with those already found in Christian tradition, according to the norm laid down in Art. 37-40, of this Constitution. Paragraph 65 appears in the sequence of Conciliar reforms treating of the Sacrament of Baptism. It is probably obscure to most Catholics, but like many of the Council writings, it did not receive much press in the avalanche of other statements such as the option to celebrate the Mass in the vernacular. But Sacrosanctum Concilium is a living document, offering the Church opportunities to renew itself by continually raising the difficult questions we must face to better understand the nature of parish ministry. Para. 65 uses the term “mission lands.” How do we define a “mission land?” In the earliest days of the Church Christians identified themselves as Jews and primitive missionary work involved convincing fellow Jews that Jesus was the Messiah. After St. Paul convinced the brethren that Jesus’ salvation was universal, i.e., inclusive of Gentiles as well as Jews, the term “mission” would have applied to any region where the Gospel or Good News of Jesus Christ had not yet been preached. Thus, the idea of making converts became geographic. With remarkable foresight the early Church understood that for effective outreach it must place itself at the center of things, and since “all roads lead to Rome,” as the saying went, this is where the Church established itself. As the Roman Empire encompassed much of Europe, Asia, and Africa, the missionaries would have a monumental task ahead of them, multiplied by forays into lands as diverse as Ireland and India. The discovery of the Americas, and the still unexplored Orient, expanded the definition of “mission lands.” In the post-Reformation era the term was applied to all countries and territories where the Church was not yet developed to provide the basic norms of structure and sacramental life, where seminaries and an indigenous clergy could not meet the minimal needs of the territory without outside support. Such lands fell under the supervision of the Vatican Congregation of Propaganda. The United States was considered missionary territory until 1908, and except for a twenty-year span between 1940 and 1960, depended upon foreign born clergy for most of its sacramental services—though most American Catholics probably were not aware of this at the time. Though seminaries were full in 1960, only a very small percentage of American-born seminarians completed the course of studies through ordination; my class ordained perhaps 5% of those who entered in 1962. I suspect that, using 1908 definitions and metrics, the United States has returned to missionary status in fact, if not by proclamation. It was common in my childhood and early adulthood to hear sermons or classroom presentations on “the missions” as the term morphed into geographic regions of poverty and underdevelopment as well as areas where the Church was not established. My sources of missionary image would have come from (1) missionary priests visiting our parish, emphasizing the poverty of their sites and soliciting funds; (2) Catholic classroom teaching about ransoming pagan babies, the ongoing campaign for Catholic school children to contribute loose change into $5 amounts to send to missionaries. These missionaries, in turn, would rescue pagan babies and essentially take custody newborns and baptize them. We were taught that the Communist Chinese put infant girl babies on a hillside to die of exposure after birth, so I was proud of saving lives and making converts. Not so long ago my mother found my certificates deep in our household detritus. If this whole business sounds a little bizarre, check the colorful recollections of a Catholic sister on this practice here, and look at the sometimes-irreverent responses of the former student readers to the post, too. The third leg of missionary catechesis (3) was the general curriculum of Catholic school education. As we studied world geography, it was expected of us that we know which missionary brought the Catholic Faith to each country, and how he suffered for the effort. As a New York State resident, I became immersed in the work of the Jesuit St. Isaac Jogues and the first North American Martyrs. A shrine to their work among the Great Lakes nations of Native Americans is a popular devotional site near the New York State Thruway. In reading of the Jesuits’ work as an adult, the extent of their sacrifices never ceases to amaze me, the human suffering being much more horrid than anything we head in elementary school. As time progressed into the age of Vatican II, the concept of “mission” became more complex. Modern historians questioned the motives of Catholic missionaries who accompanied colonial explorers, notably in North and South America. Were they abetting the cruel submission of indigenous peoples by propagating the religion of the invaders? The works of Franciscan Junipero Serra and other religious missionaries in what is now California, for example, are now coming under thorough scrutiny. Stanford University, where several streets and buildings are named after Serra for his role in California, has renamed some but let others continue to bear his name. I have not had an opportunity to study the question carefully, but I am aware that Spanish missionaries often criticized the conquistadores and attempted to mitigate the rough treatment of fallen natives. Missionaries to the East, such as the Jesuit Matteo Ricci, went to their missions unencumbered by colonializing armies and lived for many years in the Orient engaging in scholarly understanding and cultural exchange, often winning respect if not outright acceptance of Christianity. Beyond historical cases, what is the nature of missionary work today? In 1943 a controversial work appeared overseas, France: Mission Country? [Unavailable in English and rare today.] The irony of such a title would not have been lost in France, certainly, which for centuries carried the national title of “Daughter of the Church,” probably from the days of Charlemagne of the ninth century. However, in the catastrophe of World War II, the French Church began to lose allegiance of the working class, who regarded the French Church as a bourgeois or upper crust institution; blue collar workers turned in increasing numbers to socialist movements. The 1943 work posed the question of whether “Catholic countries” can regress to a point where wholesale “re-missioning” is necessary; in today’s jargon we might think of this in terms of evangelization, though in a stronger sense than American Catholics use the term. In response to the reality of losing the working class in the Church, several French bishops blessed the idea of priests being released from parish duties to live and work shoulder to shoulder with blue collar laborers as a sign of the Church’s solidarity with their plight. The experiment lasted less than a decade, and only 100 priests served in this innovative ministry. A number of the priests became involved politically with socialist movements, a circumstance which put the movement in bad light with the Vatican, and in the years between 1954 and 1957 the movement was gradually suppressed. That said, this audacious idea sowed interest beyond its time and numbers. Before he was elected pope, the future John Paul II expressed considerable interest in this form of missionary endeavor; he himself was a blue-collar deacon under Communist rule in Poland and knew much about the hard lives of day laborers. The present-day Pope Francis has counseled priests against lives of “bling,” encouraging them to “smell like the sheep” they shepherd. It would seem to me that Para. 65 opens the door to discussion about “mission lands” that takes us to the invaluable question of missionary effort today. Can it be said that the Catholic Church in our own country suffers from much of the same malaise as post-War France, and do our thoughts of evangelization and catechesis demand a reexamination of the missionary process, an embrace of the Good News of Jesus as if for the first time? St. Patrick braved the seas to bring the Gospel to Ireland, not exactly the same thing as just treading water year after year. CONSTITUTION
ON THE SACRED LITURGY SACROSANCTUM CONCILIUM SOLEMNLY PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS POPE PAUL VI ON DECEMBER 4, 1963 64. The catechumenate for adults, comprising several distinct steps, is to be restored and to be taken into use at the discretion of the local ordinary. By this, means the time of the catechumenate, which is intended as a period of suitable instruction, may be sanctified by sacred rites to be celebrated at successive intervals of time. I have finally gotten back to the commentary on Sacrosanctum Concilium, one of the most important products of Vatican II [1962-1965] which established the philosophy and practice of worship in the Catholic Church as we know it today. I was more than a little chagrinned to discover that the last blog entry on Sacrosanctum Concilium appeared on August 8, 2018, over four months ago. Part of the interruption is due to my decision to usurp the Saturday stream for postings on the Pennsylvania Grand Jury report on clerical abuse in the Keystone State. I believe that the postings on Saturday ran for many weeks on that sad subject. But there have been about 60 postings over the last two years on Vatican II’s treatment of Catholic worship, and while a weekly post on Sacrosanctum Concilium might be overly ambitious, I would still like to see it through. As luck would have it, paragraph 64 introduces a subject of which many readers have some working understanding or experience, the process of adult formation for baptism, or the RCIA [Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults] as the process is popularly known today. The ancient church spoke of this process as the catechumenate, and the extended preparation is well documented in early church writings and architecture. If you prefer to enrich your understandings through compelling narratives rather than textbooks, the best description of the early catechumenate may be Font of Life: Ambrose, Augustine, and the Mystery of Baptism [2012] by Gary Wills. Wills, an excellent historian in his own right, describes the journey of Augustine [later the saint, bishop, and theologian of baptism] as a catechumen at the cathedral of Milan, where the future saint and Father of the Church Ambrose was the sitting bishop. This was no ordinary catechumenate, for aside from bringing Augustine into the Christian fold—much to his mother Monica’s relief—Ambrose was under relentless pressure from the Roman Emperor Theodosius on the matter of ultimate authority. The heresy of Arianism, which denied the divinity of Christ, was particularly strong in Milan despite the efforts of Ambrose. On the night of the Easter Vigil 387 A.D. Augustine and his illegitimate son were both baptized in Ambrose’s cathedral as Roman troops surrounded the church, threatening to kill everyone attending the Vigil and commandeering the church for Arian rites. The fact that Augustine was baptized in his late 30’s with his grown son gives us some insight into the Church’s thinking about the baptismal rite. At least through the first four centuries, the Church’s instinctual orientation was the baptism of adults. When the head of a household was baptized, he would bring his entire household into the fold, even his slaves. This reflects the culture of the times and the idea that baptismal conversion was not a snap decision but one that required a period of penance, learning, and gradual initiation into the things held dear by Christians, such as the biblical prayer “Our Father.” The theological emphasis of Ambrose’s day was the integrity of the conversion of Christ as a fully engaged way of life. It is one of the ironies of Catholic development that one of the Church’s most famous catechumens would in a generation or two create a different understanding of baptism, one that continues to impact our sacramental practice to this day. Augustine, now bishop of Hippo in North Africa, observed that after his own baptism he continued to be tempted to sin, as we all are. He speculated that the human species was born in sin, a term he refined as “original sin,” a spiritually deadly state inherited biologically from our first parents, Adam and Eve, who sinned in the garden by eating the forbidden fruit. [Genesis 2 ff.] From Augustine, then, came a new pastoral urgency for immediate baptism of infants. Augustine put greater emphasis upon the timeliness of baptism, immediately after birth if possible. The quality of the conversion was not ignored as much as postponed into later life in the church. Para. 64 calls for a return to the ancient practice of the protracted period of preparation for baptism of adults, including the liturgical rites that accompanied the venerable catechumenate such as the scrutinies. The paragraph leaves open the question of how long the catechumenate should last. When Abraham Lincoln was asked how long a man’s leg ought to be, he replied “long enough to reach the ground.” I suspect that some of Lincoln’s logic applies here: an adult is ready for baptism when his community judges he or she is prepared. In the United States the typical catechumenate [or RCIA] program runs for about a year, integrated into the liturgical calendar, and culminating at the Easter Vigil. But never assume that one year is the norm. Such famous converts such as Cardinal Newman and Thomas Merton wrestled with the decision for years. And from my own pastoral experience, I can recall instances where adults were baptism for less than optimal reasons. Before the new rite of the catechism was available to parishes, I was working one summer in the deep south when my boss/pastor baptized a man to help him with his serious alcoholism. Everyone’s intentions were pure, but the catechetical optics were poor. I had to leave that parish to attend summer school, so I could not follow up on the man’s circumstances, but I wondered what would happen if he returned to his drinking, which so often happens in substance abusing individuals. Would the baptized man have despaired of the love of God had he relapsed? One of the first principles of AA, incidentally, is the advice to avoid making major changes or decisions during one’s first year of recovery, aside from the basic commitment to abstain from alcohol one day at a time. Para. 64 is the first of several teachings of Sacrosanctum Concilium on the pastoral questions of baptisms, including circumstances where a convert has been previously baptized in another denomination, the customs of initiation in mission lands already established, infant baptisms and the role of the family and godparents, etc. But the imposition of para. 64 was a major theological turning point for Catholicism, for its emphasis is with the pre-Augustine pastoral concern for the integrity of the conversion. The “rush to baptize” would be called into question, gently but firmly; the idea being that the depth of the conversion experience strengthens the convert and his community for a richer life of communion with Christ. We haven't had much opportunity to return to a full examination of Sacrosanctum Concilium, the Second Vatican Council's decree on the reform of the sacred liturgy. I hope to remedy this omission before the end of the month. One of the criticisms of the contemporary Mass is the failure of reformers to give full attention to the spirit and directives regarding music. Popes Paul VI through Pope Benedict XVI have weighed in on Church music with instructions and clarifications. Two of their concerns come directly to mind: the idea that congregational singing would consist primarily of the parts of the Mass itself, and that at least some of the Mass would be sung in the Latin language as a sign of unity with the Church around the world.
For a number of reasons the United States as a whole never got the memo, and by the early 1970's the "four hymn sandwich" arrangement of Mass was set in concrete at the expense of the intentions of the Council. As I am away today, I am providing a link to the conservative Catholic publication Homiletic and Pastoral Review. HPR was originally written for priests but over my lifetime it has branched out to the dedicated Catholic reader across the board. I am not always at home with HPR's editorial stance, but in many instances it does cut to the core of the apple and provides good insight into the thinking of a sizeable number of Catholics. For al least the next two weeks I am directing all posting to the Sunday Stream to discuss the recent Pennsylvania report on clerical child abuse, including its implications for catechetics and Church/parish life. You can jump over to Sunday's stream by clicking here.
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LITURGY
March 2024
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