The Chair of St Peter: 22nd February 2022

I am always mystified by those priests who, in the celebration of the Feast of the Chair of St Peter, focus in their homily on how Christians today might react to the question asked of the disciples in the Gospel of today's Mass: "Who do people say the Son of Man is?" It is a nice pious thought for the edification of their congregation. 

But it misses the point that the feast that is being celebrated is determined, not by the question, but by how Jesus reacts to St Peter's answer to the question: "You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church".

The feast day celebrates the office of the successor of St Peter, and it escapes me why clergy seem to be so hesitant to preach on the nature of that office when it is the very subject of the feast day. 

There appear to me to be two aspects of the life of the Church in 2022 that make this feast day particularly relevant. 

Firstly, there is the Synodal Pathway that we have been invited to experience at the local, parish level at this time, and for which the first of three key themes is that of "communion". Ecclesial communion is a hierarchical communion, and particularly a communion with the bishop of the diocese and with the Pope. One measure of the action of the Holy Spirit in the Synodal Pathway is the extent to which it promotes this hierarchical communion rather than undermining it. It should draw us closer to the successor of St Peter, and not separate us from him.

Secondly, there is the excoriation of Pope Francis that can be heard from certain quarters. Whatever else one might say about it, and however "learned" it may appear, this certainly does not represent either an authentically Catholic stance nor a genuinely traditional one. The further away from the successor of St Peter one places oneself, so much further does one distance oneself from the heart of the Church. The celebration of the feast of the Chair of St Peter should give cause for considerable reflection in these quarters.

According to the Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church:

The Pope, bishop of Rome and the successor of St Peter, is the perpetual, visible source and foundation of the unity of the Church. He is the vicar of Christ, the head of the college of bishops and pastor of the universal Church over which he has by divine institution full, supreme, immediate and universal power.

There are a couple of nice observations from Pope Benedict XVI, in the early pages of his book length interview with Peter Seewald published as Light of the World. After observing that the faithful are not the employees or subordinates of the Pope, he writes:

... the Pope is, on the one hand a completely powerless man. On the other hand , he bears a great responsibility.

And commenting on the large number of Catholics in the world, and the suggestion that this makes him the most powerful Pope of all time, Pope Benedict writes:

Among those 1.2 billion Catholics are many who inwardly are not there. Saint Augustine said even in his day: There are many outside who seem to be inside, and there are many inside who seem to be outside. In a matter like faith - like membership in the Catholic Church - inside and outside are mysteriously intertwined with each other. 

The dangers of not defining the term "love"

 In times when the word "love" is often used in an ill-defined way, it is tempting to assimilate the teaching of the Gospel at Mass today (30th Sunday of the Year):

You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.... You must love your neighbour as yourself.

to the mantra of those who advocate for same-sex marriage:

We should be free to marry whoever we love.

Among Christians in general, the ability to answer this incorrect assimilation is undermined if there is no clear definition of what is meant by the term "love", and so there is a slide into an almost passive acceptance of same-sex unions through a lack of confidence as to how to argue against them.

The parish newsletter in the parish where I go to Mass opened with the following commentary on the words of the Gospel:

We are all surely familiar with these words. The question is, do we understand them, and do we live them? Before we can consider the three elements of this summary of the law (love of God, neighbour and self) we need to understand what love is, for we often mistake other things for love. Love is not just a feeling, though feelings certainly form part of it. Nor is it mere instinct or attraction, though these too play a part. Love, ultimately, is an act of the will – a choice. A choice for the good of another person, that takes priority over our own feelings, and is made without any thought to self -interest or personal gain. Put like this it sounds daunting, impossible even, but this kind of love is something we grow into, with God’s help, and our lives on earth are principally a preparation and training ground for the life of perfect unalloyed love which is heaven. 

The full newsletter, with its further commentary on the Gospel, can be found here - note that it will not be a permanent link, as the parish website only keeps recent newsletters. 

The homily I heard at Mass (from a priest covering from a neighbouring parish) was also interesting. In answering the question as to why it was love of God that was the first commandment, rather than love of neighbour, Father suggested that it was our need to experience love first that then enabled us to act in love towards others. As we come to appreciate and know just how much God has loved us, before we have loved him, then we grow in our ability to love others. 

But these words also have a resonance at the ordinary human level which Father did not develop.  Young people who do not have an experience of love in its true sense from their family backgrounds in their turn find it much harder (though it is not impossible) to love their neighbour, and to love a spouse and children in marriage. And we see this consequence in our societies today.

The commentary from the parish newsletter came to its conclusion with the following:

It is easy to overlook the last part: ‘love your neighbour as yourself’. Loving ourselves means accepting ourselves as God’s beloved son or daughter, and seeking our own good just as God does – that ‘good’ being a share in his life for eternity. Cut adrift from God and the notion of absolute truth and absolute values, many people in society today feel that it is necessary to affirm every choice as equally ‘good’. But God, as a good and loving father knows that not every choice is good for us. It is because God loves us, that he wants us to choose what is good whilst respecting our freedom to make good and bad choices. He affirms us but not every choice we make! Since God loves us, we can and must love ourselves. The three loves Jesus speaks of – God, neighbour, and self – are not in competition, for our supreme good, that of our neighbour, and God’s will, all coincide. 

All Saints

It seems to have become an unquestionable absolute that the homily at Mass should be based upon the Scripture readings - but the rubric actually reads (General Instruction n.65, with my italics added):

The Homily is part of the Liturgy and is highly recommended, for it is necessary for the nurturing of Christian life. It should be an explanation of some aspect of the readings from Sacred Scripture or of another text from the Ordinary or Proper of the Mass of the day and should take into account both the mystery being celebrated and the particular needs of the listeners.

So, for a feast like that of All Saints, it is quite legitimate to use the Liturgical texts other than the readings to explain exactly what it is that the feast celebrates. And this is an interesting exercise, and one that itself is not lacking in Scriptural reference.

From the Preface, which has a title in the Missal of "The glory of Jerusalem, our mother":

... today by your gift we celebrate the festival of your city, the heavenly Jerusalem, our mother ... Towards her we eagerly hasten as pilgrims advancing by faith ...

The proper prayers of the Mass also indicate an important characteristic of the Feast, namely that of our need for the intercession of the saints. The Prayer over the Offerings, for example:

May these offerings we bring in honour of all the Saints be pleasing to you, O Lord, and grant that, just as we believe the Saints to be already assured of immortality, so we may experience their concern for our salvation.

What is striking too is something that emerges from the hymns at Vespers and Lauds for the feast day. It is very apparent in the Latin hymns, rather less so but not absent from the hymns in the English "Liturgy of the Hours". These hymns refer in turn to the Virgin Mary, the angels, patriarchs and prophets, the apostles, martyrs and confessors, virgins and religious, in turn asking each category of saint to intercede for us.

I suspect that it is common place for the feast to be explained as a celebration of those who are in heaven but have not been formally declared saints by the Church - and it is certainly that. It may well refer to people whom we have known and who have lived their Christian vocation in a way that has inspired others - and I do feel that this "ordinary sanctity" of parish life can too often go unnoticed.

But the office hymns suggest challenging models of the road to sanctity followed by the saints. The celebration of the feast asks us to learn how these models can be lived in the contemporary world.  Those who live the married vocation in fidelity to Catholic teaching, for example, might well in future times be seen as confessors of the faith in their particular circumstances of life; current events in the Middle East also clearly show confessors and martyrs in the more usual sense.

All Saints is a good example of a feast day on which a homily limited to explaining  the Scripture readings will miss out important aspects of what the feast itself actually celebrates.

Evangelii Gaudium: comment on two snippets

Pope Francis observes (Evangelii Gaudium n.127), in connection with the idea that evangelisation necessarily involves inter-personal communication, that:

..... there is a kind of preaching which falls to each of us as a daily responsibility. It has to do with bringing the Gospel to the people we meet, whether they be our neighbours or complete strangers. This is the informal preaching which takes place in the middle of a conversation, something along the lines of what a missionary does when visiting a home. Being a disciple means being constantly ready to bring the love of Jesus to others, and this can happen unexpectedly and in any place: on the street, in a city square, during work, on a journey.

One can see the parallel to recruitment to a trade union. It is a bit of a mantra of trade union recruitment that "most people don't join a union because no-one has asked them". Similarly, the apostolate of a Catholic organisation such as the Legion of Mary draws heavily on creating opportunities for personal contact with those whom one wishes to bring to Christ. Pope Francis (Evangelii Gaudium n.128) gives a very useful exemplification of the form that this every day evangelisation might take.

But there is an intriguing, and quite un-developed, snippet in the next paragraph. Here Pope Francis brings the question of individual personal contact back to that of inculturation:

If the Gospel is embedded in a culture, the message is no longer transmitted solely from person to person. In countries where Christianity is a minority, then, along with encouraging each of the baptized to proclaim the Gospel, particular Churches should actively promote at least preliminary forms of inculturation.

What is un-developed here is that relation between person-to-person contact and that situation where there is a communication at a (community) cultural level. I suspect that a lot more could be made of how these two elements complement each other and arise from/inform each other. The hazard of an evangelisation that occurs exclusively at the level of culture, and does not penetrate to the level of the personal, is only too apparent in those countries of formerly-strong Catholic culture and weak Catholic practice in daily life. Likewise, person-to-person contact has to impact the culture, or it becomes just "what Catholics do in private on a Sunday".

The second snippet I wanted to comment on is taken from Pope Francis' lengthy treatment of the homily (Evangelii Gaudium nn.135-159). It can be found in n.146:

The first step, after calling upon the Holy Spirit in prayer, is to give our entire attention to the biblical text, which needs to be the basis of our preaching.

Pope Francis assumes that the homily will address the Biblical text(s) provided in the Scripture readings of the Mass of the day. This is an assumption shared by a whole generation of priests and, indeed, it would be wrong not to recognise that preaching on the given texts is just as much a feature of Pope Benedict XVI's homilies as it is of Pope Francis' homilies. However, the rubric (General Instruction on the Roman Missal nn.65-66) allows a wider range upon which the homily can be based (my emphasis added):

The Homily is part of the Liturgy and is highly recommended, for it is necessary for the nurturing of the Christian life. It should be an explanation of some aspect of the readings from Sacred Scripture or of another text from the Ordinary or the Proper of the Mass of the day and should take into account both the mystery being celebrated and the particular needs of the listeners....

On Sundays and Holydays of Obligation there is to be a Homily at every Mass that is celebrated with the people attending and it may not be omitted without a grave reason. On other days it is recommended, especially on the weekdays of Advent, Lent and Easter Time, as well as on other festive days and occasions when the people come to church in greater numbers.

In my own experience, the blind insistence that a homily must be preached at a weekday Mass, and that it must be about the Scripture readings of the day, leads to some of the most dire homilies I have ever heard (cf Pope Francis' comment that "We know that the faithful attach great importance to it, and that both they and their ordained ministers suffer because of homilies: the laity from having to listen to them and the clergy from having to preach them!" in Evangelii Gaudium n.135).  Pope Francis is quite right, I think, to devote the attention to the homily that he does in Evangelii Gaudium - an effective homily impacts greatly on the manner and depth of the participation of the faithful in the Liturgy, lifting it above the "rather average" that leaves them lukewarm.

It is particularly frustrating when one turns to the Collect for the saint being celebrated on the day and can recognise in its words the particular charism of that saint .... which would provide material for a much more useful and succinct homily than a vague wandering around a (more or less) obscure Biblical text. Likewise when one encounters the text of the Preface - yesterday evening, for example, Father used the proper Preface for Eucharistic Prayer 2 which, in the new English translation, provides a wonderful exposition of the core of Christian teaching ("kerygma"), and which is fascinating for its relevance to the idea of the new evangelisation that is the subject of Evangelii Gaudium. The second reading from the Office of Readings can also provide a useful alternative source for a homily.

I suspect that, if we look at his major homilies (rather than the daily homilies at Casa Santa Martha), we will find that Pope Francis widens his scope to move from the Scripture readings to the needs of the particular celebration. This seems to be what the "three words" structure of his preaching is about.

At a human level, I feel that when I am listening to a priest preaching a homily I am entitled to expect him to (a) have something genuinely worthwhile to say and (b) to have prepared properly how and what he is going to say. (I can recognise that I am atypical of most parishioners in my expectations here; but I do see others respond positively to the more "substantial" homily when it is delivered.) The clerical collar does not provide a particular privilege in this regard. When priests insist on preaching every day at Mass, and insist on that homily being about the Scripture readings of the day, it is only the most exceptional among them who will meet these two criteria day in and day out.

Pope Francis' "we"

No, I am not suggesting that Pope Francis has a "Wii" - I somehow can't see him playing tennis before his large screen TV in Casa Santa Marta each evening.

Nor am I really suggesting that he has reverted to the use of a "We" as a reference to himself in his exercise of the Papal office.

I have noticed, however, that Pope Francis does use an inclusive "we" in his homilies. See, for example, his homily on the Solemnity of the Epiphany.

What is of interest here is that, if Pope Francis not infrequently appears to be somewhat acidic in his criticism of attitudes unhelpful to Christian living, he does not exclude himself from that criticism. Even when that inclusion is not explicit, I think we should recognise that it is there.

Pope Francis' recent remarks about "smarmy priests" have caused some comment: with a certain historical and analytical background here, and just seeing them plainly as insults among many others being directed at the faithful, here. Like many of the remarks that are being perceived adversely by some commenters, these remarks were made during a homily at morning Mass in the Casa Santa Marta. The text of the Vatican radio report is here.

And if we read that report carefully, through to the end, we can see the Franciscan "we":

We priests have so many limits .....

We can also see something else. The somewhat acidic remarks are presented as a counter-example to Pope Francis positive exhortation to priests that they should build their life on a relationship with Christ (my emphasis added):

A true priest, he said, anointed by God for His people, has a close relationship with Jesus. When that relationship is missing, the priest becomes “smarmy,” [unctuous, It: unctuoso] an idolater, a worshiper of the “god Narcissus.”

This does not reduce the acidity of Pope Francis remarks, but does give them some context. I do think it is also the case that, with a background influenced by Communion and Liberation, Pope Francis has a vocabulary that is particularly unfamiliar to those of a more traditionalist background (cf his remarks about ideology some time ago).

I think, too, that when these kind of remarks are taken out of the context of the morning Mass at Casa Santa Marta they gain a definition and certainty of expression that may be lacking in the intent and original context - the relatively informal spoken word against the concretely defined written word. It is possible to make more of them than is really there to be made of them. I suspect that there is a linguistic issue in play, too. Pope Francis is preaching without script in Italian, which is not his first language; and he does not appear to have the strong language skills of his predecessor. It might well be the case that his use of Italian expressions is not as precise as it might be.

Whether this explains why Pope Francis speaks of "smarmy priests" in a way that clearly suggests that such priests exist, rather than just suggesting the danger of a priests becoming "smarmy".... it is difficult to tell.

If it is any consolation to priests who feel they have been insulted, I read these remarks that appear to have been made particularly about priests and recognised that they might also have application to the lay faithful - just as I thought Pope Francis' remarks to the Curia also had ready application to any lay person in their place of work. But I am not going to take it personally!

Homiletic thoughts for the Feast of the Holy Family

At Mass this morning, the celebrating priest abandoned his prepared homily in favour of sharing with the faithful some of Pope Paul VI's address given at Nazareth on 5th January 1964. An extract from this address forms the second reading of the Office of Readings for the feast day, and can be found at the Universalis website here; father had prayed it shortly before Mass. The full text, in the original French, can be found at the Vatican website here. Father used the Universalis English text which is, I understand, different in some respects from that printed in the books of the Divine Office used in England and Wales (cf Fr Lucie-Smith's comment here). Father shared with the faithful three lessons that Pope Paul VI indicated we could learn from the place of Nazareth:

First, we learn from its silence. If only we could once again appreciate its great value. We need this wonderful state of mind, beset as we are by the cacophony of strident protests and conflicting claims so characteristic of these turbulent times. The silence of Nazareth should teach us how to meditate in peace and quiet, to reflect on the deeply spiritual, and to be open to the voice of God’s inner wisdom and the counsel of his true teachers. Nazareth can teach us the value of study and preparation, of meditation, of a well-ordered personal spiritual life, and of silent prayer that is known only to God.

Second, we learn about family life. May Nazareth serve as a model of what the family should be. May it show us the family’s holy and enduring character and exemplify its basic function in society: a community of love and sharing, beautiful for the problems it poses and the rewards it brings, in sum, the perfect setting for rearing children – and for this there is no substitute.

 Finally, in Nazareth, the home of a craftsman’s son, we learn about work and the discipline it entails. I would especially like to recognise its value – demanding yet redeeming – and to give it proper respect. I would remind everyone that work has its own dignity. On the other hand, it is not an end in itself. Its value and free character, however, derive not only from its place in the economic system, as they say, but rather from the purpose it serves.

The second homiletic thought is from the "Day by Day" reading in Magnificat for today. It is part of an intervention by Liugi Giussani at a meeting on "The Fatherhood of God and Fatherhood in the Family" organised by the Pontifical Council for the Family in 1999. The full text was published in Communion and Liberation's magazine Traces in October 1999.

What can a father and mother wish more than to be able to look at and deal with their children with this gaze on what is human, in the imitation of Christ? Then, what is implied by the fact that a man and a woman want their union to be "blessed" by Christ and thus to become a Sacrament? This implies that the unity of their persons is understood and lived in function of God's Kingdom, and therefore of the human glory of Christ. Life itself is given us for this. The expression "human glory of Christ" means that the Mystery makes itself in some way visible, tangible, perceivable, experienceable because of a new reality that is created in its name.

The family is the locus of education in belonging, of education to the experience of fatherhood and, hence, of motherhood. In the family it is evident that the fundamental element in development of the person lies in the mutual, conjugated belonging of two factors: man and woman.

It is in the family that true belonging reveals itself as freedom, for true belonging is freedom. Freedom is that capacity to adhere-to the point of identification and assimilation-to what makes us be, to our Destiny, and it is made possible by our bond with it.

In ways that might not have been foreseen at the times at which these two speeches were first delivered, they both have a very striking relevance to the situation of the family after the widespread adoption of legislative proposals in favour of same-sex unions. It is probably also true that they reflect to a significantly lesser degree the actual experience of families today than at the times that they were delivered. However, even in those circumstances where family life is lived in a broken or imperfect way, it is nevertheless lived in an orientation towards the objective content and value of married/family life. In exercising the "catechetical moment" the Church can rightly offer the teaching of these two homiletic thoughts; and, in the accompanying "pastoral moment" that responds to the situation of individual families, the Church walks alongside and accompanies in practical and spiritual ways families that experience hardship and challenge.

Pope Francis on the homily

One might not expect humour in an Apostolic Exhortation, but Pope Francis does provide it. Here is what he has to say as part of his treatment of the homily in  Evangelii Gaudium nn.135 ff.:

We know that the faithful attach great importance to it, and that both they and their ordained ministers suffer because of homilies: the laity from having to listen to them and the clergy from having to preach them!

[My own experience suggests that homilies at every weekday Mass can add to this suffering, especially when there is an insistence on preaching on the Scripture readings of the day. Finding something significant to say is not easy, and tediousness too readily results. I am not sure how far Pope Francis example in this regard is one for others to follow.]

That Pope Francis takes the subject seriously, though, is indicated by the sentence which immediately precedes the above:

The homily is the touchstone for judging a pastor’s closeness and ability to communicate to his people.

and by the observations that follow it:

It is sad that this is the case. The homily can actually be an intense and happy experience of the Spirit, a consoling encounter with God’s word, a constant source of renewal and growth.

Let us renew our confidence in preaching, based on the conviction that it is God who seeks to reach out to others through the preacher, and that he displays his power through human words.

Pope Francis goes on to offer an extensive treatment of the art of preaching during the Liturgy, a treatment that is of considerable interest. He assumes that the homily will be on the Scripture readings, though the rubrics do allow the other Liturgical texts, or, indeed, the saint of the day, to be the subject of the homily. There is a particularly interesting reflection on the homily in its Liturgical context, seeing it as a moment in the dialogue between God and his people and oriented towards bringing both the preacher and the congregation to a communion with God in the Eucharist. Pope Francis is characteristically forthright when he concludes a paragraph asking pastors to prioritise giving time to preparing the Sunday homily, even if that means setting aside other activities, by saying:

Trust in the Holy Spirit who is at work during the homily is not merely passive but active and creative. It demands that we offer ourselves and all our abilities as instruments (cf. Rom 12:1) which God can use. A preacher who does not prepare is not "spiritual"; he is dishonest and irresponsible with the gifts he has received.

[It is worth noting that an unscripted homily is not necessarily an unprepared homily, though an unprepared homily will certainly be unscripted. I do not expect that Pope Francis homilies at morning Mass in the Casa Santa Marta are delivered without some preparation.]

Pope Francis: United in our differences ...

I have found it somewhat amusing (and that is probably not to my credit) to watch the Traditionalist minded in the Catholic blogosphere trying desparately to come to terms with Pope Francis' homily for the Solemnity of Sts Peter and Paul:

United in our differences: there is no other Catholic way to be united.

So, for example, Fr Ray observes that:

... like much of what he [ie Pope Francis] says there is often a great deal of ambiguity ..

and one of the comments on Fr Ray's post remarks that

... his [ie Pope Francis'] gift does not include precision of expressions of thought....

The Bones, after placing Pope Francis' words alongside those of Pope Benedict XVI speaking on a the same occasion a year ago, asks:

Does anyone detect a shift in emphasis?

I am amused by the sudden change from decrying perceived reluctance on the part of bishops and priests to do what they thought Pope Benedict wanted with regard to the Liturgy to a legitimising of disregard for the pastoral approach of Pope Benedict's successor, Pope Francis. It would appear that the idea of a "hermeneutic of continuity" has only lasted as long as it suited.

Now the "eastward gaze" of Pope Francis' homily becomes quite transparently obvious when it is placed alongside the address given the day before the Solemnity, to the delegation of the Ecumencial Patriarch of Constantinople, visiting Rome to join the celebration of the Solemnity. And the references to difference and to synodality gain their very specific, and not in the least big confusing or ambiguous character, from that "eastward gaze". In so far as it also has a "westward glance", the reference to the work of the Synod of Bishops - established after the Second Vatican Council as a continuing expression and realisation of collegiality rightly understood, and perhaps better characterised by the term "communion" - is equally un-problematic, though I had not previously taken cognisance of its ecumenical import in quite the way suggested here.

To confirm in unity: the Synod of Bishops, in harmony with the primate.

I do actually think that, like Pope Benedict XVI before him, Pope Francis has a quite exquisite and precise choice of phrase. It is different in style to that of Pope Benedict, but in an absolute continuity with it; it has been most apparent in some of the strap lines emerging from his homilies at the morning Mass in Domus Santa Martha. The following is from Pope Francis's homily for Sts Peter and Paul , with my italics added:

In the Church, variety, which is itself a great treasure, is always grounded in the harmony of unity, like a great mosaic in which every small piece joins with others as part of God’s one great plan.

... compared to Pope Benedict XVI's homily a year before (h/t to The Bones), again with my italics added and the suspicion that Pope Benedict was referring to a thought by Hans Urs von Balthasar:

we know that together we are all cooperators of the truth, which as we know is one and “symphonic”, and requires from each of us and from our communities a constant commitment to conversion to the one Lord in the grace of the one Spirit.

As an exercise in use of the communications media, the Traditionalist minded who have sought to undermine Pope Francis' homily in the blogosphere appear to me to have scored an enormous own goal. Apart from feeling that they simply haven't "got it" as far as the homily and Pope Francis in general goes (they need to move out from their own limited territory in order to achieve that), their broadcasting of what they think others will make of it has rather given the views of those others a huge boost.

[In the context of the discussion of Pope Francis' homily, there is a very sensible analysis of how we should understand Pope Francis here: Understanding Pope Francis.]

Preaching in the Year of Faith (or "is anyone listening?")

In the last few weeks, I have had two quite contrasting experiences of the homily at Mass. On one occasion I just wondered whether the priest preaching the homily actually believed anyone present was listening; body language in the congregation gave absolutely no confidence that anyone was, and I had long ago exhausted the possibilities of the "Meditations of the Day" in Magnificat, so I certainly wasn't (mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa). On another occasion, with a much larger congregation, the attentiveness to the homily was almost tangible; it felt as if you could almost touch it. Clearly, factors of place and circumstance will go some way to explaining why these two experiences were so radically different, but, equally clearly, in one the homily "wasn't working" and in the other it was.

In the context of the Year of Faith, the homily at Mass takes on a particular significance. For most Catholics, it is the "ordinary" way in which they receive an ongoing teaching about the content of the Catholic faith and about how that content is to be lived out in daily life. The Year of Faith asks us, if it isn't working, to look at the homily and ask why it isn't working.

It is some time now since I stopped feeling obliged to listen to homilies that lack substantial content or preparation, or are just a pedestrian re-statement of the Scripture readings; I will read a meditation from Magnificat instead or, if in an unfamiliar Church, reflect on the religious art portrayed in windows or images of the Church. Just looked at from a human point of view, if someone is going to stand up and speak to a congregation of which I am a part, I expect them to have something to say and I expect them to say it in a reasonably organised way. If they haven't got anything to say, be they a priest or not, they should not presume on my attentiveness. The privileging of the priest in this regard is an innate clericalism that I don't share.

The homily is a privileged occasion for the bishop or priest in that it is a most solemn exercise of their office as a teacher of the faith to those entrusted to their pastoral care. The liturgy does, after all, reserve the homily to the ordained ministry, and perhaps particularly to the designated pastor in a particular place. In that sense, the homily is not open to the critique that might be offered to an article in an academic journal, for example, or in a public debate. It is not a question of liking or disliking what one hears. But that does not absolve the priest from the obligation to bring to bear his purely human skills in preparing the homily, and failing to do so only undermines his exercise of his office.

According to n.65 of the General Instruction on the Roman Missal, in the revised English translation:

The homily is part of the Liturgy and is highly recommended for it is necessary for the nurturing of the Christian life. It should be an explanation of some aspect of the readings from Sacred Scripture or of another text from the Ordinary or the Proper of the Mass of the day and should take into account both the mystery being celebrated and the particular needs of the listeners.

I have added italics to indicate that n.65 suggests some five different sources on which the content of a homily might be based (though arguably some of them inter-relate strongly enough to say that they do not really constitute different sources). One of the major practical barriers to substance in homilies is the assumption that "the homily must be about the Readings" and the resulting rather pedestrian re-statement of the reading (though Pope Benedict XVI exemplifies time and again how a homily based on the Scripture Readings can both have substance and be more than just a re-stating of the reading, often doing this by making a connection between the reading and other parts in Scripture).
So, in the Year of Faith, I think it would be quite in order for a parish priest to:

preach week-by-week on the different articles of the Nicene Creed, or on the text of the Sanctus, etc
preach on the life and mission of the saint when celebrating the feast day of a saint
relate the Readings to how they are used in the Catechism (using the Scripture index of the Catechism to enable this)
teach on key Catholic doctrines (eg the office of the Successor St Peter, heaven) when the Liturgical occasion presents itself
make use of a source such as Magnificat for short meditations if preaching on a week day
be willing to look at Pope Benedict's homilies, or his volumes Jesus of Nazareth, for ideas

A final thought:

I wonder, do the clergy really recognise when their congregation are listening and when they are not?

"Nowhere in the gospel do we read that the star guided the wise men"

This post reproduces the message from the newsletter of St Patrick's Church, Soho Square, for the feast of the Epiphany, celebrated last Sunday. I saw it when I was checking Mass times for later today. St Patrick's website can be found here.

Today’s feast marks the end of the Christmas Season. Traditionally, the date of the Epiphany was fixed as January 6th  – the twelfth day of the Christmas Season but we celebrate the feast today. Two weeks ago we remembered the birth of Jesus Christ, God made man, born of the Virgin Mary. Today we celebrate the fact that his birth was not a private event to be enjoyed and shared by Mary and her close friends and family – rather his birth was to be shared and revealed to people throughout the world, over and over again.

The wise men travelled first to Jerusalem because they “saw his star as it rose…” They need help and advice. The star has temporarily disappeared and so they consult with King Herod and his advisors. When they leave him and resume their journey, they see the star once again. It’s reassuring presence is there to guide them once more. We don’t know for how long or for how many miles they travelled without the presence of the star, it may have been hidden from view simply because of heavy cloud cover, but they did not give up on their journey. Nowhere in the gospel do we read that the star guided the wise men. We only read that they “saw it as it rose...” and that “there in front of them was the star they had seen rising”.

In between these two occurrences they travelled blind, walking in darkness but never giving up. Like the wise men, we are on a journey. We watch as the priest raises the host at the consecration of the Mass. We are captivated by its simplicity and purity and are drawn forward. Here in our presence is the word made flesh. We partake of that flesh in communion but then the host is gone. We leave the security of the Church and sanctuary with the memory of the Elevation of the Host, just as the wise men drew strength from the sight of the star which they watched as it rose. Like the wise men we can expect to experience moments of darkness and insecurity. We are not sure if we are on the right path.

We seek guidance and help and then there is another fleeting glimpse of the light of God guiding us through life. We are not on a floodlit path but on a journey where momentary glimpses of the power and wonder of God will guide and sustain us.

The birth of Jesus at Christmas was a once and for all event. The feast of The Epiphany reminds us that that birth brought salvation to all people – including you and me, unworthy though we are. The journey we share is fraught with difficulty and sometimes, perhaps, even danger. It’s a journey that many have taken before us, and many more will follow in our footsteps. We pray with them all: “Lord, your light is strong, your love is near; draw us beyond the limits which the world imposes to the life where your Spirit makes all life complete.”

Of Bishops, a homily and a pastoral letter

It is unfortunate that the "championing" of a Bishop and his homily by one blog is matched by implicit criticisms of that Bishop and his homily on another blog [and by additional comment such as this that magnifies the positions represented by the two first posts out of all proportion]. I think that both of the posts, in their anxiety to be tendentious, make something of Bishop Davies' homily that is not there in the original. Try to read the report, and full text, on Shrewsbury Diocese's own website, without the filters provided by these two blog posts, and I hope you will see what I mean.

Bishop Davies' homily is a very lovely homily, full of references to the theme of Sunday Mass that will be familiar to anyone who has read Pope Benedict XVI's words on the same theme.

Yes, on the wettest, winter morning as the first generation of Christians put it and YouCat records their voices, “we cannot live without Sunday.”...

It isn’t the incidentals of music or style which draws or deters you from finding your way to Him. Those things may help or hinder us but they’re not why we’re ever here. We are here because we know in the words of St. John Vianney that “He is here, the One who loves us so much He is here.” May we find our way to Him where we know He will always be found.

The reference to a generation that has not handed on the fullness of the faith to those who are today the young? It is a glancing reference, not the centre of the homily at all, and we need to be careful not to read more into it than there is there to be read.

Another Bishop in another place has written a lovely pastoral letter. It's theme is not unrelated to that of Bishop Davies' homily, though delivered in a very different circumstance.

Create silence!’ There’s a challenge here. Surely speaking is a good and healthy thing? Yes indeed. Surely there are bad kinds of silence? Yes again. But still Kierkegaard is on to something.

There is a simple truth at stake. There can be no real relationship with God, there can be no real meeting with God, without silence. Silence prepares for that meeting and silence follows it. An early Christian wrote, ‘To someone who has experienced Christ himself, silence is more precious than anything else.’ For us God has the first word, and our silence opens our hearts to hear him. Only then will our own words really be words, echoes of God’s, and not just more litter on the rubbish dump of noise.

And one can detect Bishop Hugh's Benedictine background (with regard to the silence to be observed in the Oratory of the monastery) as he writes:

There is a time and place for speaking and a time and place for silence. In the church itself, so far as possible, silence should prevail. It should be the norm before and after Mass, and at other times as well. When there is a real need to say something, let it be done as quietly as can be. At the very least, such silence is a courtesy towards those who want to pray. It signals our reverence for the Blessed Sacrament. It respects the longing of the Holy Spirit to prepare us to celebrate the sacred mysteries.

In both Bishop Hugh's pastoral letter and Bishop Davies' homily there is a warmth of faith that communicates itself to the reader. And it is perhaps this that should be the subject of comment among Catholic blogs before anything else.

Year for Priests: Pope Benedict's homily for 11th June 2010

The text of the homily preached by Pope Benedict XVI at the Mass he concelebrated to mark the closing of the Year for Priests can be found here on the Vatican website. As I post, I have not studied it in its entirety, but have been struck by the following two points.

The first is the way in which Pope Benedict refers to the priesthood as a demonstration of the "audacity of God":

The priesthood, then, is not simply “office” but sacrament: God makes use of us poor men in order to be, through us, present to all men and women, and to act on their behalf. This audacity of God who entrusts himself to human beings – who, conscious of our weaknesses, nonetheless considers men capable of acting and being present in his stead – this audacity of God is the true grandeur concealed in the word “priesthood”. That God thinks that we are capable of this; that in this way he calls men to his service and thus from within binds himself to them: this is what we wanted to reflect upon and appreciate anew over the course of the past year. 

The second is the way in which Pope Benedict comments on the scandals of abuses by priests that emerged during and, in a certain sense, have been a feature of, the Year for Priests:

It was to be expected that this new radiance of the priesthood would not be pleasing to the “enemy”; he would have rather preferred to see it disappear, so that God would ultimately be driven out of the world. And so it happened that, in this very year of joy for the sacrament of the priesthood, the sins of priests came to light – particularly the abuse of the little ones, in which the priesthood, whose task is to manifest God’s concern for our good, turns into its very opposite. We too insistently beg forgiveness from God and from the persons involved, while promising to do everything possible to ensure that such abuse will never occur again; and that in admitting men to priestly ministry and in their formation we will do everything we can to weigh the authenticity of their vocation and make every effort to accompany priests along their journey, so that the Lord will protect them and watch over them in troubled situations and amid life’s dangers. Had the Year for Priests been a glorification of our individual human performance, it would have been ruined by these events. But for us what happened was precisely the opposite: we grew in gratitude for God’s gift, a gift concealed in “earthen vessels” which ever anew, even amid human weakness, makes his love concretely present in this world. So let us look upon all that happened as a summons to purification, as a task which we bring to the future and which makes us acknowledge and love all the more the great gift we have received from God. In this way, his gift becomes a commitment to respond to God’s courage and humility by our own courage and our own humility. The word of God, which we have sung in the Entrance Antiphon of the liturgy, can speak to us, at this hour, of what it means to become and to be priests: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble of heart” (Mt 11:29).

Pope Benedict's homily then goes on to reflect on the texts of the Liturgy for the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart, particularly Psalm 23.

Benedict XVI's Christmas Eve homily

Other bloggers, with a primarily Liturgical intent in doing so, have highlighted a passage from this homily in which Pope Benedict urges his listeners to put the things of God first in their lives, quoting from the Rule of St Benedict:

The Gospel tells us: God is the highest priority. If anything in our life deserves haste without delay, then, it is God's work alone. The Rule of Saint Benedict contains this teaching: "Place nothing at all before the work of God (i.e. the divine office)". For monks, the Liturgy is the first priority. Everything else comes later. In its essence, though, this saying applies to everyone. God is important, by far the most important thing in our lives. The shepherds teach us this priority. From them we should learn not to be crushed by all the pressing matters in our daily lives. From them we should learn the inner freedom to put other tasks in second place -- however important they may be -- so as to make our way towards God, to allow him into our lives and into our time. Time given to God and, in his name, to our neighbour is never time lost. It is the time when we are most truly alive, when we live our humanity to the full.

However, as usual with Pope Benedict XVI, it is worth reading the whole homily. The full text can be found here at ZENIT. What the Holy Father does in his homily is take the shepherds of the Christmas story as an example of how we should respond to the invitation that God puts forward to us, not only in the mystery of the Incarnation, but also in the signs of his presence in our lives. It is the urgency and promptness of their response to the invitation to go to Bethlehem that Pope Benedict proposes as an example for us to follow. Whilst the passage in which he refers to the Liturgy and our Christian response in charity to our neighbour (cf the two part treatment of Deus Caritas Est - first God's love for us and our call to love God, and then, inseperable from it, our call to love of our neighbour) is most immediately addressed to those who might be called "practising Christians", other passages are addressed to those who might be non-Christian or lukewarm in their Christian practise.

In the second paragraph there is a call to adherence to the truth, another typical Benedictine them:

The first thing we are told about the shepherds is that they were on the watch -- they could hear the message precisely because they were awake. We must be awake, so that we can hear the message. We must become truly vigilant people. What does this mean? The principal difference between someone dreaming and someone awake is that the dreamer is in a world of his own. His "self" is locked into this dreamworld that is his alone and does not connect him with others. To wake up means to leave that private world of one's own and to enter the common reality, the truth that alone can unite all people. Conflict and lack of reconciliation in the world stem from the fact that we are locked into our own interests and opinions, into our own little private world. Selfishness, both individual and collective, makes us prisoners of our interests and our desires that stand against the truth and separate us from one another.

Pope Benedict goes on to talk about man's receptivity to God:

Awake, the Gospel tells us. Step outside, so as to enter the great communal truth, the communion of the one God. To awake, then, means to develop a receptivity for God: for the silent promptings with which he chooses to guide us; for the many indications of his presence. There are people who describe themselves as "religiously tone deaf". The gift of a capacity to perceive God seems as if it is withheld from some. And indeed -- our way of thinking and acting, the mentality of today's world, the whole range of our experience is inclined to deaden our receptivity for God, to make us "tone deaf" towards him. And yet in every soul, the desire for God, the capacity to encounter him, is present, whether in a hidden way or overtly.

The section of the homily that caught my eye, however, was one in which Pope Benedict suggests that the shepherds "went over" to see the Christ child at Bethlehem rather as if they were going to visit a neighbour (my italics added, because I was very attracted by this sentence - not that I think it applies to me!).

Some commentators point out that the shepherds, the simple souls, were the first to come to Jesus in the manger and to encounter the Redeemer of the world. The wise men from the East, representing those with social standing and fame, arrived much later. The commentators go on to say: this is quite natural. The shepherds lived nearby. They only needed to "come over" (cf. Lk 2:15), as we do when we go to visit our neighbours. The wise men, however, lived far away. They had to undertake a long and arduous journey in order to arrive in Bethlehem. And they needed guidance and direction. Today too there are simple and lowly souls who live very close to the Lord. They are, so to speak, his neighbours and they can easily go to see him. But most of us in the world today live far from Jesus Christ, the incarnate God who came to dwell amongst us.

And, to try to summarise, using two passages, one from near the beginning and one from near the end of Pope Benedict's homily:

For you the Saviour is born: through the Gospel and those who proclaim it, God now reminds us of the message that the Angel announced to the shepherds. It is a message that cannot leave us indifferent. If it is true, it changes everything. If it is true, it also affects me. Like the shepherds, then, I too must say: Come on, I want to go to Bethlehem to see the Word that has occurred there. The story of the shepherds is included in the Gospel for a reason. They show us the right way to respond to the message that we too have received.....

Let us once again listen directly to the Gospel. The shepherds tell one another the reason why they are setting off: "Let us see this thing that has happened." Literally the Greek text says: "Let us see this Word that has occurred there." Yes indeed, such is the radical newness of this night: the Word can be seen. For it has become flesh. The God of whom no image may be made -- because any image would only diminish, or rather distort him -- this God has himself become visible in the One who is his true image, as Saint Paul puts it (cf. 2 Cor 4:4; Col 1:15). In the figure of Jesus Christ, in the whole of his life and ministry, in his dying and rising, we can see the Word of God and hence the mystery of the living God himself. This is what God is like.

The Sacrament of Marriage - Homily for 4th October

Just in case you didn't get a homily today that quite caught what the readings were really about - try Deacon Pat Kearns homily for today. An extract which shows a very perceptive pastoral sense, but do follow the link and read the whole to put the extract into a full context:

I am saddened to say that many have left the church, or neglect the communion of Jesus due to a divorce and remarriage, yet they have not taken any steps to resolve this issue with the church. There are many misconceptions regarding what can and cannot be repaired. Neither God, nor the church would ever want to push anyone away, rather just the opposite. Mercy and Love are God’s greatest gifts. If you or someone you know, has endured a divorce and remarried outside of the church, and has a desire to return to full communion, please don’t hesitate to contact one of the Priests or Deacons and begin the process of repair. It is our greatest desire and would be our honor to assist you with reuniting with the church and the Sacraments.

Pentecost Mass in Syracuse, Sicily

We had the rather nice experience of attending Mass for Pentecost Sunday at a Marian Shrine, the Shrine of Our Lady of Tears in Syracuse. Following the links under "History" from the home page will lead you to pages telling the events of the lachrymation, events which have received the approval of the meeting of the Bishops of Sicily:

The Sicilian Episcopate, presided by Ernesto Card. Ruffini on December 12, 1953 declared the Lachrymation of Mary in Syracuse authentic: “The reality of the lachrymation cannot be put into doubt.”

“The Bishops of Sicily, reunited for the customary Conference in Bagheria (Palermo), after hearing the full report of His Excellency Ettore Baranzini, Archbishop of Syracuse, about the “lachrymation” of the image of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, repeatedly happening in the days of 29, 30, 31 August and 1 September of this year, in Syracuse (11 Via degli Orti St.) and having examined attentively the relative testimonies of the original documents, have unanimously concluded that the reality of the lachrymation cannot be put into doubt.

“They hope that this manifestation of our heavenly Mother stir all to healthy penance and to a more lively devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, encouraging the urgent building of a Shrine to perpetuate the memory of the miracle.”

The architecture of the shrine reminds an English visitor of a certain Cathedral in Liverpool, known as "Paddy's wigwam", but I do think the comparison is unfair (to the shrine in Syracuse, that is). Do follow the links from this page of the shrine website to get a full idea of what the shrine is like. The vertical glass windows between each concrete upright produces a very effective lighting of the space of the upper shrine, there being no artificial lighting of the main area of the congregation during the day time.

The shrine is visited by pilgrimage groups - one parish group from Messina was there for the Mass we attended. We were treated to an instructive homily during Mass - Pentecost as the giving of the new law of love in our hearts (the Jewish feast with which it coincides is that marking the gift of the tablets of the law to Moses); the tongues in which all people could understand the preaching of the apostles being that of a divine language of love (contrasted to the division of tongues represented by the tower of Babel); the flames and wind representing a new presence of God (cf the burning bush of the Old Testament); the sending out of the Church on a mission of evangelisation (compared to the Jewish people making their journey out from Egypt towards the promised land); this Holy Spirit is also received by us in Baptism and Confirmation so we are called to live out today all of these implications of Pentecost; this we do in the company of Mary, and following her example, that points always to her Son, and, in Him, to the Father and the Spirit.

PS: Compared to most other Churches in Sicily, this one has a very big architectural advantage, even if one is inclined to dislike concrete as a building material. That advantage is its complete lack of baroque style ....

Homily Agony .....

O I do hope that the Holy Father takes up the suggestion of a "Year of Preaching", made by one of the Bishop's at the Synod. I was this evening [not in my home parish, incidentally, so I am protecting the anonymity of the guilty party] subjected to a homily that went off up a side alley, and then persisted in meandering around it well beyond the time that, at a political party conference, the red light would have gone on and the microphone been switched off ....

Now there is certainly an inappropriate way for the laity to criticise the parish priest's homily - especially if it has been that bit too "relevant" to their situation and challenged them in their living of the Christian life - and any criticism should not constitute an attack or attempt to undermine the parish priest. Criticism should also be offered courteously. But, on the other hand, there is a certain rightful accountability to which I think a parish priest can be held by his parishioners. A basic justice that a parish priest owes to his hearers is to decide properly what he wants to say, and to undertake a basic level of preparation of it, before he arrives at the ambo or pulpit; and then to resist any temptation to meander off ........

At Mass the lay faithful are rather a captive audience, and I can't help but feel that that is sometimes open to abuse by a parish priest.

On a more positive point. How often do parish priests ask their parishioners what they would like them to preach about? If the homily is intended to meet the pastoral needs of the hearers, this seems a fairly basic way of the parish priest trying to achieve that. It doesn't mean that he has to say what the punters want to hear, but he can at least try to address their anxieties.

I tried this some years ago when I was asked to give a talk to the parents of the children making their first Holy Communion in the parish. I (innocently, in teacher mode) assumed that the parish priest would have an idea of a topic to fit in with his programme of four parents sessions. "Oh, anything you like" was the unhelpful reply from him. So off I went to do my market research among the parents. I did get some useful pointers from one parent, and the following gem from another, this latter in the foyer of our local Sainsbury's, on a Saturday morning, in rather a loud voice: "Oh, sex, drugs and rock and roll". I didn't at the time, but now wish I had gently pointed out that I was too young to remember those days ...

If you want to know what I actually said, read "The Presence of Jesus in the Family" in FAITH Magazine May/June 2003. The talk as delivered wasn't quite as academic as the write up of it, particularly the section about the Liturgy.

Nostalgia ...

... or, remembering the days when I was young enough to qualify for World Youth Day. Except that they hadn't been invented then.

I am undertaking a big clean/cull of the bookshelves and office at the moment. A lot is being thrown out, though I must admit to having a little pile of "things to scan before throwing away". This afternoon I came across a type script - yes, from a typewriter, not from a printer - of a homily preached at the chaplaincy of Oxford University on 27th May 1979.

The Church and the World.
Official Sermon of Fr George Pell at the Catholic Chaplaincy, Oxford, 27th May 1979.

In choosing a single sentence to summarise the homily, I am not doing justice to the balance of the whole and to the underlying analysis of the situation of the Church and of the world, but here goes:

What I am saying is that we are in a battle situation, and that the wholesale dismantling of the Catholic tradition is pastorally disastrous.

Fr George Pell was an Australian priest, staying at Campion Hall in Oxford for a year of studies. A number of us running the Oxford University Newman Society at the time got to know him - I think he gave a talk to the society at one point. We were what one might describe as "being on the same wavelength".

Now, I wonder what happened to Fr Pell after his return to Australia?

Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes

I have just returned from a visit to the parish of Our Lady of Lourdes and St Joseph, in Leigh- on- Sea, Essex. They have this evening celebrated a sung Mass for their patronal feast day, and to mark the 150th anniversary of the apparitions at Lourdes. The picture shows the shrine to Our Lady of Lourdes in the Church. Mass was celebrated with due solemnity. I particularly enjoyed the singing of the Lourdes setting of the Ave Verum at Communion.

The parish priest has arranged a "listen again" function on the parish website. You can download Sunday homilies as podcasts. Follow the links to the "podcasts" from the homepage of the site. What would be interesting is to know how many downloads the homilies get ...