Moving

to here.

Cluelessness

The ridiculously named Unreasonable Faith demonstrates how alien morals are to him:

Did you know you can stump anti-abortionists with one simple question? Just ask them this: If abortion was illegal, what should be done with the women who have illegal abortions? Now watch their faces

No, don’t watch my face; watch my lips. The answer is what is done with any mother who murders her own child.

This amoral twit seems to think this is some sort of a brainteaser. It is not. Murder is murder, and murder just to make your life more convenient is more heinous than murder in the heat of passion. Women who murder their children are murderers, and they should be prosecuted for murder.

Period.

The Enthronement Speech

Of Metropolitan Jonah after being elected as Primate of the Orthodox Church in America. The Metropolitan is an American convert to Orthodoxy.

Link.

Strange Places, Part 1

There seems to be a lot of interest in Eastern Christianity among Catholic blogs, which I am unable to grasp entirely, given that most Catholics don’t even know that Eastern Rite Catholics (or the Orthodox) exist. Of course, the oblivion is understandable; for every Eastern Rite parish, there are at least a thousand Latin Rite parishes, and Eastern Rite Catholics are limited to a few areas in the US.

Pennsylvania is one of the few states where there are, at least comparatively, a great many Eastern Christians, both Eastern Rite Catholics and Orthodox. There are six Byzantine Catholic parishes in Indiana, and one hundred and twenty here in Pennsylvania, and that doesn’t count the Melkites or Ukrainian Catholics, both of whom are well represented here (and there are even more Orthodox than Eastern Rite Catholics in Pennsylvania, mostly Slavs who immigrated here to work the coal mines and the steel mills). Yet even here, they are the forgotten stepchild of the Church.

This is surely, at least in part, because the Eastern Rite Catholics have far more in common with the Orthodox than they do the Latins. They use the Liturgies of St. John Chrysostom and St. Basil, so are liturgically identical, or nearly so, to the Orthodox, and strange to the Latins.^{1, 2}  They follow the same liturgical calendar as the Orthodox, and not the Latins.³  Go to the official Byzantine Catholic Church webpage and peruse the sources and conversations on the forum: They’re indistinguishable from the Orthodox.¹   (The English text of the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom as used by the Byzantine Catholic Church is here; the Orthodox, and other autonomous Eastern Rite Catholic churches use the same liturgy, but each its own translation. If you’re interested in the liturgical music, you can view the Byzantine chants here, and listen here. As with the liturgical translation, each group has its own system of chants, although all have eight tones, which correspond to the modes of the western Gregorian chants.)

Some churches have been architecturally Latinized. A fair number, for example, contain pews, which never developed in the East, and not until relatively recently in the West. I have been in one Greek Orthodox church (St George in Knoxville, Tennessee) with an organ (instrumental music was never allowed in Eastern Christianity, and does not occur in most Eastern parishes). The forced westernization of Russia by Peter the Great bled over into the church, and what are today traditional Slavic icons look more West than East. The Slavs were also the only group of Eastern Christians to allow polyphonic liturgical music, and is today the only Eastern polyphonic system of chant (though technically, they aren’t chants); however, many parishes of other jurisdictions use Slavic liturgical music.

Extra-liturgical sacred music, however, does not exist in Eastern Christianity. There are no hymns. There is only the chanted liturgy. Both Rachmaninoff and Tchaikovsky wrote liturgical music, but “wrote” is an overstatement. Had they composed the music, it would not be allowed to be performed. They rewrote the harmonies, but left the tones intact, as they were required to do. There is no Eastern equivalent of the Missa Solemnis.

The whole Divine Liturgy, and the Divine Services, are chanted, and all but the smallest parishes have choirs. If you are a Western Christian, Catholic or Protestant, you are probably visualizing the “passive” worship of Roman Catholics prior to 1970, understandable, but incorrect. This “passsive” worship never developed in the East. Members of the congregation chant along with the choir (or in a parish too small to have a choir, alone), except for the equivalent of the Propers. The Old Testament, Epistle, and Gospel readings are chanted. The only thing that is not chanted in an Eastern liturgy is the homily.

Eastern worship is more physical than Catholic, and far more physical than Protestant, worship. Eastern Christians do not genuflect, but have three worshipful actions that roughly correspond.

There is the bow, in which one lowers his head, often while making the Sign of the Cross. Eastern Christians typically bow when censed or blessed by the priest (and if you’re curious, cross themselves from right to left to mirror the priest, who makes the Sign of the Cross from left to right). There is the metanoia, performed most often when reverencing icons, where one crosses himself, then bends at the waist and lets the fingers of his right hand brush the floor, and then rises; the metanoia is always performed three times in succession, and reverencing icons involves making the metanoia twice, then kissing the icon, then making the third metanoia. Finally, there is the full prostration, in which one falls to one’s kees, places his hands before his knees on the floor, then touches his forehead to the floor, and rises (because Christ arose from the dead). Eastern Christians do not kneel, save during certain liturgies in Lent. There is certainly nothing “passive” about Eastern worship, and to an Eastern Christian, most Western worship seems “passive.”

Eastern Christians are liturgically conservative to an extent most Western Christians would find at least odd, if not a bit disturbing. This is partly because Western Christians view liturgy as a superficiality, whereas Eastern Christians see it as the fullness of the communal church, and the expression of the apostolic faith. The East also has far more laity who are fascinated by theology, a distinctive feature of the East that has existed back to the earliest days of the Church. Eastern Christians view prayer, liturgy, and theology as inseperable parts of one whole, the expression of the apostolic faith, and many can discuss at great length the disctinctions between the monophysite and monothelite heresies, or can discuss the seven Ecumenical Councils in detail. You are unlikely to find a practicing Eastern Christian who needs to look at a book to remember the Nicene Creed, or the Divine Liturgy as a whole, and many Eastern parishes have no equivalent of the Missal(ette) available in the church. There is a whole discussion on the Byzantine forum devoted to whether “and became a man” in the newest translation introduces heresy into the Nicene Creed, and whether there is, in fact, a theological distinction between “and became man,” “and became a man,” and “and became a human being,” and what heresies the re-translations do or do not introduce. You’re unlikely to ever see this kind of discussion on a Catholic forum, and even less likely to see it on a Protestant forum. Whereas heresy is a somewhat quaint and outdated concept in the West, save among the most traditional and conservative, and most of those Catholics, it is a very important, living concept in Eastern Christianity. Even the slightest deviation from the apostolic faith is taken very seriously.

Consequently, no “liturgical modernization” movement has ever taken hold in Eastern Christianity, nor is it likely to. An “updated” translation of the Divine Liturgy has been published by the Byzantine Catholic Church, but no parish is required to use it, and from what I have seen, very few do.

The truly fundamental differences between East and West aren’t theological, but philosophical. These distinctions are numerous, and I cannot tackle them all, at least not in one post. But I can tackle one or two here, both of which partly are due to historical reasons.

In both the West and East, the hierarchy and monasteries maintained a tense, often oppositional, relationship. In the West, this problem was (mostly) solved by allowing monasteries to be autonomous, as they are today, subject to their own heirarchies, answerable only to the Vatican. The result was that over time, monasteries became more and more separated from the rest of the church, and lost what influence they had once held. Today, we see this in the fact that few Catholic churches regularly offer the Liturgy of the Hours, or in the softened expectations of the laity.

This would not have been a solution in the East, where no strong central authority had developed, and monasteries had always been autonomous. In the East, the monastics usually won the struggle, and gained even more power in the church (to this day, Eastern bishops are chosen from the monasteries). The monastic tradition of Christianity as a rigorous, daily struggle was cemented into the life of the church, so that even today, Eastern Christians observe a fast approximately half the year. In Eastern Christianity, the equivalent of the Liturgy of the Hours, the Divine Services, are chanted in the parish. When a Western Christian tells me he is going to an Eastern church, I always tell him to wear the most comfortable shoes he owns, no matter what they look like: Serious, practicing Eastern Christians spend many more hours in church than their Western counterparts, and even not counting Matins before, Divine Liturgy will run close to an hour and a half. And the shoes? Well, most Eastern churches have no pews, so unless you’re going to sit on the floor, like everybody does during the homily, you stand. You’ll soon find why all of those people are gently rocking back and forth.

Eastern churches are forbidden by Canon Law to offer more than one Divine Liturgy per day at the same altar, and anticipatory liturgies are non-existant.

A word about differing church etiquette, only because Westerners, particularly Catholics or high church Episcopalians, are likely to find it a bit disconcerting. The concept of “on time” doesn’t appear to have developed in the East. The parish here, for example, begins Sunday Matins at 9 o’clock (Matins lasts about an hour and runs directly into Divine Liturgy, that is, there is no break between the two), and Divine Liturgy is over anywhere from 12:15 to 12:30. Matins begins on time, but Eastern Christians feel no compusion to arrive on time. If you go at 9 o’clock, you may be one of only fifteen or so there; people arrive when they arrive, and nobody notices or pays them any mind, because, well, that’s the way it is (typically, the church is packed by the time Divine Liturgy starts, and most arrive during Matins).

When Catholics arrive, they genuflect, then kneel in prayer. If Catholics arrive after Mass has begun, most will participate with the rest of the congregation, that is, not kneel in prayer. This is in direct opposition to the East.

When Eastern Christians arrive, no matter what is going on in the church, they reverence the icons, then find someplace to stand (there are no pews). Eastern worship seems a bit messy as a result to Western Christians, at least until everyone is there. Also, different jurisdictions have different customs, and many Eastern parishes in the US are pan-ethnic, so you will see different people crossing themselves a different number of times (once or thrice), performing menaions at different times, and doing different things in general. It’s rather silly to worry about doing what everyone else is doing, since everyone else isn’t doing the same thing.

If you are not Orthodox, you may not commune. However, the Eucharist is taken a great deal more seriously in the East than in the West. For one thing, many Eastern Christians do not commune every Sunday. More importantly, the Eastern priest takes his duty as the guardian of the chalice far more seriously than his Western counterpart. Even if you are a Roman Catholic at an Eastern Rite liturgy, do not approach unless you have first talked with the priest, who may require you to make a confession first. I cannot stress this enough. And make sure you ask the priest, if it is your first time, how you should commune; in the East, the (leavened) bread is mixed with the wine and hot water in the chalice, and the priest places it on your tongue with a spoon (photo here). It’s very different, and even if you may commune, check with the priest about how before you do. Eastern priests expect not only regular confession, but regular attendance, and most Eastern priests do not consider only every Sunday regular attendance. Both the Byzantine and Orthodox priests here expect attendance at Vespers as well as Matins and Liturgy on Sundays. The Orthodox parish offers Vespers and confessions every Wednesday and Saturday evening, and the priest expects attendance on Wednesday evenings, as well as Holy Days, in order to receive the Eucharist. Both priests require regular confessions.

Eastern Christian homes typically contain shrines, as Roman Catholic homes typically did before the Protestantization of the church in 1970. Many Eastern Christians have a daily cycle of prayers, often the Divine Services (the equivalent of the Liturgy of the Hours), and the Jesus Prayer. These prayers are offered in front of the shrine. Eastern Christian homes (and businesses) are blessed by the priest in the weeks following Theophany.

Another distinction which I will touch on, and elaborate further in a later post, is that Eastern Christianity is masculine, while Western Christianity is feminine. Frederica Mathewes-Green, who converted to Orthodoxy from Protestantism, has discussed this at length, but for now, let’s take her article, Men and Church.

In a time when churches of every description are faced with Vanishing Male Syndrome, men are showing up at Eastern Orthodox churches in numbers that, if not numerically impressive, are proportionately intriguing. This may be the only church which attracts and holds men in numbers equal to women. As Leon Podles wrote in his 1999 book, The Church Impotent: The Feminization of Christianity, “The Orthodox are the only Christians who write basso profundo church music, or need to.”

Rather than guess why this is, I emailed a hundred Orthodox men, most of whom joined the Church as adults. What do they think makes this church particularly attractive to men? Their responses, below, may spark some ideas for leaders in other churches, who are looking for ways to keep guys in the pews.

 

The term most commonly cited by these men was “challenging.” Orthodoxy is “active and not passive.” “It’s the only church where you are required to adapt to it, rather than it adapting to you.” “The longer you are in it, the more you realize it demands of you.” 

The “sheer physicality of Orthodox worship” is part of the appeal. Regular days of fasting from meat and dairy, “standing for hours on end, performing prostrations, going without food and water [before communion]…When you get to the end you feel that you’ve faced down a challenge.” “Orthodoxy appeals to a man’s desire for self-mastery through discipline.” 

“In Orthodoxy, the theme of spiritual warfare is ubiquitous; saints, including female saints, are warriors. Warfare requires courage, fortitude, and heroism. We are called to be ‘strugglers’ against sin, to be ‘athletes’ as St. Paul says. And the prize is given to the victor. The fact that you must ‘struggle’ during worship by standing up throughout long services is itself a challenge men are willing to take up.”        

A recent convert summed up, “Orthodoxy is serious. It is difficult. It is demanding. It is about mercy, but it’s also about overcoming oneself. I am challenged in a deep way, not to ‘feel good about myself’ but to become holy. It is rigorous, and in that rigor I find liberation. And you know, so does my wife.” 

 

 

What draws men to Orthodoxy is not simply that it’s challenging or mysterious. What draws them is the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the center of everything the Church does or says.

In contrast to some other churches, “Orthodoxy offers a robust Jesus” (and even a robust Virgin Mary, for that matter, hailed in one hymn as “our Captain, Queen of War”). Several used the term “martial” or referred to Orthodoxy as the “Marine Corps” of Christianity. (The warfare is against self-destructive sin and the unseen spiritual powers, not other people, of course.)

One contrasted this “robust” quality with “the feminized pictures of Jesus I grew up with…I’ve never had a male friend who would not have expended serious effort to avoid meeting someone who looked like that.” Though drawn to Jesus Christ as a teen, “I felt ashamed of this attraction, as if it were something a red-blooded American boy shouldn’t take that seriously, almost akin to playing with dolls.”

A priest writes: “Christ in Orthodoxy is a militant, butt-kicking Jesus who takes Hell captive. Orthodox Jesus came to cast fire on the earth. (Males can relate to butt-kicking and fire-casting.) In Holy Baptism we pray for the newly-enlisted warriors of Christ, male and female, that they may ‘be kept ever warriors invincible.’”

After several years in Orthodoxy, one man found a service of Christmas carols in a Protestant church “shocking, even appalling.” Compared to the Orthodox hymns of Christ’s Nativity, “‘the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay’ has almost nothing to do with the Eternal Logos entering irrevocably, inexorably, kenotically, silently yet heroically, into the fabric of created reality.”

All of this is absolutely true. Much has been writtten about the feminization of Christianity, but few have mentioned that this feminization was wholly a Western phenomenon. The Eastern Christ is the Pantocrator, the Almighty Ruler of the Universe, who battled Satan and to quote from the Divine Liturgy, “trampled down Death by death.” The concept of the passive, sweet Christ does not exist in the East. Christianity is seen as our battle against Evil. Eastern Christianity is difficult and rigorous, and this appeals to Christian men. Eastern Christianity is also fundamentally and intensely conservative in its approach to the faith, and how we must live it daily, not by doing good works alone or primarily, but by praying, fasting, and being an active part of our parish. You will never hear discussions about how one “feels” in an Eastern Christian parish.

I will return to this topic later, because there is much to be said about the fundmental masculinity of Eastern Christianity. I suggest that if this interests you, you should read Frederica Mathewes-Green’s blog. She has much to say on this topic.

Finally, if you are a Roman Catholic and you want to attend an Eastern Rite parish, all you have to do is go. The Eastern Rite churches are sui juris, that is, autonomous, with their own hierarchies, but you are not required to do anything to worship there, or partake of the Eucharist (see above). However, if you want to become a member of an Eastern Rite parish, tell the priest you want to change jurisdictions, particularly if you may have another child. Eastern Christians chrismate (confirm) children immediately after baptism, and all chrismated Christians may partake of the Eucharist. Changing jurisdictions avoids confusion about whether your child has been chrismated, or confirmed.

In the 80s, the Antiochian Orthodox Church accepted a number of whole Episcopalian congregations, and established a Western Rite. If you are an Episcopalian who has reached the breaking point, this is one option. Check the web page for the Antiochian diocese (see the blogroll). 

That’s enough for the first intallment. Blessed be God!

 

—–

¹ To western eyes, I should say. While there are few, if any, substantial liturgical differences between the Eastern Rite Catholics and their Orthodox brethren, there are differences in practice. The Orthodox typically have Vespers at the church every Saturday evening, often with confession afterwards, and Matins precedes, and runs directly into, Divine Liturgy on Sundays, whereas the Eastern Rite Catholics are less likely to offer either Vespers or Matins. 

² There has been a small amount of Latinization in the Byzantine Catholic Church, certainly. They kneel during the Prayers of Consecration, and use the filioque clause in the Nicene Creed. Predictably, because Eastern Christians are exceedingly conservative about their Faith, some are not happy about it (there is a whole thread devoted to it here), although there is a gradual purging of liturgical Latinisms. But the overall point still stands, that they are far closer to the Orthodox than they are the Latins.

³ I don’t refer here to the Gregorian v. Julian calendar differences, nor to the calculation of the date of Easter (which in the East, must fall after Passover; hence, the usual difference between Western and Eastern Easter, or Pascha. I am referring to the Liturgical Calendar. Eastern Christians celebrate Theophany, not Epiphany, and so forth (and Theophany is not simply the Eastern “word” for Epiphany; the two celebrate two different things).

Which Church Father Are You?

 

You’re St. Melito of Sardis! You have a great love of history and liturgy. You’re attached to the traditions of the ancients, yet you recognize that the old world — great as it was — is passing away. You are loyal to the customs of your family, though you do not hesitate to call family members to account for their sins. Find out which Church Father you are at The Way of the Fathers!

 

Embracing the Sacred

I have been thinking about this a lot since Christmas. I went back to my old parish in Indiana for Midnight Mass, and was jolted. It was a Novus Ordo Mass, but done as I had never experienced. The priest offered the Eucharistic Prayers ad orienetem. There were bells at the consecrations. There were Gregorian chants. The priest chanted most of the Mass (and he has a beautiful voice, by the way). It was uplifting. It was prayerful. It was reverent. It was beautiful.

Most importantly, it was Sacred. 

The other day, the Anchoress pointed to an article of Amy Wellborn’s on Eastern Christianity, and while most of the comments are insightful, I think they miss the central issue.

Many, if not most, of the liturgical changes that occurred after Vatican II were wrongly attributed to it, in that the Council did not prescribe them. In many cases, nothing implying the changes was mentioned by the Council. I, at least, am not going to suggest that we should undo the Second Vatican Council, and even though I am a linguist and yes, am old enough that I took two years of Latin in high school, and yes, can halfway read Latin, I have no desire to return to it in the Mass.

But we have lost the distinction between the profane and Sacred. We have profaned our churches and the Mass. And we must recapture the Sacred which, yes, means undoing may of the uncalled for liturgical changes after 1970. (I am, if you haven’t realized it, using “profane” in its correct sense, rather than to mean dirty or blasphemous, so if you’re feeling yourself enraged with self-righteous anger, it isn’t justified.)

I remember the Tridentine. I knelt at the altar rail for my First Communion. I still have the Tridentine missal and breviary I was given for my First Communion. I was in high school and then an undergraduate when the changes were implemented. I am speaking from remembrance, not hearsay, as younger people only can. And because I lived through the era, I can tell you what happened, and where we veered from the Sacred to the profane.

It was the 70s, and I might add, the worst part of the 70s, the beginning of the decade, when the influence of the 60s was its strongest. The world was caught up in nature worship, and relevancy was all the rage — relevancy meaning “attractive to the hippie generation,” I might point out.

Relevancy captured the imagination of the bishops and clergy, who imagined that if the Church were to become more “relevant,” we would have more young people at Mass, even entering seminaries and taking vows. The hierarchy were also caught up in the whirlwind of nature worship — not, understand, to the point of heresy, but the point that holding Mass by the brook or wearing vestments with leaves and trees was felt to be somehow a more honest Christianity. (Note that this updating and relevancy, instead of bringing more young people to Mass and the priesthood, had the reverse effect.)

If you’ve watched these designer shows, you’ve heard this nonsense about “bringing the outdoors inside,” and that’s exactly what the clergy did. The Sacred, the idea that the church was a Sacred space and that Mass should be an experience and celebration of the Sacred, was deemed irrelevant and outdated. Monks, nuns, and priests wrote dreadful doggerel as lyrics for trite “folksy” tunes, all either openly centered around us, our experiences, and nature, or converting God and the Divine into us, our experiences, and nature.

It wasn’t pantheism, but it teetered on the edge.

There are two crucial differences between the Tridentine and Vatican II liturgies: The first, as I have already begun to discuss, was abolishing the Sacred in favor of the profane; and the second, related to the first, was changing the focus from God to us.

The Mass, you see, could not be “relevant” if it was about God and the Divine. Only by becoming profane could the Mass be “relevant.” Gregorian chants were dropped in favor of trite “folk” music accompanied by all too often out of tune guitars. Ugly banners of trees and peace symbols and other profane symbology covered the walls. The Stations of the Cross and many statues were torn down to be replaced with more profane symbols. And in what I believe to be the most destructive act of post-Vatican II excess, the priest turned around to face the congregation.

It was the ultimate act of narcissism. The Mass was finally all about us, and God was some borderline-pantheistic abstraction in the background. Mass had become group therapy. God was no longer why we were there; we were there for us.

As an aside, I know somebody is going to say that I am remiss, and that it is up to me to create my own sense of the Sacred. Well, I do, but no, this is not an argument. I am not speaking of my individual reaction to or experience of Mass; I am speaking of how changing the Mass will inevitably change Catholics.

I have had this discussion many times, and I am often accused of focusing on “superficialities.” Yet it is no coincidence that theology suffered in the same way at the same time. Catholics are balking (to say the least) about the more accurate translation of the Novus Ordo that is to be used: They dislike the most the correct translation of “credo” as “I believe” instead of the current “we believe.” They don’t like it because they do not, in fact, believe. “We believe” takes the burden of belief and faith off the shoulders of the individual and places it on some sort of imaginary communal entity. Catholics voted in a large majority for the most pro-abortion candidate ever to run for President. Catholic universities regularly and predictably teach heretical courses, and award anti-Catholic faculty, so much so that the Cardinal Newman Society was created to act as a watch.

Nothing here is superficial, least of all liturgy. As the Mass decayed, so did our faith, because the Mass is the expression of our faith. When the Mass ceases to be focused upon God, so does our faith.

It is interesting and ironic that one of the largest groups in favor of profaning the Mass at the time, the charismatic Catholics, have now aged, and many have become devout traditionalists. The next time you go to Mass, glance quickly around during the Lord’s Prayer, and you will see people assuming the orans, with elbows bent and palms raised upward, perhaps the most ancient prayer posture of the Church, dating back to images in the catacombs. The charismatics are responsible for people assuming this ancient and reverent posture, and today, people who were charismatics in the 70s are some of the strongest supporters of making the Mass Sacred again.

Certainly, there has been a gradual but constant movement away from the excesses of the 70s. Many parishes no longer display the ugly banners, and guitar Masses are blessedly rare. But we have not (with notable exceptions, such as Midnight Mass at my old parish) yet succeeded in recapturing the Sacred. We still employ hideous music with trite, banal lyrics, instead of using the rich musical tradition of the Church. Mass is still an exercise in narcissism. Priests still wear vestments decorated with profane symbols (admittedly, not as awful as in the 70s). At our relatively conservative parish, altar servers wear a shapeless white robe that looks like a wingless angel costume made out of old sheets for a sixth-grade play, instead of cossacks and surplices. Litanies and homilies center around the mundane, instead of the Divine.

Most distressing, however, is how the Eucharist itself has been purged of God and reverence. We were taught to approach the altar with our hands together and fingers extended to express reverence. People approach the Eucharist doing everything but picking their noses. What is the ostensible reason for standing instead of kneeling when we recieve what is the true Body of Christ? If one does believe that he is receiving the true Body of Christ in the Eucharist, why would he receive it in his hand? Why is the congregation asked to sing during the Eucharist, instead of kneeling and praying afterward? And although I think lay ministers are an unimportant issue in themselves, why do parishes with ordained deacons, like ours, not use them, and why have eight lay ministers to administer the Eucharist, unless you see it less as receiving the Body of Christ, and more as an assembly line to get it done as quickly as possible?

The post-Vatican II Eucharist is a travesty, and in practice, falls just short of blasphemous. All of the reverence has been purged, because it’s no longer about God. It’s about us. We receive it in our hands because it’s about us. We stand, and do not take the trouble or discomfort to kneel, because it’s about us. We sing instead of pray because it’s about us. Us, us, us, us, it’s always about us.

This leads to the central, fundametal issue that Amy and her commenters missed. The crucial distinction between the Mass and the Divine Liturgy is that the profane has never corrupted the sacred in the Divine Liturgy. Attend the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom and you feel the sense of the Sacred as soon as you walk into the church. The liturgy transports you, and the profane, the “relevant,” is left behind. The liturgy centers solely on God and the Divine. There are no trite lyrics, no peace symbols or dove banners, the litanies are directed to God.

Most importantly, the Eucharist has not been profaned. If you are unknown to the priest (or are known, but have not been to Confession, or are known to be a twice-a-year attender) and approach, he will not give you the Eucharist. In Eastern Christianity, the priest is still the guardian of the chalice, and the clergy, both Eastern Rite and Orthodox, take this duty most seriously of all.

We must reclaim the Sacred and eject the profane from our churches. To do so, we need only look to our Eastern brethren. I do not mean that we should adopt their liturgies, but that they have never rejected the Sacred, and they can show us how to embrace the Sacred once again.

If you have an Eastern Rite or Orthodox church nearby, I encourage you to attend. I am not suggesting that you change parishes, but go and experience the Sacred. Only if we have this experience will we have any hope of reclaiming it in our own parishes.

Corrected English Novus Ordo

Introductory Rites

When the people are gathered, the Priest approaches the altar with the ministers while the Entrance Chant is sung.

When he has arrived at the altar, after making a profound bow with the ministers, the Priest venerates the altar with a kiss and, if appropriate, incenses the cross and the altar. Then, with the ministers, he goes to the chair.

When the Entrance Chant is concluded, the Priest and the faithful, standing, sign themselves with the Sign of the Cross, while the Priest, facing the people, says:

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

The people reply:

Amen.

Then the Priest, extending his hands, greets the people, saying:

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

Or:

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Or:

The Lord be with you.

The people reply:

And with your spirit.

In this first greeting, instead ofThe Lord be with you, a Bishop says:

Peace be with you.

The Priest, or a deacon, or another minister, may very briefly introduce the faithful to the Mass of the day.

Penitential Act

Then follows the Penitential Act, to which the Priest invites the faithful, saying:

Brethren (brothers and sisters), let us acknowledge our sins, that we may prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries.

A brief pause for silence follows. Then all recite together the formula of general confession:

I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do,

And, striking their breast, they say:

through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault;

Then they continue:

therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin, all the Angels and Saints, and you, my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God.

The absolution of the Priest follows:

May almighty God have mercy on us and lead us, with our sins forgiven, to eternal life.

The people reply:

Amen.

From time to time on Sundays, especially in Easter time, instead of the customary Penitential Act, the blessing and sprinkling of water may take place as a reminder of Baptism.

The Priest invites the faithful to make the Penitential Act:

Brethren (brothers and sisters), let us acknowledge our sins, that we may prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries.

A brief pause for silence follows.

The Priest then says:

Have mercy on us, O Lord.

The people reply:

For we have sinned against you.

The Priest:

Show us, O Lord, your mercy.

The people:

And grant us your salvation.

The absolution by the Priest follows:

May almighty God have mercy on us and lead us, with our sins forgiven, to eternal life.

The people reply:

Amen.

The Priest invites the faithful to make the Penitential Act: Brethren (brothers and sisters), let us acknowledge our sins, that we may prepare ourselves to celebrate the sacred mysteries.

There follows a brief pause for silence. 

The Priest, or a deacon or another minister, then says the following or other invocations

You were sent to heal the contrite of heart:

Lord, have mercy.

Or:

Kyrie, eleison.

The people reply:

Lord, have mercy.

Or:

Kyrie, eleison.

The Priest:

You came to call sinners: Christ, have mercy.

Or:

Christe, eleison.

The people:

Christ, have mercy.

Or:

Christe, eleison.

The Priest:

You are seated at the right hand of the Father to intercede for us:

Lord, have mercy.

Or:

Kyrie, eleison.

The people:

Lord, have mercy.

Or:

Kyrie, eleison.

The absolution by the Priest follows:

May almighty God have mercy on us and lead us, with our sins forgiven, to eternal life.

The people reply:

Amen.

Then, when it is prescribed, the Gloria is sung or said:

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to people of good will.

We praise you, we bless you, we adore you, we glorify you, we give you thanks for your great glory.

Lord God, heavenly King, O God, almighty Father. Lord Jesus Christ, Only Begotten Son, Lord God, Lamb of God, Son of the Father, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us; you take away the sins of the world, receive our prayer; you are seated at the right hand of the Father, have mercy on us.

For you alone are the Holy One, you alone are the Lord, you alone are the Most High, Jesus Christ, with the Holy Spirit, in the glory of God the Father.

Amen.

When the Gloria is concluded, the Priest, with hands joined, says:

Let us pray.

And all pray in silence with the Priest for a moment.

Then the Priest, with hands extended, says the Collect prayer, at the end of which the people acclaim:

Amen.

The Liturgy of the Word

Then the reader goes to the ambo and reads the first reading, while all sit and listen. To indicate the end of the reading, the reader acclaims:

The Word of the Lord.

All reply:

Thanks be to God.

The psalmist or cantor sings or says the Psalm, with the people making the response.

After this, if there is to be a second reading, a reader reads it from the ambo, as above. To indicate the end of the reading, the reader acclaims:

The Word of the Lord.

All reply:

Thanks be to God.

There follows the Alleluiaor another chant laid down by the rubrics, as the liturgical time requires.

Meanwhile, if incense is used, the Priest puts some into the thurible. After this, the deacon who is to proclaim the Gospel, bowing profoundly before the Priest, asks for the blessing, saying in a low voice:

May I have your blessing, Father.

The Priest says in a low voice:

May the Lord be in your heart and on your lips that you may proclaim his Gospel worthily and well, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

The deacon signs himself with the Sign of the Cross and replies:

Amen.

If, however, a deacon is not present, the Priest, bowing before the altar, says quietly:

Cleanse my heart and my lips, almighty God, that I may worthily proclaim your holy Gospel.

The deacon, or the Priest, then proceeds to the ambo, accompanied, if appropriate, by ministers with incense and candles. There he says:

The Lord be with you.

The people reply:

And with your spirit.

The deacon, or the Priest:

A reading from the holy Gospel according to N.

and, at the same time, he makes the Sign of the Cross on the book and on his forehead, lips, and breast.

The people acclaim:

Glory to you, O Lord.

Then the deacon, or the Priest, incenses the book, if incense is used, and proclaims the Gospel.

At the end of the Gospel, the deacon, or the Priest, acclaims:

The Gospel of the Lord.

All reply:

Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Then he kisses the book, saying quietly:

Through the words of the Gospel may our sins be wiped away.

Then follows the homily, which is to be preached by a Priest or deacon on all Sundays and holy days of obligation; on other days, it is recommended.

At the end of the homily, the Symbol or Profession of Faith or Creed, when prescribed, is sung or said:

I believe in one God,
the Father almighty,
maker of heaven and earth,
of all things visible and invisible.
And in one Lord Jesus Christ,
the Only Begotten Son of God,
born of the Father before all ages.
God from God,
Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten, not made,
consubstantial with the Father;
through him all things were made.

At the words that follow up to and including “and became man,” all bow

For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven,
and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.

For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate,
he suffered death and was buried,
and rose again on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures.
He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.
He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead
and his kingdom will have no end.
And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life,
who proceeds from the Father and the Son,
who with the Father and the Son is adored and glorified,
who has spoken through the prophets.
And one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church.
I confess one baptism for the forgiveness of sins
and I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.

Amen.

Instead of the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed, especially during Lent and Easter time, the baptismal Symbol of the Roman Church, known as the Apostles’ Creed, may be used.

I believe in God,
the Father almighty,
Creator of heaven and earth,
and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,

At the words that follow, up to and including “the Virgin Mary,” all bow.

who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,
born of the Virgin Mary,

suffered under Pontius Pilate,
was crucified, died and was buried;
he descended into hell;
on the third day he rose again from the dead;
he ascended into heaven,
and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty;
from there he will come to judge the living and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church,
the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and life everlasting.
Amen.

The Liturgy of the Eucharist

When all this has been done, the Offertory Chant begins. Meanwhile, the ministers place the corporal, the purificator, the chalice, the pall, and the Missal on the altar.

It is desirable that the faithful express their participation by making an offering, bringing forward bread and wine for the celebration of the Eucharist and perhaps other gifts to relieve the needs of the Church and of the poor.

The Priest, standing at the altar, takes the paten with the bread and holds it slightly raised above the altar with both hands, saying in a low voice:

 

Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation, for through your goodness we have received the bread we offer you: fruit of the earth and work of human hands, it will become for us the bread of life.

Then he places the paten with the bread on the corporal. If, however, the Offertory Chant is not sung, the Priest may speak these words aloud; at the end, the people may acclaim:

Blessed be God for ever.

The deacon, or the Priest, pours wine and a little water into the chalice, saying quietly:

By the mystery of this water and wine may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.

The Priest then takes the chalice and holds it slightly raised above the altar with both hands, saying in a low voice:

Blessed are you, Lord God of all creation, for through your goodness we have received the wine we offer you: fruit of the vine and work of human hands it will become our spiritual drink.

Then he places the chalice on the corporal.

If, however, the Offertory Chant is not sung, the Priest may speak these words aloud; at the end, the people may acclaim:

Blessed be God for ever.

After this, the Priest, bowing profoundly, says quietly:

With humble spirit and contrite heart may we be accepted by you, O Lord, and may our sacrifice in your sight this day be pleasing to you, Lord God.

If appropriate, he also incenses the offerings, the cross, and the altar. A deacon or other minister then incenses the Priest and the people.

Then the Priest, standing at the side of the altar, washes his hands, saying quietly:

Wash me, O Lord, from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.

Standing at the middle of the altar, facing the people, extending and then joining his hands, he says:

Pray, brethren (brothers and sisters), that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God, the almighty Father.

The people rise and reply:

May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands for the praise and glory of his name, for our good and the good of all his holy Church.

Then the Priest, with hands extended, says the Prayer over the Offerings, at the end of which the people acclaim:

Amen.

The Eucharistic Prayer

Then the Priest begins the Eucharistic Prayer.

Extending his hands, he says:

The Lord be with you.

The people reply:

And with your spirit.

The Priest, raising his hands, continues:

Lift up your hearts.

The people:

We lift them up to the Lord.

The Priest, with hands extended, adds:

Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

The people:

It is right and just.

The Priest, with hands extended, continues the Preface. At the end of the Preface he joins his hands and concludes the Preface with the people, singing or saying aloud:

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts.
Heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.

The Priest, with hands extended, says:

To you, therefore, most merciful Father, we make humble prayer and petition through Jesus Christ, your Son, our Lord:

He joins his hands and says

that you accept

He makes the Sign of the Cross once over the bread and chalice together, saying:

and bless these gifts, these offerings, these holy and unblemished sacrifices,

With hands extended, he continues:

which we offer you first of all for your holy catholic Church. Be pleased to grant her peace, to guard, unite and govern her throughout the whole world, together with your servant N.our Pope and N.our Bishop, and all those who, holding to the truth, hand on the catholic and apostolic faith.

Commemoration of the Living.

Remember, Lord, your servants N.and N.

The Priest joins his hands and prays briefly for those for whom he intends to pray.

Then, with hands extended, he continues:

and all gathered here, whose faith and devotion are known to you. For them and all who are dear to them we offer you this sacrifice of praise or they offer it for themselves and all who are dear to them, for the redemption of their souls, in hope of health and well-being, and fulfilling their vows to you, the eternal God, living and true. Within the Action. In communion with those whose memory we venerate, especially the glorious ever-Virgin Mary, Mother of our God and Lord, Jesus Christ, and blessed Joseph, Spouse of the same Virgin, your blessed Apostles and Martyrs, Peter and Paul, Andrew, James, John, Thomas, James, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Simon and Jude: Linus, Cletus, Clement, Sixtus, Cornelius, Cyprian, Lawrence, Chrysogonus, John and Paul, Cosmas and Damianand all your Saints: through their merits and prayers, grant that in all things we may be defended by your protecting help. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

With hands extended, the Priest continues:

Therefore, Lord, we pray: graciously accept this oblation of our service, that of your whole family; order our days in your peace, and command that we be delivered from eternal damnation and counted among the flock of those you have chosen.

He joins his hands.

Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Holding his hands extended over the offerings, he says:

Be pleased, O God, we pray, to bless, acknowledge, and approve this offering in every respect; make it spiritual and acceptable, so that it may become for us the Body and Blood of your most beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.

He joins his hands.

In the formulas that follow, the words of the Lord should be pronounced clearly and distinctly, as the nature of these words requires.

On the day before he was to suffer

The Priest takes the bread and, holding it slightly raised above the altar, continues:

he took bread in his holy and venerable hands,

He raises his eyes.

and with eyes raised to heaven to you, O God, his almighty Father, giving you thanks he said the blessing, broke the bread and gave it to his disciples, saying:

He bows slightly.

TAKE THIS,ALL OF YOU,AND EAT OF IT, FOR THIS IS MY BODY, WHICH WILL BE GIVEN UP FOR YOU.

He shows the consecrated host to the people, places it again on the paten, and genuflects in adoration.

After this, the Priest continues:

In a similar way, when supper was ended,

He takes the chalice and, holding it slightly raised above the altar, continues:

he took this precious chalice in his holy and venerable hands, and once more giving you thanks, he said the blessing and gave the chalice to his disciples, saying:

He bows slightly

TAKE THIS,ALL OF YOU,AND DRINK FROM IT, FOR THIS IS THE CHALICE OF MY BLOOD, THE BLOOD OF THE NEW AND ETERNAL COVENANT, WHICH WILL BE POURED OUT FOR YOU AND FOR MANY FOR THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS. DO THIS IN MEMORY OF ME.

The Priest shows the chalice to the people, places it on the corporal, and genuflects in adoration.

Then the Priest says:

The mystery of faith.

And the people continue, acclaiming:

We proclaim your death, O Lord, and profess your Resurrection until you come again.

Or:

When we eat this Bread and drink this Cup, we proclaim your death, O Lord, until you come again.

Or:

Save us, Savior of the world, for by your Cross and Resurrection you have set us free.

Then the Priest, with hands extended, says:

Therefore, O Lord, as we celebrate the memorial of the blessed Passion, the Resurrection from the dead, and the glorious Ascension into heaven of Christ, your Son, our Lord, we, your servants and your holy people, offer to your glorious majesty from the gifts that you have given us, this pure victim, this holy victim, this spotless victim, the holy Bread of eternal life and the Chalice of everlasting salvation. Be pleased to look upon them with serene and kindly countenance, and to accept them, as you were pleased to accept the gifts of your servant Abel the just, the sacrifice of Abraham, our father in faith, and the offering of your high priest Melchizedek, a holy sacrifice, a spotless victim.

Bowing, with hands joined, he continues:

In humble prayer we ask you, almighty God: command that these gifts be borne by the hands of your holy Angel to your altar on high in the sight of your divine majesty, so that all of us who through this participation at the altar receive the most holy Body and Blood of your Son

He stands upright again and signs himself with the Sign of the Cross, saying:

may be filled with every grace and heavenly blessing.

He joins his hands.

Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Commemoration of the Dead

With hands extended, the Priest says:

Remember also, Lord, your servants N.and N., who have gone before us with the sign of faith and rest in the sleep of peace.

He joins his hands and prays briefly for those who have died and for whom he intends to pray.

Then, with hands extended, he continues:

Grant them, O Lord, we pray, and all who sleep in Christ, a place of refreshment, light and peace.

He joins his hands.

Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

He strikes his breast with his right hand, saying:

To us, also, your sinful servants,

And, with hands extended, he continues:

who hope in your abundant mercies, graciously grant some share and fellowship with your holy Apostles and Martyrs: with John the Baptist, Stephen, Matthias, Barnabas, Ignatius, Alexander, Marcellinus, Peter, Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia and all your Saints: admit us, we beg you, into their company, not weighing our merits, but granting us your pardon,

He joins his hands.

through Christ our Lord.

And he continues:

Through whom you continue to create all these good things, O Lord; you make them holy, fill them with life, bless them, and bestow them upon us.

He takes the chalice and the paten with the host and, elevating both, he says:

Through him, and with him, and in him, to you, O God, almighty Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, is all honor and glory, for ever and ever.

The people acclaim:

Amen.

After the chalice and paten have been set down, the Priest, with hands joined, says:

At the Savior’s command and formed by divine teaching, we dare to say:

He extends his hands and, together with the people, continues:

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come,
thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us;
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.

With hands extended, the Priest alone continues, saying:

Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil,
graciously grant peace in our days,
that, by the help of your mercy,
we may be always free from sin and safe from all distress,
as we await the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

He joins his hands.

The people conclude the prayer, acclaiming:

For the kingdom, the power and the glory are yours now and for ever.

Then the Priest, with hands extended, says aloud:

Lord Jesus Christ, who said to your Apostles, Peace I leave you, my peace I give you, look not on our sins, but on the faith of your Church, and graciously grant her peace and unity in accordance with your will.

He joins his hands.

Who live and reign for ever and ever.

The people reply:

Amen.

The Priest, turned towards the people, extending and then joining his hands, adds:

The peace of the Lord be with you always.

The people reply:

And with your spirit.

Then, if appropriate, the deacon, or the Priest, adds:

Let us offer each other the sign of peace.

And all offer one another a sign, in keeping with local customs, that expresses peace, communion, and charity. The Priest gives the sign of peace to a deacon or minister.

Then he takes the host, breaks it over the paten, and places a small piece in the chalice, saying quietly:

May this mingling of the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ bring eternal life to us who receive it.

Meanwhile the following is sung or said:

Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us.
Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, grant us peace.

The invocation may even be repeated several times if the fraction is prolonged. Only the final time, however, is grant us peace said.

Then the Priest, with hands joined, says quietly:

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, who by the will of the Father and the work of the Holy Spirit, through your death gave life to the world; free me by this your most holy Body and Blood from all my sins and from every evil; keep me always faithful to your commandments, and never let me be parted from you.

Or:

May the receiving of your Body and Blood, Lord Jesus Christ, not bring me to judgment and condemnation, but through your loving mercy be for me protection in mind and body, and a healing remedy.

The Priest genuflects, takes the host and, holding it slightly raised above the paten or above the chalice, while facing the people, says aloud:

Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.

And together with the people he adds once:

Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.

The Priest, facing the altar, says quietly:

May the Body of Christ keep me safe for eternal life.

And he reverently consumes the Body of Christ. Then he takes the chalice and says quietly:

May the Blood of Christ keep me safe for eternal life.

And he reverently consumes the Blood of Christ.

After this, he takes the paten or ciborium and approaches the communicants. The Priest raises a host slightly and shows it to each of the communicants, saying:

The Body of Christ.

The communicant replies:

Amen.

And receives Holy Communion.

If a deacon also distributes Holy Communion, he does so in the same manner.

If any are present who are to receive Holy Communion under both kinds, the rite as described in the proper place is to be followed.

While the Priest is receiving the Body of Christ, the Communion Chant begins.

When the distribution of Communion is over, the Priest or a deacon or an acolyte purifies the paten over the chalice and also the chalice itself. While he carries out the purification, the Priest says quietly:

 

 

What has passed our lips as food, O Lord, may we possess in purity of heart, that what has been given to us in time may be our healing for eternity.

Then the Priest may return to the chair. If appropriate, a sacred silence may be observed for a while, or a psalm or other canticle of praise or a hymn may be sung.

Then, standing at the altar or at the chair and facing the people, with hands joined, the Priest says:

Let us pray.

All pray in silence with the Priest for a while, unless silence has just been observed.

Then the Priest, with hands extended, says the Prayer after Communion, at the end of which the people acclaim:

Amen.

The Concluding Rites

If they are necessary, any brief announcements to the people follow here.

Then the dismissal takes place. The Priest, facing the people and extending his hands, says:

The Lord be with you.

The people reply:

And with your spirit.

The Priest blesses the people, saying:

May almighty God bless you: the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

The people reply:

Amen.

Then the deacon, or the Priest himself, with hands joined and facing the people, says:

Go forth, the Mass is ended.

Or:

Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.

Or:

Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.

Or:

Go in peace.

The people reply:

Thanks be to God.

Then the Priest venerates the altar as usual with a kiss, as at the beginning. After making a profound bow with the ministers, he withdraws.

Looking at the “Catholic vote”

The “Catholic vote” must refer specifically to the “Observant Catholic vote,” or it’s a meaningless demographic.

First, Catholics differ from Protestants in their fear of apostasy. Protestants often covert or change churches; Catholics rarely do. This is why you hear about lapsed Catholics, but never lapsed Methodists. The point here is that lapsed Catholics, those who never go to Mass, identify themselves as Catholics and always will, but pay no attention to the precepts of the Church. They will always be a part of the “Catholic vote” on any survey or poll, unless the poll differentiates. Most don’t.

Second, you have the cafeteria Catholic segment. Some go to Mass only on Easter and Christmas, while others go to Mass more or less regularly. Because like Protestants, they feel they can pick and choose among matters of faith, they are very hard to pin down. Many are strongly pro-life, but the question is how they balance life against other issues. Note that in response to Pelosi and Biden, over a hundred American bishops have now stated that life is more important than all other issues, although none has endorsed a ticket. These statements may swing many cafeteria Catholics to McCain and Palin.

Remove these two groups from the Catholic demographic, and you are left with the observant Catholics. Note that observant doesn’t merely mean they go to Mass regularly. Observant means that they take their faith seriously, and follow the precepts of the Church. This is perhaps the strongest pro-life group in the United States, and tends to be socially conservative in general.

Two things are going to swing the votes more than we would see in most elections: The bishops’ statements in response to Pelosi and Biden, and the Born Alive Infant Protection Act that Obama refused to vote for. McCain’s support of federal monies for stem-cell research hurt his standing among pro-life Cathoics to some extent, but putting Palin on the ticket seems to have outweighed that, and McCain’s stance on federal money for stem-cell research pales next to Obama’s refusal to support the Born Alive Infant Protection Act as a pro-life issue.

Note, however, that even if only the observant Catholics vote Republican, that’s a significant demographic. There are 67 million Catholics in the United States. If observant Catholics only account for 25% of the entire Catholic population, that’s 16.25 million votes.

(There are other problems with treating the self-identification “Catholic” on polls and surveys as a voting block. First, there is the intersection between Hispanic voters and Catholic voters. Hispanics have a whole set of issues that aren’t necessarily Catholic issues, and these will affect how they vote. Second, you have the historical effect in play with ethnic Catholics that aren’t really ethnic at all anymore, but tend to vote the same way their parents and grandparents, etc., did. These groups tend to be geographically as well as ethnically defined, such as Irish Catholics in MA, Italian Catholics in Philly or NYC, etc., and nearly all are urban.)

Keeping all these problems in mind, there are these poll results. Zogby reports that 54% of Catholics in general are intending to vote McCain. Another Pew poll that differentiates between lapsed and attending (non-lapsed, since this would include cafeteria Catholics who attend Mass and observant Catholics) Catholics reports an even split for McCain and Obama among lapsed Catholics, and a 52-36 McCain advantage among Catholics who attend Mass (non-lapsed).

Oddly enough, Gary Bauer of all people wrote an article about Obama’s “Catholic problem” in Human Events. He does, however, hit the nail on the head: “Obama is hemorrhaging Catholic support for the same reason John Kerry lost the Catholic vote in 2004: because most Catholics believe that some issues are non-negotiable.”

Well, he almost hits it. I’m not sure “most” is correct, but he’s referring to non-lapsed Catholics.

How is this possible?

Over on my main blog, I pointed out that leftists are doing nothing but driving votes to McCain with their smears of Palin. What I don’t understand is how so many people can be so clueless about Christians and Christianity that they believe otherwise.

This isn’t Catholic. It’s Christian. Pan-Christian. Man is fallen, and none of us are perfect. We will never be perfect. We will always sin.

Romans 3:23

For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God

Romans 5:8

God commendeth His love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us

The Word of God is clear. Sin is not hypocrisy. Sin is reality, because we can never be perfect. Hypocrisy is when we continue to sin, knowingly, and pretend that we do not.

What mystifies me is how so many people can not understand this, even if today, they are slobbering athetists. If they were raised Catholic, did they not learn their catechism or go to confirmation classes? If they were raised Protestant, did they not go to Sunday School? Did their parents give them no religious foundation?

How can so many people raised in yes, a Christian nation and a Christian culture, misunderstand what is perhaps the most basic and fundamental tenet of Christianity?

What is particularly depressing, however, is this. Bristol Palin is going to have and keep her baby. She’s going to marry the father (she has an engagement ring on in the photos from the Dayton announcement). She is doing the right, indeed, the moral thing. Yet many seem to think this is something she and her family should be ashamed of. Have we sunk so low?

I have been getting spammed by trolls spouting such nonsense as, “If this had happened to Obama’s daughter, you’d be screaming your head off!”

Well, no, provided that like Bristol, she were doing the moral thing, having the baby and marrying the father. I’d feel sorry for the poor girl, that she had to go through this in this way. But given that Obama has revealed that he thinks children are a punishment, and not a blessing, and that he believes that children born alive should be left to die, it would be far more likely that he’d bundle his daughter off to abort her baby.

Busy, busy

Yes, I know, I haven’t posted for a while. Sorry, I’ve been busy. I’ll catch up.

An ardent, practicing Catholic?

Archbishop Charles Chaput leads the Denver Archdiocese, and mysteriously, was not invited to the Democrats’ convention. I suspect it’s because he’s an orthodox Catholic, not a cafeteria Catholic, and has said many things like this:

But [Catholics who support pro-choice candidates] also need a compelling proportionate reason to justify it. What is a “proportionate” reason when it comes to the abortion issue? It’s the kind of reason we will be able to explain, with a clean heart, to the victims of abortion when we meet them face to face in the next life—which we most certainly will. If we’re confident that these victims will accept our motives as something more than an alibi, then we can proceed.

Nancy Pelosi seems to think herself a theologian these days, to judge from her idiotic statements on Meet the Press.

REP. PELOSI: And what I know is, over the centuries, the doctors of the church have not been able to make that definition. And Senator–St. Augustine said at three months. We don’t know. The point is, is that it shouldn’t have an impact on the woman’s right to choose. . . . As I say, the Catholic Church for centuries has been discussing this, and there are those who’ve decided…

MR. BROKAW: The Catholic Church at the moment feels very strongly that it…

REP. PELOSI: I understand that.

MR. BROKAW: …begins at the point of conception.

REP. PELOSI: I understand. And this is like maybe 50 years or something like that. So again, over the history of the church, this is an issue of controversy.

Note that this was after she described herself — and I quote — as an “ardent, practicing Catholic.”

Astounding. Carol Liebau, a Protestant, knows more about the teachings of the Church than Pelosi:

Remarkable. After all, I’m not even a Catholic — much less an “ardent” one — and yet I’m crystal clear that abortion rights and the sanctity of life haven’t really been too “controversial” in any segment of the Catholic Church. Ever.

Ms. Liebau, unlike the Speaker of the House, can even find the official statement from the U. S. Council of Catholic Bishops.

Since its beginnings, Christianity has maintained a firm and clear teaching on the sacredness of human life. Jesus Christ emphasized this in his teaching and ministry. Abortion was rejected in the earliest known Christian manual of discipline, the Didache.

Early Church fathers likewise condemned abortion as the killing of innocent human life. A third century Father of the Church, Tertullian, called it “accelerated homicide.” Early Church councils considered it one of the most serious crimes. Even during periods when Aristotle’s theory of “delayed ensoulment” led Church law to assign different penalties to earlier and later abortions, abortion at any stage was still considered a grave evil.

Indeed, the Didache, the first written catechism, dating from 70 AD (that’s just a bit more than 50 years ago) unambiguously condemns abortion.

The second commandment of the teaching: You shall not murder. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not seduce boys. You shall not commit fornication. You shall not steal. You shall not practice magic. You shall not use potions. You shall not procure [an] abortion, nor destroy a newborn child.

I could go on and on, because the Church has repeatedly over the last two thousand years condemned abortion. Unconditionally. Unambiguously. But Pelosi has gotten herself into serious trouble with her ignorant statements. The first to respond was Archbishop Chaput (the original is a pdf file, so I’ll reproduce it all here).

Most Rev. Charles J. Chaput, O.F.M. Cap. Addresses Archbishop of Denver

ON THE SEPARATION OF SENSE AND STATE: A CLARIFICATION FOR THE PEOPLE OF THE CHURCH IN NORTHERN COLORADO

Denver, CO Monday, August 25, 2008

To Catholics of the Archdiocese of Denver:

Catholic public leaders inconvenienced by the abortion debate tend to take a hard line in talking about the “separation of Church and state.” But their idea of separation often seems to work one way. In fact, some officials also seem comfortable in the role of theologian. And that warrants some interest, not as a “political” issue, but as a matter of accuracy and justice.

Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi is a gifted public servant of strong convictions and many professional skills. Regrettably, knowledge of Catholic history and teaching does not seem to be one of them. Interviewed on Meet the Press August 24, Speaker Pelosi was asked when human life begins. She said the following:

“I would say that as an ardent, practicing Catholic, this is an issue that I have studied for a long time. And what I know is over the centuries, the doctors of the church have not been able to make that definition . . . St. Augustine said at three months. We don’t know. The point is, is that it shouldn’t have an impact on the woman’s right to choose.”

Since Speaker Pelosi has, in her words, studied the issue “for a long time,” she must know very well one of the premier works on the subject, Jesuit John Connery’s Abortion: The Development of the Roman Catholic Perspective (Loyola, 1977). Here’s how Connery concludes his study:

“The Christian tradition from the earliest days reveals a firm antiabortion attitude . . . The condemnation of abortion did not depend on and was not limited in any way by theories regarding the time of fetal animation. Even during the many centuries when Church penal and penitential practice was based on the theory of delayed animation, the condemnation of abortion was never affected by it. Whatever one would want to hold about the time of animation, or when the fetus became a human being in the strict sense of the term, abortion from the time of conception was considered wrong, and the time of animation was never looked on as a moral dividing line between permissible and impermissible abortion.”

Or to put it in the blunter words of the great Lutheran pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer:

“Destruction of the embryo in the mother’s womb is a violation of the right to live which God has bestowed on this nascent life. To raise the question whether we are here concerned already with a human being or not is merely to confuse the issue. The simple fact is that God certainly intended to create a human being and that this nascent human being has been deliberately deprived of his life. And that is nothing but murder.”

Ardent, practicing Catholics will quickly learn from the historical record that from apostolic times, the Christian tradition overwhelmingly held that abortion was grievously evil. In the absence of modern medical knowledge, some of the Early Fathers held that abortion was homicide; others that it was tantamount to homicide; and various scholars theorized about when and how the unborn child might be animated or “ensouled.” But none diminished the unique evil of abortion as an attack on life itself, and the early Church closely associated abortion with infanticide. In short, from the beginning, the believing Christian community held that abortion was always, gravely wrong.

Of course, we now know with biological certainty exactly when human life begins. Thus, today’s religious alibis for abortion and a so-called “right to choose” are nothing more than that alibis that break radically with historic Christian and Catholic belief.

Abortion kills an unborn, developing human life. It is always gravely evil, and so are the evasions employed to justify it. Catholics who make excuses for it whether they’re famous or not fool only themselves and abuse the fidelity of those Catholics who do sincerely seek to follow the Gospel and live their Catholic faith.

The duty of the Church and other religious communities is moral witness. The duty of the state and its officials is to serve the common good, which is always rooted in moral truth. A proper understanding of the “separation of Church and state” does not imply a separation of faith from political life. But of course, it’s always important to know what our faith actually teaches.

+Charles J. Chaput, O.F.M. Cap. Archbishop of Denver

+James D. Conley Auxiliary Bishop of Denver

The U. S. Conference of Catholic Bishops has also responed (sorry, no link; it came from a mailing list).

WASHINGTON–Cardinal Justin F. Rigali, chairman of the U.S. Bishops’ Committee on Pro-Life Activities, and Bishop William E. Lori, chairman of the U.S. Bishops’ Committee on Doctrine, have issued the following statement:

In the course of a “Meet the Press” interview on abortion and other public issues on August 24, 2008, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi misrepresented the history and nature of the authentic teaching of the Catholic Church against abortion.

In fact, the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches, “Since the first century the Church has affirmed the moral evil of every procured abortion. This teaching has not changed and remains unchangeable. Direct abortion, that is to say, abortion willed either as an end or a means, is gravely contrary to the moral law.” (No. 2271)

In the Middle Ages, uninformed and inadequate theories about embryology led some theologians to speculate that specifically human life capable of receiving an immortal soul may not exist until a few weeks into pregnancy. While in canon law these theories led to a distinction in penalties between very early and later abortions, the Church’s moral teaching never justified or permitted abortion at any stage of development.

These mistaken biological theories became obsolete over 150 years ago when scientists discovered that a new human individual comes into being from the union of sperm and egg at fertilization. In keeping with this modern understanding, the Church teaches that from the time of conception (fertilization), each member of the human species must be given the full respect due to a human person, beginning with respect for the fundamental right to life.

Archbishop Wuerl has issued a stinging response:

He said, “We respect the right of elected officials such as Speaker Pelosi to address matters of public policy that are before them, but the interpretation of Catholic faith has rightfully been entrusted to the Catholic bishops. Given this responsibility to teach, it is important to make this correction for the record.”

Wuerl pointed out that the Catechism of the Catholic Church is clear, and has been clear for 2,000 years. He cited Catechism language that reads, “Human life must be respected and protected absolutely from the moment of conception … Since the first century the Church has affirmed the moral evil of every procured abortion. This teaching has not changed and remains unchangeable. Direct abortion, that is to say, abortion willed either as an end or a means, is gravely contrary to the moral law.”

[ . . . ]

The Speaker recently said she, unlike other Catholic politicians who support abortion rights, has not clashed with her church about receiving communion.

I suspect that may change.

Hugh Hewitt has more. And Father John has chimed in.

Pelosi is by no means alone, here, and that’s what’s sad. One continually hears otherwise well-meaning Catholics claim that they can vote for pro-abortion candidates because of the “other Church issues.” This betrays a regrettable lack of understanding of fundamental Church positions.

The Church does not, in any way, state or imply that we should take care of the less unfortunate by creating welfare programs instead of, say, charity. No, the Church does not teach that we should be a welfare state.

The Church only condemns unjust wars, and has a list of criteria for determining whether a war is just. One may use that list and determine that any given war, say, Iraq, is unjust, but the Church has never claimed that the war is unjust.

The Church condemns the unjust application of capital punishment, not capital punishment.

The Church does condemn abortion, without condition, qualification, or exception.

With the exception of birth control, none of these issues is of the same importance as abortion, nor can a conscientious, practicing Catholic vote for a pro-abortion candidate, no matter what that candidate’s stances are on other issues. Period. The end. That’s all, folks.

Some of these people are cafeteria Catholics, certainly, but not all. Many misunderstand the position of the Church. It is best to gently inform them, not rail at them.

I suspect Pelosi might consider going to catechism classes.

450 years later: Updated

Since The Better Half is Episcopalian (born and bred, not a convert), I have a fair knowledge of the Anglicans, and all I can say about the fracture is that it’s amazing it took as long as it did.

Back in the early 80s, I got a comprehensive course in Anglicanism, so to speak. The latitudinarianism, the Anglican policy of incorporating a wide liturgical and theological variety, was already beginning to crumble. But unlike, say, the exodus of Archbishop Lefebvre after the Second Vatican Council, disaffected groups did not fall into one, but four different categories. The first two form the “theologically serious” part of the Anglican spectrum in the US:

• Anglo-Catholics
  This significantly large faction falls at the extreme “right” of the Anglican spectrum, both theologically and liturgically.
• Protestant Anglicans
  This is my term for theologically and liturgically Protestant (Methodists without being Methodists, more or less) Anglicans. These Anglicans, also called low church, lie at the other end of the spectrum from the first group.

Then there are the other two groups, which form the “theologically apathetic” part of the church. The larger of the two is the “mainstream” Anglicans, who may have either liturgical preference, and whose idea of Christianity is dressed-up Marxism. The smaller is the “smells and bells” group, which prefers extremely Catholic liturgy and is therefore exclusively found in Anglo-Catholic parishes, but is either unconcerned about theology, or theologically falls with the Jesus-wore-birkenstocks crowd.

I am only concerned with the first two groups. The second two are, as far as I’m concerned, Christians in name only, along with the bulk of mainstream Protestants. These first two groups are the ones who are disaffected.

Anglicans were splintering over two issues: Theology and liturgy. What was odd was that most didn’t seem to perceive the relationship between the two, that liturgy reflects theology. I suspect this is due to that same latitudinarian policy which had for so long allowed (essentially) Methodists and Roman Catholics to co-exist in the same ecclesial body, and use the same liturgical text.

Anglicans in the US had been using the 1928 Book of Common Prayer until 1979, when the church issued a revision, containing two rites. Other than some updated English, Rite I was more or less the same as the 1928 text. More at issue was Rite II.

To my Catholic eyes and ears, the 1928 rite (and the 1979 Rite I) were undeniably Protestant in theology. Not radically so, certainly, but Protestant nonetheless. Rite II was very different from Rite I (and the 1928 liturgy), and crucially, was nearly indistinguishable from the Novus Ordo, so much so that I could nearly go through the whole service without glancing at the prayer book.

I’ll leave criticism of the Novus Ordo for another time, because it’s tangential. Whatever its failings, the theology underlying it is strictly and wholly Roman Catholic. So was the Rite II liturgy. Yet, Anglo-Catholics violently rejected the 1979 prayer book.

This made little sense to me. Yes, the English was lame, as it is in the Novus Ordo, but liturgy reflects theology, and it seemed to me that Anglo-Catholics should have embraced the 1979 Rite II. But no, they wanted to retain what was a far more Protestant prayer book.

Initially, at least, it made sense that the theologically low church (Protestant) faction also wanted to retain the 1928 liturgy. It seemed to, anyway, until after talking to these people, it became obvious that like their equally theologically conservative Anglo-Catholic brethren at the other end of the latitudinarian spectrum, theology had nothing to do with their disaffection. And the Episcopalians in Louisville who happily embraced Rite II were the theologically nihilist, Jesus-was-a-Marxist faction that today is in charge of the church.

I suspect that this disconnection between theology and liturgy is the result of 450 years of a wide theological spectrum using the same prayer book. Still, I found it bizarre.

I’m not suggesting that either of the groups is disaffected primarily because of the liturgy. Far from it. The fracture is widening in response to a national church that has purged its theology of all Christianity. But the theology and liturgy do not go hand in hand.

At the time, there were a few very tiny splinter groups. Those disaffected Anglicans who did leave, however, for the most part either became Orthodox (the Antiochians received so many Episcopalian converts that they established an English Rite) or Roman Catholic (today, there is an English Rite, corresponding to the one mentioned). And while the Episcopal Church in the US was bleeding members, it didn’t seem to be in danger of splitting up.

That was then. It’s different now.

In the early 80s, Grace Church on Goldsmith Lane in Louisville was a disaffected parish. They obstinately refused to adopt the 1979 prayer book, and exclusively used the 1928. They were theologically conservative, but fell into the low church end of the spectrum. Today, they have left the Anglican Communion and are listed as a parish in the Anglican Catholic Church, which falls on the opposite end of the theological spectrum. I suppose some theology is better than none.

It looks like the Protestant Anglicans are going to split. I don’t take pleasure in seeing the Body of Christ asunder, but it makes more sense for theologically serious Anglicans to separate into one of two bodies that reflect their theology. Certainly, they agree on far more than they disagree, but to recreate the same latitudinarinism would only invite another fracture later.

I’m surprised the Anglican Communion has lasted these last 450 years. The latitudinarian unity traditionally rested on the Thirty-Nine Articles, which did provide a solid basis of faith. The articles began to fall out as Anglo-Catholics all but rejected the more Protestant articles, and the church in the US then declared that their unity rested on the Lambeth Quadrilateral, moving from 39 relatively specific points of faith to four broad points. Over the intervening years, the national church has become more and more mushy, ejecting more orthodox Christian doctrine, and doing so with less and less concern for traditional Christian members across the spectrum. The ordination of women and gay marriage are not the issues; they are the tipping point for much a much deeper, more fundamental issue.

Update: And it begins.

Apology for the mess

I’m publishing relevant articles here from my main blog, and some of the articles are fairly old. I also did it backwards, meaning that the oldest articles are appearing at the top here. Oh well. I’ll get around to publishing new material shortly.

St. Josef Stalin

Catholicism has a long history of left-wing politics among the laity. In the 70s and 80s, “liberation theologists” tried to institutionalize Marxism, but Pope John Paul II effectively nixed that plan. And North and South American bishops have historically been at the forefront of this left-wing push.

As a result, every community large enough to support two Roman Catholic churches has one left-wing parish, and one conservative parish. I live right across from the left-wing parish here (which I call St. Josef Stalin), but I drive across town to attend the conservative parish.

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Louisville (Kentucky) surely has more Catholic parishes per capita than any other community in the nation. One of these is St. James on Bardstown Road.

St. James is a Byzantine (architecture) church, which looks conservative from the outside. Ah, but go inside, into the dome and look up. The Lidless Eye of Sauron gazes back down at you from the center. We attended Mass there in the early 80s, and the during the Intercessions, the nun prayed that we would give our private property to the State, and for the victory of the Sandanistas. She also strummed the guitar and led the congregation in a rousing chorus of We Shall Overcome (but then, Marxist politics and excessive Vatican II guitar masses go together).

Usually, Marxism isn’t quite so unsubtly expressed. It is much more common to hear “For world peace and social justice, we pray to the Lord,” which of course means the same thing. But John Paul II knew all about Marxism, and was quite firm about purging it from the Church.

Contrast this with St. Louis Bertrand, a south Louisville parish (not far from Churchill Downs) run by Dominicans, or St. Martin of Tours. Instead of leftie politics, both parishes offer daily Novenas for Life (that would refer to abortion, by the way). St. Louis Bertrand is home to the Louisville Blue Army; St Martin of Tours offers Mass in Latin.

The conservative parish here sponsors a weekly Novena across the street from the local Planned Parenthood (to those of you who are protestants, a Novena is not a protest; a Novena is a prayer cycle). St. Josef Stalin across the street from our house does not participate (as a parish, though I’m sure there are parishoners who do — even many left-wing Catholics are pro-life).

At one point in my life, Church history and theology were two of my major interests. I read the Church fathers, and more recent theologians. Though I no longer do, the Church still fascinates me. How can such polarization exist in such a monolithic ecclesiastical organization — or more to the point, how can this polarization exist when the Vatican unambiguously favors one side over the other?

For one thing, the Church avoids entanglements in national politics, unless those politics involve questions of morality (I’m thinking here of the movement to excommunicate Catholic politicians who advocate abortion). For another, the Vatican tends to handle American bishops with kid gloves, partially because they understand that the anti-Catholic fervor in the United States exhibited as late as the 60s (during Kennedy’s campaign) could easily rear its head again. With matters of faith and theology, the Church wields a heavy hand; other matters the Church avoids. Even when the Church issues statements about foreign policy, it does not do so in a way that obligates Catholics to fall in line.

Most of all, however, is apostasy. For the most part, Catholics lapse rather than convert. I believe in One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church resonates within the soul of every Catholic. St. Josef Stalin will waver up to a point — but clergy will not defy the Vatican. To do so is to separate oneself from the Church.

However much I may enjoy sneering at the leftie Kumbayah Mass parishes, I think that ultimately, the fact that they can exist is good for the Church in America. Although they may differ on non-essentials, they provide a home for Catholics who hold leftist beliefs — and since the business of the Church is saving souls, not the violent overthrow of capitalist governments, they should have a home in the Church. Only when the Vatican says, “We stand here,” and the parishoners say, “No, we stand here,” has the line been crossed.

There they go again!

The American Prospect has published an article on how Democrats can win the culture war. If you can’t bear to read this long-winded, bloviating drivel, here is the thesis [emphases mine]:

Incoming Democratic Virginia Governor Tim Kaine, a former Christian missionary in Latin America, learned the importance of cultural appeals early in his campaign. Kaine, Virginia’s first Catholic governor and one of the two major Democratic electoral success stories of 2005, had worked as a court-appointed attorney for inmates on death row while a young attorney. This, he knew, would be a major strike against him in his bid to run a state whose citizens overwhelmingly support the death penalty, and in a contest against the state’s attorney general, who would inevitably accuse him of being soft on crime and a bleeding-heart liberal.

In the spring of 2005 Kaine’s pollster, Peter Brodnitz, of the polling firm Benenson Strategy Group, decided that the campaign needed to develop a strategy to handle such charges. It convened a focus group of white, conservative, religious voters, and explored different ways Kaine could reach out to them. The result was startling. Brodnitz found that once Kaine started talking about his religious background and explaining that his opposition to the death penalty grew out of his Catholic faith, not only did charges that he was weak on crime fail to stick, but he became inoculated against a host of related charges that typically plague and undermine the campaigns of Democratic candidates. “Once people understood the values system that the position grew out of, they understood that’s he’s not a liberal,” says Brodnitz. “We couldn’t even convince them he was a liberal once we’d done that.”

Strategists who had been predicting Democratic success with a more values-based approach considered themselves vindicated. Virginia elected its second Democratic governor in a row, and its first one to survive opposition to the death penalty in an electoral fight. “People appreciate that I have a moral yardstick, and, even if they don’t have the same one, they appreciate that I have one and it’s not all about what a speechwriter puts in front of me or what a pollster tells me,” the governor-elect told the Prospect. That moral yardstick may be just the tool Democrats need.

In other words, they have found a way (they claim here) to fool people into believing they have morals — and we’ll be too stupid to fall for it. How is this a new strategy, exactly? Haven’t they been doing this all along, with their blather about “being for the little guy” while taking positions directly opposite to those of the same little guy?

So yet again, the Democrats show themselves to be the party of superficiality — in fact, right after the election on my old blog, I said as much:

After the election (the gift that keeps on giving!) Democrat after Democrat sat on TV and stated some variant on the “We need to learn how to talk to people in red states” theme. Over and over again, it was the same thing–and still is, because the Democrats are still saying it.

My first reaction to this was to shake my head in disbelief. How to talk to these people? Talk–language–isn’t the issue; issues are the issue. My second reaction was to what the Democrats were implying when they made this statement, that they needed to learn how to “brand” (Clinton’s term) themselves–that is, how to lie in order to seem like they are something other than slobbering, diapered socialists.

This isn’t news, of course, not after Clinton. He campaigned on fiscal conservatism, which he immediately forgot when he was elected. It took Newt Gingrich and the Contract With America Congress elected in 1994 to force Clinton back to the fiscal conservatism on which he campaigned (and now, laughably, for which Democrats take credit).

It didn’t take Whitewater or Monica’s dress for us to figure out that Clinton was a liar. He demonstrated that by turning into a leftwinger as soon as he was elected.

It came as no surprise, then, that Democrats seemed dumbfounded that our President started pushing to fulfil his campaign promises even before the Inauguration. Why wouldn’t it dumbfound them? After all, they run candidates who lie on the campaign trail, condidates who have no intention of fulfilling their campaign promises. That’s what they expected from Bush–and thank God they were disappointed.

It’s not that liberals don’t believe in personal integrity–keeping one’s promises in this case; liberals don’t understand it. They saw no problem with Clinton running as a centrist, then immediately becoming a leftist when he was elected, because that’s an issue of integrity, and even if liberals did understand it, they would ignore it if doing so aided their agenda. This is why to this day, liberals do not understand that Clinton’s impeachment had nothing to do with his getting a blowjob from Monica Lewinsky, and everything to do with his lying under oath. This is also why all of the Democrats who were Clinton’s cheerleaders when he was talking about reforming Social Security before it went bankrupt now claim that there is no crisis, that Social Security is just fine–and why liberals see no problem in doing so.

And it is because liberals do not understand personal integrity that the Democrats have become the party of superficiality, whose current obsession is figuring out how not to look and sound like Marxists while sticking with the same tired platform.

To be fair, though, why would they understand integrity, when you think about it. These are the people who turn cop killers into heros, who malign our military, and who scorn and want to destroy everything this country was founded upon. They wear Che Guevara T-shirts and go to Free Mumia Abu Jamal rallies. They hang U.S. soldiers from their houses in effigy. They believe that criminals are victims, and patently ignore the real victims. They want to forever destroy Federalism in favor of a bloated all-powerful socialist federal government. And most tellingly of all, they swoon at the mention of Chirac and the UN.

Indeed, it would be silly to expect them to understand integrity. They are defined by their utter lack of integrity. The have one and only one thing: an agenda, which they will push no matter what the cost.

Fortunately, there is still a majority of Americans who do understand and believe in integrity, who believe that you should work for a living instead of taking handouts, who support their troops, and who put their country first, right or wrong. And those Americans will flush Democrats into the sewer of their own irrelevance.

Unbelievable

Actually, it’s not. It’s one more example that the ACLU and its affiliates ironically do not understand the Constitution. This is what the establishment clause is supposed to protect — and not putting up Christmas trees.

Oh. You want to know what I’m talking about? Sure. It seems that a single teacher at a Catholic school in New York got pregnant, and told her administrators that she was going to have the baby, but had no intention of marrying the father — and they fired her:

Fired teacher, unwed and pregnant, sues Catholic school
NEW YORK (AP) — The New York Civil Liberties Union has filed a federal discrimination complaint against a Catholic school, charging that it unjustly fired an unmarried teacher for being pregnant.

“I don’t understand how a religion that prides itself on forgiving and on valuing life could terminate me because I’m pregnant and choosing to have this baby,” Michelle McCusker said Monday at a news conference to announce the suit.

The 26-year-old preschool teacher was fired last month from St. Rose of Lima in Queens, according to published reports. The Diocese of Brooklyn also was named in the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission complaint.

“This is a difficult situation for every person involved, but the school had no choice but to follow the principles contained in the teachers’ personnel handbook,” diocese spokesman Frank DeRosa said in a statement.

The handbook says that each teacher must “convey the teachings of the Catholic faith by his or her words and actions.”

What’s amazing is that the NYCLU don’t get it — and they put it on their website:

NEW YORK — The New York Civil Liberties Union today charged a private Catholic school with discriminating against an unmarried Catholic schoolteacher by firing her because she became pregnant.

What part of “private Catholic school” don’t these idiots understand?

“Michelle McCusker was fired because she chose to have a child,” said Donna Lieberman, Executive Director of the NYCLU.

No, moron, she was fired because she chose to have a child out of wedlock, at a private Catholic school. What is so difficult to understand about that?

John Leo identifies a broader problem:

There’s a broader problem: many institutions are now using anti-bias laws and regulations to trample the ministerial function.

No doubt, though that’s not the root problem here. The problem is that the government is not supposed to be able to intrude on non-governmental agencies — you know, as in, for example, private Catholic schools. This is the legacy of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the best legislative example of that chestnut, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Barry Goldwater wouldn’t vote for it for this very reason: The government can adopt all the non-discrimination policies it wants, for its own employees; the government has no business telling anyone else who they may or may not hire or fire, or dictate any “anti-discrimination” policies in the private sector.

It’s fortunate this woman was fired, since she’s too stupid to understand why she got fired — and therefore too stupid to ever be allowed anywhere near a classroom.

Legislate with care

“Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s; and to God, the things that are God’s.”
The Gospel According to St. Matthew, 22:21

This was spawned in part by an article on The Cafeteria is Closed, supporting the ecclesiastical discipline of Catholic legislators who support abortion, and an article on Gay Patriot, about the University of the Cumberlands receiving tax monies from the Commonwealth of Kentucky.

No matter whether I support the stance or not, I strongly disagree with the ecclesiastical discipline of politicians for their voting patterns on issues — and I question whether the Church even has the authority to do so. After all, one who votes for a pro-abortion bill has not, technically, violated any precept over which the Church has authority; were a politician to have an abortion, that would be an entirely different situation, and the Church would have the authority to discipline her.

I question whether one can be a good, practicing Catholic and support abortion, but that is a matter of conscience (and one of ecclesiastical function). That does not mean, however, that I think Kerry or Kennedy, or whoever should be excommunicated because of his stance on abortion law in the United States.

The problem I have with this is that anti-Catholicism is alive and well, and for two hundred years here in the United States it was fueled by the belief that Roman Catholics would put their allegiance to Rome before their allegiance to the United States. This, after all, was the primary reason the Knights of Columbus campaigned for “one nation under God” to be included in the Pledge of Allegiance, and this belief was alive and well as recently as the campaign of John F. Kennedy (this is also why I sympathize with Mitt Romney, who is being put through the same questions Kennedy was).

If the Church starts excommunicating politicians who support abortion, then that belief will again rear its ugly head. And if politicians vote against abortion solely because they fear the discipline of the Church, then that belief is justified, and those politicians should be kicked out of office.

I use abortion here only because it is the key Catholic political hot button, but immigration or gay marriage would be equally applicable.

I am a practicing Catholic, and not a liberal kumbayah Catholic. But I would vote for no politician who would put his allegiance to the Vatican over his allegiance to the United States. And I would encourage other conservative Catholics to ponder this issue deeply before giving it their support. Such things have a way of biting back.

We see this in an incidental point Gay Patriot makes when he discusses the University of the Cumberlands, and whether the university should receive taxpayer funds. He says:

How ironic though that the Blaine Amendment adopted to the Kentucky Constitution, and indeed most state constitutions, during the height of anti-Catholic hysteria in the late 19th-century could now come back to bite them in the ass.

Indeed. The Blaine Amendment, more appropriately termed Blaine Amendments, since the Amendment was never ratified by the Senate but was adopted by all but eleven of the states, was fueled by anti-Catholic hysteria in the 19th century, in response to the large number of Catholic schools that had been established in the United States. Because there were quite a few individual state amendments, I cannot cite the text, but Blaine Amendments denied funding to Catholic students or schools (depending on which one of the various amendments passed).

The Blaine Amendments were pushed by Protestants and Protestant churches and organizations. They were, in fact, the beginning of the “wall of separation between Church and state,” at least in the realm of education.

Here we have an example of how legislation can bite back. The Blaine Amendments, or the “wall of separation” that descended from those amendments, are now being used against Protestants, and they don’t like it. Now, we see Protestants — some of whom feel the same way about Catholics as did their forbears who passed the Blaine Amendments — doing everything they can to undo the damage they created. And though I sympathize, part of me cannot help but feel that they brought it on themselves.

Be careful what you legislate — in Church or state — lest you become a victim of your legislations. As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Ecumenism

When I was younger, I came very close to going to seminary and taking vows. I grew up not far from a Benedictine Archabbey, where I spent a significant amount of time. Even later in life, I spent two weeks at an Orthodox monastery (and let me tell you, that’s hard on your feet — they pray for hours, and if you didn’t know, the Orthodox never sit or kneel, but stand throughout). Church history and theology both fascinate me. End the preface.

Ecumenism was at its most trendy in the 80s, when we lived in Louisville (see here). I can’t say I was impressed then, and am even less so now.

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This might annoy some of my readers, but I see the Church as wounded by the Great Schism. I believe that any movement toward ecumenism should be first with the Orthodox, for whom I have the highest respect.

Neither the Roman Catholic Church nor the Orthodox are rushing into any such ecumenism, unlike the Protestants (I’ll get to them in a moment). After all, the Eastern Orthodox and the Oriental Orthodox have agreed that the agree on all matters of faith, even the dual nature of Christ, yet are moving very slowly toward reconciliation. One of the problems, of course, is Apostolic Succession. Which bishop of Alexandria, for example, is valid?

The reunification of the Western and Eastern Churches is thornier. The issue is, of course, that which caused the Schism in the first place: papal primacy. On theology, there is really no significant block, save perhaps for the filioque, though Rome and the Orthodox have agreed that the clause really represents no theological difference.

The Western and Eastern Churches are both orthodox (with a small ‘o’ referring to faith), and they are both conservative — not necessarily in a political sense, but a theological sense. In fact, the Western and Eastern Churches seem to be almost the only theologically conservative churches left in the world. Of course, this also slows ecumenism; neither is, as I said before, rushing to reunify.

Both have been taking in both individual converts and whole parishes from historically orthodox Protestants, particularly the Anglicans. Both have “Anglican Rite” parishes, in communion with either the Western or Eastern Church, but allowed to worship with their own liturgy.

That isn’t ecumenism. That is the opposite of ecumenism. It’s welcoming those who left the Church back, usually because the converts were disillusioned with the lack of orthodox faith in their own churches.

And that leads us to Protestantism. Although I welcome ecumenical progress between Rome and the Orthodox, I really don’t much care about the same between Rome and Protestant churches. Actually, that’s not entirely correct. I should have said that I am leery of any ecumenical progress between the two (with one exception, as I’ll explain below).

Ironic as it may seem, the one Protestant church with which I struggle the most in terms of possible reunification with Rome is the Anglican Communion — ironic because historically, at any rate, of all the Protestant churches, the Anglican Communion has been the most orthodox, and has had the least theological difference with Rome.

But while other Protestants left the Church in what at least they thought of as good faith, the Church of England did not. I hate to be crass, particularly here, but let’s be honest: the formation of the Church of England, and its split with Rome, was all about Henry VIII wanting some strange, and that’s all it was about. There was nothing even remotely excusable about the origins of the Church of England.

Rome should set as the first condition for reunification with the Anglican Communion that they admit the utter bad faith in which they left the Church.

But any reunification between Rome and Canterbury is unlikely, given how far down the path of “inclusivity” Anglicanism has travelled, to the point that, like nearly all mainstream Protestants, they share no faith or theology, and expect you to believe nothing. The ease with which the Anglicans and Lutherans recently joined, despite very real (at least historically) theological differences, speaks for itself.

There is one orthodox Protestant church I would like to see at least enter into talks with Rome: The Missouri Synod Lutherans. They alone, because of their conservative theology, refused to amalgamate with all the other Lutheran bodies, and now, they remain the only Lutherans in the United States. John Paul II stated that the Church could now call the Augsburg Confession Catholic, in the capital-C sense; that leaves little theologically in the way, other than that sticky papal primacy issue — and of course over six hundred years of antipathy between the two.

I once heard a theologian say that the only Reformation in the Reformation occured in the Church, and that the Reformation was misnamed. I agree. Those who objected could have remained in the Church. They chose instead to leave. I am no great fan of any kind of ecumenism with Protestants for that reason.

None of this means, of course, that I scorn those who attend Protestant churches. We are all brothers and sisters in Christ. Nor does any of this mean that I behave uncharitably toward Protestants. All it means is that when it comes to reunification with Rome, I feel no urge to push the process.

Whither Christendom

God or the Girl is on right now (TiVO) — and believe it or not, it is actually pretty good (and the title really doesn’t describe the show). It’s a very respectful glimpse of three young men who are all struggling with whether they should become priests.

The contrast between this respectful treatment and these “we don’t discriminate, we don’t care what you believe, come to our church” commercials is striking — and led me to this blog entry.

It seems the Christendom has divided into two halves: The churches that hold to their convictions, and the churches that seem to see themselves as large group therapy sessions.

In the first group, we have Roman Catholicism, Eastern (and Oriental) Orthodoxy, the LDS, and the conservative Protestant churches. In the second, we have the so-called “mainstream” Protestant denominations.

Even though all of the churches in the former group don’t necessarily share the same theology, they are all similar in one important way: They see themselves as communities of faith, while the second group see themselves as communities of … well, what?

When we gather for the Mass or Divine Liturgy, we do so as a community of believers. We recite the Nicene Creed to confirm our belief. We pray the same prayers together, because we are a community of believers. The Eucharist is the celebration of our community, where all who profess the faith partake of the Body and Blood of our Lord. We gather to worship as members of a community that goes back to the beginning of Christianity — this is why we have an order for the Mass or the Divine Liturgy, one that changes very little over time. On any given day, the Mass or the Divine Liturgy is the same all over the world; we are not just a community in our own parish, but worldwide.

Yes, the Roman Catholics have moonbat clergy and members who want to change the church into a Unitarian Universalist clone (note that the Orthodox do not), but the church is not a democracy, and the Benedict XVI is starting to stand firmly against it. The Anglican Communion is being torn apart by the same factions, though without a rigid hierarchy, the Anglicans may very well split, especially since the Anglicans long ago dropped doctrinal allegiance from their priority list. And I’m not trashing the Anglicans; I feel a great deal of sympathy for Anglican believers and the situation in which they find themselves. Nor is the problem one of a single issue, such as the ordination of women; these “issues” come in constellations, and always with a watered down, feel good, build your self-esteem and be included theology.

This is why ecumenism is such a thorny issue for the former group, yet comes so easily to “mainstream” Protestants. It’s a matter of belief. Doctrine. Theology.

From the former perspective, ecumenism is difficult enough with churches in which you are in near total theological unity: Rome and Orthodoxy, for example. It is difficult because there are no “picky” points when it comes to doctrine. One phrase added to the Nicene Creed (the filioque) can block unity until one side moves.

But how do you unify with a church that requires very little in the way of belief from its members? Community cantatas and prayer services are all very well, but the ultimate goal of ecumenism is full communion, and if you commune because you are part of a community of believers, how then do you allow non-believers to commune?

All of the former churches know exactly who they are, and exactly what they believe. The latter churces not only do not know, but do not care, or see why it should be an issue. And indeed, if you have redefined yourself to be some kind of social club, where faith and doctrine have taken a back seat to inclusivity and political correctness even to the point that you no longer care if your clergy believe in the Divine nature of Jesus Christ, why would you care about faith?

I’m not a big fan of Protestantism when it comes to faith and theology. However, I have the utmost respect for the Protestant churches who have refused to water down faith in favor of “inclusion,” and like Catholicism and Orthodoxy, have drawn a line in the sand and state, “This is who we are and what we believe, and we don’t care whether you approve or not.” However much we may differ on matters of faith, we both belong to communities of believers.

It is not the purpose of the Church to make you feel good about yourself, improve your self-esteem, give you warm fuzzies, make you feel included no matter what, or validate you. The “mainstream” Protestants have lost sight of why the Church exists, and have nothing to offer congregants they can’t get watching Oprah on TV.

Christian kool-aid

One thing that bothers me is that it certainly seems that every time I read a Christian blog, the author drinks the “Socialism is Christian” kool-aid. Given that most churches also partake of the Stalinist beverage to some extent (that includes Rome and to a lesser extent, the Orthodox), I suppose this shouldn’t be surprising. But let’s look at this for a moment from a Christian point of view.

Remember the Ten Commandments? Two are relevant here:

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his manservant, nor his maidservant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s.

and

Thou shalt not steal.

How, exactly, does one reconcile the redistribution of wealth with these commandments? Deciding to steal someone’s property “democratically” is still stealing. Theft is theft. John’s property is John’s property, and voting to steal it is voting to steal it, and nothing more. And yes, it’s that black and white.

Socialist governmental policies (entitlement programs, food stamps, welfare, “progressive” taxation) are not only not Christian; they violate the Ten Commandments, and no matter what the official policy of any church may be, they are therefore anti-Christian. Yes, the poor should be helped — willingly, and not by stealing from others.

Yes, the welfare of society is the business of the church — and this is why churches sponsor charities. But churches should condemn welfare programs as the anti-Christian, immoral policies they are.

And that’s my two cents.