Confession Follow-up
A reader sent me an email the other day. She wanted me to say more about my ideas about the Sacrament of Confession. It seems that in all of my concern about authentic self-knowledge, I left out the practical component. If you haven't read my previous posts on the Sacrament of Confession you can read them here, here, here, and, here.
I want to make something clear (because I probably wasn't). My insistence on the need for having a conversation with the priest in the confessional is in no way advocating for turning the Sacrament of Confession into a spiritual direction session. On the contrary, I want you in and out of "the box" as quickly as possible. Nor am I suggesting that you shouldn't just tell the priest your sins, number and kind, and let him give you the proper penance and sacramental absolution. Actually this is my ideal. Unfortunately, there's, I think, a problem with the way priests are taught to hear confessions these days.
The problem is that most priests think that they're able to discern the subjective culpability you have for a particular sin you've committed. But the reality is, this is impossible. Nobody, simply judging from external actions (or an account of external actions), can discern the subjective culpability anyone has for any particular act. We're even incapable of accurately discerning the precise state of our own individual souls. Only God can judge this accurately. Even so, we, as individual penitents, are a better judge of the subjective state of our soul than the priest to whom we confess. The error that the priest can act as some sort of divine, viz., making precise judgments about the culpability you have for your sins, is what leads to a priest telling a penitent that something he confessed isn't a sin. This is something the priest simply can't know. The only exception is if the action the person confesses is not objectively a sin. But the reality is, all sinful actions are confessable matter.
Now don't get me wrong, the priest has a hard job. He does have an obligation to help protect people against scrupulosity. This is really hard to detect. It's hard to detect because one man's scrupulosity is another man's sanctity. This is the reason why I advocated having a conversation with the priest. If you are able to communicate to him that you are not suffering from scrupulosity you should. In my mind, the only way to do this is by expressing healthy self-knowledge. This can look very simple. In fact, if you are able to make a good examination of conscience, this self-knowledge should be easily expressed. It could look something like this:
"Father, bless me for I have sinned … etc., in that time I've {insert list of sin here}. Of these, the ones that bother my conscience the most are {sins}."
or
"Father, bless me for I have sinned … etc., I don't discern any mortal sin on my conscience, but, I would like to confess these venial sins {insert list of sins here}."
Get the gist?
As a penitent approaching the Sacrament of Reconciliation it is your responsibility to spend a lot of time preparing. Just like we must prepare ourselves to fruitfully assit at Mass, or any other Sacrament, we must also prepare ourselves for receiving the Sacrament of Penance. If you spend the proper time in preparation, your confessions will be more fruitful. If you need spiritual direction, try not to use the Sacrament of Confession for that purpose. Instead, make an appointment for spiritual direction. One is a poor replacement for the other.
I Met A Man
Sometimes there's a man ...
I was at Starbucks* the other day. Coffee shops are great. They are one of the last places where any sort of conversation with any sort of person can freely and spontaneously happen. So, this guy asked me about my life. He was fascinated that I was a Dominican friar. He was a life long atheist. He was also delightfully contentious. Being contentious myself, I immediately loved the guy.
He couldn't fathom how I could live a life dedicated to something he considered absurd. Admittedly, I was ill prepared for his line of questions. I was at a loss for a simple answer that he could accept. He caught me flat footed. I'm not accustomed to that feeling. His questions were like surprise machine gun fire in a dark jungle. I found myself taking cover in tangents. As the saying goes, "If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your ..." My pride couldn't handle lacking a smart response.
The worst thing was that he was genuinely interested. It was almost as if he was daring me to finally give him a reason to believe. He was remarkable. Like many atheists I know, he had a résumé of good humanitarian works that he readily shared. His love and respect for this earthly life was something to be emulated. But, it was also part of his stumbling block. His this-worldly focus obscured his spiritual vision.
It's a fine balance. Similar to driving a car you must be able to see what is right before your eyes while also looking forward to what is ahead of you. Both the proximate and the remote are important. If you only care about those things near to you, the proximate, the worldly, then you will lack an ultimate purpose. After all, the sun will explode some day. All human endeavors will end in fire. But if you only concern yourself with what is ahead, the remote, the heavenly, then you life will miss the life that you have been given and the suffering of others. Perhaps, there is a better way to think about this.
Balance is not the Christian way. The Christian way of life should be characterized by excess. It is a life of extravagance. We are called by God to love everyone and everything with an absurd level of intensity. This is why we must always love God first. The intensity with which we love God will always qualify the love that we have for creatures. In fact, if we try to go the other way around, if we try to love God by way of the creature our love for both God and others will always be a lesser love than what's possible.
Love is a dynamic power. It increases itself as it is practiced. By loving God with every ounce of our being we will experience his love. His love is greater than all other possible loves. He is, after all, the source of love. By drawing love from the unfathomable depths of God's love we will find our love for everyone and everything else increased.
This is what I should have shared with the man at Starbucks. I should have told him that I have dedicated my life to love. I have consecrated myself to love. It's absurd, yes. But, it's an absurdity worth any earthly sacrifice imaginable.
* I'm aware that there are many reasons to not like Starbucks. But, they have reliable free wifi and until I have a portable hotspot this is my solution.
Humility
I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts today. During the show one host started recounting his experience with a devoutly Catholic friend – a jurist from Notre Dame. The description of his experience with this friend was less then edifying. The host's friend, presumably an acclaimed jurist, tends to send the host chastening missives concerning faith, morals, and the like. The lawyer lectures him.
I'm sure that the host's friend is well intentioned. However, his approach isn't having the desired effect. Instead, the host seems to feel that those who approach life from a deeply held position of faith are intellectualy unassailable. This is percieved by the host of this podcast as a lack of intellectual humility. Conviction or certitude has been perceived as being pridefull.
This is troubling on a number of levels. I'll begin with my concern about the host's ideas. One problem is the faulty belief that there can be an ideology that lacks a dogmatic core. This is the same as making a judgment without it being based in a principle. This is a logical impossibility. The Anglicans have done a great job of showing us that acceptance of all ideas and opinions quickly becomes its own strongly held and rigorously defended dogma. They have also shown us that this is an impossible position to maintain. It's self-contradictory. This sort of intellectual indifferentism (relativism) is doomed. Once it encounters a position that doesn't accept relativism it has no choice but to anathematize it. It is forced to become unaccepting of the unaccepting.
While I'm concerned with the problem of relativism I'm more concerned with the "pastoral" approach of the host's friend. I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Lord knows I've been guilty of the smug self-righteous approach to "helping" unbelievers "understand." Now, I'm working hard to present the faith differently. I've learned that it is unhelpful to just simply assert what you think or know to be true. You may be 100% right. Guess what? No one cares? If I disagree with someone and I don't take the time to discover why they believe as they do, then I don't really love them. On the contrary, I would be more interested in being right.
But, being right isn't everything.
Yes. It is true that my faith is unassailable. But my faith isn't simply an emotional response to some feeling or experience. It isn't something that was simply handed on to me by my family or culture. Yes, there are bits and pieces of these influences in my faith. But, my faith was hard won. My faith isn't even a rational response to sound propositions. Eventhough it is the reasonability of the Catholic faith that keeps me in it when I inevtabilly doubt. Rather, my faith is a gift. It is a gift that the Lord gave me. I have chosen to take that gift and make that gift the center of my life. I want to share this gift with everyone. I want my gift to give others the same joy that it gives me. I want to hand it on to others just as it was handed on to me.
I bet the Catholic Jurist feels the same way. But, for better or for worse, the experience of the faith that he is portraying lacks the depth of joy and peace that characteries the faith. He's letting himself get in the way of the faith.
The most important thing in my life is God. I radically self-identify with this part of me. It permeates all of who I am. After all, I've proessed vows in a religious order. To get to know me is to come in contact with my faith. If I'm a jerk then people's experience of the faith is tarnished. The faith becomes something not worth having. It appears to others as not delivering on its promises. As an old boss of mine would constantly say, "They don't cares about what you know until they know how much you care." Yeah, it's a little hippy, a little too 7 Habits. But, you know what, it's true.
Family
I believe that it was Tolstoy who said, "behind every family is a mess."
But, you know, it's a mess worth digging through. I don't really want to say too much about this point. I just want everyone to take some time to think about their families. Yes, family members can hurt us in both unexpected and deep ways. We will all probably need years of counseling as a result of living with all those crazy maniacs. But, nobody else in this world can look at you with such an easy, natural love.
Make an effort to return that gaze.
I pray that God will effect healing in each of your families. Pray for mine.
Home Visit
Posting will continue to be sparse. I'm in New Mexico visiting friends and family. I promise to pick up the pace once the semester starts up again. Until then, check in because I will have an occasional offering.
I also have another project in the works ... I assure you. It will be awesome.
Subdeacon
I want to begin with a disclaimer. I've been trying to figure out how to articulate an experience I had on Christmas. I'm not sure words can do justice to the experience. But, I figured that I should try.
Over a decade ago, while I was a diocesean semenarian, I was taught by some great guys how to properly serve the Holy Mass. I had, of course, learned the rubrics at my home parish. However, the guys at the seminary taught me how to internalize those rubrics. I was taught how the order of worship, the physical actions, are an intrinsic part of Liturgy. They taught me the significance of each action. But, more importantly, they taught me how to make each step, each gesture, an act of prayer.
I've always treasured this gift. It's always served me in my Catholic life. After all, does not the Church affirm that the Sacramental Life, i.e., the liturgical life, is the constitutive character of Christianity? Everything is ordered to worship and everything flows from worship. The physical movements in the Liturgy, regardless of one's mode of participation, serve as the vehicle for offering a spiritual sacrifice to the Lord. This is why fidelity to the rubrics of the Liturgy, especially the Mass, is so important. It's only through the fixed structures in the Liturgy that the authentic spontineaity of the spirit becomes fully manifest. It is a fundamental mistake to think that the reverse is true. Regularity is a necessary condition for contemplation.
As a Dominican friar the gift that those men gave me has grown, developed, and flowered in various ways. Yesterday, however, that gift reached a level of intensity that heretofore I'd never experienced nor anticipated.
There's a new monestary of Carmelite Nuns here in the San Francisco Bay Area. Some of us friars have been offering Mass for them at their chapel when we are able. These nuns exclusively use the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite in their Monestary. So, when we come to their Monestary we celebrate our own Dominican Rite of Mass. Usually it is a Low Mass or a Missa Cantata (High Mass). However, on Christmas we were able to celebrate a Solemn Mass for them. I served as the Subdeacon for the Mass.
[For those unfamiliar with the Dominican Rite (or other more ancient forms of Mass as celebrated in the Latin Church I would suggest consulting your favorite search engine) it is similar to the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite.]
The order of Mass according to the Dominican Rite is complex. There's a lot to remember –– especially for the Subdeacon. You'd think that, as a result, it wouldn't be conducive to contemplation. My experience, however, was remarkable. I've served as an acolyte for both the Low Mass and the Missa Cantata regularly. However, serving as a Major Minister in our Rite had a different feel to it. It was intense.
God has granted me, over the years, a few opportunities where I've found myself in a spiritually enraptured state while serving Mass. It can be embarasing when it interferes with liturgical duties. But, my experience on Christmas was different even than this. It was as if I was given an opportunity to experience the truth about liturgical time. We say: in the Divine Liturgy of the Church our human time enters into eternity. This is how the Mass is a re-presentation of Christ's Paschal Mystery. It's not a repetition of it, simulation of it, or some new sacrifice. Each time Mass is offered we access the one Sacrifice that Christ made for us all. We stand at Calvary with the Blessed Mother and all the faithful. I believe it! The Mass lasted about one and a half hours; yet, it felt like five or ten minutes. But again, it wasn't like getting sucked into the online world or video games or some task of interest. Indeed, a similar phenomenon can occur in those sorts of activities. Instead, it was ... well ... different. The experience had a different character, a different feel. The intensity I experienced was radically peaceful. St. Theresa of Avila's "sober innebriation" is the only phrase that seems to fit.
My mind is still swimming as a result of this experience. I'm still trying to fit together and articulate its profundity. Each detail of the experience held deep significance. For instance, wearing a Dalmatic for the first time was really akward at first. Yet, on the other hand it was a tremendous confirmation of my vocation to be a priest. Holding the patten before my eyes while covered with the Humeral Veil brought to mind the descriptions of those holy angels who veil themselves before the presence of the Lord. The symbols used in the rite are amazing. They help the human mind realize that in the Liturgy we are joined with heavenly realities. We become true participants in a Cosmic Liturgy. For that brief time I was deeply aware that we were in the midst of the angels and saints worshiping God in both spirit and truth.
Can't Plan For Crazy
“The gunman who slaughtered 20 children and six adults at a Connecticut elementary school may have snapped because his mother was planning to commit him to a psychiatric facility.”
We know that gun laws don't protect us from law abiding citizens. We know that gun laws don't protect us against criminals. However, would stricter gun laws protect us from crazy people?
Are we willing, as Americans, to compromise the 2nd Amendment to the Constitution to protect ourselves from this unpredictable element of society?
Newtown
When I was a layman I did a lot of work with teenagers. My home parish had (and continues to have) an outstanding LifeTeen program. Our teen years some pretty amazing years. Indeed, they are painful. However, they are wondrous. When you're on the cusp of entering the adult world everything is exciting. Everything is new. But, unless you have experienced great trauma as a child you are never quite prepared for just how cruel the adult world is. This, I think, is why teens are always asking the theodicy question. How can there be an all good, all knowing, all powerful God and there still be suffering in the world? It seems that one is mutually exclusive of the other. Either God exists or suffering exists. Either that or God is a sadist.
My answer is simple yet unsatisfying. Evil exists in this world so that love can exist in this world. To put it more precisely, the same underlying principle that resides in the human powers of action that allows us to commit the greatest atrocities is the same principle that allows us to commit the simplest act of love. We call this power of action freedom. If we are to be free to love, then we must also be free to not love. This is a simple fact of our human world. The possibility of real love could not come about in any other way. Like I said, however, this answer is true but it is unsatisfying. It leaves a bitter taste in our mouth.
We desperately want to the world to work another way. Deep down inside we want the world we thought existed when we were children. We want to be sheltered from the adult world. We want heaven. As children we were protected from the brutality that characterizes most of human experience. But, as we get older we gain entry into the brutality of the adult world – the real world. It's in our teenage years that we are first fed the vile bitterness of real human suffering. We all know this. We have all experienced it. I think this is one reason why we become so outraged when a child is exposed to the adult world. We know that children aren't ready. Hell, we aren't ready!
When we see images of children crying, terrified, eyes closed, following rescue personnel to safety, we react. We react with every fiber of our biology and every ounce of our spirit. Rightly so! Who wouldn't? Who couldn't? But it's not just their plight that we are raging against. It's also our own. When we see senseless tragedy all the hard won comfort we achieved in our world comes crashing down on our heads. We become scared children again, looking out on a world that we can't fully understand. A frightening world where everything is reaching out to harm us and those who we love.
When this fear takes hold of us we eventually turn to God. Even the atheist does, if only to mock God's existence. Some turn to him for comfort and shelter. Others turn to him with seething anger. Eventually we blame God that children were murdered. Why? Do we think that God has failed because there is a tragedy of unspeakable sorrow? It seems that this is our instinct. But why? Why do we think that God is supposed to make things better? Why do we assume that he is some divine safety blanket who exists to shield us from sorrow, pain, madness, and suffering? Because he has told us to call him Father. When we become those terrified children we look for a savior. Aren't fathers supposed to protect their children? God seems no better than any deadbeat dad.
My own natural tendency is cynicism. This is born from my own battle scars. Maybe you have the same ones? When there is a tragedy I start looking for God's used car salesmen. I look around to see who is trying to sell me God and I want to know what they're selling. Are they selling a God who is a safety blanket? Will be comfort me in the darkness and feed me in times of famine? Will be he carry all of my suffering? Will he make me feel good about myself? Will he make me feel safe in this world? Will he save all his children? When a salesman is offering something too good to be true, it probably is.
We must learn to hold some difficult things in tension. First, we must remember that God gave each of us the freedom to love or to not love. When we chose not to love God isn't happy. He empathizes with those who are harmed. He empathizes with the one who choses to harm. However, he isn't going to interfere with the freedom of the one who has chosen to not love. If he did, we would not be truly free. Without the freedom to do evil we would also lack to freedom to love. So, the question shouldn't be, "Why does God allow bad things to happen?" Instead, the question should be, "Why do people chose not to love?"
This is a question without an answer. Seek your own heart? When have you chose to not love. Why? Why would you chose to not love? You've done it, I've done it. We chose to not love all the time. Why do we fail to do the one thing that we all want? If you can figure that one out, let me know.
Finals
Advent is the time of year when we are called to prepare the way for the coming of the Lord. Part of this preparation is the process of purgation. We must un-clutter our lives to make room for the Lord. He greatly desires to dwell within your heart. Everyone must determine for themselves what must be purged. One must clear a space, so to speak.
Those of us nailed firmly to the wood of the desk are not exempt. It is my hope to consider both final papers and assignments to be part of this process. As each task is completed there will be more room for the Lord in my mind and in my heart. The anxiety that accompanies these tasks will be replaced with an urgency. I must hurry and finish cleaning my house because the Lord is coming. He will not delay.
Blessed Advent! Pray for all the students who are super stressed right now. They may not realize how much they need your spiritual support. Also, I will not be as active online until I am once again free to pursue extracurricular activities.
