Family and Church Communities

 I’ve written three previous blog entries about communities and ones that I’ve been involved with. There are two that I haven’t touched on: family and church.

During my thinking about community, the family came up in a number of different ways. With so much mobility in our contemporary world, many parents find their children not close to them. We currently have sons living in New Jersey, Rhode Island and California. Contrast that with my wife’s family where five of her mother’s siblings lived in the same town as she did. Or my parents’ situation where, when they retired, they moved to a town where three of my mother’s siblings were living.

In thinking about family as a community, I think about our situation when our four sons were growing up. Our life, as parents, was focused around our family and our children. Certainly there were times when Pat and I arranged for a baby sitter and went out for dinner. But most of the time, our focus was on our family. Our activities were family activities. Our vacations were family vacations. As our boys got older and started school, we made friends with parents of kids they were in school with. When they started playing sports and got involved in band and theater, we made new friends with parents of kids involved in those activities. Pat and I and our sons formed a small community and the larger communities we were involved in had connections to our family community.

I grew up as an only child. My father left Canada as a teen-ager and most of my relatives on his side of the family are in Canada and I have met few of them. On my mother’s side of the family, I had only 3 cousins, who did not live near us. (One has passed away and the other two now live in California.) My wife, on the other hand, has four siblings who live within two hours of our house in NJ. She stays in close touch with her siblings and through them keeps up with what their kids are up to. Over the last few years, we have gotten together with her siblings and their spouses a couple times a year. I look forward to these get-togethers and sharing a meal and conversation with them. Over the years, there have been regular family gatherings with the larger family (Pat’s siblings and their kids and grandkids). The larger family gatherings give us, our children and grandchildren the opportunity to stay connected to our family community.

The Catholic parish we belonged to for more than 40 years was also an important community for me in a number of ways. Our regular participation at Sunday Mass provided an opportunity to express and deepen my faith in God and Jesus Christ as part of a worship community. Having come of age around the time of the Second Vatican Council, I approached Sunday liturgies as a community experience, not just as an individual worship experience. When I was growing up, attendance at Mass was more of a spectator experience, following along in our English language Missal as the priest, with his back to us, recited the Latin prayers. But Vatican II put the emphasis of the liturgy on the community and spoke of the priesthood of all the faithful, not just the ordained among us.

So I benefitted from the larger community of the parish. But Pat and I also were part of smaller communities within the parish. We were involved in Pre-Cana (marriage preparation for engaged couples) and the Food for the Needy Committee, which organized a Thanksgiving food drive that provided the fixings for Thanksgiving dinner for 400 families. We were also Eucharistic Ministers, so we established connections with others involved in that ministry. I was involved for about 10 years in the parish High School youth group. In each of those activities we established connections with the others involved.  Additionally, when you go to the same Sunday Mass for over 40 years (we almost always attended the 9:30 am or 11 am Mass), you see the same people every week and feel a connection with many of them. Also, when our boys were growing up, the sports teams they played on were teams organized by the parish.

This blog entry is the fourth one I’ve written about community. I’ve described may communities I’ve been involved in: one that involves a reunion with friends I was in minor seminary with; some that I did not actively choose and others I entered into by choice; some that were small and others large; some that were short-term and others long-term. They’ve all helped give my life meaning and a sense of belonging. They’ve provided me with support networks as I dealt with ups and downs in my life. Writing about them has brought back memories of the communities I’ve been involved in during various periods of my life. I’m grateful to all of the people who were part of these communities for their friendship and their support. I trust you have had similar experiences of communities that have supported and sustained you in your life. Be grateful for them!

Changes in the Catholic Church since the 1960's

A lot of changes took place in the Church as a result of the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II). I’ve written about Mass being celebrated in the language spoken by the people attending it, rather than in Latin, and the altar being moved so the priest was facing the people instead of having his back to them. But these were only a small part of the changes. There was an emphasis on making the Church more relevant to the people. There was less emphasis on following the rules and more emphasis on understanding God’s love for us and bringing God’s love into the world. There was an increased emphasis on caring for God’s children who live in poverty, or are hurting or disabled. There was involvement in the Civil Rights movement and ministering to those living in the inner cities and poor rural areas of our country. I’ve written before about Fr. Brian McCormick and his ministry to the Wilbur section of inner-city Trenton (see my July 16, 2012 blog). I think his ministry there was very symbolic of the changes in the Church begun by Vatican II.

However, even soon after Vatican II some in the Church wanted to roll back the changes being made. During the papacies of John Paul II and Benedict XVI, there was a big focus on orthodoxy and compliance with the doctrine of the Church as interpreted by the Pope. There was an investigation into the practices of American nuns who saw their mission as ministering to the poor and needy. Fortunately, in my opinion, we now have a Pope whose focus is more on the pastoral care of Catholics (and people in general) and less on adherence to doctrine.

Often, the focus of the Church hierarchy is demonstrated through seemingly small actions, that are symbolic of the vision of the faith that they are pushing. For example, during the papacy of Benedict, there was a change in the translation of prayers used in the Mass that was ostensibly to make them more in line with the actual wording of the prayers in Latin. However, one of the results was to remove language that was simpler and easier to understand and replace it with language that most people will find less understandable and harder to relate to. For example, during the Creed at Mass, instead of being “born” Jesus is now “incarnate” of the Virgin Mary; instead of “one in being with the Father” he is “consubstantial with the Father”.

In Practicing Catholic, James Carroll writes about how, in the Church in which he grew up, before Vatican II, a main theme was our unworthiness as human beings (“Domine non sume dignus”; “Lord, I am not worthy”). With Vatican II, the focus changed to the love God has for us, that we are all his children. We see this with  Pope Francis and his emphasis on Mercy. But some prayers at Mass focus more on our sinfulness than God’s love and mercy. At the beginning of Mass, we pray the Confiteor, which begins “I confess to almighty God …” Until recently we recited “that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and what I have failed to do …” This has been changed to the more severe wording “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, through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault …” The emphasis is back on our unworthiness. Frequently, during this prayer, I think “I haven’t greatly sinned” and it’s not “through my most grievous fault” (emphasis mine). I also think about the seventy and eighty year olds around me and have a hard time picturing them greatly sinning.

Another effect of Vatican II was an emphasis on simplicity. After my six years in the minor seminary at St. Charles College, I would go on to the major seminary (two years of studying Philosophy and then four years of studying Theology). In our minds, moving on to major seminary was a big deal. And there were symbols of this important step. In the minor seminary, we wore jackets and ties to chapel, classes, meals, etc. In the major seminary, we would wear cassocks (with a white surplice added when we went to chapel). During our last year at St. Charles, we would be fitted for and purchase cassocks and surplices. I remember specifically wanting to have a surplice that had a simple design. The one I purchased was made of heavy cotton, with no decorative aspects. I think this idea of simplicity was also reflected in changes to liturgical garments and vessels. Chasubles (outer garment worn by the priest during Mass) started to be made out of less silky-looking material and had a plainer design. Many priests ordained after Vatican II chose chalices (the cup used at Mass) that had a plainer design. I remember some of the chalices of the younger priests having a ceramic outside (gold on the inside) that more resembled a cup.  These newer designs reflected the concept of the priest being a humble servant of the people. Simplicity replaced the more elaborate designs that in earlier days emphasized adoration of a transcendent God. These days, we seem to be moving back to an adoring mode. For example, I’ve noticed that seminarians coming to our parish seem to be wearing surplices with decorative lace designs at the bottom of the sleeves and at the waist.

Here are links to some elaborate and simple styles of chasubles, surplices and chalices to illustrate:

Simple chasuble

Elaborate chasuble

Simple surplice (this is very similar to the surplice I chose for myself)

Elaborate surplice

Simple chalice

Elaborate chalice

I realize that there are those who believe that God is primarily a transcendent God (that is, that God is greater than human beings and our world and therefore our relationship to God should be one of adoration). One way of showing our adoration is to include in our worship services objects of great beauty to reflect how awesome God is. Others (I include myself here) believe that, while God is in fact greater than all we know and can imagine, he became a human being in the person of Jesus Christ, to show God’s love for us and that God’s presence remains among us. Fr. RichardRohr, founder of The Center for Action and Contemplation, has written that “Jesus does not ask us to worship him. He asks us to follow him.”

In many ways the spirit of Vatican II has dissipated over the years. Pope John XXIII emphasized the principle of collegiality (bishops sharing in authority with the Pope). The Second Vatican Council was a shining example of collegiality. But John XXIII died before the end of the Council and was succeeded by Pope Paul VI. In Practicing Catholic, James Carroll writes that Paul VI ordered the Council to not take up the issue of birth control. It would be handled by the Pope. Paul VI later issued an encyclical reaffirming the Church’s prohibition of artificial contraception. The windows opened by John XXIII have been gradually closing. But Pope Francis seems intent on opening them up again. He emphasizes serving the poor. He condemns the lavish lifestyles of some “princes of the Church” and has had showers built in the Vatican for homeless people to use. I was pleased to read an article in “Network Connection” (a publication of Network, a Catholic social justice lobbying group) that included an interview with John Gehring, author of The Francis Effect. In it, he said “I heard from these seminarians that the pope is challenging them to encounter people, to recognize that their most significant challenge is not to preach doctrine, but to attract people to the faith and tap into what he calls the ‘freshness and fragrance of the gospel’. They were touched that he didn’t move into the Apostolic Palace, for example.” He also said that they understood that “their job as seminarians is to learn about the doctrine of the faith, but they see a pastor who is pope challenging them to recognize that the greatest doctrine of the church is good news for the poor and mercy.”

A while ago I received a bookmark from the National Catholic Reporter (NCR) that featured a Pope Francis comic strip (this is a regular feature in NCR). I thought this comic strip provided a good visual representation of the outlooks and focuses of the last few popes.

I am grateful that we have a Pope who is looking forward and is preaching a gospel of love and mercy for all men and women.

Changes in the Catholic Church in the 1960's

When I was growing up, the Mass was in Latin and the priest who celebrated the Mass faced the altar, which was against the wall, and had his back to the congregation. The advantage of the Mass being in Latin was that you could go to Mass anywhere in the world and it would be the same. There was consistency and familiarity in it. The disadvantage, of course, was that you could not understand what the priest was saying. Many Catholics had a Missal that included the prayers in their own language. But others attending the Mass would do things such as pray the Rosary. The Mass was an activity where the priest re-enacted Christ's Last Supper, when he changed bread into Christ’s body and wine into his blood. The Mass also was a re-enactment of Christ's sacrifice on the cross, in which he saved us from our sins, through his death and resurrection. The priest was an "alter Christus" (another Christ) and by his actions we were brought to salvation. No need for us to understand what was going on or to participate in the process.

One of the most obvious effects of the Second Vatican Council was the changes in the Mass. And the biggest change was that the Mass was prayed in the vernacular (that is, the language of the people participating in the Mass). In his book, Practicing Catholic, James Carroll writes about how different the experience of attending Mass in English was for him: “And once Catholics entered into the mystery of the Mass as literate participants instead of as passive spectators, an unprecedented renewal took hold – and my own steadfast devotion to Mass attendance until now is a measure of it.” He also describes “The arrival of English in the liturgy, and the resulting transformation of my own experience of worship …”

Additionally, the concept of the Mass changed from a sacrifice to a meal. The Mass was the re-enactment of the Last Supper and the Last Supper was a meal that Jesus shared with his apostles. The altar changed from an altar of sacrifice to an altar table around which the faithful gathered. The priest no longer faced away from the congregation, performing a ritual that they could not see. Instead, the altar was moved away from the wall and the priest faced the congregation and they could see what he was doing and could now understand the prayers, because he spoke them in their language. The congregation became an integral part of the liturgy of the Mass. Vatican Council documents even referred to the "priesthood of the laity" (the term laity referring to those Church members who were not ordained priests).

These changes came about while I was at St. Charles College minor seminary (high school and 2 years of college). St. Charles was a seminary for young men who aspired to be parish priests. The order of priests who ran the seminary was the Sulpicians (the Order of St. Sulpice). Training young men to be parish priests was the mission of their order. As with any change, some Catholics were more receptive to the changes occurring in the Church than others. Even within the clergy (priests, bishops, etc.), there were some who embraced the changes more wholeheartedly than others. For the most part, it seemed that it was the younger Sulpicians who were most enthusiastic about the changes coming forth from the Vatican Council.

One of the spiritual activities we participated in at the seminary was weekly confession. Each of us was assigned a "confessor" (a priest to whom we would go on a weekly basis to confess our sins, to be counseled about our situation and to have our sins forgiven). As freshmen in high school, we were assigned to a specific priest and given a time for our weekly confession. After that first year we could request a different confessor. During my first two years, I had a confessor who had been a priest for a number of years. I would consider him pretty traditional. I would go to my weekly confession and recite my sins; he would give some words of advice and then forgive my sins.

During my junior year, I was assigned to a different confessor. He was new to the

seminary and had been recently ordained a priest. I don't think I requested him. I think I just asked for a change of confessors. I was very lucky. Because I have always felt that he changed my life and I became a much better person and more serious about my faith because of him. For most of the time since then, I thought that the change occurred because he helped me to see that God loved me and that I was a good person, who was capable of doing many good things in my life. Recently, while reading Practicing Catholic, I got a different insight into this. In the book, James Carroll talks about the Church (the Catholic Church in general) in which he grew up (the same one in which I grew up; he is 4 years older than I am) emphasizing how we are all sinners who are unworthy of God (“Domine non sum dignus” – “Lord, I am not worthy”). The emphasis in the Church was on obedience to the Ten Commandments and the rules of the Church. James Carroll writes about having to obey The Rule during his seminary training. The Rule was a set of requirements for training future priests that was established by the Council of Trent in the 16th century. The motto in the seminary James Carroll attended was "Keep the Rule and the Rule will keep you." The main responsibility of the seminarian was obedience. And I think that was the main responsibility of Catholics in general. To get to heaven, you needed to be obedient to the Commandments and the teachings of the Church.

I now believe that what happened during my junior year with this new confessor is that he emphasized to me and to the other seminarians for whom he was confessor that God is love, that he loves us and wants us to bring his love to others. During this time of the Vatican Council, the message of the Church to its members changed from "God is a God who punishes us for our sins" to "God is a God of Love". I still believe that my junior year confessor helped me change my life. But I now see this, not just as his individual message to the seminarians he was counseling, but as related to a major change that was happening in the Church. For those Catholics who grew up in the 1970s and later, this idea of a punishing God may seem foreign because, from the 1960s on, the Church's message in religion classes and homilies has been about a loving God. But, before that time, God was someone to be feared not loved.

For us seminarians, this change meant no longer being sheltered from “the world”, as we had been in the seminary. Prior to Vatican Council II, we had been taught that the ways of the world were in conflict with the ways of our religion. Now, we were expected to engage with the world and bring God’s love into it. The world saw this reflected in the participation of priests in civil rights marches and demonstrations; in their involvement in anti-war protests; in churches in inner-cities offering soup kitchens and other services to poor people, including those who did not even belong to the Catholic Church, etc. This was a time of change – and many of us embraced the change wholeheartedly.

Seminary Life in the early 1960s

In my last blog post, I wrote about entering St. Charles College Catholic minor seminary in 1961 as a freshman in high school. Here are some more details about my life there and a few anecdotes.

In the Refectory (dining hall), there were rectangular tables that each seated 8 students and the priests sat along the far wall, facing the students, ostensibly to make sure we behaved ourselves during the meals. Students took turns waiting on tables. The sophomore college students waited on the priests and got to eat their leftovers, which (no surprise) turned out to be much tastier than what the students were served.

I thought the food was generally ok and have fond memories of some of it. I always looked forward to the hot dogs and beans that we had on Saturday nights (“de gustibus non disputandum est” – Latin for “to each his own”). My recollection is that we got cold cereal for breakfast every day and that some days we got hot cereal. The cold cereal came in individual serving size boxes and extra boxes were stuffed up in between the corner braces of the tables, to be eaten at dinner if someone didn’t like the offering that evening. The worst meal we ever had was described on the menu as “mock pizza”. It was a large round cornbread about an inch high with thin slices of bologna on top and ketchup on top of the bologna. (Yumm!) I also remember that we each had our own cloth napkins and napkin holders to keep them in between meals. Mine was round and silver and had my initials on it. Here’s a picture of it. (Yes, I still have it! My mother saved it and later gave it to me.)

All the students wore slacks, dress shirts, jackets and ties (except during recreation time). During my sophomore or junior year of high school, the rector (president of the college) decided that some of the students were dressing in a way that was too “worldly”. The rector would stop students in the hallway and tell them they could no longer wear a certain piece of clothing. It was never clear exactly what the criteria were. I had a gold colored sports jacket that my parents had gotten for me when I was in 8^th grade. I was always afraid I would be stopped and told it was too worldly. But it never happened. Here's a picture of me that was taken in 8th grade.

When I was a freshman in high school our daily chapel was in the basement of the building under the main chapel. On Sundays, we freshmen would attend mass in our little chapel, go to breakfast and then attend mass with all the students in the main chapel. Since we could only receive communion once in a day and had to fast from the midnight before, we must have received communion at the earlier mass. The masses during the week would not have any singing and there was no sermon. However, on Sunday the second mass in the main chapel would be a “high mass”. There would be singing (in Latin, since this was before the Second Vatican Council). Along with the celebrant, there would be other priests functioning as deacon and sub-deacon. St. Charles College has now been converted to senior citizen housing and the chapel has been preserved and functions as a parish church. In doing some research for these blogs, I came across a website that has a number of pictures of the chapel, now called Our Lady of the Angels Chapel. I had forgotten how beautiful and ornate the chapel was. Here’s a link to that website.

At St. Charles, our high school schedule was not like a typical high school. We had a full day of classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, we had a half day of classes. On those afternoons when we did not have classes, intramural sports games took place. And, once a month we would have a “walk day” on one of those afternoons. That meant we were allowed to leave the campus and go out into the community. Most times, that meant walking to Arbutus, the nearest town, where we might go bowling or shopping. My favorite recollection of these “walk days” is of getting chocolate marshmallow sundaes.

Along with “walk days”, we also had some “free days”, during which we could be out for the entire day. During my freshman year of high school, we had a “free day” on Thanksgiving Day. My parents drove from Somerville, New Jersey, to spend the day with me. I remember going to a restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner. It was a disappointing way to celebrate the holiday. When we celebrated at home, my parents would have friends over and the food was much better. It must have been very difficult for my parents to make that trip, because in 1961 traveling was not as easy and quick at it is now. In later years we were able to go home for the Thanksgiving holiday. I was studying for the diocese of Trenton and, at some point, the seminarians from that diocese started chartering a bus that would take us to Notre Dame High School, just outside of Trenton, and pick us up there at the end of the holiday period. That made it easier on our parents. However, I also remember that, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, the trip back was always very long because of all the people traveling at the end of the holiday weekend. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper on the NJ Turnpike.

Very close to our seminary,there was a high school seminary of the Paulist order and those seminarians came to St. Charles for classes. We didn’t have a very good opinion of the Paulists, because a number of those young men seemed a little strange. The strangest of them told us that he had come to earth from outer space. (Seriously.) He said he and his parents traveled to earth in a space ship and that his father died along the way and they pushed his body out of the ship and watched it burn up in the atmosphere. One day he came to class wearing what looked like a red flannel pajama top with a tie. When one of the teachers asked him about it, he admitted that that’s what it was and said he had not had time to do his laundry.

My understanding of the Paulist priests at the time was that they preached about the Catholic faith on city street corners. I’m not sure how I got that impression. But, I remember thinking that it was a bold thing to do and something I could never do. I’ve since gotten a better appreciation of the Paulists because of the writings of James Carroll, who was a Paulist priest for 5 years. The mission of the Paulists has always been to bring the teachings of the Catholic Church to American society and to integrate American values into the Church. They established Newman houses on campuses of colleges and universities that were not Catholic, at a time when the teaching of the Church emphasized Catholics not mixing with non-Catholics. Their efforts were criticized by the Vatican at the time and Popes condemned what they called modernism and “Americanism” (which the Paulists exemplified).  The founder of the Paulists, Isaac Hecker, according to James Carroll (in his book Practicing Catholic) narrowly escaped being condemned for heresy. But Fr. Hecker’s approach toward the faith gained greater acceptance during the Second Vatican Council.

I have recently been in email contact with Larry McAvoy, a friend who entered St. Charles as a freshman in high school the same year I did. He provided some additional information, which I am including here. During the earlier years, we were given access to the daily newspaper – but only the front page of the paper and the front page of the sports section. (As Larry put it “If the stories were continued inside, as they always were, tough luck.”)  We were permitted to call home once a month but needed to get permission to do so. Larry also said that we were told when we entered the seminary that 10% of our class would in the end be ordained priests. He said he believes that 12 of the 121 of us were ordained. Spot on!

Larry also reminded me about the reading of the Martyrology. Each day at the beginning of lunch, one of the college students would read about saints and martyrs who had their feast day on that particular date. Larry pointed out that the student readers all hoped they did not get assigned a certain date, on which the reading was a description of a martyr whom some of us called “Super Saint”. I don’t remember this saint’s name but the reading indicated that he was subjected to a number of tortures (e.g., being shot with arrows, dipped in boiling oil) and then ended with the words “having survived these tortures, he was beheaded”. We all knew we would be stifling laughter during the final description. No reader wanted to have to get through that reading with a straight face.

Considering that St. Charles was a Catholic seminary and those seminarians who continued on to ordination to the priesthood would take a vow of chastity (to remain celibate and not marry), it was ironic that the road the seminary was located on was called Maiden Choice Lane. During our time there, the Catholic Church would start to open itself up to “the world”. Most of us who entered as freshman in high school would not go on to ordination but would step out into “the world” and into different vocations than the one we envisioned as we began high school at St. Charles. Many years have passed since that time. In two years we will celebrate the 50^th anniversary of our graduation from St. Charles. I believe many of us look back fondly on the time we spent within those “hallowed walls”.