A Good Lesson for Advent

This post from the Acton Institute, along with the documentary trailer, really struck me:

Just over a year ago, I traveled with the Acton Institute to Rwanda in preparation for a new project on poverty. Although we were there primarily talking to entrepreneurs about wealth and poverty, it was impossible not to have questions about the 1994 genocide. In less than 100 days, nearly one million people were murdered and tens of thousands were responsible for these deaths. Flying into the country with that knowledge, a mere 14 years later, I didn’t know what to expect. I was anxious and unsettled, the same sort of tension that I felt while visiting Tim’s body at the funeral home. The weight of death stood in stark contrast to such a vibrant culture.

Genocide destroyed Rwanda — socially, economically, and politically. After some measure of stability was restored, the new leaders needed to find a way to further return order and rebuild the infrastructure that was lost. Punishing the murderers and enacting justice was immediately a problem. How do you uphold justice when the guilty are too many to count? The small, landlocked country didn’t have the prison space to lock up all of the killers. With an overwhelming backlog of court cases and little hope of full reparation, Rwanda’s leaders tried something revolutionary. Incarceration and execution were set aside in favor of reconciliation. Beginning in 2003, over 50,000 killers who acknowledged their part in the genocide were released and reintegrated back into society. The doors were opened for genocidaires to live side by side with the surviving members of families they had destroyed.

Advent should help us to face the ugliest elements of our lives, reminded of the shortness of our time to fill the valleys and make low the hills. The Gospel of Gaudette Sunday contains a stark note of caution regarding the One, "...Whose fan is in his hand, and he will purge his floor, and will gather the wheat into his barn; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire." Few things can focus the need for repentance like examining those in extreme situations:

Filmmaker Laura Waters Hinson jumps headlong into the tension between the justified victim and the repentant killer. Her hour-long documentary, As We Forgive, tells the personal stories of two women struggling to forgive the men who took their families from them. Hinson also shares the testimonies of the men, wracked with grief and remorse, as they do their best to find forgiveness and rebuild trust. With the help of Rwandan mediation groups, the victims and killers meet face to face in an
attempt to reconcile.

There is nothing forced about the forgiveness process Hinson exposes in As We Forgive. She simply uses the camera as a window through which the audience watches it unfold. The story follows Rosaria, who has already forgiven the man who killed her family. Her journey in the film is one of re-building trust. I liked Rosaria immediately and was amazed by the peace and gentleness that flowed from her, despite the incredible hardships. But not so with another woman, Chantal, who has no desire to meet the man who wronged her. The pain she suffered is tangible and forgiveness is nothing compared to the justice she feels she deserves. Hers is a story of deep grief and a desire to withhold forgiveness.

I will never forget the personal stories I heard from the survivors of the genocide during my visit. The stories of the killers, however, were not told nor did I ask to hear them. Hinson, on the other hand, has the insight to recognize the importance of the guilty men’s accounts. Both men describe the darkness that overcame them and how the weight of their actions has affected their lives. Their burden of guilt is heavy and, although terrified to meet and interact with Rosaria and Chantal, both men do whatever they can to redeem themselves.

Anyone else have trouble forgiving those in the family who squeeze the toothpaste from the top of the tube?

Check out the whole post - I think it's a timely subject. While you're doing that, I'll head out to check Home Depot and see if they rent bulldozers. I've got to ramp-up my leveling project.

Next mystagogue project - avoiding the "righteous anger" crutch. [Oh, how I love that one :( ]

UPDATE - I notice that the author of this post is a new contributor to the Acton Institute blog. She's got an interesting video of her own on Rwanda and poverty. Check this out:

Thoughts on Poverty. from Tabitha Blanski on Vimeo.

Welcome Punjab!

Hey, write one post that vaguely addresses the issue of Islamic terrorism, and, whammo, I get a hit from Punjab! No one is reading the blog because it's been dormant for 2.5 months, and then immediately, one post on Major Hasan, and Punjab finds it.

Well, it is customery in my politically correct culture to make certain I stress that my uncompromizing hatred of Islamic terrorism is not transposed the followers of Mohammed. Faithful Muslims have my deepest respect. Please return often.

Of course, not all those in Punjab are Muslim. A modest Catholic presence resides there. Regardless of your faith, I welcome you and am honored with your visit.

For my Christian visiters, I offer this:




For any new Muslim friends that drop by, I offer this:




Ad Majorum Dei Glorium!

An Old Standby

Okay, so Andy and I are lazy mystagogues. Just add a "z" to the title, and you begin to figure out why we couldn't get jobs as writers (and that's before you actually read this stuff we post).

Since I'm lazy, but still want this blog to be active, and still want all three of our followers to remember that we haven't fallen off the face of the earth (I saw Andy last night, and he's doing fine), I will let St. Alphonsus Liguori guest blog. After all, when you can't think of anything to blog about (probably because there is too much going on to narrow down a coherent thought - granted, a coherent thought would be new for this blog, but it is still a goal) go to a timeless classic.

Have you hugged your mother today?

M

y dear Queen and Mother, Mary, I will address thee in the words of St. Germanus : "Thou art omnipotent in saving sin­ners ; thy prayers are all-powerful with God, because thou art the mother of true life."—Serm. iii. in Dorm. B. V. Then, O my mistress, if I have recourse to thee, all my sins cannot make me despair of salvation. Thou obtainest by thy prayers whatever thou wishest. If thou prayest for me I shall certainly be saved. I will then say to thee with St. Bernard : Pray for me, who am so miserable, O great Mother of God, for thy Son hears thee, and grants whatsoever thou askest (Depr. ad glor. V.). I am indeed a sinner; but I wish to amend my life, and I glory in being specially devoted to thee. I am, it is true, unworthy of thy protection; but I know that thou hast never abandoned any one who has placed his trust in thee. Thou art able and willing to save me, and I trust in thee. When I was in the state of perdition, and forget­ful of thee, thou didst think of me, and didst obtain for me the grace to enter into myself. How much more ought I to trust in thy mercy now that I am dedicated to thy service, and that I recommend myself with confidence to thy prayers! O Mary ! pray for me, and obtain for me the grace to be a saint. Obtain for me holy perseverance ; obtain for me a great love of thy Son, and of thee, O my amiable mother! I love thee, O my Queen! and hope to love thee always. Do thou also love me, and obtain for me the grace that I may be transformed from a sinner into a saint. - Saint Alphonsus Liguori, Preporation for Death, Consideration XXXII

Thanks for guest blogging Doc. Come back soon!

Defining Moment?

You have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thy enemy.  But I say to you, Love your enemies: do good to them that hate you: and pray for them that persecute and calumniate you:  That you may be the children of your Father who is in heaven, who maketh his sun to rise upon the good, and bad, and raineth upon the just and the unjust.  For if you love them that love you, what reward shall you have? do not even the publicans this?  And if you salute your brethren only, what do you more? do not also the heathens this?  Be you therefore perfect, as also your heavenly Father is perfect.  (Mt 5:43-47)

Timing is such a mystery.  Today, at about the same time (give or take a few hours) thousands, if not millions, of people in our country were offering the sacrifice of our Lord for an end to abortion, a gunman was entering a Lutheran church to turn a notorious abortionist into a martyr.  What are you up to Lord?

I often ask that question.  I appreciate the fact that He tolerates such questions from finite creatures.

A few things come to mind.

1.       -- The murder of George Tiller will be manipulated to silence the pro-life movement.  He is now the trump card to silence all debate, today and for the next 20 years.  Here are the “facts” that the pro-death mentality will make the following assumption, which they do in many cases:  Criminals, like this gunman, aren’t really responsible for their own actions.  Sociological elements cause such behavior.  This gunman, therefore, is the product of the groups that promote the idea that abortion actually kills a human being.  So if you oppose abortion, you are encouraging acts like this.  DON’T BE SILENCED!  PUT THEM ON THE DEFENSIVE! It's important to understand that these people have a self-serving agenda, and explaining to them a thousand times over the next ten years that you don’t condone the murder of abortionists plays right into their hands.  Don’t play that game.  “So, are you accusing me of murder?”  Make them answer that question, yes or no.  Don’t let the conversation go any further until they give you a definitive answer.  If the answer is “no”, then they have no business linking your pro-life views with the actions of a terrorist.  If the answer is “yes”, then you need to call a spade a spade.  “Maybe in your Orwellian universe it is murder to support the lives of unborn children, but that stands to reason, since it was similar logic that allowed, and continues to allow, millions of unborn children to die year after year.”  Counterattack the logic in short-order.  Abortion proponents have been waiting for this moment to turn the tables on the pro-life movement.  They wont’ let it pass.  Don’t run.  Meet them head on.  And whatever you do, do not wear this man.  Make the abortion advocate wear their lame attempt to silence and brand you.

2.      -- The murder of unborn children happens silently, while abortionists get front page attention.  By my count, this is 6 abortionists and their staff to be murdered since 1993.  In that same time period, there have been about 20 million unborn children killed in their mother’s wombs by surgical abortion.  Every life is precious to God.  So we cannot simply write-off six lives as insignificant.  But neither can we ignore the disparity.  Being an abortionist is dangerous, but much less dangerous than being an unborn child.  Keep this reality in mind as the media targets the pro-life movement.

3.      -- Do you take our Lord seriously when he tells you to love your enemy?  Well, here He is presenting an excellent opportunity.  Tiller is a particularly egregious foe.  His participation in needless late-term abortions means that this man brutally killed many helpless children at a stage in life when they were unmistakably human.  This is about as cold-blooded as it gets.  Did he die in his rebellion or did he receive final mercy?  We don’t know.  His particular judgment is likely over.  But our God is not bound by time.  We can pray now that this man repented at the moment of his death and was spared eternal fire.  Both God and Satan want his soul.  I don’t think it does us much good to side with Satan on anything.  So please, offer prayer  that Tiller be granted eternal joy, as well as all his supporters in the pro-death camp.  Rosary, Mass or Divine Office intentions would be best, but offer something for this poor soul.  That’s about the only love we have left to offer George Tiller.  But at least it is something, and it may make a difference for him. 

It’s important to remember in times like these to avoid cynicism.  “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself.” (John 12:32) God seems to be littering our world with crosses.  A person of faith, as we all should be, should gaze out on those crosses and praise God for drawing the world closer to Himself.  That is his promise, and that should be our hope.

As always, act as a Christian should.  The murder of George Tiller could be a defining moment in the pro-life movement.  Will we go forth or retreat?  Stay faithful, and you put the definition on this moment.  Don't let the pro-abortionists and one lunatic terrorist do it for you.

We've just celebrated the mass of Pentecost.  Now is not the time to hide the truth, but proclaim it without fear.  "The Spirit of the Lord fills the whole world. It holds all things together and knows every word spoken by man, alleluia." (Wisdom 1:7, Introit for Pentecost)

Update: Jeff Miller has a roundup of some reactions from Catholic bloggers.  While you're praying for Tiller, remember also his grieving family.

No Greater Love Hath a Man

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

[In Flanders Fields, LtCol John McCrae(1872-1918), MD, Canadian Army]

We often mystagogue about the moral confusion of our day. But we degrade that phrase “moral confusion” when viewed through the eyes of an American warrior, from 1775 to the present day. The same can be said for anyone of any nation who has been cast in the duty of battle.

Victor Davis Hanson, a Classics professor, historian, and farmer, summed this up nicely back in 2003:

Battle also is not merely a logical continuance of politics, but an abnormal event in which thousands of warriors — most often in the past, young male adults — are freed to kill each other for a few hours, a dramatic and strange experience bound to change their lives and the fate of their families and friends for centuries thereafter.

The American warrior, be he a soldier, marine, seaman, or airman, accepts violence and even death so that the our nation and much of the world can live in peace. For those who have never been in battle, which includes me, imagine the moral dilemma. At a moment in your life when you are at grave risk of being killed, you must do your duty, which includes the killing of others. Is this war just? Is this engagement a necessity? Is my target a combatant? Am I killing enough? Am I sending my enemy to eternal rest or fire? Am I still in the state of grace after all this killing?

While warfare has been a permanent fixture in human history, and the warrior instinct remains intact even in our civil society, we all recognize that it is antithetical to the peaceful existence that we take for granted. The free nation that we live in today, flawed as it is, was built on the deaths of men who put their very souls on the line. The calling of battle reaches beyond heroism. Yes, their reasons for being in the battle may not be so noble as I suggest. But regardless, the service was rendered. Our respect and our eternal gratitude needs to be returned.

The piece of the aforementioned author, from his book The Ripples of Battle, begins with this:

On my rare visits to the local cemetery, I am always struck by the unremarkable grave of Victor Hanson. The inscription is as spare as the stone itself — name, state, rank, dates of birth and death, and nothing much more except the nondescript "29 Marines / 6 Marine Div / World War II." Unlike the other impressive tombstones of relatives in the family plot, there are no inscribed res gestae, not even a "loving father" much less a "beloved grandfather." A man who dies tragically, young, and alone does so without capital, either monetary or human. When he leaves behind no progeny, it is evident in the modesty of his commemoration.

But then his mother died in childbirth, his father was blinded in the vineyard by a sulfur-machine accident. He was killed at twenty-three, without wife or children, his body eventually shipped back and reinterred in Kingsburg, California. And because Victor was an only child, when he died on Okinawa, his father Victor Hanson's thin line perished as well. Had his memory vanished as well?

Certainly there are no Hansons left of Victor's direct ancestry to appreciate the significance of his modest epitaph, whose calculus — death recorded on May 19, 1945, serving in the 29th Regiment, 2nd Battalion, Company F of the 6th Marine Division — reflected his presence at the nexus of one of the worst days of the bloodiest campaign in the Pacific theater, the final assault and capture of Sugar Loaf Hill and its environs.

…

Yet without ostentatious stones, lasting works of fame, or any surviving immediate family, had the childless, young Victor Hanson really perished on that godforsaken hill with dozens of his friends on May 18? Surely not. Growing up, I heard his name nearly daily. My father was his first cousin, but the two were more like brothers, given their near-identical ages and lifelong companionship; for a time they lived side-by-side on adjoining farms, went to the same college, and joined the Marines. And so it was that the last half century our parents talked often about this mysterious dead man. "If only Vic had lived," the refrain went, followed by all sorts of counterfactuals concerning the subsequent sad fate of his father, his high school and college prospects, whom he might have married, children reared, partnerships entered with my father, grandparents consoled, college work that presaged future success, farms saved — rather than people saddened, sickened, and cast adrift, and homesteads soon to be sold or lost. I began as a child almost to resent this shadowy moral exemplar, who had died without making a mistake, thus leaving his namesake with the burden of emulating such character.

This is a moving story with a point we easily forget. The sacrifice of war echoes beyond the mere loss of an individual. I guess that stands to reason. If a man is to fight for a cause greater than himself, his sacrifice will also be shared well beyond himself. The bigger the man, the bigger the ripple his death will send.

In this fallen world of our, war has not ceased to be necessary. Some people simply can’t handle that fact. Peace has never been won in geopolitical terms by using the ostrich approach. But as necessary as it is, it is also dysfunctional. One cannot expect, even when fighting for an ultimate just cause, as we did in World War II, that each engagement is a justified step. As it turns out, our most costly battle of that great conflict remains strategically ambiguous sixty years after the fact:

Given the large number of American dead on Okinawa, I do not believe that the good and experienced men who planned the storming of Okinawa — Operation Iceberg — in the luxury suites of the San Francisco St. Francis Hotel were all that wise in the manner of their war making. Neither do I give all that much credence to the United States Army's official narrative of the campaign, which concluded with the confident excuse, "The military value of Okinawa exceeded all hope." I acknowledge that both traditional and revisionist historians have only scorn for those like me who question the need for or the logic of Iceberg — and I can offer no alternative to the strategy of taking the island that might have ensured fewer dead on either side. Surely I do not know how the Americans could have gone ahead with plans to invade Japan with the knowledge that they either could not or would not eliminate first a veteran army of 110,000 Japanese on Okinawa at their rear. And I also know that others more illustrious died on Okinawa — Ernie Pyle, Gen. Simon Bolivar Buckner himself, and several Medal of Honor winners. And I grant that the death of a twenty-three-year-old farm boy I never met from Kingsburg, California, pales besides two hundred thousand combined Japanese soldiers and Okinawan civilians incinerated, blown apart, and slowly starved to death that summer. Yes, I accept all that, but I also know of the wide ripples of one man's death, and as I look at his ring they have not ended — at least not quite yet.

As we observe the sacrifice of those who accepted the call to fight for our nation, let’s do so with our eyes open to the enormity of that sacrifice. We can’t put ourselves in their combat boots, but we certainly can do more than grill on the patio, read a book, or mow the lawn. We can make their heroism a deeper part of our lives. Remember them. Pray for them. Learn about them. Pass to the next generation the value of duty to country. Live a life worthy of their sacrifice. Fight the political battles for a more virtuous America.

Every Sunday, we are reminded of that perfect sacrifice of our Blessed Lord. Memorial Day should remind us that many have taken His commandment seriously.

Eternal rest grant unto them, o Lord

And let perpetual light shine upon them

May the souls of our fallen men and women in service to the United States of America and all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

Victor Davis Hanson’s four part series from National Review Online can be read here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. He unearths the mystery under the inconspicuous grave stone and reveals the enormous cost and impact of war.

Progs and Trads Together on TOB?

Here is a very thought-provoking read from Micheal Liccione on his view of the continuity between the old contractual and the new covenantal view on marriage, visited on the occasion of recent news-making statements of Theology of the Body advocates.

This topic is one of the central salients in spiritual combat, as priests who hear the confessions of males know all too well. Its also being the most widely discussed is not altogether unreasonable from any standpoint. If only because of the effects of original sin, the deadly sin of lust is common and even manifests itself in marriages. Like any other deadly sin, lust is incompatible with the love of God and neighbor, even if the neighbor happens to be one's spouse. It doesn't even take faith to know that the line between lust and healthy sexual desire is quite porous. So the notion that one should strive to be both good in bed and an orthodox Catholic seems ludicrous to unbelievers and disaffected Catholics as well as to many traditional believers.

That was just an enticement. The entire posting is loaded. I highly enourage comments on this one, as for me, this is one of the more confusing topics of the day.

Good Weekend Reading

If you've got time this weekend, here are a few links I recommend.

Jeffrey Tucker points to a PBS streaming video documentary on Eastern liturgical chant.  Mrs. Andy will really enjoy it.

Carl Olson points to a great reflection on the first four years of the pontificate of Benedict XVI from Fr. Kenneth Bakker, S.J.  Carl also points to a "frittering" paragraph from the Daily Astorian.  Maybe it's of more interest to me since I used to send high school sports reports to that small-town newspaper.

The Recovering Choir Director offers a commentary from Fr. Leo Chamberlain on the moto proprio Summorum Pontificum, adding more than a few of his own comments.  I real good read for those who idealize either form of the mass over the other.

Finally, for those of you out there rooting for the authenticity of the Shroud of Turin, Steve Ray found some good news for you in a London newspaper.

And finally, don't forget this is Divine Mercy Sunday weekend.  Want to get rid of all of your time in Purgatory?  It's easier now than at any other time of the year.  And it's not a plenary  indulgence.  Confused?  Just listen to this sermon at Audio Sancto to get priestly confirmation.  But here is your checklist:

• 1. Assist at the Mass
  
• 2. Repent of all sins
  
• 3. Go to Confession within a week
  
• 4. Place your complete trust in the Lord's mercy
  
• 5. Receive Holy Communion.
  
• 6. Venerate the image of Divine Mercy
  
• 7. Make a special effort to be merciful to others
  

Granted, that's not a slam-dunk list (particularly 4 and 7), but it's easier than the "usual conditions" for a plenary indulgence.  So don't miss this opportunity. 

Soul Train

“Where there is no knowledge of the soul, there is no good: and he that is hasty with his feet shall stumble.” Proverbs 19:2

As your proto-typical lay mystagogue, I often spend a good twenty-to-thirty seconds pondering the deep mysteries of the faith.  One that has gripped me the last several weeks is my soul.  My soul, which is supposed to magnify the infinite God.  My soul, all of which is supposed to love God.  My soul, which said, “The Lord is my portion.  Therefore I will wait for Him.”  So much that we do as Christian faithful is for the soul, this thing that makes us living, immortal, and in the image of God.  Yet, I don’t know my soul.  I know my big hammer-toe, the odd dimple in my forehead, and my compulsion to eat cold hotdogs with ketchup right before retiring to sleep.  My soul, I must confess, I know only what I’ve been told, and that, unfortunately, hasn’t been much.

Knowing what’s good for the soul yet not recognizing the soul itself is where I find myself.  If only this wonderful gift from God would show up in some way.  Maybe then I could work harder for it.  Then I could see the damage I do when I sin.  Maybe then I could see the good that I do when I fast.  As a sinful, self-centered guy, I crave confirmations.  I want to be holy, just so long as it doesn’t get in the way of my own pleasure.  But maybe if I could see my soul in the mirror, or feel my soul in the nerves, or in some other way sense the soul, I could sacrifice.  I could measure progress with my senses, then I could recognize the benefit for myself and thus have a strengthened will to do what is right.

Now I know what you’re thinking after reading this (all three of you who read the blog) – “You’d be a whole lot better off if you started thinking about something other than yourself.  Like, maybe, hmmm, I don’t know…  God?”  And you are absolutely right to think that.  That is my problem.  That’s the core of my problem.  And I’m really good for those 20-30 seconds thinking about other people; my family, my friends, suffering children, things like that.  But it always seems to come back to me eventually.  I have trouble concentrating, which is why my blog posts tend to ramble. 

Now, back to the soul.  As the proverb says, where there is no knowledge of the soul, there is no good.  To state the obvious, that’s not good.  So what’s my problem?  Why can’t I connect to this spiritual gift that is an integral component of me?  Tonight I was out watching the kids as the sun was setting, reading a few pages from Pope Benedict’s book, written under the pseudonym Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, The Feast of Faith.  He gives me a clue to this problem.  Actually, he strips me naked:

Psychologists tell us that our rational, everyday consciousness is only the surface of what makes up the totality of our soul. But we are so hounded by this surface awareness that what lies in the depths can no longer find expression. Ultimately man becomes sick for sheer lack of authenticity; he no longer lives as a subject: he exists as the plaything of chance and superficiality.  This is connected with our relationship to time. Our relationship to time is marked by forgetting. We live for the moment. We actually want to forget, for we do not want to face old age and death.  But in reality this desire for oblivion is a lie: suddenly it changes into the aggressive demand for the future, as a way of destroying time.  However, this romanticism of the future, this refusal to submit to time, is also a lie, a lie which destroys both man and the world.  The only way to master time, in fact, is the way of forgiveness and thankfulness whereby we receive time as a gift and, in a spirit of gratitude, transform it.

All three of you reading this blog – please pray for me that I might find my soul.  I’d like to find it before the day comes that my soul is all I have.  I think the more I know my soul, the more pleasant that day will be.

Happy Birthday Papa.  You are truly God’s gift to the Church in our age. 

Bless the Lord, all his works: in every place of his dominion, O my soul, bless thou the Lord.  Psalm 103:22

The Catholic Mass: The Love of Jesus for You

In the body of Christ today, especially in those who are separated from the Church (Protestants), I hear a lot of negativity surrounding the use of the word "religion". They like to emphasize "relationship" in contrast with "religion". They say things like, "Jesus did not come to give us religion; He came to give us a relationship."

But this is a fallacy. Jesus came to give us both a religion and a relationship.  Part of it stems from the fact that the Protestant faith isn't a religion at all - they are separated from the true religion. Protestant denominations seem to implement a set of rules because a set of rules is what they believe religion is supposed to be: thou shalt not drink wine, thou shalt not dance, thou shalt not do this, that or the other thing that their denomination 'says' is wrong.

In truth, many Catholics see our faith in much the same way: a bunch of rules and restrictions. Why does the Catholic Church force me to go to church on Sunday? Why do they force me to go to confession when I am in mortal sin before I receive the Eucharist? Why does the Catholic Church force me to confess my sins to a priest "rather than" just confessing them to God himself?  The "questions" are actually statements; the asker doesn't really want to know the answer to them. Rather they are a means for them to vent discontent toward a religion that they feel "bound" to practice.

I understand this sentiment. If we look at religion as a set of restrictions, then religion appears to "put a damper on our life". We play-act faith by going to mass, going through the ritual, but not letting anything really penetrate our lives.

But that is not what Jesus intended when he founded the Catholic Church. What Jesus intended for us was to experience the mystical reality of him through the physical world that we can experience - through the seven sacraments and the body of Christ, which is the Church, starting at the visible head on Earth (the Pope) and within all consecrated and lay people.

Each of the sacraments that Jesus gave to us are an expression of his love for us. We experience his love when we are renewed and justified at baptism, as we feel the water poured over us. We experience him physically in the Eucharist and the liturgy of the mass, when we ponder and remember the redeeming sacrifice he made for us, how he gave himself up for us and our sins - and we taste his very flesh. We experience continuing renewal through the sacrament of penance (or confession) as we experience the forgiving action and hear the words from the priest - they let us know in a very real way that our sins are forgiven. In confirmation we are sealed with the holy spirit with oil, a feel and a smell. Similar with the annointing of the sick, we hear the prayers, are annointed with oil and taste viaticum, food for the journey to heaven. Consecrated persons experience what must be a profound laying on of hands that imputes an indelible mark upon their soul, and their marriage to the Lord starts not when they reach heaven but on that very day of consecration/ordination.

In that same way, the liturgy is full of signs of Jesus' love for us, but yet so few of us know the spiritual realities that are happening in the mass because they take place in the invisible spiritual realm.  So the liturgy is designed to make those realities known to us.  One can really learn to understand God's love for us by becoming knowledgeable about the liturgy and what is behind the rubrics of the mass.  

That is what we hope to give to you in this blog - a respect for the dignity and beauty of the Catholic mass, a realization of just how important it is to have good liturgy, and a deep understanding of the fullness of truth in the Catholic faith.  

The mass is the perfect prayer, an eternal offering of thanks for the love that he has given us.  Let us rejoice to have been given such a gift, and return the love that Jesus has shown with our whole selves, and live the true faith!

"Jesus also suffered outside the gate, to consecrate the people by his own blood.  Let us then go to him outside the camp, bearing the reproach that he bore. For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the one that is to come. Through him [then] let us continually offer God a sacrifice of praise, that is, the fruit of lips that confess his name." - Hebrews 13:12-15