Carl E. Olson's Blog, page 268

"It's not often that a historical novel comes along that is ...

... at once period-appropriate, psychologically plausible -- and very, very difficult to put down. But Poor Banished Children, by newcomer Fiorella de Maria, fits the description. It tells the story of a mysterious castaway woman who washes up, half-dead, on the English coast in 1640. Her language is unfamiliar, but she is desperate to tell her story, which she finds a way to do in a confessional form that unfolds gradually over the course of the novel.

As a child in Malta, her family had cast her out, so she found refuge with a clergyman who educated her and trained her as a surgeon. Too literate, too headstrong, and much too independent for marriage to any man in her village, she begins the process of becoming a church anchoress -- living a life of service and prayer attached to a particular parish -- only to be kidnapped by pirates and sold into slavery before completing her final vows. Most of Poor Banished Children relates her trials and adventures, post-kidnapping.

Read the entire review, "Medieval Castaway", written by Theresa Civantos, on the Weekly Standard site.

Related Links:

• The Call and Craft of the Catholic Novelist: An Interview with Fiorella De Maria, author of Poor Banished Children: A Novel
• The Opening Chapters of Poor Banished Children: A Novel | Fiorella De Maria
• Website for Poor Banished Children | Ignatius Press

The Introduction to "A Bitter Trial: Evelyn Waugh and John Carmel Cardinal Heenan on the Liturgical Changes"

The Introduction to  A Bitter Trial: Evelyn Waugh and John Carmel Cardinal Heenan on the Liturgical Changes | by Dom Alcuid Reid

The first edition of this small book appeared in the pontificate of Pope John Paul II, in the wake of the 1996 "Oxford Declaration on Liturgy", which asserted that "the preconciliar liturgical movement as well as the manifest intentions of Sacrosanctum Concilium have in large part been frustrated by powerful contrary forces, which could be described as bureaucratic, philistine and secularist. The effect has been to deprive the Catholic people of much of their liturgical heritage." [1]

This was somewhat of a bold assertion. It was, however, based on a reality that, if not widely acknowledged at the time, was certainly known: not all went well with the postconciliar liturgical reform.

The discovery that occasioned this book—four previously unpublished letters from the English writer Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966) to John Cardinal Heenan (1905-1975), archbishop of Liverpool from 1957 until his promotion to Westminster in 1963, in the papers of the latter—was a small-enough find. Yet they, and the other letters and documents herein assembled around them (to which in this third edition another seven are added), paint a vivid picture of two men, faithful and obedient to the Church, whose better judgement—and for at least one of them, his very faith—was severely put to the test by the liturgical changes imposed in the wake of the Second Vatican Council, and even those that came before. [2]

Evelyn Waugh was no reactionary fool. His concern about rowdiness in church [3] shows that he readily recognised the all-too-common misinterpretation of the Second Vatican Council's call for participatio actuosa (actual participation): [4] an emphasis on external action without sufficient regard for that unobservable, essentially contemplative, participation of the mind and heart that must have priority.

Similarly, he was well aware that the Latin tongue, or any sacred language for that matter, is no barrier to actual participation in the liturgy. He rightly reacted against the wave of vernacularisation breaking over the liturgy to an extent nowhere called for by the Council. And he appreciated that to change ritual is to risk altering the faith, particularly that of simple folk.

At the time of the Council, clergy and laity were proud of their loyalty and obedience to ecclesiastical authority. Being faithful to Christ and to His Church meant, above all, doing what one was told by authority. Although they may at times have "had doubts about the orders", they "never had a doubt about obeying them". [5] Certainly this was true for Cardinal Heenan; as he wrote in 1969: "If the Holy Father has decided to reform the Iiturgy, we must accept." [6]

Indeed, there was an uncritical assumption abroad that the liturgical changes were not only authoritatively to be obeyed but were divinely inspired (the corollary being that to resist them was to oppose God's will). As Heenan wrote to one correspondent: "If the Pope and the bishops of the whole world have agreed on these changes the Holy Spirit must be guiding His Church"; [7] and to another: "When the voice of the whole Church speaks, we have to stifle our personal preferences and accept the fact that the Holy Ghost is guiding the Church." This letter concludes: "Reserve judgement for a few years and you will see why God has led the Church to a new liturgy." [8]

Heenan's correspondence reveals the tightrope walked by this pastor as he sought to be faithful to the measures Rome required him to implement, as well as to the sentiments and needs of his people—and indeed to his own. His papers indicate that he struggled to balance differing views on the liturgy for years. They contain an abundance of replies to people worried about the changes. An early example: 

Nobody could be more attached to the Latin Mass than myself. But when the Holy See gives directions we have to obey them. You must not think that the vernacular is a whim of the bishops or that the English hierarchy has been left much option in this matter. [9]

A later one:

You have my sympathy. I know exactly how you feel. It is a pity that the Mass had to be altered but it seems that all the liturgists are agreed that the ceremonies must be simplified and made more like the primitive Mass. [10]

Later still Cardinal Heenan obtained a singular concession from Pope Paul VI for the continued celebration of an older form of the Mass for those who wanted it. Whilst he was an obedient agent of change, Heenan could not abandon those who, like himself, felt the burden of those changes deeply.

The permissions received to use previously published and archival material are gratefully acknowledged, including those granted by the Archive of the Archbishop of Westminster, the Department of Manuscripts of the British Library, Miss Claudia Fitzherbert, the Peters Fraser & Dunlop Group Ltd., Mr. and Mrs. Auberon Waugh, and Weidenfeld & Nicholson. Also gratefully acknowledged is the assistance of Daniel Coughlan and Dom Alban Nunn, O.S.B., in the compilation of this third edition; the archival research used here, though, is entirely my own. I am profoundly grateful to Joseph Pearce for his kind foreword, and to the Countess of Oxford for her gracious afterword.

As the "revival of the liturgical movement and the initiation of a new cycle of reflection and reform" [11] continues—now with added impetus in the light of the pontificate of Pope Benedict XVI—the "bitter trial" that tested the faith of Evelyn Waugh and so many of his generation, as well as the almost-impossible situation in which Cardinal Heenan and many other clergy found themselves, must not be forgotten. Whilst Waugh was, sadly, all too correct when he wrote in his last letter on the subject, "I shall not live to see it [the beauty of the liturgy] restored", we owe it to the sacrifices made by his generation, as we owe it to our own and indeed to those to come, to see to it that their sufferings, and their insights presented herein, were not in vain.

Alcuin Reid
15th August 2011

ENDNOTES:

[1] Quoted in Stratford Caldecott, ed., Beyond the Prosaic: Renewing the Liturgical Movement (T&T Clark, 1998), p. 163.

[2] In a letter dated 9 December 1963, Heenan wrote: "If I were given a personal preference, I would not want any change in the ceremonies as I much preferred the old Holy Week ceremonies to those we have at present" (Archive of the Archbishop of Westminster [AAW], HE). The liturgical reforms enacted between 1948 and 1962—of which the 1955 Holy Week reform, which Waugh found so repugnant, is the best known—require further study and evaluation today.

[3] See, for example, Waugh's letter to Lady Daphne Acton, 15 March 1963, p. 44.

[4] Second Vatican Council, Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 14. The phrase is translated here as "actual participation", less misleadingly than the usual English rendering of "active participation". Cf. further:Joseph Ratzinger, The Feast of Faith: Approaches to a Theology of the Liturgy (Ignatius Press, 1986), pp. 68ff.

[5] Archbishop T. F Little, homily at the funeral Mass for Father Francis Aloysius Doolan, Saint Mary's Church, East Malvern, Victoria, Australia, 16 April 1986.

[6] Letter dated 8 March 1969, AAW, HE.

[7] Letter dated 1 December 1965, AAW, HE.

[8] Letter dated 18 December 1963, AAW, HE.

[9] Letter dated 17 December 1964, AAW, HE.

[10] Letter dated 29 April 1967, AAW, HE.

[11] "The Oxford Declaration on Liturgy", quoted in Caldecott, Beyond the Prosaic, p. 164.

[image error]
A Bitter Trial: Evelyn Waugh and John Carmel Cardinal Heenan on the Liturgical Changes

Expanded Editon, Edited by Dom Alcuin Reid
Foreword by Joseph Pearce | Afterword by Clare Asquith, Countess of Oxford

• Also available in Electronic Book Format

English author Evelyn Waugh, most famous for his novel Brideshead Revisited, became a Roman Catholic in 1930.  For the last decade of his life, however, Waugh experienced the changes being made to the Church's liturgy to be nothing short of "a bitter trial". In John Cardinal Heenan, Waugh found a sympathetic pastor and somewhat of a kindred spirit.

This volume brings together the personal correspondence between Waugh and Heenan during the 1960s, a trying period for many faithful Catholics. It begins with a 1962 article Waugh wrote for the Spectator followed by a response from then Archbishop Heenan, who at the time was a participant at the Second Vatican Council. These and the other writings included in this book paint a vivid picture of two prominent and loyal English Catholics who lamented the loss of Latin and the rupture of tradition that resulted from Vatican II.

In the light of the pontificate of Pope Benedict XVI, many Catholics are looking again at the post-conciliar liturgical changes. To this "reform of the reform" of the liturgy now underway in the Roman Catholic Church, both Heenan and Waugh have much to contribute.

Alcuin Reid is a cleric of the Diocese of Fréjus-Toulon, France, and a liturgical scholar and author. His principal work, The Organic Development of the Liturgy carries a preface by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVI.

Joseph Pearce is a popular literary biographer whose works include The Unmasking of Oscar Wilde, Tolkien: Man and Myth, and The Quest for Shakespeare.

Clare Asquith, Countess of Oxford is the author of Shadowplay: The Hidden Beliefs and Coded Politics of William Shakespeare.

Peter Kreeft on spiritual battle and the culture war

The Integrated Catholic Life site has posted audio of an October 29th talk  given by Dr. Peter Kreeft, based on his essay, "How to Win the Culture War", at a Major Speakers Series event at St. Peter Chanel Catholic Church in Roswell, Georgia. The page also has the text of the essay.

Related on Ignaitus Insight:

• All Ignatius Press books by Peter Kreeft
• Excerpts from books by Peter Kreeft

Two novels by women world famous for their literary works published by Ignatius Press

SAN FRANCISCO, November 3, 2011 – Ignatius Press has released two novels, Ida Elisabeth and The Song at the Scaffold, both written by spiritual, intuitive women who possessed formidable intellects and achieved world-wide critical acclaim for their literary works. Sigrid Undset, author of Ida Elisabeth, won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1928, and Gertrud von le Fort, author of The Song at the Scaffold, was nominated for the prize by the great German novelist Hermann Hesse.
 
Gertrud von le Fort and Sigrid Undset entered the Catholic Church within two years of each other. Though from different backgrounds, both women were deeply disturbed by the impact of modern ideologies on western society – especially on its view of womanhood and, in particular, motherhood.
 
[image error]Ida Elisabeth: A Novel
 This novel tells the story of a woman named Ida Elisabeth, who in an effort to redeem her reputation, marries her teenage sweetheart, Frithjof. Early in their marriage, she realizes that her charming husband is incapable of supporting the family and sews dresses to make ends meet. When her husband becomes involved with another woman, Ida Elisabeth leaves him and moves with her children to a small town.
 
Still young, the admirably hardworking Ida Elisabeth attracts the attention of a successful lawyer, who possesses the manly virtues that her husband lacked. As she contemplates marrying again, Frithjof, now gravely sick, reenters her life.
 
Even in her historical novels, the Nobel Prize-winning Undset tackled contemporary themes. With its setting in modern times, Ida Elisabeth examines the difficulties inherent in male-female relationships as they are experienced in contemporary society. Ida Elisabeth poignantly illustrates how poor choices affect the course of a person's life and how the suffering endured because of grievous mistakes can become the means by which a love is purified.  Her profound understanding of the human heart is powerfully displayed in this compelling drama about fidelity and forgiveness.
 
The Song at the Scaffold: A Novel
 Set during the French Revolution, this classic novella is based on the true story of the Carmelite nuns of Compiègne, who offered their lives for the preservation of the Church in France.
 
The story unfolds around the fictional character of Blanche de la Force, an excessively fearful aristocrat who enters the Carmelite convent in order to flee the dangers of the world. As the Reign of Terror begins, Blanche is no safer in the convent than in the streets of Paris, and some of the sisters begin to doubt her ability to endure persecution and possibly martyrdom.
 
The fates of Blanche and the other Carmelites take several unexpected turns, leaving the reader with an inspiring witness not only of martyrdom but of God's power being glorified in human weakness.
 
Both novels still relevant today
These two great novels by von le Fort and Undset are as pertinent now as when they were first written; in fact, they might be more relevant today because modern western societies are much further along in their denial of the differences between men and women and the meaning of those differences with respect to not only human relationships but also man's relationship to God.
 
Ignatius Press publishes other works by these women: Undset's biography Catherine of Siena and von le Fort's philosophical reflections on the feminine, The Eternal Woman.
 
About the Editor
Vivian Dudro is an Editor for Ignatius Press. Over the last 30 years she has written news articles, book reviews and columns for various Catholic media, including the National Catholic Register and the Catholic San Francisco. She has been interviewed on radio and television programs, both Catholic and secular, on a variety of literary and religious topics. Vivian and her husband live in San Francisco and are the parents of four children, ages 15 to 23.
 
To request a review copy or an interview with Editor Vivian Dudro, please contact: Rose Trabbic, Publicist, Ignatius Press, (239) 867-4180 or rose@ignatius.com

It's from Ben, not the Bible

It's not scandalous, but neither is it Scriptural (via Yahoo!):

President Barack Obama Wednesday said even God wanted to put Americans back to work, invoking divine blessing for his joust with Republicans over measures designed to slice into high unemployment.

Obama also taunted his foes with historic arguments in favor of repairing vital infrastructure once made by conservative icon Ronald Reagan, as he stumped for a $60 billion infrastructure bill being taken up by the Senate.

The president rebuked the House of Representatives for passing a bill reaffirming the US motto "In God We Trust" rather than getting to work on his stalled $447 billion jobs program.

"That's not putting people back to work. I trust in God, but God wants to see us help ourselves by putting people back to work," the president said.

Obama's spokesman Jay Carney denied that Obama had perhaps gone too far by dragging the Almighty into a fierce political spat.

"I believe that the phrase from the Bible is 'the Lord helps those who help themselves,'" Carney said.

Actually, that saying is from the 1736 edition of Benjamin Franklin's Poor Richard's Almanack: "God helps them that help themselves." It's compatibility with Scripture and good theology is debatable, and depends in large part on what, exactly, they are helping themselves to.

Here's another interesting one from Franklin: "He that sells upon trust, loses many friends, and always wants money." Maybe that can be employed at the next White House press conference.

Live web chat with Teresa Tomeo, Monday, November 7th

Tune-in LIVE | Monday, Nov. 7 at 8:00 pm EST

Join Teresa Tomeo, popular Catholic author and radio host, for a special online WEB chat. She will talking about her new book, Extreme Makeover: Women Transformed by Christ, Not Conformed to the Culture (also available in electronic book format), and taking questions, live!

Here is further information and details.

Occupy Olsons: A Report from the Front Lines

The "Occupy Olsons" protests have not been getting much attention in the media or from the White House. That's fine. In fact, I prefer it that way, because I'm not so certain the echo chamber media, Ivory Tower dwellers, the group thinkers of "The View", and various other cultural elitists (we call them "philistines" around here, but you know what I mean) would approve of how we handle the "Ocupy Olsons" protests, which are also known as "parenting" and "episodes of familial insanity and joyfulness".

I bring it up because I just read about how the City of Eugene and the University of Oregon are trying to figure out what to do with the unwashed, drum-beating, monosylabbic-muttering waifs and meanderers of "Occupy Eugene". The local newspaper reports:

Earlier Monday, a number of protesters dressed in Halloween costumes and makeup to resemble zombies, and then staged "die-ins" in front of corporate banks in the downtown and university areas.

Advocates of a move to ­Washington-Jefferson Park said the space would provide the room necessary to create an "eco-village" with sufficient infrastructure to allow for an extended wintertime encampment, and asserted that the location has the support of Eugene police and city officials.

A smaller number, however, said they were concerned that emphasis on an eco-village could detract from the primary task of staging a sustained and active protest.

The university originally wanted the protesters off its strip of land between Franklin Boulevard and the Millrace by Monday morning.

But UO officials gave the group all day Monday to decide on another place to go.

UO spokesman Phil Weiler said UO officials would like Occupy Eugene to move today.

"Our hope is that it would be sooner rather than later," he said.

Ah, yes: "hope". For Christians, it's a theological virtue; for politicians, it's a campaign slogan; for UO spokesman (shouldn't that be "spokesperson"?), it's a plaintive cry for help in a world filling quickly with winter greyness, body odor, and ... bowling pins?

By the way, I think the newspaper is mistaken: the protesters weren't dressed up like zombies. Nay, the zombies are dressed up like protesters. Which reminds me of a joke I just made up: What's the difference between a zombie and a protester? The zombies want to be among the living, while protesters don't try to make a living. They just talk about it. Hey, they seem to have a lot in common with most politicians; the two should get together and move somewhere. Out of state, preferably.

Anyhow, speaking of "hope", it's a word that sometimes comes up with the three young "Occupy Olsons" protesters (ages 3, 6, and 10). As in, "I hope, young man, that you picked up your toys like I told you", or, "I hope, for your sake, young lady, that you didn't forget to clean off the table", or "I hope I can make it to noon without being tempted to crack open another bottle of wine."

I've noticed that some of the "Occupy Eugene" protesters have promised to be protesting "forever". Fortunately for us, the "Occupy Olsons" protesters seem intent on occupying the premises for less than twenty years. In fact, this last week our six-year-old son interrupted his usual mantra ("I can't find any socks! I need some food right now! I want to watch TV!") to shout: "I don't want to live here anymore! I'm going to move out!" When no one responded or made any attempt to stop him, he hesitated for a few moments. Then he stomped off in search of some socks.

Our approach to the "Occupy Olsons" protesters has been, I hope (there's that word again!), uniform and consistent: we welcome them with love into our home and family, explain their various duties and responsibilities as they grow up, lay down the law when they get out of line, and require that they shower or bathe at least once a week. The latter is a big reason why there is no overlap between the "Occupy Olsons" and "Occupy Eugene" movements; we really do dislike body odor, filthy clothing, and the smell of pot. There's also the small matter of demanding that "Occupy Olsons" protesters do household chores, attend classes (there's no excuse: we home school and it's free), say prayers, show respect for parents and other adults, enunciate words, employ logic and good grammar, learn some Latin, memorize prayers and Scripture, and mock commercials for "Barney", "SpongeFace BobHead", and MSNBC.

Obviously, there's no way you could get an "Occupy Eugene" participant to mock those TV shows as they are the nutritional heart of their thin intellectual sandwich. No wonder so many of them put together a sentence like a chicken plays a piano: poorly, painfully, and with much squawking.

Granted, the "Occupy Olsons" protesters can be a tough bunch. Insurrection, coups, mutiny, and unflushed toilets are a constant problem. Backtalk, griping, and a preference for watching "Looney Tunes" over reading Hamlet are occasional issues. But they know the alphabet, can sing Gregorian chant and Old Church Slavonic hymns, have a growing grasp of mathematics, say the "Pledge of Allegiance", love Mary and the saints (especially Sts. Francis, Terese, George, and Dominic), and recognize that the writings of Noam Chomsky and Richard McBrien should be avoided or used as fire starter. They also know that living in tents pitched on a university campus is both silly and wimpy; a tent deserves to be set up in the forest, near wonderful wild animals, not crazy socialist professors. They also know that cardboard signs are fine for letting people know about yard sales, but shouldn't be the means by which you record your entire philosophy of life (with room left over for something about "99%" this or that).

In short, "Occupy Olsons" is an ongoing, joyful, challenging, and occasionally manic celebration of life, liberty, and the pursuit of holiness, a rich tradition rooted in the reality of the domestic church and a love for Christ and his Church. Our sustained and active protest, in fact, is against sin and selfishness and the enemies of the family, who are many, of course, but who are also on the way to ruin and defeat, even if it won't be until the Eschaton. In the meantime, our eco-village of five (not counting dog, cats, chickens, fish, and occasional mice) carries on, careful to stay out of the way of that poor, frazzled UO spokesman and mindful that Saturday night is bath night, no exceptions.

Cardinal George on how "the state becomes a church"

From Francis Cardinal George's excellent October 23rd column in Catholic New World newspaper:

 Conscience rights" and their defense in civil law are currently the cause of many protests against proposed government rules on "reproductive services" and health insurance that would drive Catholic hospitals out of health care and Catholic universities out of education. Already the outreach of Catholic Charities in this and other states has been curtailed by a change in the marriage laws. In all these instances, those protesting government intrusions on conscience appeal to long-established American civil law: The state has no right to coerce conscience, whether personal or institutional, nor to define what a religious ministry should look like. What is at stake in this public conversation? What is at stake, first of all, is religious freedom. We used to believe that freedom of religion was constitutionally protected and that the civil law would prevent anti- Catholic or anti-religious groups from attacking the church's institutions. Now some of these groups are using civil law to destroy these very institutions. For some homosexual activists, for pro-abortion zealots and for others who resent the church's teachings, it's payback time for the church's recognizing their actions as objectively sinful. For others, including some Catholic groups, it's a case of recognizing a shift in the popular culture and deciding to change their personal beliefs to conform to what is socially acceptable.

What is also at stake is personal freedom to act publicly on the basis of one's religious faith. Freedom of speech and self-expression is still well protected, but individuals who want to act on their specifically religious convictions are now without the legal protections in place even a few years ago. What history teaches clearly, however, is that when the dominant culture and its laws eliminate religious freedom, the state becomes sacred. No appeal to God or to a morality based on religious faith is allowed to break into the closed circle of civil legalism. The state's coercive power is not limited to keeping external order; it invades the internal realm of one's relation to God. The state becomes a church.

For those in the church, of course, personal conscience is governed by what the church teaches has been revealed by God and its consequences in moral activity and political life. That's why the institutional distinction between church and state is built into Catholic beliefs. The distinction in modern times has been violated not by the church but by the state in totalitarian societies and now, for the first time, here. The church everywhere teaches in Christ's name and mediates his will for Catholic believers. Unlike the state, which has no divine origin, the church is mother and teacher. Her voice is internal.

Read the entire column (ht: Thomas Peters on Twitter).

Purgatory and Praying for All the Faithful Departed

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for November 2, 2011 | The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed | Carl E. Olson

"I've always had a hard time explaining purgatory," the man said. "Didn't the Second Vatican Council say that Catholics no longer have to believe in purgatory?"

That remark was made to me years ago, not long after I had entered the Catholic Church. Although I was saddened to hear it, it didn't surprise me. In the course of studying various Catholic doctrines, I had learned that certain beliefs, including purgatory, were often avoided or even ignored by some Catholics. And this, unfortunately, meant that many Catholics don't appreciate the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed, which is all about praying for those who are in purgatory.

"I think purgatory is rather simple to understand," I responded. "The problem is that we often have to do away with our flawed notions of purgatory."

Growing up in a Fundamentalist home, I had been told purgatory was the belief that everyone gets a "second chance" after death. Purgatory, I had also been taught, was just another Catholic invention without any basis in Scripture. 

What I learned years later was quite different. I saw that the early Christians prayed for the dead, and that this practice was based, in part, on the actions of those Jews who had prayed for the dead (cf., 2 Macc. 12:41-46). As today's reading from the Book of Wisdom indicates, the idea of spiritual cleansing was a common one in the Old Testament: "For if before men, indeed, they be punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself. As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself."

It followed logically that if there was life after death for the just, those who were just would be cleansed fully and completely, if necessary, before entering the presence of God. This, of course, also flowed from the deepened understanding of death and resurrection given through the life, death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. The Savior had promised, in today's Gospel, "that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him may have eternal life, and I shall raise him on the last day."

But the early Christians recognized that not every disciple of Jesus is perfectly cleansed in this life from venial sins. St. Augustine explained that the Church's prayers, the Mass, and the giving of alms provided spiritual aid to the dead. "The whole Church," he wrote, "observes this practice which was handed down by the Fathers: that it prays for those who have died in the communion of the Body and Blood of Christ, when they are commemorated in their own place in the sacrifice itself; and the sacrifice is offered also in memory of them, on their behalf."

It is ironic that the culture of death, which is present in so many ways, is so afraid to face death squarely and honestly. It tries to cheat and avoid death, both mocking it and cowering before it in movies, books, video games, and music. We fear death because it is so mysterious and hidden. We fear it because it seems so unjust that the vibrancy of life can end so suddenly and completely. If this world is all that exists, then death is to be feared. But it also will not be denied.

St. Paul, on the other hand, embraced death—that is, the death of Jesus Christ. "We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death," he wrote to the Christians in Rome, "so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life." 

All Souls not only provides us an opportunity to pray for those who have gone before us, but also reminds us of our mortal end. We cannot deny it. But by God's grace we can and should prepare for it, trusting that the Lord our Shepherd will guide us through the valley of darkness.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the November 2, 2008, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

Related IgnatiusInsight.com Articles and Book Excerpts:

• Purgatory: Service Shop for Heaven | Reverend Anthony Zimmerman
• Do All Catholics Go Straight to Heaven? | Mary Beth Bonacci
• Hell and the Bible | Piers Paul Read
• The Question of Hope | Peter Kreeft
• The Brighter Side of Hell | Fr. James V. Schall, S.J.
• Socrates Meets Sartre: In Hell? | Peter Kreeft
• Are God's Ways Fair? | Ralph Martin
• Be Nice To Me. I'm Dying | Mary Beth Bonacci
• From Defeat to Victory: On the Question of Evil | Alice von Hildebrand

To Trace All Souls Day

To Trace All Souls Day | Fr. Brian Van Hove, S.J. | Ignatius Insight

As Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger once said so well, one major difference between Protestants and Catholics is that Catholics pray for the dead:

"My view is that if Purgatory did not exist, we should have to invent it." Why?

"Because few things are as immediate, as human and as widespread—at all times and in all cultures—as prayer for one"s own departed dear ones." Calvin, the Reformer of Geneva, had a woman whipped because she was discovered praying at the grave of herson and hence was guilty, according to Calvin, of superstition". "In theory, the Reformation refuses to accept Purgatory, and consequently it also rejects prayer for the departed. In fact German Lutherans at least have returned to it in practice and have found considerable theological justification for it. Praying for one's departed loved ones is a far too immediate urge to be suppressed; it is a most beautiful manifestation of solidarity, love and assistance, reaching beyond the barrier of death. The happiness or unhappiness of a person dear to me, who has now crossed to the other shore, depends in part on whether I remember or forget him; he does not stop needing my love." [1]

Catholics are not the only ones who pray for the dead. The custom is also a Jewish one, and Catholics traditionally drew upon the following text from the Jewish Scriptures, in addition to some New Testament passages, to justify their belief:

Then Judas assembled his army and went to the city of Adulam. As the seventh day was coming on, they purified themselves according to the custom, and they kept the sabbath there. On the next day, as by that time it had become necessary, Judas and his men went to take up the bodies of the fallen and to bring them back to lie with their kinsmen in the sepulchres of their fathers. Then under the tunic of every one of the dead they found sacred tokens of the idols of Jamnia, which the law forbids the Jews to wear. And it became clear to all that this was why these men had fallen. So they all blessed the ways of the Lord, the righteous Judge, who reveals the things that are hidden; and they turned to prayer, beseeching that the sin which had been committed might be wholly blotted out. And the noble Judas exhorted the people to keep themselves free from sin, for they had seen with their own eyes what had happened because of the sin of those who had fallen. He also took up a collection, man by man, to the amount of two thousand drachmas of silver, and sent it to Jerusalem to provide for a sin offering. In doing this he acted very well and honourably, taking account of the resurrection. For if he were not expecting that those who had fallen would rise again, it would have been superfluous and foolish to pray for the dead. But if he was looking to the splendid reward that is laid up for those who fall asleep in godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Therefore he made atonement for the dead, that they might be delivered from their sin. [2]

Besides the Jews, many ancient peoples also prayed for the deceased. Some societies, such as that of ancient Egypt, were actually "funereal" and built around the practice. [3] The urge to do so is deep in the human spirit which rebels against the concept of annihilation after death. Although there is some evidence for a Christian liturgical feast akin to our All Souls Day as early as the fourth century, the Church was slow to introduce such a festival because of the persistence, in Europe, of more ancient pagan rituals for the dead. In fact, the Protestant reaction to praying for the dead may be based more on these survivals and a deformed piety from pre-Christian times than on the true Catholic doctrine as expressed by either the Western or the Eastern Church. The doctrine of purgatory, rightly understood as praying for the dead, should never give offense to anyone who professes faith in Christ.

When we discuss the Feast of All Souls, we look at a liturgical commemoration which pre-dated doctrinal formulation itself, since the Church often clarifies only that which is being undermined or threatened. The first clear documentation for this celebration comes from Isidore of Seville (d. 636; the last of the great Western Church Fathers) whose monastic rule includes a liturgy for all the dead on the day after Pentecost. [4] St. Odilo (962-1049 AD) was the abbot of Cluny in France who set the date for the liturgical commemoration of the departed faithful on November 2.







Before that, other dates had been seen around the Christian world, and the Armenians still use Easter Monday for this purpose. He issued a decree that all the monasteries of the congregation of Cluny were annually to keep this feast. On November 1 the bell was to be tolled and afterward the Office of the Dead was to be recited in common, and on the next day all the priests would celebrate Mass for the repose of the souls in purgatory. The observance of the Benedictines of Cluny was soon adopted by other Benedictines and by the Carthusians who were reformed Benedictines. Pope Sylvester in 1003 AD approved and recommended the practice. Eventually the parish clergy introduced this liturgical observance, and from the eleventh to the fourteenth century it spread in France, Germany, England, and Spain.

Finally, in the fourteenth century, Rome placed the day of the commemoration of all the faithful departed in the official books of the Western or Latin Church. November 2 was chosen in order that the memory of all the holy spirits, both of the saints in heaven and of the souls in purgatory, should be celebrated in two successive days. In this way the Catholic belief in the Communion of Saints would be expressed. Since for centuries the Feast of All the Saints had already been celebrated on November first, the memory of the departed souls in purgatory was placed on the following day. All Saints Day goes back to the fourth century, but was finally fixed on November 1 by Pope Gregory IV in 835 AD. The two feasts bind the saints-to-be with the almost-saints and the already-saints before the resurrection from the dead.

Incidentally, the practice of priests celebrating three Masses on this day is of somewhat recent origin, and dates back only to ca. 1500 AD with the Dominicans of Valencia. Pope Benedict XIV extended it to the whole of Spain, Portugal, and Latin America in 1748 AD. Pope Benedict XV in 1915 AD granted the "three Masses privilege" to the universal Church. [5]

On All Souls Day, can we pray for those in limbo? The notion of limbo is not ancient in the Church, and was a theological extrapolation to provide explanation for cases not included in the heaven-purgatory-hell triad. Cardinal Ratzinger was in favor of its being set aside, and it does not appear as a thesis to be taught in the new Universal Catechism of the Catholic Church. [6]

The doctrine of Purgatory, upon which the liturgy of All Souls rests, is formulated in canons promulgated by the Councils of Florence (1439 AD) and Trent (1545-1563 AD). The truth of the doctrine existed before its clarification, of course, and only historical necessities motivated both Florence and Trent to pronounce when they did. Acceptance of this doctrine still remains a required belief of Catholic faith.

What about "indulgences"? Indulgences from the treasury of grace in the Church are applied to the departed on All Souls Day, as well as on other days, according to the norms of ecclesiastical law. The faithful make use of their intercessory role in prayer to ask the Lord"s mercy upon those who have died. Essentially, the practice urges the faithful to take responsibility. This is the opinion of Michael Morrissey:

Against the common juridical and commercial view, the teaching essentially attempts to induce the faithful to show responsibility toward the dead and the communion of saints. Since the Church has taught that death is not the end of life, then neither is it the end of our relationship with loved ones who have died, who along with the saints make up the Body of Christ in the "Church Triumphant."

The diminishing theological interest in indulgences today is due to an increased emphasis on the sacraments, the prayer life of Catholics, and an active engagement in the world as constitutive of the spiritual life. More soberly, perhaps, it is due to an individualistic attitude endemic in modern culture that makes it harder to feel responsibility for, let alone solidarity with, dead relatives and friends. [7]

As with everything Christian, then, All Souls Day has to do with the mystery of charity, that divine love overcomes everything, even death. Bonds of love uniting us creatures, living and dead, and the Lord who is resurrected, are celebrated both on All Saints Day and on All Souls Day each year.

All who have been baptized into Christ and have chosen him will continue to live in Him. The grave does not impede progress toward a closer union with Him. It is only this degree of closeness to Him which we consider when we celebrate All Saints one day, and All Souls the next. Purgatory is a great blessing because it shows those who love God how they failed in love, and heals their ensuing shame. Most of us have neither fulfilled the commandments nor failed to fulfill them. Our very mediocrity shames us. Purgatory fills in the void. We learn finally what to fulfill all of them means. Most of us neither hate nor fail completely in love. Purgatory teaches us what radical love means, when God remakes our failure to love in this world into the perfection of love in the next.

As the sacraments on earth provide us with a process of transformation into Christ, so Purgatory continues that process until the likeness to Him is completed. It is all grace. Actively praying for the dead is that "holy mitzvah" or act of charity on our part which hastens that process. The Church encourages it and does it with special consciousness and in unison on All Souls Day, even though it is always and everywhere salutary to pray for the dead.

ENDNOTES:

[1] See Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, The Ratzinger Report: An Exclusive Interview on the State of the Church, with Vittorio Messori (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1985) 146-147. Michael P. Morrissey says on the point: "The Protestant Reformers rejected the doctrine of purgatory, based on the teaching that salvation is by faith through grace alone, unaffected by intercessory prayers for the dead." See his "Afterlife" in The Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Michael Glazier/Liturgical Press, 1993) 28.

[2] Maccabees 12:38-46. From The Holy Bible, Revised Standard Version, Containing the Old and New Testaments. Catholic Edition. (London: The Catholic Truth Society, 1966) 988-989. Neil J. McEleney, CSP, adds: "These verses contain clear reference to belief in the resurrection of the just...a belief which the author attributes to Judas ...although Judas may have wanted simply to ward off punishment from the living, lest they be found guilty by association with the fallen sinners.... The author believes that those who died piously will rise again...and who can die more piously than in a battle for God"s law? ...Thus, he says, Judas prayed that these men might be delivered from their sin, for which God was angry with them a little while.... The author, then, does not share the view expressed in 1 Enoch 22:12-13 that sinned- against sinners are kept in a division of Sheol from which they do not rise, although they are free of the suffering inflicted on other sinners. Instead, he sees Judas"s action as evidence that those who die piously can be delivered from unexpiated sins that impede their attainment of a joyful resurrection. This doctrine, thus vaguely formulated, contains the essence of what would become (with further precisions) the Christian theologian's teaching on purgatory." See The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, ed. Raymond E. Brown, SS, etal., art. 26, "1-2 Maccabees" (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1990) 446. Gehinnom in Jewish writings is more appropriately understood as a purgatory than a final destination of damnation.

[3] Spanish-speaking Catholics today popularly refer to All Souls Day as "El Día de los Muertos", a relic of the past when the pre- Christian Indians had a "Day of the Dead"; liturgically, the day is referred to as "El Día de las Animas". Germans call their Sunday of the Dead "Totensonntag". The French Jesuit missionaries in New France in the seventeenth century easily explained All Souls Day by comparing it to the the local Indian "Day of the Dead". The Jesuit Relations are replete with examples of how conscious were the people of their duties toward their dead. Ancestor worship was also well known in China and elsewhere in Asia, and missionaries there in times gone by perhaps had it easier explaining All Souls Day to them, and Christianizing the concept, than they would have to us in the Western world as the twentieth century draws to a close.

[4] See Michael Witczak, "The Feast of All Souls", in The Dictionary of Sacramental Worship, ed. Peter Fink, SJ, (Collegeville: Michael Glazier/Liturgical Press, 1990) 42.

[5] "Three Masses were formerly allowed to be celebrated by each priest, but one intention was stipulated for all the Poor Souls and another for the Pope"s intention. This permission was granted by Benedict XV during the World War of 1914-1918 because of the great slaughter of that war, and because, since the time of the Reformation and the confiscation of church property, obligations for anniversary Masses which had come as gifts and legacies were almost impossible to continue in the intended manner. Some canonists believe Canon 905 of the New Code has abolished this practice. However, the Sacramentary, printed prior to the Code, provides three separate Masses for this date." See Jovian P. Lang, OFM, Dictionary of the Liturgy (New York: Catholic Book Publishing Company, 1989) 21. Also see Francis X. Weiser, The Holyday Book (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1956) 121-136.

[6] Ratzinger stated: "Limbo was never a defined truth of faith. Personally—and here I am speaking more as a theologian and not as Prefect of the Congregation—I would abandon it since it was only a theological hypothesis. It formed part of a secondary thesis in support of a truth which is absolutely of first significance for faith, namely, the importance of baptism. To put it in the words of Jesus to Nicodemus: "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God" (John 3:5). One should not hesitate to give up the idea of "limbo" if need be (and it is worth noting that the very theologians who proposed "limbo" also said that parents could spare the child limbo by desiring its baptism and through prayer); but the concern behind it must not be surrendered. Baptism has never been a side issue for faith; it is not now, nor will it ever be." See Ratzinger, The Ratzinger Report, 147-148.

[7] Morrissey, "Afterlife" in The Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, 28-29.

This article was originally published, in a slightly different form, as "To Trace All Souls Day," in The Catholic Answer, vol. 8, no. 5 (November/December 1994): 8-11.

Related IgnatiusInsight.com Articles and Book Excerpts:

• On November: All Souls and the "Permanent Things" | Fr. James V. Schall, S.J.
• Death, Where Is Thy Sting? | Adrienne von Speyr
• Purgatory: Service Shop for Heaven | Reverend Anthony Zimmerman
• The Question of Hope | Peter Kreeft
• The Next Life Is a Lot Longer Than This One | Mary Beth Bonacci
• My Imaginary Funeral Homily | Mary Beth Bonacci
• Do All Catholics Go Straight to Heaven? | Mary Beth Bonacci
• Be Nice To Me. I'm Dying. | Mary Beth Bonacci
• Are God's Ways Fair? | Ralph Martin
• The Question of Suffering, the Response of the Cross | Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger
• The Cross and The Holocaust | Regis Martin
• From Defeat to Victory: On the Question of Evil | Alice von Hildebrand

Father Brian Van Hove, S.J., is the Chaplain to the Religious Sisters of Mercy of Alma, Michigan.