Mass is boring!

I'm mulling over some of the posts already written in Benedictus PP XVI:
http://www.librarything.com/topic/149856

I think we miss out on several areas of explicating the Mass to Catholic children. And then as adults, we each come to its riches without much assistance from the hierarchy, unless we are interested enough to pursue it on our own.

First, I think we’ve lost an appreciation for ritual. Wikipedia defines it as “a set of actions, performed mainly for their symbolic value.”

And then “The field of ritual studies has seen a number of conflicting definitions of the term. One given by Kyriakidis (2007) is that a ritual is an outsider's or "etic" category for a set activity (or set of actions) which to the outsider seems irrational, non-contiguous, or illogical. The term can be used also by the insider or "emic" performer as an acknowledgement that this activity can be seen as such by the uninitiated onlooker.”

A useful line on the religious symbolism page is “Religious symbolism is effective when it appeals to both the intellect and the emotions.” Although I think we need to recover more value than the symbolic, we have to admit that, often, there is a disconnect between what we do at Mass, and how we think and feel about it.

I’ve only infrequently experienced community JOY of celebration at Mass; and this has been largely at two particular locations. One is at (charismatic) University of Steubenville, in Ohio, and the other at an inner city church in Philadelphia, attended by mostly African-Americans. Although my home church is well attended and the music is very good, with lots of participation, there is only once when people came out of service remarking about the Spirit that filled the church - and it was tangible - once.

We are too subdued for our childrens’ good, perhaps. Teens who have attended summer services at Steubie U, come back begging for a less restrained experience of worship. I acknowledge the tension between decorum and abandon at Mass; and I think we need to pay more attention to this for their sakes and our own.

Since society has diminished its appreciation of ritual, we have a harder time grasping the reality of what we are actually doing, being done to, participating in, experiencing. And what happens at Mass is so enormous, that words and explanations only give a small inkling of what it actually is. Yet we repeat the same few explanations in our catechisms, and fail to explore the depths which our teens crave.

Losing the taste for ritual - that is an interesting and apt observation. I wonder how many families still practice domestic rituals: daily meals, for example, with linens and grace? We still do, and it remains the best part of the day.

But, with regard to Mass, I think it also has to do with discipline. The practice of faith is a discipline, and I look at Mass as I look at other disciplines - running, a practice for the discipline of body; reading and study the practice for the discipline of mind, worship (Mass) the practice for the discipline of spirit.

We are runners - and recently my son (now teenage) came back from a long run and made the comment that "going to Mass is a lot like running: often, you don't want to go, but once you've been you feel great." (hmmm...I thought, we're making some progress here.).

The more I thought about his observation the more I agreed, and I thought about Mass for myself: perhaps I would get much more from Mass if I went daily, instead of just on Sundays. If I only ran on Sundays the running would be tortuous, wouldn't it? And while some runs are absolute slogs, some are wonderful - the course or trail doesn't change but my attitude and aptitude does. You don't realize the benefit of running sporadically, or at once: it takes weeks, seasons, years. But the effort is worth it.

This is a mundane comparison, and I hope it doesn't detract from what I also see as the beauty and mystery of Mass - and while I prefer Mass to all other activities, it doesn't diminish the joy in other activities but adds to it - it seeps into other parts of your life in a wonderful way.

from the other thread>
"But Mass is boring !" What Catholic parent hasn't heard a child (usually under the age of twelve) make that very same observation? My answer with our three has been: wait a while: a year, three, a life-time...but don't underestimate yourself. (Come to think of it, that was my mother's response to me.)

Yes. It is a discipline that takes a lifetime. And all during that time, it helps to be in dialog about it.

This is true – and not always easy. I like to joke with my mother about her low “retention rate” - even though she had a much bigger pool, her rate is only 50%. In retrospect, I see that my mother’s faith was (is) profound but also very private. She provided an exemplar, but not a true sharing. It was enough for 4.5 of us, but not the rest.

Raising children in the faith makes you realize the vocation of family life and brings parenting to a whole new level. This is an area where the Church could put some effort, I imagine. Catholic schools help, in our experience.

My mother's faith was indeed private, too. Nothing spoken, but always visible in mien and actions.

Huh! I was just counting up my mother's "success rate" and it's close to 50% as well. But I was noticing more that the siblings who still attend church are the ones I prefer spending time with. Not because they are religious or spiritual; but they are more loving and giving than the other half. The rest have allowed character flaws to fester and have become self-absorbed.

#6: Oh, my. I think you're living my life - or me, yours.

The other half in our family experience has attempted to replace their cradle Catholicism with : sex, booze, abstinence, therapy, new-age religion, old time religion, psychotropic meds, and - intermittently - all of the above swirled together in a self-absorbed stew of narcissism.

Luckily for me, I found philosophy in adulthood. That road led right back to Rome.

Does this constitute a valid sample? Same backgrounds, same genetics, one variable? Na, that's not fair. Our early life experiences do vary widely. But it is interesting.

My sample group is fairly large too - there were 11 of us.

11! My best friend had ten siblings, and I remember that house (a rambling, former beachside hotel) as a paradise!

Ours isn't a valid sample, but I do imagine that many Catholic families have similar stories. And, as I tell my children every time they're roped into service or recruited to help out in a crisis (this usually involves one of the experimental group): "Just think of the stories!"

I come from a family of only four but we have the same 50% split; two still involved in the Church, two not (of whom one is definitely atheist, the other probably not). That's with a devout Catholic mother and a non-Catholic non-religious father who nevertheless played his role in bringing us up Catholic.

My wife comes from a family of ten and all of them are still Catholics.

Hi John.

Your wife is Sudanese, right? Tell us about the different experience of the Mass in her community. I'm guessing a lot more open joy and celebration than what we limp along with sometimes.

>11 2wonderY: Actually my wife is Kenyan, but there are similarities between the Kenyan and South Sudanese liturgies.

They are long. A two hour Mass on Sunday is not unusual; if it's a special celebration you can reckon on three to four hours; when the South Sudanese Diocese of Tombura-Tambio celebrated its centenary a couple of months ago the Mass, at which Nigerian Cardinal John Onyaiken presided, lasted seven hours. The Mass really is a gathering of the community.

They are joyful and filled with music, and often liturgical dance. An African congregation finds it difficult to remain still when the music starts; people sway, clap and move with the rhythm. The women ululate. Hymns in the local musical style fare better than foreign imports. Our own Cardinal Gabriel Zubeir Wako has written music for the Arabic translation of the parts of the liturgy. We often use East African music such as the Ggaba Mass.

Many languages are used. In towns the Mass is usually in either English or Arabic, but readings and especially hymns may be in local languages (of which there are probably forty or so). In villages and outstations the Mass is usually in the local language.

At Mass in South Sudan the Sign of Peace is an extended event, which is not surprising in a country that has experienced conflict and violence for the best part of six decades.

The churches and chapels are usually packed, standing room only, often with crowds outside listening over the loudspeaker if electricity or a battery-powered PA system is available.

I could probably add more but that'll do for a start!

I really like this First Things article on mass as entertainment - it makes me realize what is missing from (and why I hate) the soft-rock /"Hallmark Channel sentimentality" in so many contemporary Catholic and Protestant services:

http://www.firstthings.com/article/2013/05/tragic-worship

from it:

"The problem with much Christian worship in the contemporary world, Catholic and Protestant alike, is not that it is too entertaining but that it is not entertaining enough. Worship characterized by upbeat rock music, stand-up comedy, beautiful people taking center stage, and a certain amount of Hallmark Channel sentimentality neglects one classic form of entertainment, the one that tells us, to quote the Book of Common Prayer, that “in the midst of life we are in death.”

It neglects tragedy. Tragedy as a form of art and of entertainment highlighted death, and death is central to true Christian worship."

I read the article quickly, and will go back to it, but my first reaction is to recoil at the notion that church and tragedic entertainment should be discussed together.
There are probably several convictions behind this
- US society, at least, enjoys a juicy news story in far excess of the need to know. Instead of watching with sympathy, we seem to have an insatiable appetite for voyeurism. (eg. Heard at work: Looking forward already to the TV movie version of the Cleveland abductions.)
- Tragedy as expressed in art and tragedy as entertainment are not the same thing. That is a hateful equation.
- "Entertainment" is not the solution to being bored. "Meaning" is what is to be found in the pew.
- What happens at the Mass is real, not a depiction.

Actually that was my initial reaction as well - I re-read the article twice and think I have a better understanding of the "tragic sensibility" that the author is referring to (and what you call): meaning. What happens at mass IS real, and is tragic - Catholics at mass re-live the eucharistic mass every day. We relive the tragedy, mourn the death and participate in the resurrection by the act of holy communion.

The use of the word "entertainment" is problematic for a modern audience, esp. an American one, that equates entertainment with passivity, voyeurism and distraction (Pascalian or not) - but that isn't the sort of entertainment the author invokes - rather a very real act of catharsis, in which we incorporate the lesson of the tragedic drama: we let it become a part of us.

Yes, I did catch some of that, too. The interesting thing about modern life is the lack of constant personal tragedy/suffering. We live lives that are only periodically punctuated by those things, rather than having them as constants. And society teaches us to run from them.

Right - or worse to institutionalize them - hospitals for the sick, old folk homes for the old folks, residences for the infirm or disabled - we take the very people who could help us live fully and sympathetically out of our lives and out of our immediate consciousness. We can no longer suffer suffering.

A shame for all involved.

Yikes, CARA stats: only 24% of American Catholics attend mass? Why identify as Catholic if you can't be bothered to participate in the essential practice of our faith? (Maybe I should also post this in the Professing Faith thread).

http://cara.georgetown.edu/CARAServices/requestedchurchstats.html

Back in Juba. Pentecost Sunday. This morning I went to Mass at St Michael's. This Mass is popular with expatriates, so there are many Africans, Asians, Europeans and Americans (north and south) there, along with some of the South Sudanese who are comfortable with the English language. The church is always full. We got there a couple of minutes late so we had to sit outside under the corrugated iron veranda which can shelter about 150 people from the sun.

St Michael's used to be an Orthodox church, but when the Orthodox community left during the civil war it was handed over to the Catholic archdiocese, where it became an outstation of the town's main parish, St Joseph's. Since the peace agreement was signed in 2005, many Ethiopians have come to Juba, so now there is an Orthodox Mass there for their community at 7 am every Sunday, before our 10 am Catholic Mass.

Mass today lasted less than two hours, with a homily of less than 30 minutes. Today we had the archdiocesan secretary general as our homilist, and he reflected on tribalism in light of the reading from Acts 2:1-11; our tribes and languages should not divide us but rather be united in the Holy Spirit and the message of Christ.

Singing wasn't so good today. They tried some new and complicated things, along with some rather weird special effects on the electronic keyboard organ thingie, and it didn't quite come off, I fear. The PA system went a little pear-shaped towards the end of the Mass so we only heard things intermittently in the closing stages.

Somehow, I missed the fact that it was Pentecost until I walked into church, and everyone was wearing red.
Our music was what we normally use, but I felt it was more glorious, perhaps because I'm working harder at hearing how we harmonize with the heavenly hosts.

>20 2wonderY: One year we missed Pentecost completely at one of our small rural outstations. Nobody could agree on whether it was Pentecost or not so we used different readings (can't remember which now) and only found out later that in fact we should have celebrated Pentecost that Sunday!

Another year I missed Easter, this time due to circumstances beyond my control. I was in Egypt for a few months before moving to Sudan. In Egypt the Roman Church follows the Eastern liturgical calendar, in Sudan the Roman calendar. When I moved to Sudan Easter had not yet taken place in Egypt but was already over in Sudan. It was a strange feeling having an Easter-less year.

Just reflecting on the OP, I can think of quite a few masses in our mud and thatch outstation chapels which were definitely not "boring":

- Scorpions dropping out of the roof onto the altar.
- Everybody standing in five or six centimetres of muddy water due to flooding, with the priest wearing wellies.
- The priest arrives late to find that the lay catechist has already started the mass. A sensible priest just gets his vestments on and takes over seamlessly from wherever the catechist has got to. As long as the Eucharistic Prayer hasn't started it seems to work OK!
- The priest having to dash out into the bushes, often more than once during the mass, vestments hitched up around his waist, due to dysentery.
- The priest battling swarms of flies around the chalice. In Europe it seems the pall* is rarely used to cover the chalice these days, but in Sudan it is an essential element in trying to keep the flies out of the wine.
- Gunfire, and sometimes bombs falling, not too far away.
- Chapel destroyed, mass under a big tree (indeed one Anglican bishop referred to a large tree as his cathedral after the real cathedral was bombed out. It remained so for a number of years until he was able to rebuild the old one).

__________________

* For non-Catholic readers, the pall is a small square of cloth-covered plastic or card used to cover the chalice.

I'll bet European cathedrals generally have a bird population inside, hence the original use of the pall. I've only been in one church where there was significant debris - flaking from the underside of the roof.

One year, our parish church underwent significant renovations and Mass was held "in the round" in the church hall. The chairs and people were crammed in together, and I loved those services. The singing was better, too. We had a piano accompaniment instead of the over-powering organ.

I'm not sure where it came from, but it's been hovering near the top of my pile next to my bed, so I plan to dip into Real Presence: The Work of Eucharist.
The back blurb and the introduction report that it's subjects are contemporary dialog and Catholic identity. It's a slim book, with only three chapters. The first chapter should be a direct opening up of the Cathechism, but already there have been repetitions of the concern for a "hollowing out" or "thinning" of Catholicism.

In the Introduction, the author does quote Bernard Cooke as saying: "Catholics are increasingly aware that they along with the ordained presider are the doers of the liturgical action..."

>23 2wonderY: they along with the ordained presider are the doers of the liturgical action...

I think that's very important. Nobody at Mass is a passive bystander, a mere recipient; all are active participants, or doers. But I'm not sure what you mean by "hollowing out" or "thinning" of Catholicism.

#23: they along with the ordained presider are the doers of the liturgical action...

Yes, certainly this is evident in the practice of daily mass in a small chapel, perhaps more so than in the crowded Sunday Mass. Intellectually, we know this, but it isn't always easy to focus without distraction and fully participate. I remember getting a jolt, not too long ago, when during a Lenten Mass the Priest said, "Peace be with you..." and I began to mouth automatically the response, "And with your Spirit.." when I looked up, and realized that the Priest was waiting for something more. It was as if time stood still, and I realized: it isn't enough just to say the words, I must return the peace! He's waiting for me to GIVE it to him, not just to say the words.

It was unsettling, in a way, but it did help to deepen my understanding of active participation at Mass.

Let us know about Real Presence.

"thinning out." I believe the thrust is that Catholics are less likely to believe the reality of the Eucharist nowadays.

>23 2wonderY:: "Catholics are increasingly aware that they along with the ordained presider are the doers of the liturgical action..."
and
>26 2wonderY:: "Catholics are less likely to believe the reality of the Eucharist nowadays."

I wonder if perhaps there is a connection here, but one that is positive rather than negative, to wit: a recovered sense from earlier Christianity of the Real Presence of the Mystical Body of Christ as both the Eucharist upon the altar and the Church as a whole.

While it would be incorrect to say that the laity at Mass are themselves co-consecrators of the bread and wine; it is correct to say that the entire congregation comprises the Body of Christ. Or, as the classic Anglican prayer of Thanksgiving after Communion puts it (emphasis added):

Almighty and everliving God, we most heartily thank thee, for that thou dost vouchsafe to feed us, who have duly received these holy mysteries, with the spiritual food of the most precious Body and Blood of thy Son our Saviour Jesus Christ; and dost assure us thereby of thy favour and goodness towards us; and that we are very members incorporate in the mystical body of thy Son, which is the blessed company of all faithful people; and are also heirs through hope of thy everlasting kingdom, by the merits of the most precious death and passion of thy dear Son. And we most humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father, so to assist us with thy grace, that we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory, world without end. Amen.

Perhaps not co-consecrators, but fully offerers.

One of my recent missions has been to convince lax Catholics that their presence is vitally required.
In the context of CCD, I have kids complete an exercise on a sheet of paper.
On one side we jot quick notes about their external lives - address, family, pets, neighbors, friends, school, clubs and activities, any problems they know about that need prayer. We discuss how the information overlaps - some kids go to the same school, for example. We note that parents prayers probably cover most of what is on the page.
Then we turn the paper over and time is given to writing about their inner lives. Interests, concerns, problems, questions, feelings, etc. This part cannot be covered by anyone else.
We talk about the obligation to bring their lives to God on a regular basis, for His blessing and attention. They are each responsible for their sphere.
We talk about tying this to the Offertory. At the last supper, Jesus claimed the bread and wine as being him. In the same manner, we can claim the same substances being carried up to altar as us and our world.

I once heard a distinguished Roman Catholic priest invite the people to communion in terms of "You are the Body of Christ: receive yourselves". Afterwards I heard an outspoken traditionalist (and Catholic convert) in the congregation grumbling about this as "pure heresy". Much later, I discovered that the priest was actually paraphrasing St Augustine. I wish I'd been able to go back and poke the traditionalist in the eye (metaphorically speaking, of course).

>29 MyopicBookworm: Un-metaphorically sounds much more fun...

Although since I am currently facilitating a meeting of the National Healing and Reconciliation Committee, perhaps I shouldn't be espousing such sentiments!

A question for those of you who dismiss "mass is boring": Was mass boring for early Christians? Did they need to reassure each other that it was a discipline, etc.?

>31 timspalding: How "early"? Different setting, at least for the very early Christians - a small group, feeling persecuted, having house meetings rather than a church, solidarity, etc.

>31 timspalding: & 32 I think johnthefireman's words "feeling persecuted" is key. Too many Catholics take the mass for granted. Nobody is stopping us from going. I guarantee you that if we who live in countries where we're free to worship how we please were to be denied that freedom - if we had to sneak to mass quietly in the dark or hide priests in our attics - we wouldn't think mass is boring.
However, for all Catholics, most important is awareness of what is REALLY happening during the mass.

I guess I remained unconvinced. It seems to me that mass in the African countries John works in is not boring in part because it's been extensively integrated into the culture there. I think I know something about that because my church is now about half African, and the music is awesome—the non-Africans enjoy it and the Africans clearly enjoy it.

The same is not true when I go to other churches in our "cluster." I'm not sure I'd want a Catholic mass extensively integrated with "American culture." But it might be better than what we get--music that varies from Catholic drab to Catholic dippy, and nowhere approaches either the beauty of traditional Catholic music or the earnestness of Protestant music of any century. Nobody is enthusiastic about the music—heck, almost nobody sings! Surely there's some deep failing there—perhaps 1/4 of the mass is music. A mass with boring music is a boring mass.

I think you could go point-by-point—to take the question of "why is it boring" more seriously. For example:

* Most readings are done in "the church voice"—a boring monotone. A lot of time is wasted switching between the readings.
* The language of the mass has recently become convoluted and stilted. Before it was, I think, too often flat and stripped of resonance. It's become far worse. The best description of much of it is the noise made by adults in the Peanuts cartoons.

Some things I've seen done right:

* At my church the prayers of the faithful are actually prayers of the faithful. Someone reads the official set, decided on by someone at the cluster office, I suppose. Then people who want to add a prayer, add one. About half are prayers for sick relatives, political ones are quite rare. It takes more time, but it feels less "canned" and it brings us all closer—not to mention actually BEING the prayers of the faithful.
* If the church is a community, there needs to be a coffee hour after.

Between the music and the community feel, masses at my church regularly go 1h 30mins, about twice the length at other churches in our cluster—churches that have the same priests in rotation, so it's not our priests who are extending it. We're increasingly packed. Something's working.

>Tim Spalding I understand your feelings in much of what of you wrote. However, you haven't mentioned once the Eucharist. THAT is the point of the mass. Whatever else happens - or doesn't happen - bread and wine become the body and blood, soul and divinity of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The holy mass is a participation in the worship eternally happening in heaven.

Believe me, I do understand the boredom you're experiencing in mass. I'm now in a very dull parish, too. Our priest mumbles the scripture readings in a monotone. We use no instruments at all (there's an old organ in the choir loft that hasn't been touched in years and my neighbor who used to play guitar at mass was basically forced to stop after some older ladies complained it made church like a discotheque). The singing is mainly by the old women in the congregation and is sure doesn't give me a warm feeling.

And yet - there's the Eucharist. When I'm in a state of grace, I can physically touch and take our Lord Jesus in this humble, dull little church.

>34 timspalding: masses at my church regularly go 1h 30mins

Yes, in Juba I usually attend the "short" Mass which only goes for 1 hr 30 mins!

When I was in Notre Dame earlier this year the Sunday Mass always took exactly 59 minutes. It was televised and I suppose they had to fit a given time slot. The homilies were very intellectual and professional, but we found something lacking. Maybe they were too slick and polished. They didn't sound as if they came from the heart. The two best homilies we heard were in parishes, one in upstate New York when we went to visit an old missionary friend and colleague of mine from Sudan who is now retired in his home parish, and one when we attended the African-American parish in South Bend IN. Both really spoke from the heart - and touched people's hearts.

Homilies? Music? If those were the compelling reasons to go to mass I doubt anyone would. Bottomof thepile is correct that the Eucharist is the central and essential point of the Mass. For me, the psalms and the Eucharist are acts of nourishment and maybe that's why I like daily mass so much: the mass stripped to is bare and essential elements. The rest of it - can be nice (that always feels like a bonus), can be disappointing, but not enough to diminish the joy and thanksgiving of holy communion.

>37 enevada: As I get older I appreciate more and more the quiet Mass which, as you say, is often to be found in daily Mass, or in small communities. I get frustrated with priests who feel they need to enlarge on every phrase in the Mass.

#38: "I get frustrated with priests who feel they need to enlarge on every phrase in the Mass."

I agree on the Mass. With regard to homilies, the less the better, too. Leave the preaching to the Protestants, is what I say. Under my breath, of course!

>39 enevada: Believe it or not, I used to teach homiletics and public speaking in the major seminary. I used to tell them to preach for a maximum of ten to twelve minutes and to make one point only (in the hope that the congregation might at least remember that one point). I was being counter-cultural, of course, and when I look at my former students who are now priests (and in one case, a bishop) I sigh as they regularly preach for 30 or 40 minutes straight. If I were teaching homiletics now I'd probably say 5 minutes instead of 10-12!

#40: thanks for your effort, at least!

At the very least, I'm grateful that the Church is the last remaining institution to withstand power-point.

Homilies? Music?

"By means of the homily the mysteries of the faith and the guiding principles of the Christian life are expounded from the sacred text, during the course of the liturgical year; the homily, therefore, is to be highly esteemed as part of the liturgy itself" (SC)

Homilies? Music?

"The musical tradition of the universal Church is a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art. The main reason for this pre-eminence is that, as sacred song united to the words, it forms a necessary or integral part of the solemn liturgy." (SC)

However, you haven't mentioned once the Eucharist. THAT is the point of the mass.

The eucharist may be the source and summit, and it is hard to overemphasize its importance to a Catholic, but I'm afraid I think you guys really do overemphasize it. I think you're missing out.

The "point" of the mass is the worship of and communion with God. The eucharist is, obviously, important, but the rest of it is also important—it is, in fact, repeatedly called "essential." As Sacrosantam Concilium put it, the mass is "in a sense" divided into two pieces, but "so closely connected with each other that they form but one single act of worship." (SC) Christ is present in both parts of the mass in different and interdependent ways. The Liturgy of the Word leads up to eucharist, but is also founded on it. The eucharist is a sacrament--a real thing, not just words, as it were--but all the sacraments are, as Presbyterorum Ordinis puts it, "precisely sacraments of faith, a faith which is born of and nourished by the word."

I think this overemphasis can lead one in various false directions, including dismissing the importance of music and the homily. These you did. I won't accuse you of it, but I think the ideas on offer here also lead rather easily to dismissing the centrality of the Bible in mass too.

More generally, exclusive focus on the eucharist cuts against the last ecumenical council and its call for an interior understanding--not merely practicing--of our faith. And it cuts against the Councils restoration of more ancient ways of liturgy, including the participation of all the faithful. Before Vatican II it was commonly said that it didn't matter when you arrived at mass, so long as you did it before the elevation. Nowdays I think Catholics ought to realize this sort of thinking is fundamentally truncated.

With the eucharist as the "point" of the thing, and, far worse, with the rest as a "nice" and a "bonus" (!), you can lose the full range of ways Christ is present in the liturgy--as the eucharist itself, yes, but also as the word of God in Scripture, and as the body of Christ in the Christian community.

Believe me, I do understand the boredom you're experiencing in mass.

No, our mass is rather exciting—in part because of the African music, and because we do some things well—the things I've seen done right, above. But I find it rather boring in the other churches in our "cluster."

>42 timspalding: You're right, of course, Tim, about the importance of music and homily, the importance of Mass as communion (not just Communion) and assembly, the interplay of Word and Eucharist. I hope I didn't dismiss any of these; that was not my intention. I still don't like over-wordy priests, though!

>36 John5918:: "When I was in Notre Dame earlier this year"

We rarely went to services in the Basilica (upper church), because my wife is allergic to the incense; when we were attending services, we went to the parish church (Sacred Heart) in the crypt below, where the length was variable -- but even then, my wife usually had to bail about 3/4 of the way through, when the incense started to "leak" from upstairs. (By the way, John, did you notice that they have a count-down clock installed in one of the transept's main pillars, on a side facing the main altar? That's so that the celebrant knows just how much time he's got left in the 59 minutes.) Another graduate student (medievalist in the history department) also liked going to the African-American parish, so you aren't the only one who appreciated their heart!

The other church we attended in South Bend (Broadway Christian Parish), although Methodist, took a high-liturgical line, so it was a full Eucharist every Sunday. It almost always went at least an hour and a half, and yet, we rarely noticed the extra time.

I agree on the Mass. With regard to homilies, the less the better, too. Leave the preaching to the Protestants, is what I say. Under my breath, of course!

You're joking, of course, but I still find it objectionable. Homilies are an absolutely central part of the Christian faith. Where on earth would we be without the homilies of the fathers of the church?

I also disagree the homily should be short. There are a lot of reasons Catholics are more ignorant of their faith and of the interpretation of Scripture than Protestants. One is surely that Catholics get shorter homilies, often by priests untrained in the art of giving a good one, led on, no doubt, by the continuing prevalence that it's merely a bonus.

>45 timspalding: One is surely that Catholics get shorter homilies, often by priests untrained in the art of giving a good one

While both may be true, they are not the same thing and are not necessarily connected. A good short homily by someone who does know how to give a good one can be far more effective than a long one. As I have said (and taught, just as I was taught), make one point and make it well, and people will remember it. Try to make several, and most people won't remember any. I've listened to too many homilies which reach a climax and I'm thinking, "That's bloody good! That speaks to me, a new insight, something to reflect on..." when suddenly we're pitched into an anti-climax as he starts on something completely different (shades of Monty Python!) which might be equally good on its own but thoroughly eclipses the brilliance of the first point. When he gets to do this three or four times in the same homily, I yawn and switch off.

I don't think a respect for the role of silence in the Mass is necessarily antithetical to assembly, Word and Eucharist.

#45: I'm only half joking, as you (obviously) discerned. My faith is sustained by the bread of the Eucharist and the books of thousands of brilliant Catholic writers - the Saints, Church Doctors, Popes, Priests, Religious or lay people. Mass is the public expression and shared experience - and for a religious introvert like me, the least natural part of the "full range" of faithful life. The reading, reflection, prayer, and work of faith (labor) are easier than the sharing in community - that part always makes me a little queasy.

OK, I'm flawed. Or perhaps missed my calling as hermit.

>47 enevada:

Ha! Fair enough. :)

Actually I realize how habitual I am – our “regular” pew, that is, the one I prefer to sit in is directly behind a pillar so I contemplate concrete and stained glass. I like the pared-down focus of that environment, with no view of the altar until I go for communion, and then get the full visual experience. But my husband and kids always complain about the “sensory deprivation pew” , and the mean old grump (whom I’ve come to love) who sits behind us. But, I get that guy. And he smiled this year at Christmas – a rare and wonderful gift.

A boring, predictable mass can sometimes be a comfort--when one's life or that of loved ones is chaotic, e.g., illness, unemployment, or--the arrival of a "wild" child, who's a happy, calm young man today, but who really shook my world for a couple of years there! :) When he toned down a bit and I had no excuse to not bring him with me, I remember I depended on sitting close to rousing music--and the promise of donuts for good behavior--in order to make it through mass, which was never boring when he accompanied us in those wild days! Absolute worst was when he misbehaved in church, didn't get the donuts, and then misbehaved in car on the drive home! Yikes!!

Tim Spalding - Yes, you are right that the music and homilies are important. I don't want to "overemphasize" the Eucharist, especially considering that I love the Scripture readings and I really enjoy a good homily (I don't mind long ones as long as they're engaging).

I think something else important I haven't seen mentioned in anybody's posts is that we have the wrong attitude if we go to mass to "get something from it." We ought to go to "give thanks and praise."

I'll take a quiet but reverent mass any day over rah-rah pyrotechnics. To paraphrase enevada - "Leave that to the mega churches."

Hey, welcome to LT, BotP!

Several years ago, I read The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and one of Margaret Barker's book concommitantly. I think it was On Earth as it is in Heaven, but it might have been Temple Theology. The synergy of the two books was awesome. As McGukian was lining out sacrifice, Barker was giving details of First Temple rituals.

Ever since, I've been looking for graphic representations of the First Temple and practices. Hoping to find it in film, but so far, not much.

At Christ Renews His Parish, one of the exercises is to have someone open a bible for you randomly, and point to a passage for reflection. My passage was probably from Chronicles. It went into great detail about a particular worship service. Every person had a particular role to play. It was much like a pageant. They made a great noise. It was crazy loud and colorful. It must have been exhausting, but satisfying.

I think something else important I haven't seen mentioned in anybody's posts is that we have the wrong attitude if we go to mass to "get something from it." We ought to go to "give thanks and praise."

"Ask not what mass can give to you. Ask what you can give to your mass." ;)

>51 BottomOfThePile: We ought to go to "give thanks and praise."

Reminds me of Thomas Berry, to stand in awe in front of God's creation.

>1 2wonderY: - I've actually read all of the 50-something responses to this thread, and I doubt that I can add anything unique to the conversation, but I do want to add nevertheless some thoughts.

1) First, I share your positive experience at celebrations of Mass at Franciscan U. Steubenville. The reverence, the range of emotions freely expressed (from weeping to shouts of joy), the silences, the prayer in preparation and afterwards - so much was very beautiful. The formal education there in itself was good; the encompassing religious formation elevated the experience to excellence.

2) That said, my thoughts on the Mass may make more sense. The Mass is a complete event, made up of essential parts. Celebration, with "full conscious and active participation" of the Mass demands and deserves excellence. Just as the Christ Event did not occur immediately after the expulsion from the garden, nor immediately after the Flood, nor immediately after the promise was given to Abram nor to Moses - so also there is a Liturgy of the Word before the pinnacle of the Mass comes in the Liturgy of the Eucharist. All of salvation history is important; God has a plan and a process still at work.

3) Just as mankind was not ready for the Christ until "the fullness of the time", so men are not ready for the Consecration at the Altar, nor for Holy Communion in the Mass, until they are ready. The Liturgy of the Word is to bring us to readiness for Eucharist, similarly as the Old Covenant is to bring us to the New. First the Word in words is spoken and heard; then the Word as Person is believed and received and lived.

4) It is true that "The Eucharist is 'the source and summit of the Christian life'.” (Catechism 1324, LG 11) It is a painful fact that many Catholics do not know this, and/or do not understand what it means, and/or do not believe it anyway.

5) The solution to "Mass is boring," must not be "Let's make it more entertaining", or exciting or engaging. The right solution must bring each necessary part of the celebrated Mass to the richness, depth, maturity, reverence that it deserves - and that requires true shepherding of the members of the Church toward maturity in Christ.

I really like your #3, R. Thomas. I hadn't thought in those terms.

Did you attend Steubie U as a student? Or did you teach there?
I was there my freshman year, 1972-73. Though I was already falling away, I hung out with the "holy-roller" crowd and Sunday Mass was a new experience.

>56 2wonderY: Ruth, 1972-73 was my first year at university too. I was part of the Catholic chaplaincy crowd (we had our own bar and disco and held the best parties in the university!) but was also quite close to the Anglican "God Botherers".

Yes, the Joy of the Lord does spill over into all areas. We, too, had the best parties.

The solution to "Mass is boring," must not be "Let's make it more entertaining", or exciting or engaging. The right solution must bring each necessary part of the celebrated Mass to the richness, depth, maturity, reverence that it deserves - and that requires true shepherding of the members of the Church toward maturity in Christ.

I'm afraid I have to disagree. Let's do a counterfactual. Imagine the mass you go to, then make it more boring. Replace the good reader with a bad, slow and monotonous reader. Replace the lighting you have with very dirty windows and fluorescent bulbs. Change out the instruments and the piano with something worse. Replace the homily with a 30-minute one by a priest who drones on pointlessly. That mass would be more boring. It would be less entertaining, less exciting or engaging. Now imagine what would, in fact, happen to the number coming, and the joy they would bring to it.

Now, what if I proposed to change that? To make it more entertaining, more exciting and engaging? The path to that would probably be clear--we could all see the bad reader, bad lighting, bad instruments and musicians and the boring priest. We'd work to change them. Would that not be the solution?

Tim, you seem to be picking a fight. Some of those externals have no bearing on the vibrancy of the celebration. And those that do - monotonous readers and droning priests - do reflect a need for depth, maturity, etc. in the Spirit.

Tim's calling for Revival. Come to Jesus, Brother.

>59 timspalding: I think the words "more entertaining, more exciting and engaging" and "less boring" might mean different things to different people. Few would argue that the Mass should be boring, but some might be a little put off by words like "entertaining" and "exciting".

>56 2wonderY: I was there in the 1990's - then a grandfather - first taking theology/philosophy prerequisites with teen-age undergrads, then continuing for an MA in theology. It was a wonderful experience for my wife and myself.

>62 John5918:

Repeat after me in a low, monotonous tone: "Liiiiiiiift … uuuup … your … hearts." "We … liiiiiiiift … them … uuuup … to … the … Looooord."

>64 timspalding: Point clearly made. *wince*

>59 timspalding: Hi Tim,
The Mass may be judged by how entertaining and exciting it is, by persons seeking the merely subjectively satisfying. To be an enabler of such an "audience" does them no service at all. The Mass must speak to deeper values, calling forth value-responses that lead us to transcend ourselves - toward the eternal destiny of human persons, to our call into Christ. (Using the terminology of von Hilderbrand) The lighting may be perfect, the reader dramatic and even theatrical, the priest better than a professional actor or stand-up comic - to the applause of all in the audience - and to the continuing threat to their souls.

The solution is pastors who are mature, holy, well-formed and having true vocations as priests. Such pastors will shepherd the flock, and will administer the sacraments and especially Holy Eucharist as are deserved. Such shepherding will include leading the members ever deeper into the knowledge of and communion with Christ that is our common calling: into holiness, into the perfection of divine charity.

In my humble opinion! But God knows: the Church is His. I grieve over what I see, but God knows it all. There is a story of John 23rd, who having been made Pope was having trouble sleeping. One night, if I remember it correctly, he went to sleep with anxiety and had a dream: the Lord told him, "It is My Church, now you go to sleep." (Did I remember the story correctly?) Perhaps the Lord with intention is allowing the drowsy and lukewarm Church to continue, for now.

My wife and I host Saturday dinner for our extended circle of friends. After Vespers, we always spend time talking about the good from the week -- this is so we are mindful of the good done to us and the good that we do that can be offered to the Father as part of the offering at Sunday Mass. I did not start this custom, but I find it very help in preparing for and participating in Mass on Sunday.

I think this Patheos post on Catechis failure belongs here - simply for the reason that it touches upon church teaching and the preaching gap, and also, on a much more personal level, because I was very happy at Pentecost to see our parish church hang the felt banners (you older folks feeling some of that '70s mojo coming back?) with each of the gifts of the Holy Spirit listed. I spent that homily-time testing and retesting myself on what I think was a third grade religion class lesson.

http://www.patheos.com/Catholic/Repenting-Failure-Catechesis-Barbara-Nicolosi-05...

Wow! Amen to everything Nicolosi says. Good for her speaking up.
It is actually the god-parents who are supposed to be that main learning contact with the faith beyond parents. I love her model and would jump in readily.

God-parents, parents, teachers, religious - I do agree with some of the comments that family-based catechism is the best model, but sadly many parents hire-out (to teachers, coaches, scout leaders, etc.) all aspects of their children's education including their faith formation. Which leads to the "double-ignorance" problem that Nicolosi describes:

We are awash in a broader culture of banality, ugliness, and stupidity, and we have several generations of disciples who are completely incapable of coping with it because of their double ignorance of their faith. Double ignorance, from Plato, means they don't know, and they don't know that they don't know.

Even those of us who choose Catholic schools for our children need to step it up, to directly take on the responsibility of continued study, sharing and teaching of faith.

>68 enevada:, 69 This makes me a little uneasy. There is far more to being a Catholic Christian than knowing off by heart the gifts of the Holy Spirit, or indeed most of the other little gems in the old catechism (we used to call it the Penny Catechism). I would say that the prime purpose of catechesis is to help people understand, own and live the message, leading to ongoing conversion, metanoia, rather than rote learning. My own experience both of being catechised and of teaching catechetics, is that the newer modern approaches to catechesis generally work better, even if it means people can't spout facts to order.

John, you must not have read the whole article. Her point was we do need more rigor, but also teach the vitality and relevance of the faith.

#71: But, Johnthefireman, people can't "understand" or "own" what they don't know. Period. It isn't about rote learning or recall performance (although both strategies have effective learning applications) but about not ever being exposed to what it is you are supposed to know - the double-ignorance bind.

>72 2wonderY:, 73 Fair enough, but then maybe we have had different experiences of old and modern catechesis. I have been exposed (and I would say have exposed my catechumens) to a deeper understanding of the faith through modern methods than I ever was through the Penny Catechism. I don't deny that there are many Catholics who have not been effectively catechised, but I don't think a return to nostalgic methods will help the situation much.

I believe one of the challenges the Church tried to come to terms with over the last decades was people who had been catechised but never evangelised. Knowledge of the faith is fine, but it has to be put into practice.

I would also add that some of the most faithful Catholics I know, some of whom have literally died for their faith, barely had any formal catechesis. It's not catechesis that makes you a good Catholic.

#74: I disagree, but then I fully admit that I've never properly understood evangelizing - it baffles me. I understand teaching and study and allowing the subject the full time to absorb, analyze and incorporate knowledge. Evangelizing always seems like recruitment or sales to me - it makes me uneasy.

I think it's the difference between the "what" and the "why."

The what is the catechism. All the facts, history, teachings, etc.

The why is the salvation story, but personalized. Why is it important. God wants a relationship with me.

>75 enevada:, 76 To be honest, I don't think we're disagreeing on the basics, which is that we want committed Catholics who live their faith. To some extent that's what evangelising means to me (and I think it the context of the catechesis and evangelisation debate which I recall from a few decades ago). But perhaps we disagree on the means. That might also be because we have very different experiences of catechesis.

>72 2wonderY: you must not have read the whole article

Oops, you're right! I just went back to check and I realise now that it is four pages long and I only read the first because I didn't notice that there were others. I hate articles which spill over onto more pages; I wish they would just post them as a single page (but then maybe there would be less room for advertising?) At least Reuters and some other news websites gives you a "view article as single page" button. OK, end of rant about pet peeve!

Now I have read the whole thing, I have to say I find it unconvincing. It seems like shallow conclusions are being drawn from a collection of anecdotes which don't describe the Church as I experience it (which is not to say that there aren't bad examples out there, as there always have been and always will be). I can think of many good models of catechesis which I have seen in use in different parts of the world. But if she is speaking specifically about the US Church, then I haven't really experienced that at an intensive parish level for 20 years, and the parish I attended for two years then was one of the most committed I have seen anywhere, and yet one of the most open and modern in its style and its catechesis.

It also seems to draw the conclusion that if there are problems, they are necessarily related to poor catechesis. I think I would need to see a better argument linking the two before I would be convinced.

>73 enevada: through 77 - I take the "Great Commission" as it has been recorded in Scripture:

Mt 28:19 Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit,
20 teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age."

Evangelization means "make disciples" - i.e followers and learners under the discipline of Jesus.
"teaching them ALL that I have commanded you" I understand as ALL of God's will and truth that has been (or will be) revealed and entrusted to you, my Church.

The deposit of faith is the heritage of every disciple. It is our right to be given the fullness of the Gospel; it is our right to be discipled into holiness. The ministers of the Church have offered themselves to this "Commission" and are therefore obliged to obey Him, and to make of us ever-learning, ever-growing disciples on the path of holiness.

The Mass may be judged by how entertaining and exciting it is, by persons seeking the merely subjectively satisfying. To be an enabler of such an "audience" does them no service at all. The Mass must speak to deeper values, calling forth value-responses that lead us to transcend ourselves - toward the eternal destiny of human persons, to our call into Christ. (Using the terminology of von Hilderbrand) The lighting may be perfect, the reader dramatic and even theatrical, the priest better than a professional actor or stand-up comic - to the applause of all in the audience - and to the continuing threat to their souls.

Everything you say is completely true--and rather defensive. Of course I'm not saying that mass should have good music and effective readers but be spiritually empty. But for God's sake, having good music and readers ARE A GOOD THING! Sure, there's no necessary connection between the two, but there is a real-world, practical connection. The way you and others have been beating on me here, and the way many Catholic services are, in fact, run, you'd think that ununspiring, tired, boring services are a good thing. They're not. They're a bad thing!

If I may, we all agree that married love is founded on love and respect between spouses. That's fundamental. But that doesn't mean you should show up for a first date unshowered with a pizza stain on your shirt and proceed to monologue about your capacity to love in a low, inflexible monotone. And it doesn't mean that, after marriage, couples shouldn't cultivate that love by, say, going out on dates now and then.

>80 timspalding: Tim - You write, "Everything you say is completely true--and rather defensive." Rather defensive? That message was in response to your direct "offense" was it not, in which you began with "I'm afraid I have to disagree." Should I not have "defended" my post against your "disagreement"? I don't understand why you would want to say of my post that it was "rather defensive" as if that ought not be.

And no, I am NOT saying that "ununspiring, tired, boring services are a good thing." We agree - they are not. But they are the symptoms, not the problem, except for your word "uninspiring". How do you intend that word to be understood? The word "inspiration" is an important word in this context - it is a holy word, referring to holy things. Men seeking the merely "subjectively satisfying" at the Mass would have one meaning for "inspiring"; men seeking encounter with the living God quite another.

"Love" is another charged and misused word - even in the context of marriage. I would dare to say that many marriages were entered (and thus founded) on the seeking of the merely subjectively satisfying of the man and the woman. A marriage ought to grow, seeking a deeper and more mature covenant bond in real, true, lasting love. The Mass ought to help all in the congregation grow, similarly, in the eternal covenant with God in Christ.

After 30 years in Sudan I have just experienced, possibly for the very first time, a 45 minute Sunday Mass! A colleague and I went to the Saturday evening Mass in the main parish in Juba. It's the first time in years I have even been able to get inside that particular church for Mass rather than standing in the car park listening over loudspeakers - there were only a couple of dozen people present tonight. A small group said the rosary before Mass. The rosary is not part of my own private devotion, but prayer is prayer, and there is a mantra-like quality to it.

Last Sunday I was at the other end of the continent in the cathedral in Cape Town, a very different experience. They still use one of those old pulpits where the priest ascends a spiral staircase and towers over the congregation. Singing wasn't up to much but they had a very nice organ.

Mass this morning at the Consolata Shrine in Nairobi. It's an ugly grey building made of concrete blocks, dating from the '60s or early '70s, with a tower that reminds me of a concentration camp watchtower. The bells play Christus Vincit before Mass. The acoustics are horrible, possibly because it was designed for people to project their voices rather than rely on tinny public address systems, but the singing was beautiful. Mass was in English but the songs were in both English and Kiswahili. As part of its programme for the Year of Faith, today's homily was the first in a series of twelve catechetical reflections on the Nicene Creed. The bidding prayers were all on the theme of peace, showing again perhaps how priorities for the Church in Africa are often different from those in the west.

>83 John5918:- You are in a different world, John. Or I am. Please pray for us, we who are in the far-too-comfortable West/"1st" World countries - in lands flowing with toys and debt. The bill is coming, and I am afraid we are not prepared for it.

Just so long as I don't need to return my Barbie's Dream House! ;)

11.30 am Mass this morning at St Theresa's Cathedral in Juba. I rarely go to the cathedral unless there is a special event, as it is so crowded, but I'm part of the team hosting a visit by US Bishop Richard Pates and he was the presider this morning. Fortunately I was able to sneak in through the sacristy with the bishops' colleagues and we were able to get good seats three rows back, just behind the US Ambassador, a committed Catholic who is always to be seen at one of the city's parishes of a Sunday. The President of South Sudan is also a regular parishioner at the cathedral but was absent today. The Mass started 20 minutes late due, as usual, to the previous Mass overrunning, and with Bishop Pates' modest but thoughtful homily the Mass was only 1 hour 40 minutes long. It was very hot when we started, but halfway through the sky darkened and the temperature dropped noticeably (and pleasantly), and it began to rain just as we were leaving. The rainy season has been late and poor this year so far, so rain is interpreted as a blessing.

Singing was very good, better than usual, as the choirs of the three city parishes are doing an exchange programme and we had St Joseph's choir, obviously keen to make an impression at the cathedral. St Theresa's choir is singing at St Kizito's, and St Kizito's at St Joseph's. The singing of the creed was interesting. After each clause had been sung by the choir, they sang, "Do you believe?" and everybody replied, "Yes I believe". Traditional music, whether secular or religious, in many parts of Africa often contains a verse sung by a cantor followed by a refrain sung by everybody.

Today is the Golden Jubilee of the priesthood of our Cardinal Gabriel Zubeir Wako, now in another country (the "rump" Sudan) but still the President of the bishops' conference which covers both nations of Sudan and South Sudan, and this joyful anniversary was noted during the Mass.

Great stuff, John.

10 am Mass back at my usual haunt in Juba, St Michael's, which is a small outstation of St Joseph's. Today we found ourselves sitting under the veranda outside, where there was a nice cool breeze. The PA system didn't work at all today, which is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, we couldn't hear anything; on the other, we were spared the crackles, distortion and feedback that the PA system usually produces. The rain beating on the corrugated iron roof meant that we probably wouldn't have heard much anyway, even with the PA. Sometimes one just has to enjoy the community experience of Mass without the words.

Mass only took 1 hour and 45 minutes, despite a 24 minute homily (which of course we couldn't hear) from an Italian priest whom I don't recognise; either he's new or he has come in from decades of exile deep in the bush.

I think I've mentioned before that we don't pass round a collection plate, but a lay minister stands at the front with a basket and everyone goes up there to put in their offering. Today baskets were apparently in short supply and we had to drop our cash into a blue plastic washing-up bowl.

Saturday evening Mass in St Joseph's again last night. Once again only about a dozen or so people present, and all over in 45 minutes. At eight minutes the homily was one of the shortest I'd ever heard from a South Sudanese priest. I discovered that this Mass is a movable feast. If there is a wedding on Saturday afternoon it often overruns and clashes with this 7 pm Mass, so the congregation ups and moves en masse to Comboni House, 5 minutes drive away, and has the Mass in their chapel.

The Mass is run (did I nearly say controlled?) by a redoubtable Argentinian woman who works for the UN. She hands out prayer cards and ensures that we all say a "Consecration to Jesus' Holy Eucharistic Heart" after the priest's opening greeting and an "Act of Consecration to Mary's Immaculate Heart" just before the dismissal. Devotion to the Immaculate Heart of Mary is not unusual, I suppose, but I'd never heard of Jesus' Holy Eucharistic Heart before. Anyone else heard of it? Is it part of popular piety in South America?

This was a pleasure to read this morning, with my tea: Catholic University of America's summer issue. Article entitled, "One Community: Worshiping in Word & Music":

(the pdf link works better than the digital edition):

http://cuamagazine.cua.edu/res/docs/2013-summer/OPT20Feature-1.pdf

(but if you really want the digital edition, go here: )

http://www.pageturnpro.com/The-Catholic-University-of-America/52109-The-Catholic...

>90 enevada: Thanks, enevada. Much of that seems to capture something of the spirit that I encountered in the liturgy at Notre Dame when I was there earlier this year.

You're right about that digital link - it's really weird!

Morning Mass at St Michael's two weeks in a row now, and we got there early enough to get a seat inside, last week behind a pillar, but this week in a place where we could actually see the altar. We've had two elderly US priests, who both give good homilies.

Last week was Jim, a retired Maryknoll Missionary who has held high office in his congregation but came back to work in the pastoral team of Solidarity with South Sudan. SSS is a unique new model of mission, where over 200 religious congregations have got together and between them contributed around 30 missionaries to South Sudan, from I don't know how many countries and continents. It means that religious orders which don't have the resources, personnel or know-how to send missionaries independently can now do it as part of SSS. Those which don't have personnel can contribute in other ways, including funds, advocacy and prayers. SSS assists the local Church in four areas: training nurses and midwives, teacher training, agricultural training, and supporting the pastoral and spiritual work of the Church. Their missionaries live in mixed communities - mixed religious orders, mixed nationalities and mixed gender - in four or five towns scattered across the country.

This morning was Mike, a Jesuit, now in his eighties. He is the founder and vice-chancellor of the Catholic University in South Sudan. He specialises in setting up Catholic universities in Africa - this is his third or fourth, I believe, although he has also done other work. The university is now in its sixth year and has graduated two classes. This year it has one thousand students in two campuses. He is now in the process of handing the vice-chancellorship over to a South Sudanese priest. I can say with some satisfaction that the new vice-chancellor is a former student of mine. He passed by after Mass to give Mike a lift home and made a point of reminding Mike that I was the one who first taught him English; that would be 27 years ago now.

Edited to add: Mike also flashed a copy of Lumen Fidei and encouraged everybody to read it. He even offered to subsidise it for those who wanted to buy a copy from the Pauline Sisters' bookshop but couldn't afford the full price.

>92 John5918:

Mass today was great in Portland—my favorite of the "cluster" priests, and the African choir sang some of its best hymns. My son is also learning how to pray better, and I think that's ultimately the key.

I wish you were there today, however, John. The priest's homily spurred a fellow parishioner, Rodents, to open up to a number of us about his experiences in South Sudan during the recent civil war—I gather he left South Sudan around 2000. His English is good, but his storytelling is a bit disjunctive. Still, his experiences were fairly hair-raising. I gather he was involved in helping refugees camped out at the Cathedral(?) in Juba. He had all sorts of great details about how people cooked--he said the church looked like it was on fire all the time--and how they went to the bathroom. It was also interesting to hear about his youth—he grew up without electricity, and now I'm teaching him PowerPoint ;)

>93 timspalding: Thanks, Tim. It's amazing what ordinary South Sudanese did in the face of adversity. Many of those stories have never been told, and probably never will be, but they are very inspiring.

Why some youth are bored at Mass: http://supertradmum-etheldredasplace.blogspot.ie/2013/08/why-some-youth-are-bore...

I like the meet up here, of our recurring “Mass is Boring!” theme and St. John of the Cross’s admonition in Dark Night of the Soul on the fleshpots of Egypt ruining the taste for manna.

“You’ll spoil your dinner if you eat that now” comes to mind – I never understood the logic as a child, but employ it now as a mother.

Also, I like her "formation tips" - and especially her call to make daily prayer part of the rhythm of your family life.

From The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross: As the children of Israel, merely on account of that single affection for, and the remembrance of, the fleshpots of Egypt, could not taste the delicious bread of angels, the manna in the desert, which as the divine writing tells us, had ‘the sweetness of all taste’ and ‘turned to that everyman would’, so the mind that is still subject to any actual or habitual affection or particular or narrow mode of apprehending, or understanding anything, cannot taste the sweetness of the spirit of liberty, according to the desire of will. The reason is this: the affections, feelings and apprehensions of the perfect spirit, being of so high an order and specially divine, are of another kind and different from what is natural; and in order to be actually and habitually enjoyed require the annihilation of the latter.

St. John goes on to teach us how to bring that annihilation of false light (through darkness) to allow for the Divine light of the highest kind.

(A personal digression, and question: this particular passage, for me, is so startling because it is so similar in style and words to the writing of Proust, and to the very critical structure and starting point of his masterwork, A la Recherche du temps perdu. I wonder (and I’m sure MMcM will provide the answer in 00:00:37) – did Proust read St. John of the Cross? I’ve never found any reference in my reading, but the parallels are almost eerie. )

(MMcM must be out sick today.)

The boredom of youth is like the complaining of the Israelites in the desert. It is actually sinful.

I find that article retch-inducing. She may succeed in brainwashing her children, but she shall only do so by killing their spirit.

#97: I think you both over-react, in opposite extremes - I also wouldn't consider boredom as sinful, but neither do I find any measure of imposed discipline as "soul-killing." In fact, I think the responsive Catholic parent needs to be able to bridge the gap between the 'natural' inclination (used here in the sense that St. John of the Cross uses it in this passage) of the child and the discipline of shared and formal practice of faith.

I also think boredom is often a great catalyst for pursuit - intellectual, spiritual or otherwise, if it is paired with curiosity - so, in that sense, it is an opportunity.

To go a little deeper, the piece illustrates all the hallmarks of Catholic fundamentalism and revanchism. The world is evil. The world is in permanent conflict with the sprit. The Catholic church is largely of this world, with only a tiny, remnant apart from that. True catholics must create a parallel culture, with high walls and guards to prevent contamination. Catholic children must separated from the start, and brought up under rigorous parental mind control, aping as far as possible the manners and though processes of a long-dead culture.

At root, this is a Jansenist mindset--ideas that sound pious and contain much that is true, but which in their finality and agglomeration are heretical.

Honestly, wouldn't the author agree on this?

"There are but two loves, from which all our volitions and actions arise: love of God, which does all things because of God and which God rewards; and the love with which we love ourselves and the world, which does not refer to God what ought to be referred to Him, and therefore becomes evil."

See http://www.papalencyclicals.net/Clem11/c11unige.htm

Maybe – but my point of connection is in the work of St. John of the Cross – which could also be read through the same prism. I admit difficulty with his work – but don’t see the call to build a parallel and sequestered culture as much as a call to distill the raw goods of our earthly life into something better, more clarified, more refined.

But I appreciate the thought – and do think it is a part of our Catholic identity, and the cultivation of it – I’ve often referred to Catholic culture as being authentically ‘counter-culture’ and I hope this doesn’t come across with chauvinistic intent. The choice, for example, to send children to Catholic schools is not to keep them quarantined from public schools but to choose the education that will best and most fully replicate and respect the values that we espouse as a family. We are apart, to a certain sense, but we are also of this world. Again, I think it comes down to a balance that is probably unique within each family. But I’d love to hear from other Catholic parents who grapple with the same topics, and may or may not come to the same conclusions.

I think it's a great balance. We must love the world. We must engage with the world. We must encourage our children to dine with sinners, as Jesus did. But we may justly caution them against doing jello sliders with sinners every Thursday.

Good advice! Every other Thursday, then.

Hmmm, I can see where Tim is coming from. I too noted that the poster's name is Supertradmum and that she recommends the Tridentine Mass, and seemed to identify personally with the rich diet listed (the allergies.) And I read her with caution.

But I've lived long enough to acknowledge that we are in a particularly sinful age. Most of what we are offered is cake (not bread) and circuses. It takes quite some willpower for an adult to resist spending all their time in the jacuzzi of feel good, how much more so are children at risk of not developing an inner life.

I printed out the article and plan to read it with more focus.

I know I regress spiritually when I am not faced with real challanges.
I do like her suggestions, for the most part. Pay attention. Help your child develop a spiritual life. See boredom as a signal for more attention.

#103: By the way, 2WonderY - this has been a terrific thread. Thanks for starting it - it is a chance to visit with Catholics all over the world and at different points on the path at once - most appreciated.

> 95, 96
Sorry. Day job.

Have you read Monsieur Proust's library? John of the Cross does not figure among the usual suspects, like Saint-Simon and Ruskin (how good his English really was and how much he depended on his mother being open to debate). Which certainly does not rule out his having read him, although it does make it being a major influence less likely. Still even a Catholic-Jewish non-believer might have some familiarity with the resultant mystical tradition, as apparently La Transposition esthétique des valeurs chrétiennes dans l'œuvre de Marcel Proust found.

It's entirely a matter of taste, but I think perhaps John of the Cross's prose style sometimes crosses the line into the overwrought in a way that Proust and James never do, even at their most labyrinthine and digressive. Content aside, the style and words mostly feel like Baroque Spanish to me.

I just posted this positive experience of youth and liturgy from NCR in another thread, which might also be relevant here:

Questioning together: Young adults celebrate teaching liturgy on retreat

For the first time in my young adult life, though I sat in a pew toward the back, I felt cherished, respected and esteemed: I felt a sincere connection with the source and summit of the Catholic faith...

While the significance of the liturgical colors, or the theologically appropriate name for the liturgical vessels used during the meal now escapes my memory, the spirit of companionship-in-questioning that filled the chapel throughout the liturgy continues to move me...

>95 enevada: I've just glanced at that link, and my first reaction is that John of the Cross is pretty deep spirituality which is rather challenging for even the most mature Christians. To use it to analyse youth seems a little over the top.

#105: You never disappoint! Yes, I’ve read Muhlstein’s charming if not terribly informative book. And, as you write, so much has been written about the Anglo influence on Proust, especially Ruskin, that it occurred to me I’ve never read anything of influence of the Spanish mystics, whose writing style and subject matters (contemplative transcendence, among other things) seem so similar. I will give the Lempart a look, thanks for the suggestion.

I was browsing an art textbook, and came upon this quote from the Patriarch, Photius concerning the impressions of spectators on entering his church:

“It is as if one had entered heaven itself with no one barring the way from any side, and was illuminated by the beauty in all forms shining all around like so many stars, so one is utterly amazed. Thenceforth, it seems that everything is in ecstatic motion, and the church itself is circling round. For the spectator, through his whirling about in all directions and being constantly astir, which he is forced to experience by the variegated spectacle on all sides, imagines that his personal condition is transferred to the object.”

The author of the textbook was describing a method of the mosaicists - where they wanted the image to glow - such as halos, they would use raked tiles which catch the light, particularly with flickering lamplight and movement of the observer.

It led me to meditate on the raw beauty concentrated in our churches.
I remember spending many hours in early youth, concentrating on one particular magnificent stained glass window saturated in color.

In earlier centuries, the church would have been the main location of man-made beauty available to the common person. A feast for the eyes might have been a great motivator to go to church. Even 50 years ago, visual riches were not as easy to tap as they are today.

>109 2wonderY: I have often spent time in old English churches admiring their beauty and their peaceful, reflective, prayerful atmosphere. Although I couldn't tell you which period was which, it was very clear even to the architectually illiterate such as myself that they had been built, modified and often rebuilt during different periods, and there were striking differences even within the same church.

When I was in El Obeid 30 years ago the Catholic cathedral was considered by many to be the most beautiful building in the whole of western Sudan, an area bigger than several European countries put together. Muslims would come from all over to see this beautiful church on the eastern fringes of the Sahara Desert. In fact by our own standards it wasn't a particularly beautiful church, but it was big, solid and striking, and had nice wall paintings.

I was going to go on about lowered church attendance nowadays, but my computer shut down for lack of battery power.

The quote also put me in mind of Margaret Barker who has a lot to say about First Temple decoration, and how it was meant to remind occupants of the Garden of Eden.

Might there be a correlation between atheism and beauty found outside of the church? The atheists I know are all very visual.

I started reading the introduction of Worthy is the Lamb; the biblical roots of the Mass and know I'm on a correct path, as Nash first describes the visual experience of walking into his childhood parish church - St. Mary of Redford in Detroit, and the stained glass and statues that convey a progression of elements of faith as one walks towards the altar.

I love when material from one source (the art textbook in #109) resonates with something else I'm reading.

1

The last time I was at Mass was before the explosion of mobile phones and mobile technology. I'm sure for some, Mass isn't as boring as it used to be for them!

Ha. I NEVER see mobile phones in mass. I often take mine out to read the readings--particularly since the first is often read only in French. I fear people think I'm checking Twitter or something…

A few short extracts from the diary of one of my colleagues:

Christmas Day 2013: Nobody came to pray at St. Joseph’s cathedral except for one boy who was not probably realizing how critical the situation was. A short mass amid the cracking of the guns was celebrated at the Fathers’ House, at the dining table because the chapel was too exposed to the stray bullets on the road. A small statue of the Baby Jesus was put in the middle.

05 January 2014: In spite of the dire situation... people started the new year with some hope. The Sunday of the Epiphany witnessed the first ‘normal mass’ at St. Joseph’s Cathedral since Advent time. The new statue of the Baby Jesus was set on the altar area with its own decorations and shining lights, to the joy and curiosity of the children. The situation remained tense...

12 Jan: It was Sunday morning and I was preparing the Cathedral for the first Mass when the Parish Priest told me that he was not sure if the faithful would at all attend it. Immediately we went back to the same scenario already lived before Christmas. Groups of people, mainly women and children, started appearing on the road, all carrying a few belongings on their heads and walking swiftly towards the port or the north of the town. Others still, entered the compound of the church and sat down with their little luggage next to them... As a matter of fact, about twenty faithful attended the first mass. For the Arabic mass the number was even less. I attended almost two masses, in real dismay and not knowing what to think...

14 Jan: Sisters and Fathers were gathering for the morning mass with a few other people when the deep sound made by the firing of the tanks started being heard at a distance. The prayer continued and by 8 a.m. the artillery was shooting in three different areas... Those trickling in to the compound of the Cathedral kept on steadily increasing...

18 Jan: The looting was going on house to house. Terrified people were still reaching the compound of the cathedral that was by then holding 6,500 IDPs camped in the most precarious situations. Women and children had been given the limited accommodation indoor and the rest was staying in the open, facing the cold nights of January. Sr. Cecilia set up an improvised dispensary and with the help of medical personnel sheltering at the Cathedral was attending the sick, who kept on increasing in number. The Catholic Church buildings in the various areas of the town, two Presbyterian churches, the hospital and the orphanage became all safe havens for the civilians seeking protection from a violence that seemed not ending...

19 Jan: The Sunday Mass, officiated in the open by the Vicar General of the Diocese, was a very participated and moving moment. Faithful of different Christian denominations, including their Pastors, all cried to God in a moment of such anguish...

There's far more, but I just wanted to highlight the bits which refer to the Mass.

Mass is certainly not boring!

In response to the original post, I prefer Mass to be 'boring' - well all except the homily.
I would hate to belong to one of those guitar twanging charismatic churches that feel the need to include rock and roll to bring in the vibrant youth or stir up the congregation.

Pope Francis: Going to Mass should be a life-changing event (NCR)

When I saw the definition of the Mass in the instruction that precedes the Novus Ordo, I said: "This definition of the Mass is unacceptable; I must go to Rome to see the Pope." I went and said: "Holy Father you cannot allow this definition. It is heretical. You cannot leave your signature on a document like this." The Holy Father replied to me: "Well, to speak truthfully, I did not read it. I signed it without reading it."

- Charles Cardinal Journet of Geneva (1891-1975), explaining that Paul VI signed texts that he had not read.

Another long mass today, at 110 minutes. The homily was 25 minutes, but actually it wasn't boring as the priest incorporated an exploration of the bishops' Pastoral Exhortation into his exposition of the scripture texts, something he has been doing for the past three Sundays and will continue during Lent (as the letter explicitly calls for prayer and fasting for peace and reconciliation).

This morning I heard one of the best homilies I have ever heard in my life. Our Philippino priest managed to weave the story of the Transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-9) into what is happening in South Sudan today and to draw lessons from it. I had non-Catholic international visitors from peace and reconciliation NGOs with me and they were equally impressed.

I listened to audio lectures by Brant Pitre and Scott Hahn yesterday, so was trying to stay in the moment during Mass today. It's difficult, but the music was heavenly, which helps.

Gotta re-read The Lamb's Supper and maybe even Revelation alongside it this season.

This morning I went to Mass in St Ignatius, the church attached to the Jesuit University of San Francisco. It's a huge and magnificent church, celebrating its centenary this year I believe. It seemed like a very small congregation is such a big church. They tell me it is used for graduation and I wonder if that is the only time it is full?

The Mass felt slick and well-practised, but somehow it lacked warmth, despite being billed as the family Mass, and despite the best efforts of the presider, a rather jolly old chap. In quite a few of the Masses I have attended in the USA I get the feeling that they are striving for rubrical perfection but are somehow missing something deeper. Sweeping generalisations, I know, but in both Europe and Africa I seem to experience less perfection but more spirit. Mind you, they fell a little short of perfection today as the first two readers read from Year B; only the priest got it right and read the Gospel from Year A.

Music was excellent, a school choir (a very posh one, I surmise, wearing British-style school uniforms), and two excellent cantors, one male and one female. But there was very little participation from the congregation. Most of the accompaniment was from a grand piano on the sanctuary, but it was nice to hear the organ for the final hymn, even though the hymn wasn't that rousing. Big churches lend themselves to big organs.

The whole thing seemed very short, not much more than 45 minutes. I'm used to a short Mass being 90 minutes! The homily was only six minutes but I have to confess that I don't remember any of it less than two hours later, so I obviously didn't find it very memorable.

I went to St Stephen's Cathedral in Brisbane yesterday for 10 o'clock mass. The church was well attended and participation in responses and hymns was good. I have begun to pay more attention to the folk around me and there is a large racial mix: obviously your Europeans but also plenty of south east Asians and Indians, When I came back to mass this was strange to me as I had only previously experienced chapels full of white Northern Britains to the point of Homogeneity. I don't even notice now after several weeks nor do I notice the large amount of African priests. In fact its great to recognise that our faith is a global phenomena.

I have really been enjoying the readings and accompanied homilies. I think what is helping me here is pre reading them and reflecting on the message using the laudate app. It is then nice to hear the readings during mass then listen to the Priest's angle on the word.

All in all, I feel a mix of things as I attend mass now: happy, thankful, awe. love for God. This is such a beautiful experience that its difficult to articulate. I might be experiencing convert's enthusiasm, who knows, but somehow it is deeper than that. Anyway, I feel at home.

My son, mom and I went to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross, the Cathedral of the Boston Archdiocese. Yesterday had apparently been priestly ordinations, so today was the first mass of one of the new priests. There were very few people there--there was some talk that people went to the 8am, which included confirmations, not the 11:30--and of these about half were there to see him. These included family members and a gaggle of seminarians. There were seven or eight priests up there—it was like the priests were throwing a party and had forgotten to invite the laity. The sermon was very green--he has a lot to learn. And the music was minimal, the musical resources being mostly there for the earlier mass. This was unfortunate, as my mother's slight connection to the church is largely about the music. It was much less satisfying than a mass at my regular church in Portland.

That said, we toured the cathedral itself and talked through all the stained-glass windows, which are varied and great. Given my son's age and artistic interests, that's worth more than any mass. The Cathedral has a little gift shop in it. Liam insisted on getting a tiny and very tacky framed picture of St. Francis, which he insists is beautiful.

The homily at Holy Ghost Catholic Church, Denver was about the sacrament of confirmation, and the connection between the priesthood and confirmation because of the sacred chrism oil used, and I'm sure I've forgotten something else important, but it was very interesting to me. I seldom hear a homily about this sacrament.

I went to Mass at my sister's church and we arrived during what I thought was the first hymn, sung quite dolorously. But we moved right into the Collect. I turned to my sister, shocked - "That was the Gloria??!!"

Large, beautiful old church, sparsely populated, and the list of deaths that week was unusually long. An aging parish, and a consolidation of what were once three large and vital parishes.

My sister and her parish have done an exceptional job though of keeping her children in the faith. Her retention rate is 133% as her SIL is a recent convert.

126

My conscious bothers me about your final comment. My rejection of the Church has had the effect of raising my children without Faith. I'm trying to make amends in a non threatening or zealous way, but by example. But I am grievously inflicted by guilt on this matter.

I have to think that everyone's timing on this is God directed. My children were adolescents before my re-conversion, and though they valued the changes in my behaviors, it was too late to start over with them. I hover like a distraught mother hen about their lack of faith, but I realize that their voyages back will likely be long and full of sorrow, like mine.
I may not see it in my lifetime; perhaps it will even need my death before they wake up to spiritual need. And I reluctantly accept that.

The interesting thing is that they both requested and received Baptism when they were children. So their entry into the Church was voluntary.

Meanwhile we parents do what we can in the realm of prayer.

128

*sigh* I suppose that we all come home to what we consider home some day and whether that is in communion with God is only in our own hands.

Since it is God's will that we all come to Him,

"Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven" becomes more potent.

Yesterday my wife and I drove in two 4WD cars with a motley collection of priests, nuns and brothers (including the Superior General of a local order of teaching brothers and the Provincial Superior of a European missionary order) to celebrate the Golden Jubilee of the priesthood of one of our retired bishops, in his home village. We followed South Sudan's only tarmac road for a couple of hours, then turned off on a bumpy dirt road for the last 45 minutes or so.

It's coming to the end of the rainy season now, so everything was fresh and green. Arriving visitors were met by smartly turned out girls from the local secondary school who acted as ushers. Traffic police were there to control parking. Entrepreneurs had set up tea and snack stalls nearby, so we were able to relax before mass with strong sweet tea, boiled groundnuts (much nicer than roasted!) and liggamat (mandazi in Kiswahili - a sort of doughnut). Fresh pit latrines had been dug on the outskirts of the compound for the guests to use.

The mass took place under a newly-erected steel framework with a corrugated iron roof, which will eventually become a new church. Plastic chairs had been begged, borrowed and hired from all around. Several thousand people attended, including government officials, foreign ambassadors and diplomats, aid workers, the UN, protestant bishops and pastors, the local Madi community, and many of the bishop's friends and benefactors from all over the world. He himself is an iconic figure in South Sudan. He lives and breathes peace and reconciliation, and his own life has been an inspiration to many.

The mass was in English. Singing was a mixture of Latin, Arabic, Swahili and Madi. The choir was really superb, accompanied by local stringed and wind instruments (including something very much like a vuvusela except that it is blown through a hole in the side rather than the end) as well as drums and the now ubiquitous electronic keyboard. Women ululated and men shouted out exclamations in the local Madi language. The gospel book was brought in procession in a small thatched house carried on poles by four youths. There was plenty of liturgical dance, including an incursion by Madi warriors as part of the offertory procession. They were the only people who managed to push back the TV cameras, which were quite intrusive. The bishop was resplendent in a purple biretta, which made us all smile as he is normally very humble and retiring. When I teased him about it he laughed and said he had never worn it since it was given to him in Rome so he thought it was due an outing. His homily was very short (as he said he would have plenty of chance to talk during the speeches after mass) so the whole mass was over in just three hours.

After mass there was lunch. We all queued up in the open air to fill our plates with ugali, kaloo, rice, bread, various types of fresh and dried meat stews, fried chicken, fish stew, green vegetables in groundnut sauce, etc, all eaten with the fingers, of course. We then left just as the four-hour programme of speeches and entertainment was beginning, so that we could get back to Juba before dark (tarmac roads are very dangerous as people drive so fast; we passed the spot where around sixty people died last week when a bus hit a lorry). It was a long day, from 6 am to 6 pm, but very enjoyable.

Edited to add: The bishop did tell one little story which grabbed everyone's attention. A king had a dream that he died and went to heaven, but found that the religious leaders had all gone to hell. He was troubled by the dream so he sought out a wise man to interpret it. The sage told him, "The king went to heaven because he respected the religious leaders. The religious leaders went to hell because they compromised with the king!" Food for thought!

Christ the King. We had heavy tropical rain this morning. It moderated to a steady slightly-less-heavy rain shortly before mass started, but still the congregation was smaller than usual. The church is still being renovated but the floor now has a nice finish to it, the lights and fans are working, the plaster on the walls and ceilings has been painted white, so I think it's getting close to the end. The sound system wasn't working today but that's usually a blessing in disguise - no screeching feedback, no repeated banging on the mike to see if it's switched on, no excessive and distorted volume.

The mass at St Michael's is very popular with the international community. The main presider is usually a Philippino missionary priest, and people from many countries in several continents can be seen there - aid workers, UN peace-keepers, religious brothers and sisters, traders and other businesspeople, contractors, diplomats, etc.

Over the last few weeks the Kenyan community has taken the lead. We have liturgical dance in the various processions, including the procession with the gospel book. During the offertory procession they bring gifts to the altar, both traditional stuff (long stalks of sugar cane, maize, fruit and vegetables) and more modern things (bottled water, soda, even toilet paper) - all the things which the parish might need. A few of them had donned Masai blankets to give a Kenyan feel to the proceedings, and they led the singing of songs in Kiswahili (a language which is increasingly understood in Juba due to the large number of east African traders, businesspeople and aid workers, plus the return of South Sudanese who were formerly refugees in Kenya and Uganda). One of our South Sudanese matrons who always sits in the front row ululates exceptionally loudly, and she leads the ladies in accompanying any hymn in any language with this strident sound.

The priest didn't go around shaking hands with people at the sign of peace, perhaps due to fears of Ebola and Marburg, but I noticed that most of the people did shake hands.

And the whole mass was still over in less than two hours.

After going to St Michael's for several years, we recently changed and started going to the chapel belonging to the Comboni missionaries. A year or so ago we moved into an apartment in my wife's NGO's compound (she's the country director of one of the Caritas agencies) and the Comboni chapel is not much more than a hundred metres away, so it eventually dawned on us that it makes no sense driving to St Michael's when we can walk to Comboni.

It has other advantages. The mass is at 8.30 am, which is more convenient for us than 10 am. It is also much shorter. There's a mixed congregation of 50 or 60 people, so things like the offertory collection, sign of peace and communion take much less time than in a parish mass of several hundred people. Because it is not a parish, there are no announcements after communion - in most parishes these take an inordinate length of time as there are no parish bulletins or newsletters so every detail has to be read out, sometimes in two languages. There is much less singing, which suits me as at my time of life I have come to value silent periods in the mass. Above all, the homilies are short. Last week's, from a Mexican priest, was only eight minutes, and this morning's, from an Italian priest, only six, but both were excellent expositions of the scripture readings with a message that you could remember and take away with you. At St Michael's our Philippino priest often preached for the best part of half an hour. So now I leave home a little before 8.30 and get home around 9.30; before I would leave home around 9.30 and get home some time after midday.

The other advantage for me is that many of the church personnel from other parts of the country come to this mass when they pass through Juba, so it's a good opportunity for me to chat to them after mass and catch up on the news. Last week an Ethiopian lady who attends the mass regularly brought a flask of tea and some freshly-baked bread rolls for us all to share afterwards while chatting, which was an added bonus. Sadly she wasn't here today!

>131 John5918: what was the bishop's name? Quite a few years ago I met Bishop Macram Gassis, and I wondered...

I love reading your Mass stories. I feel quite weak at the thought of a Mass that is "just" three hours long.

It was Bishop Emeritus Paride Taban. But I know Bishop Emeritus Macram Max Gassis well and see him from time to time.

Wow - neat! Are you in Sudan right now?

South Sudan?

I'm just taking a short break but I'll be back there in a week or so. I might see +Macram next week on my way back, as he is in Nairobi, and I hope to spend time at +Paride's peace village in the second half of March as he wants me to facilitate a meeting for him.

When he was in Denver, he gave my son a blessing. I know I'll never forget it, or him. What is Bishop Paride's peace village like?

>139 SaintSunniva: I didn't get to the peace village in March as the meeting was postponed. But I did get to have lunch with +Paride in Juba. It's always great to chat to him. His peace village is two days drive from Juba, in the far south easterly corner of South Sudan, inaccessible by land for about half of the year. A number of tribes in the area, including Murle, Toposa and Jie, have traditionally feuded over cattle, but +Paride gained their trust and brought peace to the area. Now they live peacefully, and the village acts as focus for peacebuilding activities. It has a clinic, a primary school, a guinea worm eradication project (implemented by the Carter Centre), a vocational training centre, a youth centre, an agricultural project, a bridge across the river, an internet cafe, a community policing project and much more. It's a restful and peaceful place to visit.

Easter Sunday mass. I was in a small and isolated village called Lafon. It took us seven hours to get there on Good Friday, covering 120 km of bush track in a rainstorm. Our two cars got stuck twice but we were able to pull each other out. We also had a puncture, and had to pull out someone else's car too.

The old mission in Lafon is derelict, having been heavily bombed and shelled. The walls and half the roof of the church are still standing but it has huge cracks and is pretty precarious, so mass takes place under a large tree. The remains of the sisters' house are still standing, similarly damaged, but the priests' house and the primary school were dismantled by Khartoum's soldiers during the last civil war and were used to build a mosque. When independence came to South Sudan, the mosque was quickly dismantled by the local people, as there are no Muslims in the village. Trenches and foxholes can still be seen all around the mission, as there was heavy fighting in the area. A burned out armoured car sits nearby, and bits of shrapnel are lying around. Two deep wells which used to serve the community have now been filled in after so many bodies were dumped into them.

We met the priest on Saturday morning. He and I knew each other vaguely - I know most of the priests in South Sudan, and indeed I taught many of them. He had driven from the diocesan headquarters in Torit on a road that wasn't much better than the one we used, and had also got stuck. The rains have only just started, but he reckons that if they continue without a break then this will be the last mass in Lafon for several months.

Easter Sunday Mass was due to start at 9 am but he told us in advance that it would basically start when the people were ready. We pitched up at 10 am and it actually started nearer to 11. The people sat on crude pews made of tree branches - forked ones stuck into the ground with longer straighter ones balancing horizontally on the forks - very common in South Sudan, as are pews just made of dried mud. There were some plastic chairs for local government officials, elders and visitors. There were maybe a hundred or so people. The paschal candle had a cut-down plastic water bottle jammed on the top to stop the wind from blowing it out. At one point the plastic started smouldering and produced black smoke, but a smartly-dressed altar boy sorted that out. The candle was stuck into a cooking oil can which still bore USAID markings.

The mass was in English, as were the first two readings, as the missal and most of the bible have never been translated into the Pari language (part of the Luo family), but the gospel was read in both Pari and English as the gospels have been translated. The homily (only 16 minutes and rather good) was in both languages, and the priest spoke in Pari at various points in the mass to keep people on board. Singing was in a variety of languages, accompanied by traditional drums, rattles made out of flattened cooking oil cans filled with dried seeds or beans, and a chime thingie which looked suspiciously like parts from an old car engine.

The whole mass was over in two hours, including a few words from the catechist, the head of the parish council and the local government administrator. We were warmly welcomed - they don't often have visitors there. After mass the priest went off on foot to visit his relatives in the bush and we went back to the camp where we were staying.

We had gone there with some wildlife conservation people to have a look at the wildlife. Most of the bigger stuff has been massacred with machine guns during successive wars and any survivors have moved deep into inaccessible parts of the bush. But we saw a lot of smaller antelopes and other animals, and really rich bird life; in fact in my thirty-odd years here I've never seen so many animals before. We heard lion coughing during the night, and one of our colleagues came across a lion chasing people away from a water point on our first evening there. While we were there we climbed the local hill, with huge rounded boulders.

On Easter Monday we took a different, much longer but slightly better route home via Torit and Magwi, again in heavy rain (which had held off for us on Saturday and Sunday), and covered over 300 km in ten hours, again getting stuck in the mud a couple of times, having a puncture and pulling another motorist out of the mud as well. In Torit we met a car with priests on their way back from another isolated parish.

A nice way to spend Easter, and once again mass is definitely not boring!

I'm in a very odd spot. We decided to go to Easter in Kos, Greece. Izmir and Istanbul are just too far. But the church in Greece, including the Latin Rite, follows the Orthodox calendar. (I would not have thought that was possible in the Latin Rite, but apparently it is.) So Easter is THIS weekend. This meant that, although Liam and I did the USCCB readings, pray and read a saint's life on Sunday, I was basically sunbathing on a beach in Turkey while everyone else, from my friends in Portland to the Pope, were celebrating Easter. That felt rather peculiar, I have to say. It felt like moral relativism, although it was merely calendrical relativism.

Update! I just received word from the priest that MOST of the Latin-Rite Catholic Church in Greece are on the Orthodox calendar, and have been so for 45 years, but that Kos is a pastoral exception, and Easter there has already happened. We were in the middle of booking the trip when I noticed the flyer the priest sent me disagreed with his email! (Liam was originally going to be confirmed in Kos, but the whole thing just got insanely complicated and second-world crazy and this would have added another oddness.) So now we're heading to Rhodes instead, I think. If the buses and boat times don't work out, we'll take a tiny boat over to Kastellorizo, the farthest-west Greek Island, which lies literally in the harbor of my Turkish town, Kaş, for Orthodox Easter. Even without the eucharist, I'd love it, but I think my wife and son wouldn't appreciate standing-room-only in a tiny church for two hours in a foreign language.

>142 timspalding: Happened to me thirty-odd years ago in Cairo where the Latin Rite were following an Orthodox calendar. I missed the Latin Easter there and had left Cairo for Khartoum before the Orthodox Easter, so no Easter for me at all that year.

Mind you we missed Pentecost one year in an isolated outstation chapel in South Sudan because the priest and the catechist disagreed about whether it was indeed Pentecost Sunday or not, and there was no way of checking independently. The priest won the discussion and we had the readings of a normal Sunday, but the catechist turned out to have been right.

>142 timspalding:, >143 John5918: I feel like I'm in a bar in an anti-Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy world avidly overhearing you two!...have nothing to compare to that..we went to our local pretty Catholic church. Despite the best of intentions to get there early enough to get to sit together, we were almost late for the 9:30a.m. Mass on Easter. I sat by myself in the third row; my husband and older daughter stood in the back. Two other of our adult kids were elsewhere in the pews. The celebrant, a retired Jesuit high school biology teacher pretty much broke all the rules mentioned in the recent article, http://www.rappler.com/nation/88758-bishop-warning-homily-abuse. Our take-away from his homily was a rather memorable joke. An electrician was hired to rewire the confessional....

As I sat there, though, peacefully absorbing the beauty, listening to the earnest loud perfect recitation of all the prayers and responses from the man next to me, who comes with his mother, I also kept in mind the churches such as you describe...bombed out wrecks; Christians murdered for their faith.

>144 SaintSunniva: I feel like I'm in a bar in an anti-Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy world

I did have a towel with me!

Admission: I didn't like that book.

Admission: I enjoyed the movie, even while feeling bummed at how hopeless it all was.

I totally don't remember it very well, though. What's this about a towel?

>148 SaintSunniva: One of the essentials that you have to carry with you when hitch-hiking through the galaxy, if remember correctly. It's years since I read it, so I don't recall all the details.

We had a 3-4 hour service starting with the blessing of the Fire, The Blessing of the Candles, Baptismal Font, The Readings of the Prophesies and then Midnight Mass. All followed by a nice feast :-)

Beautiful.

Thank God.

>151 LesMiserables:

Are you back in Brisbane, or somewhere overseas these days?

>151 LesMiserables: I love the full Easter Vigil service. I've participated in some really beautiful ones over the years. One of my favourite parts is the singing of the Exsultet.

152, 153

Brissie, yes. Never experienced MM at Easter before. It was very special.

>154 LesMiserables:

Good to hear. Maybe there be many more!

A complete contrast this Sunday. Back in Juba, and we went to mass at the Comboni missionary chapel as we usually do. The presider was a dear old Italian missionary, and one of our elder South Sudanese priests concelebrated.

We had the sprinkling rite instead of the penitential rite, and the renewal of baptismal promises instead of the creed. As an aside, the priest mentioned that in the rural villages he would additionally ask people whether they renounce the kujur (loosely translated as witch doctor), but he didn't think it would be necessary to do so with the present congregation. This mass is attended by South Sudanese, other Africans, Europeans, Asians, Aussies and Kiwis, and north Americans; all educated and literate, all speakers of English even if only as their third or fourth language; missionaries, priests, sisters, brothers, aid workers, diplomats, business people and all manner of others.

We got a good introduction from the priest on the jubliee year of mercy. The homily was less than ten minutes and was spoken from the heart. As usual there was a tad too much singing for my taste, led by a delightful Kenyan nun, but all over Africa singing is generally valued more than silence in the liturgy.

An irreverent thought struck me as I watched the hand-held microphone being passed from hand to hand for readings and things, and the battery-powered amplifier/speaker being shifted around from the altar to the lectern and back. It reminded me of all the logistics which we loved so much as wee altar boys during the old Latin mass, a carefully choreographed dance involving candles, thurible, altar missal and book stand, chalice cover, humeral veil, etc. I do sometimes yearn for the days when people were taught to project their voices instead of relying on PA systems.

After our mass was finished, the chapel was used by the Eritreans for their Easter Sunday mass.

156 It reminded me of all the logistics which we loved so much as wee altar boys during the old Latin mass, a carefully choreographed dance involving candles, thurible, altar missal and book stand, chalice cover, humeral veil, etc. I do sometimes yearn for the days when people were taught to project their voices instead of relying on PA systems.

Well, there is a cure for that John! :-) And of course the incense to go with the thurible. All go together to show reverence to Our Lord present on the altar.

>157 LesMiserables: Yes, I love the smell of incense, which we still have on Sundays in most of our larger and more established parishes. But to be honest, I think the marching backwards and forwards with book stands and things had more to do with logistics than reverence. I find more reverence in a simple and uncluttered liturgy.

Having been told to go to Rhodes for Easter, not Kos, we dutifully went to Marmaris to catch a ferry in the morning. Guess what? Ferry cancelled by rough seas!

So we zipped to the bus station again and caught a bus to Bodrum (two hours away), where they have a daily ferry to Kos. If we couldn't have Easter in a Catholic church, at least we'd have a mass. We spent the rest of the day in Bodrum(1), then caught the ferry to Kos Sunday morning.

Upon arrival we hit an Orthodox procession. We followed it all the way to the central church, and attended half of an Orthodox mass. (A full mass, standing and in a foreign language was a bit beyond my son and wife's stamina.) At least one reading was repeated in English and even Latin, which struck me. Does anyone know: Is this a standard Easter feature? It was unreal hearing accented Latin in an Orthodox church.

Later that afternoon Liam and I went off to the Catholic church here—a tiny chapel in the Italian cemetery, maintained by the Franciscans. The website said clearly there was mass at 6:00 and… it was closed! No mass. So I learned—again—that you should never trust a church website, even a really nice one that seems well-maintained.

So no Catholic Easter for us. And no Catholic mass at all.

Anyway, Liam and I prayed for a while at the gate. As Liam put it, although we couldn't go to church, our hearts could.

Liam was thrilled in any case to be at (or at the gates of) a Franciscan church. He connects with Francis' love of animals. And as chance or fate would have it, immediately after we said our prayers, Liam and I were tackled by two puppies. They were probably street puppies, but Liam is convinced they belong to the Franciscan priest, which makes a certain sort of sense. It was ridiculously cute.

After that we wandered in the adjoining Greek cemetery. I'd never seen a "modern" one. Every tomb had flowers, a lit slow-burning lamp and a marble-and-glass box with some small personal effects—icons, family photos, trinkets, even a comb. I presume the lamp is an Easter thing, but the whole assemblage was remarkable, as was the sheer religiosity of the place. Liam and I undertook a corporal act of mercy cleaning up the graveyard of refuse and restoring flowers and other things that had fallen over in the wind.

So, an odd, disappointing but not entirely unsatisfying Easter.

---

1. I lived there for six months, assisting in the Underwater Archaeology Museum. It was great to show my family around. The city sports an extraordinary castle built by the Knights of St. John.

the priest mentioned that in the rural villages he would additionally ask people whether they renounce the kujur

Excellent.

I do sometimes yearn for the days when people were taught to project their voices instead of relying on PA systems.

I completely agree. Churches were designed to be used without amplification—although I suspect you might need to remove carpets from a lot of them, if you wanted the full effect again.

It would be one thing if the amplification were done right, but too often it isn't. Our church in Portland has speakers that make all sorts of distracting squawks, wah-wah-wahs and whistles. The speakers look about 50 years old.

I don't get a vote, but I feel the same way about the aesthetics of mosques in Turkey. Back in the day, someone actually ascended the minaret and belted out the call to prayer. Now you get a canned recording, often from a dial-up line—you can hear a few telephone tones at the end as it disconnects—blared out at ear-spliting volume.

After our mass was finished, the chapel was used by the Eritreans for their Easter Sunday mass.

Eritrean Catholics, or do you share space with the Monophysite Eritreans?

>160 timspalding: Eritrean Catholics, or do you share space with the Monophysite Eritreans?

No idea, to be honest. But they celebrated Easter yesterday.

>156 John5918: "An irreverent thought struck me as I watched the hand-held microphone being passed from hand to hand for readings and things, and the battery-powered amplifier/speaker being shifted around from the altar to the lectern and back. It reminded me of all the logistics which we loved so much as wee altar boys during the old Latin mass, a carefully choreographed dance involving candles, thurible, altar missal and book stand, chalice cover, humeral veil, etc."

Yes, but did they follow proper procedure with each hand-off of the microphone (kiss the object, then the hand of the person from which you are receiving it)?

The priest is Nigerian, and congregants are Mohawk--Mass as celebrated on banks of St. Kateri's St. Lawrence River sounds anything but boring!

Where Sunday Mass is in Mohawk
http://narrative.ly/personal-jesus/where-sunday-mass-is-in-mohawk/

>163 margd: I met a Nigerian priest in Geraldton diocese in Australia when I was doing a speaking tour there about ten years ago. He was in an isolated outback parish, and he was so happy to meet someone who lived in Africa (even though I have never been to west Africa) that he didn't want to let me go. My minders were trying to hurry me away to my next engagement a hundred km or so away, and he kept insisting that I have another cup of tea and talk some more about African food.

Our last parish associate pastor is Nigerian, and I've sampled his goat dish and a couple of other hot HOT foods.

The priest in Istanbul was African—I'm not sure from where, but my guess is Nigeria. The congregation was also half Africans, so it made a lot of sense.

My favourite parish in our university town usually has visiting associate pastors--e.g., from Lebanon, Fiji, Ireland, Africa (not sure where), and most recently, an Asian Indian, whose English was so impenetrable for many that paper versions of his sermon were distributed so we could read along. Traditions of the equally diverse congregation are honored. In living Nativity, principals are frequently non-Caucasian. The best-ever, holiday potluck included traditional specialties from various nations. (I took Thai shrimp-corn pancakes in honour of my kids, which, though clearly labeled "SPICY", had our US pastor, normally an aficionado of Italian food, running for water!)

The RC Church is truly universal.

>159 timspalding: At least one reading was repeated in English and even Latin, which struck me. Does anyone know: Is this a standard Easter feature? It was unreal hearing accented Latin in an Orthodox church.

In most of the Orthodox churches I've attended in the US, that's standard in the Agape Vespers, which is the service after the big Paschal Liturgy. At Agape Vespers, the Gospel is read in as many languages as are represented in the congregation -- this year at the church I attended we had English, Greek, Arabic, Serbian, Romanian, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Macedonian, German, French, and Latin.

Also, in some US Orthodox churches I've attended with large ethnic populations, it's common to always do the readings in both English and Arabic, or English and Greek, or whatever. But I've no idea whether doing the readings in Latin is common in Greece! I'm guessing it was a courtesy for Pascha, with many visitors expected.

I met His Holiness Abune Matthias, Patriarch of Ethiopia, Archbishop of Axum and Echegue of the See of St Teklehaimanot (what's an echeque?) in Addis Ababa yesterday when he came to lend his support to a meeting between the South Sudan Council of Churches and the World Council of Churches to discuss peace in South Sudan. Cardinal Berhaneyesus was also present - I have met him a couple of times previously, before he was made cardinal, when he visited South Sudan in his AMECEA role.

It was a strange experience for me to be in an African country which has an unbroken Christian tradition of more than 1,500 years. Our meetings were at the Patriarchate and we also got a guided tour of their museum. Impressive. But we didn't manage to attend any of their liturgies.

This morning we had an Italian theology professor who is basically a one-man show acting as presider, narrator, choirmaster, cantor, homilist, just about everything. His homily was very theoretical and I can't remember what it was about*, but at least it was only 12 minutes long. He wears a toupee, which is irrelevant except that it is very distracting. The good thing is that he has a very loud voice and he didn't use that bloody PA system.

* The only bit I remember (and that only because he repeated it again later in the mass) is that Christ didn't actually rise on the third day; the three is symbolic and we don't know exactly when he rose. Of what spiritual or practical use that little nugget of information is I'm not sure.

>167 margd: "...whose English was so impenetrable..." I commend you on a perfect, yet charitably put, phrase!
>154 LesMiserables: your theology professor...is there something in Inferno about him, I wonder?

And we're off to our Shrine parish, where we always hope we have our wonderful Polish pastor...but often have a retired Jesuit who generally starts with a long-winded story, complete with punchline that generates laughter. Somehow it ties in to the gospel.

>170 John5918:

Sorry, but he sounds like a tool. There's no good reason to question the three-day narrative. Just because the three has "meaning" doesn't mean he didn't rise in three days. (I can think of a number of "meanings" that would apply to four days too, fwiw.) I suppose it might be some sort of theologoumenon, but it's not a simple or easy case to make, nor something one needs to hammer away at in homilies!

>172 timspalding:

Yeah, that is an odd one to be pushing. I mean, it is not one of the things we sometimes think is in the gospel, but the text is actual silent on (i.e. ox and donkey at the Naivety etc).

And all of the gospels are full of stuff which is explicitly trying to fulfil some OT prophecy or another. So if the gospels contain any factual basis, you have to conclude lots of things were done / happen in order to satisfy OT prophecy and meaning.

Otherwise you are left with the whole thing being basically a Midrash on the OT (which is what some people / scholars who think Jesus was mythical propose).

>172 timspalding:, >173 hf22:

Yes, he's generally acknowledged to be a bit eccentric. And as hf22 says, it's an odd point to be pushing at mass, whether or not there is any basis to it.

It raises an interesting question about when (and when not) to bring critical-historical points into homilies. My feeling is that you bring them in when the literalist view is untenable to moderns, either generally or because the critical-historical angle is well known. In such cases, literalism is nothing but a drag on belief. Otherwise, though, I don't really see the point.

>175 timspalding:

I have been thinking about this for a while.

Firstly, I would not want to oppose "literalist" with "critical-historical". The Church Fathers were anything but strictly literalist, but they were clearly not doing "critical-historical" analysis.

Secondly, I would say a great deal of "critical-historical" is either based on assumptions which have no place at Mass (i.e. if it is supernatural it did not happen), or pointlessly speculative (i.e. 15 different reconstructions of a text's autograph, for which we have no reasonable way of judging between). Not to mention plain wrong (c/f the recent collapse in the 100 year critical-historical consensus around the existence of the Q Gospel source).

So unless a "critical-historical" point was accepted by a large consensus of scholars, theologians and the Church, I think the answer would be very rarely, unless it was being given as a possibility rather than a fact.

recent collapse in the 100 year critical-historical consensus around the existence of the Q Gospel source

I'd like to see evidence of that collapse. You got a recent article to point to or something? Certainly, if someone claims it has collapsed, that opinion has not yet gained wide acceptance.

Nor will it, I wager. The evidence is really quite strong. Indeed, that Luke and Matthew used Mark, and that they used a common something, is the sort of finding that, if we were talking about "regular" Classical Philology, would scarcely be doubted. These are, after all, late-Hellenistic/early Imperial Greek texts, of which we have an absolute ton, and which undergo source criticism regularly and to great advantage. The evidence of the useful of the method is without doubt, but has in any case been proven true from subsequent discoveries many times. But New Testament texts often get special treatment—sometimes more "skeptical," sometimes less—either because of disciplinary walls or for religious, not scholarly, reasons.

The Church Fathers were anything but strictly literalist, but they were clearly not doing "critical-historical" analysis.

Right. And what are the consequences? When an early Church Father reads a straightforward text allegorically, in a way that utterly confounds(1) any plain meaning, what do we, as Catholics, say of it? I think we are to say they're reading it in a way consonant with church teaching, and to which a Catholic may draw much, but, bluntly, that we can't agree that they were "right."

That, and, again bluntly, we should take away that literalism is unnecessary. We cannot say that the Fathers could licitly subvert the clear meaning of texts in the service of a good message, but that scholarship must avoid investigations to uncover the more mundane truth.

Secondly, I would say a great deal of "critical-historical" is either based on assumptions which have no place at Mass (i.e. if it is supernatural it did not happen)

Right, I think. I think historical criticism falters if it starts with "if it is supernatural it did not happen," but, when doing it, one should confine oneself to questions of "what can I say using the methods of ordinary historical analysis?" This necessarily precludes answering certain faith questions. We cannot, for example, say that Jesus was the son of God from a historical-critical analysis of the Gospels, anymore than we can conclude that Alexander was the son of Zeus. Nor, however, should we deny it. We should recognize the limits of the tool.

I do think, however, that one may--in faith--recognize that certain stories are "there" because of what they say, not what they are. This is a tricky thing to bring up at mass, because it opens up a can of worms. Now, I believe that they are tame worms. But mass ins't the time--nor does it have the time--to demonstrate that.

or pointlessly speculative (i.e. 15 different reconstructions of a text's autograph, for which we have no reasonable way of judging between).

This is ignorant. Like cladistics used in historical linguistics and evolutionary biology, textual criticism is a real thing, with real and true results. Time and again it has been proven to "work," including many instances of a lost, far older version of a text being found which reads the way scholars thought it should. Of course, textual-critical judgments come with confidence-percents. But the presence of differences of opinion, and of alternatives, do not invalidate textual criticism any more than disputes among biologists invalidates evolutionary biology.

1. I need to turn off my autocorrect. It corrects errors silently and well, but it can also correct errors into nonsense. Originally this said "compounds" not "confounds."

>177 timspalding: I'm also quite surprised to hear that Q has "collapsed". I thought it was very well-established and widely accepted outside the more extreme bible literalist protestants.

>177 timspalding:

It has a scholarly alternate in Augustine's hypothesis, that Mark copied from Matthew and Luke from both. But the textual evidence is much stronger in the other direction. And, FWIW, the non-scholarly types who usually assail the Q hypothesis are as uncomfortable with that sort of source relationship as any other. They want four eye-witness stenographers.

Incidentally, as an example of the sort of thing you CAN get into, I'd say that no contemporary priest should say or imply that the Gospels were written by eyewitnesses name "Matthew," "Mark," "Luke" and "John." I don't think you need to constantly insert "well, we don't really know who wrote it" or "the author may have drawn on eyewitnesses but was probably not one himself," but lying is a sin.

>177 timspalding:, >178 John5918:

I am in a rush, so I will come back on the rest, but the work of Mark Goodacre in The Case Against Q: Studies in Markan Priority and the Synoptic Problem has basically killed the Q hypothesis.

Here (http://historicaljesusresearch.blogspot.com.au/2014/01/is-mark-goodacre-still-in-minority-on.html) and here (http://historicaljesusresearch.blogspot.com.au/2014/01/q-survives-near-fatal-attack-from.html) shows some other scholars conceding there is now no consensus on Q.

If you read another other scholarly blogs on the issue, you will also see this is the case. Basically, the main reason to still support Q is on the basis of some ideas regarding Luke's editorial preferences, which is not really a very strong reason.

If you think Q still has wide scholarly consensus, you are just out of date, and need to do some catching up. This is not a faith based objection - The scholars are in the main dropping the idea as dated and unneeded.

Which is just another reason why priest should not do "critical-historical" analysis. It takes a long of effort to keep up, and they are unlikely to be current.

>180 hf22:

Look, if you want to argue that he's right, I suppose we could. It would take me a long time to get "up" on the topic, even to the level I was once at. I'd certainly have to review all the evidence in Greek, which would take a while. Do you have it at your fingertips already?

But if you want to argue people believe he's demolished it, that can be answered by looking at the reaction to his book. A quick look at the reviews he got in scholarly journals indicates he did not persuade.

Frankly, I'm disinclined to get too deep into this. I believe in knowing somethings to the fingernails and other things by knowing the metaknowledge. Fingernails is more than I want do right now. But the latter seems clear—Q is still the dominant paradigm.

If you think Q still has wide scholarly consensus, you are just out of date, and need to do some catching up. This is not a faith based objection.

Look, I can use Google Scholar just as well as anyone, and if you do that, you'll see that mentions of the topic continue to put Q and the two-source hypothesis as the dominant paradigm. Take, for example, the recent (2015) survey, Introducing the New Testament by Henry Wansbrough.

""Since it was proposed by C. Lachmann in 1835 this theory has won overwhelming acceptance at least as a working hypothesis. It still holds the dominant position in New Testament scholarship."

Google link here: https://www.google.com.tr/books?id=y3AeBQAAQBAJ&lpg=PP1&ots=vXN-Q4U-A4&a...

The scholars are in the main dropping the idea as dated and unneeded

Find me a scholarly source—a journal or monograph—that asserts this.

Basically, the main reason to still support Q is on the basis of some ideas regarding Luke's editorial preferences, which is not really a very strong reason.

Well, I know enough to say that's a pretty poor summary of the case!

Which is just another reason why priest should not do "critical-historical" analysis. It takes a long of effort to keep up, and they are unlikely to be current.

I can't see that a priest would every need to mention Q in a homily, let alone get into the deeper and more speculative questions of just what Q was all about. But there are occasions when it's useful to point out that the Gospels are not stenography, that their authors have strong (and not always agreeing) opinions and reworked stories they had heard or read to bring out those opinions, etc. Parishioners need to understand that Catholics are not at war with Biblical scholarship, but welcome light on these texts.

The alternative is to leave parishioners thinking Catholics support literalism—the default position for most people in the US—and oppose scholarship. And someone who believes that is going to see their faith crumble when they run across some piece by Ehrman. If, however, they understand that Catholics support critical scholarship, and are indeed leaders in the field, they won't be presented with a choice between reason and faith.

Keeping up is hard, but we can cut corners by learning from others. A priest need not be reading German journals, but he can read a recent survey. Similarly, it is not necessary for a priest to have read all the latest literature about contemporary porn addiction, but it would be foolish for him to wave is hand at all that modern stuff, and recommend parishioners stop buying tickets to dirty movies.

>181 timspalding:

I have a list of links to scholars reactions at home, including why Luke's editorial preferences is the main remaining reason to accept Q. I will post them later after work.

I don't expect you to get across this detail, because that is a large time investment, but I can get you up to speed on the metaknowledge.

But suffice to say, from the various scholarly discussions online, Q is no longer dominant and is quickly ceasing to be preferred. There remain scholars who do prefer it, but amongst those have a focus on the Synoptic Problem, it seems to me that now generally accept Q is no longer necessary to explain the Synoptic Problem. And once it is no longer necessary, it becomes really hard to posit a hypothetical gospel, due to parsimony etc.

The paradigm has changed. Basic text books have only started to catch up, but the scholarly conversation has moved on. Indeed, speaking to some in the trade, there is some embarrassment Q held on as a theory for as long as it did.

There is also some spring cleaning going on in relation to the whole "quest for the historical Jesus", with the Criteria of Authenticity also being on their way out, as basically being unable to do the job they were created for. That is, "critical-historical" methods can't really tell much about which parts of the NT picture of Jesus are true or not, which is why we get so many different "critical-historical" pictures. The movement is towards having more acknowledgements of what are the limitations of our methods.

>179 timspalding:

I'd say that no contemporary priest should say or imply that the Gospels were written by eyewitnesses name "Matthew," "Mark," "Luke" and "John."

Wait, what? The author of Luke specifically notes he is not an eye witness, but is instead putting together the various sources he has available to him, as we know he did (particularly Mark and Matthew). And the traditional identification is with the doctor whom accompanies Paul, who again would not be an eye witness to the events of the Gospel.

So we don't need "critical-historical" to know the Gospels were not written by eye witnesses.

>182 hf22:

Ok, so I can't find the document list I had. Must be on one of my spare hard drives, together with some of the conference papers on the question people have send me over the last few years. I will post it when I find it.

But in the meantime the links at >180 hf22: to the blog of James Crossley, Chris Keith and Anthony Le Donne, all significant NT scholars in their own right, give a reasonable take on the current scholarly position which has been current for the last few years (i.e. while Mark Goodacre's book was published in 2002, it has really only been fully digested and publically endorsed by the scholarly community in the last 3 or 4 years).

My wife and I proclaimed the readings this morning - we were waylaid as we entered by the nun who organises such things.

I was struck by one thing the presiding priest, a youngish missionary from Latin America, said in his homily: "Faith is what gives meaning to our lives". I reflected on some recent conversations in this Catholic Tradition group on LT where we have got bogged down in examining in a very legalistic way the fine print of doctrine. I think we risk not seeing the wood for the trees, not seeing the spirit of the law but focusing on the letter of the law. Faith is not merely assent to a series of intellectual assertions; it is what gives meaning to our lives. It is particularly poignant in a context where many of the congregation are local church personnel and missionaries who regularly put their lives on the line for their faith, and where the concrete context of civil war and suffering was with us throughout the mass - in the homily, in the prayers of the faithful, in the congregation joining the presider in saying together the prayer for peace after the Lord's Prayer.

There are a number of Eritreans in the congregation, and it was touching that at the end of mass there was a second collection to help them build a church in their community back home in Eritrea. One of the poorest churches in the world assisting another of the poorest churches in the world.

We all got given a free pocket-sized book containing the four gospels. The Daughters of St Paul, well known for their ministry of communication, who run the Catholic bookshop in Juba as well as a publishing house in Nairobi, have just celebrated their centenary and they have published this free gospel book as part of their centenary celebrations. They are the ones who published my recent book, and it really is a pleasure working with them. It's a congregation with a large number of assertive, bright and highly-educated young sisters.

185

You published? What?

>186 LesMiserables:

The Voice of the Voiceless: The Role of the Church in the Sudanese Civil War 1983-2005, Paulines Publications Africa, 2014.

Last week I was doing some work in Holy Trinity Peace Village, founded by one of our retired Catholic bishops in an extremely remote part of South Sudan, near the Ethiopian and Kenyan borders. It's two days travel by land (if you're lucky) or 90 minutes by small plane (which is how we travelled). The people there have been largely untouched by "civilisation" or development, and there is virtually no government presence in the area. There are several communities who have traditionally fought each other, particularly over cattle. Now it is a little oasis of peace in a country torn by conflict. The bishop has brought a school, a clinic, an agricultural project, a youth centre, a vocational training school, a bridge, an airstrip, an internet cafe and more; other good things have followed independently, including a Carter Centre guinea worm project and a small shop. Currently the peace village is reflecting on its future and sustainability, and on how its lived experience of peace can benefit the nation as a whole, and I am leading a team to facilitate that reflection.

There is a priest in residence (as the bishop is often away; while we were there last week he was in London meeting the South Sudanese diaspora there to help them reconcile), a young man from one of the related communities who speaks the same language as most of the people there. He's been ordained for just one year, and he seems very active and committed. One day he went out with the peace village's Unimog for mass in one of the outstations and didn't get back until 2 am. Breaking down and getting stuck in the mud are normal for journeys in South Sudan in the wet season; we had gone in a Land Cruiser to meet the paramount chief a couple of days earlier and ended up walking the last few kms home.

We had mass twice in the village while I was there. One evening we had mass at the school, with several hundred pupils. The mass was in English, as the community is very mixed and doesn't have any other common language, although the hymns sung in local languages seemed to be rather lustier than the English ones. The mass was outside, and I regret to inform the rubrical purists that the priest did not genuflect at all; he apparently assumed that a bow would please the Lord more than him grinding his alb and chasuble into the wet mud with his knee (see comments in a parallel thread somewhere). Actually that mass had been due to take place in the morning but it had rained very heavily so it was postponed. The mass itself only took half an hour, but then there was a further half hour of speeches welcoming us visitors, and we were also asked to explain to the teachers and pupils what we were doing there.

The other mass, also of an evening, was a low key affair in the bishop's small chapel, probably just 4x4 metres, with room for a couple of dozen people. Quiet and prayerful.

This morning back to the missionary chapel in Juba. The Italian priest preached for too long, but apart from that it was fine.

Mass is never boring. If a church-goer finds it boring he should ask himself, "Why am I going to church?" "How come I am regularly bored?" It's my experience that the best way to get the most out of a Mass is to be mentally and spiritually prepared by studying, praying, and meditating on the readings of the Scripture in the Bible, and/or the Daily Roman Missal, before going to church. These simple means of preparation will help him or her prepare for worship at Mass. If it so happens that he or she is still bored, he should seek further guidance concerning this matter from his parish priest. It can very well be that something more is going on.

This Sunday I went to St. Paul's in Cambridge, MA. They have a rather famous choir and music program, which took up a fair amount of time. The priest, however, seemed determined to have a short mass. The result was that practically everything he said was in speed-talk—monotonal and, yes, boring. It was the worst example of speed-talk I've seen. Things are otherwise at my regular, Portland, Maine, church, where mass runs to at least an hour and a half.

>190 timspalding: your comments about a short mass reminded me...A couple of weeks ago I attended Mass at a historic church, Stella Maris on Sullivan's Island near Charleston, SC. It was amazing. A reverent but also quite fast Mass. There was an interesting mix of "Trad" and modern...the priest faced the altar for the prayers - ad orientum, is that the term? The homily was great and short. (I can't remember it at all, sorry) The sung responses were so much faster than I have ever experienced, but I liked it. The choir and the congregation had their act together in a way I've not seen before.

The church is literally across the road from Fort Moultrie.

>191 SaintSunniva:

That's cool. I found the contrast between spacious music and fast words particularly jarring. I'm not sure I'd like fast music, but I'd be willing to cut down the verses if it meant the priest could say the consecration without sounding like the legal end of a car commercial.

I'm surprised about the altar direction. Was the church set up that way?

There's a tradition of short but prayerful masses in some parts of Europe - I think of Ireland and Spain.

Of course one of the old Catholic jokes is about the Irish parish priest reading the notices about mass times for next Sunday: "Next Sunday's masses will be at six, six tirty, seven, seven tirty, eight, eight tirty, nine, nine tirty, ten, ten tirty, eleven, eleven tirty" (he pauses for breath) "four, four tirty, five, five tirty, six, six tirty, seven and seven tirty".

My son recently popped out with "Why do they always says the same thing!" I have a good answer, but I'm not sure I have a good answer in the language a nine year-old would like. Suggestions?

>194 timspalding:

Not sure it is a good answer, but the one I used for my 5YO was:

"Why do you always say hello, goodbye, please, thank you etc? Because it always needs saying when you meet someone, leave someone, ask for something, receiving something etc . And it is the same for the Mass, where we do similar things with God."

So, what's your mass strategy? What level of attention and participation are you aiming for?

>196 timspalding:

Well, with a 5YO who has not yet started primary school, not a super massive level.

The wordy parts, from the Entrance to the end of the Homily, are mostly taken up with doing Churchy related activities (religious colouring in, some prayers for people she knows and whatnot). Except for singing and ritual actions for which she joins in, particularly the ones in the rubrics not many people actually do, as I find they help (bowing at the name of Jesus etc, bowing at the relevant point in the creed etc).

It is just too much talking for her otherwise, not enough doing. Particularly as our Parish is not really high Church – When we go places which incense the Gospel etc I can get her to listen to the words. Once she starts reading better, I think I will introduce a Children’s missal or something, to help her follow along with these parts.

After the Homily, when the ritual actions really get started, then she can get into it. We sit up front so she can see what is going on, and she does not need any distractions. We often however talk about what the various actions means, particularly for special feasts etc when things are different.

At least on good days, anyway :)

Yeah. I've been torn about how to approach. My son, 9 but held back a year, has ADHD (not bullshit ADHD either). And we are in general not big on commanding. (The current rule, for example, is that he must have a real bite of every food that's for dinner, not that he must continue eating it.) I don't want mass to be a battle of wills—the thing he has to do with dad, especially since mom does not come. On the contrary, it's generally been a pretty positive experience, something I hope he will remember. We're a huggy family, and I held him in my arms to see better until about two ago, at which point my arm was on fire every time. We have a great church, and everyone loves him. But battles remain on bad days.

I've been cranking it up slowly. The current understanding is that he must do all the motions—up, down, etc.—and sing and say the big parts (e.g., Lord's Prayer, Agnus Dei, but not the creeds). Otherwise, he draws—his favorite activity generally. Originally his drawings were supposed to honor God in some way. Now I'm more specific—I give him something (usually the Gospel, which I read to him before) as a prompt. So, for example, last week he did a drawing of a fish and a loaf of bread discussing why Jesus had made them, unaware they were about to be eaten. We always do a prayer together, whispering into each others' ear after communion—a practice I adapted from my personal practice of making the post-communion the most important prayer of the week. I'm trying to turn him away from prayers about goldfish.

After church he often gets some instruction. At present there's no RCIC program. So I do a private catechism with him about half the time of varying length. This weekend we did the sacraments at some length, which I was fairly stunned he was able to rattle off and mostly "got." Then we walked around looking for homeless people to buy coffees and such for. I want to associate them in that direct way, so it's not just nice things we do for people, but also honoring God. And obviously he connects with that better than sitting still for some some prayer.

In Turkey he got less, and mass only three times, but he can take apart all the scenes on the walls of an Orthodox church like nobody's business.

So, a mixed bag. Sometimes I think I should have just cracked down from the start, and made him participate like an adult. I see some other parents doing that. I know that's my wife's story—rigidly controlled during mass but processing none of it and seeing it as an annoying burden. Dunno.

>198 timspalding:

Yeah, I really don't want it to be a bad experience, which she will stop as soon as she is old enough.

Wheras at other places I would try to insist on bad days, at Church I don't. She is not an adult, and getting forced to pay attention is not going to give her much benefit.

Just being there is benefit enough on bad days. God works through his Sacraments, even if you are just colouring in while they occur.

Speaking of lively little boys:

As youngsters, my kids loved the opportunity to take food-for-the-poor up to the altar at collection, a regular practice at our church. They got to move, they got a nod or smile from the priest, and I think they felt good being generous. Also, they loved to be the one to drop our envelope in the basket. And sitting close where they could observe and sing with our very talented choir and musicians. Sign of peace was fun, too: I remember a new priest's visible astonishment at the "bedlam" which ensued when kids exchanged greetings at a school mass!

We, too, focussed our prayers to after Communion, the Lord's prayer, etc. For "down-times", when they weren't led off for coloring and lessons, I provided a selection of religiously themed picture books and "saint comics", of which we had quite a few. Interesting to me that a gory illustration of Maccabees that I remembered from my own childhood had been edited out of their Catholic children's bible. My guys would have loved it... :-(

Adopted as a preschooler, our oldest was initially a bit difficult in church (heck, everywhere!), so participation in the after-church reception (he loved those donuts!) was always conditional. When he forfeited his donut with bad behavior, the drive home would be miserable for all of us...

At school mass, kids were given ever-increasing levels of responsibility to keep them in line and to participate. Older ones were assigned younger mass-buddies. They were given lots of experience reading in public, choir, and appropriate dress. A priori interpretation in the classroom was very helpful, I think, in making the Mass meaningful for them.

I'm back in the peace village. This evening we had mass at which the elderly retired bishop presided. It was mostly school children, sitting on the floor in the tiny chapel, with just a handful of adults. The bishop was explaining the gospel text about the woman of ill-repute who washed Jesus' feet, and I had to smile openly when he described the people who were complaining about Jesus allowing her to touch him as "fanatics". We shared a laugh about it after mass; amusing, but those people are oh so evident in our church even today.

Sunday mass at the peace village, in the open air under a ring of huge old trees whose branches come together to form a lattice of shade far above the ground, as high as the roof of many cathedrals, but more beautiful.

There are several hundred people present: schoolchildren in uniform; bare-breasted women adorned with beads; young men wearing football shirts on which the names and numbers of their favourite players in the European leagues have been crudely stencilled; the Paramount Chief of the area wearing western clothes; staff from the village; old men squatting on the carved wooden stools-cum-pillows which they carry around all the time. People sit on wooden schoolroom chairs, plastic chairs, tree trunks, and the dusty ground. Dogs curl up at their feet; a noisy doggy conflict near the end of mass is quickly resolved by the judicious application of a stick.

The young parish priest presides, with the elderly bishop, humble as ever, concelebrating. A gaudy plastic cross with red and blue flashing LEDs adorns the altar, as if Jesus is coming in a space ship. No doubt it will have pride of place until it gets broken or the batteries run down, then it will be replaced with another different cross. Mass is in English as there are so many language groups present; I doubt whether the mass has yet been translated into all of them. The readings and homily are in English and Toposa; even in two languages the homily is only 12 minutes. Hymns are in several languages. At the end the priest leads the traditional dancing to a Toposa peace song.

The mass itself lasts 75 minutes, but then there are the speeches for another 45 minutes. Mass is a community event where messages have to be passed. We're bringing in thirty international visitors, including five ambassadors, for a conference to try to secure funding to sustain this peace initiative, but also to try to educate them on the importance of this type of grassroots peace-building. There will also be government officials, including the State Governor, who is arriving by land this evening with his retinue, and a former rebel general who signed a peace agreement due to the mediation of the bishop. The Paramount Chief addresses the assembled multitude and basically tells them to welcome the visitors and to be on their best behaviour; this place has a reputation for peace and he doesn't want it spoiled. He also tells them that he doesn't want to see any guns in the next few days.

Just before mass I wandered down to the lake, a few hundred metres away, to look at the crocodiles, which come out to bask mid-morning, and after mass we had a wander around the youth centre where traditional grass structures have been constructed for some of the guests to sleep in.

>202 John5918: My daughter and I wonder, if you can say, where in Africa are you?

>203 SaintSunniva: I'm in South Sudan. Normally I'm based in the national capital, Juba, but I travel widely, both within South Sudan and more broadly in Africa.

Holy Trinity Peace Village is in a small place called Kuron, in Kapoeta East County, right down in the far southeastern corner of South Sudan, near Ethiopia and Kenya. You're unlikely to find it on any maps. It's a very isolated place, around 180 miles from Juba, but that journey takes the best part of two days by land when the road is passable; at certain times of year there is no road access at all, but the rains have been poor this year. We went by air, 90 minutes in a light aircraft flown by volunteer protestant missionary pilots.

I'm Sorry I only joined this group today and haven't read every single comment on this thread. Still, I thought I would add my two cents.

Mass is boring because the Novus Ordo is boring. I am a convert to Catholicism, I'm 26, and I go to the Oratory for mass. I was converted through my reading, not through people I knew or by going to church. When I finally did go to church I was completely appalled - At the local parish churches around my home the beauty of the mass was non-existent. Even so, I stuck out the liturgical abuse and nodded along under a cloud of boredom, as I believed the Church I had converted to was the true Church.

This went on for a few years and I eventually stopped going... Until I was introduced to the beauty of the Latin Mass and a reverent sung version of the Novus Ordo, free from abuse, at the Oratory Church. At the Oratory I was met with the beauty and transcendence that the Mass is meant to convey. For Mass not to be boring it has to be reverent - and for people to be drawn to the Catholic Church, rather than an evangelical megachurch, the masses provided need to be unique. They need their own flavour. The Latin Mass and the proper sung Novus Order said Ad Orientem are unique, and would draw people to Church, as well as staving off the boredom induced via a mass said "in the spirit of V2".

>205 d-b: Welcome to the group. Of course I agree with you completely that a badly-celebrated mass can indeed be boring, as you'll find mentioned in some of the posts above.

Could you explain a little further? You said, "the Novus Ordo is boring" but a little further on you appear to praise it: "the beauty of the Latin Mass and a reverent sung version of the Novus Ordo... The Latin Mass and the proper sung Novus Order said Ad Orientem are unique, and would draw people to Church, as well as staving off the boredom". So the mass itself is not boring; it is the careless manner in which it is sometimes celebrated which makes it boring? Or is it only not boring when it is celebrated in Latin? Would the same mass in its English, Arabic or Kiswahili translation be equally good if celebrated reverently? Of course reverence can mean different things to different people.

You also refer to mass celebrated "in the spirit of V2", and yet the current version of the mass, whether in Latin or English, is the result of Vatican II, and thus de facto in the spirit of Vatican II.

I'm not a convert but a cradle Catholic, so I still recall the pre-Vatican II Latin mass. I can assure you that it could be very boring indeed when badly celebrated (as it often was), and very beautiful when celebrated well. I think the same is true of any version of the mass.

>206 John5918:

Glad to be here. You are right, I basically meant that when mass is said irreverently and in a careless manner it is usually boring. To clarify further - I would argue given the nature of the Novus Ordo it lends itself to abuse. It can indeed be said beautifully and reverently, but this seems to be the exception rather than the rule.

I understand that in the pre-V2 days the Mass could also be boring. There did need to be some reform, and a vernacular mass needed to be introduced. I just think that the liturgical changes generally went too far, and are written in such a way as to invite misinterpretation and often outright abuse. The Sung Novus Ordo said ad orientem is a good example of how to carry out the revision well - but this is not usually what happens.

What I think V2 should have done is simply tighten up practice of the 1962 missal, encouraging priests to say it reverently, and focus on building beautiful Churches to encourage people in. I think they should have also made a vernacular version with very slight alterations.

Regarding "the spirit of V2". The Latin version of the mass that is said is definitely not "the result of V2". The extraordinary form follows the 1962 version of the missal. The one put out by the SSPX's publishing house. The spirit of V2 invited the desecration of high alters and the building of ugly churches - while those havens that celebrate the 1962 mass, as made licit by Benedict in 2007, have reinstated their high alters and have start to put together funds to restore or create buildings in the spirit of the churches traditional architecture.

>207 d-b: If you speak of tradition, I speed all the way back to when Mass was celebrated in family homes and the Catacombs.
Quiet intimate vernacular Masses have their own power, reminiscent of that original Last Supper.
I think you limit yourself when you refuse to see the sacramental nature that exists in all the various expressions of the Mass throughout time and geography. Just because you prefer one expression mode doesn't invalidate all the others. A consciousness of what is actually happening is much more important than the outer accoutrements.

>208 2wonderY:

I agree that the earliest form of the Mass was said in homes --- namely around the breaking of bread. But it didn't take long for a recognisable mass to establish itself. As early as the Didache we have an order of the mass, and not more than a hundred years after the traditional order is basically established. From around 400 AD to V2 it developed, but slowly, the basic rubrics were there and the reverence was there. However, the mass inspired by the spirit of V2 ushered in an unprecedented fluidity into the mass that has, for the most part, had a devastating effect on the "outsider's" perception of the mass.

I don't disagree that home churches can be nourishing either. If you have the privilege of a priest who can say mass for you with a small group, that's great!

I can understand someone who praises the Vetus Ordo. And I can understand someone who praises the Novus in the vernacular. Sometimes a Latin Novus Ordo politic or practical. But saying the Novus Ordo in Latin has absolutely no effect on the reverence or aesthetics of the mass.

Latin is just a language and, speaking as someone who studied it for many years, there is nothing so creepy to me as people who fetishize a language they do not actually understand, imagining its every syllable contains some magical power.

It is the Catholic equivalent of white people who get Chinese tattoos, because Chinese just looks so cool and mysterious. It's mystification, not mystery.

As early as the Didache we have an order of the mass

Pretty minimal in the Didache itself, and we have good evidence it stayed fluid for some time. While there may be good arguments for a single set, authoritative, and required order of the mass, those arguments find little support in the Early Church.

Of course reverence can mean different things to different people.

Indeed, and surely that's part of the point. Aesthetically, I lean toward older, more traditional stuff. I even listen to classical music sometimes—a peculiarity that puts me in the 1% of weirdos in this country! And I like a "traditional" church more than a 1960s concrete box. But I recognize I'm in the minority. And I don't put my aesthetics over and above others'.

We can't just turn the clock back, insisting on aesthetic forms that, for most people, have worn out, or holding back others that may emerge. I have little hope for English-language church music. But, at present, a good percentage of the music I hear in church is African, mostly from Burundi, and it is both largely new and fantastic. None of that would have come about without Vatican II, and the spirit of Vatican II. Indeed, Catholicism really only exploded in Africa in the wake of Vatican II, which freed the church there to pray in ordinary language and adapt its worship to the local culture. Requiring Africans to pray in an ancient European language, and sing and decorate like Medieval Europeans is the antithesis of the Gospel, which is meant for all nations.

The Latin Mass and the proper sung Novus Order said Ad Orientem are unique, and would draw people to Church, as well as staving off the boredom

Some people. The majority of Catholics, at least in English-speaking countries, find the Latin mass very boring indeed.

I think it's worth remembering that there have been many rites - Gallic, Roman, Celtic, Sarum, etc - and even today there are several - the new normal one, the extraordinary Tridentine one, eastern, Ambrosian, former Anglican, etc. Horses for courses.

>210 timspalding: Catholicism really only exploded in Africa in the wake of Vatican II, which freed the church there to pray in ordinary language and adapt its worship to the local culture.

Thanks, Tim. I think the Catholic Church in Africa is probably still the fastest growing in the world. d-b, I know you can't be expected to read in retrospect all the posts on this thread, but it might be worth looking at one or two where I describe some African masses. Some are boring and some are tremendous, as with any rite and any language in any country. While I often find myself attending mass in English, as that is often the only common language for diverse groups, Arabic was my normal language for mass for quite a few years, and these days it's not unusual for me to be at mass in Kiswahili and other African languages. I really can't imagine what they would be like in Latin.

Mightn't it have more to do with the priest, congregation and/or church than with the rite or language? Is it the Brompton Oratory that you attend? They have long had a reputation for beautiful liturgy. I have really enjoyed the liturgy in many monasteries (Worth Abbey is one that springs to mind, but I've been to plenty of others).

And as Tim says, there are some appalling churches. The modern church in my old parish resembled a bus garage, although it did have a magnificent organ. But there are also some beautiful modern ones. Again, Worth Abbey seems to come to mind.

But it takes a lot to beat the "cathedral" I described in >202 John5918:

Sunday mass at the peace village, in the open air under a ring of huge old trees whose branches come together to form a lattice of shade far above the ground, as high as the roof of many cathedrals, but more beautiful.

Unless it rains, of course!

>210 timspalding:

I don't think I was fetishizing Latin at all. My reasons for preferring Latin are numerous, for one it gives the Church a universal language --- Someone from Australia can go to church in Italy, and if it is in Latin they can generally experience the same rite in a way they are used to. I think this has something to be said for it. I also think we have been hasty to throw out Latin so quickly, since it was the Language of the Church for so long. That being said, I did point out that I think the vernacular was needed too. I just wish the vernacular was utilised in conformity with Tradition. Which would mean saying mass Ad Orientem with reverance (which would exclude the abuses such as dancing at mass - crazy singing, irreverant dancing etc).

In the West the parish model is dying and the youth are travelling to Churches that enliven the spirit. Generally there are two options 1 - evangelical catholic churches and 2 - traditional catholic churches that say the Latin as well as Sung version of the vernacular NO. The reason why people are flocking to either type is because they foster a sense of transcendence and community. The evangelicals with clapping and waving, and the trad's with reverence, solemnity, and beauty. In fact, many people, as they become older migrate to the traditional mass after a stint with the evangelicals. Young people want to belong to a Church that they can be proud of. It's hard to be proud of an ugly parish church where the priest says the Novus Ordo in half an hour. And it has to be admitted, to get back on track, that the 'mainstream' *Western* Novus Ordo, is one of the most boring church services there is. Why would a young person go to such a church if they could go to a protestant MegaChruch or a soul-inspired black church, or my preference an Orthodox Service (which is indeed beautiful, reverence, and traditional). What the Catholic's need is to find their niche again - which is traditionalism and beauty. A fact already acknowledged by Tolkien and Waugh in the 60s who prophesized the degradation of the Mass that would happen in the west.

So to summarise, I don't in fact have a problem with the vernacular - I just think it has led for the most part, in the West, the mass of V2 has resulted in a bland compromised liturgy that is uninspiring. If what we got was the actual mass envisioned by V2, which is the Sung Novus Order Ad Orientem stooped in the tradition, then it would be a different story. But like I said, this is not how things played out - and it is a huge contributing factor to why young people don't feel a need to go to Church. In regards' to Africa, I don't think there is a problem with a Vernacular Mass --- That is a very different situation to the Western Situation.

Also, I'm from Brisbane --- We have a new Oratory that opened here 2 years ago, and it is already one of the largest youth attended congregations in the city.

>212 d-b: reverance (which would exclude the abuses such as dancing at mass

But in Africa dancing at mass is considered reverent. Vatican II has opened up the options for different cultures to express their reverence.

the mass of V2 has resulted in a bland compromised liturgy that is uninspiring

Many of the masses I attend in Africa are anything but bland and uninspiring, although I'm not sure what you mean by "compromised".

Hi John,

I am specifically talking about the West - I acknowledged that it is different in Africa, as it is for Indigenous communities in Australia. I do, in fact, think it would be silly to make many of them sit through a Latin Mass. In fact, I think due to the temperament of the African peoples a localised evangelical style mass suits them better.

By Compromised I mean, in the West, in the 60s, the Church tried to incorporate protestant styles of worship within a Catholic setting. I.E. doing away with high alters, whitewashing churches, and incorporating things they thought were 'cool' and 'hip' into the mass. With regard to the last point, it was individual priests who did this. What this led to, in the West, was an identity crisis - The Mass become a compromise between Protestantism and traditionalism, sitting somewhere in the middle, occupying a borderland. The result has been very bad masses with no sense of tradition, or no sense of the fun and play found in evangelical Protestant services. Rather the general Novus Order of the local parish is a confused compromise that has little attraction in and of itself.

For an example of what is going on in the West regarding liturgical abuse, please see the pictures from this FB group: https://www.facebook.com/NOVUS-ORDO-Insider-214092855420817/timeline/

My reasons for preferring Latin are numerous, for one it gives the Church a universal language

A universal language none understand. Do you know Latin?

Someone from Australia can go to church in Italy, and if it is in Latin they can generally experience the same rite in a way they are used to

I studied Latin for years. I've studied almost no Italian, yet when I was in Turkey I attended Mass in Italian and it was fine. I'm not even sure I'd have followed the Latin better.

Generally-speaking, however, I want to pray in my own language, not some other language. And putting so much importance on random foreign travel is just strange. Even in Istanbul and Samos, I was able to attend mass in English. I could have attended mass in a half-dozen other languages too. How often are Catholics thrown into foreign cities where they can't find a mass they undertand?

since it was the Language of the Church for so long

Latin was never the language of the Church. It was the language of the Roman rite and the Roman rite alone. And, even then, there were exceptions, and the official business of the church was mostly done in Italian.

Jesus spoke Aramaic. His disciples spoke Aramaic and Greek. The New Testament was written in Greek. The First Seven Councils of the Church were all conducted entirely in Greek, and their acts and creeds, including the Nicene Creed, were written in Greek. Most of the church fathers wrote in Greek. Even the church at Rome was a Greek-speaking, Greek-praying church until the third century.

Don't get me wrong. Although I read Greek and love it, and kinda wish it were the language of the church, it's not. The language of the church is whatever is necessary to speak the Word of God in any age and place. The church is guided by the Holy Spirit, who first came to it at Pentecost, giving all the gathered disciplines power to speak the Good News in their own language, yet be heard by others in their own language.(1) I'm not fond of proof-texts, but, man, that's a good one.

where the priest says the Novus Ordo in half an hour

With the new translation, such speed might be a physical danger to the priest. But certainly I agree many rush it. Not my church, FWIW.

If what we got was the actual mass envisioned by V2

I'm sorry, but this whole line of thought is both pervasive on the traditionalist right and totally silly.

If you take the text alone, Vatican II can be interpreted in various ways. That's the great thing about decontextualized texts. You can spin them. Go ahead.

If you're serious about intent, however, however, you need to wake up and smell the contextual coffee. The post-conciliar implementing documents were written by the same bishops and officials who wrote Vatican II. The new mass was implemented by the Bishops who wrote Vatican II. The Pope of the the later 60s and 70s was the Pope of the council. It wasn't a bait and switch. It was a swing and follow-through.

The contrary is a historically and logically weak conspiracy theory.

But in Africa dancing at mass is considered reverent. Vatican II has opened up the options for different cultures to express their reverence.

And use of drums, which Ratzinger regarded as antithetical to Catholic tradition, somehow.

---

The text even mentions Pamphylians separately, apparently aware of that obscure, dying Anatolian tongue.

1 - I don't think it is about understanding the actual words, rather it's the shared ceremony and experience which is important in the Latin Mass (coupled with a beautiful use of incense and altar servers in a reverential building). Anyway, there is a translated missal for all to use. Regarding Latin, mine is not so great, even though I achieved distinctions in undergraduate Latin some years ago.

2 - You do make a good point, vernacular masses are easy to come by overseas. But that's not my point. I think the retention of Latin is important as it gives the Church a universal tongue to call her own. I also think it is quite sad that Latin isn't emphasised more - I think if it were, more people would try and learn the rudiments of the language.

3 - I agree with what you said here. But I am specifically speaking from the context of the Roman Rite. Of course Jesus spoke Aramaic, the councils were in Greek, and the Eastern Fathers wrote in Greek. This doesn't take away from the notion that the Western Church, over time, has favoured Latin in theory and has adopted it as her official language. Hence why encyclicals are still officially promulgated in Latin.

5 - Well, Benedict seems to have thought that the Mass inspired by the spirit of V2 lost its way, hence why he tried to emphasise the importance of traditional liturgical practice throughout his pontificate. Similarly his love for the liturgy was part of the inspiration for his gracious cancellation of the SSPX's excommunication and his wonderful Apostolic Letter "Summorum Pontificum". Personally I think these two great achievements were done to appease his conscience after the destruction he witnessed following V2 - Maybe he even felt guilty as he was a theological advisor and an implementor. It's true that many of the bishops at the council were responsible for the destructive implementation of her documents, but it can't be denied that what is often seen in church goes far beyond what Sacrosanctum Concilium stipulated... One example being the retention of some Latin. However, today this is being rectified, as witnessed by traditionalist priests such as Fr. Fessio over at Ignatius who often speaks about the Novus Ordo as it was intended. Similarly today the Latin mass is the strongest it has been in 40 years, and it is encouraging vocations in Oratorian Churches around the world.

>215 timspalding:

If you're serious about intent, however, however, you need to wake up and smell the contextual coffee. The post-conciliar implementing documents were written by the same bishops and officials who wrote Vatican II. The new mass was implemented by the Bishops who wrote Vatican II. The Pope of the later 60s and 70s was the Pope of the council. It wasn't a bait and switch. It was a swing and follow-through.

The texts of the Council also represent the contributions of minority positions, through which the Holy Spirit was also speaking, in order to get the required consensus. The later implementation did not always respect this, and thus might be able to be criticised on that basis.

That said, it would be hard to say VII did envision a particular rite, and the current rite comfortably falls within the possibilities provided for by VII. That does not however prevent the Church from further adjustments, which might also do so.

I would also like to stress that I am not saying there should be no vernacular mass. I love the Sung Novus Ordo Ad Orientem. But I also love the Latin Mass and value the 1962 Missal.

>212 d-b: the priest says the Novus Ordo in half an hour

I attended plenty of masses prior to Vatican II where the priest ran through the Tridentine mass in well under half an hour. I think we need to beware using rose-tinted spectacles. There was appalling liturgy on a regular basis prior to Vatican II just as there is appalling liturgy in some instances now.

Someone from Australia can go to church in Italy, and if it is in Latin they can generally experience the same rite in a way they are used to

I agree with Tim that the norm for the Church should be the language that the community understands, not the needs of the occasional traveller. But in fact the mass is the same across the world, so when I'm in Spain or France or Kenya or Sudan I can still follow the mass, at least as well as I could in Latin, a language which I don't know.

>214 d-b: Thanks for clarifying that you are only speaking about the western Church, now a minority within the Catholic Church (or about to be soon), and for acknowledging the need for cultural diversity. But it is Vatican II which opened up that cultural diversity, so while I can identify with your discomfort with bad liturgy where it occurs, I am a bit confused by your more generalised criticism of "the spirit of Vatican II".

>216 d-b: I don't think it is about understanding the actual words, rather it's the shared ceremony and experience which is important

My point exactly. It is the shared ceremony and experience which allow me to participate in the mass whether it is in Spanish, Kiswahili, English or any other language, not understanding the actual words. It's something I do on a regular basis.

The texts of the Council also represent the contributions of minority positions, through which the Holy Spirit was also speaking, in order to get the required consensus. The later implementation did not always respect this, and thus might be able to be criticised on that basis.

Indeed, and I think that's a critical point, often missed. While I don't think "respect" is the right term, it's certainly true that interpretations have differed. The Council documents permitted that interpretive wiggle-room.

Overall, however, after the Pontificate of Paul VI, and the footnote of JPI, the post-conciliar years saw a dramatic swing back to conservative, minority positions. That strain of interpretation lasted from 1979 on, with increasingly more intense rubbishing of the Council. It culminated in B16, whose pontificate was centered on the reinterpretation of the Council, and who was so blessedly eager to bring schismatic Traditionalists into communion, that he neglected to notice one of the four did not merely object to the Council's theology toward Jews, but was an actual holocaust denier.

Even so, liberals responded with arguments, not threats. There was no liberal schism. There was never even a threat of schism. On the contrary, the rubbishing of the council achieved such respectability, and traditionalist schism such succor, that large numbers of Traditionalist Catholics today, confronted with a Pope who is a more obvious friend of the Council, are now ready to schism.

In other words, all the efforts to avoid conflict with Traditionalists have back-fired. Huge majorities supported all the Conciliar documents, but phrases were added to ensure they were overwhelming majorities. Enormous efforts were undertaken to prevent the SSPX schism, and later enormous efforts were made to bring them back, even if it meant rubbishing the council to do it. New measures were enacted to give Latin-mass attending Catholics—who had acted in direct and persistent violation of the church's authority in continuing to say the old rite—a protected home in the church, maintaining even their variant calendar, like a foreign rite.

The end result of pandering? Threats of schism and, I suspect, actual schism to come.

That said, it would be hard to say VII did envision a particular rite, and the current rite comfortably falls within the possibilities provided for by VII. That does not however prevent the Church from further adjustments, which might also do so.

VII did not envision a particular rite, although it had certain visions. Does it fall within comfortably within the possibilities provided for by Vatican II? Sure. The parameters are fairly wide, but it fits the overall aspirations for the church.

And, again, the same people who wrote the Conciliar documents wrote the Mass itself. As for future adjustments, sure. All the masses of church history, across all rites and times, are all the mass. Their diversity is far greater than anything I can imagine the church doing now with the Latin rite.

My point exactly. It is the shared ceremony and experience which allow me to participate in the mass whether it is in Spanish, Kiswahili, English or any other language, not understanding the actual words. It's something I do on a regular basis.

What languages do you speak or understand, John, if I may ask?

>221 timspalding: English, Arabic, Nuer and some French, although all the last three are getting pretty rusty as i don't use them much these days. My Kiswahili is very basic - I can survive and talk about food, drink, money, accommodation, transport, etc, but can't hold a proper conversation. I can greet people in a dozen or so languages (including Dinka, Nuer, Shilluk, Toposa, Kiswahili, Zulu, Afrikaans, Arabic, Tswana, Maasai and a handful of European languages) - greeting is very important in Africa and people really appreciate it if you greet them in their own language before switching to a lingua franca like Arabic, English or French. I'm not a natural linguist and it's been a struggle learning and maintaining languages.

I only studied Latin for one year aged 11 but I have to confess we studied the young female teacher (it was the 1960s and miniskirts were in vogue) more than the language, then I dropped Latin to concentrate on sciences.

>220 timspalding:

Even so, liberals responded with arguments, not threats. There was no liberal schism. There was never even a threat of schism.

Well, there are a number of actual liberal schisms, though small (i.e. the WomenPriest thingy etc). There was also the widespread "de-facto" schism now talked about even by people like Cardinal Kasper, where Bishops, priests and laity simply stopped listening to the magisterium and did their own thing in practice. Or just left, either to places like the Anglican bodies, or out of organised religion entirely.

The key difference is that a kind of Anglican indifferentism is part of the DNA of the liberal dissent, so the inconsistency of being part of a body whose doctrine is completely different to their own was less bothersome. Conservatives don't have that strain, so "de-facto" schism is less of an option, and actual breaks become a more likely prospect.

On the contrary, the rubbishing of the council achieved such respectability, and traditionalist schism such succor, that large numbers of Traditionalist Catholics today, confronted with a Pope who is a more obvious friend of the Council, are now ready to schism.

Again, that is a baseless smear. The Bishops who signed that letter to the Pope for example, would die before giving up the Council. The various errors being proposed today are not supported by the Council, and several are directly contradicted by the Council.

Two different masses on two different feasts.

For Christmas we were in Cape Town and went to the midnight mass at the cathedral, with the slightly unusual name of "Cathedral Church of Our Lady of the Flight into Egypt", although it appears to be more commonly known as St Mary's, which to my British ears sound a bit Anglican.

The service began at 11.30 pm with carols and readings, then mass began at midnight and finished around 1.30 am. Singing of carols during the mass was better than during the carol service for some reason, perhaps because there were more people who gradually drifted in. The church was pretty full but not packed, in contrast to most Christmas services I have attended. There are big screens to display the words during mass, which seems to be increasingly common in South Africa but not in the rest of the continent.

The archbishop presided, with his vicar general, the parish priest and a permanent deacon. We had had a private dinner with the archbishop and vicar general the night before, so it was nice to see them again at work. A good homily from the archbishop, 12 minutes long, emphasising the year of mercy and also quoting a long-dead US president who said that Christmas should be "a state of mind" rather than just an event.

After mass we walked back to our hotel, about ten minutes away, along brightly-lit streets.

Today, the Baptism of the Lord, I was at mass in the missionary chapel which I normally attend when I'm in South Sudan. The Apostolic Administrator of a neighbouring diocese presided, passing through Juba on his way to Rome with the other bishops. The superior of the missionary order concelebrated along with an elderly South Sudanese priest who also belongs to that order. He is old and less active now (and he reads the text of the mass from a folder where it is printed in huge type) but is well known for his outspokenness during the period of Arab domination of South Sudan, when he was imprisoned and survived death threats. Other priests sat amongst the congregation. Amongst those present were many missionaries from different orders as well as aid workers and other foreign workers. Attendance was a little smaller than usual as not everybody is back from the Christmas holiday yet. We sang the English version of one of the masses composed in Uganda back in the '70s, which is always nice.

The homily by the monsignor, about 15 minutes long, concentrated on the solidarity between God and humanity, and had some interesting reflections on how we should (and sometimes actually do) show solidarity, including to refugees going to Europe. He also thanked the missionaries for their solidarity with the South Sudanese church, and particularly a missionary group who have just suffered five of their sisters being robbed and assaulted by armed men, with one of the elderly sisters raped. One of the sisters was at mass today, still sporting cuts and bruises, but as determined as ever to continue with her work of training teachers.

We were also informed how much we had put in the collection plate during 2015, a total of around USD 1,100 at today's exchange rate, but that's a bit misleading as the exchange rate has varied from three to nineteen South Sudanese pounds to the dollar. The congregation is usually around 60 people. As well as cleaning and maintenance of the chapel, the money has supported pastoral ministry in the women's prison.

I read once that in one of the Orthodox rites, just prior to the start of the Liturgy, one of the deacons reminds the congregants that a window is being opened onto heaven. (I can't find a reference to it today, but the imagery is there in folding triptych icons, which are also meant for a view into heaven.) I remind myself of that as I can, and today was more successful. I think I'll build a little church where the roof hinges open to illustrate it to the little ones.

Father, of course, spoke of baptism, but I was caught by his referencing an alternative word - "christening." Christening has always seemed to be the cheaper word, as one can christen ships, after all. But looking at the root of the word for the first time, it is completely accurate.

At our parish today, the substitute (the pastor being away to Poland to visit his family) priest, one of my favorites, gave a moving, from-his-heart homily about his own baptism, how we need to all truly LOVE each other, and told a most endearing story, of an old couple in his last church, who invited him to dinner. They always spoke to each other in endearments; eventually Father asked the man, but what is your wife's name? And he replied, I've forgotten, at which point the congregation laughed, but Father wasn't trying to make a joke.

Yesterday evening I had an unusual mass experience in a village deep in the South Sudanese bush. The people in that area are out tending their cattle or crops all day from early morning until dusk, so pastoral work, including liturgy and religious education, begins after they have come home and had a meal.

We sit in a circle made of logs which are used as pews, with a hug bonfire in the middle to provide light - our emeritus bishop says, only half-jokingly, that you can tell how industrious the catechist is by the size of the ash pile. This particular catechist, Lucia, is very industrious. Dressed in animal skins and beads, the normal attire here, she has managed to gather well over a hundred people at short notice. She leads the singing and prayers. The singing, all in the local Toposa language and style, is beautiful, accompanied by old plastic jerrycans used as drums, and the ubiquitous rattles made from cooking oil tins flattened and filled with dried seeds. The responses to the prayers are chanted by the people rather than said. The firelight barely illuminates the congregation, and nothing can be seen outside the circle. About halfway through the mass another large group arrived, singing and dancing, but I honestly have no idea how many of them there were - I just saw more shapes and shadows merging with the existing ones. We had brought a couple of small solar lamps for the bishop to see what he was doing at the altar, but apart from that the only light was from the fire and the bright stars above.

It had taken us about an hour and a half to reach the site, maybe ten kilometres or so from the peace village. The first part was on a dirt road which is actually the main road to Kenya (about 250 km away) and which the peace village is currently repairing using food to pay people to gather stones. Then we turned off into the bush. We got stuck a couple of times, but fortunately we had a large group of youth in the back of the pick-up who jumped out to push. The folk in the other car, which had gone ahead of us, had to chop down a small tree at one point to get through a swampy patch. When we arrived at about 6.30 pm there was nobody to be seen anywhere, so we sat and waited patiently. As darkness fell we saw people and animals returning to their grass houses. Then once again it seemed deserted as they ate their daily meal, then suddenly at about 8.15 pm the circle came alive and mass began.

Mass was in Toposa except for the Eucharistic Prayer, which was in English, and the homily, which was in both English and Arabic and translated in to Toposa by one of the youth. The bishop is not fluent in Toposa, but he knows enough to read the mass and the gospel. The current chaplain to the peace village concelebrated with him. He is a priest from another diocese who is displaced from his own parish by insecurity, who volunteered to come and spend some time at the peace village; I used to work in his diocese so I know him well, and it was great to see him. He told us that the few weeks he has spent so far in this oasis of peace in a troubled nation has helped to heal his trauma from his own experiences of violence. He's already speaking the local language, which is from a completely different language group than his own.

The mass lasted no more than 90 minutes, with a remarkably short but pithy homily from the bishop, and then we set off for home, arriving back at the peace village after 11 pm, tired and hungry, not having got stuck once. Often the chaplain doesn't get back until the early hours of the morning if the outstation is further away or the road is bad.

I had accompanied some visitors from one of the Catholic aid agencies based in Juba, and they were really struck by being able to be outside at night. In Juba the aid agencies have a self-imposed curfew, demanding that all their staff be locked up indoors by 7 pm for security reasons. Here in the bush around the peace village we could wander around all night in perfect safety.

Quite a change from going to mass in Washington DC where I was just a few days earlier!

Wow! I love this thread, and especially love your posts, John.

Back at the missionary chapel in Juba today I realised that this is the first time in three months I have found myself in Juba on a Sunday. I've had a manic period of travel including the USA (see Mass in Washington DC), UK, Germany, Switzerland and the two extremes of east and west in South Sudan (see >227 John5918: for the east).

In the UK, we stayed over two Sundays with an old friend of mine who is an Anglican vicar, so we attended mass in her High Anglican parish. The mass itself is very similar to our mass, there are statues of Mary, and they have the Blessed Sacrament in a tabernacle. They go rather overboard on dressing up, with priest, deacon, sub-deacon, altar servers, choir, lay preachers, off-duty clergy, and apparently Old Uncle Tom Cobley And All, wearing vestments of various sorts. Mass was reverent and enjoyable, and the singing was, of course, superb, albeit sometimes a bit of a performance by the choir.

We heard two extremely good homilies, both by women, one a licensed lay preacher who is also a Rwandan refugee, the other by the vicar herself (also an immigrant, as she is from the USA, married to a Briton). All the anti-immigration people in the UK should listen to people like Marie-Christine telling her story of fleeing with her small daughter after her whole family were slaughtered, the horrendous journey she made to get to England, and the difficulties she then encountered. It was both sad and gratifying to hear that only in the Church did she feel really welcomed, and they helped her with practical details, including education for herself and her daughter (who is now at Oxford). She now runs a charity to help her own people back in Rwanda. The following week my friend the vicar gave a superb homily on the difficult text of Luke 16. Both homilies were over in 12 minutes, which surprised me a bit as I thought Anglicans preached for longer.

In between all that I got my share of Catholicism by attending the lunchtime mass in Westminster Cathedral one day when I found myself up the Smoke with time to spare. Short, simple and reverent, with no unnecessary flourishes. I love Westminster Cathedral. The flashy marble only goes to the top of the pillars as they ran out of money when they were building it, so above them are looming vaults of dark brick, very mysterious-looking. They're trying to raise money to "complete" it; I rather hope they never succeed - I prefer it as it is.

I also attended mass at my brother's parish one Sunday. They've got a new priest who belongs to one of these weird movements, and it's clear he is not in tune with the people. My brother plays in the folk group. It struck me that when I were a lad playing my guitar in church folk groups all the musicians and lead singers were young; now they're all my age, ie they are basically the same people from my youth with no new blood. I gather this new priest doesn't like the folk group, but fortunately the parishioners, mainly young families, do. Mass was OK, but at the end the priest showed an advertising video for some US bible course that he wanted people to sign up to. It seemed so out of place, not least the complete strangers who he had hanging around in the porch waiting for people to sign up.

Back to South Sudan, where I spent the last week in the extreme west in a town called Yambio. The elderly mother of one of the diocesan priests died while I was there, so I attended the funeral. The old cathedral is a tiny little old brick building, which is now a shrine to the former bishop who died a couple of years ago in his mid-eighties. He was much loved, and I knew him well, so I spent some time paying my respects at his grave. The new cathedral is a warehouse-sized steel frame with a corrugated iron roof and no sides. The current bishop (who is a great friend of mine and who keeps reminding people that I taught him in the seminary 25 years ago) presided at the funeral mass, and about 20 diocesan priests were there to support their bereaved colleague. The mass was in Zande, with the eulogy and homily summarised in English. It only took 90 minutes, which is not bad in a diocese where the liturgy at big events such as an ordination or the centenary celebrations of the diocese can last up to eight hours!

"Survivors of Hurricane Matthew put on their Sunday finest and picked their way through downed power lines to sing praise and pray in ruined churches, while desperation grew in other parts of devastated Haiti and international rescue efforts began ramping up..."

http://www.nytimes.com/aponline/2016/10/09/world/americas/ap-cb-hurricane-matthe...

ETA: "...- Mass in damaged church - In another town, La Gaudray, close to the provincial capital Les Cayes, residents gathered for mass in a church whose roof had been ripped off.

Standing in the tropical sunlight streaming into the building, the 100-strong congregation sang and listened as the priest urged them to help their neighbors through these trying times.

One churchgoer, Abner Jean Charles, 52, said the devastation to so many homes had kept some people from attending.

"About 30 percent didn't come. There were a lot of victims of the storm," he said.

There was, however, no sense that Haiti, whose population is generally deeply Christian, had been divinely punished.

Instead, the tone of the singing and prayers was almost joyous.

"We came to pray to God for all he did for us, that we are still alive," said Elsie Gerard, 45."

http://www.enca.com/world/haiti%E2%80%99s-hurricane-survivors-plead-for-aid

More contrasts. One Sunday, in the small missionary chapel in Juba. We had two baptisms, both babies from the Eritrean community. The elderly Italian missionary priest explained that they are Eastern Rite Catholics, so they have the three sacraments of initiation, baptism, confirmation and eucharist, all at the same time. There was a third Eritrean baby in the congregation, who had already received the sacraments of initiation, so we had the (for us) unusual experience of three babies receiving communion.

A week later, we were in South Africa, staying in the parish house with an old friend who is parish priest of a suburban parish. This week they are having a parish mission to mark the end of the Year of Mercy, so the two priests leading the mission are also staying here - quite a little community.

During the Sunday homily one of them told the story of Pope Francis' visit to the optician. He was prescribed new lenses, but told people he was keeping the old frames as there was nothing wrong with them. The homilist used this as a parable for the Church. There's nothing basically wrong with the framework, but we need to see it through new lenses, with new vision.

During the week there are masses at 6 and 9 am, and meetings each evening. We've been going to the 6 o'clock mass each day. They promised that the early mass would only last 20 minutes, so that people can go on to work or school or whatever, and they've kept to that. The mass has not felt rushed at all, but they have chosen shorter readings, omitted what is not essential, and avoided extraneous verbiage. Very nice and meditative.

Somewhere on LT, probably the thread on the new English translation of the mass, there's a conversation about the use of the word "chalice" to translate calix in the Eucharistic Prayer. Neither of these priests, both theologians, use the word chalice. One uses "Passover Cup", the other uses "Cup of Blessing" or "Blessing Cup". They would argue that both of these are more accurate, and anyway, they sound better.

>231 John5918:

That's neat. I'm impressed the priest would do what sounds like an eastern-rite Baptism in an otherwise Latin community. Was it an eastern-rite liturgy for the baptism-confirmation-communion, or how did he do it?

>232 timspalding:

No, it was a Latin Rite liturgy, but with all three sacraments of initiation conferred at the same time.

>233 John5918:

Well, I suppose they do that for adults--for me, for example.

>234 timspalding:

Yes, it's a normal part of the Easter Vigil liturgy, for example, where adults are initiated, or any liturgy which includes adult initiation.

I'm in Johannesburg this week, attending a Pax Christi Africa conference which is being held in a Methodist retreat and conference centre. The compound has peaceful paths and spaces conducive to meditation and prayer. The chapel is comfortable for Catholics, with an altar, crucifix, stained glass window and bright wall hangings. It also has large windows overlooking the little lake, which is home to a population of beautiful birds. I was able to watch no less than twelve Red Bishops at one point (and we also had a white bishop and a black bishop as part of the congregation inside the chapel!) We have 45 or so participants from around a dozen African countries, most of which are currently experiencing or have recently experienced conflict, including South Sudan, Kenya, Uganda, Liberia, DRC, Burundi, Ethiopia, Mali, South Africa, Cameroon, Lesotho and Zimbabwe, plus a handful from South America, Europe and the USA. We're examining the concept of active nonviolence in the African context, as a follow-up to the meeting in Rome in March which was jointly organised by Pax Christi International and the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace.

Our daily morning mass is a mixture of English, French and KiSwahili, with translations where necessary. This morning we used an Ashanti penitential rite. Today, the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, the presider invited some of the women in the congregation to share their own experience of Mary at the end of his homily; very moving and inspiring.The priests and bishops amongst us take turns to preside at mass. It's a sign of the hierarchical tendencies in some countries that one priest was almost grovelling in his effusive and repeated public thanks to the two bishops for allowing him to preside in their presence. You'd be hard pressed to find two more humble and self-effacing bishops anywhere, but apparently that is not the case everywhere!

One interesting side effect of the new English translation of the mass is that while those who normally pray in English have largely begun to overcome 40 years of muscle memory and become familiar with the new words, those who normally pray in other languages still tend to remember the old English translation rather than the new. Hence our mixed community still stumbles over some of the new responses.

At our Mass we had a dear old priest, who was a late vocation at 51. Now I think he's in his 80s. His take on the Gospel reading (from Genesis) had us rather holding our breath...that Adam lusted for Eve and so started down the wrong path even before the serpent & apple . I don't think that could be, though. They were created without sin.

With ISIS publishing list of churches to attack this Christmas, here's praying that Mass and all other holiday gatherings remain "boring".
(That goes for all others, too, of course!)

http://www.reuters.com/article/us-usa-security-warning-idUSKBN14D007

>238 margd:

Something tells me that ISIS publishing a list of American churches is a stunt, not unlike when the Westboro Baptist Church announces they're going to picket something in Maine base--they never travel that far. I hope I'm right. But I would be truly fearful going to mass in Egypt tonight. And, indeed, I'd be afraid in Izmir or Istanbul. (We considered it, but decided to stay put down here in mass-less southern Turkey for other reasons.)

I think the Vatican might be the ultimate prize for those slimeballs, though they can be no less hard on their own--burning alive the Turkish soldiers... Saladin, they are not, but then he was a Kurd. Have a happy, quiet little Christmas: keep your heads down!

>239 timspalding: sounds like quite a story...why are you in southern Turkey?

We've been hemming and hawing about midnight mass...going when daughter gets here from Washington state and husband gets off work at 11 pm, and just getting too dang tired to do it.

So it'll be 9:30 in the blessed Christmas morning!

Happy Christmas!

I probably will never attend midnight Mass again. I can't stay up that late. My unbelieving daughter though, expressed an intention to go to Mass with me, so we hurried off after the presents glut to a parish in her neighborhood. Lovely old church, lightly attended, not many singing. But the gospel reading connected with her, and she took an iphone photo of the page. Yay!

Other daughter truly "got" the meaning of the season with her gift to me - she made a donation to Catholic Relief for Syrian refugee assistance. Double yay!

>241 SaintSunniva:

We've been living here for two months, and will for another. We did this a year and a half ago too. We love it here. I miss mass, but my son and I do a service on Sundays together, and we attend mass when we can--this time, alas, not yet, but we'll probably attend mass at Ephesus again, as we did last time.

Other daughter truly "got" the meaning of the season with her gift to me - she made a donation to Catholic Relief for Syrian refugee assistance. Double yay!

Good for her. I confess we've done very little for them, although there are thousands near us right now. We'll be doing more soon, we've promised ourselves.

There was no Midnight Mass in Juba this year. As the archbishop put it, "You always shoot guns, who do think will come for prayers?" He also appealed for restraint and avoidance of killing or stealing as people celebrate Christmas.

But I wasn't in Juba - I'm in Kenya at the moment. Christmas was spent 450 km from Nairobi at my wife's family's village. I think I've described Christmas mass in the parish church there before, somewhere in this thread.

Two days later we had a house mass at the family compound. It was a mass of thanksgiving for a couple of things. Three of my wife's brothers have now built their own homes on their late father's compound, as local tradition demands, so those were blessed, and one of my sisters-in-law has just been appointed a high court judge, so the family wanted to give thanks for that too. The little mausoleum holding the graves of my wife's late parents was also blessed - they are buried at home, again as local tradition demands. Mass was outdoors, in a marquee. More than 130 people attended (maybe 40 relatives, the same number of friends and colleagues, and the rest local villagers) although afterwards I think far more people ate dinner - it seems we fed half the village, and several goats gave up their lives to do so! Mass was mainly in KiSwahili, with two priests. The Church choir came and the singing was beautiful. My wife's grandfather is still very much respected in the local parish - he was a leading Christian and died falling from the roof of the parish church while helping to build it in 1945. His grave can be seen there.

Edited to add: Incidentally, her great-great grandfather was the local king, after whom the town is named.

Mass this morning in the guest house of a missionary congregation in Nairobi (not the same congregation we go to when we're in Juba). In Nairobi we go to mass here from time to time. Only half a dozen people at mass in this small private chapel, which contains a beautiful stained glass window of Joseph and the boy Jesus. The presider is an old colleague of mine who doesn't add extraneous words, and whose homiles are short, to the point, include some exegesis of the readings, and speak to missionaries, as that is the congregation. He's been a lecturer at the Catholic University for many years. Mass takes just 35 minutes. No singing (much to my wife's disappointment) but I enjoy quiet meditative masses like this. Afterwards, coffee with the lads, where I met a Canadian missionary who I used to know in Khartoum over 25 years ago. We didn't recognise each other...

The last couple of weeks I have been at mass almost daily. I've been co-facilitating a workshop for the diocesan personnel from part of a Sudanese diocese which is "liberated territory" (or "rebel-controlled" according to the Khartoum regime), where the current bishop, who lives in Sudan, cannot access this part of his diocese as the government will not allow him to cross the front line, so it is cared for by the emeritus bishop, based in Nairobi. He's nearly 80, and not in very good health, but still active enough to run a major hospital, several schools and five or six parishes. His personnel are having their annual meeting, retreat and trauma healing in the safety of Nairobi, a welcome break from the war zone where they are bombed regularly and are currently waiting for a major government ground offensive to begin (ironically just a couple of weeks after President Omar Hassan al Bashir announced a six-month "extension" of the non-existent cease-fire in exchange for the easing of some economic sanctions by the USA). We had mass each evening in the convent where we were holding the meeting. The bishop presided each day, with a deacon, a dozen or so diocesan and missionary priests, the same number of nuns, and a couple of dozen laity, maybe fifty or so people in all. Mass was in a mixture of English, Arabic and Kiswahili, for a congregation made up of people from Sudan, South Sudan, Kenya, Eritrea, Australia, USA, Ireland, India, Tanzania, Uganda, Norway, the Netherlands, Germany, Italy and UK. The bishop managed to confine himself to preaching for less than fifteen minutes each day, not bad - he must be mellowiing as he ages! I have worked closely with him over a 33 year period and I've endured some very long homilies from him over the years. The hymns were sung joyfully, led by the sisters and a Sudanese priest who is a composer, organist and guitar player. After communion each day we also recited the Anima Christi and the prayer for peace in South Sudan.

Edited to add: It was a very satisfying experience singing the Lord's Prayer in Arabic, something I haven't had the opportunity to do for years.

Tried to get to daily mass in a suburb of Izmir, where the website said there'd be one. No mass.

If there is one dogmatic truth which obtains always and everywhere in the Catholic church, it is that the website is wrong.

I'll try again in a few days, when I come back through, but can't be in Izmir for Sunday mass.

>246 timspalding: If there is one dogmatic truth which obtains always and everywhere in the Catholic church, it is that the website is wrong.

Agreed!

You guys >246 timspalding:, >247 John5918: are on a roll. Keep it up!

As for me, I once again, as usual, attended our beautiful Shrine of St. Anne, this time with my oldest son, 31. He has leukemia, and Fr. Piotr will be giving him the anointing of the sick tomorrow morning during or after the 8:15 Mass.

>248 SaintSunniva:

My thoughts and prayers are with you and your son.

>248 SaintSunniva:

I'm so sorry, SS. I'll pray too.

Back in Juba, and daily mass this morning in the chapel of yet another missionary guest house where I am staying. The carved wooden tabernacle is in the form of a round African thatched house. There is an ebony statute of a bare-breasted African madonna and child. The candle on the altar has wilted, leaning over drunkenly, due to the heat - it's close to 40C during the day, albeit a little cooler early in the morning. Just six of us, but the sisters were there, so we had singing. The presider was a US missionary who spends most of his time sharing a tent with seven other people, living amongst thirty or forty thousand displaced people in a UN "protection of civilians" camp in a city that has been virtually burned to the ground and is empty apart from the military; he was due to have gone back there a day or so earlier but his UN flight had been cancelled due to fighting on the other side of the river. I lived in that city myself thirty-odd years ago, and again around 2009. His homily on today's feast of Ss Timothy and Titus was short and to the point and managed to include gender inclusivity and missionary encouragement. The congregation consisted of an Australian brother, South Sudanese and Kenyan sisters, and me.

This is an interesting missionary group. It is not a single religious order but a collaboration between more than 200 Catholic religious congregations worldwide, who between them have sent a group of around 35 missionary laity, brothers, sisters and priests to South Sudan from a couple of dozen congregations and the same number of nationalities. They live in mixed communities - mixed congregations and genders - and work in the fields of teacher training, health worker training, agriculture and pastoral ministry.

Incidentally, I would love to share with the LT Catholic community more of the positive experiences in some of these small informal masses, but I'm afraid to post too much detail publicly on the internet in case it is picked up by others who might use it to create a backlash.

I wake every morning nowadays expecting Mr. Trump to have put the entire nation into another war. Yesterday's Mass gave me a certain peace, realizing more immediately that Jesus has won the ultimate war.

Father Steve's sermon was on the first reading, Isaiah 58, and he was accused by at least one parishioner of preaching politics.

>252 2wonderY:

That is such a beautiful reading from Isaiah 58, and it always also reminds me of Matthew 25:31-46. It's ironic that many of Trump's supporters are Christians of a bible literalist persuasion, as these two scripture texts alone should settle the immigration question.

I was at mass in my usual missionary chapel in Juba, South Sudan, with our singing Italian maestro presiding. Actually the mass, which he composed himself, is rather good, especially now that the congregation has become familiar with it. He also composed an extra little song for us which he sang as the conclusion of his homily.

Liturgy can't be effective if people can't hear it (NCR)

In Nairobi for mass this morning, at the missionary guest house. Only five of us for mass, including the presider. Quiet, reflective, and it only took 30 minutes.

Another good homily - I made a point of complimenting the presider after mass and told him he has the gift of being both deep and simple in his homilies. Reflecting on the Gospel reading (Matthew 5:17-37) he commented that Jesus did not come to do away with the law ("not one jot or tittle") but rather to explain the purpose of the law, which is love. Love trumps law. This reminds me very much of Pope Francis' approach - he is not changing doctrine, but rather explaining that doctrine must be interpreted in terms of love (or pastoral concern, to put it a different way).

Somehow I never noticed that the first Sunday of Lent's Gospel is always one of the accounts of the temptations of Christ. (Our deacon mentioned this in his homily, or I still wouldn't know.) He went on to tell a riveting story of succumbing to temptation at age 13 in the early 1950s...going hunting with friends after promising his mother he would only go fishing, not hunting. A shooting accident occurred, he barely pulled through. His mother (who had raised him alone-his father abandoned the family when he was a baby) offered no recriminations, ever. It was a great story, one I don't think I will ever forget.