The deaconate
The Mormon Church has been in the press a lot lately with the “I’m a Mormon” advertising campaign on television and on billboards, a smash Broadway show called “The Book of Mormon,” and the hype surrounding the Mormon faith of Republican presidential candidates Mitt Romney and John Huntsman. Mormons are known for encouraging their members, specifically young men, to go on missions, preaching the gospel and proselytizing their faith.
Long before the Mormon Church, Christ called his followers to be missionaries of his Word and servants of the poor and those in need. The growth of the early church summoned the need for certain individuals specifically dedicated to the preaching of the Word and the service of the poor. These individuals were called deacons, and included both men and women.
Though the permanent diaconate in the West declined after a number of centuries, it was revived by the Second Vatican Council. The seeds of that revival, however, likely began much earlier with the help of Frs. Otto Pies, SJ and Wilhelm Schamoni, SJ, who were imprisoned in the concentration camp at Dachau. Their experience of the terrors at Dachau helped them to realize the need for a more effective witness of Christ in the world and they believed that a revived diaconate was the answer.
The word deacon comes from the Greek work diakonos which means “servant.” Service to the Church and to the People of God is the primary essence of the diaconal ministry. Deacons aren’t junior priests, nor does their ministry usurp the gifts of the laity. They are called to bridge the gap between the Church and the marketplace as evidenced by their role in the liturgy: preaching and proclaiming the good news of the Gospel, announcing the community’s needs in the prayer of the faithful, ministering the cup of salvation and sending the community forth to love and to serve the world.
This weekend, my community welcomes another deacon in our midst. May all deacons be strengthened in their call to selflessly serve the afflicted and to proclaim and preach the promises of the Gospel. Amen!
Gathering
This year we will celebrate the 50th anniversary of the opening of the Second Vatican Council. The Council changed everything, from the way we pray to the way we view the world. For example, The General Instruction of the Roman Missal now says that Mass begins “When the people are gathered.”
That’s a stark contrast to the pre-Vatican II instruction which said “When the priest is ready.”
The Church is teaching us that there is something very significant about the gathered community.
Some people use the gathering time before Mass for quiet prayer, while others might use that time to socialize in the gathering area with fellow parishioners. For most, it’s a mixture of both. In the mind of the Church, it’s not “how” we gather that matters, it’s “who” gathers that counts.
I reflect on those who gathered last Sunday. There was Shirlee, awaiting test results and word of further treatment for cancer. There was Sofia, off to New York to audition for Julliard and other colleges, and Joe, trying to stay sober one more day. There was Tom, eagerly anticipating his ordination to the Deaconate, and Jane, facing yet another week of trying to make ends meet. There was Ben and Lisa, young, in love and planning their wedding, and Terry and Bob, elated that after nearly 20 years of waiting, they will soon have a grandchild.
Behind every face in our gathered assembly, there is a story or two. These are the stories of pain and loss and joy and thanksgiving and hoping against hope; living with something that can’t be explained or fixed. These are the stories that put flesh on what it means to die and to rise. Our gathering, therefore, symbolizes the paschal mystery of Jesus. This is why the documents of Vatican II say that Christ is really present in the gathered community. Before the first note is played or the first prayer uttered, our gathering becomes a holy event. We gather to seek strength from each other and from the God who strengthens us in word and sacrament. Our very gathering becomes a sign of God’s presence in and solidarity with the world. Amen!
Liturgy and Catechesis
This weekend marks the feast of our parish patron, St. Thomas Aquinas. This month marks the 15th anniversary of my mother’s death. Both my mom and Thomas were Italian. My mom loved to cook. Thomas loved to eat. If they weren’t born seven centuries apart, they might have been friends.
Thomas was a great teacher. In fact, Thomas’s teachings on the Sacraments are still considered foundational texts. But, Thomas didn’t merely teach about the Sacraments. He participated in them to the fullest. Word is that he could hardly get through a Mass without being moved to tears, so inspired was he by the celebration of the paschal mystery. Thomas knew that learning about faith helped him to experience it more fully in the liturgy. And, he knew that praying the liturgy helped him to seek further knowledge. Thomas demonstrated that liturgy and catechesis work together, showing us that liturgy without catechesis is empty ritual; and, that catechesis without liturgy is empty knowledge—information without transformation.
It would be like my mother teaching me how to cook something without allowing me to eat it; or, like serving me her delectable Italian meals without telling me what I was eating. My mom didn’t know Thomas. But she knew about the connection between liturgy and catechesis. She herself attended Mass daily and took advantage of adult education and Bible studies. A single mother, she made sure her children participated in both the Sunday liturgy AND catechism classes. Unfortunately today, too many parents choose one without the other.
Both Thomas and Mom knew that the ultimate goal of both liturgy and catechesis is a relationship with the living God through the person of Jesus. Thomas’s teachings helped foster this relationship for the Church. My mother’s persistence helped foster this relationship for her children. Perhaps Thomas and Mom are now enjoying that relationship together at the heavenly banquet. Bon appetite! Amen.
The Liturgical Diet
More people have been showing up at the gym these days. That’s no surprise. After the first of the year, the gym is usually filled with people who have made a New Year’s resolution to get in shape. Besides trekking the treadmill and practicing Pilates, gym-goers are likely to adopt the latest, greatest diet. And they have plenty to choose from. Of course, there are the old standards like Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers. And, then there are the more unconventional diets like the Chubster diet, the Dukan diet (Kate Middleton’s FAV), the Mediterranean diet, the Thrive Vegan diet, the Raw diet, and the Caveman diet, all designed to do everything from strengthen muscles to trim muffin tops.
What if we created something called the Liturgical diet? It might look something like this:
Arrive in time for the beginning of Mass. The gathering song, like a healthy breakfast, is designed give you the energy you need for the work of prayer. Exercise your Baptismal right to worship by responding and singing with your whole heart. It is the best cardio workout. Feast on the Sunday readings as an appetizer throughout the week. The Word of God lasts longer when it is slowly digested. Savor the Eucharist. It is food for the soul. Don’t deny yourself the final blessing. Like a healthy dessert, it can leave you feeling fulfilled.
The word “diet” comes from the Medieval Latin dieta meaning “a daily food allowance.” Its Greek counterpart, diaita means “a way of life, a regimen.” And, therein lies the key to any successful diet. Counting calories and avoiding carbs are external tools to temporary weight loss. But, unless there is desire from within to change a way of life, the pounds are likely to return. And, so it is with liturgy. The liturgy provides what we need to maintain a healthy, spiritual life. But, unless we have an inner desire to allow the liturgy to change our way of living, our worship might wind up as empty calories. So, here’s to a New Year, to the Liturgical diet, and to a Body of Christ who is spiritually fit for the sake of the world! Amen.
Amazing Grace
Sunday marks the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who, were he still alive would be 83 years old. His life is being remembered this weekend in ceremony, in prayer and in song. Dr. King was fond of spiritual music. As a young boy, he sang in the church choir, and his last words were reportedly to a musician, requesting that the song Take My Hand, Precious Lord, be played at an evening event which he was planning to attend. One of the songs sure to be sung over these next few days is Amazing Grace.
Amazing grace is one of the world’s most beloved and well-known songs. The words were written in 1773 by British cleric John Newton. The song is believed to be a spiritual autobiography of Newton’s life. Newton was a rebellious young man who later acknowledged his own wickedness writing, "I sinned with a high hand, and I made it my study to tempt and seduce others." He was pressed into service by the Royal Navy, working as a midshipman on vessels which included a slave-trading ship. His behavior was so bad that he was thrown off the ship and left with a slave dealer in West Africa where he was abused and mistreated along with the other slaves. He was later rescued, but on the voyage back to England, a violent storm nearly sank the ship. In his fear, he called out for God’s mercy. Soon after, the ship was able to sail to safety and Newton’s conversion had begun. Newton later became an Anglican priest, hymn-writer and eventually a prominent supporter of the abolition of slavery.
Because of its themes of conversion and promised deliverance, Amazing Grace is a song of hope. This is why it accompanied many civil rights marches in the 1960’s. The song is a reminder to us that God’s grace is greater than our greatest human weakness, that conversion is possible and that the dream of freedom and harmony can become a reality in our day. Dr. King staked his life on that. So did Jesus. Each Eucharistic liturgy calls us to do the same. Amen!