(no subject)
Easter Sunday!
This year I really haven't been overly assiduous about attending Mass, going to confession, or practicing any of the manifold rituals and practices that my Church mandates. When I was a new convert, I tried very hard not to miss a Sunday or a Holy Day of Obligation; but I've gradually absorbed from my mother the realization that regular Mass attendance is not that crucial to the practice of Catholicism. (Feeling guilty about it, on the other hand, is very close to the heart of the Catholic experience....)
So I've slackened up. Perhaps too much - the discipline of regular Mass, the structure that it imposes, is very much a benefit for me. And I really want to be a bit more committed than an "Easter-and-Christmas" Christian.
But in fact, I have been to Mass probably, oh... three or four times this year. And before that, Christmas; before that, last Easter. So the shoe seems to fit.
Maybe I have matured a bit in my faith, in one regard anyway; I knew the Vigil Mass this evening would be a long and somewhat boring one - three hours, in fact. So I went in without trying to cultivate a sense of reverence and awe, as I usually do. I figured that if they came, great; if not, the mere physical act of sacrificing an evening would be of benefit.
And it was boring and flat, in some places - the interminable readings (eight of them), the homily - which was given twice(!), once by Monseignor Giusta in English, and once by a young priest I didn't know, in Spanish.
But I was surprised to feel myself tearing up, watching the catechumens being baptized, and then seeing the catechumens and the confirmands taking the Eucharist for the first time. I felt again what I felt the first time I watched a priest walk down the aisle behind a crucifix - the sense of history, of connection. It struck me then, and it still occasionally does, that these ceremonies we have been practicing for fifteen hundred years. Maybe that's the truth behind the idea of Apostolic Sucession; by taking part in these rituals, we share a community with millions of other people over centuries. The Church has changed, of course, and the Mass; but when I eat the bread and drink the wine, I am participating in a ceremony that St. Francis knew, and St. Louis the King; Theresa of Liseaux, Martin of Porres, Lorenzo di Medici, Leonardo da Vinci, St. Patrick, Simone Weil, Geoffrey Chaucer and King Alfred, as well. Further, I can go to any Catholic church in the world, and participate in the Mass. I've done this, in Ireland, and in Atlanta at a Spanish language Mass. It is a beautiful thing.
One thing that occurred to me was that we never use one particular symbol in our rituals - earth. Water we have sanctified, in baptism and holy water, and fire - the Easter candle. But we have never sacramentalized earth. And that seems to me a shame. Earth - humus - human - humility; there is a metaphoric progression there that is just as powerful as water - cleansing - purification and fire - enlightenment - passion - light split but not diminished. Dirt is mud, is "dirty", is considered impure - it's the "old Adam", and of course "adamah" means "earth" in Hebrew. But it is what we are formed of, in the mythos of Genesis - "Dust thou art, and to dust thou shall return". And it cannot be bad, because as Genesis points out, God created the earth "and saw that it was good." Hating the world, finding it inherently evil, is the poisonous heresy of Gnosticism. Earth was created by God, and He did not create evil.
I still am not entirely sure about the wisdom of keeping this journal online. The question is, for whom am I writing? I know that my friends who blog or keep LiveJournals do it to record to be shared with friends. The one LiveJournal entry I've read - by Katharine, a/k/a pointedview - was an account of her trip to Las Vegas with her husband and another couple. Very well-written and interesting, but a journal? To me that word connotes private reflection and self-introspection. And by it's very nature, blogging is - I think, I freely admit that I've never actually seen a blog - for public comment.
Another thought arises - I am such a strong introvert that the majority of my "real life" takes place in my head - my reflections on things I experience, or ways that I grasp the world. It means so much to me, of course, but would this mean anything to anyone else? And would anyone be interested in what I am thinking or worrying about or (this is extremely common) excoriating myself for? Does anyone really need to know about my battles with depression, or the idle thoughts that drift across my mind? Does anyone want to?
I am writing in this medium because I have found it difficult to keep a journal in the classical mode. I get lazy, and my entries are more in the line of aides-memoire. I write best when I feel I might have an audience. But really, do I? And do I want to?
This year I really haven't been overly assiduous about attending Mass, going to confession, or practicing any of the manifold rituals and practices that my Church mandates. When I was a new convert, I tried very hard not to miss a Sunday or a Holy Day of Obligation; but I've gradually absorbed from my mother the realization that regular Mass attendance is not that crucial to the practice of Catholicism. (Feeling guilty about it, on the other hand, is very close to the heart of the Catholic experience....)
So I've slackened up. Perhaps too much - the discipline of regular Mass, the structure that it imposes, is very much a benefit for me. And I really want to be a bit more committed than an "Easter-and-Christmas" Christian.
But in fact, I have been to Mass probably, oh... three or four times this year. And before that, Christmas; before that, last Easter. So the shoe seems to fit.
Maybe I have matured a bit in my faith, in one regard anyway; I knew the Vigil Mass this evening would be a long and somewhat boring one - three hours, in fact. So I went in without trying to cultivate a sense of reverence and awe, as I usually do. I figured that if they came, great; if not, the mere physical act of sacrificing an evening would be of benefit.
And it was boring and flat, in some places - the interminable readings (eight of them), the homily - which was given twice(!), once by Monseignor Giusta in English, and once by a young priest I didn't know, in Spanish.
But I was surprised to feel myself tearing up, watching the catechumens being baptized, and then seeing the catechumens and the confirmands taking the Eucharist for the first time. I felt again what I felt the first time I watched a priest walk down the aisle behind a crucifix - the sense of history, of connection. It struck me then, and it still occasionally does, that these ceremonies we have been practicing for fifteen hundred years. Maybe that's the truth behind the idea of Apostolic Sucession; by taking part in these rituals, we share a community with millions of other people over centuries. The Church has changed, of course, and the Mass; but when I eat the bread and drink the wine, I am participating in a ceremony that St. Francis knew, and St. Louis the King; Theresa of Liseaux, Martin of Porres, Lorenzo di Medici, Leonardo da Vinci, St. Patrick, Simone Weil, Geoffrey Chaucer and King Alfred, as well. Further, I can go to any Catholic church in the world, and participate in the Mass. I've done this, in Ireland, and in Atlanta at a Spanish language Mass. It is a beautiful thing.
One thing that occurred to me was that we never use one particular symbol in our rituals - earth. Water we have sanctified, in baptism and holy water, and fire - the Easter candle. But we have never sacramentalized earth. And that seems to me a shame. Earth - humus - human - humility; there is a metaphoric progression there that is just as powerful as water - cleansing - purification and fire - enlightenment - passion - light split but not diminished. Dirt is mud, is "dirty", is considered impure - it's the "old Adam", and of course "adamah" means "earth" in Hebrew. But it is what we are formed of, in the mythos of Genesis - "Dust thou art, and to dust thou shall return". And it cannot be bad, because as Genesis points out, God created the earth "and saw that it was good." Hating the world, finding it inherently evil, is the poisonous heresy of Gnosticism. Earth was created by God, and He did not create evil.
I still am not entirely sure about the wisdom of keeping this journal online. The question is, for whom am I writing? I know that my friends who blog or keep LiveJournals do it to record to be shared with friends. The one LiveJournal entry I've read - by Katharine, a/k/a pointedview - was an account of her trip to Las Vegas with her husband and another couple. Very well-written and interesting, but a journal? To me that word connotes private reflection and self-introspection. And by it's very nature, blogging is - I think, I freely admit that I've never actually seen a blog - for public comment.
Another thought arises - I am such a strong introvert that the majority of my "real life" takes place in my head - my reflections on things I experience, or ways that I grasp the world. It means so much to me, of course, but would this mean anything to anyone else? And would anyone be interested in what I am thinking or worrying about or (this is extremely common) excoriating myself for? Does anyone really need to know about my battles with depression, or the idle thoughts that drift across my mind? Does anyone want to?
I am writing in this medium because I have found it difficult to keep a journal in the classical mode. I get lazy, and my entries are more in the line of aides-memoire. I write best when I feel I might have an audience. But really, do I? And do I want to?