Category: Religious traditions, rituals. customs, and understandings

Ecclesial Biodiversity

Although only a few kinds of potatoes are grown all over the world, there are hundreds of varieties still growing in the homeland of the potato — Peru.
My neighborhood market usually carries Red Delicious apples and a few other varieties, but many other tasty apple varieties are grown throughout the area.
Biologists lament the destruction of the Amazon rain forest. They warn us that thousands of unknown species of plants and herbs are being lost forever, some of which may have medicinal properties vital to our future.
What as a child I knew as the Bronx Zoo — the New York Zoological Society — now calls itself the Wildlife Conservation Society. It sees its mission to preserve endangered animal species that are disappearing as a result of over-hunting and destruction of their natural habitats.
We should have similar concerns for the Church. Right now the most widespread, dominant, and renowned variety of Church throughout the world is the Roman Catholic or Western Church. But, besides the Roman Catholic Church, there are other significant varieties and groupings of churches.
The daughter churches and ecclesial communities of the West — the Anglicans, the Protestants, and the Evangelicals — are also found all over the world.
In the East — the ancient homeland of Christianity — there are many apostolic and deeply rooted species of church: the Assyrian Church of the East, the Oriental Orthodox churches, and the great family of Byzantine Orthodox churches — as well as the Catholic Eastern churches in full communion with the Church of Rome.

Some of these relatively small Eastern churches preserve disciplines and canon laws, sacramental and liturgical practices, customs and popular religious traditions of great validity and importance, yet different from those of the great Roman Church.
An obvious example: From time immemorial most of the churches of the East ordain both married and celibate men as priests — although now bishops are always chosen from among the celibates.
In the Roman Catholic Church, the ministers of the sacrament of marriage are the couple themselves; the presence of the priest is required by church law, but he is considered only an official witness. In the East, the priest administers the sacrament of matrimony — the priestly blessing is indispensable for the couple to be wed.
Although the Orthodox churches agree with the Roman Catholic Church concerning the indissolubility of a true Christian marriage, most have a different discipline when it comes to remarriage.
There are many important usages in the East that may be lost forever, if not all the Eastern churches survive. Churches, too, can become an endangered species.
Concern for church unity must not become concern for church uniformity. Ecumenical sensitivity implies concern for preserving the existence and life of all the Eastern churches, whose rich diversity is the common patrimony of us all.


(Published in
Catholic Near East, 24:5, September 1998)

Holy Places

Monument [from the Latin monere, to remind] 1. A statue, pillar, plaque, etc. erected to perpetuate the memory of a person, event or historical period. 2. A tombstone. 3. Any conspicuous or fine structure surviving from the past. 4. An area or plot of land having some special or historical interest and set aside by a government as public property.

Shrine [from the Latin scrinium, a case or chest] 1. A receptacle for sacred relics. 2. A place, as a tomb or a chapel, sacred to some holy personage or considered as sanctified by the remains or presence of such. 3. A thing or spot made sacred by historic or other association.

Usually once a year I have the happy privi­lege of leading a group of pilgrims on a journey through the Holy Land. As they visit sites that appear so different from their childhood images, most question, “Is this really the place?”
I explain that not all holy places are the same.
Some holy places are actual historical locations, identified by traditional, docu­mentary, and archeological evidence
Other holy places only serve to focus our reflection on some aspect of our faith or biblical happening
As we walk from place to place, in our minds and hearts we are journeying through space and time from one event to another, meditating on the mysterious designs of God.
Over the centuries, Jews, Christians, and Muslims have built great shrines in the Holy Land to remind pilgrims and visitors of persons and events of the past.

Some of these shrines mask the place they commemorate. For example, the mosque-synagogue in Hebron covers the cave of Machpelah, the burial place of the Patriarchs. The Cenacle, which pilgrims visit in Jerusalem, is but the remains of a church built over the spot where the house of the Last Supper once stood.
Other shrines reveal not only the place they enclose, but even the history of faith associated with it. In Nazareth, the Church of the Annunciation marks the place of the house of Mary and even shows the remains of the successive churches built on the site over the centuries.
“Exactly where is the spot?” pilgrims ask at many shrines. “Was it right here or over there or where?”
What’s the difference! If you’re praying at Calvary in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, clearly the crucifixion took place in the immediate area. If you’re anywhere in Bethlehem, Nazareth, or Jerusalem, you’re incontestably visiting a holy place.
For that matter, if you’re in Israel or Palestine — or Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, or Egypt — for sure you are in a part of the Holy Land. In fact wherever you are, you’re in the one world made holy by the creation and intervention of the one God, Lord of all.
Alas, believers often quarrel about the access to, use, or possession of shrines or monuments. Would that we would all realize that we live in and share one holy place.


(Published in
Catholic Near East, 20:6, November 1994)

Byzantine Catholics in Italy

Walking along the rocky, wooded hillside you can see the soaring ruins of the temple in the distance. The Greek gods are long gone, but the soft chant and incense of the Byzantine Liturgy wafts down the valley.
Where in the Mediterranean are you? Why in Sicily, of course.
For so many of the centuries of its long history and culture, the island of Sicily — and even much of southern Italy — has been Greek.
In classical times it was part of Magna Graecia. Even late in the Christian period Greek was still spoken. In fact, for about three hundred years before the Norman invasion in the 11th century the whole area was under the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople, not the Pope, the Patriarch of the West.
Today the last remnant of that ancient Italo-Greek church is the ancient monastery of Santa Maria di Grottaferrata, just outside Rome. The abbot, often a bishop, has jurisdiction over the Basilian monks of the monastery and local faithful.
Once there were hundreds of these Byzantine Catholic monasteries throughout southern Italy. Gradually, after the Norman conquest, the monasteries, monks, and people became absorbed into the Latin or Roman Church.
It was one of those curious accidents of history that led to a revival of Byzantine Catholicism in Italy. As the Ottoman Turks spread their empire throughout the Eastern Mediterranean, many Christians choose to migrate instead of living under an Islamic regime.
In the 15th century two large groups of Christian Albanians crossed the Adriatic and Ionian Seas to Italy.

Since the northern Albanians were Latin Catholics, they felt very much at home and quickly blended with the local Latin Catholic population.
The southern Albanians were Orthodox and kept apart from the Italian Catholics. They built their own churches and for several decades had even their own Orthodox bishop.
In 1596 these Orthodox Albanians came into full communion with the Roman Catholic Church, and Pope Clement VIII constituted them as a separate Eastern Rite or Eastern Catholic Church, as we would say today.
Presently there are two dioceses belonging to this Italo-Albanian Catholic Church in addition to the monastery of Santa Maria di Grottaferrata. Although they are of fairly recent foundation, the roots of their Italo-Albanian communities go back centuries.
The diocese of Lungro near Cosenza in Calabria was established in 1919. It has 27 parishes and 33,500 people and as served by the bishop and 31 priests.
The diocese of Piana degli Albanesi near Palermo in Sicily was founded in 1937. It has 15 parishes and 30,000 people and is served by the bishop and 29 priests.
Grecian ruins are scattered about the Sicilian countryside, vestiges of a glory long past. But, the faith of Byzantium still flourishes in Sicily and Calabria in the living Italo-Albanian Catholic Church.


(Published in
Catholic Near East, 20:3, May 1994)

What’s Right?

“In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue . . .” It used to be that no one challenged passing on to generations of school children that Columbus discovered America. Now, we’re more nuanced. Columbus “discovered” America for Spain, but many peoples from Asia and voyagers from Europe had been there before him.
Many great discoveries in the world of mind and spirit are arrived at by different folk, but usually they become identified with one time, one place, and sometimes one person. Take, for example, the notion of inalienable human rights. It was “discovered” in the Middle East.
In the ancient Middle East, societies were structured around kinship groups such as the family, clan, and tribe. The group provided each of its members with identity and security. Outside the limits of each village or town, the lone individual was defenseless and helpless.
The price paid by the individual for the security of the group was complete acceptance of its ways and decisions, especially of its head, be it father, patriarch, or king. In the ancient world, human life simply was group life. No other way was conceivable or desirable.
Laws codified the ancient customs of these societies. They made clear what the individual’s obligations were to the group and the group’s obligations to the individual. I fulfill my obligations to the group and obey its customs and laws, and I expect everyone else to do the same.
This reasonable expectation that others would be bound equally to follow the ancient customs and laws that made social life possible is at the root of what we mean by a “right.”

One ancient Middle Eastern society had ways uniquely different from the others: Israel. Although ancient Israel’s customs and laws were much like those of its neighbors in practice, the Israelites had a different motive for following them.
In other societies, the basis for law was custom and the will of the ruler. In ancient Israel, the basis for law was the revealed will of God. The Sinai covenant between God and the people meant that every aspect of Israelite society was ordered and governed by God.
Since “rights” refer to the reasonable expectation that others will follow the customs and laws of society, in ancient Israel, “rights” became a religious matter. Rights are rooted in the will of God.
The whole teaching of the Hebrew scriptures supports and enhances this idea, from the story of creation. God created men and women “in his image.” Each human person has a fundamental dignity which comes from God.
Jesus taught the incredible importance of each person. In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus says the ultimate measure of our lives will be how we treated each one of “these least brothers of mine.”
No wonder then that, as heirs of the Judeo-Christian tradition, we speak of each person being endowed by his or her creator with inalienable rights. And, what danger for us, if we forget that these inalienable human rights come from God.


(Published in
Catholic Near East, 17:2, July 1991)

Aggiornamento, Renewal or Revolution?

[An address to the annual Alumnae Reunion of the College of Saint Rose, Albany, N.Y. on 22 October 1966]

As Catholics in the United States today we would be less than honest if we did not admit that we feel much confusion. So much seems to be changing in the Church — Latin is out, English is in; chant is out, guitars are in; Lent is gone; Fridays may be going: new ideas: questioning of customs. All over there is change — and so much change is uncomfortable. It is not just priests and religious — all of us must feel the tensions and anxiety of this time when the whole Church seems to be changing right beneath our feet.
I think that this tension, this questioning, this confusion goes deeper. I think they are symptoms of something far more profound and far-reaching. They are signs of a tremendous work of the Holy Spirit in our day.
The Spirit has always been in the Church. We usually think of the Church as a group of people founded by Christ. Jesus was sent from the Father; he carried out his mission. At the end of his life he entrusted it to others, and they in turn to others even to our own day. But it is more than that. The Lord said he had to leave this world and return to the Father so he could send the Spirit to us. Pentecost was a turning point in history when the Holy Spirit was poured forth on human kind. Not only was the Spirit given to individuals, but came to dwell in the Church as such. The mission of Christ is entrusted to us and to the Spirit. And, even now, the Spirit acts in and guides the Church.
All this change, this work of the Spirit in the Church is like a plowing. To ready the field for new seeding and growth the smooth and familiar must be ripped and wrenched up. It is a violent experience, but a necessary one. Now there is a real plowing in the Church. The Holy Spirit is forcing us to a new consciousness, a new vision. These years of the Council are wonderful ones, but hard for us as well.
Pope John always saw the need for this new consciousness of the Church. He had called for “aggiornamento” — the Italian word does not have an exact English equivalent — an up-to-dateness in the Church. Perhaps we could best say, “renewal”. He felt that we could never invite non Christians to the Church, or even hope for union with other Christians until we first made the true nature of the Church more visible. Like some priceless painting, obscured through age, the Church needed to be restored to her true beauty. She needed to better dress and prepare herself so that all would see what she really is.
Both Pope John XXIII and Pope Paul VI had always seen this new consciousness of the Church as a great work of the Holy Spirit. When Pope Paul took up the work of the Council in September of 1963, after God in His providence took Pope John to himself, he called for a new Pentecost. And, especially when the Council concluded last December, the Holy Father called then for a Pentecostal experience, a new stirring up of all Christians as the fruits of the Council would be brought to them.
There is a real need for this new image of the Church. For example, suppose we try to see the Church as some non-Catholic sociologist might. We might well regard the Church, or Catholicism — for we mean the same thing practically — as merely a cultural phenomenon. Take the so-called “Catholic” countries for instance, such as Italy or the countries of Latin America. So often what we think of as the faith is part and parcel of the tradition and customs. To baptize your child is the proper thing; to use a knife and fork at the table is the proper thing; to omit either is to be a boor. It may not be personal commitment, but simply convention that is at the root of much “Catholic” behavior.
Even here in the United States a comparable phenomenon exists. Perhaps we could speak of a Catholic sub-culture here. How often our adherence to the faith is tempered by the maintaining of a national identity. Catholics here are immigrants — Irish and Italians, Germans and Poles, and many others. Is our loyalty to the Church personal commitment or perhaps in large measure loyalty to our group and family background? So much of our efforts as Catholics have been to build our institutions, indirected for ourselves. Schools and hospitals, societies of men and women, programs and clubs — is it faith or nationality?
Besides all this. what is our traditional image of the Catholic? The “good Catholic” is the man or woman who goes to Mass each Sunday, who does not eat meat on Friday, who fasts during Lent, who contributes to the support of the Church, and who goes to the sacraments at least once a year, and now we would say, frequently. Is this mostly just a set of loyal observances? With due respect, aren’t we in many ways much like the Pharisees? And they certainly were open to much criticism by the Lord.
Can we go further? What about our own “self-image”? What do we teach about our faith when we wish to pass it on? The traditional summary has been the Baltimore Catechism. You are familiar with those three main divisions: Creed, Commandments, and Sacraments. To present the doctrines we believe we take the Apostles’ Creed and tack on to it a brief summary of St. Thomas’ Summa. “I believe in God…” and we talk of unity and attributes, of eternity, omniscience, omnipotence. We speak of trinity, of one nature and three persons; of the Incarnation; of one person and two natures. Is not our concern with the particular interests of the Scholastics and their philosophy? We jump from the Incarnation to the Crucifixion and then on — but the heart of the matter is Christ, and the Catechism give him very little treatment indeed!
For a dynamic we use the ten Commandments. What is specifically Christian about this? The Commandments are really the heart of the Mosaic law, the covenant between God and the Israelites. Yet we take them as our basic ethic, and hang all sorts of negative norms on them. Look what we do with the sixth one! And it is only a statement about the obligation of marital fidelity.
Even the Sacraments are somewhat distorted. Sometimes we almost — and with due reverence, I say, “almost” — treat them as magical. Perform this action correctly,and you receive grace — especially in that large quantity we call sanctifying! How little attention we pay to them as mysterious encounters with Christ and His people; how little we stress the disposition and faith of the recipient!
Yes, there is a great need for a better vision of the Church, a better perspective. And what is it? Simply this: Christ. A Christian is a person completely caught up by the person of Jesus, a person who lives by his word.
Even as children we seek a model for our lives. For the very small child his or her mother or father is everything. When a little older, it is a kind of hero-worship. The mature person knows that all human idols have clay feet, but even so we ever seek to acquire the virtues we see incarnate in other lives. If we seek the perfect, the fullest of human perfection we look to Christ.
You and I have never seen Jesus, nor spoken to him, nor heard him, nor touched him. Yet we take him for our model and guide. He must have had the greatest personality ever. Through the testimony passed on from those who knew him and through the work of His Spirit we imitate him and try to keep his word.
It is hard to keep a true perspective on the words of Christ. He was a revelation. No one ever knew the true dignity of a human person until he revealed it. God loves each person, each of us, you individually, personally, more than anyone else loves you. How much this knowledge must influence our attitude towards the poorest and most abject of persons.
Another revelation of the Lord was that of our destiny. He showed us a vision of full human maturity and life, he revealed to us that we are invited to an unhoped for happiness now and intimate union and full life with God forever.
The dynamic that Christ called for is truly radical. The ethic he gave contradicts all human tendency. We naturally seek self-fulfillment in the acquisition of the good. The Lord told us that it is all the opposite — by giving of ourselves we receive. “The one who seeks to find his life will lose it, and the one who seeks to lose it will find it.”
Jesus gave only us one commandment: the night before he died he said: “A new commandment I give you; love one another as I have loved you.” And he said, “Greater love than this no one has than to lay down his life for his friend.” The Lord gave to us unstintingly. He gave up his eternal glory in becoming man; he took a poor and humble human life rather than affluence; he gave up his job, home, and security to minister to us; he gave his time, effort, compassion, power; he gave up, finally, his name, reputation, bodily integrity — even his life itself. His love was total.
What are we then? People committed to Christ, persons trying to live by his word and his example. What is the Church then? The great teaching of the council is this: the Church is the people of God. We are no clannish group, indirected upon ourselves. We are a leaven and a light to the world, with the task of penetrating all human society. We have as our dynamic and motive, love.
What we are growing into under the Spirit is this — a great, new vision of the Church. It is not a group of any one culture or race; it is not a collection of customs and laws; it is more than Hebrew legalisms, Greek philosophy, Roman laws and language, imperial purple, feudal class distinctions, renaissance dress, baroque excesses, the nineteenth century’s patronizing attitude towards the non-Western peoples — all these are externals and peripheral. The Church is those committed to Christ, and its task is the betterment of all human persons and institutions.
Your responsibility, as a Catholic college graduate, your job is to become so like Christ, to have such love, to give of yourself so generously that your home and family, your work, all with whom you are in contact grow always better, and so always closer to Christ. It is a life caught up in Jesus and that will end in one final moment of generosity — when at death you too will give all, even your life.

(Published originally in
Keynote, the College of Saint Rose Magazine,
1:3, December 1966)