When I was a teenager, I was very involved in my (Methodist) youth group. It was a wonderful time in my spiritual life, and I am very thankful for all the things I learned during that time. I think there are many Christian adults today who can look back at their time in high school youth group as a time of spiritual growth and advancement. Yet I have to admit that I have for a long time had an uneasy feeling about the culture of youth ministry within the church.

My concerns revolve around two common aspects of many youth groups: the lack of parental involvement and the “consumer” mentality of many of these groups. The fault for the first problem often does not lie with the youth ministers, but with the parents, who consider the parish’s youth group a means to “outsource” their duties to raise their kids Catholic. I’ve known many youth ministers who practically beg parents to get involved to no avail.

But the origin of the other problem – the “consumer” mentality of youth ministry – I think falls more closely to the nature of modern youth ministry itself. I recently ran across an article (entitled “I think I’m doing youth ministry all wrong“) by Tim Schmoyer, a youth minister who articulates my concerns quite nicely (emphasis added):

Despite knowing otherwise in my head, the way I actually lead my church’s youth ministry is mostly from the mentality that our youth ministry is a program or service we provide to families. It’s almost like I’m unintentionally feeding the consumeristic perspective by sometimes using language like, “We offer small groups…” and, “We provide connection points for your teens…” Since when was ministry ever supposed to be about what a paid staff member and a couple adult volunteers are expected to spiritually provide for teens and families?

Youth ministry should not be about how the church can serve the youth or even how we can provide programs that help them grow spiritually. That’s the parents’ responsibility. In fact, I don’t think youth ministry should even accidentally enable parents to outsource their God-given responsibility to us, something I know my ministry is all too guilty of. Support parents, yes, but enable them to outsource? No.

The Greek word for “church” is literally “ekklesia,” a community of believers who are “called out” to serve and edify each other and the people around them.

Instead of fueling the consumerism mentality of what a church “offers” or “provides” and which church in town does it best, youth ministry should probably be about helping teens use their God-given gifts to serve the body. It should teach families that youth ministry isn’t just about what the church does for them, but that they are “called out” to think beyond themselves with a servant’s heart. I bet teen church drop-outs would decrease if they actually served as a valuable and essential part of the local body of Christ.

Note the first section I highlighted: it is the parents’ responsibility to help their children grow spiritually. This cannot be out-sourced. A youth program’s purpose is to simply assist the parents in this task. But it is not the job of the youth program to “sell church” to teenagers. It is to give teens an outlet for practicing the faith that has already been imparted by the parents to them.

I recognize of course that in the real world many, many parents are not doing this job, and many youth ministers are heroically trying to fill that gap as best they can. But no matter what, the focus of youth ministry should be less about making the Church conform to the desires of teenagers as it is making teenagers conform to the demands of the Church.

The average Catholic – as well as the average non-Catholic – believes that the Catholic Church is one monolithic church, with one way of celebrating Mass and a single hierarchy which rules that church. However, the truth is much more complex, so much so that I’m reminded of the saying, “I don’t believe in organized religion, I’m Catholic.”

In reality the Catholic Church is made up of over 20 sui juris churches. What does sui juris mean? That each of these churches is under its “own laws”. In other words, each church can have its own canon law, its own liturgy, and its own governing hierarchy. Some of these churches are headed by a Patriarch, some by a major archbishop, some by a Metropolitan, and some simply by a bishop. Each of these churches, however, it in communion with the bishop of Rome, and, according to Vatican I, he has universal jurisdiction over all the churches.

There are currently 23 sui juris churches that make up the Catholic Church. They include:

1. Latin Catholic church
2. Coptic Catholic church
3. Ethiopian Catholic church
4. Maronite church
5. Syriac (Syrian) Catholic church
6. Syro-Malankara Catholic church
7. Armenian Catholic church
8. Chaldean Catholic church
9. Syro-Malabar church
10. Albanian Greek Catholic church
11. Belarusian Greek Catholic church
12. Bulgarian Greek Catholic church
13. Byzantine church of the Eparchy of Krizevci
14. Greek Byzantine Catholic church
15. Hungarian Greek Catholic church
16. Italo-Albanian Catholic church
17. Macedonian Greek Catholic church
18. Melkite Greek Catholic church
19. Romanian church United with Rome
20. Russian Catholic church
21. Ruthenian Catholic church
22. Slovak Greek Catholic Church
23. Ukrainian Greek Catholic church

As you can see, 22 of these 23 churches are Eastern churches; only the Latin church is Western. But the primary reason most people don’t know about all these Eastern churches is that the Latin Catholic church makes up 98% of all Catholics worldwide. So, if you meet a Catholic on the street, there is a very good chance that he is of the Latin church.

Another thing that people often confuse is the difference between a “rite” and a “church”. The churches above are NOT rites; instead they each practice a rite. A rite is a liturgical patrimony: it is the way in which a church worships. There are primarily six different rites within the Catholic church (with many variations within the different churches). They are:

1. Alexandrian
2. Antiochian
3. Armenian
4. Byzantine
5. Chaldean
6. Latin

So one might ask themselves: why all the diversity? How did it happen that the Catholic Church has so many churches and rites? Why isn’t there just one church and one rite for all Catholics? Because historically, as the Christian Faith spread throughout the Roman Empire, and even beyond, Christians appointed leaders for their local church and developed different forms of worship and church law. These churches were all united in “one Lord, one faith, one baptism,” yet they expressed this faith in varying ways. Over time, these differences were formalized into the various churches and rites. I recently found a very helpful graphic which shows this development (click to enlarge):

Source.

The diversity of the Catholic Church is a wonderful thing. We finite humans cannot ever contain the many ways to worship our infinite God. Praise God for all the churches of the Catholic Church!

Today is the Feast of the Presentation, and also in America it is Groundhog Day. Last year I discovered that the two are actually related. Another name for today’s feast is Candlemas, and according to Wikipedia:

In the United Kingdom, good weather at Candlemas is taken to indicate severe winter weather later: “If Candlemas Day is clear and bright, / winter will have another bite. / If Candlemas Day brings cloud and rain, / winter is gone and will not come again.” It is also alleged to be the date that bears emerge from hibernation to inspect the weather as well as wolves, who if they choose to return to their lairs on this day is interpreted as meaning severe weather will continue for another forty days at least. In the United States and Canada, Candlemas evolved into Groundhog Day celebrated on the same date.

Yesterday, I mentioned in a post the importance of being “counter-cultural”. I can’t think of a greater way to be counter-cultural in our pleasure-first, narcissistic world than to practice corporal mortification, something which apparently Pope John Paul II did. This revelation about JPII (which really shouldn’t be very surprising) has raised the typical bewildered reactions from most people. Why in the world would someone voluntarily choose to sleep on the floor and even to whip himself?

Although the practice of corporal mortification has a long history in the Church, it is practically unheard of today. But it is simply one (albeit severe) type of self-mortification, which every Christian should practice in one form or another. Self-mortification is denying yourself some legitimate good in order to offer it in union with Christ’s suffering on the Cross. When your mom or dad said to you growing up, “offer it up!” that was self-mortification. We have been called to take up our own crosses, so denial of pleasure is part and parcel of the Christian life.

Mortification was central to the life of the early Christian. St. Paul in 2 Corinthians 11:23-28 gives a litany of hardships he has endured to preach the Gospel, and being a Christian for the first 300 years after Christ’s death meant living a mortified life leading possibly to a martyred death. But all of this mortification was not usually actively chosen, but simply a result of being a Christian.

After the legalization of Christianity, many Christians wanted to find ways to imitate Christ’s and Paul’s sufferings in their own lives. So many Christians – starting with St. Antony of the Desert – chose to engage in practices to mortify the flesh. By doing so, they desired to both be intimately united to Christ’s sufferings, and also to master their fleshly desires. This is the beginning of self-mortification among Christians: mortification freely chosen for spiritual benefits.

Today there are many ways to practice self-mortification which don’t involve anything like whipping oneself or other severe practices. One of the best ways to do so is at the dinner table. Turning down seconds, not putting butter on your bread, and drinking water instead of soda are all small mortifications which can be offered in union with Christ’s Passion for others. Another way of mortifying oneself is to allow others to get their way in small things. You are beat tired but your kid wants you to read to him when you get home from work? Denying yourself your desire for legitimate rest in this instance is another type of mortification. Other examples include fasting, taking cold showers, getting up early each day or even putting a pebble in your shoe.

But of course corporal mortification gets the most press, as it is the most severe type of self-mortification. Examples of corporal mortification include the “discipline” (i.e. whipping oneself), wearing a cilice, or wearing a hairshirt. These are all traditional – and legitimate – forms of self-mortification which saints have engaged in for centuries. But one important word of caution: NEVER UNDERTAKE CORPORAL MORTIFICATION EXCEPT UNDER THE DIRECTION OF A SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR! I can’t emphasize this enough; not doing so could lead to health problems as well as spiritual pride and an unhealthy masochism.

But we all should engage in some type of regular self-mortification. Discovering the mortifications that JPII underwent is a great incentive to us to take up our own small crosses in our lives and unite them to the Great Cross of Jesus Christ for the salvation of souls.

I guess these people haven’t read 1 Corinthians 6:1-11.

Now this is a story that I just HAD to blog about, as it combines two of my favorite things, the Catholic Faith and baseball:

MLB prospect retires to pursue priesthood

Grant Desme entered the 2009 season with an injury-prone past.

The A’s prized prospect exited the season with a head-turning presence, accompanied by a bat that produced 31 home runs and a speedy 6-foot-2 frame that stole 40 bases in Class A ball — making him the only player in Minor League Baseball to enjoy a 30-30 campaign.

An exceptional performance and MVP honors in the Arizona Fall League followed, so surely Desme was close to getting a call, most assumed — if not for a trip to The Show, then at least for an invitation to Spring Training.

Yet, Desme insists he’d already received the call long before his final at-bat in the fall came and went — the one that would take him to bigger and better places.

It just so happens it wasn’t what the A’s organization — or anyone else, for that matter — had in mind.

The call, Desme announced Friday, came in the form of priesthood in the Catholic church.

Here is the money quote, which is a great example of how one can know their vocation:

“As the year went on,” he said, “God blessed me. I had a better year than I could have imagined, but that reconfirmed my desire because I wasn’t at peace with where I was at. I love the game, but I aspire to higher things.

Even though Desme was doing something he loved and doing it in an extraordinary fashion, he was not at peace. I told this story to my own kids to give them an example of how they will one day know what their vocational call is in their own lives.

What I also find so amazing about this story is the timing of Desme’s decision. He is only 23 years old and he is leaving baseball right on the cusp of fulfilling what was surely his lifelong dream: playing in the Major Leagues. No one would fault him if he planned to play for at least 5-10 more years, then decided to become a priest. But God’s plans are not our plans, and when He calls, our response, like Desme’s, should be immediate.

We celebrate the power of The Call with today’s feast, the Conversion of St. Paul. No one could have predicted that the great persecutor of the Church would have his life turned around so suddenly, but when God speaks His Word, it is effective.

This also reminds me of a priest I know who told me he was called to the priesthood at the age of 3. And if that is not amazing enough, he wasn’t even Catholic! He had to wait until high school to convert, then he entered the seminary as soon as he could.

When we hear The Call in our lives, we only have one option: to respond in faith, knowing that the Lord will guide us down the right path.

Pray for Desme and all seminarians today.

It seems like the past 25 years has produced a rash of conversions to the Catholic Faith. Everyone, apparently, is a convert or is married to a convert. What I find interesting is that, although all the conversion stories have certain similarities, they are all also very different. I never get tired of reading how others have found their way, through God’s grace, to the Catholic Church. What often happens is that God draws people through what they already love, or, as the scholastics would say, “grace perfects nature”.

Fellow blogger, professional pianist and reader of this blog Andy Lee is in the process of becoming Catholic, and he details his journey in three parts:

Returning to Catholicism – the Early Years

Returning to Catholicism – Part II

Returning to Catholicism – Part III

I was especially moved by how the Catholic tradition of beautiful music helped draw him to the Church. Here are some excerpts:

First, as a point of clarification, let me explain what I mean when I say “returning to Catholicism,” as this is both true and untrue.  I was actually baptized as an infant in the Catholic church, though, to my memory, we never attended mass regularly growing up.  So technically speaking, I am returning to the faith into which I was baptized (but never confirmed), but for the most part am seriously coming to Catholicism for the first time.  And yet, despite this, it really does feel to me as though I am returning to Catholicism, even if I was never really there in the first place.

…I had a friend say once that Catholicism is the default faith for music graduates, and I could hardly agree more.  After learning about early music (which is largely the music of the Church), and brushing up on it for doctoral comprehensive exams, I felt like I knew about as most Catholics about what was going on in Mass.  This ties into my appreciation of contemporary Christian music because the more I was exposed to these traditions and the stunning music behind them, the less satisfying the music at our church became.  Again, this was just laying the groundwork for my eventual move to Catholicism, because at the time it simply felt like something that wasn’t clicking right.

…That summer, I also traveled with the Avila choir to Italy, which included a stay in Rome and tours of Vatican City.  I experienced somewhat conflicting feelings concerning Catholicism while I was there.  On one hand, it was hard not to have a strong sense of spirituality entering these beautiful churches, but at the same time I was turned off by the display of wealth and power that I also saw.  We attended several Masses, including a Latin mass in St. Peter’s and a small, intimate Mass at St. Mark’s in Venice (I should add that I studied Latin in college, translating sections of St. Augustine’s and St. Patrick’s writings at different times, so that Latin mass was very moving).  These were amazing experiences, and I once again found myself being drawn to the beauty of the Mass.  Then again, I also found all the statues and veneration of relics to be a little disconcerting.

Immediately after the trip, I probably would have said that I felt a stronger conviction that certain aspects of the Catholic faith were wrong, and that I could never be Catholic.  In hindsight, though, being further exposed to the profound beauty of the Mass in such houses of worship sparked in me an almost irresistible desire to be a part of it on a regular basis.  It was hard participate in the Mass (even if I could not do so fully) and then return to a church were contemporary music and video screens were the norm.

Try to find some time to read all three parts today.

This week is National Vocations Awareness Week, in which we contemplate the vocational call in each person’s life. In recent years I have noticed that prayers for vocations often include the following, “We pray for vocations to the priesthood, the permanent diaconate, religious life, married life, and the single life.” I admit that the addition of “the single life” as a vocation has always troubled me: is being an unconsecrated single person really a vocation? It seems politically correct in many circles to make such a claim, but I can’t help but think that such a life, while capable of including a saintly way of living, is not really a vocation per se. But as a married person, I felt it was improper for me to make such an observation publicly.

So I was very happy to see Catholic author and speaker Mary Beth Bonacci, who is single, declare that the unconsecrated single life is not a vocation:

[F]rom the first time I heard it, something rubbed me wrong about the concept of a single “vocation.”

Reading the Holy Father’s letter on women, Mulieris Dignitatem, reinforced my suspicions. In that document, John Paul II says that God calls all women to give themselves in one of two ways – in motherhood or in consecration to Christ.

No mention of singleness in there.

In fact, I find no mention of an unconsecrated single “vocation” in Church teaching anywhere. As far as the Church is concerned, it doesn’t exist.

Here is the problem: “vocation,” in the sense the Church understands it, means “to give oneself completely.” The Vatican II document Gaudium et Spes says that man finds himself only through a sincere gift of himself. John Paul II, in Mulieris Dignitatem, speaks of the “spousal disposition of women.” We – women and men — were made to give ourselves, in love, to others. That’s where we find happiness.

Don’t singles give? Of course we do – often more than most. But vocation doesn’t mean “being a generous person.” It means giving our lives completely to another – either to a spouse in marriage or to God in consecrated virginity. And singleness doesn’t do that. In fact, the single state is defined by the lack of that gift. We are unattached, un-given.

Be sure to read the whole article here.

In our overly sensitive world, we try to avoid saying anything that might offend another. By saying that someone else’s life is “missing” something, we appear to be judging them unduly. But the fact remains that we are created to give our whole selves over to another. For married people, they give themselves to their spouses; for religious, they give themselves directly to Jesus. A single person is not able to do this. But that does not mean that they cannot achieve holiness; on the contrary, their cross gives them a unique ability to do so.

Let us all pray for single people during this week of Vocations Awareness; not that they embrace their current life as a “vocation”, but that they might bear their cross lovingly and in union with Christ’s Cross and one day find their true vocation.

The weekend before Christmas, the Washington area was hit by 20 inches of snow. When I went to Mass that weekend, attendance was down considerably, probably only about 20-30% of a usual Sunday Mass.

I’m sure that many people could not make it out of their streets that day, but I couldn’t help but think of that low attendance when I read this story:

Heavy snows do not deter China’s Christians

Despite its being a working day in China and even with the obstacles created by heavy snowfall in recent days, it was with great devotion that Chinese Catholics celebrated Epiphany on January 6. The heavy snowfalls in recent days have not yet ceased and in some areas it continues to snow. The condition of roads is still very critical, but yesterday morning, very early, churches, chapels and other places of habitual prayers were filled with faithful attending the Mass of the Epiphany.

The pastors of Beijing had recommended for older people to remain at home and pray, because of snow, but they found the church full of older people for the first Mass in the morning, at 6 am, as usual.

In the early Church, going to Mass was a subversive action – attendance could be a death sentence. Yet if those courageous first Christians had not gone, we would not have the Faith today. It appears that believers in China are continuing this tradition.

It seems to be a truism that the more one must suffer for his faith, the more sacrifices he will willingly make for it. Let us pray that we in America recognize what a great gift the Mass is and will be willing to make sacrifices to participate in the Holy Sacrifice.

In the 1970’s and 1980’s many seminaries in the United States were lax about teaching orthodox doctrine and imparting traditional spiritual practices to our future priests. In the 1990’s the tide seemed to turn, and now it appears that our seminaries are in good hands:

The Pope has died. No, not that pope. The pope who died was Pope Pius XIII, who is more correctly an “anti-Pope”, which means he claims to be pope, but really isn’t. (Interestingly, the first known anti-pope ended up being a canonized saint).

You can read the whole sad story of Father Lucian Pulvermacher, OFM Cap. at his website which is tellingly called “True Catholic” . Fr. Pulvermacher was a missionary priest who ministered in Japan and Australia. In the 1970’s, however, he left his order due to his disillusionment with the reforms which came out of Vatican II. He tried to attach himself to other traditionalist groups, such as the Society of St. Pius X, but ultimately he determined that almost no one in the world was really a “true Catholic” like he was. Thus, he ended up making himself Pope of his own Catholic church.

As much as we might want to see Fr. Pulvermacher as some crank, we need to be careful not to fall into his schismatic tendencies in our own lives. Are we faithful to the Church today, or to a Church as we pictured it 50 years ago or to a Church as we picture it 50 years from now? God will not judge us on the reforms made (or not made) by the hierarchy, He will judge us on our faithfulness to the teachings of our legitimate leaders – the Pope and the bishops in union with him. How faithful have we been?

Be sure to say a prayer for the repose of the soul of Fr. Pulvermacher. May God have mercy on his soul.

Today you will know the Lord is coming, and in the morning you will see his glory.

- Invitatory Antiphon for December 24th.

This past weekend, the Novus Ordo Missae ( “New Ordinary of the Mass”), the Mass celebrated in almost every Catholic parish in the world, turned 40 years old. Instituted in the wake of Vatican II, this was the most visible change for most Catholics as a result of that Council.

The vast majority of Catholics have simply accepted the Novus Ordo and don’t think much about it. However, for some Catholics the Novus Ordo represents all that is wrong with the Church of the past 40 years. Other Catholics (and I would include myself in this camp) don’t have a problem with the Novus Ordo itself but do have criticisms in how it has been implemented in many dioceses and parishes.

The changes that have been most criticized are the use of the vernacular (instead of Latin), the priest turning around to face the people instead of facing the same direction as they do, and the terrible, terrible music heard in many parishes today. But, as Br. Charles points out, none of these things are actually required in celebrating the Novus Ordo:

• Benedict XVI is oft-quoted (from The Spirit of the Liturgy) on the theological and ecclesiological problems of the Mass offered versus populum. Many agree with him. However, though this option for celebration may seem to the casual observer to be one of the distinctive marks of the Mass of Paul VI, and is treated by many priests as a sacred and unalterable religious duty, it is neither essential nor normative. In fact, in the newer form of Mass, the priest is required to turn and face the people fewer times than in the older form. Thus, it is not fair to criticize the Novus Ordo based on troubles attendant on the offering of Mass “facing the people.”
• Analogously, though it may also seem that Mass offered in local languages is an instrinsic mark of the newer form of Mass, this is also an option rather than a norm. Sacrosanctum concilium 36 clearly affirms that the Latin remains the ordinary language of the Roman rite. Thus, it is also unfair to base criticisms on the use of the vernacular.
• Much criticism, and some of it justified, has been made against contemporary Catholic music that has grown up alongside the newer form of Mass. For most of us, the ordinary procedure for arriving at music for Mass is to contoct the ‘four song sandwich’ that will match the readings or suit our theme. This custom is taken for granted so much of the time that we forget that it is a matter of exception and substitution. The ordinary way of music-ing the Roman liturgy is to sing the actual texts of the Mass as they are found in the Missal and the Gradual, rather than substituting them for songs and metrical hymns. For this purpose, Gregorian chants allegedly retain their “pride of place,” at least according to Sacrosanctum concilium 116. Therefore, it is not exactly fair to criticize the modern Roman liturgy based on some of the bad music with which it has become associated, for this association is neither essential nor normative.

Thus, much of the criticism directed at the Novus Ordo should instead be directed at how it has been implemented. It would take no change in the law of the Church to change the celebration of the Mass to a more traditional, yet still faithful to the desires of Vatican II, way.

This is an interesting news story:

A Canadian bishop has suspended celebration of the Novus Order by priests of the Society of Jesus (the Jesuits), because the priests will not comply with a diocesan directive barring the reception of Communion in the hand. Bishop Frederick Henry of Calgary imposed the policy, ordering the faithful to receive Communion on the tongue, out of respect for the Blessed Sacrament.

Reminded that the Vatican’s Congregation for Divine Worship has said that all Catholics have the right to receive Communion in the hand, Bishop Henry replied: “I am well aware of what the congregation has decided but quite frankly, it is not their call. It is mine.” He said that the Jesuits would be allowed to resume celebrating Mass in the ordinary form when respect for the Blessed Sacrament returns.

This, of course, is not what really happened. In actuality, the Bishop suspended the celebration of the extraordinary form of the Mass by the Society of St. Peter because they will not comply with directives barring reception of Communion on the tongue (implemented due to the Swine Flu).

But what if the story had been the way I wrote it? How would your reaction change? Whose “side” would you be on – the bishop’s or the Congregation’s? In a situation such as this, where two legitimate authorities – a bishop and a Vatican congregation – conflict, it is important to look at it objectively and not simply with an eye to how we want it to be resolved.

Personally, I have made no secret of my preference for communion on the tongue and my disagreement with some bishops’ overreaction to the Swine Flu. But does that mean that I think Bishop Henry is outside his rights when he ignores the directive of the Congregation for Divine Worship in this case? Not necessarily. A bishop has almost complete authority in his diocese, the “almost” qualifier reflecting the Pope’s universal jurisdiction. But does a Vatican congregation possess the Pope’s universal jurisdiction in all its decisions?

Based on my reading of Vatican II and the practice of the Church throughout its long history, it seems to me that a Vatican congregation does not have such complete authority over a bishop. Catholic ecclesiology teaches that the Pope has absolute jurisdiction over the whole Church, but how does his authority transfer to Vatican congregations?

But my bigger point isn’t whether the bishop or the Congregation has the higher authority in this instance. What I think important is that as Catholics we do not adapt our ecclesiology to who we happen to agree with in each situation. It might very well happen in the future that the story I invented above actually happens. Then who will we support? No matter the situation, we should be consistent: we must accept the legitimate authority in this matter regardless of whether we agree with their position. It is easy to be obedient when we agree with the authority, but it is Catholic to be obedient when we don’t.

For my part, I disagree with Bishop Henry barring communion on the tongue, but I don’t think he was outside his authority to do so.

The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has produced an online Advent Calendar to help us all prepare for the coming of Christ at Christmas:

USCCB Advent Calendar

Check it out!