Who killed Latin in the Mass? Are you happy about it?

You shouldn't be. Read my latest over at Bravest Thing.

For Whom the Bell Tolls

HERE is my latest post over at the Bravest Thing.

I apologize for the confusion of writing blogs at another site, and then posting the links here. After thinking and praying over things (I know, I know, not exactly infallible, but we do our best), I decided just to give writing at a more formal location a shot. More specifically, at a website location where our children's pictures won't be plastered all over for the world to see. Now I can't just do my writing and then say "God, do the rest." That isn't right. I still need to do some of the marketing and self-promoting, if you will, to see where things go. The marketing aspect seems to be one I struggle with. And if it all becomes too time consuming and a detriment to the family, then of course I'll stop. But for now, please check out the link if you haven't done so already.

Rustic as a Search for the Divine

Frequently I take jabs from others for my "rustic" style. "Yeah, you just build shabby stuff and call it rustic. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to Ikea now... how divinely modern and inspired!" Just remember that when you point at me there are three fingers pointing back at yourself. Not too shabby of a comeback. However, not to make this too serious of a topic, I would like to argue today that young people who seek the rustic look in their homes are simply, in a way, seeking the Divine. There, nothing too deep or anything.

Rustic is from the Latin rusticus, or rus, meaning from the countryside. The rustic look is characterized by such items as barnwood, farmhouse décor, and just about anything that reminds someone of country life. "So... old stuff that looks beaten and shabby... right?"

Rustic is quite desirable these days. People, often younger, spend great amounts of money on items that are manufactured to look rustic. Wood is distressed. Metal frames are scratched up. Tractor seats are made into island bar stools. Some of these elements are simply ridiculous *cough* HomeSense *cough*. Others, particularly authentic pieces, do hint at a deeper yearning.

Take wood, for instance. There is a fascination with old wood. Many young people love the idea of wood that shows age and wear, yet has stood the test of time. There is a permanence, charm, and strength-filled structure to such material. Better still when the wood tells a story. Be it a piece from an old barn, to a piece from Grandma's old house, wood, as a rustic piece, can tell a story. I am certainly guilty of such sentiment.

I made a treehouse when I was younger. I was rather proud of it. As the years went by the tree house eventually collapsed under the weight of snow. I know I know, not exactly "strength-filled structure." Nevermind, I was maybe ten at the time. A couple of years ago I salvaged a piece from the old ladder I had built for the treehouse and made it into a chalk board frame. This chalk board rests in our dining area.

Or consider my old hockey rink. Countless hours were spent out in the backyard. Forty below or not. I swiped some boards to make a picture frame and towel rack. The towel rack still has black rubber puck marks on it. "How shabby." Perhaps. Though not to me.

Picture painted by Nancy Garez as a wedding present for Becca and I.

An old sliding door in our basement made from wood from our old horse lean-to. Yes, it's not new looking. It looks old and country-esque. It brings the country into the home.

Alas, let me return to my original thought, that being rustic as a yearning for God. I think of the Tridentine Mass. It is old. It has stood the test of time. Its perceived imperfections ("why does the priest cross himself so many times?.." tell a theological story. They speak a way of life that we too soon forget. That priest who crosses himself various times recalls aspects of the Christian life. The five wounds of Christ, the three Persons in the Trinity, and so on. The rustic style recalls a foundational life. One of farming, of settling a land, of hard work and virtue. Of permanence, strength, and Divine transcendence. Young people may not know anything about such history, yet they are attracted to this old, perhaps shabby looking, wood which yet seems so new and unique. So grounded. So beautiful. Though it is difficult to explain. Martin Mosebach, in The Heresy of Formlessness, does give a certain explanation:

"Artists in the great productive periods never concerned themselves with the problem of originality. It was when they believed they were venerating and lovingly cultivating an inherited great form that they created something new, something unique, something that had never been seen before. What is new, really new - not some cobbled-together experiment - comes unconsciously when an individual breathes new life into what is old. So it is in art" (p. 71).

 So the next time you wish to call someone's rustic touch "shabby junk," try to resist. There may be an unconscious search on the part the individual, and possibly some recognition, for Divine permanence. For what is true and beautiful.

And so, if you promise not to call my style shabby, I won't call you an Ikean iconoclast. Deal?

Conference Notes: The Garden, The Desk, The Village

This past weekend the Rebuilding Catholic Culture group in Saskatoon put on a mini-conference featuring well-known Catholic professor Dr. Ryan Topping, as well as local academics Dr. Celene Sidloski (organizer) and Dr. Charles Robertson.

Although Becca and I had to miss the Friday talk by Ryan Topping, which we heard was excellent ("Oh man, his talk yesterday was like... um... I can't even begin to describe how it was... he talked about jabberwockies and... it was so good..."), we were very fortunate to leave the kids at home with their visiting Ontario grandparents on Saturday morning and make the early morning trek to Saskatoon for the main day event.

And so, arriving at the event we immediately noticed a lady and several kids who looked familiar. "What in the world... no way..."

We were brought back to visions of this:

That was at the Whistlers' park while camping by Jasper. Our last night at the park a couple of families showed up. Becca and I immediately decided they must be Catholic. They were dressed rather classily (a little too much for camping?... or maybe they had just been at an event...). The ladies in skirts. The boys had comfortable collared shirts. The kids were playing at the park. I called to my oldest boy Joseph, and immediately one of the other boys perked up as if I was calling him. There were other names... Catherine... I think John Paul... you get the idea. And scapulars hanging around necks. They seemed very happy and full of life. Becca and I commented about them later that night:

"Ohhhhh they were Catholic! Big time! Did you see the scapulars! And they sure gushed over their little sister! Just like we do with Emilie."

"I wanted to introduce myself... but they were talking with others!"

"I guess we'll never have Catholic friends... poor us. God's just quoting the Ten Commandments (movie): 'Did you think I showed you them as a sign of what you will get? No, I showed you them to let you know what you'll be missing...'"

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the conference! So we walked in and, of course, there was the family we saw in Jasper. Yep. That was the Topping family. They were visiting another family that night in Jasper. I was kicking myself. I'm a bad Catholic. While I've read much of what Topping writes, including books and blog posts, I've only ever seen tiny pictures of him. In other words, I didn't recognize him in Jasper. Blah.

So we made sure to introduce ourselves to him and his wife. "Hi Dr. Topping! Pleased to finally meet you! You know, we've been following you around all summer!" We told them the story, of which they laughed in a creeped out sort of way. Interestingly, after many boys (six I think), the Toppings finally had a little girl (Catherine). The boys apparently were initially unsure of how to handle a girl. "Mom!... what if she wants to wear a bikini when she's older?! What'll we do?!" Clearly they love having their little baby sister.

- - -

Now for the talks. I will give points that I gleaned from each talk.

The first was by Dr. Topping on homeschooling as a means to restore Catholic Culture.

- To renew culture you must fortify the family. Hence socialism/Marxism loves to split up and control families. For Marx the family was the original cell of slavery. For instance, that women would have babies makes them unequal to men. They then must leave jobs (productivity) to raise the babies. Marx would approve of universal daycare as a means to fight this inequality.

- Homeschooling is a chief work of one's marriage. However, families are not to be isolated islands. Islands are meant to be populated. In other words, having large families and homeschooling them will attract others. I couldn't help but think of how we first saw the Toppings in Jasper. There was something different about them. Something attractive, in a transcendental way as if the goodness of God was present. I see this in other large families as well. Openness to life by its very nature produces an openness and attractiveness to others.

- Topping gave a longish definition from Gaudium et Spes on culture (par. 53) but then said it could be easily shortened to: "Catholic culture is a community which makes it easy to be good." Culture is to be everything whereby man improves himself. In other words, culture must always point to our eternal end. This can be seen in the ends of homeschooling versus what end a public Catholic school might have. Topping did not say that homeschooling is always better (though statistically, it blows any other schooling out of the water), but the end of homeschooling usually keeps the eternal in mind.

- A comparison was made between the four marks of the Church and, in a sense, the four marks of the family. Families are One by the sacrament of Marriage. They are Holy, that is set apart, in that families do things others can't, such as have babies. A family can be an island of holiness within a corrupted world. Holiness is the key though. A family cannot be Catholic (universal) and Apostolic without first being holy. One can't give what one doesn't have.

- The talk was excellent. Topping provided many startling statistics to back up his points. There's a reason why he is so highly regarded in the world of Catholic education.

- - -

The next talk was by Dr. Celene Sidloski on imagination and literature. Well now, this lady is brilliant, engaging, humble, and a treat to listen to.

- Imagination is one of our most potent powers, and forms images of what is not present, what will come, or simply creates images.

- The root of imagination is the Latin imago, or imitare - to imitate. In other words, imagination is to be rooted in something (the Divine).

- To the world there is no downfall to imagination because there is no moral context (no God). It is an iconoclasm of the past. The post-modern world says to not build imagination on what has been. Hence most literature university students, when writing stories, write terrible fantasy stories. The students have no basis for writing (not to mention terrible grammar - Sidloski pointed out). Only to create drab worlds with no morality. She even sang a bit from John Lennon's "Imagine". This song leaves us with only sky, just living for today, in some sort of brotherhood of man. Marx would be proud. What a drab existence. How ironic that the world's unbridled imagination is so deficient.

- Plato - images are intermediary. They are only put to use, for better or for worse. Think of the allegory of the cave.

- Saint Thomas Aquinas - All virtues require prudence. But prudence requires memoria, that is, memory that is true to being. Memory must be true before we can have prudence. We must discipline our memory. Sidloski did a great job of illustrating how a person can have a distorted sense of the past. So many people have a sense of injustice about that past. That, say, their childhood was terrible. This is often not the case (just ask siblings, she said). An undisciplined memory makes people live in the past.

- She spoke on how four o'clock in the afternoon, in May, with the smell of bread, makes her overcome with happy memories. It triggers memories of her getting off the bus as a child and having her mom's fresh buns. So often we try to recreate memories. This is wrong. Instead we must recognize the transcendence of the memory. That the goodness we remember was the good Lord present. Don't trust the memory. It is the transcendence we must instead long for. Ultimately though we are created in the image of God (immaterial), we cannot imagine heaven. Our Christian imagination must draw us upwards. And here, then, is the crucial point: Imagination must reveal meaning, not create it. The difference between Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter is startling. One reveals the transcendence. The other distorts what is real.

- Imagination is a garden which must be tended (referring to literature). You reap what you sow in a child. It cannot die, but only be maimed or distorted. So tend the garden of your child's imagination well, and they will recognize the transcendence of God.

- - -

The final talk by Dr. Charles Robertson was more of a technical, Thomistic overview of what was learned.

- Wisdom requires order according to Aristotle. And Aquinas adds that true wisdom is ultimately ordered to our eternal end.

- The modern utilitarian world considers speculative knowledge, wisdom, as worthless. Wisdom is priceless.

- Children must first be ordered in the wonder of God's creation (nature). The home must be an extension of the Holy Church.

- - -

Some final notes:

Book recommendations that I have read included Lord of the Rings, The Great Gatsby, Brideshead Revisited, The Republic, Nicomachean Ethics, Summa Theologica. Some books I need to get my hands on: Dicken's Hard Times, C.S. Lewis' The Weight of Glory and Abolition of Man, Pius XI's Divini illius Magistri, and even Michael O'Brien's Landscape of Dragons.

- Sidloski explained how Golem of the Hobbit/LOTR is a word used in Jewish languages referring to matter without form. Thus since Golem becomes a creature separated from what he is supposed to be, he is void of goodness.

- Overall the mini-conference was excellent and reinvigorating. We cannot wait to have more like this!

Regina Caeli

The Regina Caeli. Sung from Easter until Pentecost. There is a tradition that St. Gregory the Great, on his way to visit St. Luke's painting of the Blessed Virgin one Easter morning in Rome, heard some angels singing the first three lines. Thus inspired, he added the fourth line. Believe this story if you wish. I'm certain it is far more beautiful than any story of how Dan Schutte wrote his songs (I think that's what they are called).

I miss singing the Regina Caeli once the Easter season ends. Catholicism has a way about it. It cycles from season to season with just the right amount of time appropriated. Each season, then, is both familiar and new. "Behold I make all things new" is undoubtedly applicable to the liturgical life.

Though our time is fleeting, the "New" Millette Choir continues to sing. And then, like packing away our Christmas tree and manger, we will sadly store this treasure until next year. In the meantime, there are many ever new "old" chants to be learned and cherished.

Noise - Noise!

"Hi, I would like to set up an appointment to discuss renegotiating our mortgage."

"Dad! I broke your new hockey stick... on my friend's head..."

"Hey wife, you have beautiful eyes, can you get me another beer from the fridge?" 

Talking. It's how we communicate. It is ordinary. Nothing special. We buy and sell by it. Plead and Please. Scold and praise. But is it for Divine praise? 

Once upon a time the Mass organically developed into one of two things, either the quiet and prayerful low Mass, or the gloriously sung high Mass. Mass was either quiet, or it was sung. There was music, or there was silence. The Mass developed as such because both music and silence are set apart from the ordinary. Let me repeat, the Mass is set apart. It is holy. The words of the Mass must be elevated. Talk is cheap. We talk everyday. All the time. We do not chant all day. Surely we are not silent and reflective either.

Unfortunately the practice of either silence or singing (and I don't mean the ultra pathetic four hymn sandwich) is what our current Mass lacks. It innately is void of being set apart. It is not the quiet low Mass, nor is it the sung high Mass. It is neither. In a word, it is noise. Unavoidable noise. You can close your eyes, but you cannot close your ears. 

The great Peter Kwasniewski, in Noble Beauty, Transcendent Holiness, describes it as such: 

"Where have the chanted propers gone, the chanted Ordinary, the chanted priestly prayers, gone? Where has the profound silence gone? In a typical weekday celebration, 95% of the liturgy is spoken out loud, towards the people as an audience. It is talk, talk, talk, a wearisome march through the texts that are not even particularly notable for their literary qualities (unlike, in this respect, the Anglican Ordinariate liturgy, which is free to draw upon some of the best English prose every put on paper). No wonder it has so little impact on the soul [...] It is, as it were, neither cold nor hot, neither speechless nor lyrical; it is lukewarm - and we know what happens to the lukewarm" (p. 244).

What to do? Does Vatican II allow for, say, a quiet weekday Mass, or a chanted Sunday Mass? Of course, though it is unlikely. Are we better off by hearing every breath from the priest thanks to the almighty microphone? Does the four song sandwich, truly speaking, have anything to do with the Mass? Why are the prayers at the altar announced to us as if they were directed at us and not God? Is it true that Pope Francis once suspended a priest for not saying "Good morning sisters and brothers" at the start of Mass?* Can we not just admit that most Catholics are too lazy to put any real effort into making the Mass set apart?

Why bring this all up? Because I was reminded of a piece of writing I once read years ago. It was Fr. Hunwicke, who possesses a very British style of writing, whom recently referenced the famous passage from C.S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters. To quote the demon:

"Music and silence - how I detest them both! How thankful we should be that ever since our Father entered Hell ... no square inch of infernal time has been surrendered to either of those abominable forces, but all has been occupied by Noise - Noise, the grand dynamism, the audible expression  of all that is exultant, ruthless and virile - Noise which alone defends us from silly qualms, despairing scruples and impossible desires. We will make the whole universe a noise in the end. We have already made great strides in this direction as regards the Earth. The melodies and silences of Heaven will be shouted down in the end. But I admit we are not yet loud enough, or anything like it. Research is in progress ..."

You've perhaps read this before. Hopefully when you read it your mind produced the voice of a demon screaming hysterically for more noise, more commotion, more noise Noise NOISE!!! Indeed, as the modern 65 year old liturgist proclaims: "[sacred] music and silence - how I detest them both!" 

We must be willing to work for what is sacred. Because talk is cheap.



* of course not

Spy Wednesday

"Oh no!" I cried out to the kids, "I think Judas has been in our basement and left something behind!"

The kids: "Really?!"

"Yes! Let's go check it out!"

We ran downstairs. Sure enough, we saw a couple of silver coins lying around.

"Hmmm... if we find 30 then I'll bet it was Judas!"

And so the kids searched and searched.

In the end we counted up the coins and sure enough, there were 30 pieces of silver! We decided to give the money to the poor. To which Joseph asked: "Do we even know any poor people?" Sigh...

We then headed out to Mass. The boys' ears perked up when they heard the Gospel. Something about a conspiracy, Judas and 30 pieces of silver.

Catholic Culture Renovation: Palm Sunday and other Tidbits

A blessed Palm Sunday to you, if you are indeed reading this on Palm Sunday. Otherwise, a most blessed and suffering Holy Week to you.

We had our Palm Sunday Mass last night, and let me tell you we pulled out all the stops for it! Not organ stops (we'll get to those later). All the stops to get Emilie to behave. I was scheduled to narrate the Gospel, which meant Becca and the boys had to contend with the little "doll". Holy cards, objects, toys, treats... they lasted her all the way through to the homily! Later on I had the joy of chasing her around the church. That little girl can run when she wants to!

Speaking of the Gospel. As I read: "Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last," and then we all knelt down, John Paul turned to his mother: "Do we wave our palms NOW?"

Well we got through Mass. I stayed up late working with the palms. And we're stuck in Tisdale today. There's another snowstorm, of course. Following this storm will be a couple of weeks of cold temperatures. Highs of 13 below. Lows of 20 below. Not counting wind chill. We're skipping Spring this year, apparently. The Easter bunny will freeze his ears off.

Back to organ stops. Sort of. Before Mass our priest asked me if we should sing All Glory Laud and Honor, or The King of Glory Comes. I tried not to choke as I replied that All Glory Laud and Honor would be just fine. Here is a fine organ version of it.

There is a reason why the Church speaks so highly of the organ. Not the guitar. Nor piano. Nor even the theologically rich Trinitarian triangle. And this hymn, written by the great St. Theodulf, was created specifically for the great procession of Our Lord into Jerusalem. Fr. George Rutler, in his book The Stories of Hymns, explains that for St. Theodulf, a great defender of the faith was imprisoned for various false reasons: "it was the loveliness of 'Gloria, laus, et honor' that won Theodulf release after he was imprisoned on charges of treason against King Louis the Pious" (p. 59).

One final liturgical note as we enter Holy Week (ours has a birthday for a four year old in it!). The Collect from the Extraordinary Form on Friday was rather to the point.

"Mercifully pour forth, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy grace into our hearts; that we who restrain ourselves from sin by voluntary chastisement may suffer for a time rather than be condemned to eternal punishment. Through Our Lord."

Amen to that.

One final note. The boys have been keeping fit with me. I cannot wait until they get even older. I'll have spotters for my weight workouts! A blessed (with some suffering) Holy Week to you indeed. Remember, no pain, no gain(s).

CCReno: Brought to you by the letters Z and K

Have you been listening to Fr. Zs daily Lenten podcasts? Every day he gives a wonderful five minute audio presentation which is sure to benefit one's Lenten journey. I enjoyed yesterday's podcast. Give it a listen.

Yes, he quotes from the amazing Wyoming Catholic professor Peter Kwasniewski. It is a shock to go to a Novus Ordo Mass and simply have the Mass said. Why do priests have this need to start chatting? If I wanted to chat with you then I'd invite you for coffee. It truly feels like we are in a vehicle that keeps jolting and rocking on its journey forward. Or like watching a TV show that has commercial breaks every two minutes. It is not pleasant to say the least. We love our current priest in our town right now, but his chattiness at Mass (yes he has been told so too) is just suffocating the life out of our Mass. But it's not just him. It's everywhere. He's just following the standard practice. As I said, he's a wonderful priest whom we love. He needs guidance though, coming from the powers that be. I think it is clear that, among other things, priests need to be commanded to say Mass ad orientem. Turn around and face Jesus. Chat with Him. In your heart. Good luck with that however, if you remember what happened to Cardinal Sarah when he calmly suggested the idea.

Lately I have been enjoying Kwasniewski's book: Noble Beauty, Transcendent Holiness: Why the Modern Age Needs the Mass of the Ages. I will say more about the book at other times. However, I would like to give you a quote which pretty much sums up what it is like to go to Mass on Sunday, at least in Saskatchewan:

"Is it not true for a large number of the faithful, larger than officialdom would ever admit, that the Ordinary Form as typically celebrated puts a serious, almost fatal cap on our genuine 'active participation'? Far from helping us along the road to perfection, attracting us with its inner mystery and outward beauty, such a Mass is an event we just try to get through as quickly and painlessly as possible, hoping we will not think too much about anything we are seeing or hearing, and perhaps making a promise to ourselves as we leave that we will not loudly complain about it all the way home or over the pancakes. How ironic, that a rite so drastically overhauled and reworked with a view to 'reaching people at last' and soliciting their hearty involvement has, in reality, soured and repelled so many of the faithful over the decades!" (p.178).

CCReno: Beautiful Arguments on Sacred Music

I just wanted to make sure everyone had a chance to read an article at Crisis. It is written by a man I know quite well. He may or may not have perfect hair. Check it out here.

John Paul Meenan (of course... who else?) does a fantastic job of bringing Thomistic definitions into the argument (or rather Church teaching) for sacred music at Mass. A couple of snippets:

"Third [in speaking of beauty], and most foundational, there is clarity, that the being must signify and shine forth what it really is, in accord with its form or species. A knife is not a beautiful hammer, a mountain and a meadow each have their respective majesty and charm, and a man will never be a beautiful woman (Bruce Jenner, take note)."

And later:

 "I once heard a musician at the beginning of a Mass, with his guitar strung around his shoulders, announcing to us congregants that “it’s not liturgical music unless everyone can sing it,” a principle that would obviate just about all of the “musical tradition” of the Church, most of which is not meant to be sung by the people, but rather by those with the training and talent to do so."

Finally:

"Raucous, loud, and rhythm-driven music, perhaps fitting in other contexts like outdoor barbecues and tailgate parties for those so inclined, is not only unfitting for the house of God, but will create an obstacle and a distraction to the self-reflection and meditation required for true spiritual growth.

Only by returning to the truly transcendent music of the Church’s tradition will liturgy once again become beautiful as it is meant to be."

 It turns out Jimi Hendrix was ahead of his time when he famously burned his guitar back in '67.

From: http://www.nsnews.com/

Just read the whole article. Well done Mr., er, John Paul Meenan.

Photo from Seat of Wisdom website.

Catholic Culture Reno: The Mass

I was half-lying on the couch with a headache after supper when the little ones started setting up for Mass. I grabbed my camera and snapped probably far too many pictures. Truth be told, this posting is more of a For Grandparents posting then a true Catholic Culture Renovation one. There's nothing new under the sun here. Just some cute kids doing what I'm sure most cute kids in Catholic homes do: say Mass. This is not something that needs to be taught. If you take your children to Mass, they will want to say Mass at home.

John Paul with the setting up.

The processional.

Places everybody, places. I need to convince Joseph that Ad Orientem is the way to go. We need to get to the Latin Mass more often I guess.

If only John Paul folded his hands at real Mass.

Kyrie eleison.

Emilie trying to follow along in her Mass booklet. 

Oh wait, never mind, time for her to do the collection.

If parishes want more money then they should send cute kids around to collect the money. 

Look at this haul!

Smile for the camera Miss Cutie! Er, never you mind.

Offertory.

Where did the money go?

"Put 'r there." Technically the money is not supposed to go by the altar (can't serve both God and mammon), but we'll let it slide today.

Joseph says the Mass beautifully. John Paul is a great altar boy and usher/bouncer.

Oooooh! Incense!

"And cleanse me of my sin..."

"Hoc est enim Corpus Meum..."

"... Calix Sanguinis Mei."

Communion time.

On the tongue. Nice.

On the tongue too, er...

Consuming the remainder of the Sacred Species is always the best part.

Final Blessing.

Ita Missa Est. Wait! We're missing someone!

That's better. Go in peace. Thanks be to God.

Catholic Culture Reno: Salve Regina

The Salve Regina. The great 12th century Marian prayer sung by the Church each night at Compline. Of course it is often sung following the rosary (Hail Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy...), and I've heard it sung many times at the Traditional Latin Mass. At the Mass it floods my heart and soul each time with deep devotion. I never was in a seminary, but I can just picture how this hymn would be sung so beautifully by devout young males before they head off to bed in silence. There is a beautiful tradition where at a priest's funeral all present priests and bishops gather around the coffin and sing the Salve Regina one last time for their brother priest. It is truly touching.

I never knew the traditionally sung Salve Regina growing up. Latin was still too uncool for school back in the late 80s and early 90s. It wasn't until I went to Our Lady Seat of Wisdom Academy that I first took notice of the Salve Regina. Following our rosaries often my fellow classmates (and the profs) would sing it. At first I was a little perplexed. Maybe even I thought: "Wow, don't you guys think you're so special." But it did seem rather sincere on their part. And wouldn't it be nice to join them?


It was on one of my Christmas breaks when I was at home, and we were about to set out on a six hour drive to visit my grandparents, that my mom and some of my siblings decided to take the plunge. We were going to learn it on that trip. That was that. And you know what? We did! All it took was actual effort. So many times in life we simply don't put in the effort. I'm glad we did on this particular day. Ever since then I've very much enjoyed singing it.

Back in the Fall Becca and I started singing it following our family rosary. The first time we sang it our children smiled sweetly and cuddled in with us while we sang. They loved it instantly. We've been singing it ever since. Within a few days Joseph and John Paul were singing parts of it. Within a month they were singing all of it. We still sing it, though at times, as with our entire family rosary, the boys are distracted as Emilie tries to steal the spotlight as only a one year old can during prayers.

My point, Catholic Culture Renovation and all, is that you NEED to learn this Marian hymn with your family and sing it frequently. The Salve Regina is a great treasure offered to us by the Church. It is a source of deep comfort and intercession. It is noble and childlike. It captivates and frees the soul. Why are you Catholic? Yes yes the Sacraments of course. But what does it mean to be Catholic? For one, to be completely and utterly different than the secular world. The world says: "Do what you want." We Catholics say, in chanted Latin no less, "O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary." I consider the Salve Regina and think to myself: "This is why we're Catholic." To be holy. Set apart. And like little children. And so I urge those with families to pray this with their children.

The saints tell us to meditate daily on our death. St. Alphonsus Ligouri in particular gives stark images of how we could not even be buried in the ground yet and our family members will already be fighting over our estate. I will spare you the descriptions given by saints on how stench and worms start infiltrating our flesh. Such is the end of life. But when I die I do have one last request. That the Salve Regina be sung for me one last time. Not in sadness. But as it is meant to be, with childlike abandon to Jesus through His Holy Mother. For this is why we are Catholic.

For a different take, here's Pope Benedict XVI with his priests at a prayer vigil back in 2010. How he used to pack in the crowds! Dear Pope Benedict, how I fear your time is soon approaching. The Church has not been the same without you. It's been five years exactly. Dear Mary, "Show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus."

CCR (Catholic Culture Renovation): The Workout

Catholic Culture Renovations. At the risk of being sued: CCR. We are indeed fortunate sons to be Catholic.

Today's topic is a little off-topic. The process is messy, but the final thesis ultimately argues my soon to be trademarked interpretation of Theology of the Body *kiss bicep*. Catholic culture renovations require either saints or health. Rarely do we see a healthy saint, right? St. John Bosco was surely the last! No, to work in the Lord's vineyard we need a certain degree of health, and not bed-ridden families offering up heroic suffering all the while being entirely unable to pick apples off a tree and make a pie for a neighbour, or sing the Salve Regina with even a minimal degree of forceful recognition. Renovating Catholic culture requires strength. Holiness requires Catholicity. Therefore Catholics require strength before they can be saints... What? I lost myself somewhere around my last bicep kiss. Let's just jump into this.

Image taken from Amazon website

It would be entirely irresponsible to speak of a reno of Catholic culture without bringing in Anthony Esolen's excellent Out of Ashes: Rebuilding American Culture into the conversation frequently. However, I will strategically use his book to argue against my main point.

Esolen, I believe somewhat tongue-in-cheek, pokes fun at the very core of my Theology of the Body *kiss.... you get the point*... He attacks THE WORKOUT! Bah! Impossible! *jumps out of chair and does tricep dips* Let him explain:

"When the bicycle was invented, people used it to go places, even if it was to go someplace for the sheer pleasure of it. The idea of pedaling a bicycle that was riveted to the floor - that went nowhere -  would have struck people as slightly mad, or sinister. People had not turned what should be play into a form of work, and work that actually accomplishes nothing: it is work for work's sake, the 'workout'" (Out of the Ashes, 158).

He is not critical of exercise. Actually the very opposite is true. Yet he attacks work for the sake of work. It is as if he is saying: "For crying out loud, at least have some fun! Play man! How Puritan!" Why run on a treadmill when you can run on a trail? Why skate hockey drills when you can have the same effect playing a game? I do a wood chop exercise with my dumbbells (oh what a name...). Why not just, oh you know, go chop some wood? Same workout. One produces physical and mental/material results. The other wears out one's body, for the sole purpose of wearing out one's body.

To be fair, I don't think Esolen lives in Saskatchewan. You go jog into a 50 below wind and then tell me about virtues of play and being one with nature. I will stick to my basement workout regime for a good six months of the year. No, we cannot always play in order to gain physical fitness. Sometimes it is hard work. Yet Esolen is correct in suggesting that, wherever possible, we at least try to make it productive and fun.

And why, by and large, are opportunities for "play" unavailable? He explains:

"You do not feel comfortable sending your child outdoors to play. Of course you don't. You have no neighborhood, only a geographical area. You have no local school. You do not know any of the mothers nearby. Old people live far away. Everyone is indoors or in a sports corral somewhere. Small businesses are gone. Responsible people are never to be seen, because they are at work, both mother and father. They live too wealthy a life to afford more than a couple of children, so that you never have a sufficient number of children just roaming about to get going a game of anything much. The older people do not play cards with one another. No one visits anyone. Hospitality - your home's openness to anyone who might show up at the door, any day, any hour - is a thing of the past" (165).

Yes, somehow Catholic Culture Renovations unavoidably come down to having children. Giving them space to play. And playing yourself also. But alas my off-topic topic needs to be honed in. I speak of the actual physicality of the body being a great interpreter of the soul. Let me explain.

Body and Soul Working Out

There is a strong position of the Catholic saints that we must always remember that we are great sinners. To minimize our sinfulness is to minimize the workings of Our Lord. Once you think you're humble... you're not. Yet what if there was a way in which, on an introductory level, we could at least with some surety set our souls on the straight and narrow path? I speak of the body as a type of metaphor of the soul. Yet really and truly connected. Indeed,I work out every single day. I pray every single day. Would this not make me both fit and holy? Not even close.

Working out each and every day can present challenges. The body likes routine for growth, but not too much routine. For instance, I can work out my biceps using the same exercise. This will ultimately produce few results. But if I change even how I position my wrists for bicep curls, suddenly new muscles are hit, and better results can be achieved. Or suppose I work out every morning in a state of sheer exhaustion (which I do). Over time the workouts suffer. The results are snagged. Truth be told, one can even grow weaker if this is allowed to continue. The time and effort is, in short, wasted. The motivation is gone. Wake up! You're doing it all wrong!

Apply this to the soul. I pray every morning (and at other times of the day). I am dead tired when I do so. I can pray the same prayers, such as the rosary, but they can be stale if I am not careful. Do I put myself inside the mysteries of the rosary? Do I focus in on a different aspect of the psalms during lauds? Do I switch up my spiritual reading? There are so many spiritual masters. Am I aware of how easily the soul can be numbed?

Now let's combine the two. When I am physically sinking into a lax stage, I can feel the tug of extra dead weight on my body. Clearly I am not eating right, not sleeping enough, and not exercising properly. The slightest slip up in any of these three categories brings noticeable - and unwanted - results.

Hmm. Not eating right? Why? Connect this to the spiritual life... Am I not controlling urges for snacks? Am I taking too much food at supper? St. Jose Maria Escriva, I seem to recall, would say that to not leave the table with at least a small mortification is to have eaten like a pagan.

Hmm. Not exercising right? Am I wasting time in the workout room? Am I lacking focus. Being healthy is such a blessing. The opportunity to exercise is just that, an opportunity. Am I taking it for granted? Am I, as Esolen would suggest, at least trying to find ways to enjoy it? To want it?

When workouts, sleep, and nutrition suffer, of our own accord, I believe they can also signify a suffering of the soul (not always... but they can). Laziness, lack of focus, or weakness to mortify are not limited to just the body or just the soul. They belong to each other. Theology of the Body *flex* is just that... we can find God in a way through our bodies. Our bodies can reveal much about our souls. Not to say all fit people are holy. God knows 3 hours in a gym while ignoring your wife and kids is a great spiritual ailment, just as serving your family protein shakes for supper is, or not fixing the family van in order to spend more money on the latest Olympic weight set. But I still hold truth to what I say: while you may never know how close you are to God (holiness), your bodily workouts and well-being can give you important insights into whether or not your soul is ailing. Is it true in reverse as well? That's not for now to discuss.

Ultimately a Catholic Culture Renovation does require us to use our bodies properly, and yes Esolen, productively. To be healthy while we have a God-given opportunity to health. To use our body to help our soul. And yes, for heaven's sake, to try and enjoy the pursuit of health, with mortifications and all. For we are supposed to enjoy, i.e. have joy in, the pursuit of holiness, sufferings and all. The end must always be in mind: heaven. Not heaven on earth. Catholic culture is not about that. It's about leading us to heaven when we leave this earth.

I'll work out for that.

UPDATE:

Well I took my own advice, or Esolen's, and went out to our golf course ski trails. The air was just warm enough. An owl flew right in front of me in too. It was a great workout. And good for the soul too.

Though I doubt selfies are good for the soul.