MISCONCEPTIONS ON THE LIFTING OF THE EXCOMMUNICATION OF THE SSPX
(WHAT THE “LIFTING” OF THE SSPX EXCOMMUNICATION’S MEANS FOR PEOPLE)
Fr. John Zuhlsdorf
Source: http://wdtprs.com/blog/2009/01/misconceptions-what-the-lifting-of-the-sspx-excoms-means-for-people/
What the “lifting” of the SSPX excom’s means for people. I am seeing a lot of confusion in the wake of the lifting of the excommunications of the bishops of the SSPX.
Let’s get some things clear.
VERY LITTLE HAS CHANGED JURIDICALLY except in the status of those four bishops.
I hope that this has helped to change the "atmosphere" surrounding these problems.
The "lifting" of the excommunications is a first step in the long process that still remains.
Q: Is the SSPX now legitimate?
Not in a juridical sense, no. The SSPX still does not have the approval of the Pope or of a diocesan bishop. It is still a separated group, though these days many prefer not to speak of "schism".
Q: Is it okay for the SSPX bishops to ordain now?
No. The bishops of the SSPX are validly consecrated bishops, but the fact remains that they were illicitly consecrated. That hasn’t changed. They are still not reconciled with the Bishop of Rome. They are still suspended a divinis. They still have no permission to exercise ministry in the Church. They may not licitly ordain. They have no authority to establish parishes, etc.
Q: Are the chapels of the SSPX okay now?
Not in a juridical, legal sense, no. Many good things can happen in one of those communities, but the SSPX chapels are not, because of the lifting of the excommunications, suddenly made legitimate. They are not reconciled by this move.
Q: Are the priests of the SSPX in good standing now?
Not yet they aren’t. The priests of the SSPX are still suspended a divinis. They say Mass validly, but without the permission of the Church, either from a faculty of the Holy See or the local bishop. They do not have the necessary faculties to hear confessions and give sacramental absolution except in danger of death.
Q: Is it okay to go to chapels of the SSPX for Mass?
Yes and no. It is still not "okay" to go to chapels of the SSPX if you are doing so out of contempt for the Holy See or Holy Father, etc. If are are deeply attached to the older form of Mass, and it is very hard on you to go without it, yes, you can attend these Masses out of devotion. You can fulfill your Sunday obligation still, because the 1983 Code of Canon Laws says you do.
But the fact remains that these are still chapels separated from unity with the local bishop.
In my opinion, it is not a good idea to go to these chapels exclusively except perhaps in very rare circumstances wherein there really is no acceptable alternative.
Q: Is it okay to receive Communion at an SSPX Mass?
Yes and no. Yes… if you would otherwise have to go without the Eucharist for a long time because you are morally or physically impeded from receiving in a licit way. No… if you are doing so because of contempt for the Pope, bishop, Holy See, etc.
I don’t think it is a good idea to frequent and receive Communion often in the chapels of the SSPX. I think that undermines a person’s sense of unity with the Holy Father and the local bishop.
Remember: The lifting of the excommunications was a necessary step on the way to something better.
In his letter to followers of the SSPX, Bp. Fellay reminded everyone that they prayed that the older form of Mass would be derestricted, and it was with Summorum Pontificum. He said there was a Rosary campaign to aid the lifting of the excommunications. That happened today. Bp. Fellay now says that we must pray that the necessary talks with the Holy See can begin soon about theological questions. Amen. Let us pray.
So… folks… don’t suddenly get it into your head that all the problems with the SSPX have suddenly been removed. Nothing has changed about their status. What changed was the status of the four bishops: they are no longer excommunicated, but they are still in a state of separation from clear and manifest unity with the Holy Father.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
EXTRAORDINARY MINISTERS OF THE EUCHARIST
EXTRAORDINARY MINISTERS OF THE EUCHARIST
Peter A. Kwasniewski
SOURCE: http://www.ewtn.com/library/Liturgy/EXTRMIN.HTM
Perhaps it is a truism to say that in an age of widespread misinformation the hardest thing is just to get oneself rightly informed, this being more than half the battle. There are many who speak as though having authority, but all too often when you look closer, you see the blind leading the blind. A case in point, and a weighty case at that, is the now quite common practice of having a veritable army of lay people distributing communion at parish Masses throughout the world. While many Catholics have an uncomfortable feeling that something is not entirely right about the way laymen regularly assume ministerial functions, few are those who know precisely what the Church herself has determined about this matter, and more than a few who would be surprised even to hear the practice called into question. And if, on top of this, many false views are put forward as self-evident truths, we are back in the soup of misinformation. It is good to extricate oneself from this soup, seeing that the Catholic faithful have a higher destiny than to be croutons floating in the often thin broth of contemporary parish life.
In this article, I will summarize the standing discipline of the Church on the subject of lay Eucharistic ministers, quoting from the relevant authoritative documents. At the end, I will talk about why this abuse first took hold and afterwards spread like a contagion.
A note before we begin to go through the texts. In some of these official documents, one will find a well-elaborated theology of ministry, a solid account of the special priesthood of the ordained, the common priesthood of the baptized, and the distinct but complementary roles of laity and clergy in the Mystical Body of Christ. Interested readers should obtain copies of the documents in order to read these meatier sections. My purpose here is more limited: to gather together the passages having to do with the specific rules governing the collaboration of lay Eucharistic ministers. For, since this matter is a disciplinary one—that is, a matter of how things should be done—it is not absolutely necessary, though undeniably a great advantage, to understand the theology behind it. What is necessary, strictly speaking, is to know and abide by the Church's discipline, down to its last detail, whether one has the lofty understanding of a theologian or the foot-ready obedience of a soldier taking commands. A priest, for example, need not know why he ought not to wear only alb and stole at Mass; the crucial thing is that he simply not do it. The attitude our Lord praises in the Roman Centurion is precisely the attitude of unquestioning faith: I know what it's like to give commands, and I believe that you have the authority to give them just as I do over my men. A good pastor disposes himself towards the commands of the Church as the Centurion did towards the word of Christ; there is no need for lengthy explanations. Nevertheless, the Church always offers satisfying explanations for those whose faith seeks understanding, and these may be found in the cited documents. Even if obedience alone would be sufficient, it is evident that pastors of souls who are animated by a keen awareness of their high calling will have a persistent desire to learn about the doctrinal principles and will explain them to their flocks as occasion permits.
Fidei custos (1969)
In the heady days of the late 1960s, when the spirit of unbridled enthusiasm generated by Sacrosanctum Concilium was leading the Holy See to consider the re-establishment of many long-dormant liturgical practices and ministries, we find what is (to my knowledge) the first general legislation on our topic. After noting that those who are charged with the pastoral care of the faithful "may for the good of their subjects ask the Congregation ... to permit suitable persons to administer communion to themselves and to the faithful" (the Congregation in question was the Congregation for Discipline of the Sacraments), Fidei custos goes on to specify the exact parameters which justify a request for the granting of this permission:
a. whenever a minister indicated in can. 845 [1917] is unavailable1;
b. whenever the usual minister is unable to administer communion without difficulty because of poor health, advanced age, or the demands of the pastoral ministry;
c. whenever the number of faithful wishing to receive communion is so great that the celebration of Mass would be unduly long.
These reasons, especially the italicized phrase, are to be particularly noted, since as we shall see they are repeated almost verbatim in all the succeeding documents that address the topic, and are taken as the only possible reasons for the legitimate use of such ministers.
Immensae Caritatis (1973)
As this very brief section of Fidei custos had not proved sufficient to settle all doubts and questions that were stirring in regard to the permissibility of laymen distributing Holy Communion, the same Congregation four years later issued Immensae caritatis, which places this topic first among the matters it considers. Here we get a more detailed picture:
There are various circumstances in which a lack of sufficient ministers for the distribution of Holy Communion can occur:
1. during Mass, because of the size of the congregation or a particular difficulty in which a celebrant finds himself
2. outside of Mass, when it is difficult because of distance to take the sacred species, especially in the Viaticum, to the sick in danger of death, or when the very number of the sick, especially in hospitals and similar institutions, requires many ministers.
Therefore, in order that the faithful who are in the state of grace and who with an upright and pious disposition wish to share in the Sacred Banquet may not be deprived of this sacramental help and consolation, it has seemed appropriate to the Holy Father to establish extraordinary ministers, who may give Holy Communion to themselves and to other faithful under the following determined conditions:
3. Local ordinaries have the faculty to permit a suitable person individually chosen as an extraordinary minister for a specific occasion or for a time or, in the case of necessity, in some permanent way, either to give the Eucharist to himself or to other faithful and to take it to the sick who are confined to their homes. This faculty may be used whenever:
a. there is no priest, deacon, or acolyte;
b. these are prevented from administering Holy Communion because of another pastoral ministry or because of ill health or advanced age;
c. the number of faithful requesting Holy Communion is such that the celebration of the Mass or the distribution of the Eucharist outside of Mass would be unduly prolonged.
4. Local ordinaries also have the faculty to permit individual priests exercising their sacred office to appoint a suitable person who in cases of genuine necessity would distribute Holy Communion for a specific occasion. ...Since these faculties are granted only for the spiritual good of the faithful and for cases of genuine necessity, priests are to remember that they are not thereby excused from the task of distributing the Eucharist to the faithful who legitimately request it, and especially from taking and giving it to the sick.
When we read of "the size of the congregation or a particular difficulty in which a celebrant finds himself," it would fly in the face of common sense to say that the document had anything other than unusual situations in mind—massive gatherings where it would take an hour for a lone priest to distribute communion to everyone, or a health-condition that would make it nearly impossible for the priest to stand long enough to distribute hosts to all of the faithful receiving. It is taken for granted that if another priest or a deacon is available (at the rectory, for instance), he will assist at the appropriate time, and that when no such person is available, it can only be an undue prolongation of the length of Mass that might justify lay involvement. It is difficult to maintain that five or ten extra minutes of silence or good sacred music constitutes an undue prolongation. The liturgy is not, after all, an assembly line in which the chief aim is efficiency, making sure the gadgets move along as quickly as possible. A Mass that once in a while spilled over the clockwork sixty minutes might break the spell of utilitarianism under which almost everyone in the modern West is enchanted. Immensae caritatis also seems to take it for granted that a layman appointed to the role, after all other possibilities have been exhausted, will usually have it only temporarily, for some occasion(s) when his help is desperately needed. "These faculties are granted only... for cases of genuine necessity."
Holy Communion and Worship of the Eucharist (1973)
Issued in the same year by the Congregation of Divine Worship, this instruction repeats the teaching of Immensae caritatis in slightly different words.
“It is primarily the function of priests and deacons to distribute Holy Communion to the faithful who seek it. It is eminently fitting, therefore, that they should devote a reasonable part of their time, in keeping with the needs of the faithful, to this exercise of their ministry. Acolytes duly appointed, moreover, may, as extraordinary ministers, distribute Holy Communion when no priest or deacon is available, when neither priest or deacon is able to distribute it on account of ill health or advanced age, or because of the pressure of other pastoral duties. Acolytes may similarly distribute Holy Communion when the number of the faithful approaching the altar is so large that the celebration of Mass or other sacred ceremony would be unduly prolonged. The local ordinary may give to other extraordinary ministers the faculty to distribute Holy Communion whenever this seems necessary for the pastoral good of the faithful, and when no priest, deacon, or acolyte is available.”2
Especially noteworthy here is the timely reminder that, owing to their sacred office, "it is eminently fitting" for priests and deacons to "devote a reasonable part of their time, in keeping with the needs of the faithful, to this exercise of their ministry." In other words, for an assistant priest or pastor to sleep a bit later, eat breakfast, read the newspaper, or make phone calls in the rectory on Sunday morning while another priest with lay assistance distributes communion to a large congregation indicates a deeply flawed sense of priorities. Again, the phrase "the pressure of other pastoral duties" has to be understood in the framework of good common sense. A dying parishioner or an attempted suicide is one thing, a lighthearted chat with a friend quite another. The central point is well established: lay ministers of the Eucharist (including the "acolytes" mentioned here3) receive the name "extraordinary" precisely because they are to be used only in extraordinary cases of urgent necessity, when no other sacred minister is readily available. The priests and deacons remain, as always, the ordinary ministers.
Dominicae coenae (1980)
I quote the following passage from John Paul II's beautiful and meditative Dominicae coenae, published two years after his accession to the chair of St. Peter, not so much because it adds any details to the legislation—it does not—but rather because of the moving fervor with which he ponders the mystery of the ordained priesthood and its corresponding ministerial primacy, a primacy that must not be obscured by any blurring of the fundamental distinction between priest and laity.
“... one must not forget the primary office of priests, who have been consecrated by their ordination to represent Christ the Priest: for this reason their hands, like their words and their will, have become the direct instruments of Christ. Through this fact, that is, as ministers of the Holy Eucharist, they have a primary responsibility for the sacred species, because it is a total responsibility: they offer the bread and wine, they consecrate it, and then distribute the sacred species to the participants in the assembly who wish to receive them. Deacons can only bring to the altar the offerings of the faithful and, once they have been consecrated by the priest, distribute them, How eloquent therefore, even if not of ancient custom, is the rite of the anointing of the hands in our Latin ordination, as though precisely for these hands a special grace and power of the Holy Spirit is necessary! To touch the sacred species and to distribute them with their own hands is a privilege of the ordained, one which indicates an active participation in the ministry of the Eucharist.”4
While the Pope then adds that "it is obvious that the Church can grant this faculty to those who are neither priests nor deacons, as is the case with acolytes in the exercise of their ministry, especially if they are destined for future ordination, or with other lay people who are chosen for this to meet a just need," the purpose of Dominicae coenae as a whole is to stress the ineffable mystery of the Eucharist, the sublime and unique dignity of the priesthood, and the urgency of ordained men remaining faithful to the special tasks of their state, above all regarding the worthy veneration and handling of the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.
Inaestimabile donum (1980)
In the same year as Dominicae coenae and seven years after Immensae caritatis, the Congregation for Divine Worship once more turned its attention to the topic of lay ministers in a document called Inaestimabile donum, subtitled "Norms on the Worship of the Eucharist." The Introduction laments the distressing number of corruptions that have distorted the liturgical renewal intended by the Second Vatican Council.
“But these encouraging and positive aspects [of the liturgical reform] cannot suppress concern at the varied and frequent abuses being reported from different parts of the Catholic world: the confusion of roles, especially regarding the priestly ministry and the role of the laity (indiscriminate shared recitation of the Eucharistic Prayer, homilies given by lay people, lay people distributing communion while the priests refrain from doing so); an increasing loss of the sense of the sacred (abandonment of liturgical vestments, the Eucharist celebrated outside of church without real need, lack of reverence and respect for the Blessed Sacrament, etc.); misunderstanding of the ecclesial character of the liturgy (the use of private texts, the proliferation of unapproved Eucharistic Prayers, the manipulation of the liturgical texts for social and political ends). In these cases we are face to face with a real falsification of the Catholic liturgy.”
Although other parts of the document also touch on abuses in lay ministry, sections 9 and 10 contain the most relevant statement:
“Communion is a gift of the Lord, given to the faithful through the minister appointed for the purpose. It is not permitted that the faithful should themselves pick up the consecrated bread and the sacred chalice; still less that they should hand them from one to another. The faithful, whether religious or lay, who are authorized as extraordinary ministers of the Eucharist can distribute Communion only when there is no priest, deacon or acolyte, when the priest is impeded by illness or advanced age, or when the number of the faithful going to communion is so large as to make the celebration of Mass excessively long. Accordingly, a reprehensible attitude is shown by those priests who, though present at the celebration, refrain from distributing Communion and leave this task to the laity.”
As one reviews the magisterial documents, one notices an increase in what might be called a tone of severity—first, a fuller critique of the abuses in themselves, and secondly, a reproof directed towards those who ignore what the Church is asking for. Thus here we find the striking words: "a reprehensible attitude is shown by those priests who, though present at the celebration, refrain from distributing Communion and leave this task to the laity." No subtle qualifications are made to the statement; it is as bald as bald can be.
On Certain Questions Regarding the Collaboration of the Non-Ordained Faithful (1997)
If I may be pardoned for saying so, the Holy See is very Roman in its way of moving: things happen at a slow pace, with many siestas, in spite of the appearance of general hustle and bustle. One might consider how painfully slow was the official response to Martin Luther back in the 16th century; the time it took to form up a solid counterattack unfortunately gave heresy all the time it needed to spread. But even a lazy dog who likes to take life slowly will, if often enough provoked, snap to its feet and give a good hard bite. A bite of this sort in regard to the question of lay ministers was given in 1997, this time by the Congregation for the Clergy, in what is surely the most important document on the subject to date. Everyone who is involved in any way with liturgical planning or ministries should get a copy of this document and read it carefully.5 Promulgated, like the other documents, by the authority of the Holy Father, it deserves not only a respectful reading but a total adherence of mind and will.
The Introduction states the general subject of the instruction and insists on the grave duty of pastors, above all bishops, to implement the discipline legislated by the Church.6 "Though being born in very difficult and emergency situations and even initiated by those who sought to be genuinely helpful in the pastoral moment, certain practices have often been developed which have had very serious negative consequences and have caused the correct understanding of true ecclesial communion to be damaged." Later, after it has summarized the "absolutely irreplaceable" state and functions of the ordained priesthood, the instruction urges "a continuing, zealous and well-organized pastoral promotion of vocations so as to provide the Church with those ministers which she needs and to ensure a proper seminary training for those preparing for the Sacrament of Holy Orders," noting that "any other solution to problems deriving from a shortage of sacred ministers can only lead to precarious consequences." We are reminded that "all the faithful have a responsibility to foster a positive response to priestly vocation;" this is "especially true for those nations where a strong sense of materialism is evident."
Having said that pastors ought to be familiar with the principles behind the Church's discipline, Section 4 of Part I then makes a forceful general statement: "Therefore a consistent, faithful, and serious application of the current canonical dispositions throughout the entire Church, at the same time avoiding the abuse of multiplying 'exceptional' cases over and above those so designated and regulated by normative discipline, is extremely necessary." The document continues:
Where the existence of abuses or improper practices has been proved, pastors will promptly employ those means judged necessary to prevent their dissemination and to ensure that the correct understanding of the Church's nature is not impaired. In particular, they will apply the established disciplinary norms to promote knowledge of and assiduous respect for that distinction and complementarity of functions which are vital for ecclesial communion. Where abusive practices have become widespread, it is absolutely necessary for those who exercise authority to intervene responsibly so as to promote communion which can only be done by adherence to the truth. Communion, truth, justice, peace and charity are all interdependent terms.8
In Part II, "Practical Provisions," the, instruction reviews a number of particular matters, e.g., the legitimate roles of the laity in the reading of Scripture and of public prayers, parameters for Sunday celebration in the absence of a priest, and the apostolate to the sick9 Article 8, which addresses "The Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion," deserves to be quoted in full, with certain key statements emphasized.
The non-ordained faithful already collaborate with the sacred ministers in diverse pastoral situations, since "This wonderful gift of the Eucharist, which is the greatest gift of all, demands that such an important mystery should be increasingly better known and its saving power more fully shared." Such liturgical service is a response to the objective needs of the faithful, especially those of the sick, and to those liturgical assemblies in which there are particularly large numbers of the faithful who wish to receive Holy Communion.
§1. The canonical discipline concerning extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion must be correctly applied so as to avoid generating confusion. The same discipline establishes that the ordinary minister of Holy Communion is the Bishop, the Priest and the Deacon. Extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion are those instituted as acolytes and the faithful so deputed in accordance with Canon 230, §3.10 A non-ordained member of the faithful, in cases of true necessity, may be deputed by the diocesan bishop, using the appropriate form of blessing for these situation, to act as an extraordinary minister to distribute Holy Communion outside of liturgical celebrations ad actum vel ad tempus or for a more stable period.11 In exceptional cases or in unforeseen circumstances, the priest presiding at the liturgy may authorize such ad actum.
§2. Extraordinary ministers may distribute Holy Communion at eucharistic celebrations only when there are no ordained ministers present or when those ordained ministers present at a liturgical celebration are truly unable to distribute Holy Communion. They may also exercise this function at eucharistic celebrations where there are particularly large numbers of the faithful and which would be excessively prolonged because of an insufficient number of ordained ministers to distribute Holy Communion. This function is supplementary and extraordinary and must be exercised in accordance with the norm of law. It is thus useful for the diocesan bishop to issue particular norms concerning extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion which, in complete harmony with the universal law of the Church, should regulate the exercise of this function in his diocese. Such norms should provide, amongst other things, for matters such as the instruction in eucharistic doctrine of those chosen to be extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion, the meaning of the service they provide, the rubrics to be observed, the reverence to be shown for such an august Sacrament and instruction concerning the discipline on admission to Holy Communion.
To avoid creating confusion, certain practices are to be avoided and eliminated where such have emerged in particular Churches:
• extraordinary ministers receiving Holy Communion apart from the other faithful as though concelebrants;
• association with the renewal of promises made by priests at the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday, as well as other categories of faithful who renew religious vows or receive a mandate as extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion;
• the habitual use of extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion at Mass, thus arbitrarily extending the concept of "a great number of the faithful."
This carefully worded article systematically closes off all possible avenues for misinterpreting or misapplying the Church's discipline on lay ministers of the Eucharist. Noteworthy is the insistence that such lay ministers are, and must always remain, extraordinary. They are to be called upon "in cases of true necessity," "only when there are no ordained ministers present" or when those who are present are "truly unable" to give out communion. If the entire pool of available ordained ministers at a parish, chaplaincy, monastery, or other location of Mass is insufficient for distributing communion to "particularly large numbers of the faithful," then and only then is it possible that extraordinary ministers may have a legitimate role to play. Bishops are exhorted to issue particular norms "in complete harmony with the universal law of the Church": a bishop is simply not allowed, although he may disobediently choose, to issue norms at variance with the universal discipline of the Church. All pastors of souls are urged to take decisive steps to prevent and correct any and every abuse against this discipline. Among the "certain practices" which "are to be avoided and eliminated where such have emerged," forceful mention is made of "the habitual use of extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion at Mass, thus arbitrarily extending the concept of "a great number of the faithful.’"
An Admirable Lack of Ambiguity
The six documents we have reviewed indicate that nothing whatsoever in the Church's teaching on the severely limited role of lay Eucharistic ministers can be seen as ambiguous, except by those who play with language and ideas like the dark regime masterfully depicted in George Orwell's 1984. An example of this kind of deceitful doubletalk would be if a bishop were to say, "Well, yes, I certainly concur with the discipline of the Church on this matter, but as a matter of fact, there are young people in my diocese who are being trained to be responsible leaders in tomorrow's Church, and they need good practice in how to be reverent and responsible Eucharistic ministers—so I have given them a dispensation from the discipline, with a view to their pastoral education." The logic of such a policy is hard to fathom: if the institution of lay ministers is objectively abused in the vast majority of parishes, is it really a good idea to inculcate in young people the habit of cooperating with and perpetuating the same abuse? A thorough liturgical education emphasizing the distinct roles of priest and laity and equipping the students to reason peacefully with erring pastors would be far more in keeping with the manifest wishes of Holy Mother Church.12
Now that we have looked at the declarations of the Magisterium on the use of extraordinary ministers, it would be good to step back and contrast her teaching on this with her teaching on some other matters. For owing to complex causes often political in character, one does find in other areas of Church discipline a wavering between adherence to tradition and acceptance of innovations. The relatively recent case of altar girls offers a disturbing case in point, but we shall consider a different and perhaps more surprising example: the practice of communion in the hand. Not allowed to this day among Catholics in Greece because of the massive scandal it would cause to the Eastern Orthodox, communion in the hand was initially strongly opposed by Paul VI and by a clear majority of bishops in the Catholic Church in the years immediately following the Second Vatican Council. In the Instruction Memoriale Domini (28 May 1969), the rationale behind the traditional way of distributing communion is briefly discussed, especially in the following paragraph:
Quite early [in the history of the Church], the function of bringing the Eucharist to those absent [from Mass, e.g., the sick] was assigned exclusively to sacred ministers as a precautionary measure to ensure the reverence due to Christ's Body and to meet the needs of the faithful. With the passage of time as the truth of the Eucharistic mystery, its power, and Christ's presence in it were more deeply understood, the usage adopted was that the minister himself placed the particle of the consecrated bread on the tongue of the communicant. This measure was prompted by a keen sense both of reverence toward the sacrament and of the humility with which it should be received.
Some time prior to the promulgation of Memoriale Domini, Paul VI had sent out a questionnaire to all the bishops asking, among other things, "Do you think that a positive response should be given to the request to allow the rite of receiving communion in the hand?" The tallies were: 567 in favor, 315 in favor with reservations, and 1,233 opposed. After noting that "a change in so important a matter...does not simply affect discipline, but can also bring with it dangers that, it is feared, may arise from the new way of administering communion" (in particular, "the possibility of a lessening of reverence towards and even the profanation of the august Sacrament of the Altar, and the watering down of the true doctrine of the Eucharist"), the Instruction goes on: "The answers given show that by far the greater number of bishops think that the discipline currently in force should not at all be changed. And if it were to be changed, it would be an offence to the sensibilities and spiritual outlook of these bishops and a great many of the faithful.... [Paul VI's] judgement is not to change the long-accepted manner of administering communion to the faithful. The Apostolic See earnestly urges bishops, priests, and faithful, therefore, to obey conscientiously the prevailing law, now reconfirmed."
So far so good. However, the illegal custom itself, having been insinuated among numerous congregations by priests who paid no heed to Church discipline, eventually became established de facto, and the Holy See backed down from her policy of over a thousand years and issued what is technically called a "rescript." This means that her still existing discipline on the most appropriate manner in which to receive the host—namely, placed directly on the tongue by the sacred minister—has been suspended or rescripted for local churches. In short, and in spite of the clear reasons given in Memoriale Domini, the Roman authorities wavered and succumbed. The problematic custom of communion in the hand is now not only widespread, but almost obligatory and exceptionless as far as normal parish life is concerned. I remember my own first communion, when I was instructed to remain standing and receive the host in my cupped hands. This kind of unsacred training, coupled with extremely mushy catechesis, made it possible for me to remain in a state of total ignorance as to what the Eucharist actually is until about sixteen years of age, when in the course of reading a book attacking transubstantiation (given to me by a priest most notable for his sandals and shortsleeves), I became conscious, for the first time, of what the Church really teaches about the Eucharist. (For the curious, I should add that I do not have this book on my shelf, nor do I even remember its title; I do however have a well-thumbed copy of Paul VI's Mysterium Fidei, which ought to be required reading for every literate Catholic in the world.)
Now, this example is worth mentioning precisely in contrast to the Holy See's stance on the extraordinary status of lay Eucharistic ministers and the precise conditions in which this ministry may be appropriately exercised. Never once has there been a referendum to the bishops or a rescript to local churches regarding this, never once a sign of wavering or a submission to subversively established practices, in spite of the tremendous pressure that has been applied to Roman authorities to relax the stringent discipline.13 As can be seen from the succession of documents running from 1969 to 1997, the discipline never changes at all; on the contrary, it is stated with ever-increasing clarity and force in order to combat the serious errors in theory and in practice to which Eucharistic abuses have given rise. The documents that address the question display absolute unanimity and growing urgency in their confirmation of the existing regulations.
The Ultimate Source of the Abuse
If so large a number of the Church's pastors are downright contemptuous of what she authoritatively prescribes about the parameters of lay ministry, do we not sense that there are deeper issues at work here? Indeed there are. At the root of this widespread abuse is a dual problem, a paradoxical intertwining of two potent and opposed forces: clericalism and anti-clericalism.14 Put briefly, what happened in the post-conciliar period is that the Catholic laity, misinformed about what "active participation" means, felt (or their equally misinformed pastors felt on their behalf) that they must get more and more involved in ministry in order to be participating, in order to have some meaning in their churchly life, in order to feel special or privileged; so, when all is said and done, the laity has to become an adjunct clergy. The source of this view is a residual clericalism that has never gone away: only the clergy really matter to God, only the men doing things at the altar are holy, all the rest of us are second-class citizens, mediocre, dispensable, peripheral. Thus, if we want to be first-class citizens, and this is after all our baptismal right, then we all have to act like priests, because priests and religious are the ones who matter, who count with God. Obviously, it is the underlying assumption that is radically false, but as long as the association of "clergy-holiness" and "laity-mediocrity" persists, we will see a hurly-burly effort at getting as many lay people into the clerical functions as possible. In short, the clericalization of the laity presupposes a false understanding of the excellence of the clerical state. The intrinsic value of the layman in the world is quite forgotten, even though Vatican II sought to recover and revitalize this very truth.15
Now, what effect does this flawed perception of the "castes" of the Church have on the clergy properly so-called? They for their part have to be downplayed, sidelined, marginalized, to make room for the invincible People, the Congregation. An exaggerated democratic instinct distorts the rightful understanding of hierarchy in the Church. As a consequence, the Modern Roman Rite as it is often celebrated decisively "laicizes" the clergy. There is an obscure sentiment that if the clergy remain special, in command, set apart, consecrated to holy things, then the clergy will remain an exclusive clique, an anachronistic aristocracy whose heyday has long since passed away in the "real world." At the same time, owing to the forces summarized above, a contrary sentiment necessitates the clericalization of the laity because the laity only have worth, are only validated, if they are "actively involved," that is, doing what priests do. The height of the contradiction becomes apparent: the cleric has value only if he becomes a layman, and the layman has value only if he becomes a cleric. The insistence on maximizing lay participation in the ministries proper to the ordained thus has the long-term effect of blurring and eventually blotting out the distinction between the priestly office exercised in a special way by Christ and His ordained brothers, and the Christian priesthood which all the baptized hold in common. What all of this shows is a deeply erroneous understanding of the priesthood of Christ. To solve the problem will take not only obedience to the Church's pastoral discipline, but a serious commitment to learning anew the ancient and beautiful theology of the Catholic priesthood.
The Proper Response to this Abuse
According to the teaching of the Second Vatican Council, it is the duty of all Catholics, laymen and laywomen, priests, bishops, and religious, always and everywhere to make a "loyal submission of will and intellect" to the Magisterium of the Church in its entirety, a Magisterium expressed not only in the public statements of Councils and Popes but also in the documents issued with papal approval from the various Congregations. All believers are asked to give "sincere assent to decisions made by him [the Pope], conformably with his manifest mind and intention.16 "If the Supreme Pontiffs in their official documents purposely pass judgment on a matter up to that time under dispute," wrote Pius XII, "it is obvious that that matter, according to the mind and will of the same Pontiffs, cannot be any longer considered a question open to discussion."17 Bishops and priests, sacramentally ordained for the service of the faithful, have an even greater obligation and cause to conform themselves to the mind of the universal shepherd who looks out for the common good of the entire people of God.18 Once a definitive teaching is known, there is an immediate obligation to embrace it and follow it consistently in practice.
So many bishops and priests in the Church today are driven about by the winds of changing opinions and lack the peaceful stability that comes from assenting with one's whole heart to the unchanging faith and its authoritative interpretation in the Magisterium. But no good is accomplished for anyone if we confront straying pastors in a hostile way or speak badly about them behind their backs. If we are serious about living in charity, we must first of all pray for them, asking God to give them the prudence to seek what is right and the fortitude to enforce it in their jurisdictions. Only when we have done and are doing this, should we do whatever else is possible—again in a spirit of genuine charity—to help them see why they should abandon certain practices and adopt others that are more truly Catholic.19 And if, at the end of the day, our prayers and efforts seem to yield no fruits, we should never forget that even priests can have deathbed conversions.
End notes
1. The 1917 Code limits the distribution of holy communion to ordained ministers.
2. Section 17.
3. It should be noted that "acolyte" in all of these documents—in the context, it does not matter whether we are speaking technically of a minor order or not—refers to a man, usually en route to the priesthood, who is specifically commissioned to assist regularly at Masses as an altar server. The permission recently extended for girls to act as servers at Mass does not mean that girls, or for that matter, boys, are to be called "acolytes"; the term refers, as was said, to a man specially commissioned to fulfill a long-term office in the celebration of the liturgy. Ideally, the Church prefers to see adult men fulfilling the office of assisting the priest at the altar, as can be seen in all of the pontifical and in most episcopal liturgies.
4. Chapter 3, section 2.
5. It is available on the internet at www.catholicliturgy.com under "Communion" in the Documents section.
6. The document continues: "These matters cause the grave pastoral responsibility of many to be recalled (to mind). This is especially true of Bishops whose task it is to promote and ensure observance of the universal discipline of the Church founded on certain doctrinal principles already clearly enunciated by the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council and by the Pontifical Magisterium thereafter."
7. Part 1. section 3.
8. Emphases added.
9. It should be noted that the article on the apostolate to the sick specifically reproves and urges the removal of the custom of lay people anointing the sick with holy oil, an abuse found widely among charismatic Catholics.
10. Canon 230, §3 reads: "Where the needs of the Church require and [ordained] ministers are not available, lay people, even though they are not [stably appointed] lectors or acolytes, can supply certain of their functions, that is, exercise the ministry of the word, preside over liturgical prayers, confer baptism, and distribute Holy Communion, in accordance with the provisions of the law."
11. Ad actum vel ad tempus here means "temporarily, for a particular ceremony or situation, at a certain time." The distinction is between the temporary appointment of a lay person for a given situation only (e.g., a parish retreat when large numbers of the faithful are gathered and the priests are insufficient for distributing communion), and the stable appointment of a lay person to an ongoing ministerial function (for example, hospital ministry).
12. Besides, it may be added that the kind of education required to be a responsible lay-minister of Holy Communion in no way necessarily demands actual repeated practice in Mass. The most important element of this education is the theological formation of the mind and heart, so that, being made fully aware of the awesome responsibility of distributing the Body and Blood of the Lord, a lay person will not undertake this task lightly, when there is no objectively good reason to do so. The ordained are ordained for a reason: the celebration of the Eucharist in all its aspects (preparation, consecration, distribution) belongs to them in virtue of their very office and their sacrament of Holy Orders. If practice is deemed useful, it would be easy and far better to do it outside of the Mass, using unconsecrated hosts and wine, much as seminarians do who are learning to offer Mass.
13. There were, of course, rescripts in the late 1960s allowing lay people to administer Holy Communion; but we are talking here about the use of extraordinary ministers as though they were ordinary ministers. This has never been allowed, and that is the point of this essay.
14. We find excellent discussions of the problem in John Paul II's Christifideles laici (1988) as well as in the 1997 document already discussed.
15. John Paul II: "Full participation does not mean that everyone does everything, since this would lead to a clericalizing of the laity and a laicizing of the clergy; and this was not what the Council had in mind. The liturgy, like the Church, is intended to be hierarchical and polyphonic, respecting the different roles assigned by Christ and allowing all the different voices to blend in one great hymn of praise" (Ad limina discourse to the Bishops of the Northwestern United States, 9 October 1998)
16. Lumen gentium 25.
17. Humani generis 20.
18. See Leo XIII, Sapientiae Christianae 37.
19. For practical suggestions about how to deal with a parish situation in which the usage of extraordinary ministers has gotten out of hand, see Msgr. Peter Elliott, Ceremonies of the Modern Roman Rite (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1994), n. 787.
Peter A. Kwasniewski is Assistant Professor of Philosophy at the International Theological Institute in Gaming, Austria.
Courtesy of The Catholic Faith (Vol. 6, No. 6 November/December2000)
Taken from:
Sapientia: Newsletter of the Confraternity of Catholic Clergy © 2002
Spring 2002, page 13
Peter A. Kwasniewski
SOURCE: http://www.ewtn.com/library/Liturgy/EXTRMIN.HTM
Perhaps it is a truism to say that in an age of widespread misinformation the hardest thing is just to get oneself rightly informed, this being more than half the battle. There are many who speak as though having authority, but all too often when you look closer, you see the blind leading the blind. A case in point, and a weighty case at that, is the now quite common practice of having a veritable army of lay people distributing communion at parish Masses throughout the world. While many Catholics have an uncomfortable feeling that something is not entirely right about the way laymen regularly assume ministerial functions, few are those who know precisely what the Church herself has determined about this matter, and more than a few who would be surprised even to hear the practice called into question. And if, on top of this, many false views are put forward as self-evident truths, we are back in the soup of misinformation. It is good to extricate oneself from this soup, seeing that the Catholic faithful have a higher destiny than to be croutons floating in the often thin broth of contemporary parish life.
In this article, I will summarize the standing discipline of the Church on the subject of lay Eucharistic ministers, quoting from the relevant authoritative documents. At the end, I will talk about why this abuse first took hold and afterwards spread like a contagion.
A note before we begin to go through the texts. In some of these official documents, one will find a well-elaborated theology of ministry, a solid account of the special priesthood of the ordained, the common priesthood of the baptized, and the distinct but complementary roles of laity and clergy in the Mystical Body of Christ. Interested readers should obtain copies of the documents in order to read these meatier sections. My purpose here is more limited: to gather together the passages having to do with the specific rules governing the collaboration of lay Eucharistic ministers. For, since this matter is a disciplinary one—that is, a matter of how things should be done—it is not absolutely necessary, though undeniably a great advantage, to understand the theology behind it. What is necessary, strictly speaking, is to know and abide by the Church's discipline, down to its last detail, whether one has the lofty understanding of a theologian or the foot-ready obedience of a soldier taking commands. A priest, for example, need not know why he ought not to wear only alb and stole at Mass; the crucial thing is that he simply not do it. The attitude our Lord praises in the Roman Centurion is precisely the attitude of unquestioning faith: I know what it's like to give commands, and I believe that you have the authority to give them just as I do over my men. A good pastor disposes himself towards the commands of the Church as the Centurion did towards the word of Christ; there is no need for lengthy explanations. Nevertheless, the Church always offers satisfying explanations for those whose faith seeks understanding, and these may be found in the cited documents. Even if obedience alone would be sufficient, it is evident that pastors of souls who are animated by a keen awareness of their high calling will have a persistent desire to learn about the doctrinal principles and will explain them to their flocks as occasion permits.
Fidei custos (1969)
In the heady days of the late 1960s, when the spirit of unbridled enthusiasm generated by Sacrosanctum Concilium was leading the Holy See to consider the re-establishment of many long-dormant liturgical practices and ministries, we find what is (to my knowledge) the first general legislation on our topic. After noting that those who are charged with the pastoral care of the faithful "may for the good of their subjects ask the Congregation ... to permit suitable persons to administer communion to themselves and to the faithful" (the Congregation in question was the Congregation for Discipline of the Sacraments), Fidei custos goes on to specify the exact parameters which justify a request for the granting of this permission:
a. whenever a minister indicated in can. 845 [1917] is unavailable1;
b. whenever the usual minister is unable to administer communion without difficulty because of poor health, advanced age, or the demands of the pastoral ministry;
c. whenever the number of faithful wishing to receive communion is so great that the celebration of Mass would be unduly long.
These reasons, especially the italicized phrase, are to be particularly noted, since as we shall see they are repeated almost verbatim in all the succeeding documents that address the topic, and are taken as the only possible reasons for the legitimate use of such ministers.
Immensae Caritatis (1973)
As this very brief section of Fidei custos had not proved sufficient to settle all doubts and questions that were stirring in regard to the permissibility of laymen distributing Holy Communion, the same Congregation four years later issued Immensae caritatis, which places this topic first among the matters it considers. Here we get a more detailed picture:
There are various circumstances in which a lack of sufficient ministers for the distribution of Holy Communion can occur:
1. during Mass, because of the size of the congregation or a particular difficulty in which a celebrant finds himself
2. outside of Mass, when it is difficult because of distance to take the sacred species, especially in the Viaticum, to the sick in danger of death, or when the very number of the sick, especially in hospitals and similar institutions, requires many ministers.
Therefore, in order that the faithful who are in the state of grace and who with an upright and pious disposition wish to share in the Sacred Banquet may not be deprived of this sacramental help and consolation, it has seemed appropriate to the Holy Father to establish extraordinary ministers, who may give Holy Communion to themselves and to other faithful under the following determined conditions:
3. Local ordinaries have the faculty to permit a suitable person individually chosen as an extraordinary minister for a specific occasion or for a time or, in the case of necessity, in some permanent way, either to give the Eucharist to himself or to other faithful and to take it to the sick who are confined to their homes. This faculty may be used whenever:
a. there is no priest, deacon, or acolyte;
b. these are prevented from administering Holy Communion because of another pastoral ministry or because of ill health or advanced age;
c. the number of faithful requesting Holy Communion is such that the celebration of the Mass or the distribution of the Eucharist outside of Mass would be unduly prolonged.
4. Local ordinaries also have the faculty to permit individual priests exercising their sacred office to appoint a suitable person who in cases of genuine necessity would distribute Holy Communion for a specific occasion. ...Since these faculties are granted only for the spiritual good of the faithful and for cases of genuine necessity, priests are to remember that they are not thereby excused from the task of distributing the Eucharist to the faithful who legitimately request it, and especially from taking and giving it to the sick.
When we read of "the size of the congregation or a particular difficulty in which a celebrant finds himself," it would fly in the face of common sense to say that the document had anything other than unusual situations in mind—massive gatherings where it would take an hour for a lone priest to distribute communion to everyone, or a health-condition that would make it nearly impossible for the priest to stand long enough to distribute hosts to all of the faithful receiving. It is taken for granted that if another priest or a deacon is available (at the rectory, for instance), he will assist at the appropriate time, and that when no such person is available, it can only be an undue prolongation of the length of Mass that might justify lay involvement. It is difficult to maintain that five or ten extra minutes of silence or good sacred music constitutes an undue prolongation. The liturgy is not, after all, an assembly line in which the chief aim is efficiency, making sure the gadgets move along as quickly as possible. A Mass that once in a while spilled over the clockwork sixty minutes might break the spell of utilitarianism under which almost everyone in the modern West is enchanted. Immensae caritatis also seems to take it for granted that a layman appointed to the role, after all other possibilities have been exhausted, will usually have it only temporarily, for some occasion(s) when his help is desperately needed. "These faculties are granted only... for cases of genuine necessity."
Holy Communion and Worship of the Eucharist (1973)
Issued in the same year by the Congregation of Divine Worship, this instruction repeats the teaching of Immensae caritatis in slightly different words.
“It is primarily the function of priests and deacons to distribute Holy Communion to the faithful who seek it. It is eminently fitting, therefore, that they should devote a reasonable part of their time, in keeping with the needs of the faithful, to this exercise of their ministry. Acolytes duly appointed, moreover, may, as extraordinary ministers, distribute Holy Communion when no priest or deacon is available, when neither priest or deacon is able to distribute it on account of ill health or advanced age, or because of the pressure of other pastoral duties. Acolytes may similarly distribute Holy Communion when the number of the faithful approaching the altar is so large that the celebration of Mass or other sacred ceremony would be unduly prolonged. The local ordinary may give to other extraordinary ministers the faculty to distribute Holy Communion whenever this seems necessary for the pastoral good of the faithful, and when no priest, deacon, or acolyte is available.”2
Especially noteworthy here is the timely reminder that, owing to their sacred office, "it is eminently fitting" for priests and deacons to "devote a reasonable part of their time, in keeping with the needs of the faithful, to this exercise of their ministry." In other words, for an assistant priest or pastor to sleep a bit later, eat breakfast, read the newspaper, or make phone calls in the rectory on Sunday morning while another priest with lay assistance distributes communion to a large congregation indicates a deeply flawed sense of priorities. Again, the phrase "the pressure of other pastoral duties" has to be understood in the framework of good common sense. A dying parishioner or an attempted suicide is one thing, a lighthearted chat with a friend quite another. The central point is well established: lay ministers of the Eucharist (including the "acolytes" mentioned here3) receive the name "extraordinary" precisely because they are to be used only in extraordinary cases of urgent necessity, when no other sacred minister is readily available. The priests and deacons remain, as always, the ordinary ministers.
Dominicae coenae (1980)
I quote the following passage from John Paul II's beautiful and meditative Dominicae coenae, published two years after his accession to the chair of St. Peter, not so much because it adds any details to the legislation—it does not—but rather because of the moving fervor with which he ponders the mystery of the ordained priesthood and its corresponding ministerial primacy, a primacy that must not be obscured by any blurring of the fundamental distinction between priest and laity.
“... one must not forget the primary office of priests, who have been consecrated by their ordination to represent Christ the Priest: for this reason their hands, like their words and their will, have become the direct instruments of Christ. Through this fact, that is, as ministers of the Holy Eucharist, they have a primary responsibility for the sacred species, because it is a total responsibility: they offer the bread and wine, they consecrate it, and then distribute the sacred species to the participants in the assembly who wish to receive them. Deacons can only bring to the altar the offerings of the faithful and, once they have been consecrated by the priest, distribute them, How eloquent therefore, even if not of ancient custom, is the rite of the anointing of the hands in our Latin ordination, as though precisely for these hands a special grace and power of the Holy Spirit is necessary! To touch the sacred species and to distribute them with their own hands is a privilege of the ordained, one which indicates an active participation in the ministry of the Eucharist.”4
While the Pope then adds that "it is obvious that the Church can grant this faculty to those who are neither priests nor deacons, as is the case with acolytes in the exercise of their ministry, especially if they are destined for future ordination, or with other lay people who are chosen for this to meet a just need," the purpose of Dominicae coenae as a whole is to stress the ineffable mystery of the Eucharist, the sublime and unique dignity of the priesthood, and the urgency of ordained men remaining faithful to the special tasks of their state, above all regarding the worthy veneration and handling of the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar.
Inaestimabile donum (1980)
In the same year as Dominicae coenae and seven years after Immensae caritatis, the Congregation for Divine Worship once more turned its attention to the topic of lay ministers in a document called Inaestimabile donum, subtitled "Norms on the Worship of the Eucharist." The Introduction laments the distressing number of corruptions that have distorted the liturgical renewal intended by the Second Vatican Council.
“But these encouraging and positive aspects [of the liturgical reform] cannot suppress concern at the varied and frequent abuses being reported from different parts of the Catholic world: the confusion of roles, especially regarding the priestly ministry and the role of the laity (indiscriminate shared recitation of the Eucharistic Prayer, homilies given by lay people, lay people distributing communion while the priests refrain from doing so); an increasing loss of the sense of the sacred (abandonment of liturgical vestments, the Eucharist celebrated outside of church without real need, lack of reverence and respect for the Blessed Sacrament, etc.); misunderstanding of the ecclesial character of the liturgy (the use of private texts, the proliferation of unapproved Eucharistic Prayers, the manipulation of the liturgical texts for social and political ends). In these cases we are face to face with a real falsification of the Catholic liturgy.”
Although other parts of the document also touch on abuses in lay ministry, sections 9 and 10 contain the most relevant statement:
“Communion is a gift of the Lord, given to the faithful through the minister appointed for the purpose. It is not permitted that the faithful should themselves pick up the consecrated bread and the sacred chalice; still less that they should hand them from one to another. The faithful, whether religious or lay, who are authorized as extraordinary ministers of the Eucharist can distribute Communion only when there is no priest, deacon or acolyte, when the priest is impeded by illness or advanced age, or when the number of the faithful going to communion is so large as to make the celebration of Mass excessively long. Accordingly, a reprehensible attitude is shown by those priests who, though present at the celebration, refrain from distributing Communion and leave this task to the laity.”
As one reviews the magisterial documents, one notices an increase in what might be called a tone of severity—first, a fuller critique of the abuses in themselves, and secondly, a reproof directed towards those who ignore what the Church is asking for. Thus here we find the striking words: "a reprehensible attitude is shown by those priests who, though present at the celebration, refrain from distributing Communion and leave this task to the laity." No subtle qualifications are made to the statement; it is as bald as bald can be.
On Certain Questions Regarding the Collaboration of the Non-Ordained Faithful (1997)
If I may be pardoned for saying so, the Holy See is very Roman in its way of moving: things happen at a slow pace, with many siestas, in spite of the appearance of general hustle and bustle. One might consider how painfully slow was the official response to Martin Luther back in the 16th century; the time it took to form up a solid counterattack unfortunately gave heresy all the time it needed to spread. But even a lazy dog who likes to take life slowly will, if often enough provoked, snap to its feet and give a good hard bite. A bite of this sort in regard to the question of lay ministers was given in 1997, this time by the Congregation for the Clergy, in what is surely the most important document on the subject to date. Everyone who is involved in any way with liturgical planning or ministries should get a copy of this document and read it carefully.5 Promulgated, like the other documents, by the authority of the Holy Father, it deserves not only a respectful reading but a total adherence of mind and will.
The Introduction states the general subject of the instruction and insists on the grave duty of pastors, above all bishops, to implement the discipline legislated by the Church.6 "Though being born in very difficult and emergency situations and even initiated by those who sought to be genuinely helpful in the pastoral moment, certain practices have often been developed which have had very serious negative consequences and have caused the correct understanding of true ecclesial communion to be damaged." Later, after it has summarized the "absolutely irreplaceable" state and functions of the ordained priesthood, the instruction urges "a continuing, zealous and well-organized pastoral promotion of vocations so as to provide the Church with those ministers which she needs and to ensure a proper seminary training for those preparing for the Sacrament of Holy Orders," noting that "any other solution to problems deriving from a shortage of sacred ministers can only lead to precarious consequences." We are reminded that "all the faithful have a responsibility to foster a positive response to priestly vocation;" this is "especially true for those nations where a strong sense of materialism is evident."
Having said that pastors ought to be familiar with the principles behind the Church's discipline, Section 4 of Part I then makes a forceful general statement: "Therefore a consistent, faithful, and serious application of the current canonical dispositions throughout the entire Church, at the same time avoiding the abuse of multiplying 'exceptional' cases over and above those so designated and regulated by normative discipline, is extremely necessary." The document continues:
Where the existence of abuses or improper practices has been proved, pastors will promptly employ those means judged necessary to prevent their dissemination and to ensure that the correct understanding of the Church's nature is not impaired. In particular, they will apply the established disciplinary norms to promote knowledge of and assiduous respect for that distinction and complementarity of functions which are vital for ecclesial communion. Where abusive practices have become widespread, it is absolutely necessary for those who exercise authority to intervene responsibly so as to promote communion which can only be done by adherence to the truth. Communion, truth, justice, peace and charity are all interdependent terms.8
In Part II, "Practical Provisions," the, instruction reviews a number of particular matters, e.g., the legitimate roles of the laity in the reading of Scripture and of public prayers, parameters for Sunday celebration in the absence of a priest, and the apostolate to the sick9 Article 8, which addresses "The Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion," deserves to be quoted in full, with certain key statements emphasized.
The non-ordained faithful already collaborate with the sacred ministers in diverse pastoral situations, since "This wonderful gift of the Eucharist, which is the greatest gift of all, demands that such an important mystery should be increasingly better known and its saving power more fully shared." Such liturgical service is a response to the objective needs of the faithful, especially those of the sick, and to those liturgical assemblies in which there are particularly large numbers of the faithful who wish to receive Holy Communion.
§1. The canonical discipline concerning extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion must be correctly applied so as to avoid generating confusion. The same discipline establishes that the ordinary minister of Holy Communion is the Bishop, the Priest and the Deacon. Extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion are those instituted as acolytes and the faithful so deputed in accordance with Canon 230, §3.10 A non-ordained member of the faithful, in cases of true necessity, may be deputed by the diocesan bishop, using the appropriate form of blessing for these situation, to act as an extraordinary minister to distribute Holy Communion outside of liturgical celebrations ad actum vel ad tempus or for a more stable period.11 In exceptional cases or in unforeseen circumstances, the priest presiding at the liturgy may authorize such ad actum.
§2. Extraordinary ministers may distribute Holy Communion at eucharistic celebrations only when there are no ordained ministers present or when those ordained ministers present at a liturgical celebration are truly unable to distribute Holy Communion. They may also exercise this function at eucharistic celebrations where there are particularly large numbers of the faithful and which would be excessively prolonged because of an insufficient number of ordained ministers to distribute Holy Communion. This function is supplementary and extraordinary and must be exercised in accordance with the norm of law. It is thus useful for the diocesan bishop to issue particular norms concerning extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion which, in complete harmony with the universal law of the Church, should regulate the exercise of this function in his diocese. Such norms should provide, amongst other things, for matters such as the instruction in eucharistic doctrine of those chosen to be extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion, the meaning of the service they provide, the rubrics to be observed, the reverence to be shown for such an august Sacrament and instruction concerning the discipline on admission to Holy Communion.
To avoid creating confusion, certain practices are to be avoided and eliminated where such have emerged in particular Churches:
• extraordinary ministers receiving Holy Communion apart from the other faithful as though concelebrants;
• association with the renewal of promises made by priests at the Chrism Mass on Holy Thursday, as well as other categories of faithful who renew religious vows or receive a mandate as extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion;
• the habitual use of extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion at Mass, thus arbitrarily extending the concept of "a great number of the faithful."
This carefully worded article systematically closes off all possible avenues for misinterpreting or misapplying the Church's discipline on lay ministers of the Eucharist. Noteworthy is the insistence that such lay ministers are, and must always remain, extraordinary. They are to be called upon "in cases of true necessity," "only when there are no ordained ministers present" or when those who are present are "truly unable" to give out communion. If the entire pool of available ordained ministers at a parish, chaplaincy, monastery, or other location of Mass is insufficient for distributing communion to "particularly large numbers of the faithful," then and only then is it possible that extraordinary ministers may have a legitimate role to play. Bishops are exhorted to issue particular norms "in complete harmony with the universal law of the Church": a bishop is simply not allowed, although he may disobediently choose, to issue norms at variance with the universal discipline of the Church. All pastors of souls are urged to take decisive steps to prevent and correct any and every abuse against this discipline. Among the "certain practices" which "are to be avoided and eliminated where such have emerged," forceful mention is made of "the habitual use of extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion at Mass, thus arbitrarily extending the concept of "a great number of the faithful.’"
An Admirable Lack of Ambiguity
The six documents we have reviewed indicate that nothing whatsoever in the Church's teaching on the severely limited role of lay Eucharistic ministers can be seen as ambiguous, except by those who play with language and ideas like the dark regime masterfully depicted in George Orwell's 1984. An example of this kind of deceitful doubletalk would be if a bishop were to say, "Well, yes, I certainly concur with the discipline of the Church on this matter, but as a matter of fact, there are young people in my diocese who are being trained to be responsible leaders in tomorrow's Church, and they need good practice in how to be reverent and responsible Eucharistic ministers—so I have given them a dispensation from the discipline, with a view to their pastoral education." The logic of such a policy is hard to fathom: if the institution of lay ministers is objectively abused in the vast majority of parishes, is it really a good idea to inculcate in young people the habit of cooperating with and perpetuating the same abuse? A thorough liturgical education emphasizing the distinct roles of priest and laity and equipping the students to reason peacefully with erring pastors would be far more in keeping with the manifest wishes of Holy Mother Church.12
Now that we have looked at the declarations of the Magisterium on the use of extraordinary ministers, it would be good to step back and contrast her teaching on this with her teaching on some other matters. For owing to complex causes often political in character, one does find in other areas of Church discipline a wavering between adherence to tradition and acceptance of innovations. The relatively recent case of altar girls offers a disturbing case in point, but we shall consider a different and perhaps more surprising example: the practice of communion in the hand. Not allowed to this day among Catholics in Greece because of the massive scandal it would cause to the Eastern Orthodox, communion in the hand was initially strongly opposed by Paul VI and by a clear majority of bishops in the Catholic Church in the years immediately following the Second Vatican Council. In the Instruction Memoriale Domini (28 May 1969), the rationale behind the traditional way of distributing communion is briefly discussed, especially in the following paragraph:
Quite early [in the history of the Church], the function of bringing the Eucharist to those absent [from Mass, e.g., the sick] was assigned exclusively to sacred ministers as a precautionary measure to ensure the reverence due to Christ's Body and to meet the needs of the faithful. With the passage of time as the truth of the Eucharistic mystery, its power, and Christ's presence in it were more deeply understood, the usage adopted was that the minister himself placed the particle of the consecrated bread on the tongue of the communicant. This measure was prompted by a keen sense both of reverence toward the sacrament and of the humility with which it should be received.
Some time prior to the promulgation of Memoriale Domini, Paul VI had sent out a questionnaire to all the bishops asking, among other things, "Do you think that a positive response should be given to the request to allow the rite of receiving communion in the hand?" The tallies were: 567 in favor, 315 in favor with reservations, and 1,233 opposed. After noting that "a change in so important a matter...does not simply affect discipline, but can also bring with it dangers that, it is feared, may arise from the new way of administering communion" (in particular, "the possibility of a lessening of reverence towards and even the profanation of the august Sacrament of the Altar, and the watering down of the true doctrine of the Eucharist"), the Instruction goes on: "The answers given show that by far the greater number of bishops think that the discipline currently in force should not at all be changed. And if it were to be changed, it would be an offence to the sensibilities and spiritual outlook of these bishops and a great many of the faithful.... [Paul VI's] judgement is not to change the long-accepted manner of administering communion to the faithful. The Apostolic See earnestly urges bishops, priests, and faithful, therefore, to obey conscientiously the prevailing law, now reconfirmed."
So far so good. However, the illegal custom itself, having been insinuated among numerous congregations by priests who paid no heed to Church discipline, eventually became established de facto, and the Holy See backed down from her policy of over a thousand years and issued what is technically called a "rescript." This means that her still existing discipline on the most appropriate manner in which to receive the host—namely, placed directly on the tongue by the sacred minister—has been suspended or rescripted for local churches. In short, and in spite of the clear reasons given in Memoriale Domini, the Roman authorities wavered and succumbed. The problematic custom of communion in the hand is now not only widespread, but almost obligatory and exceptionless as far as normal parish life is concerned. I remember my own first communion, when I was instructed to remain standing and receive the host in my cupped hands. This kind of unsacred training, coupled with extremely mushy catechesis, made it possible for me to remain in a state of total ignorance as to what the Eucharist actually is until about sixteen years of age, when in the course of reading a book attacking transubstantiation (given to me by a priest most notable for his sandals and shortsleeves), I became conscious, for the first time, of what the Church really teaches about the Eucharist. (For the curious, I should add that I do not have this book on my shelf, nor do I even remember its title; I do however have a well-thumbed copy of Paul VI's Mysterium Fidei, which ought to be required reading for every literate Catholic in the world.)
Now, this example is worth mentioning precisely in contrast to the Holy See's stance on the extraordinary status of lay Eucharistic ministers and the precise conditions in which this ministry may be appropriately exercised. Never once has there been a referendum to the bishops or a rescript to local churches regarding this, never once a sign of wavering or a submission to subversively established practices, in spite of the tremendous pressure that has been applied to Roman authorities to relax the stringent discipline.13 As can be seen from the succession of documents running from 1969 to 1997, the discipline never changes at all; on the contrary, it is stated with ever-increasing clarity and force in order to combat the serious errors in theory and in practice to which Eucharistic abuses have given rise. The documents that address the question display absolute unanimity and growing urgency in their confirmation of the existing regulations.
The Ultimate Source of the Abuse
If so large a number of the Church's pastors are downright contemptuous of what she authoritatively prescribes about the parameters of lay ministry, do we not sense that there are deeper issues at work here? Indeed there are. At the root of this widespread abuse is a dual problem, a paradoxical intertwining of two potent and opposed forces: clericalism and anti-clericalism.14 Put briefly, what happened in the post-conciliar period is that the Catholic laity, misinformed about what "active participation" means, felt (or their equally misinformed pastors felt on their behalf) that they must get more and more involved in ministry in order to be participating, in order to have some meaning in their churchly life, in order to feel special or privileged; so, when all is said and done, the laity has to become an adjunct clergy. The source of this view is a residual clericalism that has never gone away: only the clergy really matter to God, only the men doing things at the altar are holy, all the rest of us are second-class citizens, mediocre, dispensable, peripheral. Thus, if we want to be first-class citizens, and this is after all our baptismal right, then we all have to act like priests, because priests and religious are the ones who matter, who count with God. Obviously, it is the underlying assumption that is radically false, but as long as the association of "clergy-holiness" and "laity-mediocrity" persists, we will see a hurly-burly effort at getting as many lay people into the clerical functions as possible. In short, the clericalization of the laity presupposes a false understanding of the excellence of the clerical state. The intrinsic value of the layman in the world is quite forgotten, even though Vatican II sought to recover and revitalize this very truth.15
Now, what effect does this flawed perception of the "castes" of the Church have on the clergy properly so-called? They for their part have to be downplayed, sidelined, marginalized, to make room for the invincible People, the Congregation. An exaggerated democratic instinct distorts the rightful understanding of hierarchy in the Church. As a consequence, the Modern Roman Rite as it is often celebrated decisively "laicizes" the clergy. There is an obscure sentiment that if the clergy remain special, in command, set apart, consecrated to holy things, then the clergy will remain an exclusive clique, an anachronistic aristocracy whose heyday has long since passed away in the "real world." At the same time, owing to the forces summarized above, a contrary sentiment necessitates the clericalization of the laity because the laity only have worth, are only validated, if they are "actively involved," that is, doing what priests do. The height of the contradiction becomes apparent: the cleric has value only if he becomes a layman, and the layman has value only if he becomes a cleric. The insistence on maximizing lay participation in the ministries proper to the ordained thus has the long-term effect of blurring and eventually blotting out the distinction between the priestly office exercised in a special way by Christ and His ordained brothers, and the Christian priesthood which all the baptized hold in common. What all of this shows is a deeply erroneous understanding of the priesthood of Christ. To solve the problem will take not only obedience to the Church's pastoral discipline, but a serious commitment to learning anew the ancient and beautiful theology of the Catholic priesthood.
The Proper Response to this Abuse
According to the teaching of the Second Vatican Council, it is the duty of all Catholics, laymen and laywomen, priests, bishops, and religious, always and everywhere to make a "loyal submission of will and intellect" to the Magisterium of the Church in its entirety, a Magisterium expressed not only in the public statements of Councils and Popes but also in the documents issued with papal approval from the various Congregations. All believers are asked to give "sincere assent to decisions made by him [the Pope], conformably with his manifest mind and intention.16 "If the Supreme Pontiffs in their official documents purposely pass judgment on a matter up to that time under dispute," wrote Pius XII, "it is obvious that that matter, according to the mind and will of the same Pontiffs, cannot be any longer considered a question open to discussion."17 Bishops and priests, sacramentally ordained for the service of the faithful, have an even greater obligation and cause to conform themselves to the mind of the universal shepherd who looks out for the common good of the entire people of God.18 Once a definitive teaching is known, there is an immediate obligation to embrace it and follow it consistently in practice.
So many bishops and priests in the Church today are driven about by the winds of changing opinions and lack the peaceful stability that comes from assenting with one's whole heart to the unchanging faith and its authoritative interpretation in the Magisterium. But no good is accomplished for anyone if we confront straying pastors in a hostile way or speak badly about them behind their backs. If we are serious about living in charity, we must first of all pray for them, asking God to give them the prudence to seek what is right and the fortitude to enforce it in their jurisdictions. Only when we have done and are doing this, should we do whatever else is possible—again in a spirit of genuine charity—to help them see why they should abandon certain practices and adopt others that are more truly Catholic.19 And if, at the end of the day, our prayers and efforts seem to yield no fruits, we should never forget that even priests can have deathbed conversions.
End notes
1. The 1917 Code limits the distribution of holy communion to ordained ministers.
2. Section 17.
3. It should be noted that "acolyte" in all of these documents—in the context, it does not matter whether we are speaking technically of a minor order or not—refers to a man, usually en route to the priesthood, who is specifically commissioned to assist regularly at Masses as an altar server. The permission recently extended for girls to act as servers at Mass does not mean that girls, or for that matter, boys, are to be called "acolytes"; the term refers, as was said, to a man specially commissioned to fulfill a long-term office in the celebration of the liturgy. Ideally, the Church prefers to see adult men fulfilling the office of assisting the priest at the altar, as can be seen in all of the pontifical and in most episcopal liturgies.
4. Chapter 3, section 2.
5. It is available on the internet at www.catholicliturgy.com under "Communion" in the Documents section.
6. The document continues: "These matters cause the grave pastoral responsibility of many to be recalled (to mind). This is especially true of Bishops whose task it is to promote and ensure observance of the universal discipline of the Church founded on certain doctrinal principles already clearly enunciated by the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council and by the Pontifical Magisterium thereafter."
7. Part 1. section 3.
8. Emphases added.
9. It should be noted that the article on the apostolate to the sick specifically reproves and urges the removal of the custom of lay people anointing the sick with holy oil, an abuse found widely among charismatic Catholics.
10. Canon 230, §3 reads: "Where the needs of the Church require and [ordained] ministers are not available, lay people, even though they are not [stably appointed] lectors or acolytes, can supply certain of their functions, that is, exercise the ministry of the word, preside over liturgical prayers, confer baptism, and distribute Holy Communion, in accordance with the provisions of the law."
11. Ad actum vel ad tempus here means "temporarily, for a particular ceremony or situation, at a certain time." The distinction is between the temporary appointment of a lay person for a given situation only (e.g., a parish retreat when large numbers of the faithful are gathered and the priests are insufficient for distributing communion), and the stable appointment of a lay person to an ongoing ministerial function (for example, hospital ministry).
12. Besides, it may be added that the kind of education required to be a responsible lay-minister of Holy Communion in no way necessarily demands actual repeated practice in Mass. The most important element of this education is the theological formation of the mind and heart, so that, being made fully aware of the awesome responsibility of distributing the Body and Blood of the Lord, a lay person will not undertake this task lightly, when there is no objectively good reason to do so. The ordained are ordained for a reason: the celebration of the Eucharist in all its aspects (preparation, consecration, distribution) belongs to them in virtue of their very office and their sacrament of Holy Orders. If practice is deemed useful, it would be easy and far better to do it outside of the Mass, using unconsecrated hosts and wine, much as seminarians do who are learning to offer Mass.
13. There were, of course, rescripts in the late 1960s allowing lay people to administer Holy Communion; but we are talking here about the use of extraordinary ministers as though they were ordinary ministers. This has never been allowed, and that is the point of this essay.
14. We find excellent discussions of the problem in John Paul II's Christifideles laici (1988) as well as in the 1997 document already discussed.
15. John Paul II: "Full participation does not mean that everyone does everything, since this would lead to a clericalizing of the laity and a laicizing of the clergy; and this was not what the Council had in mind. The liturgy, like the Church, is intended to be hierarchical and polyphonic, respecting the different roles assigned by Christ and allowing all the different voices to blend in one great hymn of praise" (Ad limina discourse to the Bishops of the Northwestern United States, 9 October 1998)
16. Lumen gentium 25.
17. Humani generis 20.
18. See Leo XIII, Sapientiae Christianae 37.
19. For practical suggestions about how to deal with a parish situation in which the usage of extraordinary ministers has gotten out of hand, see Msgr. Peter Elliott, Ceremonies of the Modern Roman Rite (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1994), n. 787.
Peter A. Kwasniewski is Assistant Professor of Philosophy at the International Theological Institute in Gaming, Austria.
Courtesy of The Catholic Faith (Vol. 6, No. 6 November/December2000)
Taken from:
Sapientia: Newsletter of the Confraternity of Catholic Clergy © 2002
Spring 2002, page 13
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
I FIND NEW HOME IN CATHOLIC CHURCH
MORMON FINDS NEW HOME IN CATHOLIC CHURCH
by Steven M. Clifford
by Steven M. Clifford
I was born and raised in Utah, the oldest of two children. We were brought up in a nominally religious home, and yet religion played a major part in our lives as we were growing up. My parents were also born and raised in Utah in families with connections back to the early Mormon pioneers who settled the Great Salt Lake Valley in the mid-1800's.
My great-great-great grandfather on my mother's side was probably the first in my family to join the Mormon church on February 14, 1832, less than two years after Joseph Smith founded the church. Grandpa Alva Benson convinced his wife, father, mother, and the rest of his father's family to join the church in the winter of 1832. They moved to Jackson County, Missouri, in November of 1832 but were driven out of the County by a mob because they were Mormons. In 1834 they moved to Clay County to join with the main body of the church. Four years later, they were forced out of Missouri by a combination of militia troops and vigilantes after Governor Boggs issued his infamous EXTERMINATION ORDER on October 27th, 1838. The order described the Mormons as being in "open and avowed defiance of the laws, and of having made war upon the people of this state." It stated that "the Mormons must be treated as enemies, and must be exterminated or driven from the State if necessary for the public peace - their outrages are beyond all description." My family eventually settled in Utah in 1852, five years after the first Mormon Pioneers arrived in the Salt Lake Valley under the leadership of Brigham Young, the successor to Joseph Smith.
My grandmother on my father's side was the last of my family to be converted to Mormonism and relocate to Utah from Switzerland. My great grandparents left for Utah to join seven of their children who had already emigrated, but they were forced to leave my grandmother, Marie Kauffman, behind in the "Old Country" because she was infected with tuberculosis. Grandma eventually made the journey with her sister, but only after her TB symptoms had subsided enough for her to slide past the U.S. Immigration authorities in New York Harbor.
My family was directed by Brigham Young in 1852 to settle in a high mountain area of the Wasatch Range in northern Utah called Cache Valley. According to my great-great-great grandfather's account, "We met the Apostle Ezra T. Benson at the point of the mountain. We asked him what the privileges were in the valley and he said, 'Find the best place you can'." They found a place on the southeast side of the valley called Hyrum and established their 20-acre farm with about 12 or 15 other families. All of my extended family since those early pioneer ancestors were born and raised as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS or Mormons, as they are more commonly known). It was only natural that my sister and I were brought up in the religion as well.
Mormonism in Utah was not just practiced on Sundays; it was a way of life. School, social activities, scouting, dancing, music, theater, sports, and much more revolved around the church. My parents did not go to church regularly, but they were very adamant that my sister and I not miss out on anything the church had to offer. They paid their Fast Offerings and welcomed the visiting Home Teachers in an effort to maintain their ties with the church and thereby remain in good standing. In those days, anyone who was less than an active member of the church was ostracized by the majority. Approximately 77% of the population of Utah was Mormon, and my parents did not want me or my sister to become one of those unmentionable, disenfranchised "others".
Mormonism is still thriving in Utah and growing all over the world. The LDS have a very carefully groomed image of family togetherness and steadfast moral values. Mormons believe that strong families make a strong nation, and strong nations make a strong world. They have a program called "Family Home Evening", in which each participating family sets aside one evening per week to gather and discuss issues concerning the church. The goal of every faithful Mormon is to go to the temple and to be sealed for time and eternity as a family unit. In order to enter the temple, each individual needs a temple recommend from his Bishop and Stake President. The recommend is only granted to Mormons in good standing with the church (i.e. those who live the Word of Wisdom, pay 10% tithing, attend church regularly, etc.).
In addition to ministering to their own members, there are over 40,000 men and women missionaries around the world who dedicate two years of their lives, at personal expense and great sacrifice, to spread the word about Mormonism to others. The missionary's appeal comes from his or her youthful appearance and enthusiasm and from the social programs the church offers, such as dancing, sports, scouts, and genealogy.
Most members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have complete and unquestioning trust in all that is Mormon. They believe with all their hearts that their faith represents the only true church on earth, and it is their goal (and responsibility) to spread that belief to everyone else.
As I was growing up, I had very little contact with people outside the LDS church. The few non-Mormons I knew were viewed as outsiders and were treated differently than the members. Even Mormons who did not attend church regularly or who did not live according to the teachings of the church were still considered "better" than non-members. I experienced this social exclusion first-hand when I decided not to attend the church-sponsored seminary program during my first year of high school. Although it was outside the normal curriculum and even located across the street from the school, almost everyone who was Mormon attended the seminary classes. It was difficult for me to relate to my friends as they exchanged stories about the things they were learning in seminary and the activities in which they were involved. I did not make that mistake again! I participated in the three-year seminary program rather than the normal four years and was once again content to find myself included in conversations with my friends.
Mormons consider the "Standard Works" to be the basis of their doctrine. These four books are the Bible (King James Version), the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price. They believe the Bible to be incomplete, because many "plain and precious parts" have been taken away by the "great and abominable church". The Book of Mormon is regarded as a volume of holy scripture. It supposedly contains the fullness of the everlasting gospel. Joseph Smith described the Book of Mormon as "the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion". The Doctrine and Covenants consists primarily of revelations given to Joseph Smith and is full of instruction for the church regarding Mormon beliefs and practices involving baptism for the dead, celestial marriage, priesthood, and polygamy. The Pearl of Great Price is a collection of smaller writings and contains the 13 Articles of Faith, a summary of the beliefs of the LDS church.
From the Mormon perspective, there are three basic classifications of Christian churches. First is the Catholic Church, which claims it has had an uninterrupted existence since it was originally founded by Jesus Christ. Second are the Protestant churches, founded by reformers who believe that the original church fell into apostasy and that the Gospel can be returned to the teachings and practices of the early church through an intense study of the Bible. The third classification consists of those who believe that the church fell into total apostasy and could not be reestablished through reformation, but only through a restoration.
I was taught that the Catholic Church was the "great and abominable church" mentioned in the Book of Mormon. Furthermore, the Catholic Church had intentionally removed the "plain and precious parts" from the Bible that were essential for a full understanding of the teachings of Christ. As a result, there was a "Great" or "Total Apostasy" of the Gospel, and it became necessary for the church to be restored by Jesus Christ to Joseph Smith. As a Mormon, it was easier to relate to members of the Protestant churches because they had a common disdain for the Catholic Church. I agreed with the Protestants in their recognition of the Catholic Church as an apostate church, but felt that they had only the incomplete Bible as their source for doctrine. It was easy to use the Bible to support the Mormon position where possible and then to claim that it was not translated correctly when it conflicted with what I was taught to believe as a Mormon.
When I left Utah in 1968 to join the military, the Mormon bishop gave me a metal dog tag. Engraved on one side was a picture of the Mormon Temple in Salt Lake City. On the reverse side were the words, "I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints". When times were hard, I would often wear my dog tags with the Mormon medal as a reminder of my roots and my heritage. It gave me comfort to recall that I was at heart just a simple Mormon boy from Utah, protected from the evils of the world by my family, friends, and church.
Despite the consolation it provided, I became inactive in the Mormon church. About a year later, I met Anne, a Catholic, and we were married by a Catholic priest in Germany in 1971. Our two daughters were raised Catholic. For many years I attended Catholic Mass, often as a musician with the choir. While stationed in San Francisco, I played the guitar at the local Army chapel along with a Baptist piano player. We often joked that we knew the words to the Mass better than most Catholics in attendance.
I continued to proudly proclaim my Mormon affiliation although I did not attend their services. I had no intention of joining any other church, especially not the Catholic Church. I knew how much it meant to my family back in Utah that I remain a member of the Mormon church. I dreaded visits from the Home Teachers, but I always made sure that my church records followed me to my new duty station. I did not let the Mormons get too close to me, afraid that they would talk me into coming back to church again. I made good friends with another Mormon service member who kept me informed with the latest news from the church. Otherwise, I kept my distance from the Mormons, comfortable to just sit on the fence.
We moved to Virginia in January of 1993 for an assignment at the Pentagon, and I began attending Mass regularly. I joined the contemporary choir because I enjoyed the music, and I thought it was a nice, neutral way to worship God. When asked to do a newsletter for the Schoenstatt Rosary Campaign, I jumped at the opportunity to display my computer talents. Through the preparation of the newsletter, I was first introduced to the Rosary and to Mary's special role in the life, suffering, and death of Jesus. I could not help but be touched by the things I was reading. I began to ask questions. Anne was, of course, excited about my interest and began dropping Catholic literature around the house for me to find.
In the early part of November, I asked Anne if she was trying to convert me. She said she was not and reminded me that she had NEVER pressured me to become a Catholic. For over 22 years of married life, I had gladly called myself a Mormon, and I told Anne that I had no intention of becoming a Catholic. "I was born a Mormon, I was raised a Mormon, and I'm going to die a Mormon!", I exclaimed. But something was happening to me. The power of all the prayers that were being said for me by Anne and by many others was having an effect. The Holy Spirit was working on me.
On November 20th, 1993, I sacrificed a Saturday to attend a seminar given by Scott and Kimberly Hahn. Scott told his story of assuming the role of detective in an attempt to prove once and for all that the Catholic Church was wrong. In the process of his studies, he became a Catholic. I remember thinking to myself that obviously he did not research very well, or he would have become a Mormon instead of a Catholic. I decided to try the detective thing myself, just to prove the Catholics wrong and the Mormons right.
I began reading and researching like there was no tomorrow. I read books on Mormonism, Protestantism and Catholicism. I listened to audio tapes and watched videos. I grabbed at anything I could get my hands on to confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt that the only true church on earth was the one restored by Jesus Christ to the "Prophet" Joseph Smith and his followers. Much to my chagrin, every direction I turned and on each point I investigated, I found overwhelming evidence against the Mormon position. The more I researched, the more problems I found with the Mormon doctrines I had been taught.
I discovered that the Mormon teaching of a "Total Apostasy" in the early Church established by Jesus Christ was simply not true. The overwhelming historical evidence available supports the Catholic teaching on Apostolic succession. It was first demonstrated in the replacement of Judas by Matthias (Acts 1:15-26). The chain has been unbroken from Peter to Pope John Paul II (Matthew 16:18). Without a great and total apostasy, there is no need for a restoration.
Another truth I uncovered through my research is that there is only one God. I could no longer accept basic Mormon principles, such as the plurality of gods made of flesh and bones, God's humanity, and man's progression to an exalted god of his own world. Through the mystery of the Holy Trinity, I began to understand the one divine nature of God in three persons: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.
Lastly, I came to know that God is the "first cause" of everything and that our souls and bodies are created at the moment of conception. I could no longer accept the Mormon plan of eternal progression, consisting of a pre-mortal existence where each person is born into this world according to his previous merits in the spirit world. I started to believe that nothing exists that does not owe its existence to God the Creator. The next logical step was to realize that Mary was created as the most exalted creature on earth. I began to see her as the daughter of God the Father, the spouse of God the Holy Spirit, and the mother of God the Son. I saw that through a better understanding of the virtues of the Blessed Virgin, we can more nearly follow in the footsteps of Jesus.
By Christmas, I was absolutely convinced that the Mormons were wrong. I was devastated! How could so many good people be deceived? What about all the sacrifices my ancestors had made for the church? How could I turn my back on my heritage, my upbringing, my family and my childhood friends? I wanted to pretend that I had never started on this journey. I wished I could go back to the way things were, but it was too late. I had found the truth.
Once I had decided that I wanted to become a Catholic, I had a wonderful feeling of peace because I knew that I was doing the right thing. I was certain that God was prompting me along the way and giving me the grace to open my mind and heart to accept the truth of the Gospel message of Jesus Christ.
At the same time there was a tremendous battle raging about me that left me wondering what was going to happen next. I was challenged from all directions in what seemed like a concerted effort to prevent me from trusting in God. The spiritual warfare even manifested itself physically. One morning, about two weeks before my baptism, another driver ran into the back of my car on the way to work. I was verbally attacked by members of my family in Utah and some of my co-workers at the Pentagon. On Ash Wednesday, I was heckled by my supervisor for having "dirt" on my forehead. The distractions and obstacles seemed constant and unrelenting. I just kept reminding myself that I must be on the right track since all these bad things were being thrown at me. I accepted my sufferings as the devil's desperate attempt to steer me away from the Church.
Not to be outdone, God gave me some loving affirmations that He was there with me. One evening at church, I was overcome with joy and drawn almost uncontrollably to an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I genuflected toward the tabernacle and made the sign of the cross for the first time in my life. Also on Ash Wednesday, just days before my baptism, I had a very moving experience confirming the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. During my first confession the next day, I had another nudge that assured me of the authority of the Pope as the successor to Peter and the Vicar of Christ. By that time, I had no problem discerning which combatant was sending the good messages and which was sending the negative ones.
On the 19th of February, 1994, I received the Holy Sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation, Penance, First Communion, and validation of the Sacrament of Matrimony performed over 22 years earlier. It was a sacred day that I will cherish forever.
Many wonderful things have happened to me and my family since my Baptism. I consecrated my life to Jesus Christ through Mary and joined the Legion of Mary. With the help of the Blessed Mother, the Lord has done many amazing things to me, and I am truly grateful.
I have often been asked what caused me to suddenly open myself to the Catholic Church and to leave Mormonism. I can point to a number of different things that happened simultaneously, but I cannot isolate any one event to say with certainty, "This planted the first seed." Over the years many seedlings have taken root in my mind and in my heart. Scott Hahn's lectures certainly poured on lots of water and food for thought. The prayers of my wife and many others were undoubtedly the light that warmed and nurtured those tender seeds of my budding faith.
Another question I am frequently asked is how we should speak to Mormons and to those who are investigating Mormonism. What will help to open their eyes to the truth? Each person we encounter should be approached with a spirit of love and patience, rather than interrogation or rebuke. Know your faith, live your faith, and be ever ready to explain your faith. Plant the seeds of truth with humbleness and charity. There are countless loopholes and inconsistencies in the Mormon church that are easy targets of attack. The better approach is to engage instead in a friendly discussion about the theory of the "Great" or "Total Apostasy". If no universal apostasy of the Church took place, the whole basis of Mormonism collapses. The Sacred Scripture of the New Testament shows that Christ left a Church that he promised would last until the end of time (Mt 16:13-18). He told His Church, "Behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age" (Mt 28:20). The writings of the early Church Fathers (like Saints Clement, Ignatius, Justin Martyr, Polycarp, and Irenaeus) are well-documented in books like the three-volume set from William A. Jurgens called, "The Faith of the Early Fathers". When read carefully, these writings clearly show that the very early Fathers did not teach Mormon doctrines (plurality of gods, pre mortal existence, eternal progression, polygamy, baptism for the dead, celestial marriage, etc.), but rather consistently preached Catholic doctrines (the Mass as a sacrifice, Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, Primacy of Peter and his successors, etc.).
It has not been easy for my family in Utah to accept my conversion to Catholicism. To my knowledge, I am the first of our family members to officially leave the Mormon church to become a Catholic. My relationship with my family has therefore been very strained. My wife and I continue to pray that my parents will someday understand why I chose to leave Mormonism for the true Church established by Jesus Christ.
Biographical Sketch: Steven M. Clifford was born and raised in Utah as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS, aka Mormons). After serving four years in the U.S. Air Force in Europe (West Germany), he returned to Utah with his Catholic wife, Anne. He graduated in 1975 from Weber State College in Ogden, Utah, with a BA in Foreign Literature and was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the U.S. Army Transportation Corps. Steve also has an MS in Information Systems from Golden Gate University in San Francisco, where he graduated in 1992. He retired as a Lieutenant Colonel in January 1995 from his last assignment in the Pentagon. He has two daughters and four granddaughters. Steve currently works at a software and systems engineering company where he is involved in developing and maintaining the DoD Metadata Registry and Clearinghouse. Steve has been involved with computers and telecommunications since 1982. He a number of Web sites (including http://www.transporter.com) out of his home. He enjoys sharing his knowledge of Mormonism as he evangelizes on the computer networks. He is active in Catholic apologetics on the Internet and is an past officer in the Legion of Mary. Steve can be contacted by using our [Feedback] form.
See also the article in the May/June 1998 issue of Envoy Magazine located at http://www.envoymagazine.com/envoy/samplearticles/may_june98/story3.html
Thursday, January 8, 2009
LUTHERAN TO BAPTIST TO CATHOLIC
Lutheran to Baptist to Catholic
Lady Catherine
(http://www.bringyou.to/apologetics/s25.htm)
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Lady Catherine
(http://www.bringyou.to/apologetics/s25.htm)
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I grew up in a Lutheran household in which my parents took us to church weekly, and we were there for any other events offered by the church as well, the annual bazaar, game night, etc. I attended Confirmation and was confirmed in my 6th grade year. I always had a curiosity for things spiritual, and I was forever asking my parents various questions.
However, in my household, my parents were quite hostile to anything that was a positive rendering of the words Jesus or God. The ONLY time during my childhood that the words Jesus or God was said in a positive manner was when we said grace for meals, plus when we were at church and prayed to God, sang hymns to Him, carols, etc. Otherwise, in our home, the names of Jesus, God and even the Holy Family were taken in profanity by my parents. If we children followed suit, we would be slapped across the face but hard. In that sense, it was a double standard.
My dad was a lapsed Catholic. He attended Lutheran services with mom because it pleased her, but he still had his Catholic Bible which he kept around the house. I saw it one day and asked why it was called a Catholic Bible and what made it different from the one we called, "Holy Bible." I was treated to a torrent of abuse for asking what made this Bible different from others. Close to 30 years later I would learn that my Dad had no idea why the differences. He thought they were just the same, but one had the word "Catholic" on it. I guess he never looked inside the Catholic Bible to know what was within it.
I became a born-again Christian in 1989. I'd been spiritually asleep for years after leaving home for school and eventually marriage. I did not attend church while at university and for the first six to nine months of my short lived first marriage ( which lasted 2 1/2 years) I did not attend church either. We did start going to a Baptist church, however, since he was Baptist. This renewed my spiritual walk, and started telling me things I'd never heard in my Lutheran church, that once I accept Jesus Christ as my personal Lord and Savior, I am saved forever. Nothing I could do anymore could keep me from heaven. Quite naturally, this appealed to me.
One night in August 1989, with the help of a radio announcer who was making a call for people to accept Jesus as Savior and Lord and who was about to "pray the prayer" -- the sinner's prayer -- I prayed that prayer and accepted Jesus into my heart in my life as my personal Lord and Savior. This began the start of leading a godly lifestyle. This included beginning to slowly get out of the bar scene, precipitously stopping the profanity in my vocabulary, and slowly stopping a lifestyle of promiscuity, to which I'd resorted after my divorce was final. I didn't know anything but that I'd been saved. I could rest in the fact that I'd repented and that Jesus had paid the price for past sins and that, because of my faith in that, I would be in heaven, and I could know this now on earth. Imagine what a great thing that was to me!
I did start attending church weekly, and was always in the door for any other events as well. My lifestyle changed drastically, and I eventually traded my promiscuous lifestyle for one that was much more godly. I met a number of wonderful, godly people and learned how to study the Bible, and as importantly, to live what was in it. For the deep reverence and respect that Protestants have for the Word of God and using it as a tool to live righteous lives, I am deeply grateful. I am also deeply grateful to the Protestant people in my lives for their zeal to get out the Word and "witness." I appreciate that deep zeal to share with others what they believe is the truth.
I grew in my faith and its impact in my life increased steadily. I remarried in 1994 and had 2 children with my second husband. We were steadily attending a Southern Baptist church and were involved in it outside of services on Sunday. My world fell apart bit by bit when he began to manifest signs of what would eventually be diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenia right after the birth of our first daughter in 1996. In retrospect, the signs were there when we were dating. I just didn't recognize them as such at the time. As my pastor said when he died, "Heidi, he fooled us all. Even his own parents didn't know."
My husband had a good number of questions that went against the fray of fundamentalist theology. He was not at all satisfied with the typical responses of the fundamentalist about the hypothetical person on the deserted island who'd never heard the gospel. I found myself giving him a much un-fundamentalist response along the lines of that which is in Romans 1 -- that God has revealed Himself to such a person in that person's heart. Not having heard about Jesus notwithstanding, such a person knew about God, and it was up to him to accept that which God had showed him, and to live by that, and that person was in God's hands. If such a person had his heart continuously turned to God, then surely God would show Him the way of salvation -- not a fundamentalist response at all. However, it worked for my husband. He had other issues as well, for which he sought to find answers.
All fell apart in the summer of 1999, when we moved to Germany. By this time, my husband was drinking beyond control, consuming at least a bottle a night of hard German herb liquor. This would be about the size of bottle one might keep in one's liquor cabinet. Not a large size, but not a personal one-serving size either. He drank from the time he came home from work until he finally fell to sleep. He would awaken early the next day for physical training (he was in the army) and resume the cycle. All came to a screaming pinnacle on June 13, 1999 when he assaulted me in front of our children. For this, he was removed from our home for 60 days, mandatory for anyone in the army who assaults a spouse. He made a decision that he did not want to stay with us after that time, and so we prepared to move back to the States. In the meantime, he was sent to an alcoholism program in Landstuhl, Germany. He was sent home early due to a poor attitude and an unwillingness to cooperate in his own recovery.
We moved back to the states in November of 1999. Was it ever a humbling experience. My children and I lived there for 14 months, while I healed and grew spiritually. My husband was sent to Walter Reed medical hospital in Washington, D.C., where he was finally diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. After all the lack of support I had received from the social services office in Stuttgart, Germany -- the counselor had made the claim she'd worked in mental health services for over 25 years but did not even recognize my husband's schizophrenia -- it was a gift to hear the doctor at Walter Reed give my husband's diagnosis and the program of treatment.
However, my husband still did not want to return to our household. He eventually did in June of 2000 but abandoned us just 2 months later to go out west to go to his dad in Seattle. We never saw him again after that. He took his life in November of 2001 when he used one of his revolvers to shoot himself. It is my prayer that God would give release and peace to his soul, and for the repose of his soul, and that God will save his soul.
I bought a home in January 2001 and we moved in. I was working for a local school district as a teacher (still am) and was knowing the work of God in my life through His Holy Spirit. Still do!!!
At the end of 2002, I finally purchased a computer. During the first week of January, I used the search engine to see if I finally couldn't contact a long lost friend from middle school. I had no luck entering her name into the search bar, so I decided to enter her brother's name, figuring I'd find his name associated with some church, as he'd gone to seminary to become a Protestant minister. BINGO! His name came up in a reference to finding ancestors in a local area in New England, where he was living. I contacted him via the email link provided.
He assured me he was indeed the brother of my childhood friend, and we proceeded to fill in each other on our lives. He gave me his sister's email address as well, and my friend and I finally started regular contact with each other. One of my friend's revelations was that he had converted to Catholicism. Knowing that he did not do this off the cuff, and that it was a monumental decision for him, I asked him about it, and started giving him my list of objections and questions to clarify about the Catholic faith. All the usual issues -- Mary, the Pope, praying to saints, etc.
Nothing about the Eucharist, because this fundamentalist (gasp!) already believed in the Real Presence. Don't ask!!! It probably had something to do with my Lutheran upbringing. He deftly and gently answered my objections and started to send me some readings of patristics. I had already had exposure to Ignatius and the martyrdom of Polycarp through a publication called, "Discipleship Journal." In particular, the readings of Paul Thigpen intrigued and challenged me. Of course, many of you know that he's converted to Catholicism and that his story is in one of the "Surprised by Truth" volumes.
At any rate, my friend continued to gently but deftly share about his Catholic faith. Not arrogance here. Not treating me like I had no right to ask questions. Finally, someone who knew and understood. He challenged me to re-read the Bible, and to pray to the Holy Spirit for understanding. I did, and I found myself less and less comfortable with what I was seeing and believing in my fundamentalist Southern Baptist church.
I stayed through the first weekend of March and found myself across the street at the Catholic Church for my first Mass the following weekend. I'd already made the decision to convert, by the end of February. My first Mass assured me that there was no idolatry here (the reference to worshipping idols -- read STATUES, icons, religious art, etc). All was centered on the Eucharist. All was about the Lord's Supper. It was a communal journey in faith. I continued to attend, and have been attending faithfully since then.
I enrolled in the R.C.I.A. program in September of 2003 and was confirmed in Spring of 2004. I have been blessed to meet many individuals who have given me books, sent me websites, invited me to participate in their online fora. Above all, I have been blessed to see the fullness of truth. It was a definitive answer to the question of unity, ever posed by my late mother. It was her constant query, "why can't everyone just be one church?" This will happen when full and complete reconciliation is made with the Church. I believe with all my heart that indeed this will happen. It's just a matter of time and in which generation it will occur.
God bless you all
Lady Catherine
LadyCatherine116@aol.com
Visit this site for more articles about Catholic Faith: http://www.bringyou.to/apologetics/
My Conversion to the Catholic Church - David Benneth
Finally Catholic! My Conversion to the Catholic Church
David Benneth
David Benneth
It was a bright late-spring day, and my brother Jonathan and I were running outside at a Southern Ohio state park. We had been kept in by the spring rain, and now that May was in full-swing, we could run on mostly solid ground. I remember exactly where we were: the clearing to the plain, where the forest ends temporarily, and the sunlight shines through, beaming onto the colorful brush. We often stop there to get our breath, since it is about the middle of the three mile or so run. Usually we discuss theology or life while we run, and this time was no exception. This day I told him that I was seriously considering becoming Catholic. I had finally tired of fighting for an Anglican church that didn't - and never did - exist, growing wearier and more confused by the day. I needed a real spiritual home, a Catholic home, where I could grow, rather than fight. I had just plain had enough. Jonathan was pretty shocked, which was surprising, because being twins, we were often on the same page.
He probably thought one of my initial reasons was silly, but nonetheless, he admitted it was true. We had gone to an "All-County Choir Festival," about a month earlier where choirs from area churches came to showcase their talent. The Catholic and Episcopal churches are across the street from each other, so they decided to pair up for the evening of singing. Having once attended that particular Episcopal church, I knew who in the mixed choir were Episcopalian (plus their robes told who was who). I noticed that of the 40 or so people in the choir, only about 8 were Episcopalian. They were all over 50, whereas the Catholic choir had people of all ages. It was telling to me. Immediately I began to think "boy the Catholic Church is universal." Now, don't get me wrong, I did not make that appraisal simply on account of this one anecdotal case, but it certainly served as an illustration to what I had been thinking for quite awhile, but had not been expressing.
Jonathan was initially bothered. I guess he thought that my statement was a whim or thinking out loud. He soon realized I was serious, much more serious than when I said in January 2004 at the local American Anglican Council meeting that in a year I would probably be Orthodox or Catholic. Of course, about a week later he had a copy of a book about former Protestant Catholic converts, so obviously he agreed with me, although perhaps it took some meditation. Anyway, I am getting ahead of myself. I should likely start at the beginning.
I grew up evangelical Christian, the son of a Methodist pastor and schoolteacher mother. I was raised to value my faith, and I do not ever remember a time I was not Christian. I was baptized as a baby, and grew up with Bible stories, prayers, and lots of love. I remember accepting Jesus "into my heart" when I was around four. My parents were the best examples I had of Christlike behavior. However, even since I was a child I was always drawn to the more liturgical elements of Christianity. Advent and Christmas were my favorite times of the year, and I always found these more solemn seasons meaningful and rewarding. My faith was simple, but a big part of my life.
As a teen, I became a fundamentalist Christian. I was pretty dangerous: an 8th grader who had just been "saved." Even though I had been Christian my whole life, and was baptized as a baby, I still felt a lot of pressure from the youth group to "get saved." As a recently-saved adolescent I knew just about everything there was to know about the faith, or so I thought, and it upset me that nobody else was ever as "on fire" as I was. I feel sorry for the poor Jehovah's Witness girls I used to bug constantly. Holly and Amber were far more charitable in our discussions than I was, yet they were the brainwashed ones, so I often opined. My parents even had to tell me to cool-it a little, since I was behaving embarrassingly I am sure, especially toward anybody who disagreed with me, or who wasn't as excited to be Christian as I was (which was just about everybody).
One day I met Jessica C. standing on the basketball court in our little town. I thought she was pretty and we struck up a conversation, which was entirely her doing, since I was relatively clueless, even at 14. I was there hanging out, and I was surprised I met up with a girl, since it wasn't really on my mind. Before I knew it, we were hanging out more and more, taking walks, and even going places together. Jessica was not much of a Christian even though her grandpa was a United Methodist minister. All I could talk about was my faith. She humored me for awhile, but eventually became kind of sick of my always bringing everything back to my faith. I kind of got sick of myself at this point. She wanted to kiss me one night, and on account of a mix of cluelessness and moral puritanism, I pretended to not know what she was getting at. Eventually she started seeing me as more of a friend, although I had feelings for her. Soon we stopped seeing each other, and I was upset when I found out she cussed and hung out with "the wrong crowd." Nonetheless, the whole experience did serve to break me of my fundamentalism. I kind of liked the attention from girls, and since I couldn't reconcile having a relationship (even harmless) with a female and my strong faith, I chose women. I stopped reading my Bible regularly, and would only pray to cover myself, praying every night that God would forgive me my sins, "past, present, and future," a formula I had developed just in case. Talk about minimalism!
I started weight-lifting, getting in shape, taking vitamins, and was going to play football in the autumn. I was slowly abandoning any faith I had. Youth group became a burden. I started listening to oldies, and I wanted to leave youth group to go home and listen to Bob Dylan instead of Christian singer Carman. Even though my friends at this time weren't really Christian, I still held onto a basically Christian moral outlook. I wasn't very wild or rebellious. I just didn't want to be involved in the Christianity I knew, which I thought was hyper-emotional, hypocritical, and pretty boring. Plus, I wanted to "do my own thing," and that meant dating girls who I liked, who happened to not be Christian.
I pretty much had this agnostic outlook until the summer of 1998, when I turned twenty. In the meantime, from 1996 through spring of 1998 I had gone to College and pretty much began to forge my "own way," majoring in Psychology, and practically making a religion of that. I had dated quite a few women in there, none of them Christian. My friends weren't Christian, and the things we did were not always Christian either. By the summer of 1998 when I was working as an intern at a drug and alcohol treatment facility I was at a personal low. I was depressed and felt very unfulfilled. All the fun, all the education, and all the coping mechanisms did little for me. On the way home from a trip to town one day, I was complaining about my life as usual, and my dad said maybe I should consider Jesus again. That got me pretty upset and I didn't talk to him that night, mainly because of his strict tone. However, it did make me think. Maybe I did need Jesus. That night I decided that I would give following Jesus a try again. What could it hurt? I couldn't get any lower, and praying for the first time in years was like getting reacquainted with an old friend.
The next morning I woke up with more peace than I had in a long time. The general lassitude I had felt for the last few months began to abate. Dad apologized for the night before, and I did too. I was ready to give Christianity a try again, albeit on different terms. I wasn't going to rush back into the fundamentalism of my younger days. I had learned too much along the way for that. I did get back to reading the Bible and praying regularly. Strangely, this evangelical guy was not praying extemporaneously, but writing out form prayers, psalms, confessions, and more. I bought various prayer books and lit plenty of candles. It just seemed right and natural as a mood for prayer. I started collecting Bibles again, and for some reason K-Mart had a copy of the New American Bible, a Catholic translation. Just to be complete, I picked one up, and became fascinated with what I saw. The New Jerusalem Bible soon followed. Around that time, my brother and I had a strange urge, one that had come out of nowhere, to attend Midnight Mass. I am sure my dad and mom were highly perplexed by two Methodist guys heading out to midnight Catholic mass like it was a revered family tradition. While we were somewhat confused, and squeezed into the pews, I remember feeling connected to something larger than myself, something almost mystical, although I never seriously considered becoming Catholic at that point.
Upon returning to college, I immediately jumped into evangelical groups, mainly because that is all I knew. I started going to Campus Crusade and Navigators meetings, and attended a "contemporary" United Methodist Church. Initially I liked them, and the people were great, but after awhile I began to see some weaknesses. It seemed like every meeting was centered around getting new people into the fold. While new people would come in, old people would leave. There was high turnover rate in these groups outside a core few. In addition, I was getting tired of the contemporary worship and the emphasis on individual "quiet times." The leaders of the Navigators became concerned with my lack of daily quiet times, as if Jesus had said "unless ye have quiet times ye cannot see the kingdom of heaven." I was also tiring of what I perceived as self-help Christianity, where the Christian faith was designed to relieve every earthly problem, rendering one blissfully happy-go-lucky. These campus groups also took a weird view on relationships, almost Gnostic in tone, when they criticized any physical contact in relationships before marriage, including holding hands. Furthermore I saw some inconsistent theology out of the leaders, and when a prominent leader in one of these groups told hundreds of students that John 1:1-18 ("The Word was God," etc) referred to the Bible, I nearly lost it. Hadn't he read down to verse 14? In general, I was seeing some of the same excesses I saw when I essentially left the Christian faith in 1994. A change was coming though...
1999 saw me taking two important classes: Early Christianity and Old Testament. Both of these classes challenged my thinking, and gave me ways to put my objections to contemporary evangelicalism into words. The Early Christianity course, taught by an Orthodox Christian, showed me a Church that had weekly Eucharist, liturgical services, an episcopal structure, among other foreign elements. The Old Testament class looked at the Bible critically and challenged me to actually read what the Bible was saying, instead of assuming I knew. I had to face the fact that the Bible was not the inerrant-to-the-letter handbook I had once assumed, and I found this out, well, by actually reading it. I was intrigued primarily by the Early Christian writers at this point. I bought a set of the earliest Church Fathers (AD 100-330), followed by the later ones (AD 330-800). I began reading them faithfully (while continuing to read the Bible). I just could not square what I was doing with what they were saying. Being a historian, I could not dismiss what they were saying, because they did live immediately after the apostles. One of the major issues I had to face was my view of salvation, which did not jive with the Church Fathers. The early Church Fathers darn-near unanimously read "you must be born again" in John 3:3 to mean "you must receive the sacrament of baptism within the Church" yet I was raised to believe you were born again when you accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior. The Eucharist, the Episcopacy, and worship were other important areas where what I believed and did hardly resembled what the Church Fathers believed and did.
I slowly began to become more Catholic, changing my prayer life and gradually shifting my beliefs. My prayer life became enriched as I began facing East when praying, and I plastered icons and photos of them on my walls. Needless to say, the evangelical spirituality of the Navigators and Campus Crusade lost its appeal. I tried to share what I learned with everyone, but usually it was met with blank stares, a lack of interest, or even mild condemnation. For example, at one Bible study, I brought up the early Church and the martyrs, and what powerful witnesses they were to the faith. Immediately another student pulled the conversation back to how the passage (in Philippians I believe) related to his recent quiet time. I began to wonder where I could go now. I really had no spiritual home. I could either be a kind of Catholic exile in a Protestant church, or go it alone, neither good Catholic options. Then my brother discovered the Episcopal church one Ash Wednesday.
The Methodist churches locally didn't have Ash Wednesday services, so he called around, and the Episcopal church had one, and since it was about a block away, he went (I was studying that night). He came back saying "this is it! This is what we have been looking for!" It was just like our private prayer services (which now had become very form-based, modeled after the Book of Common Prayer and other prayer books). I visited the Sunday after, and loved the service, feeling right at home.
We were both confirmed in the Episcopal church by April, as the priest was more than willing to get us in quickly since the parish had few students. Our confirmation was a surprise to our family and friends, all of whom did not know the full extent of either of our struggle with historical Christianity. Sometimes mild fights would erupt in the house about church issues, but gradually things cooled off. I used to joke that some college students sneak out to use drugs; my brother and I sneaked out to go attend Vespers. I continued studying the early Church and attending Episcopal services. I was very uncomfortable with some of the liberal elements of Episcopalianism I encountered, but I put on the rose-colored glasses and continued on.
After graduating from college, I went to Emory University for my Master's Degree. When I arrived, my brother and I attended an Anglo-Catholic Anglican church in Atlanta that was known around town as pretty conservative. I was also studying a wider period of Church History, which now included the Middle Ages. I used to think the Medieval church became corrupt and had little to offer in the way of spirituality or theology. Thanks to my Anglo-Catholic parish and some great professors, I discovered the riches of the Medieval Church. I also discovered the rosary, confession, and other prayers and sacraments I was unfamiliar with. While this was happening, I began to encounter the liberalism of the wider Episcopal church, and the Anglican religion I knew in my mind did not come close to matching up with the Anglican church I encountered in reality. The Episcopal seminarians at Emory accepted almost every progressive secular idea that came around. Atlanta Episcopalianism was a hotbed for gay activism. However, I really tried hard to learn a thing or two from people I disagreed with, and always treated those with whom I disagreed charitably, but I was still one of the most conservative Episcopalians at the school.
In 2002 I began to feel a call to something more spiritually. Was it the ordained ministry? I seemed to think it was at the time, but now I have my doubts. I began to engage in conversations with my former priest in Ohio about exploring the process there. I graduated from Emory in May 2002 and began the "discernment process" for the priesthood in Ohio that summer. I felt uncomfortable with a lot of the process. The questions seemed to focus more on personality or vague spirituality rather than whether or not I was willing to serve in a priestly capacity for the Church of Jesus Christ. Nobody ever asked me if I even believed in Jesus. Perhaps some of the clergy on the committee may not have been able to answer "yes" to that question, so they didn't bother to ask. I reluctantly proceeded, but a comment by a priest that I "shouldn't reveal too much" about myself because that's not how the system works, should have set me straight about as to what I was entering, but it didn't.
At this point I was dating a Baptist girl, who reluctantly accepted my possible future as an Episcopal priest. We just didn't talk about our faith, which was difficult, because my faith had been the most important part of my life since I returned to the Christian faith. I proceeded with Diocesan requirements, spending a lot of my own money on flaky psychological evaluations, like drawing pictures of myself and my future. The Psychologist asked why I drew my future family and I without faces, asking what I thought it meant, suggesting maybe it had something to do with lack of commitment or something. I replied, "because I can't draw faces." That was the truth. I still can't draw faces. I think I paid 300 dollars for that piece of news. Anyway, by 2003 I had jumped through the Diocesan hoops and was scheduled to go to seminary, which I did in the Fall of 2003. However, in July something unexpected happened: Gene Robinson, a gay man in a non-celibate homosexual relationship, was elected the Episcopal bishop of New Hampshire. While I had no problem with a gay "orientation," and had (and have) gay friends, I knew that it was the universal testimony of the ancient Church, East and West, that practicing gay men are not to be ordained to the priesthood or the episcopacy. I was upset at the news, partially because New Hampshire was being activistic at the expense of the future of the denomination, but I was going to "wait-and-see" as to the response from the Episcopal church. When I arrived at our seminary retreat, immediately after Robinson was elected, almost everybody spoke positively of the news, except my brother and I and a handful of others. One future priest responded to my objection with, "well you know that our Suffragan Bishop would marry gay people today if he were allowed," implying that we had better get used to it. Had I been feeling sarcastic, perhaps I would have asked "if our Suffragan bishop jumped off a bridge..." but I held my tongue. Another future priest at the retreat angrily dismissed certain Episcopalians who were "radically pro-life." I began to doubt my calling at this point, but I decided I would see it through.
I enjoyed my time at seminary to a great degree. I met some great friends I still see regularly, whose insights and friendships I value highly. However, as time marched on, Gene Robinson's election was affirmed by the Episcopal Church and he was consecrated against the wishes of the wider Anglican communion, despite some strong objections by worldwide Anglican leaders. I published commentary on these objections here: Editor David Bennett Responds to the Anglican Primates Statement. I finally broke down and joined the conservative American Anglican Council. I did this secretly, because had word gotten to the diocese it wouldn't have gone over very well. Reactions at this "high-church" seminary were almost universally supportive of the consecration. For the record, "high church" in this instance, as is often the case anymore, refers more to embracing medieval aesthetics than holding the theology or ethics of the Church in high regard. I asked the professor in charge of assigning seminarians to parishes to consider an orthodox assignment for me. I guess what is "orthodox" has changed over the years, because I was assigned to a church whose clergy were active members of the local pro-abortion "Clergy for Choice" chapter, not to mention supporters of Gene Robinson's consecration. I dreaded traveling there, simply because I felt so out-of-place. I also had to play almost every role in the parish, because even though the parish could hold 400 or more people a service, the attendance was about 70 at this service. Nobody wanted to get involved it seemed. As an Episcopalian, I was becoming accustomed to empty parishes. The rector later described this parish as a "thriving downtown parish." I guess the meaning of "thriving" has also changed.
I decided I could not return to seminary for the winter quarter, and I let the diocese know that I could not be ordained into the Episcopal church in good conscience knowing that it had consecrated Gene Robinson as bishop against the wishes of the wider Anglican Communion, acting in a congregationalist fashion. Gene Robinson's consecration, I told my bishop, was also contrary to the teachings of Scripture and Catholic Tradition, East and West. Here is a copy of my resignation letter to the bishop. I was still holding out hope for a place in Anglicanism, so I joined the conservative Anglican Communion Network, and inquired about their ordination process. I also met up with a priest friend of mine, and he offered to help my brother and I out with getting the ordination process started. We began attending his church and things were working out relatively well, although the parish was tiny, declining, and gray, and had no Anglo-Catholic identity whatsoever. It was during this time also that I was reading The Pontificator, an Anglican at this time, regularly. As of this update (5-19-2005) he has renounced his Anglican orders and is soon to become Catholic.
Eventually, the diocese found out that we were officially affiliating the Anglican Communion Network as a parish, which the diocese rightly perceived as a threat against its authority. Some members of the parish began plotting against my priest friend, and the diocese began pressing harder. Also at this point, financial aid for any future ministerial endeavors was looking to be non-existent, and my brother and I decided firmly that if God was calling us to be Anglican priests, then the money would have to come and back it up. No money was ever promised.
I was despairing. I began to question women's ordination, which I accepted while in graduate school, because I began to see that the arguments in favor of women's ordination were the same arguments used to justify all sorts of other innovations. I could hardly consider myself "catholic" and be in a Church that so clearly contradicted Catholic and Orthodox Teaching on the sacrament of holy orders. I also began to see that the Anglican church was not Catholic. Who told me this? Scores of Anglicans themselves! Worldwide most Anglicans are firmly committed reformed Protestants, who perhaps tolerate the views of Anglo-Catholic Anglicans, but when push comes to shove, have no real love of Anglo-Catholicism. I soon realized that the majestic Catholic Anglican church I loved never even existed, and never will. It existed only on paper, and in the minds of those few fellow Anglicans who happened to agree with me as to the definition of Anglicanism. Perhaps this is the beauty, or absurdity, of Anglicanism, that both John Spong and Peter Akinola can both think they represent "true Anglicanism." I also looked into the Charismatic Episcopal Church. While it is beyond the scope of this essay to get into the exact details, I decided not to join the Charismatic Episcopal Church because it had the same problem as the Anglican Church: what it was and what it stood for depended on whom you asked.
Now we arrive to the day we were running outside. A few days after this incident, as I have stated, my brother bought a book on Catholic converts. I began to look into the Catholic Church as well, seriously considering the idea. My relationship with my long-term Baptist girlfriend had been deteriorating for awhile, and around this time we broke up, part of it because of religious differences. We just could not sustain our relationship, because it was not based on faith. How I, a future Anglican priest and proud Anglo-Catholic, could sustain a relationship for three years without putting faith at the center of it still mystifies me. At any rate, this break-up left me free to consider the Catholic Church even more fully. My brother and I now began praying in front of the Blessed Sacrament at a local Catholic parish. I bought quite a few books on the topic, including Catholicism for Dummies, The Christian Faith: In the Doctrinal Documents of the Catholic Church, and I read the Catechism (which I had owned since 1999) all the way through. I began using the Catholic version of the Liturgy of the Hours instead of the Book of Common Prayer at this point as well, and exploring Catholic custom and spirituality.
By June, my local Episcopal parish was in turmoil, and the priest resigned and was going to start an Anglican Mission in America parish. While I supported him as a friend, I could not become AMIA, nor could I remain Episcopalian. The AMIA is clearly a part of the "Protestant" wing of Anglicanism. After deciding this, I scheduled a meeting with a Catholic priest, and was going to visit a Catholic Mass soon. Jonathan was visiting Australia at this point, and was anxiously awaiting the results of my meeting. The meeting went very well, and Fr. Black was willing to welcome Jonathan and me into the Catholic Church rather soon, seeing as how we were practically Catholic in our beliefs and practices as Anglo-Catholic Anglicans. He also gave us copies of Handbook for Today's Catholics.
When Jonathan returned to the states we had another meeting with Fr. Black, and set the date for confirmation at August 14th, which was the vigil of the Assumption of Mary. It is quite an interesting time to be confirmed, seeing as how the Assumption of Mary was one of the more difficult doctrines for me to accept coming from a Protestant background. By this time, after much study and prayer, I had fully submitted to the Teachings of the Catholic Church, and there was no going back. We had to tell mom, dad, and grandma, the prospect of which made submitting to the Magisterium seem rather easy. Their reactions were very mild. They were somewhat surprised, but not hostile, and very encouraging, although they probably still don't understand fully why a 26-year old would choose to become Catholic.
The day my brother and I were confirmed was amazing. My relationship with the Risen Lord had deepened further than I could ever had imagined. We began the day with confession, which took about 30 minutes each. It was quite scary to recount all of my sins since birth, and to tell them to a priest, but when it was over, it was quite liberating. I even joked, "can we do this again, father?" First communion was very powerful as well. I took the name "Hilary" at confirmation, after St. Hilary of Poitiers, one of the Church Fathers I had read back in 1999. I finally felt at home and at peace. I was glad to leave the wars of Anglicanism, and the emphasis on individualism and private judgment that led to them, behind. Even though I have always had a strong sense of right and wrong, I have never been much of a fighter. I had become sick and tired of always getting outraged at the most recent headline about the Anglican Church. I had grown weary of being embarrassed of my own denomination. Most of all though, I was glad to be in the arms of the Holy Catholic Church, where my relationship with the Lord could reach its fullest potential. After all, I had always gone to the Catholic Church for guidance anyway. It sounds strange, but since 1999, whenever I wanted a real answer to any moral or theological question, I went to a Catholic (or often Orthodox) source instead of those from my own denomination. That should have been telling I guess, but we humans can be slow learners. So after 6 years of being so close, finally I am Catholic! While I admit that there will be ups-and-downs as a Catholic, I know I have found my true spiritual home.
Added 4-3-2006: As I reflect back on my becoming Catholic, I think I need to clarify that I never have doubted the goodness of my past Christian experiences. I don't view myself as going from evil to good. I have no need to "renounce" my Protestant past. I believe that I have gone from something great to something even greater. I haven't "converted" in the sense that I came to believe in Jesus for the first time. I came to know Jesus as a Protestant, and I am getting to know him better as a Catholic. I have gone from having a deep, although minimalist, relationship with Christ to an even deeper, but more full, relationship with Him. I value my Protestant past, and while I have found my spiritual home, I have many kind words for those who have nurtured me in a Protestant setting. After all, it was my Protestant upbringing that helped lead me where I am today. However, I still have to say it is wonderful to be in the Holy Catholic Church!
Questions, Objections, and Answers
He probably thought one of my initial reasons was silly, but nonetheless, he admitted it was true. We had gone to an "All-County Choir Festival," about a month earlier where choirs from area churches came to showcase their talent. The Catholic and Episcopal churches are across the street from each other, so they decided to pair up for the evening of singing. Having once attended that particular Episcopal church, I knew who in the mixed choir were Episcopalian (plus their robes told who was who). I noticed that of the 40 or so people in the choir, only about 8 were Episcopalian. They were all over 50, whereas the Catholic choir had people of all ages. It was telling to me. Immediately I began to think "boy the Catholic Church is universal." Now, don't get me wrong, I did not make that appraisal simply on account of this one anecdotal case, but it certainly served as an illustration to what I had been thinking for quite awhile, but had not been expressing.
Jonathan was initially bothered. I guess he thought that my statement was a whim or thinking out loud. He soon realized I was serious, much more serious than when I said in January 2004 at the local American Anglican Council meeting that in a year I would probably be Orthodox or Catholic. Of course, about a week later he had a copy of a book about former Protestant Catholic converts, so obviously he agreed with me, although perhaps it took some meditation. Anyway, I am getting ahead of myself. I should likely start at the beginning.
I grew up evangelical Christian, the son of a Methodist pastor and schoolteacher mother. I was raised to value my faith, and I do not ever remember a time I was not Christian. I was baptized as a baby, and grew up with Bible stories, prayers, and lots of love. I remember accepting Jesus "into my heart" when I was around four. My parents were the best examples I had of Christlike behavior. However, even since I was a child I was always drawn to the more liturgical elements of Christianity. Advent and Christmas were my favorite times of the year, and I always found these more solemn seasons meaningful and rewarding. My faith was simple, but a big part of my life.
As a teen, I became a fundamentalist Christian. I was pretty dangerous: an 8th grader who had just been "saved." Even though I had been Christian my whole life, and was baptized as a baby, I still felt a lot of pressure from the youth group to "get saved." As a recently-saved adolescent I knew just about everything there was to know about the faith, or so I thought, and it upset me that nobody else was ever as "on fire" as I was. I feel sorry for the poor Jehovah's Witness girls I used to bug constantly. Holly and Amber were far more charitable in our discussions than I was, yet they were the brainwashed ones, so I often opined. My parents even had to tell me to cool-it a little, since I was behaving embarrassingly I am sure, especially toward anybody who disagreed with me, or who wasn't as excited to be Christian as I was (which was just about everybody).
One day I met Jessica C. standing on the basketball court in our little town. I thought she was pretty and we struck up a conversation, which was entirely her doing, since I was relatively clueless, even at 14. I was there hanging out, and I was surprised I met up with a girl, since it wasn't really on my mind. Before I knew it, we were hanging out more and more, taking walks, and even going places together. Jessica was not much of a Christian even though her grandpa was a United Methodist minister. All I could talk about was my faith. She humored me for awhile, but eventually became kind of sick of my always bringing everything back to my faith. I kind of got sick of myself at this point. She wanted to kiss me one night, and on account of a mix of cluelessness and moral puritanism, I pretended to not know what she was getting at. Eventually she started seeing me as more of a friend, although I had feelings for her. Soon we stopped seeing each other, and I was upset when I found out she cussed and hung out with "the wrong crowd." Nonetheless, the whole experience did serve to break me of my fundamentalism. I kind of liked the attention from girls, and since I couldn't reconcile having a relationship (even harmless) with a female and my strong faith, I chose women. I stopped reading my Bible regularly, and would only pray to cover myself, praying every night that God would forgive me my sins, "past, present, and future," a formula I had developed just in case. Talk about minimalism!
I started weight-lifting, getting in shape, taking vitamins, and was going to play football in the autumn. I was slowly abandoning any faith I had. Youth group became a burden. I started listening to oldies, and I wanted to leave youth group to go home and listen to Bob Dylan instead of Christian singer Carman. Even though my friends at this time weren't really Christian, I still held onto a basically Christian moral outlook. I wasn't very wild or rebellious. I just didn't want to be involved in the Christianity I knew, which I thought was hyper-emotional, hypocritical, and pretty boring. Plus, I wanted to "do my own thing," and that meant dating girls who I liked, who happened to not be Christian.
I pretty much had this agnostic outlook until the summer of 1998, when I turned twenty. In the meantime, from 1996 through spring of 1998 I had gone to College and pretty much began to forge my "own way," majoring in Psychology, and practically making a religion of that. I had dated quite a few women in there, none of them Christian. My friends weren't Christian, and the things we did were not always Christian either. By the summer of 1998 when I was working as an intern at a drug and alcohol treatment facility I was at a personal low. I was depressed and felt very unfulfilled. All the fun, all the education, and all the coping mechanisms did little for me. On the way home from a trip to town one day, I was complaining about my life as usual, and my dad said maybe I should consider Jesus again. That got me pretty upset and I didn't talk to him that night, mainly because of his strict tone. However, it did make me think. Maybe I did need Jesus. That night I decided that I would give following Jesus a try again. What could it hurt? I couldn't get any lower, and praying for the first time in years was like getting reacquainted with an old friend.
The next morning I woke up with more peace than I had in a long time. The general lassitude I had felt for the last few months began to abate. Dad apologized for the night before, and I did too. I was ready to give Christianity a try again, albeit on different terms. I wasn't going to rush back into the fundamentalism of my younger days. I had learned too much along the way for that. I did get back to reading the Bible and praying regularly. Strangely, this evangelical guy was not praying extemporaneously, but writing out form prayers, psalms, confessions, and more. I bought various prayer books and lit plenty of candles. It just seemed right and natural as a mood for prayer. I started collecting Bibles again, and for some reason K-Mart had a copy of the New American Bible, a Catholic translation. Just to be complete, I picked one up, and became fascinated with what I saw. The New Jerusalem Bible soon followed. Around that time, my brother and I had a strange urge, one that had come out of nowhere, to attend Midnight Mass. I am sure my dad and mom were highly perplexed by two Methodist guys heading out to midnight Catholic mass like it was a revered family tradition. While we were somewhat confused, and squeezed into the pews, I remember feeling connected to something larger than myself, something almost mystical, although I never seriously considered becoming Catholic at that point.
Upon returning to college, I immediately jumped into evangelical groups, mainly because that is all I knew. I started going to Campus Crusade and Navigators meetings, and attended a "contemporary" United Methodist Church. Initially I liked them, and the people were great, but after awhile I began to see some weaknesses. It seemed like every meeting was centered around getting new people into the fold. While new people would come in, old people would leave. There was high turnover rate in these groups outside a core few. In addition, I was getting tired of the contemporary worship and the emphasis on individual "quiet times." The leaders of the Navigators became concerned with my lack of daily quiet times, as if Jesus had said "unless ye have quiet times ye cannot see the kingdom of heaven." I was also tiring of what I perceived as self-help Christianity, where the Christian faith was designed to relieve every earthly problem, rendering one blissfully happy-go-lucky. These campus groups also took a weird view on relationships, almost Gnostic in tone, when they criticized any physical contact in relationships before marriage, including holding hands. Furthermore I saw some inconsistent theology out of the leaders, and when a prominent leader in one of these groups told hundreds of students that John 1:1-18 ("The Word was God," etc) referred to the Bible, I nearly lost it. Hadn't he read down to verse 14? In general, I was seeing some of the same excesses I saw when I essentially left the Christian faith in 1994. A change was coming though...
1999 saw me taking two important classes: Early Christianity and Old Testament. Both of these classes challenged my thinking, and gave me ways to put my objections to contemporary evangelicalism into words. The Early Christianity course, taught by an Orthodox Christian, showed me a Church that had weekly Eucharist, liturgical services, an episcopal structure, among other foreign elements. The Old Testament class looked at the Bible critically and challenged me to actually read what the Bible was saying, instead of assuming I knew. I had to face the fact that the Bible was not the inerrant-to-the-letter handbook I had once assumed, and I found this out, well, by actually reading it. I was intrigued primarily by the Early Christian writers at this point. I bought a set of the earliest Church Fathers (AD 100-330), followed by the later ones (AD 330-800). I began reading them faithfully (while continuing to read the Bible). I just could not square what I was doing with what they were saying. Being a historian, I could not dismiss what they were saying, because they did live immediately after the apostles. One of the major issues I had to face was my view of salvation, which did not jive with the Church Fathers. The early Church Fathers darn-near unanimously read "you must be born again" in John 3:3 to mean "you must receive the sacrament of baptism within the Church" yet I was raised to believe you were born again when you accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior. The Eucharist, the Episcopacy, and worship were other important areas where what I believed and did hardly resembled what the Church Fathers believed and did.
I slowly began to become more Catholic, changing my prayer life and gradually shifting my beliefs. My prayer life became enriched as I began facing East when praying, and I plastered icons and photos of them on my walls. Needless to say, the evangelical spirituality of the Navigators and Campus Crusade lost its appeal. I tried to share what I learned with everyone, but usually it was met with blank stares, a lack of interest, or even mild condemnation. For example, at one Bible study, I brought up the early Church and the martyrs, and what powerful witnesses they were to the faith. Immediately another student pulled the conversation back to how the passage (in Philippians I believe) related to his recent quiet time. I began to wonder where I could go now. I really had no spiritual home. I could either be a kind of Catholic exile in a Protestant church, or go it alone, neither good Catholic options. Then my brother discovered the Episcopal church one Ash Wednesday.
The Methodist churches locally didn't have Ash Wednesday services, so he called around, and the Episcopal church had one, and since it was about a block away, he went (I was studying that night). He came back saying "this is it! This is what we have been looking for!" It was just like our private prayer services (which now had become very form-based, modeled after the Book of Common Prayer and other prayer books). I visited the Sunday after, and loved the service, feeling right at home.
We were both confirmed in the Episcopal church by April, as the priest was more than willing to get us in quickly since the parish had few students. Our confirmation was a surprise to our family and friends, all of whom did not know the full extent of either of our struggle with historical Christianity. Sometimes mild fights would erupt in the house about church issues, but gradually things cooled off. I used to joke that some college students sneak out to use drugs; my brother and I sneaked out to go attend Vespers. I continued studying the early Church and attending Episcopal services. I was very uncomfortable with some of the liberal elements of Episcopalianism I encountered, but I put on the rose-colored glasses and continued on.
After graduating from college, I went to Emory University for my Master's Degree. When I arrived, my brother and I attended an Anglo-Catholic Anglican church in Atlanta that was known around town as pretty conservative. I was also studying a wider period of Church History, which now included the Middle Ages. I used to think the Medieval church became corrupt and had little to offer in the way of spirituality or theology. Thanks to my Anglo-Catholic parish and some great professors, I discovered the riches of the Medieval Church. I also discovered the rosary, confession, and other prayers and sacraments I was unfamiliar with. While this was happening, I began to encounter the liberalism of the wider Episcopal church, and the Anglican religion I knew in my mind did not come close to matching up with the Anglican church I encountered in reality. The Episcopal seminarians at Emory accepted almost every progressive secular idea that came around. Atlanta Episcopalianism was a hotbed for gay activism. However, I really tried hard to learn a thing or two from people I disagreed with, and always treated those with whom I disagreed charitably, but I was still one of the most conservative Episcopalians at the school.
In 2002 I began to feel a call to something more spiritually. Was it the ordained ministry? I seemed to think it was at the time, but now I have my doubts. I began to engage in conversations with my former priest in Ohio about exploring the process there. I graduated from Emory in May 2002 and began the "discernment process" for the priesthood in Ohio that summer. I felt uncomfortable with a lot of the process. The questions seemed to focus more on personality or vague spirituality rather than whether or not I was willing to serve in a priestly capacity for the Church of Jesus Christ. Nobody ever asked me if I even believed in Jesus. Perhaps some of the clergy on the committee may not have been able to answer "yes" to that question, so they didn't bother to ask. I reluctantly proceeded, but a comment by a priest that I "shouldn't reveal too much" about myself because that's not how the system works, should have set me straight about as to what I was entering, but it didn't.
At this point I was dating a Baptist girl, who reluctantly accepted my possible future as an Episcopal priest. We just didn't talk about our faith, which was difficult, because my faith had been the most important part of my life since I returned to the Christian faith. I proceeded with Diocesan requirements, spending a lot of my own money on flaky psychological evaluations, like drawing pictures of myself and my future. The Psychologist asked why I drew my future family and I without faces, asking what I thought it meant, suggesting maybe it had something to do with lack of commitment or something. I replied, "because I can't draw faces." That was the truth. I still can't draw faces. I think I paid 300 dollars for that piece of news. Anyway, by 2003 I had jumped through the Diocesan hoops and was scheduled to go to seminary, which I did in the Fall of 2003. However, in July something unexpected happened: Gene Robinson, a gay man in a non-celibate homosexual relationship, was elected the Episcopal bishop of New Hampshire. While I had no problem with a gay "orientation," and had (and have) gay friends, I knew that it was the universal testimony of the ancient Church, East and West, that practicing gay men are not to be ordained to the priesthood or the episcopacy. I was upset at the news, partially because New Hampshire was being activistic at the expense of the future of the denomination, but I was going to "wait-and-see" as to the response from the Episcopal church. When I arrived at our seminary retreat, immediately after Robinson was elected, almost everybody spoke positively of the news, except my brother and I and a handful of others. One future priest responded to my objection with, "well you know that our Suffragan Bishop would marry gay people today if he were allowed," implying that we had better get used to it. Had I been feeling sarcastic, perhaps I would have asked "if our Suffragan bishop jumped off a bridge..." but I held my tongue. Another future priest at the retreat angrily dismissed certain Episcopalians who were "radically pro-life." I began to doubt my calling at this point, but I decided I would see it through.
I enjoyed my time at seminary to a great degree. I met some great friends I still see regularly, whose insights and friendships I value highly. However, as time marched on, Gene Robinson's election was affirmed by the Episcopal Church and he was consecrated against the wishes of the wider Anglican communion, despite some strong objections by worldwide Anglican leaders. I published commentary on these objections here: Editor David Bennett Responds to the Anglican Primates Statement. I finally broke down and joined the conservative American Anglican Council. I did this secretly, because had word gotten to the diocese it wouldn't have gone over very well. Reactions at this "high-church" seminary were almost universally supportive of the consecration. For the record, "high church" in this instance, as is often the case anymore, refers more to embracing medieval aesthetics than holding the theology or ethics of the Church in high regard. I asked the professor in charge of assigning seminarians to parishes to consider an orthodox assignment for me. I guess what is "orthodox" has changed over the years, because I was assigned to a church whose clergy were active members of the local pro-abortion "Clergy for Choice" chapter, not to mention supporters of Gene Robinson's consecration. I dreaded traveling there, simply because I felt so out-of-place. I also had to play almost every role in the parish, because even though the parish could hold 400 or more people a service, the attendance was about 70 at this service. Nobody wanted to get involved it seemed. As an Episcopalian, I was becoming accustomed to empty parishes. The rector later described this parish as a "thriving downtown parish." I guess the meaning of "thriving" has also changed.
I decided I could not return to seminary for the winter quarter, and I let the diocese know that I could not be ordained into the Episcopal church in good conscience knowing that it had consecrated Gene Robinson as bishop against the wishes of the wider Anglican Communion, acting in a congregationalist fashion. Gene Robinson's consecration, I told my bishop, was also contrary to the teachings of Scripture and Catholic Tradition, East and West. Here is a copy of my resignation letter to the bishop. I was still holding out hope for a place in Anglicanism, so I joined the conservative Anglican Communion Network, and inquired about their ordination process. I also met up with a priest friend of mine, and he offered to help my brother and I out with getting the ordination process started. We began attending his church and things were working out relatively well, although the parish was tiny, declining, and gray, and had no Anglo-Catholic identity whatsoever. It was during this time also that I was reading The Pontificator, an Anglican at this time, regularly. As of this update (5-19-2005) he has renounced his Anglican orders and is soon to become Catholic.
Eventually, the diocese found out that we were officially affiliating the Anglican Communion Network as a parish, which the diocese rightly perceived as a threat against its authority. Some members of the parish began plotting against my priest friend, and the diocese began pressing harder. Also at this point, financial aid for any future ministerial endeavors was looking to be non-existent, and my brother and I decided firmly that if God was calling us to be Anglican priests, then the money would have to come and back it up. No money was ever promised.
I was despairing. I began to question women's ordination, which I accepted while in graduate school, because I began to see that the arguments in favor of women's ordination were the same arguments used to justify all sorts of other innovations. I could hardly consider myself "catholic" and be in a Church that so clearly contradicted Catholic and Orthodox Teaching on the sacrament of holy orders. I also began to see that the Anglican church was not Catholic. Who told me this? Scores of Anglicans themselves! Worldwide most Anglicans are firmly committed reformed Protestants, who perhaps tolerate the views of Anglo-Catholic Anglicans, but when push comes to shove, have no real love of Anglo-Catholicism. I soon realized that the majestic Catholic Anglican church I loved never even existed, and never will. It existed only on paper, and in the minds of those few fellow Anglicans who happened to agree with me as to the definition of Anglicanism. Perhaps this is the beauty, or absurdity, of Anglicanism, that both John Spong and Peter Akinola can both think they represent "true Anglicanism." I also looked into the Charismatic Episcopal Church. While it is beyond the scope of this essay to get into the exact details, I decided not to join the Charismatic Episcopal Church because it had the same problem as the Anglican Church: what it was and what it stood for depended on whom you asked.
Now we arrive to the day we were running outside. A few days after this incident, as I have stated, my brother bought a book on Catholic converts. I began to look into the Catholic Church as well, seriously considering the idea. My relationship with my long-term Baptist girlfriend had been deteriorating for awhile, and around this time we broke up, part of it because of religious differences. We just could not sustain our relationship, because it was not based on faith. How I, a future Anglican priest and proud Anglo-Catholic, could sustain a relationship for three years without putting faith at the center of it still mystifies me. At any rate, this break-up left me free to consider the Catholic Church even more fully. My brother and I now began praying in front of the Blessed Sacrament at a local Catholic parish. I bought quite a few books on the topic, including Catholicism for Dummies, The Christian Faith: In the Doctrinal Documents of the Catholic Church, and I read the Catechism (which I had owned since 1999) all the way through. I began using the Catholic version of the Liturgy of the Hours instead of the Book of Common Prayer at this point as well, and exploring Catholic custom and spirituality.
By June, my local Episcopal parish was in turmoil, and the priest resigned and was going to start an Anglican Mission in America parish. While I supported him as a friend, I could not become AMIA, nor could I remain Episcopalian. The AMIA is clearly a part of the "Protestant" wing of Anglicanism. After deciding this, I scheduled a meeting with a Catholic priest, and was going to visit a Catholic Mass soon. Jonathan was visiting Australia at this point, and was anxiously awaiting the results of my meeting. The meeting went very well, and Fr. Black was willing to welcome Jonathan and me into the Catholic Church rather soon, seeing as how we were practically Catholic in our beliefs and practices as Anglo-Catholic Anglicans. He also gave us copies of Handbook for Today's Catholics.
When Jonathan returned to the states we had another meeting with Fr. Black, and set the date for confirmation at August 14th, which was the vigil of the Assumption of Mary. It is quite an interesting time to be confirmed, seeing as how the Assumption of Mary was one of the more difficult doctrines for me to accept coming from a Protestant background. By this time, after much study and prayer, I had fully submitted to the Teachings of the Catholic Church, and there was no going back. We had to tell mom, dad, and grandma, the prospect of which made submitting to the Magisterium seem rather easy. Their reactions were very mild. They were somewhat surprised, but not hostile, and very encouraging, although they probably still don't understand fully why a 26-year old would choose to become Catholic.
The day my brother and I were confirmed was amazing. My relationship with the Risen Lord had deepened further than I could ever had imagined. We began the day with confession, which took about 30 minutes each. It was quite scary to recount all of my sins since birth, and to tell them to a priest, but when it was over, it was quite liberating. I even joked, "can we do this again, father?" First communion was very powerful as well. I took the name "Hilary" at confirmation, after St. Hilary of Poitiers, one of the Church Fathers I had read back in 1999. I finally felt at home and at peace. I was glad to leave the wars of Anglicanism, and the emphasis on individualism and private judgment that led to them, behind. Even though I have always had a strong sense of right and wrong, I have never been much of a fighter. I had become sick and tired of always getting outraged at the most recent headline about the Anglican Church. I had grown weary of being embarrassed of my own denomination. Most of all though, I was glad to be in the arms of the Holy Catholic Church, where my relationship with the Lord could reach its fullest potential. After all, I had always gone to the Catholic Church for guidance anyway. It sounds strange, but since 1999, whenever I wanted a real answer to any moral or theological question, I went to a Catholic (or often Orthodox) source instead of those from my own denomination. That should have been telling I guess, but we humans can be slow learners. So after 6 years of being so close, finally I am Catholic! While I admit that there will be ups-and-downs as a Catholic, I know I have found my true spiritual home.
Added 4-3-2006: As I reflect back on my becoming Catholic, I think I need to clarify that I never have doubted the goodness of my past Christian experiences. I don't view myself as going from evil to good. I have no need to "renounce" my Protestant past. I believe that I have gone from something great to something even greater. I haven't "converted" in the sense that I came to believe in Jesus for the first time. I came to know Jesus as a Protestant, and I am getting to know him better as a Catholic. I have gone from having a deep, although minimalist, relationship with Christ to an even deeper, but more full, relationship with Him. I value my Protestant past, and while I have found my spiritual home, I have many kind words for those who have nurtured me in a Protestant setting. After all, it was my Protestant upbringing that helped lead me where I am today. However, I still have to say it is wonderful to be in the Holy Catholic Church!
Questions, Objections, and Answers
1. Why Didn't You Join an Orthodox Church?
I seriously considered going Orthodox (and to some degree, an Eastern Catholic Church) in the beginning of my doubts about Anglicanism. I have always admired the Eastern Churches, and I have embraced a lot of Eastern spirituality (and I still have great respect for my Eastern brothers and sisters). However, I am Western. No matter how hard I try, I am just not Eastern. While I love the East, I mostly lean toward a "Western" understanding of things. Plus, there is no Orthodox church within reasonable driving distance, and the one that is the closest (an hour away), is primarily a Greek social club (Catholic parishes can be this way too). Plus, in joining the Catholic Church, I joined a Church that has Eastern and Western jurisdictions and rites, and the Catholic Church accepts the Eastern Orthodox as pretty much fully, valid Catholic Christians. In my search for a truly universal Church, this was a very positive factor. However, I must say, I still respect those who choose to convert into Orthodox Churches, and I still have great respect for and often learn from Orthodox Christians.
2. Why Didn't You Stay and Reform Anglicanism?
I considered this option for the longest time. However, as time went on I had to face four real issues:
A. Could the Anglican Communion be reformed?
B. Did the Anglican Communion want to be reformed?
C. Was the Anglican Communion worth reforming?
D. What is Anglicanism again??
A. I gradually came to realize that the Anglican communion could not be reformed the way I wanted, at least not easily. Had I lived before women's ordination or the other innovations of the 1960s and 70s, I would have been very optimistic about the future of Anglicanism. I was an Anglo-Catholic Anglican, and worldwide this once-vibrant movement was shrinking or becoming increasingly just liberal dress-up. Anglo-Catholicism's time had passed, and with the evangelical wing of the Anglican Communion growing the most rapidly, I could see the writing on the wall. The Anglican cat is really out of the bag, and I believe that it would be nearly impossible for the Anglican church to return to what it once was (see D. below).
B. Most Anglicans seemed quite happy just being broad church moderates or liberals. Most weren't bothered by the events that greatly bothered me. Even conservative Episcopalians I met seemed content to brush off anything the national church did, no matter how crazy. I finally realized I wanted to turn Anglicanism into Roman Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy, something most Anglicans clearly did not want. So, why change an unwilling denomination, when I could actually become Catholic?
C. In answer to number three, I decided the Anglican Communion is not worth the effort. Please don't take this the wrong way; I recognize that there are those who feel called to fight for the future of Anglicanism, or just quietly serve God in the ways they can as Anglicans, and I am not questioning these callings in the least. However, for me, it just wasn't worth it. What was I fighting for? The English state church? A declining American denomination? A spin-off of the Protestant Reformation? Did we really need another reformation in a reformation denomination? How many reformations does England need in 500 years? The Anglican communion just did not have the history or the numbers for me to justify staying and fighting. I was not going to dedicate my life to fighting for what I was beginning to see as just another Reformation denomination. Plus, I was sick of always fighting, and losing.
D. Nobody knows what Anglicans believe. Nobody can tell you because there is no way to even know, because the Anglican communion tolerates a wide range of conflicting beliefs. The problem is that Anglicanism started as the English state church, and the main concern at the time was national unity, not unity of belief. Thus Christians with all sorts of divergent positions were made Anglicans. Over time at least three church parties have developed, all which accept many doctrines that the other parties reject. Thus they hold mutually exclusive positions. The problem is compounded by the fact that Anglicanism has no real authority structure to handle discipline, so a bishop like John Spong, who is atheist, can remain a bishop for 20 years and nothing can be done about it. So what Anglicanism is depends on whom you ask. For some it is a sort of unitarianism with liturgy, for others it is a reformed church that is evangelical, and for others it is none other than the English branch of the Catholic church. Some Anglicans accept no ecumenical councils as authoritative, some accept four, and others seven. Some believe that all 21 Catholic ecumenical councils are authoritative! Some Anglicans believe the Eucharist is a mere memorial meal, others believe in transubstantiation. Most probably don't care. I finally had to take off my rose-colored glasses and see that the Anglicanism I loved and defended never even existed. I wish it did...I kind of liked it!
3. Are You Still Evangelical?
Yes and No. I am not Evangelical in the sense of belonging to a denomination influenced by 18th century pietism and revivalism. Thus, I am not Evangelical in the technical sense of the term. I am evangelical in the general sense, in that I strongly believe in God's transforming power through Jesus, and I believe we are to share this message to the world. In other words, I believe that we must have a personal (and communal) relationship with Jesus. Thus I do consider myself an evangelical Catholic.
4. Will You Rewrite Your Story to Emphasize Theology and History a Little More?
Maybe. I know that this story is more of a personal account of my religious history than a "I became Catholic for reason X, Y, and Z." I have tried to update it to show a little more of the historical and biblical reasons I became Catholic, but I still want a more personal account available, since I think a lot of people relate to this type of story.
I seriously considered going Orthodox (and to some degree, an Eastern Catholic Church) in the beginning of my doubts about Anglicanism. I have always admired the Eastern Churches, and I have embraced a lot of Eastern spirituality (and I still have great respect for my Eastern brothers and sisters). However, I am Western. No matter how hard I try, I am just not Eastern. While I love the East, I mostly lean toward a "Western" understanding of things. Plus, there is no Orthodox church within reasonable driving distance, and the one that is the closest (an hour away), is primarily a Greek social club (Catholic parishes can be this way too). Plus, in joining the Catholic Church, I joined a Church that has Eastern and Western jurisdictions and rites, and the Catholic Church accepts the Eastern Orthodox as pretty much fully, valid Catholic Christians. In my search for a truly universal Church, this was a very positive factor. However, I must say, I still respect those who choose to convert into Orthodox Churches, and I still have great respect for and often learn from Orthodox Christians.
2. Why Didn't You Stay and Reform Anglicanism?
I considered this option for the longest time. However, as time went on I had to face four real issues:
A. Could the Anglican Communion be reformed?
B. Did the Anglican Communion want to be reformed?
C. Was the Anglican Communion worth reforming?
D. What is Anglicanism again??
A. I gradually came to realize that the Anglican communion could not be reformed the way I wanted, at least not easily. Had I lived before women's ordination or the other innovations of the 1960s and 70s, I would have been very optimistic about the future of Anglicanism. I was an Anglo-Catholic Anglican, and worldwide this once-vibrant movement was shrinking or becoming increasingly just liberal dress-up. Anglo-Catholicism's time had passed, and with the evangelical wing of the Anglican Communion growing the most rapidly, I could see the writing on the wall. The Anglican cat is really out of the bag, and I believe that it would be nearly impossible for the Anglican church to return to what it once was (see D. below).
B. Most Anglicans seemed quite happy just being broad church moderates or liberals. Most weren't bothered by the events that greatly bothered me. Even conservative Episcopalians I met seemed content to brush off anything the national church did, no matter how crazy. I finally realized I wanted to turn Anglicanism into Roman Catholicism or Eastern Orthodoxy, something most Anglicans clearly did not want. So, why change an unwilling denomination, when I could actually become Catholic?
C. In answer to number three, I decided the Anglican Communion is not worth the effort. Please don't take this the wrong way; I recognize that there are those who feel called to fight for the future of Anglicanism, or just quietly serve God in the ways they can as Anglicans, and I am not questioning these callings in the least. However, for me, it just wasn't worth it. What was I fighting for? The English state church? A declining American denomination? A spin-off of the Protestant Reformation? Did we really need another reformation in a reformation denomination? How many reformations does England need in 500 years? The Anglican communion just did not have the history or the numbers for me to justify staying and fighting. I was not going to dedicate my life to fighting for what I was beginning to see as just another Reformation denomination. Plus, I was sick of always fighting, and losing.
D. Nobody knows what Anglicans believe. Nobody can tell you because there is no way to even know, because the Anglican communion tolerates a wide range of conflicting beliefs. The problem is that Anglicanism started as the English state church, and the main concern at the time was national unity, not unity of belief. Thus Christians with all sorts of divergent positions were made Anglicans. Over time at least three church parties have developed, all which accept many doctrines that the other parties reject. Thus they hold mutually exclusive positions. The problem is compounded by the fact that Anglicanism has no real authority structure to handle discipline, so a bishop like John Spong, who is atheist, can remain a bishop for 20 years and nothing can be done about it. So what Anglicanism is depends on whom you ask. For some it is a sort of unitarianism with liturgy, for others it is a reformed church that is evangelical, and for others it is none other than the English branch of the Catholic church. Some Anglicans accept no ecumenical councils as authoritative, some accept four, and others seven. Some believe that all 21 Catholic ecumenical councils are authoritative! Some Anglicans believe the Eucharist is a mere memorial meal, others believe in transubstantiation. Most probably don't care. I finally had to take off my rose-colored glasses and see that the Anglicanism I loved and defended never even existed. I wish it did...I kind of liked it!
3. Are You Still Evangelical?
Yes and No. I am not Evangelical in the sense of belonging to a denomination influenced by 18th century pietism and revivalism. Thus, I am not Evangelical in the technical sense of the term. I am evangelical in the general sense, in that I strongly believe in God's transforming power through Jesus, and I believe we are to share this message to the world. In other words, I believe that we must have a personal (and communal) relationship with Jesus. Thus I do consider myself an evangelical Catholic.
4. Will You Rewrite Your Story to Emphasize Theology and History a Little More?
Maybe. I know that this story is more of a personal account of my religious history than a "I became Catholic for reason X, Y, and Z." I have tried to update it to show a little more of the historical and biblical reasons I became Catholic, but I still want a more personal account available, since I think a lot of people relate to this type of story.
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