Ascension Thur-Sunday

It's Ascension Thursday again, and with that comes the yearly opining about the fact that most dioceses in the U.S. have moved its observation to the following Sunday, and how it'd be soo much better for us all to observe it on the actual day.

I do get it. In an ideal world, society would be arranged in a way so that observing holy days would not be problematic at all. I wish we lived in that world, but of course we don't. There are reasons that the Church has allowed bishops to move the observance.

Here's something worth considering, or so I think. Absolutely no precept prevents anyone from going to mass on Ascension Thursday, even if the local diocese does not observe it then. And nothing prevents you (as an individual) from praying the Office for the Ascension on Ascension Thursday. So why is it so important to people to make Ascension Thursday a holy day of obligation for everyone else?

I know I'm getting soft in my old age, but I've gradually come to recognize the superior wisdom of the Church in many of the "relaxing" changes made over the last 60 years (and the relaxations before that). Here's what I see as the wisdom in moving mid-week holy days of obligation to Sundays:

1. More people who might not otherwise make it will make it, just by the fact of being in church on Sunday--more people de facto get to celebrate the feast day.
2. Nobody--particularly those with rigid work schedules--has to be put in the position of missing an HDO and worrying (justified or not) that they are sinning--or actually sinning.
3. Those who like me will do the necessary to go don't have to make special arrangements with schools and/or drag the whole fam to relatively inconveniently timed masses.

In short, our society has made it progressively more difficult to observe holy days during the week.

Now, if there's a compellingly good reason not to move it, so be it, but if we can accommodate and move, I say do it.

I've noticed that there is some rigorist/traditionalist notion that making things harder and more inconvenient makes them somehow better and more desirable. I think this notion stems from spiritual pride--particularly in the cases where one looks at others and thinks ill of them ("they're just lazy/not devout enough") for not being inclined to take up the same, more rigorous forms of devotion. I don't think most people who feel this way are even particularly conscious of it, but I suspect if they examined their consciences, they may find it is so. I know for myself, I have progressively become more aware of such tendencies in my own life over the years.

As for myself, I've decided to submit my judgment to that of the Church. If She says that, in our current cultural milieu, this or that is or is not required, I'll follow it. I won't try to make up new obligations for others that She doesn't give us. I may (and actually do) take additional devotions and even obligations upon myself, both personal and as a lay Dominican, but I don't think everyone should do those, much less that they should be enshrined into canon law.

This is not to say that "doing the minimum" is a good aspiration by any means, only that I think we should not "tie up big burdens that are hard to bear and lay them on others' shoulders." (Matt 23:4) It's one thing to challenge and inspire people to be better by the excellence of one's own life, quite another to try to insist that they be better (and think ill of them when they aren't).

The reality is that we are all called to be perfect as Christ and the Father are perfect (Matt 5:48, Jo 10:30). That's a tall order that none of us is able to achieve of our own accord (Ro 3:10,20). The obligations of the Church walk a fine line between inducing us towards living up to that ideal and creating opportunities for yet more sin. St. Paul wrote about how the Law, in a sense, created sin (Ro 7:7ff).  He also wrote about the grace and freedom we have in Christ--that it is not our perfection that makes us perfect but rather the merits of Christ being attributed to us through grace (Ro 3:24, passim). Does that mean we should sin more that grace may abound more? "Absolutely not!," he answered emphatically (Ro 6:2). And yet it remains that our fundamental orientation under the New Law is towards grace and perfection in Christ, not of our own works--lest anyone of us should boast (Eph 2:9).

So I think the Church, while Her various laws and precepts have changed over the years, is wise to minimize those which may inadvertently lead to yet more sin. And besides, surely there are plenty of ways to encourage and lead people to greater holiness than ecclesiastical law?


P.S. One of my Facebook buddies suggested the idea of simply making it not an obligation but still observing it on Thursday. That's not a bad idea, in my book.

Feast of the Incarnation

Today I saw someone tweet that "Christmas does NOT commemorate the INCARNATION of our Lord, but His NATIVITY." Seems relatively harmless, right? Here's another example of the same sentiment, rightly corrected by Fr. McNamara.

What's the problem? Simply put, the Feast of the Nativity of Christ (Christmas) is about the Incarnation. Fr. McNamara offers a pretty good, concise clarification. I'd like to elaborate a bit. First off, in the Orthodox tradition (see this and this, for example), the Nativity is inextricably related to the Incarnation. In the first reference, Archbishop Dmitri says "…the Nativity of Christ (December 25). Eight days later (January 1) we remembered the Circumcision of Christ and then His Baptism (January 6). The commemoration of these events in our Lord's earth [sic] life basically form one feast, the feast of the Incarnation of God the Word." In the second, His Grace Bishop Youssef uses "Feast of the Nativity" and "Feast of the Incarnation" interchangeably. I mention these because sometimes the Orthodox can give us a bit more insight into the ancient Christian faith than we get from only Roman Catholic sources.

Now back to Fr. McNamara, he notes that "the prayers used during Advent are taken from the ancient manuscripts known as the Scroll of Ravenna (fifth-sixth centuries) and the Gelasian sacramentary (seventh century). Their constant theme is the coming of Christ, both in the incarnation (first coming) and at the end of time (second coming)." He goes on to note that the Nativity was celebrated earlier than the Annunciation, and that these prayers that relate the Incarnation to Christmas are correspondingly more ancient.

It seems pretty clear to me that the chief meaning of the celebration of the Nativity is the Incarnation—the Word become flesh. It'd probably be helpful to distinguish between the basic, biological event of the incarnation and the Incarnation as a theological reality. Those who make the point in the tweet above are thinking (presumably) only of the former; the problem is that this is not the way that the Church traditionally thinks about it.

The feast of the Annunciation has its own particular emphasis on Mary's awesome and unique role in salvation history—her immaculateness and her fiat. That it follows this event would also be, biologically speaking, the beginning of Christ's life on earth seems to me to be of secondary concern for the Annunciation, and I think it is only recently that focusing on that aspect in relation to the Annunciation has become en vogue in Catholic circles due to pro-life concerns.

From a biological point of view (a pro-life-concern point of view), yes, it is the point in time when the Word took on human nature. But that's just not the point. You see, we know that the Word is eternal—from the beginning, and it is this Divine nature that makes the Incarnation so special. The Incarnation is first and foremost a theological event, not a biological one. This theological event of the Incarnation, you might say, is ultimately what the Annunciation all about. So if we're going to give the Annunciation celebration a secondary meaning, it should be the wonder at the Incarnation, not so much the fact that it was biologically the beginning of Jesus' human life.

Looking at it like this—with the Incarnation (as a theological event) as the central focus (and not the human conception of Jesus)—it's not hard to see that we can just as rightfully celebrate the Incarnation at Christmas. You see, the biological events (conception and birth) are not the important things here. There's nothing particularly special, unique, or wonderful about them in themselves—it is the Incarnation, the Word become flesh, that gives them both significance. And indeed, as Archbishop Dmitri points out, the other events in Jesus' earthly life are also occasions to celebrate the Incarnation. As events that situate Jesus as a real human being in time/history, they are important, but those are more like the background to the theological story. The Incarnation is not (just) about Jesus' human conception; it's about God becoming man so that man might become God (St. Athanasius). It's just that awesome.

So what bugs me about the tweet (apart from it being something of a novelty and historically ill-advised) is that it inadvertently obscures and diminishes the deeper, more important meaning and value of these two feasts. In a way, it subjugates the Incarnation to the pro-life cause, which is just wrong.

When speaking of the Incarnation, perhaps it'd more better to speak of the feasts of the Incarnation (instead of just one), or to speak of it, as Archbishop Dmitri did, as one mystical feast that spans many particular holy days (mirroring the same reality of Christ's Incarnation lived out across many days on earth). But in any case, it certainly is valid, good, and part of our ancient Tradition to celebrate the Incarnation during Advent and Christmas. Enjoy!

Sts. Cyril and Methodius Day, Anyone?

I guess I need to say the Office for a few more years before I get used to the fact that we don't actually celebrate St. Valentine's day in the current Roman (Catholic) calendar. It was a pleasant surprise, though, when I opened the Liturgy of the Hours on Saturday morning to be greeted by the memorial of Saints Cyril and Methodius, who were 9th century missionaries to the Slavic peoples. And you guessed, they created what would come to be known as the Cyrillic alphabet. Pretty cool, huh?

Of St. Valentine himself, we know basically nothing. Actually, there is more than one St. Valentine that we honor as an early martyr, but that's about all we know about their lives (which is enough, really). The various legends surrounding him are just that, and as far as I can make out, the correlation of St. Valentine with the lovey-dovey originates thanks to Chaucer who, using typical poetic license, noted St. Valentine's day's correspondence with certain birdly springtime activity.

I'm not saying we shouldn't celebrate it in the popular fashion of being extra sweet to our beloveds. I'm just pointing out that we have even more to celebrate (saints and martyrs) than just our feelings for each other.

In any case, I'm rapidly approaching my tenth anniversary, so Valentine's day is not such a big deal around here. This year, as it was two years ago, it was the official date of getting new phones. Two years ago, the wifey got a pink Razr, this year, a pink(-cased) iPhone. And flowers, of course. Can't get away without those, even after 10 years... :)