Eucharistic Adoration: A Step Forward

Dear Anna Arco tweeted today about Fr. McBrien's latest spiel on his blog with the statement "NCR's Fr. O'Brien dismissively calls Adoration a "step backward". He neglects to explain why." Needless to say, that grabbed my attention. Not because I latch onto every apparently unorthodox thing Fr. McBrien says--I don't have the time for that--but because I have relatively recently come to a very personal, experiential appreciation for Eucharistic adoration.

The "old" Catholic Encyclopedia speaks about the "adorableness of the Eucharist." I just love that phrase; I can't help it because I look over at my youngest son of 7 months and think about his adorableness. Of course, we're talking about totally different meanings of "adorable," but there is something in the deep movement of affection that is common to both.

Unfortunately, it wasn't until recently that I really knew this. Of course, that we can and should adore the Eucharist follows from what we believe about it--that it is truly, really, actually the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. The change is not temporary; as long as the host remains incorrupt, the real presence of God remains. This I knew since well before I became Catholic and gave complete assent to.

And yet, despite this mental assent, I was reluctant to actually practice it. I think this was mainly due in part to laziness and in part due to some clinging on of my Protestant predispositions. Thankfully, my lay Dominican chapter president, Mr. Robert Ellis, O.P., decided to make Adoration a part of our monthly gathering. It was thanks to him, doubtless the Spirit working through him, that I was first exposed to Adoration experientially.

Adoration is one of those things that is truly ineffable. Because of that, there is little point my trying to describe it, but I'll just say that it has had a rather profound impact on my life. It sort of reminds me of runners who say that you just have to do it in order to understand why they like it. It's a kind of high, but instead of a natural, it is a supernatural high. At least that's been my experience.

Now Fr. McBrien comes along and says that Adoration is a step backwards. He says that Adoration is only good for pedagogy--for teaching people about the Real Presence. The thing is, Fr. McBrien seems to be confused as to the nature of the Real Presence. He says, "The transformation (the medieval word was 'transubstantiation') is sacramental, not literal or physical." Then a bit later, "they have been changed sacramentally, not literally or physically, into the body and blood of Christ."

I think maybe I can begin to see the root of the problem. He seems to have a very vague and somewhat inaccurate notion of the Real Presence. He claims that transubstantiation is a "medieval word." It is true that it was coined then, but the Church has kept and cherished that word and even uses it today as the most fitting description of what happens (see Catechism #1376). I've run into even orthodox priests who seem to belittle transubstantiation as some rarified or antiquated way of explaining things, so I don't fault McBrien too much for his implicit attempt to marginalize it.

And yet I must blame him and them, because it is important that we be clear on this. Even if you don't understand the fineries of Aristotelian categories, it doesn't take a PhD to understand the basic ideas of substance and accidents. Indeed, it seems these days it takes a PhD to not understand them! Or at least to attempt to divest them of their power in explaining things.

The Church has been painfully precise and clear in defining the Real Presence. The CathEn goes as far as to say "Eventually the West became the classic home of scientific perfection in the difficult doctrine of Transubstantiation." And ecumenical councils, catechisms, and doubtless every official means through which the Church lays out our doctrine has confirmed the understanding conveyed by transubstantiation.

So it seems pretty arrogant, if done intentionally, to cast the term aside today. And whether or not it is arrogant, it certainly should not be done without offering a better substitute.

And what does McBrien offer? Not only does he say, vaguely, "sacramentally," but he also seems to explicitly deny a right understanding of the Real Presence by saying "not literally" and "not physically." If it is not literally changed into the Body and Blood of Christ, then how is it changed? Imaginarily? Allegorically? If it is not physically changed into our Lord's Body and Blood, then how is it changed? Spiritually? Ideally?

He says "sacramentally." Of course it is sacramentally changed! It's a sacrament! Can you be more vague? Coupled with his denial of a literal and physical change, the reader is left to come up with all kinds of imaginings as to how the change occurs.

The Church, on the other hand, is very clear on how it is changed. It is changed substantially, and not just partially substantially (i.e., it does not retain any of the substance of bread and wine as in impanation or consubstantiation) but fully substantially--there is no substance of bread and wine left. It must be admitted that both the Body and Blood of Christ and bread and wine have physical substance; therefore, it is not accurate to say that the change occurring at the consecration is not physical. You could say it is "not only physical," but you can't just say "not physical."

And what can we say about "not literally" beyond verbalized puzzlement. What does McBrien intend by this? Sadly, I fear it may expose a susceptibility to materialism or at least a materialistic outlook because the only viable meaning I can derive is that he means essentially the same thing as "not physically" such that it is simply reiterating his misconception, only with deeper implications. In "not literally," he is not just denying the physical change but also any actual change at all. Coupled with "not physically," it is an apparent denial that there is a meaningful reality beyond the physical such that you could rightly say it literally (i.e., actually/in effect) changes.

What is even more saddening is that I think McBrien is representing what is these days a majority Catholic (at least Western/American Catholic) understanding of the Eucharist. They say with their mouths "real presence" but have no adequate conception of what that means. They truly do not believe it literally or physically changes.

It is no wonder then that McBrien would assert that Adoration is a step backward. It is no wonder that Catholics of that ilk are all too keen on relocating the tabernacle safely out of the way. It is no wonder that they are more keen on community, "being Church," and a "common meal" than on the awesome, actual, literal, physical and spiritual presence of God we encounter in the Eucharist.

Ironically, McBrien says that we don't need Adoration any more because "most Catholics are literate and even well-educated, the Mass is in the language of the people (i.e, the vernacular), and its rituals are relatively easy to understand and follow." He contrasts this supremely educated state of Catholics today with the unwashed masses of the past who needed this "extraneous eucharistic devotion" to educate them on the Real Presence. It is ironic because it is painfully clear to me and other Catholics who truly do understand the Real Presence that he (and many others like him) just don't get it. It is ironic because it is clear to us that we need Adoration precisely because of folks like him.

In those eminently dismissable medieval times, there was a problem of poorly educated priests. In hearing McBrien and other priests who share his views, it seems we have that problem again, only now they are often well educated--just in all the wrong ways--and, apparently, lacking true, Catholic faith. When we pray for priests in this year of priests, we need especially to remember Fr. McBrien and other priests who have apparently lost their way, however well-intentioned and good they might otherwise be.

Perhaps we should pray that the Spirit would lead them to spend some time in Adoration and find what I found--that it is a great wellspring of grace and a deepening and maturing of faith, that is, a real step forward in one's sanctification.

UPDATE (21 Sept 2009): I was a little surprised in doing refresher study around this just now to find an explicit anathema for those who hold McBrien's position--see Canon VI of the 13th Session. Dang, I shoulda just found that and saved myself a blog post. :-)

Review: Sexual Authenticity

I recently finished Sexual Authenticity (blog) by Melinda Selmys, and I thought it was good. One could say many fine things about how Melinda speaks honestly and openly about her own experience as a homosexual and her journey thence to her current state as a happily married Catholic mother. One could laud that she doesn't regurgitate the stereotypical or ideological polemics in treating the subject as it is dealt with in the media and literature (on both sides). One could reflect on how she deftly catches the average Christian mentally red handed in his prejudices (and in that group I include myself).

As I said, one could and should offer many commendations to her for her prose, but the thing I found most praiseworthy was her integral treatment of sex in the human person, including how it pertains to God. She identifies rightly that the essential ailment of our society is not the current trends towards the acceptance of homosexual unions but rather an impoverished understanding of sexuality and marriage in general. It is heartening to find I am not alone in this perception, though I certainly lack the depth of experience and research Melinda has on the topic of homosexuality.

I learned from her, and I found her treatment of the theology of the body to be insightful. I have yet to take up that work of John Paul II, but I have encountered a number of accounts of it, many of which seem to me, not even being familiar with the source, superficial. Melinda's treatment resonated deeply, and perhaps as a result of her own recounting of her penchant towards philosophy, and just seeing it throughout her writing, I am inclined to think her treatment is true to the source.

Similarly, I have taken up other books on sexuality from a Catholic perspective. Too many of them are self-congratulatory and, dare I say, sickeningly pious. I consider myself one more inclined to religious fervor than your average Joe, but they were too much, even for me. Not so with Sexual Authenticity. One of my favorite bits was this:

Lighten up. Sex is fun, it's relaxing, it's ridiculous. The problem with all of us Catholics is that we have this airy-fairy, pie-in-the-sky, überserious understanding of sexuality. For the rest of the world--and even for most of the sane Catholics--it's nothing like that at all. When was the last time that you made love to your husband, or wife, and thought "Oh! We are becoming one! We are the sacramental manifestation of Christ's love for His Church! We are the Image of the intimate life of the Holy Trinity!" Never. What you're really thinking is, "The baby had better not wake up halfway through like last time. I wish he'd had a shower in the last week. Did I remember to turn the dishwasher on?" Right? So don't give me all this nonsense about how sex is holy and must be kept in a shining tabernacle, protected from the blasphemy of condoms and fur-lined handcuffs. Get real, take yourselves less seriously, put your high horse in the stable, and have some fun like everybody else.

!! I was laughing out loud reading this. And it goes on. It was so good of her to do this, to balance out the saccharine treatment sex often gets from Catholics. This is part of what makes the book so authentic, that and the fact that she doesn't let this acknowledgment contradict the real truths that we can indeed get so sappy about. As she follows on: "How a person experiences sex--the individual, and in some sense unrepeatable, experience of making love on a particular day--is a different matter from what sex, as an element of human reality, means." And thus begins her exposition of the theology of the body.

There's a lot more to say, but I'll leave that for you read. It was honest. It was instructive. It was relatable. It was true. It's a good book that you should read no matter where you stand on these issues. You'll get something good out of it.

Thanks to the Catholic Company for sharing this book with me.