Quote du Jour (Religion Department)

H/T to Rocco Palmo at Whispers in the Loggia, Fr. Austin Fleming at A Concord Pastor Comments, and Philomena Ewing at Blue Eyed Ennis who posted longer excerpts from a piece about the Vatican-sponsored meeting for bloggers on May 2.

The full article appeared in L'Osservatore Romano on May 22, 2011. Here's what caught my attention and to which I immodestly respond with, "Here I am, Rome, please choose the path of listening to Catholics like me!"
 

Let us seek, then, to reflect on the ideas raised in this dialogue, even the most suggestive, interesting and even slightly provocative, to highlight the necessity of not letting this meeting of bloggers remain only one event to be consigned to the annals of history, but that it becomes the first step of a long path of listening to the many people who wish to speak with us.

─  Cardinal Gianfranco Ravasi, President of the Pontifical Council for Culture

About that Vatican Blogger Meet-Up on May 2

Follow-up to my post appearing here on May 4, 2011:

I'm going ahead with this post now but it should come as no surprise that I could spend more time contemplating what came through the public Twitter stream when bloggers met at the Vatican (#VBM11).

Life in the church being what it is, many of the Roman Catholic bloggers I respect are now embroiled (read: skewered and barbequed) in the latest poop-storm. Which one? The one about whether there's any Biblical, scriptural or historical basis for women's ordination to the diaconate. I've opted-out of that conversation, my neuro-immune system cannot handle it.*

For some strange reason, possibly the fact that I earn my so-called living as a communications professional, I do have enough oomph to continue discussing church communications in general and social media in particular.

Assuming a baseline of good intentions and deep desire to serve God and Christ among all participants, I wish to point out to the Holy See (via the Pontifical Council for Social Communications) that social media, by definition, are:

• community-based, generated and sustained;
• inherently democratic and highly participatory;
• more tactically and technologically diverse than blogs; and
• an opportunity to revive  and restore respect for the priesthood of all believers.

Instead of worrying about who is or is not faithful to the Magisterium, I prayerfully suggest we use social media wisely and well to:

•  reveal and be Christ to one another;
• deliver the Gospel message of love, mercy and forgiveness;
• represent the Catholic imagination with sanity and civility; and
• welcome everyone and anyone to the fullness of life in Christ.

Amen?

May I also rouse an "alleluia" or is that pushing it?


* If your neuro-immune system can handle it, then by all means, go read comments on Deacon Greg Kandra's blog, The Deacon's Bench, relative to this topic. The anger, venom, and sheer stupidity evident in far-too-many of the comments is staggering. These are my brothers in Christ? God, help me.

Vatican Blogger Meet-Up Convenes & Concludes

Well, the big meet-up for Roman Catholic* bloggers happened on Monday, May 2. Thanks to Twitter (and Tweetdeck and Tweetchat) I was able to follow lots of what was discussed and meet some like-hearted pals in the process.

Yes, I have thoughts and opinions, some of which I shared, real time, in the public Twitter stream. Remember, if you will, that my "lively" commentary on all things church is informed not only by my Jewish upbringing but also my training in Sociology. Truth to tell, Dr. Gould is still processing data. After all, I did write a book about church communications! (The Word Made Fresh: Communicating Church and Faith Today.)

Dr. Ironic Catholic, who attended #VBM11 in real life (rather than virtually) has swiftly rolled out her always-insightful, always-wise commentary about what went on. Read it here: Reflections on the Vatican Blogmeet.

Note: It's very long and because of the formatting, looks extraordinarily dense. Read it anyway! Really.  Read it. All of it...might be on the final exam.

* Ever notice how I usually take care to modify the word "Catholic" with Roman? That's because there are lots of other Catholic communions. This too shall be on the final exam.

Vatican Invites Catholic Bloggers!

Here's the full text of the announcement on the page of The Pontifical Council for Social Communications where, when you scroll down, you can see the list of 150 invited bloggers. Don't bother looking for my name ─ I'm not on it.

Why would I have to apply? You'd think coming up with Vatican Year of the Kitty would have endeared me to B16 and ensured winning the lottery draw. Either that or my reverence for his footwear and my insightful, incisive comments about the Vatican's revelation (last year) about social media. Yes, I'm kidding. Sort of. Maybe.

I was thrilled to see that Lisa Hendey was on the list. Lisa's blog CatholicMom.com is not only the Gold Standard for these types of blogs but has also been a long-time supporter of my writing. I admire her ability to be faithful and gracious enough to embrace a wide spectrum of Catholic thinking and writing.

See if you can guess my most favorite paragraph and, for the record, I do think this is a very nicely crafted announcement.

Dear friends,

The following is the list of 150 bloggers invited to attend in person the meeting taking place in via della conciliazione, 5, on Monday 2 May.

Over 750 requests were made and a hard decision-making process had to be put in place to ensure, as much as is possible, a broad representation of the blogosphere. There are some famous bloggers and some new bloggers, some are institutional, others personal, some tell vocational stories and others comment on international news or local issues. Some are well-financed, most are run on a shoestring.

It was touching being involved in your issues, from coping with death, to the joys of parenting, the hopefulness of youth, to fear of change, not to mention the many causes and campaigns promoted, particularly in the new evangelisation. While some pre-choices were made to ensure a diversified presence, for the final selection we simply gave each blogger a number and had someone choose numbers randomly.

I hope those not on the list will not feel excluded. The bloggers present in the Room will surely keep you informed and engaged. They may even organise a livestream.  It is also to be hoped that this is just the beginning of a dialogue.

The 150 will receive further indications after Easter, but should note now that we are not covering your expenses – the invitation was always intended for bloggers who would be in Rome for the Beatification.

Selection to attend does not imply Vatican approval of the contents of any of the blogs.  Neither does non-selection imply disapproval.

Thanking you for your patience and understanding – this has already been a good learning experience for us.

Richard Rouse

Enduring Acts of God

In the aftermath of earthquakes, what gets to me are the pictures of collapsed cathedrals. I define "gets to me" as being initially stunned, then haunted, then fixated. A year has passed and I can easily conjure up the image of Notre Dame (Roman Catholic) Cathedral of Port-au-Prince.

Now scenes of rubble around Roman Catholic and Anglican cathedrals in Christchurch, New Zealand are getting to me. I've been digging deeper into my fascination with these images of earthquake damage. It has not escaped my notice that these glorious exemplars of human art and engineering have been trashed by what are commonly known as "acts of God."

I love cathedrals, have felt my soul soothed and spirit lifted by simply walking through their much-larger-than-life portals. So imagine my surprise to find myself thinking that the physical destruction of church buildings albeit sad, might not be such a bad thing. Human life is, after all, more valuable than property, I would say this is especially true and worth remembering when it comes to church and faith.

This past week, I've observed myself wondering how people of faith might be inspired to come together as community when grandiose buildings become uninhabitable. The structural damage to these cathedrals has prompted me to consider, once again, what it means to be church.

Image: Notre Dame Cathedral, Port-au-Prince, Haiti

Ecumenical Escapades

My two most favorite lines of the Creed follow one another: "We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church. We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins." I find great comfort in these words. Opportunities to recite them multiplied during this summer's ecumenical escapades.

Thanks to Twitter, I (sort of) attended two important church-wide assemblies from the comfort of my hermitage. In July, I was fixated on what Episcopalians were up to during their 76th General Convention (GC) in Anaheim California.

Last week, I was captivated by the Churchwide Assembly of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA) in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

(In both instances, I couldn't resist jumping into the conversations. My ecumenical network has expanded exponentially as a result.)

And if I'm fascinated by how internecine battles threaten to rupture church unity, I'm even more intrigued by how each communion recuperates from self-inflicted battle wounds. (Case in point: on Friday, I sent an audio clip of pastoral remarks made by Bishop Mark Hanson to the ELCA assembly to several Roman Catholic and Episcopal friends.) The fact that I am neither Episcopalian nor Lutheran, prompted one Twitter bud to quip, "You are obviously a synodaholic." Proudly guilty as charged, Reverend Scott Gun.

Yes, I'm enthralled by the messiness of Christianity as practiced by Roman Catholic, Lutheran, and Anglican/Episcopal churches -- probably because I was baptized as an adult; definitely because I was raised Jewish and cannot help but notice a certain redundancy in it all.

For an excellent account of the ELCA event(s), please visit BayaThread, a blog written by Baya Clare, CSJ.

SSPX Drek

I haven't put up any blog posts about my reactions to the current Vatican-generated mess relative to Catholic-Jewish relations.

For one thing, I'm barely managing my grief and fear-based nausea. For another, my favorite bloggers are writing what I'd write if I managed to manage my grief and fear-based nausea.

What could I possibly add to what they've written about the pernicious persistence of anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism? Perhaps this:

I can't imagine the SSPX drek comes as any surprise to Jews who tend to view Anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism as church "business as usual." I wonder whether people in Christian-Jewish dialogue realize this mind-and-heart set prevails among Jews -- even for this convert, called to love Christ and serve the church.




Image: Agony in the Garden of Gethsemane by El Greco, c. 1590

Life as a Personal Aide: Liturgical Version

Being a personal aide to someone with quadriplegia is a blessing. Being a personal aide to one who is also a disabilities rights activist is a kick in the butt. I know, I know...I should be grateful that I can stand up to get my butt kicked. Ruth, after all, cannot.

The latest kick in my able-bodied butt has to do with realizing how tough it can be for people with disabilities to receive Communion. While it's fine with me if anyone in a wheelchair or on crutches wants to come up the aisle, I've noticed how it's clearly not fine for others.

And so whenever I have the privilege of distributing the Eucharist, I walk forward to meet people with disabilities. I do not expect them to roll or hobble all the way up to me. I'll also serve seated people with disabilities first, kneeling to make eye contact, and taking our sweet Jesus time in the process. I do this not to get them "handled" or "out of the way" but to honor the courage and strength it took for them to get there at all.

Guess what? Religious organizations are not required to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). Our worship and religious education spaces -- and the bathrooms that go with them -- do not have to be physically accessible. Our churches, synagogues, and mosques are under no legal obligation to provide American Sign Language translation or braille worship aids. If any of these accommodations are made, it's because someone took the moral high ground and then scraped together the funding to make accessibility possible.

For the past few years, transportation issues have prevented Ruth from attending and participating in the Mass. Maybe that'll change now that she has the van. Maybe not. She's understandably tired of the eye rolling, dramatic sighs, and sotto voce muttering about being in the way that frequently accompanies her appearance in the power chair.

I'm not sure taking the manual chair is a solution, although God knows I'd welcome the opportunity to mutter "repent" and "get out of the way" while navigating it up the nave with her in it. Might be a great way to kick off the new liturgical year.

Brawling Monks!

This morning's headline story from Jerusalem, Monks brawl at site of crucifixion, should not have perked me up but I confess to you, my sisters and brothers, it did. According to this report, Armenian and Greek Orthodox monks came to fisticuffs at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

The tussle took place at the Edicule, an edifice marking the site of Jesus' tomb. In fact, the entire church site is divided among six Christian sects who apparently cannot resist fighting over turf rights. This latest skirmish had to be handled by Israeli riot police in assault gear.

And why did this perk me up? I feel an odd sort of sociological thrill whenever I encounter evidence for how the formal institution of church subverts faith. These events help refocus my attention on Almighty God.

Image from: www.bibleplaces.com

Seeing Christ in everyone, maybe...

I can explain the loud explosion followed by the sound of a moist splat this morning at approximately 11:00 AM Eastern Time. That was the sound of my brain exploding out of my skull when I read what John L. Allen reported from the Synod of Bishops in Rome.

The pressure started to build as I read Bishop Salvatore Fisichella's comments about Christianity being a "religion of the Word" as opposed to a "religion of the Book." And then, instead of switching screens to feed my virtual goldfish, I kept reading down to the very last bullet point wherein Bishop Filippo Santoro of Brazil is reported as having raised the "issue" of Extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist. Here's what he has to say about us:

"by themselves, and in themselves, [they] do not arouse an encounter with Christ, [but rather] can end up exacerbating the bureaucratization of the church."

Oh really? So much for seeing Christ in one another. I guess this means holding and distributing the Eucharist doesn't count either. Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison.

Catholic Karaoke

Having arrived at the 12:10 Mass as the opening antiphon is ending, I slide into the nearest pew instead of scanning the church. I'll have more to say about church seating maneuvers in another post. This post is about the octogenarian seated in front of me. Feature this: The senior citizen seated in front of me is lip-syncing the entire liturgy.

I notice this especially after the Liturgy of the Word is completed and the Liturgy of the Eucharist begins. Yep, no doubt about it. She is not praying the Rosary. She is lip-syncing the entire liturgy. Entire. Liturgy. All the words. In order. Along with the septuagenarian priest.

Try as I might, I cannot place my thoughts elsewhere. I think, "Good thing you're not getting captured on hidden video in the Archdiocese of St. Louis."

So at this point during Mass, as is often the case for many Catholics except I write about it, I'm struggling to pay attention. But hey, at least I am not getting all distracted by screaming infants. No, I am getting all distracted by thoughts about Church history, in part because I'm currently reading Women in Christianity by Hans Küng. I figure I'll get back in line -- so to speak -- when it's time to receive Communion.

It's time to receive Communion. I go up. She stays put and I think, "Wow! Are you excommunicating yourself for lip-syncing the consecration?" I'm dying to ask her -- an idiom I don't at all mind using given my belief in the Risen Lord. Instead, I decide to mind my own beeswax, especially on this feast day for the patron saint of beekeepers.

After the dismissal (which she lip-syncs) she turns to me and asks, "Why weren't you the lector today?" I tell her I wasn't on the schedule and ask, "Why didn't you receive Communion?" She tells me why. By now our hands are clasped together. Christ is present. I decide not to ask her about the Catholic karaoke thing...just yet.