By Father Kenneth Doyle • Catholic News Service
Questions may be sent to Father Kenneth Doyle at email@example.com and 40 Hopewell St., Albany, NY 12208.
June 19, 2017
Dementia and Holy Communion/Confession trauma
My father is 86 years old and was raised in the Catholic Church. He was considered an intellectual and earned his Ph.D. in philosophy.
He became a nonpracticing Catholic and in fact rejected the church, although he had a thirst for justice and continued to treasure the church’s teachings on human rights.
Now he has dementia and has begun to join me at Sunday Mass.
Last week, he followed me up to Communion and received the Eucharist. I feel conflicted and am unsure as to whether I should encourage him to do this. Please advise. (Peachtree City, Georgia)
I would let your father take the lead; if he is inclined to take Communion, he is entitled to do so.
Let me offer some background.
In the present-day Latin-rite Catholic Church, one must have the use of reason to receive holy Communion. (Eastern-rite Catholics are given Communion as infants, and this was also true in the early centuries in the Roman rite.)
In 1995, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops published a document entitled “Guidelines for the Celebration of the Sacraments with Persons with Disabilities,” which included the following statement: “The criterion for reception of holy Communion is the same for persons with developmental and mental disabilities as for all persons, namely, that the person be able to distinguish the body of Christ from ordinary food, even if this recognition is evidenced through manner, gesture or reverential silence rather than verbally.”
Quickly that same document goes on to note that “cases of doubt should be resolved in favor of the right of the baptized person to receive the sacrament.”
Since it likely is difficult to ascertain exactly what your father comprehends, I would award him the benefit of the doubt and encourage him to take Communion, if that is what he wants.
(Nor would I “grill” him on just what he understands the Eucharist to be; after all, how does it hurt anyone for him to be receiving reverently?)
If, on the other hand – and I have seen this on a couple of occasions in nursing homes –- someone were to take the host in and out of their mouth repeatedly and not consume it, I would not offer that person Communion again and would simply give a blessing instead.
Recently I went to confession because I felt that my big sin was that I had utter disdain for our country’s leader, Donald Trump. (Admittedly, I am a staunch supporter of the Democratic Party.)
I told the priest that I had been so traumatized by the presidential election that I had become physically as well as emotionally ill — and that I had, in fact, been compelled to undergo a heart catheterization and an echocardiogram.
The priest proceeded to tell me in the confessional that my party had had its way for eight years and that it was the Republican Party’s turn. (He also said that I was being selfish.)
I have prayed about this and have asked God to forgive me. The priest absolved me from my sin, but I continue to be haunted by the whole experience.
I would appreciate your thoughts so that I can put my mind and my heart to rest. (Illinois)
Assuming that you heard the priest correctly and have conveyed his comments accurately, the priest was out of line and I apologize on the church’s behalf.
A priest – from the pulpit, in the confessional or anywhere as a public representative of the Church – must take care to advocate only for issues and not be seen as endorsing or opposing particular candidates or political parties.
As for yourself, I’m not sure what you thought your sin was; people’s response to public figures runs the gamut and is not necessarily sinful.
But your health should be your paramount concern, so maybe you need to shield yourself a bit from the daily avalanche of political news.
June 5, 2017
Why does the Church oppose adoption by same-sex couples?
I read recently in the Catholic press that representatives of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) had written a letter in support of the Child Welfare Provider Inclusion Act.
That legislation would protect social service agencies who refuse, on religious grounds, to provide adoption services for same-sex couples.
Does that mean that the Catholic Church is opposed to such adoptions? (Queensbury, New York)
In 2003, the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith said that permitting adoption by same-sex couples is “gravely immoral,” and it highlighted in particular the rights of children that would be violated.
The statement explained that “the absence of sexual complementarity in these unions creates obstacles in the normal development of children. They would be deprived of the experience of either fatherhood or motherhood.
“Allowing children to be adopted by parents living in such unions would actually mean doing violence to these children.”
The Congregation added that such a placement would openly contradict the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child that had made the best interests of the child “the paramount consideration in every case.”
That position of the Church has since been reiterated several times and remains unchanged.
In 2010, when Pope Francis was still Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Argentina, he noted that adoption by same-sex couples would result in “depriving (children) of the human growth that God wanted them given by a father and a mother.”
In 2015, following a gay pride march in Rome, Pope Francis repeated his belief that children need a mother and a father.
The identity of children, said the pope, “matures (when it is) confronted with the love their father and mother have, confronted with this difference.”
The 2017 statement by the USCCB to which your question refers stemmed from the fact that in recent years Catholic Charities agencies in Massachusetts, Illinois, California and the District of Columbia had been forced by the government to shut down their adoption and foster care service because they refused, on religious grounds, to place children with same-sexcouples.
The Child Welfare Provider Inclusion Act, now before both houses of Congress, would prohibit discrimination against such agencies and allow them to continue their work without being compelled to violate their consciences.
My question has to do with the role of a deacon. Our own parish deacon had been preaching at our weekend Masses once a month, but lately that has crept up to twice a month.
Recently he preached the homily at Masses on Easter Sunday and also on the following Sunday, which happened to be first Communion in our parish.
Our priest-pastor is young and, as far as I know, healthy.
Is it normal for a deacon to play such a large role so frequently, especially on such important occasions (City of origin withheld)
There is no exact guideline as to the frequency of a deacon’s preaching.
That having been said, I think that your concern stands on good ground. Deacons are authorized to preach by the church’s Code of Canon Law; Canon 764 says that “presbyters (priests) and deacons possess the faculty of preaching everywhere.”
And while that canon expresses no preference or priority, the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (which is the official liturgical “rule book” of the church) clearly does.
Section 66 states that “the homily should ordinarily be given by the priest celebrant himself or be entrusted by him to a concelebrating priest, or from time to time and, if appropriate, to the deacon.”
To your question, for a deacon to preach regularly two Sundays a month, in my mind, runs counter to this provision.
(I also think, although there’s no rule on this, that parishioners expect to hear from — and deserve to hear from — their pastor for such major celebrations as Easter and first Communion.)
May 22, 2017
Can a hospital nurse baptize a baby in danger of dying?
The other day I was told that if a baby, born to Catholic parents in a Catholic hospital, is in danger of dying, it is routine practice for a nurse — or whoever is available — to baptize the baby as soon as possible.
But what if the parents are members of some other Christian tradition — or no religion at all?
Would their permission be needed?
(I knew a nurse many years ago, a Catholic, who worked in the nursery of a nondenominational hospital. She never told me in so many words, but I got the idea that she made a practice of baptizing any baby whose condition was uncertain.) (Davenport, Iowa)
Ordinarily, the sacrament of baptism is administered only by a bishop, priest or deacon. An exception is made when death is imminent.
In that case, the Code of Canon Law indicates that baptism may be administered by anyone who has the proper intention (No. 861).
Ordinarily, too, the permission of at least one parent is necessary for a child to be baptized (No. 868); but again here, there is an exception: In danger of death, the sacrament may be administered against the parents’ wishes.
But the question is whether it should be.
St. Thomas Aquinas taught in the Summa Theologica that children of Jews and unbelievers should not be baptized against their parents’ wishes and that to do so would be “contrary to natural justice.”
Certainly, in the view of the Catholic Church, baptism is the ordinary and surest way to salvation.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church states: “The church does not know of any means other than baptism that assures entry into eternal beatitude; this is why she takes care not to neglect the mission she has received from the Lord to see that all who can be baptized are ‘reborn of water and the Spirit’” (No. 1257).
However, the catechism also says: “The great mercy of God … and Jesus’ tenderness toward children … allow us to hope that there is a way of salvation for children who have died without baptism” (No. 1261).
The nurse you mentioned should have first tried, if possible, to determine the parents’ wishes and then proceeded accordingly.
Growing up, I was always taught to genuflect with the right knee. But now I see more and more people using their left knee.
Has there been a change that I am not aware of?
Is it permissible to alternate knees? (Johnstown, Pennsylvania)
Right is right. According to the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, “a genuflection, made by bending the right knee to the ground, signifies adoration, and therefore it is reserved for the Most Blessed Sacrament” (No. 274).
The custom was formally approved by the Roman Catholic Church in the early 16th century.
(Note that it is only practiced in the Western Church; Eastern Catholics and members of the Orthodox Church use instead a profound bow as a sign of their deep reverence.)
Genuflection on the left knee was used to pay honor to kings and emperors (and, at certain times in the church’s history, to the bishop of one’s diocese), but the right knee is reserved to God alone as a sign of divine worship.
I can’t resist revealing one further thought when I receive a question like this one.
I wonder if it really matters a lot to God whether someone uses the right knee to genuflect or the left — especially when, according to the United Nations, about 21,000 people in the world die each day from hunger.
I believe that God pays more attention to our hearts than to our knees.
May 8, 2017
What is the difference between priest and monsignor?
Could you explain for me the difference (if any) between “priest” and “monsignor”?
Under what circumstances is a priest given the title of “monsignor”? (Burke, Virginia)
“Monsignor” is a title bestowed on a priest who has distinguished himself by exceptional service to the church. It is a title granted by the pope — typically, upon the recommendation of the priest’s diocesan bishop.
It is a purely honorary title and has no effect on the priest’s duties or ministerial assignment.
Nearly 50 years ago, the Priests’ Senate in my own diocese passed a resolution asking that our bishop no longer name any priests as monsignors.
As I recall our discussion, we felt that it was a medieval and inappropriate title (it derives from the Italian words meaning “my Lord”) and that its bestowal could cause hard feelings.
This would be not so much with priests who were passed over, but among parishioners whose own pastor had not been so honored.
So it was with some satisfaction that I noticed, in January 2014, that Pope Francis had instructed the bishops of the world that diocesan priests would no longer be awarded the title before reaching the age of 65.
No reasons were published for the pope’s decision, but Pope Francis has often cautioned priests against careerism and personal ambition.
He seems to have long felt uncomfortable about ecclesiastical titles; when he was a bishop and later a cardinal in Argentina, Pope Francis always asked people to call him “Father.”
And notably, while he served as archbishop of Buenos Aires (1998-2013), not once did he petition the Holy See to have one of his priests named a monsignor.
When I was growing up, we celebrated Passion Sunday and the statues in church were covered with purple cloths.
(As I remember, that symbolized Jesus’ hiding himself from the view of those who would soon crucify him.) Then, a week later, it was Palm Sunday, and we received the blessed palms.
The following weekend, we celebrated Easter. But for several years now, our parish has marked Passion Sunday and Palm Sunday on the same day, one week before Easter — and the statues are no longer covered.
So my question is this: When did these two Sundays become one, and why? (Indiana)
You are correct that, up until 1969, the church celebrated “Passion Sunday” two weeks before Easter.
A passion narrative was read as the Gospel passage for that day, and the church began to turn its focus to the sufferings of Jesus.
Since 1969, when the Vatican published new liturgical norms and the three-year cycle of readings, this particular Sunday is now called “the Fifth Sunday of Lent,” and the Gospel readings used in antiquity have been restored.
(This year, 2017, the Gospel passage tells of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.)
The purpose of the change, as I understand it, was to be able to devote the first five weeks of Lent, as it was in the church’s early history, to the preparation of catechumens for entrance into the church at Easter.
One vestige of the former calendar remains: Beginning on the Fifth Sunday of Lent, the practice of covering crosses and images in the church is permitted.
(Note that it is “permitted,” not mandated; discretion is given to the local pastor.)
Images (statues of saints, for example) are uncovered after the start of the Easter Vigil; crosses are unveiled on Good Friday, when the faithful are invited to venerate the cross.
I have never heard the explanation you propose for veiling the cross — namely, that Jesus is “hiding” from those who would crucify him.
The reason most commonly offered is that the veils represent a sort of “fasting” from the sacred depiction of what ultimately led to the glory of our salvation.
April 24, 2017
Where does the Church stand on gender change?
There has been a lot in the news lately about people who identify with the gender opposite the one listed on their birth certificate.
Some take hormones of the opposite sex; some even have surgery to “change” their sex.
What is the Catholic Church’s position on such transgender people?
Is it OK for them to take these hormones and have such surgery? (Alexandria, Virginia)
The Catechism of the Catholic Church says: “Except when performed for strictly therapeutic medical reasons, directly intended amputations, mutilations and sterilizations performed on innocent persons are against the moral law” (No. 2297).
That statement is generally considered by Catholic moral theologians to prohibit the sort of “sexual reassignment surgery” of which you speak.
Writing in 2005 for the National Catholic Bioethics Center, Dr. Richard Fitzgibbons noted, “It is impossible to ‘change’ a person’s sex. Hormone treatments, cosmetic surgery and surgery to mutilate the sex organs do not change a person’s sex.”
In the 2016 apostolic exhortation “Amoris Laetitia” (“The Joy of Love”), Pope Francis said that “the young need to be helped to accept their own body as it was created” (No. 285).
In a 2014 article in The Wall Street Journal, Dr. Paul McHugh, former chief psychiatrist at Johns Hopkins Hospital, referenced a 2011 long-term study that followed 324 people who underwent sexual reassignment surgeries.
The study showed that 10 years after the surgery, “the transgendered began to experience increasing mental difficulties” and “their suicide mortality rose almost 20-fold above the comparable nontransgender population.”
The Catholic Church’s view is that people struggling with gender dysphoria (apparent psychological identification with attributes of the opposite sex) should be shown compassion, protected from prejudice and treated with psychotherapy that is skilled and sympathetic.
For some time now, I have been disturbed by the fact that, several times a day, EWTN telecasts the Mass of that day without indicating that these Masses are prerecorded and not “live.”
Surely 99 percent of those watching feel that that they are participating in a real Mass.
This has significant import on the spiritual lives of the network’s viewers, especially on Sundays.
I have written repeatedly to the network urging them at least to precede such Masses with a statement indicating that the presentation is for inspirational purposes only and not a real Mass, but no adjustment has been made.
Do you agree with me that the station needs to correct this?
(While I am sure this is unintentional, the network is involved in a serious matter of deceptive spiritual broadcasting.) (Merion Station, Pennsylvania)
On Sundays and other holy days of obligation, a Catholic who is able to do so has a serious obligation to attend Mass, i.e., to participate personally in the eucharistic celebration.
If prevented, however, by sickness, infirmity due to old age, severe weather or other emergency, the obligation ceases; nor is that person then morally bound to “make up” for the absence by watching Mass on television (although this is certainly worthwhile.)
If the person is legitimately impeded from attending the Mass, it doesn’t have to “count” because there is no obligation in the first place.
Such a person is, in fact, watching the televised Mass for (in your words) “inspirational purposes” — in which case it matters not at all that the Mass has been prerecorded.
In my own diocese, where I was once responsible for arranging to have the Sunday Mass televised, we filmed those Masses on the previous Wednesday evening (because studio time was less expensive and priest-celebrants easier to find.)
So, to answer your question — no, I don’t think that EWTN is involved in “deceptive broadcasting” or needs to correct anything.
April 10, 2017
Can a divorced, remarried Catholic be a Eucharistic minister?
I am concerned as to whether a divorced and remarried Catholic can be a eucharistic minister?
Here is a local situation with which I am familiar. The first lady is a Catholic who had been a widow for some years; then she married a man who had been married three times before, and they were married by a Protestant minister.
The second lady, a Catholic who had been divorced from her first husband, later married a divorced man who is not a Catholic. (They, also, were married by a Protestant minister.)
Both of these women were eucharistic ministers before they remarried and still serve in that capacity today.
Is it wrong for them to continue to distribute Communion in a Catholic church?
(I don’t want to judge them, but it’s hard to ignore the situation. I have chosen not to take the host from either of these women.) (Indiana)
Someone who is married outside the Catholic Church — i.e., not by a Catholic priest or deacon and without the necessary “dispensations” (permissions) from the Catholic Church — is not, and should not be, allowed to serve as an extraordinary minister of holy Communion.
(An extraordinary minister of holy Communion gives public witness to his or her fidelity to church teaching.)
One of the things I’ve learned, though, is that I do not know everything about everyone’s personal life.
Although probably not likely, it is at least possible that the necessary annulments were obtained to determine that the present spouses were free to marry each other; and it’s even possible that permission was granted for a Protestant minister to officiate (perhaps because of a long-standing relationship between the groom and the minister).
So I would hold off on making any judgments.
Meanwhile, though, it would be wise for you to speak with a priest at the parish in question and tell him of your concern.
He may be able to assure you that everything has been done properly — or he may not be privy to the same information that you are and would want to take action to avoid continuing scandal.
When Jesus was dying on the cross, according to the Gospel, he cried out, “My God, why have you abandoned me?”
Why was he saying this?
Did he really feel that his Father had abandoned him? (Coxs Creek, Kentucky)
Half a century ago, when I first began to think about the meaning of scriptural verses, the conventional explanation was this: The passage you quote is only the first verse of Psalm 22, a prayer well-known to Jews of Christ’s time. That psalm, which begins as a cry of abandonment, actually ends up to be a prayer of hope and praise, a vote of confidence in God’s saving love.
Verse 25 of that psalm, for example, reads: “For (God) has not spurned or disdained the misery of this poor wretch, did not turn away from me, but heard me when I cried out.”
This explanation was meant to assure the questioner that Jesus, the divine Son of God, could never have felt distanced from his Father.
For me, to be honest, that explanation never rang true. Jesus did not “pretend” to be a human being.
He really was one of us, subject to all the vulnerabilities that we ourselves experience.
How could he not have felt isolated, even abandoned by God?
In the midst of his excruciating torture, all but one of his friends had fled in fear, their leader had denied even knowing Jesus, and Judas had betrayed him to his captors.
Fortunately, more than 20 years ago, Scripture scholarship caught up with what our instinct was telling us to be true. In the 1990s, Father Raymond Brown, then the world’s most noted Catholic New Testament scholar, argued that Jesus did truly feel abandoned as he hung on the cross.
Father Brown pointed to the fact that, while praying in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before, Jesus had addressed his Father with the Aramaic word “Abba,” a term of filial intimacy best rendered by our own word “Daddy.”
But here on the cross, just moments before his death, Jesus now uses the word “Eloi,” a much more formal term for “Lord,” indicating a greater sense of separation.
Personally, I feel much more attracted to this very real human being — and much more confident that he understands us in our own moments of loneliness.
March 27, 2017
Abstinence from meat on Fridays of Lent
I have always observed the fast and abstinence rules during Lent, but this year I find myself in a weird situation.
Last summer, I decided no longer to eat any animal products — a decision I made for my health.
So abstaining from meat on Fridays during Lent is no longer a sacrifice for me. Is there something else that I should do instead? (Virginia Beach, Virginia)
I am edified by your question; it shows that you have captured the spirit of Lent as a season of special penitence — with a particular focus on the Fridays, in order to unite ourselves with the suffering of Jesus on the cross.
In 1966, when the church was moving away from the age-old rule of Friday abstinence (except on the Fridays of Lent), the U.S. bishops noted that “the spirit of penance primarily suggests that we discipline ourselves in that which we enjoy most.”
Since, for you, abstinence from meat no longer represents a burden, you would do well to go beyond the specific regulations prescribed by law and adopt a discipline of your own choosing — perhaps by staying away from alcoholic beverages on Lenten Fridays or cutting back generally on food consumption during those days.
Or how about — if your work situation allows it — simply taking five minutes at 3:00 in the afternoon on Lenten Fridays to speak with Jesus quietly and thank him for his sacrifice?
I apologize for the length of this question, but I want you to understand the complete context.
I am a 21-year-old male from Africa. About a year ago I joined an online freelancing site and created my profile, in an attempt to develop business.
It was not successful at all, and I began to suspect the reason was that I am from a Third-World country. So I created a fake profile that said that I was from Canada, and I used someone else’s picture.
No sooner had I done this than the work started flowing in.
I deliver good-quality work and my clients have been nothing but satisfied.
(In fact, I now have three long-term clients that I work with every week.) I know that I’m not scamming them, but the issue is that they don’t know my real identity.
So my question is this: Am I committing a mortal sin?
Would it help if I were to tithe these earnings, or would that be an insult to God?
I am conflicted — I am getting the job done, and it’s not as though I were lying on a dating site and playing with someone’s feelings. Please advise. (Africa)
Believe me, I sympathize with your plight — especially since a cultural bias seems to have created it.
I would almost like to be able to condone your fabrication, but I just can’t do that.
Truth is sacred, and the whole human enterprise hangs on our ability to trust in the word of another.
I do think that, in very rare cases, untruthfulness can be justified — for example, when a landlord shielding a Jewish family during the Nazi era tells a Gestapo interrogator at the door, “There are no Jews here.”
But your own action in creating a false identity would not seem to match that situation.
I don’t believe that what you have done constitutes a mortal sin, given the circumstances, but I would feel much more comfortable — and you probably would, too — if you could return to the path of truth.
Here is my suggestion: Why not create a new profile, revealing your true identity and noting your recent successes with the three long-term clients?
Then, why not level with those three clients: Tell them who you are, why you shielded your identity at first and the discomfort you feel in having been untruthful?
If, as you say, they are already well-satisfied with your work, they may retain you.
March 13, 2017
When parishes merge, how is a new name chosen?
Why do names of churches have to change when parishes merge?
I understand that they might not want to have a St. Mary’s/St. Joseph’s, but the new names are nothing like what we were used to; they are more complicated and difficult to remember. (Latham, New York)
Names of churches do not necessarily have to change when parishes merge, and in fact in many instances, the name chosen for the new, merged parish is a combination of the former ones — as you indicate, “St. Mary’s/St. Joseph’s.”
The new title may be selected by the parishioners of the newly merged parish, with the approval of the diocesan bishop.
It can be named after: the Holy Trinity; the Holy Spirit or the angels; Christ, invoked under one of the mysteries of his life; Mary, under one of her traditional titles; or a canonized or beatified saint.
My own experience several years ago might be helpful here: The church a mile down the street from us closed and merged with our own to create a new parish.
Parishioners felt generally that a hyphenated title that would combine the two former names might perpetuate division in the parish; in this, they were supported by a document on mergers issued by our diocese that asked that “a new patron not be a combination of the older names, since a new entity is being formed.”
Parishioners of both parishes voted on the same weekend for a name, which was then approved by our bishop.
(The title chosen was “Mater Christi,” the name of our former diocesan seminary that stood within the boundaries of the new parish.)
You are correct that such mergers can result in a host of new titles, which initially can cause some confusion — particularly when people are trying to track down their sacramental records.
But the upside is that people learn about new saints and new mysteries of their faith. (In our own diocese we now have parishes with such names as Christ Our Light, Our Lady of Hope and Saint Kateri Tekakwitha.)
In my parish, there is an appreciation dinner every year for high-end donors, by invitation only.
(I would estimate that anywhere from 5 to 7 percent of parishioners attend.) But among the invitees I have not seen people who devote a lot of time working for the parish community but can’t afford to contribute enough money to be eligible for the “dinner club.”
It strikes me that such fundraising techniques might be appropriate for some other charitable organizations but not for the Catholic Church.
As Christians, we are taught to place spiritual values over material ones.
It calls to mind the parable of the poor widow who put two small coins into the temple treasury and whom Jesus called more worthy than all the rest. Any thoughts? (Georgia)
On occasion, I choose a letter for this column not so much to answer the question posed, but to present what I think is a writer’s very valid concern — hoping that it will prompt some reflection among readers. So it is with today’s query.
The situation presented gives a glimpse into the difficult but perennial balancing act between the practicalities of life and what might constitute the ideal.
One of a pastor’s responsibilities is to keep a parish afloat financially. The parish provides spiritual enlightenment, pastoral support, educational opportunities and social services to the poor and vulnerable.
To do all of that requires staff and takes money.
Fundraisers have long recognized that, while most people are genuinely unselfish in wanting to help, purse strings can be loosened a bit when a donor is recognized and thanked.
But the letter writer points out correctly that there are many ways to serve a parish. We priests are forever reminding our congregations that their generosity can be expressed by sharing “time, talent or treasure.”
So why not recognize all three ways of giving?
In the parish from which I recently retired, we scheduled an annual “Volunteers’ Dinner” to which dozens of people were invited who had offered their help in a wide range of parish programs and projects.
They included catechists; lectors, ushers and eucharistic ministers; parish council and school board members; home visitors; food pantry workers, etc.
February 27, 2017
Is it right for Catholics to go shopping on Sundays?
Genesis 2:3 says that, after creating the universe, God “rested from all the work he had done.”
Since the church has always viewed the seventh day (Sunday) as holy, a day of rest and worship, is it right to go shopping on Sunday (which means that store clerks have to work on that day)? After all, there are six other days to buy and sell. (Bedford, Virginia)
The “rules” of the church on Sunday shopping are appropriately short on detail; instead, they place the responsibility on individual Catholics to determine whether their Sunday activities impact the day’s primary purpose of rest and prayer.
The responsibility to attend Mass on the Sabbath is, of course, a serious obligation for every Catholic.
As for activities during the rest of the day, here is the general guideline: The Code of Canon Law says that the faithful “are to abstain from those works and affairs which hinder the worship to be rendered to God, the joy proper to the Lord’s day, or the suitable relaxation of mind and body” (No. 1247).
In my mind, the deciding question about Sunday shopping ought to be this: How necessary is it?
There is a big difference between dashing to a convenience store because you ran out of orange juice and making Sunday the shopping day for the rest of the week.
And you make a valid point about causing others (store clerks) to have to work: The Catechism of the Catholic Church says, “Every Christian should avoid making unnecessary demands on others that would hinder them from observing the Lord’s Day” (No. 2187).
Recently in a conversation with our pastor, I happened to tell him that, when my parents got married in 1930 (my father was not a Catholic), the Catholic Church did not allow a mixed marriage inside the church building, and so they were married in the living room of my mother’s home by the local Catholic priest.
He responded that this could not have been recognized as a valid Catholic marriage if it did not occur inside a church.
I do not believe that and would like to show him something to indicate that their marriage was recognized by the Catholic Church.
My mother was very religious; she went to Mass every day that she was able and would never have entered a marriage without the Catholic Church’s approval.
I was very upset at our pastor’s response and would like to put my mind at ease. (Blaine, Minnesota)
You can relax and be at peace: I am quite sure that your parents’ marriage was recognized as valid by the Catholic Church.
At the time to which you refer (1930), marriages between a Catholic and a non-Catholic were quite rare.
Frankly, the church tried to discourage them and required that such a marriage, though officiated by a priest, take place not inside a Catholic church (in a celebration attended by family and friends) but in a private ceremony, usually in the church rectory.
Today, perhaps one-third of Catholic marriages in the U.S. are ecumenical or interfaith.
Although, the church does not go out of its way to encourage such marriages (because of the additional challenges a couple must deal with), it does try to support these couples and help them to live holy and happy lives.
Such marriages require diocesan permission, but they now do, of course, take place inside the church building — usually without a Mass, but sometimes, if the couple wishes, with a Mass.
Your pastor may be young and unaware of the church’s history on this; if you really want to prove it to him, contact the Catholic parish where your mother lived at the time, and I’ll bet they can provide you with a written record of your parents’ wedding.
February 13, 2017
Can Catholics go to confession during Sunday Mass?
Growing up Catholic, I was taught that in order to fulfill your Sunday obligation, you were required to be present for three parts of the Mass — the Gospel, the offertory and Communion.
Our parish just started hearing confessions at the very time the Sunday Mass is being celebrated (i.e., not just before or after Mass).
So my question is this: If you are in the confessional during any of these three parts of the Mass, have you fulfilled your Sunday obligation?
And what about receiving holy Communion? (Coon Rapids, Minnesota)
Your memory is two-thirds correct. Half a century ago, Catholics were taught that if you wanted the Mass to “count,” you needed to be present for the offertory, the consecration and Communion.
Now, though, the church views the Mass as an integrated whole, a single act of worship from the entrance rite through the dismissal prayers, and canon law simply says, “On Sundays and other holy days of obligation, the faithful are obliged to participate in the Mass” (No. 1247).
If you happen to be in the confessional for part of that time, I would say that you are “morally present” at the Mass (your intent is certainly to be there) and that you are eligible to receive holy Communion.
Your question, though — about a parish’s practice of hearing confessions during Mass — deserves further comment.
That practice is a source of some pastoral debate among priests.
Since the faithful are gathered in largest numbers during Mass times, some view this as the opportune moment to make the sacrament of penance available; others, though, feel that it easily distracts people from the eucharistic liturgy itself.
Strictly speaking, there is no universal prohibition of the practice.
In fact, the Vatican has spoken directly to the point: In 2001, the church’s Congregation for Divine Worship and the Sacraments, while expressing a clear preference that confessions be heard outside of Mass, specifically allowed that they can be heard while Mass is being celebrated.
Some dioceses, though, have issued their own guidelines: The Archdiocese of Chicago, for example, says in its published sacramental policies that “the sacrament of penance shall not be celebrated while a Mass is being celebrated in the same place.”
Recently, a friend asked me what the difference was between the Knights of Columbus and the Masons, and I didn’t really know what to tell her. I’ve read about the good works done by each of these organizations, and we were wondering whether a Catholic gentleman can belong to both. (Please respond in your column, because I’m sure that others may have the same question.) (Cumming, Georgia)
The Knights of Columbus is an international organization of Catholic men whose chief work involves helping those in need. Their charitable donations total nearly $2 million annually, and they engage in joint projects with such organizations as Special Olympics and Habitat for Humanity.
Freemasonry is a fraternal society that traces its origin to medieval associations of stonemasons; in the U.S., there are grand lodges in every state, with a total membership of about 1.2 million in the U.S. Masons, too, involve themselves in a variety of charitable works, and no doubt many Americans view Masonry primarily as a social and philanthropic fraternity.
The reality, though, is that Masonry is at heart a naturalistic religion whose basic tenets are incompatible with Catholic faith and practice. (Pope Leo XIII said in 1884 that Masonry had as its fundamental doctrine “that human nature and human reason ought in all things be mistress and guide” and denied “that anything has been taught by God.”)
The Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith declared in 1983 that “the church’s negative judgment in regard to Masonic associations remain unchanged” and that “the faithful who enroll in Masonic associations are in a state of grave sin and may not receive holy Communion.”
(In 1985, a report by historian William J. Whalen of Purdue University given to the U.S. bishops’ Pastoral Research and Practice Committee said that Masonry “honors Jesus Christ as it honors Socrates, Buddha and Muhammed,” and that Masonry “cannot acknowledge any special spiritual claims by Jesus, since this would violate the basis of Freemasonry,” and that “Catholics in the United States and elsewhere may not be Freemasons.”)
January 30, 2017
Have the rules on baptism changed?
Have the rules changed on the sacrament of baptism? Recently I attended a Catholic christening where neither the first nor middle name of the child being baptized was the name of a saint. The man who was the godfather practices no religion at all, and the godmother — although baptized as a Catholic — does not now practice her faith. Can you please explain? (Albany, New York)
The church’s current Code of Canon Law (which has been in effect since 1983) does not require that a child be baptized with the name of a saint. The only stipulation (Canon 855) is that the name chosen should not be “foreign to Christian sensibility.” Prior to 1983, the church did require that the child be given a “Christian” name (e.g., “Faith” or “Christian”) or the name of a saint. If not, a saint’s name was added to the name chosen by the parents, and that second name was recorded in the parish baptismal registry as well. (In my own view, it is still preferable that parents choose a saint’s name, because as the child grows that particular saint might serve as an inspiration and example.) As to the religion of the godparents, a sponsor must be a practicing Catholic, 16 years of age or older and have already received the sacraments of first Communion and confirmation (Canon 874). Technically only one sponsor is required (Canon 873); so if one godparent were a practicing Catholic, the other “godparent” at the ceremony could be a baptized non-Catholic, but that person would then be listed in the registry as a “witness” rather than a sponsor.
January 16, 2017
Can a ‘neutral’ presider celebrate a valid Catholic wedding?
I am a Catholic woman who is planning to marry a Jewish man. He is uncomfortable with having a Catholic priest preside at the wedding, and he says this would be awkward for his family as well. Are there ways to have a “neutral” presider celebrate the service and still have the marriage recognized by the Catholic Church? (I have told my husband-to-be that my only “requirement” is that the wedding be seen as valid in the church’s eyes.) Is this possible, and what would I need to do to make it happen? (Cleveland)
Yes, in a situation like this a diocese is able to give permission ahead of time for a marriage ceremony to take place in a nonsectarian setting, witnessed by a civil official, and have that marriage be recognized by the Catholic Church. You and your fiancé should speak with a local priest to see that the proper paperwork is completed. But how about, instead, doing a joint religious ceremony that would highlight the role of God in a marriage and seek the Lord’s blessings? I have several times done such a wedding service together with a rabbi. Only one—either the rabbi or the priest— would be designated as the responsible civil official to receive a couple’s vows, but both the rabbi and the priest could offer prayers from their own traditions and appropriate blessings. (Two or three times, we have even used the chuppah, the traditional canopy under which Jewish couples pronounce their wedding vows accompanied by both sets of parents.)
At Mass, after the Gospel has been read by a priest or deacon, can the female parish life director give the homily? With six priests sitting down? At one of our local parishes, this happens regularly. I have been to this church on occasion, and I feel guilty for being there to witness it — but sometimes this is my only option. (I’m afraid to talk to my own parish priest about this, because he might think that I am being critical or judgmental.) (Upstate New York)
The current guidelines of the Catholic Church on this matter are quite clear. The Code of Canon Law says: “Among the forms of preaching, the homily, which is part of the liturgy itself and is reserved to a priest or deacon, is pre-eminent” (No. 767). Similarly, the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, which serves as the church’s liturgical “rulebook,” says, “The homily should ordinarily be given by the priest celebrant himself or be entrusted by him to a concelebrating priest, or from time to time and, if appropriate, to the deacon, but never to a layperson” (No. 66). In certain areas of the U.S. where priests are not available to celebrate the Eucharist every Sunday, services are guided by a Vatican document called “Sunday Celebrations in the Absence of a Priest.” In such settings, a layperson can be delegated by the local bishop to offer an explanation and reflection on the biblical readings for the service.
January 2, 2017
Can non-Catholic clergy serve Catholics during wartime conditions?
I have long been a fan of the television series “M.A.S.H.” that takes place during the Korean conflict.
In a couple of the episodes, the priest on the show is asked by a soldier if he can perform a Methodist, a Jewish or a Presbyterian service for him.
In each case, the priest answers that he is allowed to perform services for all denominations. From what I gather, this type of service was also offered during World War II as well.
My question is this: Were ministers of all faiths permitted to say Mass, distribute Communion and hear confessions of Catholic servicemen during those battlefield and hospital-stay conditions? (Woodbury, Minnesota)
In wartime situations, it has always been common to have interfaith services offered by chaplains of various religious denominations.
Needless to say, not every religion can supply a member of the clergy for every military outpost; so regularly, for centuries, clergy have presided at services — open to members of all religions or of none — consisting of scriptural readings, “sermonettes,” words of spiritual comfort and prayers of blessing.
To your specific question, though, ministers of other faiths have never been permitted to celebrate Mass or hear the confessions of Catholic servicemen and women.
The church’s Code of Canon Law (No. 900.1) explains that “the minister who is able to confect the sacrament of the Eucharist in the person of Christ is a validly ordained priest alone.”
Likewise, another provision (No. 965) notes that “a priest alone is the minister of the sacrament of penance,” and Canon 1003 stipulates that “every priest and a priest alone validly administers the anointing of the sick.”
Of course — and this happens regularly — clergy of any faith may offer prayers of blessing and words of comfort over a sick or dying Catholic, but they may not absolve or anoint.
An exception to this sacramental strictness comes with baptism: Canon 861.2 provides that “in a case of necessity any person with the right intention” may confer the sacrament of baptism licitly.
So if a serviceman dying on the battlefield wanted to be baptized a Catholic, a member of the clergy of any Christian denomination (or a layperson, for that matter) could do so by pouring the water and saying the words of baptism.
A discussion that is common between the more “orthodox” members of the parish and the more “progressive” ones is whether the faithful should use the “orans” posture during the Our Father.
I remember being instructed several years ago that we were to start stretching out our hands while praying the Lord’s Prayer at Mass.
I felt odd doing this at first but decided that I needed to follow along as instructed.
Years later, I noticed that our nun and our deacon did not observe this. So are we supposed to stretch out our hands when offering this prayer or not? (Missouri)
The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops is quite concise on the issue, saying in its guidelines that “no position is prescribed in the Roman Missal for an assembly gesture during the Lord’s Prayer.”
There is simply no “rule” or guideline.
As you say, though, it has become common in some congregations for the faithful to adopt the “orans” posture — with hands extended to the side and facing up or out. The priest, by contrast, is directed specifically in the rubrics to adopt the “orans” posture during the Our Father.
Some liturgists have pointed to this as a bit of an anomaly: Generally, the celebrant extends his hands during the parts of the Mass when he is praying aloud and alone, on behalf of the congregation; during the Our Father, he is praying not on behalf of the congregation but along with them — as in the Gloria and the creed, when his hands are joined.
Perhaps future liturgical guidelines will clarify this; in the meanwhile, though, I can’t imagine that it matters a lot to God.
December 19, 2016
Can a Catholic consider burial in a national cemetery?
I can’t seem to find the answer to the following question: Is it acceptable for a Catholic to be buried in a national cemetery? (My inquiry is centered around the issue of consecrated ground.) Any guidance would be appreciated. (Flippin, Arkansas)
A Catholic may be buried wherever he or she chooses — in a Catholic cemetery, a non-Catholic or nonsectarian burial plot or, to your question, in a national cemetery where military veterans are honored.
(My preference, of course, would be for a Catholic burial ground because the deceased would have the benefit of the Masses and prayers that are offered regularly for those buried there.)
The notion that a Catholic need always choose a Catholic cemetery may stem from a misreading of Canon 1180 in the church’s Code of Canon Law.
The first paragraph of that canon states, “If a parish has its own cemetery, the deceased members of the faithful must be buried in it unless the deceased or those competent to take care of the burial of the deceased have chosen another cemetery legitimately.”
The word “must” was intended to place the burden on the parish, not on the deceased — that is to say, the parish is obligated to bury that parishioner if there is room and if that is the family’s choice.
The following paragraph in this same canon makes the option even more clear: “Everyone, however, is permitted to choose the cemetery of burial unless prohibited by law.”
As regards “consecrated ground,” when a Catholic is interred in a non-Catholic plot, the priest who officiates at the committal says a prayer that blesses that gravesite.
This morning I went to weekday Mass, as is my custom. Due to a heavy snowstorm in the area, I was the only person there, so the priest decided not to celebrate Mass.
I asked whether I could receive Communion, and the priest said that he was unable to do that since Communion can be given only during a Mass.
I didn’t question him at the time, but simply left and went home. But on the way home, I began to wonder about it.
For more than 30 years, I have been a eucharistic minister in hospitals throughout the Syracuse area, bringing Communion to patients in their rooms.
If it is possible for them to receive Communion without attending Mass, why couldn’t I? (Central New York)
It is true that, in ordinary circumstances, Holy Communion is to be received only when someone participates in the celebration of the entire Eucharist.
The bread and wine are offered, transformed into the body and blood of Christ, and then returned by God to the worshipper as a full sharing in the sacrifice of Jesus.
There are, however, exceptions. One is the situation you mentioned, when a patient is visited in a hospital room by a eucharistic minister bringing the gift of Communion.
Another is a Sunday or weekday celebration in the absence of a priest: When a priest is unable to be present, a deacon or designated lay leader may distribute Communion, after appropriate prayers and scriptural readings.
In the circumstance you raise, my own choice as a priest would have been to celebrate the Eucharist. You, after all, had fought off the snow to arrive at church, and you deserved to be credited and accommodated.
What would have been lost if the priest had taken 25 minutes to say a Mass even with just the two of you present — especially since he had already set aside the time to do that?
Not only would the two of you have benefited, but other people as well — since the Mass is always offered for the needs of the wider church.
December 5, 2016
Why did the Catholic Church ask for money for indulgences?
When did the church stop asking for money for indulgences? And why did they ask for money in the first place? (Wichita, Kansas)
I am almost reluctant to answer your question because, as asked, a simple response would imply a serious admission. Though it has been accused for centuries of having “sold” indulgences, the Catholic Church never approved such a practice.
Undeniably, individual Catholics were guilty of selling indulgences, but the practice was never countenanced by the church.
Coupled with these abuses, though, was the fact (and this gave a basis to Martin Luther’s challenge) that indulgences could be gained for giving alms to one of the church’s charitable endeavors.
All of this came to an end with the Council of Trent, which decreed that the church “ordains in a general way by the present decree that all evil traffic in them (indulgences), which has been a most prolific source of abuses among the Christian people, be absolutely abolished.”
According to The Catholic Encyclopedia, soon after, in 1567, Pope Pius V “canceled all grants of indulgences involving any fees or other financial transactions.”
I would very much like to know the church’s official position on whether God should be referred to as “Father” (that is, in masculine terms) or as a genderless being.
I find it troubling when the words in traditional hymns are changed to remove any references to “his” or “him.”
Recently I was singing from memory the refrain, “Lift up your hearts to the Lord in praise of His mercy,” only to hear myself “out of sync” with many others in the congregation who were singing from the hymnal, “Praise God’s gracious mercy.”
In a similar way, I often hear during the Liturgy of the Eucharist many people responding, “May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands for the praise and glory of God’s name, for our good and the good of God’s holy church.”
And yet, when I look up that response in the Roman Missal itself, I find “his name” and “his holy church.”
What is next? I fear the day when some people will start the Lord’s Prayer with, “Our God who art in heaven.”
I feel that we are pandering to a minority of overly sensitive feminists who have difficulty comprehending God’s identity as a male being, as our Father — and yet that is exactly how Jesus referred to God and taught us to pray to him. He is not some generic, abstract and neutered being. (City of origin withheld)
It is the clear teaching of the church that God is neither male nor female. As the divine being, God transcends gender.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church says: “In no way is God in man’s image. He is neither man nor woman. God is pure spirit in which there is no place for the difference between the sexes. But the respective ‘perfections’ of man and woman reflect something of the infinite perfection of God: those of a mother and those of a father” (No. 370).
The traditional use, then, of the masculine pronoun does not equate to a belief in the masculinity of God.
Having said that, I would make the argument that — for the sake of uniformity within a congregation and across the wider church — it is best to stick with the responses given in the Roman Missal and hope that the liturgical translators eventually catch up with the church’s theology.
As for the Our Father, that of course has a special sacredness because it was the prayer taught directly by Jesus.
In order to convey the ready accessibility to us of the Lord, Jesus called his Father by the Aramaic word “Abba” — which, some scholars say, really translates to our warm and familiar word, “Daddy.”
That word must have shocked Christ’s Jewish listeners, who felt that God was so far above them that they ought not even pronounce his name.
Since Jesus used these very words, this prayer ought never to change. (Can you imagine if Jesus had invited us instead to pray to “Our divine and genderless being”?
November 21, 2016
Where is heaven?
I am 91 years old and I am wondering just where heaven is. I have heard priests say that it is here on earth, the same as hell and purgatory. But when I pray the Apostles’ Creed I say, “He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty.”
We all want to go to heaven and see Jesus, but I would like to have some idea of where it is. Can you help me? (Altoona, Pennsylvania)
In addition to the words to which you refer in the Apostles’ Creed, there are multiple scriptural quotations that might lead one to believe that heaven is “up.” In the account of Christ’s ascension, for example, the angels say to the apostles: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way” (Acts 1:11).
In the Gospel of John, Christ tells Nicodemus; “No one has gone up to heaven except the one who has come down from heaven, the Son of Man” (Jn 3:13). And Psalm 14 says, “The Lord looks down from heaven upon the children of men” (Ps 14:2).
The reality, though, is that God does not occupy some remote geographic corner of the physical universe, and no MapQuest search can determine exactly where heaven is. The difficulty comes in trying to express transcendent ideas in human language; time and space are finite concepts, and God is not limited by them.
Far better to be guided by the Catechism of the Catholic Church, which tells us that the expression “who art in heaven” in the Lord’s Prayer “does not mean a place (‘space’), but a way of being; it does not mean that God is distant, but majestic. Our Father is not ‘elsewhere’: He transcends everything we can conceive of” (No. 2794). Or, as St. John Paul II said in a Wednesday audience on July 21, 1999, heaven is “neither an abstraction nor a physical place in the clouds, but a living, personal relationship with the Holy Trinity.”
After death we will experience fully that unity with the divine, to our everlasting and perfect joy. Just how that will happen, what it will look and feel like, is not yet ours to know. But, as Billy Graham once said, “The only GPS that can give you flawless direction is the ‘Gospel plan of salvation.’”
Since we believe that judgment takes place at the time of death, why do we pray for the dead? Prayer is supposed to change us, not God. Are we to believe that extra prayers will change his mind and get us into heaven faster? (Northampton, Pennsylvania)
We do, as you say, believe that a divine judgment takes place at the time of death. But part of the Christian faith is the belief in purgatory, the belief that for some individuals there will be required a period of “purification” — a chance to “clean up from” and “make up for” past sins and imperfections before entering the eternal embrace of the Lord in heaven.
It is that period of purification that the church believes can be reduced by the prayers of those still living on earth. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church says: “From the beginning the church has honored the memory of the dead and offered prayers in suffrage for them, above all the eucharistic sacrifice, so that, thus purified, they may attain the beatific vision of God” (No. 1032).
Our belief is rooted in the Scriptures, as far back as the Second Book of Maccabees in the Old Testament, where Judas Maccabeus prayed for his comrades slain in battle that they might be freed from sin and obtain “the splendid reward that awaits those who had gone to rest in godliness” (2 Mc 12:45).
Prayers for the deceased have been a strong and consistent part of Christian life — at the bedside when one has died, at wake services, at funeral and anniversary Masses and burial rites — even though we don’t presume to know exactly how they work. Death and its sequel, including judgment, will always be a mystery to us for as long as we are on this side of heaven.
I do not think, though, that our prayers for the deceased “change God’s mind” — rather, God, who knows all things, has decided in advance to favor the deceased with mercy based on his foreknowledge that we would offer prayers on their behalf.
And as for the question you did not ask me: “What happens if we pray for someone who’s already in heaven?” I can only believe that those merits will be awarded to other souls still in purgatory (or perhaps even to ourselves).
November 7, 2016
Can a person pray too much?
Lately, I find myself asking quite a bit from God — perhaps too much. I ask for things for myself, since my own life has fallen a bit off course — as well as for friends and family members, some of whom have serious health problems.
I make sure to thank God for the blessings that I do have, but I am starting to think that I am demanding too much of the Lord and that I should curb my prayer a bit. Do you think it is possible to pray too much? (Albany, New York)
I do not think it is possible to pray too much. I take as my guide the story Jesus told in the 11th chapter of Luke’s Gospel — about someone who went to a friend at midnight to borrow food to feed an unexpected guest.
The friend at first didn’t want to be bothered, noting that the door was locked and that his family was already in bed; but because of the caller’s persistence he finally relented.
And the moral of the story, says Jesus, is that we should pray with the same persistence.
“Ask and you will receive,” is the translation we read at Catholic Masses, “seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”
But some scriptural commentators have pointed out that the original Greek text is in the “present imperative” form and that a more precise rendering might be, “Keep on asking … keep on seeking … keep on knocking.”
At the same time, though, I would mention the need for patience when we pray.
God is on his own timetable, not ours, and (knowing, as he does, considerably more than we know) he may even decline our request — or grant it in a way we didn’t expect (and don’t even like).
Albert Schweitzer, the great humanitarian, once said: “The most difficult thing I have ever had to do is to follow the guidance I prayed for.”
Our wisest and safest prayer comes from the words of the Our Father, “Thy will be done.”
I like the fact that you take time, too, to thank the Lord for blessings in your life. Praise and gratitude are noble forms of prayer, and they sometimes disappear in a torrent of petitions — as though God were a vending machine and we needed only to pull the right handle for the proper favor to pop out.
Prayer, we learned as children, is “lifting our minds and hearts to the Lord,” and when Paul says in First Thessalonians that we should “pray without ceasing,” he is inviting us to an abiding awareness that the Lord is listening to us and that he cares.
Our family consists of a mixture of Catholic and Protestant Christians. One family member, who is gay, is contemplating marriage to a same-sex partner.
My husband and I do not plan to attend the ceremony, in deference to our Catholic faith. (I assume that the church would not want us there to witness and seem to approve such a union.)
Over the years, we have worked hard to promote cohesiveness in a family where everyone is loved and accepted.
Several family members do not seem to have a problem in attending this “commitment service,” and I fear that our absence will create a major rift.
We do expect to continue to welcome both this family member and the partner into our home, as it is not our place to pass judgment, but we are concerned that after this “hurtful snub” they will not want to come and that other family members may disown us as well.
We continue to pray for spiritual guidance and hope that you might address this issue in your column, both for our own benefit and for those in similar situations.
Please advise us as to how to be true to our beliefs while also keeping our family intact. (Ohio)
In 2013, when the state of Rhode Island was debating whether to approve same-sex marriage, Bishop Thomas J. Tobin of Providence advised Catholics that they should “examine their consciences very carefully” before deciding to attend a same-sex ceremony, lest their presence be taken as a sign of approval.
Two years later, Bishop C. Michael Jarrell of Lafayette, Louisiana, was even more direct, saying that “all Catholics are urged not to attend same-sex marriage ceremonies.”
So although there is no absolute canonical prohibition against attending, church leaders would likely advise you not to go.
The consistent teaching of the Catholic Church over the centuries, based on biblical texts (and recently reaffirmed by Pope Francis in his 2016 apostolic exhortation “Amoris Laetitia”), is that marriage is a lifelong commitment between one man and one woman — and Catholics in their daily decision-making are asked to give witness to that teaching.
At the same time, I recognize and admire your deep desire to maintain harmony in the family and to keep the bonds of love unbroken.
Perhaps it would be good for you to sit down (over coffee or lunch) with the family member in question; in that setting you could describe your inner conflict about whether to attend as well as pledge your continuing love and support.
October 24, 2016
Reverence for the name of Jesus
When is it appropriate to call out verbally the word “Jesus”?
If his name is not being used in a disrespectful way but to implore his help, certainly this would not be considered swearing, right?
Some people seem to have a fear of uttering his name, lest they appear to be swearing. (Timberville, Virginia)
What you intend when you say something may not be what hearers understand. Although you mean to implore Christ’s help by calling out spontaneously the word “Jesus,” someone listening might well think instead that you are expressing surprise or dismay — which would contribute to the growing disrespect for the Lord’s name.
Why not instead say, “Help me, Jesus” and remove any doubt?
Reverence for the divine name, in addition to being mandated by the Second Commandment, has a rich scriptural basis.
It was the first point made by Jesus when he taught us how to pray. (“Hallowed be your name,” Mt 6:9.)
And in his Letter to the Philippians (2:10), Paul says that “at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth.”
Some of the saints, in fact, whenever they heard the name of Jesus being used with disrespect, would bow their heads — as a silent reminder of the reverence they felt was due.
Given the fact that the holy name is so often and so casually abused in today’s world, perhaps all of us have a duty to ask the Lord’s forgiveness and seek to make reparation.
We need to stand in awe of God’s mystery and majesty, realizing that even the opportunity to approach him in prayer is a gift of his mercy.
We have been members of one parish for more than 20 years, but now we have a priest who reminds me of why Jesus was critical of the Pharisees: This priest has no spiritual depth, and he emphasizes external flourishes, like “ad orientem” Masses.
My husband thinks that this priest is just young, arrogant and naive and that we should simply wait it out until he is reassigned.
Right now my husband and I have reached an agreement: We have cut our financial contributions to the parish in half, and I attend our parish church once a month but go to other parishes on the other Sundays.
Our teenage children prefer one particular parish nearby, but I hesitate because it seems so informal and not in keeping with church guidelines.
(It uses lay preachers, for example, and has people go to confession by writing things on pieces of paper to be burnt.)
For us, attending Sunday Mass as a family is now a thing of the past, which is very sad.
Do you have any suggestions? (Name of city and state withheld)
First, to explain a phrase that might puzzle some readers: “ad orientem” Masses. Literally, it means “toward the East,” indicating that the priest and the people both face in the same direction, following an ancient custom.
More commonly today, the phrase is used when the priest and the congregation both face toward the front of church, as opposed to Mass where the celebrant faces the people.
A bit of a flap ensued in July 2016 when the Vatican’s top liturgical official, Cardinal Robert Sarah of Guinea, suggested that priests begin to celebrate Mass facing away from the congregation.
Quickly, though, the Vatican’s official spokesman — Jesuit Father Federico Lombardi — noted that there was no new directive and that the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (the church’s official “guidebook”) indicates in No. 299 that, wherever possible, the priest should face the congregation.
Now, to the substance of your question. I attach a high priority to a family’s celebrating Sunday Mass together as a family unit.
I do recognize the argument that people profit most from a eucharistic setting that matches their individual taste and best helps them sense the divine, but I feel that is outweighed by the lasting value of worshipping God as a family.
And, though I have no empirical evidence to back this, my sense anecdotally is that families who have worshipped together continue their fidelity to the Eucharist far into the future.
So my suggestion would be for you to sit down with your family, discuss the value of being with each other on Sundays and reach an accommodation — whether it be choosing a “neutral site” (a nearby parish where everyone seems fairly comfortable) or, perhaps, rotating as a family each Sunday among three or four different parishes.
October 10, 2016
Is dialysis required for my elderly father?
My Dad is almost 89 years old. In 1987, he had a double bypass. Right now he has slow-growing prostate cancer, diabetes and high blood pressure.
He is also suffering from depression (my mom passed away in 2010), and he looks forward to dying.
He found out recently that he has only 35 percent kidney function.
If dialysis is prescribed, from a Catholic point of view, would he have to undergo it? (Knox, Indiana)
The short and simple answer is “No.”
In your father’s circumstances, he would be under no ethical obligation to start dialysis. Catholic moral teaching does not require us to use every possible treatment to preserve and prolong life.
Dialysis, in this case, could surely be judged an “extraordinary” or “disproportionate” means in terms of the benefit it might offer.
This moral principle is most clearly expressed in the “Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services” published in 2009 by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, which states: “A person may forgo extraordinary or disproportionate means of preserving life. Disproportionate means are those that in the patient’s judgment do not offer a reasonable hope of benefit or entail an excessive burden, or impose excessive expense on the family or the community” (No. 57).
Your father can legitimately opt instead for what is sometimes termed “medical management without dialysis,” involving palliative care to keep him as comfortable as possible.
Any moral decision depends, of course, on the attendant circumstances.
If, on the other hand, your father were 30 years younger, with no life-threatening diseases, and dialysis were likely to offer him many more years of life — and if, while in the throes of depression, he were motivated chiefly by a desire to end his life — then the moral calculus might well produce a different result, and dialysis would be the proper moral choice.
I’m looking at your father’s situation from afar and based on the information supplied.
For your father’s peace of mind, he might want to discuss his individual situation with a priest, Catholic ethicist or chaplain — who, I am confident, would offer him this same comforting advice.
A couple of weeks ago, a clean but scruffy fellow came into Mass and sat on the floor in the back of our church.
When it came time for the sign of peace, he came forward to shake hands and people were a little put off.
Then, when Communion came, he approached the altar before anyone else had left their pews.
A church usher quickly got behind him, gave him a “look” and then followed him to the back of the church.
I thought this was un-Christian and felt sorry about the treatment he received. What if it were Jesus? (Wisconsin)
Within any group setting, there is a natural awkwardness when someone’s appearance or behavior departs from the ordinary.
As you rightly indicate, though, the Christian community is not about appearances. The man should not have been judged for his “scruffiness,” and when he came up for the sign of peace, he should have been greeted warmly and with acceptance.
But the fact that he sat on the floor and that he approached the altar prematurely did create a natural concern.
Perhaps the usher feared that the man posed a threat to the priest-celebrant — although the “look” was clearly out of place.
The response of the worshipping community was, I hope, generally one of sympathy for the man with a desire to offer him assistance should he need it.
I hope, too, that the usher, having followed the man to the back of church, engaged him in conversation to help determine his needs and to assure him that he was welcome.
September 26, 2016
Shouldn’t we wear our best for Mass?
Too often I have seen various ministers at the Mass wearing shorts. I find this to be the utmost irreverence.
Would these same people wear shorts to dine with the president of the United States?
Yet they wear shorts not only to dine with Our Lord, but to serve him as well.
I know that God probably doesn’t care, but shouldn’t we care how we present ourselves before him and act as his representatives?
Shouldn’t we dress our best for Mass — which, after all, is the most important event we attend each week? (Upstate New York)
There is nothing in the church’s universal Code of Canon Law as to how ministers of the Eucharist should be dressed — which is logical, when one considers that the Catholic Church embraces the entire the world and that what is considered appropriate apparel varies widely around the globe.
(I have been present at papal Masses in the interior of Africa that included liturgical dance by women in grass skirts — all done reverently and enhancing the sense of worship.)
The Catechism of the Catholic Church, however, does speak to the issue when it observes that for all who are present at Mass, “bodily demeanor (gestures, clothing) ought to convey the respect, solemnity and joy of this moment when Christ becomes our guest” (No. 1387).
Because taste in dress does differ (even within our own nation), it might seem wise for dioceses or parishes to draft their own guidelines — and many, in fact, have done so.
Some are rather general, noting that ministers should dress in a way that is respectful, modest and presentable — often adding that clothing that is too casual or flamboyant can distract worshippers from the Eucharist.
Others are quite specific; one parish in the U.S. Midwest directs that liturgical ministers should wear “no jeans, sweatpants or yoga pants; no shirts exposing the navel; no tight-fitting clothes; no shorts; no flip-flops.”
For men, this means “no T-shirts (collared shirts only); no sleeveless shirts.”
For women, “no dress or skirt with a hem any higher than at or just above the knee; no spaghetti strap tops or tank tops or tube tops; no style of dress exposing bare shoulders or bare back; no style of dress exposing cleavage.”
My wife passed away three years ago, and I miss her very much. We were married for 63 years. What are the church’s thoughts on the hereafter? Will we still be man and wife? (Milford, Iowa)
Your question is one frequently asked by those who are mourning deeply the death of a spouse. The response should bring you some comfort.
In one Gospel story (Mark 12:18-27), a question is posed to Jesus by the Sadducees, who did not believe in an afterlife; they wanted to know about a woman who had had seven spouses successively, and which man would be her husband in heaven.
Jesus explained that “when they rise from the dead, they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but they are like the angels in heaven” (Mk 12:25).
Some have interpreted these words — erroneously — to mean that there will be no continuing and special relationship in heaven between earthly spouses.
Instead, what Christ simply meant was that the institution of marriage, as we have known it on earth, will be unnecessary in heaven.
There will be no need for procreation because no one will ever die; human companionship will not be required to satisfy our loneliness because the desire for intimacy will be fulfilled by knowing the Lord personally.
Still, though, the church does believe that the relationships we have enjoyed on earth will be transformed and enhanced as they continue in heaven.
A prayer frequently used at the end of funeral Masses has the priest saying, “Before we go our separate ways, let us take leave of our brother/sister.
“May our farewell express our affection for him/her; may it ease our sadness and strengthen our hope.
“One day we shall joyfully greet him/her again when the love of Christ, which conquers all things, destroys even death itself.”
September 12, 2016
How does one keep the Lord’s day holy?
I write to ask for guidelines on the Third Commandment — keeping holy the Lord’s day.
I do not consider some of the things that I do to be work—cooking, for example, minor cleanups, mowing, trimming, weeding.
Does the church look upon all chores as work?
I find it very hard not to do some of the things that need to be done around the house.
I am thankful that God did give us this commandment, for I certainly do look upon Sunday as a day of rest — to spend with family when possible and to simply enjoy the day.
My husband (who is not a Catholic) is a business owner who can work from home. He is in a very challenging situation right now, without sufficient staff.
On Sundays, he puts in a good six to eight hours of office work before he rests — otherwise the remainder of the week’s schedule would be overwhelming. (Chestertown, New York)
I credit you for your sincere desire to set Sunday aside as a special day, which honors the fact that even the God of all creation rested on the Sabbath.
You have captured the spirit of the Catechism of the Catholic Church that says, “Sunday is a time for reflection, silence, cultivation of the mind and meditation which furthers the growth of the Christian interior life” (No. 2186).
Basic household maintenance is exempted from the prohibition against “servile work” on that day; doing the dishes, preparing a meal and what you describe as “minor cleanups” are certainly permitted.
A modest amount of gardening or lawn cultivation can be recreational and surely not “servile.”
What the Sabbath command means to avoid is unnecessary shopping or heavy housekeeping that could be deferred.
Employment needs or economic circumstances may prevent one from observing the Sabbath rest, and this the catechism envisions and exempts. Your husband’s current challenge, in my mind, fits in here.
I would hope, though, that his circumstance will only be temporary; while I don’t know his religious history or principles, wisely does the catechism note, “The faithful should see to it that legitimate excuses do not lead to habits prejudicial to religion, family life and health” (No. 2185).
I might point out that, among American males, there can be a slavish addiction to Sunday televised sports, doing damage to the Sabbath goals of family time, reflection and rest.
And finally, nowhere does your question mention Sunday Mass, which must always be the central feature of a Catholic’s Sabbath observance.
For 2,000 years, followers of Jesus have come together as a family of faith to celebrate the day of Christ’s resurrection and to be nourished by his body and blood.
I am grateful for the work you do with your question-and-answer column. Your responses reflect both wisdom and patience.
And this prompts me to ask the following: What are some of the things in today’s parish or church that you find exciting?
Or, to put it another way, what are some changes that you have been happy to see over your years in the ministry? (Virginia Beach, Virginia)
Normally I would not choose to answer an open-ended question like this one. Readers, I believe, are more interested in factual answers than in my musings.
But since I have just celebrated my 50th anniversary of ordination, I welcome this chance to share a few thoughts about those years.
Space constraints limit me to two developments that I view as great blessings in Catholic life. First is the broader involvement of laypeople in the work of the church.
When I was ordained a half-century ago, many parishes had two lay organizations: a rosary society, which consisted of several women who offered prayers for the parish and helped out with church decorations, and a Holy Name Society, men who would make a yearly retreat and sponsor an annual parish smoker.
In the parish from which I just retired, there are now more than 400 lay parishioners who help with the work of the church — lay catechists; lectors and extraordinary ministers of holy Communion; those who visit and take Communion to shut-ins, patients in hospitals and residents of nursing homes; men and women who staff a parish food pantry and host homeless families overnight in a parish facility, etc.
The other is the 2013 election of Francis as pope. As the editor of Time magazine put it, “He has not changed the words, but he’s changed the music.”
Whereas many may have associated the church in the past with rules and prohibitions, some of those same people now link the church first of all with help to the poor, mercy and forgiveness.
August 29, 2016
Can divorced man marry again in the Catholic Church?
I was baptized and confirmed in the Catholic Church. When I was younger, I served as an altar boy for several years.
About 12 years ago, I got married in a Methodist church. I never had the marriage “convalidated” in the Catholic Church since my wife was against involving another member of the clergy.
Over the years, I found that my wife was actually an atheist; she would speak negatively about faith in general and especially about the Catholic Church.
We have two children. Due to her infidelity and to her unwillingness to work on our marriage, we are now divorced.
I went to Catholic Mass throughout our marriage. My question is this: If I were to marry again, would I be able to get married in the Catholic Church?
I have been living with a wonderful woman who shares my religious beliefs and was also confirmed in the Catholic faith. We attend Sunday Mass together. (Richmond, Virginia)
Since you evidently did not receive the Catholic Church’s permission to be married in an other-than-Catholic ceremony – you could have, especially if your bride was Methodist and that was her parish – and since you did not subsequently have the marriage blessed (“convalidated”) by a Catholic priest or deacon, your first marriage was not recognized by the Catholic Church.
You would be free to marry now in a Catholic ceremony.
What you would need to do is to meet with a priest and provide some information about that first marriage.
The priest would then submit that paperwork to the diocese for what is generally called a “Declaration of Nullity Due to Lack of Canonical Form.”
There is usually a fairly quick turnaround, requiring no more than a few weeks.
I do feel the need, though – based on your question – to make two further points. First, you say that you are now living with the woman you may marry.
I’m sure you know that this is in clear violation of Catholic moral teaching; the long-held and consistent view of the church (actually, of many religions) is that a couple should not be living together until there has been a lifelong commitment ratified by a civil and religious ceremony.
Also, the story of your first marriage highlights the need for a couple to take the time during courtship to examine each other’s deepest values; foremost among them, in my mind, are religious values since those affect greatly how a person will think and behave. Thus, the wisdom of pre-Cana programs, which can help prospective spouses do just that.
What is the reason behind some sermons sounding like a scolding and some being so uplifting? Our new pastor is the complete opposite of our former priest, and I hate being scolded.
I need instead to be given a positive message to carry me through my week. (City of origin withheld)
The reason is that a parish priest is father of a spiritual family. As with any family, people need occasionally to be chided, but mainly to be encouraged.
A case in point: A couple of weeks ago at a parish nearby, the celebrant reprimanded those who were leaving Mass early. (Before the dismissal rite – in fact, while coming up the aisle after receiving Communion – more than a dozen individuals were heading straight toward the doors.)
The celebrant remarked that such an early exit disrespects not only the Lord but those who are still trying to worship. His comment created a bit of a stir; some were surprised by its directness, but one woman was heard to remark, “It’s about time somebody said something.”
In my mind, it’s a question of balance. Once in a great while, you can do something like that. But for the most part – as you mention – worshippers need to know that God loves them and that, on the whole, they are pretty decent people.
August 15, 2016
Can Jesus forgive one who is fearful of confession?
I have always had a great fear of confession. Once I got in there, I would be so scared that I would just say the first thing I could think of, in order to get it over with.
As a result, I have never really made a good confession in my entire life.
I am now 70 years old. I have asked God to forgive me, but I wonder if that’s enough.
Our parish is small; the priest knows everyone and that is part of the problem.
But don’t tell me to go to another church for confession, because that wouldn’t help; I would still just clam up.
Can Jesus forgive me for this? I do try to be a good person and a good Catholic. (Des Moines, Iowa)
In the words of the Vatican’s Congregation for Divine Worship and the Sacraments, the sacrament of penance “requires each penitent to confess to a priest all mortal sins … after a diligent examination of conscience.”
The church’s Code of Canon Law indicates that this integral confession of sins by number and kind constitutes “the only ordinary means by which a member of the faithful conscious of grave sin is reconciled with God and the church” (Canon 960).
But quickly, that same canon goes on to allow that “physical or moral impossibility” can excuse one from confession of this type.
In their pastoral wisdom, confessors have typically applied this to someone with a very scrupulous conscience, for whom a detailed and comprehensive listing of sins would be so troubling as to be practically impossible.
I can see your own situation as being similar: The deep and immediate anxiety that you experience upon entering the confessional might allow a priest to dispense you from what is known as the “integrity of confession.”
Why not visit with a priest you know and explain your situation? He might decide that it would be sufficient for you to indicate in a general way your sorrow for any sins and then receive absolution.
Yes, I understand that a certain sense of guilt and shame for sin is a normal and healthy part of penance, but the experience is meant fundamentally to be one in which the penitent can rejoice in the Lord’s presence and relax in the assurance of his mercy.
The fact that this has not been so for you in the past tells me that a different approach is warranted, and the church’s compassionate guidelines envision this.
I am a regular reader of your column, and I have seen you recommend that people attend Mass at a different parish if some conflict or issue makes them feel uncomfortable at their local church.
I wonder if you are aware of how hard it can be to do this and still have access to the church’s “services.”
Some dioceses are set up with rigid territorial boundaries and require you to join a certain parish based on your address. You aren’t permitted to join another one without the permission of the pastor of your territorial parish.
If he won’t grant permission — which does occur — and you don’t support/attend your mandated parish, you are a “man without a country” when it comes to permission notes to be godparents or sponsors, to get married or have a child baptized, attend a Catholic school, even to arrange a funeral, etc.
My family has been caught in this loop, and moving is not a viable option.
Any recommendations? (City of origin withheld)
Canonically, parishes are set up territorially (Canon 518). There is no canonical obligation to register formally in a particular parish, although this is helpful to a parish administratively and to a parishioner seeking needed permissions. Without doing a single further thing, you automatically belong to the parish where you live.
You are, of course, free to go to Mass wherever you want, and flexibility on this is a growing phenomenon in our nation of ever-increasing mobility. A Notre Dame study in the 1980s showed that 15 percent of American Catholics regularly attended Mass at a church other than their neighborhood parish, and that number has almost certainly grown since then.
It seems reasonable for Catholics to belong to a parish where they enjoy the liturgy, like the priest and feel comfortable with the parish community.
Although I also see the wisdom of “belonging where you live”; human nature being what it is, there’s a greater chance you will be involved in a parish’s programs and activities if you live nearby.
Your territorial pastor does have certain jurisdiction over faith and sacramental life; a Catholic marriage, for example, must take place in the territorial parish of one of the Catholic parties or with that pastor’s permission (Canons 1110 and 1111.1).
Theoretically, whether you can join a different parish is at the discretion of the local bishop, but very few are strict about this.
In general, bishops (and pastors) are happy and grateful that someone wants to join any parish. So all you need to do is find a pastor willing to accept you, and I can guarantee you that there will be plenty.
August 1, 2016
Priests and family counseling
Recently our bishop spoke out about how cold and unwelcoming some parishes can seem. I recall one instance where I called the priest at our church and asked him to meet with three family members and myself (all of us, regular parishioners) to try to resolve some personal matters that we had.
I was shocked when he told me that family counseling was not a part of his training unless it involved a matter of religion, which it did not.
He had no suggestions as to where I could seek help and seemed bothered that I had even brought the matter to his attention.
My husband and I have been so put off by his response that we have not been to church since.
Where does the church stand on parish priests counseling their parishioners? (Virginia)
I agree with the priest on the matter but not (if your portrayal is accurate) on his manner.
Very few parish priests are trained thoroughly in the science or art of counseling as a professional psychiatrist or psychologist might be.
Often in my own 50 years in the priesthood, I have declined to take on the role of primary counselor for someone with deep-seated issues, for example acute marital conflict, a long history of family tensions or even suicidal thoughts.
I felt that it would have been irresponsible to assume an identity far beyond my skill set.
What I have tried to do, though — and what I think is always a priest’s obligation — is to show sympathy and a desire to help.
I regularly refer parishioners to our diocesan counseling center with its trained staff of professionals.
What I sometimes do, too, when I think an inquirer might find it more comfortable, is to meet with a person initially, try to clarify the issues and offer support, and then make the contact myself with our center to arrange an appointment for the one in need.
I do want to comment on your decision to stop going to church because of the way you were treated. I disagree with the priest, as I have mentioned, and I apologize for his evident lack of concern.
But the only one you are hurting now is yourself — by depriving yourself of the strength of the sacraments.
Why not just pick a different parish?
I have noticed that more often than not, the Confiteor (“I confess”) is skipped at Mass, and the priest or deacon goes right into the “Lord, have mercy” prayer (Kyrie). I have inquired as to why they do this but cannot get an answer. In the Tridentine Mass, the Confiteor was important enough to be said twice — initially by the priest and then repeated by the altar servers. Is this just to save time or are we forgetting the importance of asking for forgiveness before we ask for mercy? (Atlanta)
The writer is evidently unaware of the options offered in the current edition of the Roman Missal, which was introduced in 2011. One of three different formulas may be chosen for the penitential rite, recited by the priest or deacon.
The first uses the Confiteor, with a text very close to the one the writer remembers from years gone by. The second involves a short dialogue of psalm verses, while the third one uses three invocations made to Christ, with the congregation responding by calling out for mercy either in English or in Greek (“Kyrie eleison”).
It is important to note, though — and this, perhaps, answers the writer’s concern — that all three formulas begin with the invitation by the priest for those present to acknowledge their sins in preparation for celebrating the Eucharist and that all three are followed by the priest’s words asking for almighty God to “have mercy on us, forgive us our sins and bring us to everlasting life.”
July 18, 2016
Can food and water be withheld from dying patients?
Please tell me how Catholics justify hospice care, especially withholding food and water from the patient.
Doesn’t this starve the patient to death? And doesn’t the heavy medication they use actually cause death? (Illinois)
Patients are typically admitted into hospice care when curative treatment has been deemed futile and the prognosis is that death will occur within six months if the disease takes its normal course.
The primary medical goal in caring for the dying person then becomes the relief of pain and suffering.
Catholic moral principles for the treatment of the dying are set forth in a document (available online) published by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops entitled Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services.
Those directives provide that “in principle, there is an obligation to provide patients with food and water, including medically assisted nutrition and hydration for those who cannot take food orally,” because, as you rightly state, it would be morally wrong to “starve the patient to death” (No. 58).
But that same section of the directives goes on to explain that medically assisted nutrition and hydration become “morally optional” when there is no reasonable expectation of prolonging life or when such means would be “excessively burdensome” for the patient or cause significant physical discomfort.
As for medication, the directives address your question directly: “Medicine capable of alleviating or suppressing pain may be given to a dying person, even if this therapy may indirectly shorten the person’s life so long as the intent is not to hasten death” (No. 61).
Since hospice care is offered both by religious and secular institutions, it would be best to seek that care in a Catholic facility, thus ensuring that Catholic moral guidelines would be observed.
An important aspect, too — and sometimes families and even physicians might overlook this — is that, when possible, dying patients themselves should be consulted about the morally legitimate treatment options available.
Our son recently got married. While he was baptized and confirmed as a Catholic, he left the Catholic Church some time ago and is now a practicing member of a Protestant denomination.
His wedding was in a Protestant church and the officiant was a minister.
A rift has occurred because one member of our family refused to attend the ceremony; that member has told the rest of us that, not only are our son and his wife not really married and living in a “sinful relationship,” but that any Catholic who went to the wedding committed a mortal sin.
Please advise me of the church teaching on this scenario, so that I can advise the family. (City of origin withheld)
I am disappointed — as you probably are, too — that your son has left the practice of the Catholic faith. I believe that the Catholic religion is the one most consistent with the teachings of Jesus and, especially through the sacraments, that it offers the best help toward spiritual growth and salvation.
However, I would never presume to judge the state of your son’s soul.
My presumption instead would be that he made a conscientious decision to join a Protestant denomination, and I am happy that he backs up that decision by an active religious practice.
Without having full knowledge of all the details of the situation, I can’t say for sure whether the church would consider the marriage valid, but I think it’s important that you maintain a close relationship with your son.
If he were my child, I would certainly attend his wedding with no fear of committing a mortal sin.
July 4, 2016
Can a priest promote a liberal political agenda?
My pastor has very liberal political convictions, and he often uses his Sunday homilies to promote the latest liberal agenda. I feel this is an abuse of his pastoral position and I resent his doing this, particularly because my own political beliefs are rather conservative.
Recently, after the pope’s message on the modern family, our pastor said this from the pulpit: “All relationships must be honored.”
He wanted us to honor same-gender marriage despite the fact that the pope had said that it was not acceptable.
Other parishioners have also noticed this and are concerned about it. I have seriously considered changing parishes if this continues. (Southern Illinois)
The Catholic Church’s guidance to its priests is clear: As public representatives of the church, they should neither endorse nor oppose political parties or particular candidates for office. (Not incidentally, this also matches the law of the land as applied to tax-exempt institutions.)
At the same time, as the U.S. bishops said in their 2015 document Faithful Citizenship: “The church’s obligation to participate in shaping the moral character of society is a requirement of our faith.”
So the Catholic Church, rightly and necessarily, takes positions on a host of public policy issues, among which are: care for the poor, the sick and the elderly; protection of human life at every stage; opposition to the death penalty; attention to “just war” principles; and support for a living wage.
Obviously, such advocacy will often intersect with the viewpoint of one or another political party or candidate.
On immigration, for example, the position of the Catholic Church is clear. In a 2003 pastoral letter entitled “Strangers No Longer,” the U.S. bishops stressed that “when persons cannot find employment in their country of origin to support themselves and their families, they have a right to find work elsewhere in order to survive” and that “more powerful economic nations … have a stronger obligation to accommodate immigration flows.”
In my mind, though, if you are quoting accurately, your pastor went beyond what is discreet (or permitted) by relating his views on immigration to a particular candidate. The focus must be always, and solely, on the issue itself.
What he said about Pope Francis and same-sex marriage might simply be a matter of emphasis and of how you heard him. In his April 2016 exhortation “Amoris Laetitia,” the pope did say that homosexual unions do not match God’s plan for marriage and family, but he also said that “every person, regardless of sexual orientation, ought to be respected in his or her dignity and treated with consideration.”
Before you decide to change parishes, perhaps you and some like-minded parishioners might seek to meet with your pastor and discuss your concerns.
Failing that, if you think that he is clearly violating the church’s guidelines, you always have recourse to the chancery office in your diocese.
My children were baptized as Catholics, but none of them are now practicing Catholics. My middle daughter, through the influence of her husband, has opted to believe that organized religion is more problematic than helpful, and her children do not practice the faith except when I take them to Mass.
Soon I will be traveling with their daughter (my granddaughter) to South America, and I have asked her mother whether I might be able to baptize Sophia before the trip. (I wouldn’t do it without her mother’s permission.)
If her mother consents, may I do that baptism at home, and are there any special prayers that need to be said except: “I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit?”
I love my Catholic faith; I believe that baptism offers a spiritual protection that I want for my granddaughter when we travel together. Please advise. (Jersey City, New Jersey)
You acted properly in first asking Sophia’s mother for permission to have the girl baptized. The church’s Code of Canon Law (in No. 868) provides that, in normal circumstances, the consent of at least one parent is necessary — danger of death being the exception.
Another requirement, however, is the reasonable expectation that the child will be raised as a Catholic.
I’m not sure how old Sophia is right now, but for her to be baptized, some plan should be in place for you or another responsible adult to see to it that she receive the other sacraments of the church, including first penance, first Communion and confirmation — and, of course, that she be brought to Mass regularly.
As to whether you should administer the sacrament yourself, you should not. Canon No. 861 provides that the ordinary minister of baptism is a bishop, priest or deacon.
Yours is not an emergency situation, so you should talk to a local parish to arrange to have Sophia baptized by the parish priest.
June 20, 2016
Why can’t women living in Vatican City vote?
I read in a recent National Geographic there were only two countries in the world which do not allow women to vote.
One was Saudi Arabia, which for centuries treated women as second-class citizens — not permitting them to be seen in public, for example, except for their eyes, and prohibiting them from driving cars.
The other place was Vatican City. Since that article appeared, Saudi Arabia has now extended voting rights to women, leaving the Vatican City State as the only exception. How do you explain that? (Ballston Lake, New York)
Your question is a legitimate one, but a bit misleading. In fact, the only election held at the Vatican is the one to choose a new pope, and since the 11th century only cardinals of the church have been eligible to vote.
So if you’re one of the 800 citizens of Vatican City State, you don’t get to vote even if you’re a man — unless you happen to be one of the cardinal electors.
The good news, though, is that the number of women working at the Vatican has nearly doubled in the last 10 years, according to a recent study conducted by Vatican Radio.
In 2012, a laywoman was named to the position of undersecretary of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, the first laywoman to hold such a high-ranking post in the curial leadership.
Recently, Pope Francis has appointed several women to the International Theological Commission, which assists the Vatican in reviewing doctrinal issues, and, in May of 2016, the pope announced his intention to set up a commission to study the matter of women deacons.
I lost my firstborn son five years ago. Now I have another child, and I have been trying for a year to find a priest to baptize him.
In addition to the lingering grief which comes from losing a child, I have both mental and physical illnesses which make it difficult for me to get to church every Sunday.
In fact, I have not been back to church since my child died, but I do pray, and I look forward to teaching my new little boy to pray and to know about God.
I believe that my son will not be able to get into heaven unless he is baptized, and I worry about that every day.
My parish said that I would have to attend church for three months before having my child baptized, but I never know how I will feel on a particular Sunday so I can’t guarantee that I will be there.
I don’t think it’s fair to my child to deprive him of baptism, of God’s protection and of the chance for heaven just because I am sick.
Please tell me what I can do. (City of origin withheld)
Normally, to baptize a child a priest needs reasonable assurance that the child will be raised in the Catholic faith. When neither parent has been going to church, your parish has evidently chosen to require three months of regular attendance as a sign of your good intentions.
The parish may be unaware of your personal circumstances and the illnesses that make attendance difficult for you. You might make an appointment with your pastor and discuss your situation.
What you might also do is arrange for another Catholic adult — logically, one of your son’s godparents-to-be — to bring the boy to church as he grows up and to see to his religious education.
Comforted by that, your parish may change its mind and schedule the baptism.
If not, you might look for a more sympathetic Catholic pastor nearby or write to your bishop and explain the circumstances.
You probably need not worry about your son’s chances for heaven while you seek to work this out. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (in No. 1261) says that “the great mercy of God … and Jesus’ tenderness toward children … allow us to hope that there is a way of salvation for children who have died without baptism.”
June 6, 2016
Should our bishops take action on global warming?
Pope Francis published his encyclical on global warming in June 2015. What actions has the church initiated to put his recommendations into effect?
Are we waiting for more guidance from the Holy Father, or should we be looking for something from our bishops and priests? (Centertown, Missouri)
Pope Francis did, as you say, address the issue of global warming in his encyclical “Laudato Si’” and the document (perhaps better appreciated under its English title, “On Care for Our Common Home”) speaks of a variety of environmental challenges, urges a broad dialogue on how we are to shape the future of our planet and notes that “a very solid scientific consensus indicates that we are now witnessing a disturbing warming of the climatic system. … Humanity is called to recognize the need for changes of lifestyle, production and consumption, in order to combat this warming or at least the human causes that produce or aggravate it.”
The pope returned to the topic in remarks during his September 2015 White House visit, saying that “climate change is a problem that can no longer be left to a future generation.”
Far from waiting for further guidance, there are steps that can be taken immediately, and the pope mentions some of them in the encyclical: “There is a nobility in the duty to care for creation through little daily actions … avoiding the use of plastic and paper, reducing water consumption, separating refuse, cooking only what can reasonably be consumed … using public transport or carpooling, planting trees, turning off unnecessary lights …”
A good resource is the Global Catholic Climate Movement, which includes on its website a list of “nine things a parish can do to help stop climate change (with no budget and no special expertise).”
Likewise, the Archdiocese of Ottawa in Canada publishes a document called “Care for God’s Creation: A Guide for Parishes,” which suggests that a parish form a “green team” responsible for environmental stewardship in the parish, that Catholic teaching on the environment be incorporated into homilies and bulletin inserts, and that the parish consider such measures as an energy retrofit program and an investment in solar panels.
If we are a universal church, why are holy day Mass requirements so different?
Even in the U.S., most dioceses have transferred Ascension Thursday to a Sunday. Why not all? (Northampton, Pennsylvania)
My answer is that your question is a good one. Part of the current state of the law makes sense to me and part does not. Canon law lists 10 holy days of obligation, but (with the permission of the Vatican) bishops’ conferences within a country may suppress some of them or move them to the nearest Sunday.
The result is that there is wide variety from nation to nation; many countries, like our own, have six non-Sunday holy days of obligation.
Australia and the Netherlands have two.
I can appreciate why certain days might be especially celebrated in certain places. In Italy on Jan. 6, the feast of the Epiphany, Mass is obligatory. Italians traditionally celebrate Epiphany with gift-giving, much as we do on Christmas.
In Ireland, March 17 marks the feast of St. Patrick, that nation’s patron, and it is a holy day of obligation.
Ascension Thursday is a story in itself. Back in the late 1990s, bishops in the United States took notice that Mass attendance on Ascension Thursday had been dropping for a number of years.
(Since the feast occurs on the 40th day after Easter, it can fall anywhere from early May to early June, so people don’t have it fixed in their mental calendars.)
As a result, wishing to highlight the importance of the Ascension, most of the ecclesiastical provinces in the U.S. transferred the celebration of the feast (and the obligation of attending Mass) to the nearest Sunday.
However, the bishops of New England, some mid-Atlantic states and Nebraska kept the Thursday date.
The result is a fair amount of confusion. (And I won’t even go into the universal bewilderment as to which feasts “don’t count” if they fall on a Saturday or a Monday.)
Like you, I would look — some day in the future — for a bit more standardization and a bit less befuddlement.
May 23, 2016
What is “the internal forum” cited by Pope Francis?
In a recent editorial in a Catholic newspaper, I read that, with regard to whether civilly remarried Catholics may receive holy Communion, Pope Francis is now encouraging people to talk to their priest “in the internal forum.” What does that mean?
(From what I can understand, I think it means that the priest will help them to examine their individual conscience so they can decide for themselves whether they feel worthy to receive.) (Indiana)
Your understanding of the “internal forum” is correct. It refers to a private conversation between a Catholic and his or her confessor, which can help to determine the degree of subjective responsibility for a particular action.
In his apostolic exhortation “Amoris Laetitia,” issued in April of 2016, Pope Francis recommends that divorced and civilly remarried Catholics discuss with a priest the specifics of their situation.
While the norm remains unchanged — marriage is indissoluble and, generally speaking, without the benefit of a church annulment, a divorced and civilly remarried Catholic is not considered eligible to receive Communion — the pope acknowledges that each situation is different.
The degree of responsibility is not equal in all cases, circumstances can sometimes mitigate culpability and that “discernment can recognize that in a particular situation, no grave fault exists.”
The pastoral discernment Pope Francis encourages is far from an instantaneous and facile solution.
Instead, it requires a fair amount of reflection and of prayer. The pontiff says it would be wrong to conclude that “any priest can quickly grant ‘exceptions.’”
People, the pope explains, should ask themselves such questions as: “How did they act towards their children when the conjugal union entered into crisis; whether or not they made attempts at reconciliation; what has become of the abandoned party …”
Such a thorough examination might help a person to assess where he or she stands before God and to determine his or her worthiness to receive Communion.
Whatever the decision with regard to Communion, divorced and civilly remarried Catholics should, the pope notes, always be welcome in Catholic parishes and supported in their efforts to raise their children in the Catholic faith.
Something’s been going on for a while in our church. I’ve never said anything to anyone about it, but I do find it annoying.
I was raised to believe that the moments right before, during and after Holy Communion are a sacred time because we encounter Christ in a special way.
There are a few ushers in our parish who shake hands with people in line to receive Communion. Often there is some laughter and small talk that accompany that greeting.
This has now evolved into a situation where some of these same parishioners, while walking up the aisle, tap friends on the shoulder who are kneeling and praying and greet them, too.
I have thought about speaking to our pastor in private about this, and maybe he can mention from the pulpit that Communion is a time for special focus and inner prayer and that such greetings are inappropriate.
What do you think? Am I just being a grouch? (Newport News, Virginia)
You are not being a grouch at all. You are being respectful and reverent and reasonable.
Holy Communion is, as you note, a special time — and for the precise reason you mention: here we meet Jesus Christ in a very personal way, our most intimate contact with the divine this side of heaven.
There’s a story about St. Teresa of Avila, who heard someone say: “If only I had lived at the time of Jesus. … If only I had seen him, talked with him.”
To which St. Teresa is said to have responded: “But do we not have in the Eucharist the living, true and real Jesus present before us? Why look for more?”
You would be well-advised to speak to your pastor regarding your concern, or perhaps send him a note. Sometimes, it seems, we are more logical, more persuasive when we write things out.
May 9, 2016
Can funeral Mass be allowed many years after death?
You noted in a recent column that the Mass is “the most powerful prayer that can be offered on a deceased person’s behalf.”
That comment brought back a wave of sorrow for my wife and me. Ten years ago, her father died after a lengthy and progressive illness.
Due to the fact that we were living out of state at the time, and worsened by some unresolved hard feelings toward their father by other surviving family members, Dad was shuttled into a grave at a veterans’ cemetery before my wife and I could intervene.
Despite the fact that he was a lifelong practicing Catholic, he was buried without even a public wake, and worse still, without the Catholic funeral Mass he richly deserved.
So my question is this: Can he still have a full funeral Mass, not just a memorial Mass, celebrated in his name even though he is already buried, even without the presence of his remains? (If so, I would contact our family’s original pastor.)
It would be an opportunity for Dad’s soul to enjoy a proper requiem, and it would also allow close family and longtime friends a chance to prayerfully ask God’s graces on Dad’s behalf, an opportunity they were deprived of (and shocked by) at the time of his passing. (City of origin withheld)
Yes, you could have a Mass celebrated for your father-in-law even now, 10 years after his death. Technically, I suppose, it would be called a memorial Mass, but in most respects it would be similar to a funeral Mass, except that the body would not be present. (And these days, with cremations becoming more frequent, that is already the case at many funeral Masses.)
I would suggest that you contact your family’s pastor and see if he would be willing to celebrate a separate, special Mass for your father-in-law. (In other words, you would not simply add the deceased’s name to the other intentions at one of the regularly scheduled parish Masses.)
You may want to announce the Mass in a newspaper notice or by contacting friends and family directly. Perhaps you would want to call it an anniversary memorial Mass for your loved one.
At the Mass, you might consider having a small table with your father-in-law’s picture and a bouquet of flowers. (That table could be placed either where people first enter the church or, if the priest is willing, in front near the altar where the casket would ordinarily go.)
Your question, and your sadness and lingering regret, remind me how important it is, at the time of a death, for a family to set aside differences and join in planning funeral rites that best honor the deceased and respect his wishes. Clearly, your father-in-law would have wanted a funeral Mass.
On the third anniversary of his election to the papacy, Pope Francis once again stressed the critical importance for followers of Christ to show mercy.
How would that attitude manifest itself toward those priests dismissed from their ministry because they were found guilty of some sexual crime? (These men are well-known and often their names have been listed on diocesan websites.) (Wynantskill, New York)
In a 2002 meeting in Dallas, the U.S. Catholic bishops fashioned the Charter for the Protection of Children and Young People and adopted a policy of “zero tolerance.” In other words, any cleric found to have sexually abused a minor could never again be allowed to function in public ministry.
Having been present at that meeting, I recall that there were a few bishops who spoke in favor of a more nuanced approach. There are varying levels of gravity, they argued, and each case should be weighed separately, especially when a single offense had occurred many years before, rehabilitative therapy had taken place and a man had functioned productively and flawlessly in ministry ever since.
But the will of the majority prevailed. Zero tolerance was set in place and that policy continues in the church today.
If you are asking whether someone who has been credibly accused will ever be allowed back into ministry, I believe that to be unlikely.
The mercy to which we are called as Christians obliges us, however, to offer forgiveness to those men who have been removed, many of whom helped a fair number of people during their years in ministry and deeply regret the hurt and the harm they caused to individuals and to the church.
April 25, 2016
What is the rule about wearing a veil in church
Recently, I have been “convicted” to wear a veil in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament — both when I am at Mass and during my adoration hours in our parish’s Chapel of Perpetual Adoration. Several other women in the parish have also felt led to do so.
However, I am told that some of these women have been “counseled” by our pastor that he does not want this and feels the wearing of a veil to be prideful.
As a child, of course, I wore a veil at my first Communion and even for some years afterward and never thought it to be prideful.
I would like your opinion. (South Carolina)
The custom of women wearing a veil in church finds a basis in the earliest days of the church, as reflected in the 11th chapter of Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians. That custom, though, may well have reflected the cultural bias of the times because the same chapter says: “For man did not come from woman, but woman from man; nor was man created for woman, but woman for man.”
The 1917 Code of Canon Law (in No. 1262) said that men in church should be bare-headed while women “shall have a covered head.”
(That same canon also said, “It is desirable that, consistent with ancient discipline, women be separated from men in church.”)
But in 1976, an instruction issued by the Vatican Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith indicated that this 1917 directive was no longer in force. (The CDF said, “It must be noted that these ordinances, probably inspired by the customs of the period, concern scarcely more than disciplinary practices of minor importance, such as the obligation imposed upon women to wear a veil on their head. Such requirements no longer have a normative value.”)
In the current Code of Canon Law currently in force, published in 1983, the canon about head veils was not reissued. Clearly, then, women today are not required to cover their heads in church.
Does that mean that they are not permitted to? Of course not.
Within the bounds of modesty, people are free to wear whatever they want — and the only one who is in a position to judge motivation is the wearer.
If you are using a mantilla, or chapel veil, out of vanity — to draw attention to yourself — then that is wrong.
But if you wear it as a sign of reverence, out of respect for the dignity of the Eucharist and our unworthiness before it, then that is a laudable choice. It’s your call, left to your prayerful discretion.
What is the church’s position about “destination weddings,” which may or may not be performed by a priest?
If two previously unmarried Catholics in good standing are married in such a non-church ceremony, will the church accept that marriage? (Schenectady, New York)
My take on “destination weddings” (Cabo San Lucas seems the current rage) is that they are fraught with complication — both from the religious point of view as well as the civil.
To answer your question simply, two Catholics must be married by a Catholic priest or deacon.
Sometimes an “exotic” wedding venue will assure a couple that the venue will find a member of the clergy to officiate, but whether that will turn out to be a Catholic priest or deacon in good standing is always uncertain. (More often than not, it will not be a Catholic at all.)
Further, there is the matter of securing the proper license from a foreign municipal authority and assuring that the marriage will be recognized in the United States.
On more than one occasion in the recent past, I have persuaded Catholic couples bent on a destination wedding to be married beforehand in a quiet ceremony in our parish church with me as the celebrant and with a marriage license from our own city hall.
Following that, they can leave and party in the tropics with their friends and family, confident that their marriage is recognized as official by the church and by the state.
April 11, 2016
Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion
During Lent, more people than usual attend daily Mass in our parish. We have two assigned priests.
For some reason, when the pastor celebrates Mass, the associate doesn’t concelebrate but sits in a pew with the congregation. Then, when it is time for holy Communion, a lay minister helps the pastor distribute, and the associate walks up in the regular Communion line.
I always thought that lay ministers were supposed to be “extraordinary,” i.e., used only when priests were unavailable.
The associate is healthy and very capable, so I am confused. (Upstate New York)
Let me say first that your parish is blessed to have two priests. These days, in most of upstate New York — which is where I, also, am from — the situation is reversed: A single priest is scrambling to cover an entire slate of Masses.
As to the associate who attends daily Mass rather than concelebrates, I can understand. His presence on the altar is not required, and he probably feels that sitting instead in the pews highlights the “priesthood of the laity” and reminds the congregation that all worshippers are privileged to share in offering the eucharistic sacrifice.
As for the distribution of Communion, though, you are correct. Canon 910 of the church’s Code of Canon Law states that the ordinary minister of Communion is a bishop, priest or deacon, and Canon 230 specifies that members of the laity may be asked to assist “when the need of the church warrants it and ministers are lacking.”
The General Instruction of the Roman Missal (the “rule book” for liturgical celebration) is even clearer: “In the distribution of Communion, the priest may be assisted by other priests who happen to be present. If such priests are not present and there is a truly large number of communicants, the priest may call upon extraordinary ministers to assist him” (No. 162).
The reality is that in some parishes in the U.S., one or more of the laity assist in distributing Communion at every Mass — even at daily Masses attended by only a handful of people.
That, technically, is a violation of the guidelines — although it surely does not affect the validity of the Eucharist that is received.
Our diocesan regulations require that a couple give a parish nine months notice prior to a marriage ceremony. Is this an ironclad Catholic Church rule?
I am an 80-year-old widower, planning on marrying an 81-year-old widow.
We don’t see the need for any premarital counseling, etc., since we have both been there before. (City of origin withheld)
No, it is not an ironclad and universal rule of the church. In 2005, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops undertook a study of marriage preparation programs in the more than 100 dioceses around the country.
It found that most dioceses had a six-month guideline for the initial meeting with a priest before the wedding date itself. A few were shorter (three or four months), and several were longer (eight to 12 months).
The guideline was designed to accommodate not only the course of marriage preparation (traditionally called pre-Cana) but also the collection of necessary paperwork (baptismal certificates, etc., and, in your own case, documentation from previous marriages and death certificates of your first spouses).
Of course, the requirement for advance notice is a guideline, not a law, and it admits of reasonable exceptions in particular circumstances such as your own.
Why not simply talk to a local priest and see what he would recommend?
There might still be a pre-Cana course, but it could well be abbreviated, and some dioceses offer a specific informational program for second marriages.
March 28, 2016
Proper gestures during the Our Father
I recently joined a small parish where the entire congregation holds hands together at the Our Father. I feel uncomfortable holding hands with people I don’t know; so instead, I put my hands in a prayer position as a signal to others not to grab for my hands.
There is no other parish close by, and I don’t know how to handle this. (Charleston, West Virginia)
Several priests and seminarians of our diocese have reminded the faithful that only the priest should have his palms raised and extended during the Lord’s Prayer.
However, elsewhere in the country local customs persist. Most typical is that of joining hands with adjacent worshippers. Many end by raising joined hands after the doxology (the closing portion of the prayer.) Can you please clarify the preference of the [Catholic Church]? (Since your column reaches a broad audience, I am hoping that this will help to bring back some harmonization.) (Wichita, Kansas)
The two questions above reflect many that I regularly receive, and they demonstrate the continued angst over bodily gestures at Mass — especially during the Our Father.
And even though I answered a similar question in this column four years ago, that has not — surprising as it may seem — resolved the matter for all time! So let’s try again.
One fact is clear: In response to a query about the correct congregational posture while the Our Father is prayed, the website of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops says simply: “No position is prescribed in the Roman Missal for an assembly gesture.”
I take that to mean that, within reason, people are free to do as they wish.
If you want to raise your hands with palms uplifted, have at it. If you prefer to join hands with your family or a (willing) pew-mate, then do that.
The General Instruction of the Roman Missal (in No. 42) says that, in the liturgy, “a common posture, to be observed by all participants, is a sign of the unity of the members of the Christian community.”
That, however, gives no priest the right to impose a specific and universal gesture when the liturgical guidelines do not call for one. Surely the passion of some for uniformity and “harmonization” does not override everything else. More important, I think, is to leave worshippers free of anxiety and able to lift comfortably their minds and hearts to God.
My wife and I were recently married, and we both feel strongly that we need to set a positive example in a secular culture, which seems to condone so much immorality (sex outside of marriage, contraception, abortion, etc.).
Our dilemma is that there is a really “nice” Catholic couple (recently engaged) in our circle of friends whom we love going out with. The problem is that, as we recently learned, they are cohabitating.
We feel that if we were to continue to socialize with them, we might be condoning immorality.
How do we balance our friendship against the “sin of scandal”?
Is it appropriate to cut off social ties with them until they marry or decide to live separately?
In other words, how do we show them the love of Christ while still upholding the teachings of the church? (Atlanta)
Thank God for people like you and your wife, people willing to adhere to the church’s teaching, which has guided Christians successfully and happily for many centuries.
Your issue now, though, is not so much one of morality as of strategy: What action by you and your wife can best help lead your friends to see the wisdom of the church’s view?
It seems to me that if you were to cut off all ties with them abruptly, this could create resentment and entrench them more deeply in their choice of an immoral lifestyle. (By the way, not just the Catholic Church but many religions hold that couples should not live together as man and wife until they have made a religious and civil commitment that is formal and permanent.)
Why not, instead, take the courageous step of explaining to them, in a quiet and kind way, how much you enjoy their company but also how much the moral values of the church mean to the two of you and how it saddens you to see them stray from those values?
You could suggest to them that they will surely be looking for God’s blessings throughout their marriage and that they might want to speak with the priest who will do their wedding about how to stay close to the Lord until that wonderful day arrives.
March 14, 2016
Being faithful to fasting during Lent
On the two obligatory days of fasting – Ash Wednesday and Good Friday – I do fast, but I get very hungry during the latter part of the day. So I sometimes wait until just after midnight and then satisfy my hunger with an amount of food not in keeping with the notion of fasting.
While I believe that I am meeting the letter of my obligation, I am not sure that I am honoring its spirit. What sort of guidance would you offer? (Manalapan, New Jersey)
The Catholic Church, it seems to me, is rather modest in the dietary discipline it asks from believers. As you note, there are only two days of fasting on the church’s calendar: Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. On those days, Catholics are to limit themselves to only one full (and meatless) meal.
Some food can be taken at the other regular meal times, but that food (combined) should not equal a full meal. Liquids are permitted at any time, but no solid food should be taken between meals.
The discipline of fasting governs only those between the ages of 18 and 59, and it does not apply to anyone for whom it might create a health risk – for example, the sick or the frail, pregnant or nursing women – or even to guests at a meal who cannot fast without offending the host.
We fast, of course, to unite ourselves to Christ and to the burdens he endured on our behalf. Logically, then, this fasting should result in some sacrifice on our part.
In your case, I believe that you are being faithful to the letter and the spirit of the law (assuming that after midnight you are not being gluttonous). The fact that you do struggle later in the day means that it does cost you something – not to mention the fact that you need to stay up so late to satisfy your hunger!
I was raised Catholic – received baptism, first Communion and confirmation – and there was never a problem with my taking holy Communion. Now I am told that, because my husband was previously married, I can no longer take Communion.
What kind of nonsense is this – that he would have to go through a whole process of annulment that could possibly cost umpteen thousands of dollars and would drum up for him headaches from 20 years ago?
My husband is livid because of this, and I am angry and humiliated.
Why should I be shunned and not permitted to take Communion when I had nothing to do with his previous marriage problems? Sorry for venting, but why do they make some of us feel guilty when I don’t think that I did anything wrong? (City of origin withheld)
Your letter reflects the deep disappointment felt by many who are currently considered ineligible to share fully in Catholic sacramental life. It has been the church’s long-held teaching that reception of the Eucharist is a privilege reserved to those considered in good standing – i.e., if married, in a marriage that is valid in the church’s eyes.
Whether that standard should change (meaning, for example, full sacramental participation should be open to those doing their best in their present situation to live according to Gospel values) is a matter of considerable discussion at the present time.
As we await the outcome, let me reduce your worries by one, and that is your fear that an annulment of your husband’s first marriage might cost “umpteen thousands of dollars.” For years, in my diocese, the suggested offering was $350 – to help cover consultations with psychologists, etc., and that fee was regularly waived if it seemed to be a hardship.
Now, as of three weeks ago, that fee has been eliminated entirely in my diocese and in many others, and with strong encouragement from the pope.
February 29, 2016
Should Sunday Mass remain a holy day of obligation?
In the Bible, Jesus says: “Do this in memory of me.” But he doesn’t say that it has to be done every Sunday and holy day. So many young people are falling away from the church because of its rigidity.
Please explain why we are obligated. (Cedar Rapids, Iowa)
The responsibility to gather on Sundays for the Eucharist has been recognized by Christians since the earliest days of the church, although it was not specifically written into law until the fourth century.
That obligation is codified in the current Code of Canon Law (in No. 1246), which says that “Sunday … must be observed in the universal church as the primordial holy day of obligation.”
Sunday is singled out as sacred, of course, because it was the day of Christ’s resurrection. In the Didache, which was the compendium of Christian teaching written in the second half of the first century, believers were directed as follows: “On Sundays, get together and break the bread and give thanks, confessing your sins in order that your sacrifice may be pure.”
It is true, as you say, that the Sunday Mass obligation is a precept of the church rather than a verbatim command of Jesus, and therefore it could be modified by competent church authority. But it doesn’t seem to me that removing the obligation would serve to bring young people back to more regular eucharistic practice.
The solution, I think, has more to do with liturgies that celebrate joyfully what Jesus has done, with homilies that are well-prepared and directed to the challenges people face daily, and — most of all — with parents who show their children, by example, the importance of the Mass in their lives.
Recently we celebrated the feast of the Epiphany, and I was reminded what an important feast it is. (Jesus and Mary were present, and in some parts of the world, the feast is called “Little Christmas.”)
My question is this: Why isn’t the Epiphany one of the mysteries of the rosary?
When St. John Paul II introduced the “luminous mysteries,” the Epiphany could have been the third of these mysteries — instead of “the spread of the kingdom,” which is still a mystery to me!
I feel presumptuous second-guessing JPII, but would you please comment? (Dublin, Ohio)
When Pope John Paul II in 2002 proposed a new set of mysteries, he did so because he wanted to make the rosary more of an overview of the entire life of Christ. He felt that there was a gap between the childhood of Jesus, which we meditate on in the joyful mysteries, and Christ’s passion and death, reflected on in the sorrowful mysteries.
(The glorious mysteries celebrate the triumph over sin and death of Christ and the Virgin Mary.)
The pope pointed out that it is during his three years of public ministry that Jesus reveals his identity to us and invites us to share in his vision of God’s plan. (If the Epiphany were to be added, as you suggest, it would properly belong to the joyful mysteries — but that would make six of those, and our present rosary beads would be out of date!)
I agree with you that the third of these luminous mysteries (the proclamation of the kingdom) is rather generic and a bit harder to grasp than the other four, which highlight specific events (the baptism in the Jordan, the miracle at Cana, the Transfiguration and the institution of the Eucharist).
That third mystery refers to the various parables, especially in Matthew’s Gospel, in which Jesus teaches us the great value of the kingdom of God (a treasure hidden in a field, a pearl of great price, the leaven in the flour, a mustard seed, etc.)
February 15, 2016
Shouldn’t saving persecuted Christians be a priority?
It is my understanding that the Catholic Church, along with other religious organizations, is helping to relocate Syrian and other Middle Eastern refugees, of whom more than 90 percent are Muslim. Shouldn’t saving persecuted Christians from this region be the priority?
The church has to realize that, as terrorism by these refugees continues to escalate here at home, the church will become an accomplice in these acts. I lost an acquaintance (a Messianic Jew) in the San Bernardino, California, massacre. Some of these Muslims will participate in terrorist acts, and an even larger percentage — though quietly passive — will support such terrorism.
I have written to Catholic Charities, my diocesan newspaper and the League of Bishops expressing my concerns but have received no response. Now I no longer donate to Catholic Charities — or to any collection when I do not know fully what my money supports. I no longer contribute to Catholic education since I learned that one diocese has provided a “prayer room” at a Catholic high school for the Muslim students.
The church will have much to answer for, as Muslim attacks continue to go logrithmic (sic) in this country. The actions of my church have led me to a personal “crisis of faith.”
Does the Bible, or do the teachings of Jesus, ever tell us that we should willfully provide for our own demise? (City of origin withheld)
Normally I would not choose to run a letter like this because of its blatant bias. But realism causes me to worry that there may be other readers who share some of the feelings expressed, so I prefer to respond.
No, we needn’t choose to participate in our demise. Pope Francis, in his address to diplomats in January 2016, called for nations to “find the right balance between its twofold moral responsibility to protect the rights of its citizens and to ensure assistance and acceptance to migrants.”
In the past five years, at least 4 million Syrians have fled their country as a consequence of the civil war and the rise of the Islamic State terrorist group. Children make up more than half of those displaced, and they have paid the heaviest price.
According to data gathered by Catholic Relief Services, “many have witnessed violence and the loss of homes or loved ones; the vast majority have been out of school for years.”
Christian humanitarian groups such as CRS and World Vision, which are on the ground helping refugees, do not distinguish between Christians and non-Christians; they simply serve all who are desperately seeking a home.
American priest Jesuit Father Tom Smolich, the international director of Jesuit Refugee Services, said, “The idea of only taking Christian refugees is contrary to what we stand for as an immigrant nation.”
To view Muslims generically as terrorist sympathizers is not only irresponsible but wildly inaccurate. In a 2014 Christmas letter, Pope Francis noted that “Islam is a religion of peace, one which is compatible with respect for human rights and peaceful coexistence.”
In November 2015, Auxiliary Bishop Eusebio Elizondo of Seattle, chairman of the U.S. bishops’ Committee on Migration, echoed that observation: “These refugees are fleeing terror themselves,” he said. “They are extremely vulnerable families, women and children who are fleeing for their lives. We cannot and should not blame them for the actions of a terrorist organization.”
What can one do with old missals that no longer follow the current Mass? I have one from when I was young (I am now 71) and even one from my mother, who is long gone.
I know that I cannot throw them out. Does one burn them?
I asked my parish priest, who did not seem to know. (Columbia, Maryland)
In November 2011, when the revised Roman Missal rendered obsolete the Sacramentary and Lectionary, which the church had used for decades, the Secretariat of Divine Worship at the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops was asked by many parishes what should be done with the old books. It recommended that they be buried in an appropriate location on parish grounds or, in the alternative, that the books first be burned and the ashes then buried.
But that advice was predicated on the fact that those books might well have been blessed, since the church’s Book of Blessings does provide a ritual for blessing official liturgical books to be used at Mass.
Your situation, though, is different. Presumably your old missal, and your mother’s, were never blessed.
So I don’t think that you should feel any obligation to burn them. (In fact, it might be dangerous for you to try!) And can you imagine if all books or booklets that contained Mass texts had to be burned and/or buried — including the hundreds of thousands of seasonal missalettes that move into obsolescence each year?
You may dispose of your missals in whatever respectful way you choose — but you might first ask whether your parish library might want them for their historical value.
February 1, 2016
Is repentance required for forgiveness?
Regarding your recent column on forgiving ISIS: Must forgiveness be predicated on remorse and repentance by the offending party?
I am thinking of Christ being crucified and saying, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing” — or St. Stephen forgiving those who had stoned him. (Greenwich, Connecticut)
Jesus said that we must forgive or our heavenly father will not forgive us.
The forgiving of the offending person — with my will — can happen right away, with God’s grace, even when I am still very hurt and angry.
Forgiving does not mean that the person is exonerated, should be let out of prison if there has been a crime, or that I should trust him or even relate to him if he continues to be dangerous. (Pope John Paul II forgave his would-be assassin in prison but never requested that he be released.)
The clincher for me was hearing a speaker say that if I held on to resentment, hate or anger toward a person who hurt me, how was I different from that person? (Columbus, Ohio)
It has been my formation and my understanding that forgiveness is not about the other. It is about us.
Forgiveness is a decision one makes to let go of the power that the perpetrator has over your mind, your heart, your emotions. Holocaust survivors such as Corrie ten Boom have forgiven their Nazi persecutors, even those who killed her family members. (City of origin withheld)
In a recent column regarding forgiveness, I said this in part: “A parishioner happened to ask me, after the Paris bombings, how he could ever ‘forgive ISIS.’
I told him that he didn’t have to, because forgiveness (in my mind) presumes remorse on the part of the perpetrator and a pledge of changed behavior, both of which are notably lacking in the ISIS terrorists.”
I said that we should pray for those benighted individuals and leave judgment of them to God — while also remembering, of course, to pray especially for their victims.
Few columns that I have written have generated as much response — most of it negative. The questions/responses above are just a sampling of the opinions expressed.
As with any fair criticism, I think my responsibility is to evaluate it, re-examine the original question and determine whether the new comments might cause me to modify my first response.
I have done that — honestly, I hope — and my answer is still the same. Jesus did say of his persecutors, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing.”
I have always taken this to mean that Christ realized that his executioners had not measured the gravity of their offense; had no awareness that they were killing the author of life, the savior of the world, the icon of all goodness; had felt they were simply fulfilling a civic duty by ridding themselves of someone who threatened to foment revolution in Roman-occupied Israel.
Jesus, I think, was asking God to take all of this into consideration before judging them.
As for the ISIS terrorists, I have no microscope into their minds and their motivation. That is why I chose, in my response, to pray for them, while leaving any judgments to God.
But I don’t think that I am bound to forgive them — or to operate on the assumption that they were nobly motivated — and I base my opinion, in particular, on two other Gospel passages.
In Matthew 18:15-17, Jesus speaks of those who sin against other members of the community of his followers; Jesus says that their faults should be pointed out but that if they refuse to listen, they should be treated as “a gentile or a tax collector.”
That, to me, does not sound like a plea for forgiveness.
Even more clearly, in Luke 17:3-4, Jesus says:” If your brother sins, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. And if he wrongs you seven times in one day and returns to you seven times saying, ‘I am sorry,’ you should forgive him.” Note especially that forgiveness is conditioned on the offender’s apology.
And isn’t this what the Church has traditionally taught with regard to the sacrament of penance: that the absolution of the priest is predicated on a “purpose of amendment?”
Should the sinner have not the slightest intention of changing the behavior that is sinful, the guilt remains.
So if God’s forgiveness is conditional, is it wrong for our own to be?
January 18, 2016
Does a deacon’s homily need the pastor’s approval?
At Mass recently, I was stunned by a statement made by the deacon who was giving the homily. That has made me wonder whether deacons have sole independence when preparing remarks or if the priest exercises oversight. (City of origin withheld)
On the parish level, the pastor has the ultimate responsibility for the orthodoxy and propriety of what is said from the pulpit.
To answer your question directly: A deacon does not have “sole independence” for his remarks.
In practice, though, rarely does this result in the pastor’s “pre-screening” a deacon’s homilies. By the very fact that he has allowed and invited the deacon to preach, the pastor has indicated his confidence that the deacon will handle things maturely and well. Deacons do not pop up suddenly from a congregation on a Sunday morning.
Before being ordained, deacons undergo a fairly intensive “vetting” process that includes several years of theological education, psychological evaluation and tutoring in pastoral techniques.
Returning to your question, you would be best advised to bring your concern to your pastor.
If he, like you, is “stunned” by what the deacon is said to have said, he will surely bring it to the deacon’s attention to avoid future problems.
If he deems it necessary, the pastor might even see fit to make a correction from the pulpit.
Jan. 1, 2016, is a holy day of obligation. But our parish calendar shows that next year, Jan. 1 will not be a holy day of obligation — i.e., Jan. 1, 2017.
If holy days are so important, why do some oblige Mass attendance while others do not?
Doesn’t this send a message that some of them are not really that critical?
Also, for the past two years — even while it has been a holy day of obligation, our church has scheduled only one Mass on Jan. 1. Obviously, the entire parish cannot fit into the church for one Mass.
Isn’t this a tacit acknowledgement that this feast day is not very important? (Clifton, New Jersey)
The feast of Mary, the mother of God, takes place on Jan. 1, 2016, and is a holy day of obligation.
That means that Catholics in the United States have a serious responsibility, binding under the pain of sin, to participate at the celebration of the Eucharist on that day.
The following year, the feast you mention happens to fall on a Sunday. Parishioners are already obliged to be at Mass on that day.
The best answer to your question can be found in this: Each national conference of bishops has the prerogative of determining the holy days of obligation for their country.
In 1991, the bishops of the U.S. decided that whenever Jan. 1, Aug. 15 and Nov. 1 take place on a Saturday or a Monday, the obligation to attend Mass is lifted.
(In other words, your presence at a weekend Mass would “cover you” both for the feast day and for the Sunday.)
But on two holy days, American Catholics are obliged to go to a feast day Mass no matter on what day they occur — Christmas and Dec. 8 (the Immaculate Conception, which is the patronal feast of our nation).
Does that mean that the bishops considered these two days to be “more important” than the other holy days?
That seems a logical conclusion, but it remains true that the other holy days were still important enough in the mind of the bishops to require attendance at Mass.
As to your concern about your parish offering only one Mass on Jan. 1 even when it has been a holy day of obligation, I agree with you.
I don’t think it’s an acknowledgement that this particular feast is not important, but it may be a concession that Mass on this date is not nearly as well attended as it ought to be — and pedagogically, I don’t think it’s good to cater to people’s delinquency.
I would think it better, if priests are available, to have at least two feast day Masses — perhaps a vigil early in the evening on Dec. 31 and then a morning Mass on Jan. 1, to make it more convenient for people to fulfill their obligation and start the new year off right by seeking the blessing of the Lord.
January 4, 2016
Should there be a sanctuary lamp for the Blessed Sacrament?
Some years ago, I was driving my car in an unfamiliar area and felt a desire to stop in a church and pray. I came across a huge barn of a building with no sign on the outside, and I wondered whether it might be “one of ours” (i.e., a Catholic church).
I entered and saw a red candle lighted, to the right of the altar, and I knew that I was “home.” In more recent years, though, some of the Catholic churches I visit have no red light, and the Blessed Sacrament is locked away in a chapel.
Perhaps this is just a quirk of my home diocese, but I can’t help wondering: Why are we hiding God? (Orange, California)
The “sanctuary lamp,” to which you refer, is actually required in a Catholic church whenever the Blessed Sacrament is reserved. The General Instruction of the Roman Missal (the GIRM, the church’s liturgical “rule book”) says in No. 316 that “near the tabernacle a special lamp, fueled by oil or wax, should shine permanently to indicate the presence of Christ and honor it.”
Note that it need not be red, though certainly that is the traditional color.
As for your concern with the Eucharist’s being “locked away in a chapel,” you should know that the GIRM does provide an option (in No. 315) so that the Blessed Sacrament may be reserved “either in the sanctuary, apart from the altar of celebration” or “even in some chapel suitable for the private adoration and prayer of the faithful.”
That chapel, though, must be “organically connected to the church and readily noticeable by the Christian faithful.”
I am assuming that you have not seen the Eucharist literally “locked away,” since that would preclude the chance for adoration. In our parish, we have a separate eucharistic chapel. It can accommodate six to eight people, who may kneel or sit in quiet meditation before the Blessed Sacrament.
Just outside this chapel, visible as one enters the main body of the church, is a (red) sanctuary lamp that is kept lighted throughout the day and night. Far from “hiding God,” I believe this small but prayerful place honors the presence of Jesus in a special way and beckons people to visit.
I am appalled that the church has apparently bought into the climate change mania. This, despite significant scientific evidence to the contrary — and especially in spite of its obvious political motivation.
Am I a bad Catholic for opposing this church position? (Troy, New York)
Clearly, the Catholic Church views climate change as a dangerous reality in need of a global solution. In his May 2015 encyclical on the environment (“Laudato Si’”) Pope Francis said the following: “A very solid scientific consensus indicates that we are presently witnessing a disturbing warming of the climatic system.”
He continued: “Humanity is called to recognize the need for changes of lifestyle, production and consumption, in order to combat this warming or at least the human causes that produce or aggravate it.”
He also added: “There is an urgent need to develop policies so that, in the next few years, the emission of carbon dioxide and other highly polluting gases can be drastically reduced, for example, substituting for fossil fuels and developing sources of renewable energy.”
In November of 2015, on a plane returning from Africa, Pope Francis told reporters that an international agreement on climate change was needed to save a world “at the limits of suicide.”
The church’s moral position is based on a strong consensus within the international scientific community: Since 2001, some 34 national science academies worldwide have made formal declarations confirming human-induced climate change and urging nations to reduce emissions of greenhouse gases.
In December 2015, Cardinal Peter Turkson, president of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, while strongly supporting the pope’s ecology encyclical on the call for climate control, told the National Catholic Register that the pope was “not claiming any dogmatic position” or proclaiming “an article of faith.”
So, directly to your question: I suppose that you can be a good Catholic and still disagree with the church on climate change. I just wonder whether you are being a good scientist.
December 21, 2015
What is the Christian response to ISIS?
What is the Christian response to ISIS? (Harrisonburg, Virginia)
The Christian response to ISIS is to deplore their violence and to seek the most effective means to stop it.
In March 2015, in what was seen as an unusually blunt endorsement of military action, the Vatican’s representative to the United Nations in Geneva called for a coordinated international force to stop the “so-called Islamic State.” Archbishop Silvano Tomasi said that any anti-ISIS coalition should include the Muslim states of the Middle East and unfold under the sponsorship of the United Nations.
Archbishop Tomasi noted that everything possible ought to be done first to achieve a political settlement without violence, “but if that is not possible, then the use of force will be necessary.”
Following the ISIS bombings in Paris in November 2015 (which Pope Francis deplored as “intolerable” and said “using God’s name to justify this path is blasphemy”), Vatican Secretary of State Cardinal Pietro Parolin backed the possibility of global military action against ISIS militants.
He referenced the Catechism of the Catholic Church (No. 2308), which states that “as long as the danger of war persists and there is no international authority with the necessary competence and power, governments cannot be denied the right of lawful self-defense, once all peace efforts have failed.”
A parishioner happened to ask me, after the Paris bombings, how he could ever “forgive ISIS.” I told him that he didn’t have to, because forgiveness (in my mind) presumes remorse on the part of the perpetrator and a pledge of changed behavior, both of which are notably lacking in the ISIS terrorists.
I said that we should pray for those benighted individuals and leave judgment of them to God — while also remembering, of course, to pray especially for their victims.
I am the mother of three adopted children, ages 5 to 15. We live in a small house with no extra space. A year ago, we came to my mother-in-law’s rescue when she was having some problems and offered her temporary shelter until she could get back on her feet.
Now, though, she is still with us and depends on us to do everything for her. She just sleeps, eats (she weighs over 300 pounds) and talks on her cellphone; she interferes in the life of the family and refuses to help with any chores of the house.
I am on disability myself, our family life is unhealthy and the children are suffering from her presence in our midst.
My question is this: Would it be uncharitable for me to tell her to go live on her own and to leave this house before I go crazy? (City of origin withheld)
Your first obligation is to your husband and to your children. If, as you say, your mother-in-law’s presence is seriously impacting your family’s health and happiness, she needs to leave.
And you need, very quickly, to have an honest conversation with your husband as to how to accomplish this in as kind a manner as possible (keeping in mind that there is, of course, no perfect way.)
Can you help to guide your mother-in-law into an alternate living arrangement? (Perhaps a local parish priest or Catholic social services agency could advise you on some suitable alternatives that would address her physical and psychological concerns.)
Far from prohibiting this course of action, charity in fact demands that you take this courageous step — for the greater good of your entire family.
December 7, 2015
Is it right for ‘sales’ to be held at Sunday Mass?
I am wondering about church law (and your own feelings) on people coming to Mass and being confronted every week with different parish clubs and organizations trying to sell something.
In my parish on any given Sunday, there might be as many as three “sales” going on before and after Mass. (A couple of weeks ago, we even had a woman walking up and down the church aisle selling candy bars.)
I’ve always thought that we go to Mass to show our reverence for the Lord and not to walk into a flea market. (Upstate New York)
From time to time, I have heard people decry the practice of selling anything on church property — with the claim that it violates the direct teaching of Jesus who is seen (in all four Gospels) evicting moneychangers from the temple.
A careful reading of those Gospel accounts, though, shows a more nuanced lesson: What troubled Jesus was not the practice itself but the fact that the merchants were defrauding people — selling sacrificial animals at considerable personal profit or exchanging money at an extortionate rate.
The transactions themselves were understandable: Worshippers making their annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem’s sacred site could not be expected to carry sheep with them from a considerable distance, and the Roman currency of the realm was not acceptable for paying the temple tax.
How, then, does the action of Jesus translate to the current practice you reference — selling food, religious books or tapes, raffle tickets, etc., in the gathering area (lobby) of the church? Note that I said the “gathering area.” Walking down the church aisle selling candy bars is, I agree, outrageous.
To your question, I am not aware of any church “laws” that relate to this, and there is certainly no absolute prohibition against it. Rather it is, I believe, a matter of balance and discretion.
From time to time in our parish, I have approved the sale of merchandise as people exit Mass — handmade goods crafted by poor people from around the world; coffee to support efforts to raise people out of poverty; even, on occasion, Girl Scout Cookies to support a local troop or tickets to an upcoming Christmas dinner for parish seniors.
I do, however, have rules. It should only happen occasionally and there should never be multiple sales on the same day (parishioners should not be made to “run the gauntlet” as though they were in a shopping mall). Also, it should be done as people exit Mass, not as they arrive.
I have two other concerns. First, we often have visitors to the parish, including non-Catholics who have sometimes absorbed the myth that the Catholic Church cares most about raising money. I don’t want to foster that myth.
And I also have a philosophical concern: Rampant consumerism dominates America. Rather than promote it, I would prefer to create a space and a time on Sunday mornings for people to be free of the pressure to buy something.
I am a 20-year-old Catholic from the United Kingdom who happened to stumble on your “Ask a Priest” page, and I am hoping that you can answer my question. I have always heard that usury is a sin, but I’m not sure exactly what usury is.
Is it any interest on a loan or just an excessively high interest rate (more than just to cover the cost of handling the loan)? And if charging interest is a sin, can a Catholic morally take out loans which have interest, such as mortgages or student loans — or even own a bank account which pays a small amount of interest? (London)
In modern times, usury is thought of as exploiting the poor by lending money at an exorbitant rate of interest. But for the first 1,500 years of the church, it was taken to mean charging any interest at all and was generally condemned by church fathers, popes and councils. The history of how the current position evolved is a long and complicated one, and conflicting statements can sometimes be found.
In the Gospel of Luke (Lk 6:35), Jesus says, “Love your enemies and do good to them, and lend expecting nothing back.” Situated in the passage on the Beatitudes, this would seem to be an appeal for Christian generosity rather than a proclamation on the intrinsic immorality of interest-taking.
In fact, in the parable of the talents, Jesus criticizes the “lazy” servant for failing to invest his money where it could have borne interest (Mt 25:14-30).
In the largely agrarian society of medieval Europe, lending money involved the few rich people making loans to their dirt-poor neighbors for basic needs such as food or winter clothing. In such circumstances, it was thought to be wrong to profit from another’s distress.
By the year 1515, though, usury had acquired a more nuanced definition, as stated by the Fifth Lateran Council: “That is the real meaning of usury: when, from its use, a thing which produces nothing is applied to the acquiring of gain and profit without any work, any expense or any risk.”
Moralists were slowly beginning to see that the borrower could legitimately be charged for the opportunity foregone by the lender to use the money himself and also for the risk that the lender might never get his money back.
So, to sum up, charging a moderate rate of interest is permitted by the church. Mortgages and students loans meet the test, as does gaining interest on a bank deposit.
November 23, 2015
Explaining the Eucharist to a child
At Mass recently, after listening intently to the words of consecration, our 4-year-old granddaughter whispered to my wife, “Is wine really blood?”
How would you answer her question? Also, would your answer be different for a 7-year-old, a teenager or an adult taking RCIA classes? (Florence, South Carolina)
First of all, I credit your granddaughter for her attentiveness and only wish that many of the grown-ups at Mass were so sharply focused.
Next, the short and completely truthful answer to her question is, “Yes.”
At Mass, following the consecration, what started as wine has now been changed into the blood of Christ. That is the “mystery of faith” that the church has taught for 2,000 years. (St. Thomas Aquinas, in his 13th-century “Summa Theologica” noted that the priest, in repeating the words of Jesus, does not say, “This bread is my body”; he says, instead, “Hoc est enim corpus meum,” which is simply, “This is my body.”)
This is the “hard saying” referred to in the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel. Jesus had said, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.”
Even though many disciples would not accept that teaching and walked away, Jesus made no attempt to call them back by saying that he had only been speaking symbolically.
Now having said this, I don’t think your granddaughter needs to know all of that right now. Little children think in pictures, so I’m not sure that I would mention “body and blood” at all.
I might say something like, “It still tastes like wine, but it’s different now and special; it’s Jesus coming into our souls to help us to be good.”
I’m not even sure that a teenager is ready for a philosophical explanation of transubstantiation, but in fairness I think that I would try — as I certainly would with an adult Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults catechumen.
(I would explain that the “accidents” of bread and wine remain — the taste, smell, texture — but that, in the Mass, the “substance” is changed into the body and blood of Christ.)
I have very deep feelings of anger toward my parents. I won’t go into the details, except to say that I have caused many hard feelings in the past but can’t seem to admit my guilt and take the blame.
My parents, I know, have made many sacrifices on my behalf and helped me to become a successful adult — but I still can’t seem to free myself of my historic grudge against them.
Now this is bothering me a lot and I’m wondering if it is a sign that I should stop receiving holy Communion until I can resolve this resentment. (New Orleans)
Without knowing the basis for your “grudge,” it’s hard to decide whether it might be helpful for you to talk it out directly with your parents or perhaps with a counselor.
But I don’t think that you should stop receiving holy Communion. Feelings are rarely within our total control; what we can manage, though, is what we say or do against the background of those feelings.
I’m guessing that your behavior toward your parents is decent and your conversations with them kind — and your own preference would clearly be to free yourself of the angry feelings.
Moreover, Pope Francis said in “Evangelii Gaudium” that the Eucharist is “not a prize for the perfect but a powerful medicine and nourishment for the weak.”
I hope your continued reception of the Eucharist will sustain you in your goodwill and guide you in reducing your anger.
November 9, 2015
Following Jesus vs. the American lifestyle
My husband and I live relatively modestly by American standards, are conscious of the amount of resources we use and tithe 10 percent. However, I realize that even doing so we are still living in extreme luxury compared to most people in the world.
In the Gospel, Jesus talks of embracing poverty and leaving all possessions behind to follow him. I feel guilty about having so much, but I also feel that if my husband and I gave up further luxuries (e.g., a computer or a car), it would limit our ability to maintain our jobs, keep contact with friends and family, engage in volunteer activities, go to church, etc.
So, is it possible to follow Jesus in America while living a somewhat “normal” American lifestyle? (Indianapolis)
The biblical passage to which you refer is found in all three of the synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke).
A rich young man approaches Jesus and asks what he needs to do to be saved. Jesus recites to him the commandments and when the man says that he has indeed followed them, Jesus suggests that he take one further step: to sell all that he has and give the proceeds to the poor, and then come and follow Christ.
Endless commentary has been written about these words and whether they were an invitation or a command. I believe that they were an invitation, and I would argue in particular from Matthew’s version (19:21), which has Jesus saying, “If you wish to be perfect …”
Also, when Zacchaeus the tax collector in Jericho was so taken by Christ that he pledged to give away “half” of his possessions and to repay fourfold anyone he had defrauded, Jesus was obviously pleased and said that salvation had come that day to Zacchaeus’ house.
So I do not believe that every Christian is bound to live in abject poverty, although Christ encourages such a choice and many of his disciples over the centuries have made that choice.
But all Christians are bound to reflect continually on their lifestyle and to examine whether they are doing as much as they might for those who have been blessed with less.
This does not mean that you have to give up your job or your computer or that you can abandon your responsibility to raise and educate your children. It has more to do with where your ultimate loyalty lies — and that should not be in material possessions. (Luke says in 12:34, “Where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.”)
From the description of your current lifestyle, I believe that you and your husband are surely faithful disciples of Jesus.
I have tried in vain to find out whether Pope Francis has ever had the chance to visit in person with his only surviving sibling since he was elected pope. (I have read that she — Maria Elena Bergoglio, his youngest sister — has not been well.) Will Pope Francis ever get a chance to see her? (Honolulu)
I can find nothing to indicate that Maria Elena has visited Rome since her brother’s election in March. His only surviving sibling, 12 years younger than the pope, she has been hospitalized briefly a couple of times during the past two years with various ailments, which I do not believe were life-threatening.
When her brother was elected pope, he telephoned her immediately during his first free moments. She told an interviewer that she had not expected his election and was actually rooting for someone else because she wanted her brother back home.
In late 2014, Maria Elena’s son said in a Latin American blog that his uncle “Jorge” was continuing to telephone his family once or twice a week. He said that they had not yet traveled to Rome and preferred to wait instead until the pope was able to visit Argentina.
In September 2015, Monsignor Guillermo Karcher, an Argentinian priest who is on the Vatican staff, told the Buenos Aires Herald that the pope is expected to travel to Argentina in 2017. (Maria Elena had told the press that she wants “two minutes to hug him.”)