In Umbris Sancti Petri

Today is the Feast of Saint Andrew, the Apostle. Andrew was the first of the disciples to follow Christ, as we learn from multiple accounts in the Gospels. Matthew describes Andrew as fishing in the sea with his brother, Peter, when Jesus walks along and calls them both from their nets to become “fishers of men” (Mt 4:19); John portrays a different scene, wherein John the Baptist, seeing Jesus walk by as he is preaching, identifies him as the “Lamb of God,” where after Andrew follows him promptly and asks, “where do you dwell?” Jesus, in perhaps some of the most profound words of John’s Gospel, responds: “Come and see.” (Jn 1:38, 39) This invitation to come and follow him was enough to spark Andrew’s interest in Jesus’ salvific mission of preaching and living the will of the Father.

Andrew was not finished once he found Christ for himself, though. In fact, the true beauty of his call is that he immediately recognized his duty in bringing others to the same Lamb of God; at once he went to Peter and said, “We have found the Messiah… And he brought him to Jesus.” (Jn 1:41, 42) Andrew’s evangelical approach to the Christian life—really, one that stems directly from his recognizing Jesus as someone truly unique—is ultimately what allowed for Peter’s confession to Jesus: “Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Mt 16:16) Had his brother not shown him the way to Christ, Peter would never have been the one to realize Jesus’ true divinity, and thereby would never have been given, as the first leader of the Church (i.e. pope), the “keys to the kingdom of heaven.” (Mt 16:19) In short, Andrew’s mission—however small it might have seemed in the beginning—was truly one to bring about the fullness of God’s plan of salvation by means of the Holy Catholic Church.

In the end, this first Apostle’s life reached its ultimate climax when he met his own death in the same manner as his Master: in the horrible suffering of crucifixion. By offering his own life back to the Lord, who first offered his life for us on the Cross, Andrew gives us a model of absolute submission to the will of God, and to the true meaning of being a disciple of Christ: “For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection.” (Rom 6:5) What a beautiful thing, to have been first called to follow Christ in life, and finally called to follow him in death and into new life! But, this is precisely the call we all share as Christians; nothing less than preparedness for true martyrdom—not simply the daily sufferings we must endure as human beings, but even unto the willing sacrifice of our very life to the greater glory of God! How often do we forget this?

We should pray that Saint Andrew aide us with his prayers, and continue to intercede for us, that our own example of evangelization and self-sacrifice might be dignified, and worthy of the Eternal Life that Our Lord desires so passionately to give to us upon our earthly death. Sancte Andreae, ora pro nobis!

As part of this past weekend’s events, one of the more notable goings-on was the opening of the Apostolic Palace (i.e. the pope’s private quarters) to the public, immediately following the Consistory, for a meet-and-greet with all the new cardinals. Obviously, not a chance to be passed up, I went. Luckily too I happened to get a few pretty nifty pictures (that I will very likely never be able to snap again!). So, without further adieu…

Here is a shot of one of the cardinals greeting his respective well-wishers in the palace's main sala. The newly appointed members of the College of Cardinals were seated (like this) throughout about four or five rooms, doing similarly. It was really a sight to behold, not to mention quite an unusual group to be meandering throughout: European aristocratic-types, royalty (I can only assume), artists, politicians, bishops, priests, married couples, little kids in baby strollers, everybody! By the end of the night, virtually the whole city of Rome had tromped through the pope's personal digs.

Another picture to the right, perhaps one of the most interesting views of the night, is out the window of the great room, looking across the front façade of St. Peter's Basilica; you often see this notable white edifice, but never from such a unique perspective... and from so close! This is what the Holy Father sees everyday on his 'commute' to and from outside events. Not too bad, if you ask me. I certainly thought it was worth the post.

And speaking of nice views, with all the artwork in the building's huge rooms, there is always something new to look at. This picture of the grand room's ceiling is evidence of that. The two rooms in the picture are both ornately painted from top to bottom, and are separated in the doorway by a large marble carving of curtains, suspended in midair by a few life-like little angels. Usually things like this are in museums, so imagine the shock on my friend's face when he leaned up against the wall and then quickly realized he had just been 'smearing' a 300-year-old work of art!

As interesting as all the artwork was, though, what we found outside was far more impressive. With so many people (and so little added security measures, I might add), the unsuspecting seminarian might have aimlessly wandered out the door, down the steps, and into the Vatican gardens. Fortunately for us, however, we knew exactly what we were doing; a private romp through the pope's gardens is quite nice (especially if you don't get caught), and the views of the basilica from behind are even better than from the front.

While I cannot guarantee any similar 'tours' for those who come to visit in Rome, I certainly promise you that I'll try!

Finally, no intrusive trip to the Vatican would be complete without a look at what makes it really unique from the rest of the world: Latin ATM's. That's right. I had always heard about this, but never actually believed it... until I saw it. For all you doubters out there, there really is a place on earth where you can get quick-cash from a machina automatica apscedens. If that isn't an oxymoron, I don't know what is...

In the first Eucharistic Prayer of the Mass (also called the ‘Roman Canon’), we hear the priest say, at the point of consecrating the host, “This is my body, which will be given up for you.” With these very words—the ‘words of institution’—the bread is transubstantiated into the Body of Jesus Christ. The mystery of transubstantiation is worth a whole post, but instead I’d like to focus here on the words of institution.

Any authentic analysis of… well, anything—requires a look at the original ‘thing.’ In this case, to examine the words of institution, let’s look at the original Latin prayers used in the current edition of the Roman Missal. The words of institution are: Hoc est enim corpus meum quod pro vobis tradetur—literally, “This is indeed body mine which for you-all will be handed over.” From this text, two words strike me as differing greatly from the English: enim (“indeed”) and tradetur (“will be handed over”). With enim, emphasis is obviously placed on the veracity of the Eucharistic Sacrifice; it really is Christ’s Body and Blood. But perhaps more interesting is the use of tradetur as a verb for what Christ does with his true Body and Blood.

The Latin tradere is the root of traditio, which can be recognized in English as “tradition.” Ultimately, ‘tradition’ is when something is handed on from one person or group to another; in its original meaning it contains this aspect of linear ‘passing-on.’ However, it also contains a sense of ‘surrender.’ In terms of the Church’s prayer, both are very present. Christ is obviously handing over his Body in sacrifice on the Cross—the very day following the Last Supper—but he is also handing over his Body to the Apostles, so that they may continue ‘handing-on’ the Eucharist to the universal Church through the ages. We miss this distinction with the English, “will be given up for you,” which isolates the sacrificial reality and says nothing of the ‘traditional’ one.


A brief mention should also be made about the place of tradition within the life of the Church. When the Catholic Church speaks of “tradition,” the normal sense of the word entails the whole history of faith, handed down from the Apostles (i.e. the ‘deposit of faith’), which still informs the decisions and teaching of the Church today. Sometimes this is called ‘big-T’ Tradition. On the other hand, ‘little-T’ traditions are those things we encounter in the visible parts of the liturgy (e.g. sitting, kneeling, folding hands, candles, incense, etc.) and in other aspects of Catholic life. Although the same word—“tradition”—refers to both, it is very important to separate the two and make a clear distinction. The ultimate point to remember is this: traditions can change, but the Tradition of the Church cannot.

When we see all of this together—from Jesus’ words prayed at the Mass to the two-fold sense of the word itself—the real meaning of “tradition” becomes even more alive, and the prominence of the Eucharist, as the means of this ‘handing over’ on both the spiritual and doctrinal level, becomes much richer!

After much effort on the part of everyone—from the Holy Father down to the innumerable security teams throughout the city—there are now 23 new cardinals of the Catholic Church. I’m sorry for the delay in posting all of this, but some of that effort (albeit one concerning post-consistory hospitality) was on the part of the North American College, and let’s just say it’s been super busy around here lately. Nevertheless, all those new cardinals are well worth the time we’ve put into making things run smoothly! Immediately following the actually consistory ceremony in St. Peter’s Basilica at 10:30 in the morning, all the American cardinals in town—8 in total—arrived by bus to the NAC for a large-scale reception, which kept on rolling until about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. The two new American cardinals—John Foley and Daniel DiNardo—both had private receptions here at the College and hosted around 1,200 people total… needless to say it was pretty ‘intense.’

Like anything notable in this City, however, there is more. Today, at about Roman noon, the final leg of the consistory marathon came to a completion with the Ring Mass at the Vatican; during the Mass, the Holy Father confers the signet rings on the hands of the newly named cardinals with the words, Accipe anulum de manu Petri et noveris dilectione Principis Apostolorum dilectionem tuam erga Ecclesiam roborari (Receive this ring from the hand of Peter and know that your love for Christ is strengthened by the love of the Prince of the Apostles). Although it was raining toward the end of the liturgy and many of the pilgrims were forced to sit outside the basilica, the spirit of gratitude for the new cardinals was not stifled. Acknowledging their patience, the pope even made an appearance in the piazza after Mass to talk with those who weren’t able to get inside. All in all, today was really great, despite the rain. I suppose that’s to be expected when something this big, involving Benedict XVI and the whole College of Cardinals, happens right in your own backyard…

On a final note, today also happens to be the Feast of Christ the King—the final Sunday before the celebration of Advent. The Holy Father’s homily at Mass spoke directly to the significance of this beautiful feast, as well as its connection with the installation of cardinals who are now “princes of the Church,” but ultimately ought to be willing to shed their blood as Christ, the true King, did for his beloved Bride.

Today the Holy Father met with the college of Cardinals for prayer and reflection at 9:30 with the recitation of Mid-Morning Prayer. I had the privilege of eating lunch today with His Eminence Cardinal Egan and he said the meetings were going well. The theme of the reflections was "Ecumenical dialogue with respect to the light of prayer and the command of the Lord: Ut Unum Sint: That they may be one."

Cardinal Walter Kasper, the President of the Pontifical Council for the Union of Christians, traced the theme on ecumenical relations in the following four areas:

1. The relationship with the ancient oriental Churches and the Orthodox Churches.

2. The relationship with the ecclesial Communities born from the Reformation of the 16th century.

3. The relationships with the charismatic and pentecostal movements which developed last century.

Then there was a discussion with an open exchange of experiences and opinions, which respected the variety of the situations. Seventeen cardinals intervened, touching on diverse problems from the common ecumenical engagement among Christians in the social fields (Cardinal McCarrick spoke on this matter) to the defense of moral values in modern society. The theme of "purification of memory", so dear to John Paul II, was spoken of as a means of attentively communicating with other Christians with respect to their sensibilities. Finally there was a discussion on the relationship between Catholics and Jewish people as well as those of other religions.

CITTA' DEL VATICANO, 23 NOV. 2007 (VIS). Venerdì 30 novembre 2007, alle ore 11:30, presso la Sala Stampa della Santa Sede, avrà luogo la Conferenza Stampa di presentazione della nuova Enciclica del Santo Padre Benedetto XVI dal titolo: "Spe salvi". Alla Conferenza Stampa interverranno il Cardinale Georges Marie Martin Cottier, O.P., Pro-Teologo emerito della Casa Pontificia ed il Cardinale Albert Vanhoye, S.I., Professore emerito di Esegesi del Nuovo Testamento, Pontificio Istituto Biblico.

(L’Enciclica è da considerarsi sotto embargo fino alle ore 12 di venerdì 30 novembre. Per le agenzie, embargo anche di trasmissione.

Il testo dell’Enciclica - in lingua latina, italiana, francese, inglese, tedesca, spagnola, portoghese e polacca - sarà a disposizione dei giornalisti accreditati, a partire dalle ore 9.00 di venerdì 30 novembre 2007.)
OP/ENCICLICA:SPE SALVI/COTTIER:VANHOYER VIS 071123 (80)

Translation:
From Vatican City, November 23, 2007 (VIS). Friday November 30, 2007, at 11:30 am, near the Sala Stampa della Santa Sede (The Press Hall of the Holy See) there will be a conference to present the new Encyclical of the Holy Father Benedict XVI entitled: "Spe Salvi". At the Press Conference Cardinal Georges Marie Martin Cottier, O.P., Pro-Theologian emeritus of the Pontifical Household and Cardinal Albert Vanhoye, S.J., Professor emeritus of the Church of the New Testament, Pontifical Biblical Institute will intervene.

(The Encyclical is to be considered under embargo until 12pm on Friday November 30. For the agencies, the embargo is also of transmission.

The text of the Encyclical - In Latin, Italian, French, English, German, Spanish, Portuguese and Polish - will be given to accredited journalist at 9 am when the leave on Friday November 30, 2007.)

With great excitement we look forward to the words of the Holy Father on the topic of Hope.

If you want to read a wonderful book by the Holy Father on Faith, Hope and Love, you can find it here.

In the 19th Century, the Liturgical Movement began to pick up steam as theologians called for a new liturgical piety, which flowed from the faithful's participating more fully in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass by uniting their hearts and minds to the prayers and actions of the liturgy. This objective was greatly aided by the use of hand missals, which had the prayers in both Latin and English so that the faithful could more easily follow along. This Liturgical Movement was officially recognized by the Church in 1947, when Pope Pius XII released the Church's first liturgical encyclical, Mediator Dei, "The Mediator of God." It was during these years that Pius XII set up a commission to help with the reform of the Liturgy, and this was well before Vatican II; this commission was responsible for the restoration of the Easter Vigil among other things.

When Pope John XXIII announced the Second Vatican Council in January of 1959, Pius XII's commission was ended as the liturgy and its reform would be dealt with during the council. A new commission was eventually set up, being composed of bishops, priests, religious and scholars representing as territorially wide an area as possible. This commission was charged with drawing up a draft for the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council to discuss and work from. The Constitution on the Liturgy was what came from all this work and it was the first document promulgated by Vatican II, giving a clear signal that the Sacred Liturgy is of primary importance to the Church and in it's own words, that "[t]he liturgy is the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed; at the same time it is the font from which all her power flows.” (SC, 10)

The first chapter discusses in a theological fashion the nature of the Sacred Liturgy, namely what is it. “From this it follows that every liturgical celebration, because it is an action of Christ the priest and of His Body which is the Church, is a sacred action surpassing all others; no other action of the Church can equal its efficacy by the same title and to the same degree.” (SC, 7) The Liturgy is the work of God, the action of Christ the priest who unites us to Himself in His sacrifice to the Father and thus brings about our redemption. It is in the Sacred Liturgy that we most fully encounter Jesus: crucified, died, risen from the dead and gloriously ascended into heaven.

The Church proceeds to speak of its desire for full, conscious and active participation in the Liturgy. This idea goes back to the beginnings of the Liturgical Movement in the late 19th century, and received official recognition from the Church in 1903 in Pius X's encyclical, Tra Le Solicitudine. Unfortunately many people have interpreted this in a way contrary to what the Church has said, by associating “full, active and conscious” participation with 'doing' something at Mass (Reader, Server, Usher, Extraordinary Minster of Holy Communion, etc...). However, the Council and the Popes since that time have repeatedly stated that to fully, consciously and actively participate means first and foremost to live a life in accordance with the Gospel so that when we are present at the Sacred Liturgy, we can enter into the true spirit of the liturgy by uniting our hearts with the prayers, songs, responses and gestures.

The Church then goes on to speak about the Holy Mass, the Divine Office (prayer-book of priests), the Liturgical Year, Sacred Art and Music. Of interest is the fact that Vatican II said, “The use of the Latin language is to be preserved in the Latin rites,” (SC, 36) while allowing for the vernacular in the parts of the Mass that pertain to the people (readings, homily, prayers of the faithful). The Council never mentions the priest facing the people, as opposed to the 2,000 year old tradition of the priest facing the east, where Christ will come again in glory, or the removal of altars and altar rails. These three things, the use of vernacular languages, the priest facing the people and the removal of altars and altar rails, are probably the most obvious differences in post-Conciliar liturgies, even though the Council never addressed two of them, and stated that Latin is to be retained in the Latin Rite of the Church; it added: “Nevertheless steps should be taken so that the faithful may also be able to say or to sing together in Latin those parts of the Ordinary of the Mass which pertain to them.” (SC, 54)

Obviously what the Second Vatican Council says about the Sacred Liturgy is much richer and more exhaustive than what I have written here, but it is my hope that this brief article will propel you to prayerfully read the actual text. It can be found at:
here.

When one opens the paper, unfortunately the ink speaks of war, killing, poverty, depression, hate, sin, etc... These are by no means new problems, but nevertheless, humanity must encounter and provide an answer to these evils. First we ask ourselves, "Why?" This is certainly one of the great themes of Blaise Pascal in his work, Pensées, where he clearly displays that man has deep and terrible problems and that he is miserable. If the story ended there, it would end in despair. John Paul II takes up this theme in his book Memory and Identity. The mystery of evil that we see so clearly in the world should trouble all of us. However, we know that there is a divine limit put on evil, namely mercy. This is our answer as Christians and the answer is open for all to see in the person of Jesus.

Often as Christians, we are tempted to see the problems that plague the world and assume with the rest of society that the answer lies solely in legislative laws enforced by the government or social programs, which count on and promote the generosity of others. These programs, as necessary and praiseworthy as they can be, almost always miss the fundamental truths that constitute man as man. It always seems to be a solution in the realm of action and doing, but perhaps we are overlooking the solution by seeing it as a problem of action and not a problem of being; that is, the existential and ontological problem that we find ourselves in as fallen, weak individuals who "do the evil that we don't want to do." (Romans 7:19)

Should we not search for the answer to these and various problems through the eyes of the Heavenly Father, who made all things through His Word? For, in the beginning God created man, male and female he created them and every creature that walks the earth. Because creation flows forth from and is moving towards God as its end, the answer to its problems must also refer back to God not only for their valid perspective, but also for their only definitive answer.

When attempting to counteract the plagues of war, violence and poverty, we normally resort to material and positive scientific solutions. If there is war looming, we increase our weapons supply, raise money and rally the nation in support. Violence, we install cameras, make parking lots better lit and increase the presence of law enforcement officials. Poverty, we increase world food production and start food drives.

None of these 'solutions' will ever completely solve the problems listed above. Man's fallen heart, which is so inclined towards evil and selfishness, is only healed and redeemed by the grace given in faith, which gives us the ability to overcome these weaknesses and vices. Wars are only macrocosms of the battle that begins in individual souls that are rejecting the commands of God by acting evilly against God and neighbor. These unsettled and split hearts give way to battles in families, then communities, then cities, and finally between countries. The ultimate and lasting solution to these problems is the sweet cleansing of souls in the blood of Christ, which enables us to love through sacrificing our wants and needs for the needs of others. Then will we be able to walk humbly and not look on our brother as a mere means to an end, but rather as a person to be loved for his own sake. Then will we be able to forgive and love our brother because God has forgiven and loved us first.

Let us see with the eyes of the Heavenly Father the answer to our problems, and there we will surely see the image of His only Son, Whom He sees in each of us, Our Lord Jesus Christ.

So… word on the street here in Rome is that Pope Benedict’s next encyclical letter is scheduled for release sometime before Christmas. Usually these things are pretty speculative—who knows what’s going on behind closed Vatican doors. But thankfully, I happen to be taking Latin classes from the very man responsible for reading and translating the letter into its official Latin form. Naturally, a few questions were essential on my part.

The title is likely going to be Spe Salvi (“Saved by Hope”), which will follow upon last year’s Deus Caritas Est (“God is Love”). Obviously, the pope’s theme seems to be centered on the theological virtues—faith, hope and love—so named ‘theological’ because their ultimate end or ‘object’ is God himself. The Holy Father’s encyclical on love offered us a whole lot to mull over and I can only imagine the same will be true for his letter on hope. Even though I’ve also heard that the upcoming document is somewhat “philosophical” in its nature, I’d urge you not to let that be a deterrent to your reading it. Pope Benedict is a brilliant theologian, not only in his knowledge of theology but in his approach and writing style; he makes the seemingly inaccessible as clear as day, even if that means we have to use a little more brain power than we’re used to… In the end, there are innumerable things we could be reading, from novels to newspapers—and especially things to enrich the depth of our university or independent study—but something by the Holy Father ought to take top priority for a serious Catholic. Once it comes out, you can bet there will be a few posts on the topic right here on the blog.

Although it’s not ‘official’ and will likely be somewhat postponed, trusted sources indicate that the release date on the encyclical manuscript is November 30th, also known as the feast of St. Andrew. Personally, I can’t think of a better day to do anything on!

If I could spend a few hours per day just walking around St. Peter's Basilica and showing people the visible signs of the Catholic faith, I would be the happiest person in the world. Unfortunately, I have class. But fortunately, I can spend some time on the weekends, like today, doing some 'improv' tour-guiding. Today was a great example of what amazing fruit the Lord sometimes issues forth on such occasions...

After Pope Benedict's regular Sunday Angelus in St. Peter's Square, I decided to go into the basilica for.. well, simply to walk around and talk to people (I find that's the best way to work on my Italian, as well as get some down-to-earth contact with non-seminary types). Anyway, in the cue line for the church I met up with a group of Canadian pilgrims, waiting to enter. We began talking and ultimately ended up walking in the doors at the same time. They wanted to see the tombs of the popes, below the main floor, and asked if I could show them. I was more than happy to help. We saw the tomb of John Paul II, and even got to sneak back (yes, 'sneak' is not an overstatement either) to the chapel behind the tomb of Peter, where you can see his actual bones. I was floored by how intensely this struck all four of them; they began crying and just simply stating how much of a difference this made for their entire pilgrimage, which included the Holy Land as well. We stayed for a few minutes, then ended our little side-pilgrimage with an Our Father for their intentions back in Canada.

On our way 'sneaking' out of the Clementine Chapel, we picked up a few (like nine) more Americans and all headed up to the main basilica for a walk around and, again, a little 'side trip' to some not-so-seen but amazing places to pray. (In Italy, it's all about who you know and how you ask... luckily the guards were feeling nice today!) Again, just allowing people to see and pray at some of the sites in St. Peter's was enough to instill tears in even the most seemingly skeptical of eyes. In short, it was incredible.

I am convinced that this is precisely the reason we are here, as seminarians, to study; not only do we learn theology, but the history of the Church and the saints, and also the very lives of the saints when we visit their tombs and show others the glory of their holiness. I hope that the Lord continues to sustain my fervor with opportunities like this. It really is a blessing to have the chance to be humbled so much by the greatness of God, who surpasses us all to an infinite degree!

This post follows closely on Andy's very well written post on the Ecumenical Councils and Vatican II.

About a month ago, I began to do a commentary on the Second Vatican Council's document on the Church. However recently, while searching the North American College's Library for books on the liturgy to supplement my class in the sacred liturgy, I encountered a commentary on the documents of the Second Vatican Council and one of the authors happened to be a certain Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger. It was at that point that I realized my desire to do commentaries of the documents of Vatican II on the blog was a bit, to say the least, over ambitious. I certainly will not have anything more to offer than the former prefect for the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith who acted as one of the periti (expert theologians) at the Council itself. That being said, I would like to begin doing small summaries of each of the 16 documents so people that haven't read the documents will have some idea of what they are, and then hopefully go on to read the documents themselves.

I hope you find these fruitfull and I will try to begin soon.

After citing the Second Vatican Council (i.e. ‘Vatican II’) in a few posts lately, I realized that I really hadn’t done much to outline what it means for something to be a ‘council’ of the Church. So, now I will.

Conveniently (for me), I am currently taking a Church history class as part of my theology studies, which happens to focus exclusively on the ecumenical councils of the Roman Catholic Church. The word “council” itself is synonymous with the Greek word, “synod”; both words have the same basic meaning—the gathering together of people. The word “ecumenical” also comes from Greek—“oikos,” meaning ‘house’—and refers to the nature of the gathered council, in that it is comprised of the entire world inhabited by the Church. In other words, an ecumenical council is a meeting with representatives from all the geographic regions of the Catholic Church.

The earliest ecumenical councils took place in the eastern part of the Roman Empire, gathering in Nicaea, Constantinople, Chalcedon and other cities. Overall, there are seven ecumenical councils recognized as such by both the Catholic and Orthodox Churches (which, before the Great Schism in 1054 AD, were simply one). The first and perhaps most notable of these was Nicaea I, which convened in 325 AD; from this council we get most of the ‘Nicaean Creed,’ which Catholics recite at Mass every Sunday and on feast days. The early council of Chalcedon, in 451 AD, provided much work on the person of Jesus Christ, clarifying much that was in doubt about his truly human and divine natures. The other five early ecumenical councils dealt with similarly important issues, but their content really isn’t important to this post…

Church councils continued up through the medieval age (e.g. Lateran I—V, Lyons, Vienne, Constance, etc.), culminating in the Council of Trent, in 1545 AD, which was perhaps the most memorable council to date. Trent was a response to the Protestant Reformation, and provided much doctrinal and disciplinary teaching regarding the reform and virtually everything else in the Catholic world. (It is worth noting that the Council of Trent officially invited any Protestant who wished to come and present his case of reform for consideration, although few ended up actually coming.) After the council, Pope Pius V codified his own version of the Missal—the book of how to say the Mass—and for the next 500 years the Church celebrated his ‘Tridentine’ (from ‘Trent’) Mass. [N.B. See my post on Summorum Pontificum for more on this.]

I could go on for a while, but that pretty much sums up the basic history of the councils of the Catholic Church. It is important to see the tradition that councils come from in order to see their intended goals and implementation later on in history. Particularly, Vatican II, which stems from this tradition, cannot be properly understood without a reference to many of the earlier Church councils. Hopefully, I’ll be able to post a little more on the recent councils (i.e. Trent, Vatican I & II), and provide an even more in-depth—but not boring—look at what all the hubbub concerning Vatican II is really about. Stay tuned…

[A good book on the councils is Fr. Norman Tanner’s, The Councils of the Church. It’s short, and a great book for absolute beginners…and he happens to be my teacher!]

One of the great mystics of the 20th century was the Swiss born Adrienne Von Speyr. As a young protestant child, she was filled with many gifts, such as joyfulness, splendid sense of humor, obedience, intelligence and the ability to suffer well, in gratefulness, the crosses the Good God placed in her life. She grew up to be a very successful doctor who was responsible for many miraculous cures among the 80 patients she accepted daily; she always accepted the poor at no price. In 1940 she converted to Catholicism with Hans Urs Von Balthasar as her guide and spiritual director.  Von Balthasar was one of the most prolific Catholic theologians of the last century whose works number more than a number.  He was named a Cardinal by John Paul II at the end of his life but died before the consistory in 1988.  Von Speyr went on to write over 60 volumes, and one of her dominant and great themes was "Marian Consent".

What does she mean by "Marian Consent"? It is the disposition of soul that entrusts every aspect of the person to God, in complete confidence even when understanding is lacking. ("How can this be, for I know not man?" Luke 1) It allows God to work in one's life by any means His good will deems fruitful for the salvation of souls. It is standing naked in the light of God's Truth in the humility that is free of all self satisfaction, seeking and sufficiency, thus making room in one's heart for the Divine Word, Christ. It is saying "Fiat!", be it done unto me according to your word!

Only in this posture can we enter into the riches of Trinitarian prayer, this "Marian Consent" allows Christ to enter and at the same time allows us to enter the great "Trinitarian conversation of love" (Jn 17). The saints prayer and indeed the beatific vision of God in heaven will be nothing less than man entering into the Trinitarian Prayer of self-emptying love between Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

May God grant us the grace to stand humbly in His presence, ready to forsake all to accomplish His holy will.

Liturgy captivates me. In a recent lecture at the Greg, I heard it described as the ‘prima teologia’—the first theology. When I thought about this, it really seemed quite true. Oftentimes ‘theology’ is consigned to the realms of universities and, particularly in my case, seminaries, as something to be taken up only by intellectuals and future-priests. Not so, I tell you…

On the contrary, theology is something accessible and necessary to us all, if we hope to grow in our relationship with our Creator. As the ‘first theology,’ the liturgy of the Holy Mass does much to help us understand the mysteries of the Catholic faith, all in a way that draws us closer to the mystery of our salvation: the Incarnate Son of God, Jesus Christ, present in every Mass for the last 2,000 years. Although the form of Mass we often experience nowadays is rather new (called the Novus Ordo in Latin, or the ‘new order’ of the Mass), the substance of the Mass is still the same; i.e. Jesus is still present in the Eucharist, and the same grace is provided by God to his Church. No matter the underlying substance of the Mass, though, the outer appearance or form still attracts most of the attention; as human beings, we are drawn by visible and audible beauty to the deeper beauty of the invisible God. For this reason, the fullness of the Church’s tradition of liturgy must be appreciated, since it all serves in appealing to the different senses and different states of humanity throughout history.

This reality was precisely the driving force behind Pope Benedict XVI’s (rather) recent document, entitled Summorum Pontificum. In this document, the Holy Father calls for the broader practice of the ‘old Mass,’ or the Tridentine Mass—that which was celebrated for the 500 years before Vatican II. In his writing, the pope specifically calls attention to the fact that the Tridentine Mass—which he calls the “extraordinary form” of the Mass—is still completely lawful and ought to be held in very high esteem in the eyes of the faithful. On the contrary, the Novus Ordo—which he denotes as the “ordinary form” of Mass—still remains the norm.

This ‘wedding’ of the two forms, so to speak, really draws much consideration to the idea of both forms being of one and the same substance; again, Jesus is truly and fully present in each. The Holy Father’s acclaim for the ‘extraordinary form’ of the Mass also brings to light the fact that there is still much beauty and goodness to be found in this older form. Although the liturgical reforms of Vatican II provided quite an extreme shift in liturgical styles, the older form of celebrating the Mass deserves much respect. With the wider use of the ‘extraordinary form’ of Mass allowed by Summorum Pontificum, we can also expect have many more chances to pray at this Mass and appreciate its beauty first-hand. I would recommend anyone who has never been to a Tridentine Mass to try and go; it will be a memorable experience and—with a heart open to the Holy Spirit—hopefully a prayerful and beautiful one as well.

I was reading another blog yesterday when an interesting topic struck me, namely ‘youth groups’ and ‘youth rallies.’ The other blogger’s take on this phenomenon—which I’m not even really sure you could condense into one particular and distinguishable phenomenon—was that youth programs were at the heart of corrupting authentic Catholic teaching/living. He took the approach that all the youth events he had been to were poorly conducted and only driven by an emotional undercurrent, which after climaxing in the event (i.e. singing, enthusiastic prayer, etc.) left the kids without any real and substantial relationship with God. While I do not agree with his wholesale regard of youth programs as decadent, I do believe he makes an interesting point worthy of further discussion.

First, I’ll pose this question: What are we truly trying to accomplish by catechizing our youth? Perhaps better, what is the ultimate goal of any Catholic youth program? The obvious answer is, “Providing them with a deeper relationship with Jesus Christ.” To this I would ask a second question: What, then, is the role of the youth minister/catechist in all this? The not so obvious—but altogether necessary—answer to this is: “To teach kids about the truths of the Catholic faith…while at the same time diminishing in their own presence so that the presence of Christ can increase.” Alas, here we find the source of great misunderstanding.

While trying not to be overly biased, I will say that in my experience of youth ministry, the most noticeable figure being encountered by young Catholics has not been Jesus Christ; on the contrary, it has been the youth ministers. (This is not meant as a diatribe against youth ministers, but rather food for some provoking thought.) The same tendency of human nature—to bolster one’s own persona in place of Christ’s—is present throughout the Church, however I think it manifests itself particularly and perhaps most dangerously in the realm of youth ministry. Where the soil is most fertile is precisely where we must do the most to ensure it is seeded with virtuous example.

If I have not been clear enough yet regarding what I intend to say, some concrete examples will surely help. Reverting to the blog post that prompted all this, I must say that most examples given by the author concerning ‘youth rallies’ fall into this category; in other words, how often do we see youth events that are more of a concert instead of an encounter with Christ? Are youth ministers really seeking to show the Incarnate Son, or their own inflexible ideas of what Jesus would look like if he were with us now? How often do we forget that the Logos—the Word of God himself—who is totally capable of expressing himself par excellence, is very much with us in the Blessed Sacrament, waiting to draw us into his self-revelation? If there is a base in the claim that ‘youth rally highs’ leave kids feeling empty afterward, we need look no further than the fact that we often neglect feeding them the “true food” that never fails to satisfy.

On a final note, it is not enough simply to put people in the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist; while this is efficacious and valuable in itself, if we continue to impose our own designs over and above the designs of God—for example, never allowing Christ to speak himself, but rather drowning out the silence he sometimes uses with our own formulation of relentless noise, music, etc.—how can we expect him to make a real impact? In God’s infinite and mysterious plan, he allows us to become helpers to one another in the ultimate salvation of the world. With this in mind, we ought not to underestimate the vast responsibility that faces us when showing our youth the way to Christ. “He must increase,” as St. John the Baptist testifies, “but I must decrease.” (Jn 3:30)

The second question concerning priestly ordination that often comes up is: “Why aren’t Roman Catholic priests allowed to get married?” Following the order of last week’s post, a look to the official teaching of the Church—statements and decrees issued by the Holy See—ought to prove most helpful.

The best place to begin is probably Pope Paul VI’s encyclical letter, Sacerdotalis Caelibatus, which states: “Amid the modern stirrings of opinion, a tendency has also been manifested, and even a desire expressed, to ask the Church to re-examine this characteristic institution [of priestly celibacy]. It is said that in the world of our time the observance of celibacy has come to be difficult or even impossible.” (SC, 1) Certainly, we can all sympathize with this mindset; from the secular perspective, priestly celibacy makes no sense! In fact it is this very attitude, admitted by the Holy Father in 1967, which spurs most people to pose the question we’re discussing in the first place.

Nevertheless, the Church was not discouraged by the proposition to reconsider its tradition of celibacy in the priesthood. Instead, this question gave an occasion of catechesis that still speaks volumes even today. “The Christian priesthood…can be understood only in the light of the newness of Christ, the Supreme Pontiff and eternal Priest, who instituted the priesthood of the ministry as a real participation in His own unique priesthood… Wholly in accord with this mission, Christ remained throughout His whole life in the state of celibacy, which signified His total dedication to the service of God and men. This deep concern between celibacy and the priesthood of Christ is reflected in those whose fortune it is to share in the dignity and mission of the Mediator and eternal Priest; this sharing will be more perfect the freer the sacred minister is from the bonds of flesh and blood.” (SC, 19, 21)

Far from demeaning the significance of marriage, the celibate priesthood of the Roman Catholic Church finds its very fulfillment in the wedding of Christ—as whose person the priest acts—with his Church; the nuptial joining of the Divine Bridegroom with his immaculate Bride. Celibacy points toward the “heavenly homeland, where the divine sonship of the redeemed will be fully revealed and where the transformed loveliness of the Spouse of the Lamb of God will shine completely.” (SC, 33)

All of this hints at perhaps the most profound meaning of celibacy: the eschatological meaning. “Our Lord and Master has said, that ‘in the resurrection they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven.’ In the world of man, so deeply involved in earthly concerns and too often enslaved by the desires of the flesh, the precious and almost divine gift of perfect continence [i.e. celibacy] for the kingdom of heaven stands out precisely as ‘a special token of the rewards of heaven’; it proclaims the presence on earth of the final stages of salvation with the arrival of a new world, and in a way it anticipates the fulfillment of the kingdom as it sets forth its supreme values which will one day shine forth in all the children of God.” (SC, 34)

Sorry for the delay in posting. I really appreciate all the readership and I shouldn't go so long without putting something up. Unfortunately, sinus infections have a way of bringing your body and mind to a screeching halt. So, I promise something a little more substantial (like part 2 of the 'ordination questions' thread) tomorrow. Buona Domenica!

More and more lately I’ve been involved in conversations—both amongst seminarians and with others, as well—about the topic of priestly ordination. Perhaps it’s just that when people see a seminarian, they immediately think ‘priest,’ and thus the topic arises. If so, that’s great! That is precisely the reason that seminarians here in Rome wear the white collar in public: to provide a witness to our faith and of our desire for ordination.

Although it would be nice, I must say that not all the conversations I have regarding Catholic ordination are pleasant ones; alongside the devout faithful are the devoutly unfaithful, with whom I enjoy talking just as much, if not more. Inevitably, two topics of discussion arise with almost anyone—faithful or not—concerning the priesthood: 1) Why are only men allowed to be ordained Catholic priests? 2) Why aren’t Roman Catholic priests allowed to get married? Both of these are excellent questions, especially in a modern culture that finds no apparent value in either of these Church doctrines. I would do a disservice in trying to fully treat these vast questions here, but perhaps a brief post on each will serve to flesh out the basics of what the Roman Catholic Church really teaches. I’m not sure which order would be more appropriate, but we’ll try it this way…

“Why are only men allowed to be ordained Catholic priests?”

The Catholic Church, as established by Christ upon the 'Rock' of St. Peter, seeks only to interpret the intentions of its Divine Founder and implement them in practice throughout the ages of history. The ordination of men to the priesthood is simply one of the many teachings the Church has put forth by way of this immense task. Although we today are trained to view such things as discriminatory or oppressive, the intention is quite the opposite: namely, to uphold the dignity proper to both men and women in Christ's plan of salvation.

The Church has only ever been able to confer priestly ordination on men since the very beginning of its existence. “[The Church] holds that it is not admissible to ordain women to the priesthood for very fundamental reasons,” writes Pope Paul VI. “These reasons include: the example recorded in the Sacred Scriptures of Christ choosing his Apostles only from among men; the constant practice of the Church, which has imitated Christ in choosing only men; and her living, teaching authority which has consistently held that the exclusion of women from the priesthood is in accordance with God’s plan for his Church.” (Letter to Archbishop of Canterbury, 1975) In other words, Catholic tradition—out of which arose Sacred Scripture and all the practices of the Church today—has always reserved priestly ordination to men alone. “[I]n giving the Church her fundamental constitution, her theological anthropology—thereafter always followed by the Church’s Tradition—Christ established things in this way.” (Paul VI, Address on the Role of Women in the Plan of Salvation, 1977)

Pope John Paul II continued the discussion in his letter, Mulieris Dignitatem (“The Dignity of Women”): “In calling only men as his Apostles, Christ acted in a completely free and sovereign manner. In doing so, he exercised the same freedom with which, in all his behavior, he emphasized the dignity and the vocation of women, without conforming to the prevailing customs and to the traditions sanctioned by the legislation of the time.” (MD, 26) “Furthermore, the fact that the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God and Mother of the Church, received neither the mission proper to the Apostles nor the ministerial priesthood clearly shows that the non-admission of women to priestly ordination cannot mean that women are of lesser dignity, nor can it be construed as discrimination against them. Rather, it is to be seen as the faithful observance of a plan to be ascribed to the wisdom of the Lord of the universe.” (John Paul II, Ordinatio Sacerdotalis, 3)

I must admit… one thing that I do enjoy is dislodging popular clichés. The most recent to rouse my attention: “I try not to judge people / Don’t judge me / You can’t judge another person, only God can do that.” There seems to be an overarching—and mostly misunderstood—theme behind all of these, which makes them all increasingly prevalent in our colloquial speech today. Although I could certainly say a lot about each of them, I’ll try to keep it focused.

In reality, all of these statements are true—if taken in terms of their linguistic composition. In other words, it is true that we ought not judge other people, that others ought not judge us, and that you really cannot judge other people. However, the meaning in human conversation is deeper than the definitions of words; the sense of what is being conveyed can be quite different than what is actually being said. Therein lies the issue.

Typically—if my social skills are rightly honed—when someone blurts out, “I don’t judge people,” it’s usually followed by something like, “as long as they don’t hurt me, I don’t care what they do,” or, “we’re all free to do what we like.” You will notice that the focus shifts, seemingly without explanation, from judging a person to judging an action; “I don’t judge people because I won’t judge their actions.” This mentality is not only flawed in terms of logical value, but is particularly dangerous to both the person “not judging” and the person “not being judged.”

As human beings, we function primarily by way of our intellect; our rational capacity discerns what is good or bad, and we thereby determine what to do in certain situations. In short, if we choose not to view the good or bad around us, we essentially betray what it means to be human, and are therefore stunted in growing and acting with prudence and wisdom. However, if we choose to accept the reality of choice (strangely enough, something stressed very much by these same ones who “don’t judge actions”), we must in some way judge the actions of those around us and, likewise, ourselves.

Judging another person’s acts does not equal judging the other person’s soul or intentions; God alone can do this. However, in creating us as rational beings, God expects that we should judge actions so that we can verify the truth and beauty he has given us in his infinite goodness. In Catholic terms, we might say: “Condemn the sin, not the sinner.” By this principle, we are perfectly justified in judging another’s acts, so long as we do not presume to judge his or her soul, which is reserved to God alone. The challenge, then, is staying within the bounds of just judgment, while at the same time not abandoning judgment altogether.

Perhaps some of you are aware of the most current task being taken on by the English-speaking bishops of the Roman Catholic Church. This undertaking, namely the retranslation of the Missal (i.e. parts of the Mass) from the original Latin into English, is finally nearing completion. Headed by the International Commission on English in the Liturgy (ICEL), the responsibility of translating such a massive amount of text has been a daunting one. However, after nearly five years of work, the end is in sight and hopefully, English-speaking Catholics around the world should be rejoicing; the new translation from the Latin will render the sacred and ancient prayers of the Mass much more faithfully to the tradition of the Church, replacing some of the ‘sloppy’ prayers we have now with more profoundly meaningful ones. Here are a few examples…

Latin: Dominus vobiscum. R. Et cum spiritu tuo.

Actual Translation: “The Lord be with you. R. And with your spirit.”

Current Translation: “The Lord be with you. R. And also with you.”

Clearly, there is a divergence from the Latin text now that isn’t necessary; the prayer is intended to express a profound wish of God’s presence in the innermost recesses of the human person, not simply his presence “with you.” Another example would be the prayer just before communion, said by the faithful…

Latin: Domine, non sum dignus ut entres sub tectum meum, sed tantum dic verbo et sanabitur anima mea.

Actual Translation: “O Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be made well.”

Current Translation: “O Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.”

Again, the profundity—although easily overlooked at first glance—is much more clearly expressed in the Latin text; there is a sense personal relationship with Jesus that is not expressed in the current English translation. In fact, this prayer is the one uttered by the centurion in the Gospel, who was ashamed to have Christ himself enter his house to cure his servant. In its original form, it expresses something much more meaningful than simply “receiving” Jesus, but rather welcoming him into the house of our very body in the Eucharist.

This small sample is only a glimpse at the huge project that we await with great hope. The work of ICEL has been to make note of these important distinctions of the Latin text and transfer them—as seamlessly as possible, but with strict regard to their magnitude—into English. Thus, Catholics around the world should be glad to know that the sacred prayer of the Mass will soon be dignified by even more beautiful language, which will enable us to enter into the age-old prayer of the Church more fully and completely than in the recent past.

The last couple of days—All Saints Day on November 1st and All Souls Day on the 2nd—have been a great chance to reflect a little on a popular question: “What is the meaning of life?” (Yes, I can already hear the laughter…) But really, I think the lives of the saints and those who may not be saints really provide a lot of clarity in this area.

It’s a scary thing to admit, but according to the Catholic faith we are all called to be saints; I know I’ve mentioned this before, perhaps quite often, but it’s been a reoccurring thought in my mind and one I think is worth posting. When you say it out loud—“I am called to be a saint”—and think about it seriously, it almost sounds silly. We all know our sins and weaknesses, particularly those sins that are glaring and seem insurmountable, which we think are directly hindering our growth in holiness. The fact is that… well, we are right: by ourselves we are hopelessly drowning in our sinfulness.

However, like anything Catholic, there is another side.

A good priest once told me that I should “learn to fall in love” with my sins, since it would be through them that God chooses to save me. It’s quite a bold statement, but after I thought about it a little, it really made sense. If there were no sin in my life—particularly if there were no sins that made me cringe every time I thought of them—would I ever find it necessary to approach the Lord? If I were perfectly behaved and well disposed, what need would I have for God? This is not to say that we should intentionally sin, or even concede to it at all; it simply means that we should acknowledge our failings as an opportunity to encounter Jesus and experience his vast mercy. The Gospel reading from Mass on the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (celebrated this year on October 28th) speaks beautifully on this topic. Jesus tells the parable:

“Two people went up to the temple area to pray; one was a Pharisee and the other was a tax collector. 
The Pharisee took up his position and spoke this prayer to himself,
‘O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity—greedy, dishonest, adulterous—or even like this tax collector. 
I fast twice a week, and I pay tithes on my whole income.’
But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed,
‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’
I tell you, the latter went home justified, not the former.”

Clearly the Pharisee, who supposed his own holiness (and perhaps was a very good man), was totally uninterested in God; it even says that he “spoke [his] prayer to himself.” On the other hand, the tax collector—probably a dishonest and sly man—admitted his guilt and simply begged to God for his mercy; he “would not even raise his eyes to heaven.” The tax collector went away justified. The tax collector “fell in love” with his sin because he realized it was there that the Father would encounter him and make him worthy of heaven. This man wanted to be a saint—and what’s more, he knew that he could be if he only let the Lord transform him.

One year ago this month, Pope Benedict XVI sparked an uproar when he quoted the fourteenth century Byzantine Emperor, Manuel II Paleologus, concerning Islam, in an address on faith and reason. Unfortunately, the Popes citation of this emperor was quoted in the secular media and not put in its proper context, which thus lead to a flurry of misunderstanding.

Although the address is not specifically related to the relationship between Christians and Muslims, the reaction from the Muslim world should cause us, as Catholics, to pause and try to understand this relationship at a more profound level.

Let us begin by taking the Second Vatican Council as a compass for the remainder of this small post. First, Vatican II, put forth Christ, as we receive Him in and through His Church, with the following words: “First, the council professes its belief that God Himself has made known to mankind the way in which men are to serve Him, and thus be saved in Christ and come to blessedness. We believe that this one true religion subsists in the Catholic and Apostolic Church, to which the Lord Jesus committed the duty of spreading it abroad among all men.” (Dignitatis Humanae) Vatican II thus claims that the “one true religion, subsists in the Catholic and Apostolic Church...”

While on the one hand firmly stating it's own identity, the Church then turns to the common ground shared between itself and other religions basing itself on the following words of the Apostles Peter and Paul concerning our relationship with them: “... maintain good fellowship among the nations" (1 Peter 2:12), and, if possible, to live for their part in peace with all men, so that they may truly be sons of the Father who is in heaven.” (Nostra Aetate)

In this light, of living in peace with all men, the Council turns its eye to the Muslim people and examines what we hold in common with them. “The Church regards with esteem also the Muslims. They adore the one God, living and subsisting in Himself; merciful and all- powerful, the Creator of heaven and earth... Further, they await the day of judgment and the reward of God following the resurrection of the dead. Finally, they value the moral life and worship God especially through prayer, almsgiving and fasting.”

The Church and the Pope therefore hold in esteem the Muslim people, while at the same time they desire to engage in dialogue concerning the similarities and differences among us. We desire to present Jesus Christ and we respectfully listen with love to what they are presenting to us. One-hundred-and-thirty-eight Muslim scholars from all over the world just sent an open letter to the Holy Father concerning the commonality we share in the two great commandments of love for God and love for neighbor. Let us pray for the Holy Father that he may continue to challenge those who are not Catholic to look seriously at our Lord and God, Jesus Christ, so that we may continue to have fruitful dialogue with all men.

In the Catholic tradition, much value is placed on the lives of the martyrs. We all hear stories about the martyrs—specifically in recent days about the 498 martyrs of the Spanish Civil War beatified last Sunday in the Vatican—but what does it mean to be a martyr? Etymologically, the word in Greek, «martyros», means “a witness.” Obviously, this is quite a broad definition and the way modern language uses the word is usually much more specific; however, this basic significance is the root of all other uses of the word.

In the normal, Catholic sense, a ‘martyr’ is a person who dies for one’s faith in Jesus Christ. Simply put, shedding blood for the faith is nothing more than the purest form of ‘witnessing’ to the faith. Certainly, though, not all of us are faced with the threat—or better the opportunity—to give our very life for Christ in such a manner; “not everyone is called to face a cruel martyrdom,” said Pope Benedict XVI on Sunday. However, in reality, as Christians abiding loyally to the faith we profess, we are all called to be prepared to be martyrs in some way—whether it be in blood or in some other sacrifice. “Martyrdom is not an exception reserved only to a few individuals,” said the Holy Father, “but a realistic eventuality for the whole Christian people… Those who have given the supreme witness of their blood have been men and women, young and old, from all walks of life and every position of social standing.”

The pope went on to describe the life of faith as “a peaceful battle of love that every Christian, like St. Paul, must wage tirelessly. It is the race to spread the Gospel to which we are committed even unto death.” To me, this seems like a claim with a very counter-cultural and counter-intuitive message. At first it seems a bit passive—a “peaceful battle” doesn’t exactly incite much zeal by itself. However, a peaceful “battle of love” provokes a much different response; it elicits the necessity for self-emptying and self-giving, “even unto death.” It is not too much to say that, as Catholics, we should be willing to empty ourselves even of our own blood, if the Lord so desires. This ‘witness’ to others of the veracity of the Church’s faith perfectly brings about a vision of Christ as the divine Savior, who has overcome death itself. It has long been taught that the “blood of the martyrs is the seed of faith.” This is the “universal vocation to holiness” to which we are all called and this, I think, quite effectively sums up what it means to be a martyr.