Amnesty International & Domestic Politics

John Waters in today's Irish Times turns his attention to Colm O'Gorman's recent comments about the proposed civil partnership bill, and in particular the position of Amnesty International in the debate. Now, I was wondering whether his remarks were made in his capacity as Amnesty International's executive director or in a private capacity. I guess its coverage on the Amnesty Website resolves that to some extent.
I recall Amnesty visiting our school when I was 11 or 12. I think I unnerved the visitor somewhat by asking whether their defence of human rights included protection for the unborn child. She explained that they stayed out of that debate - and in retrospect, one can understand why an organisation concerned with representing prisoners of conscience might steer clear of such a disputed and divisive issue in order to focus on their core mission. However, in recent times, Amnesty has dropped its neutrality on the issue of abortion.
(By the by, I should hope that it's obvious to readers involved in education that Amnesty should no longer be welcome in our Catholic schools.)
John Waters notes that Colm O'Gorman's statement on civil partnerships also represents a shift away from what used to be Amnesty's priorities:

WITHOUT ANYONE emphasising or questioning the shift, Amnesty International has gone in recent years from being an organisation devoted to the rights of prisoners-of-conscience in foreign jurisdictions to a lobby group concentrating selectively on ideological issues within the immediate jurisdictions in which it operates. I often wonder what its founders would have thought about this. I wonder, too, if people who stuff cash into the boxes of Amnesty’s street collectors are aware of the implications of what has occurred.
Twenty years ago, the idea of Amnesty lecturing the Irish Government in partisan terms on a matter on which there is democratic controversy would have been inconceivable. The old-style Amnesty considered human rights too vital to be mixed up with everyday political argumentation within democratic societies.

What's also interesting is that Waters valiantly attempts to point out how O'Gorman and other gay rights activist try to (and in general succeed) to change the meaning of the concepts used in our national discourse in order to muddy the issue and demonise those who promote a traditional understanding of marriage and the family:

O’Gorman’s statement was laden with disingenuous constructions and weasel words. Amnesty is either arguing for gay marriage or it isn’t, but can’t have it both ways. The Bill does not discriminate against gay couples any more than unmarried heterosexual couples can claim to be “discriminated against” for similar reasons. In not dealing with the adoption of children at all, the legislation might be said to discriminate, in accordance with public policy, against both categories by comparison with married couples, but this is a false comparison. And nor does the legislation discriminate against adopted children being brought up in gay unions any more than against adopted children being brought up by unmarried parents who are not gay. It does not deal with adoption at all. O’Gorman’s reference to “the right not to be discriminated against because of who you love” is a piety designed to fudge the issue and bully the public.
[snip]
The gay lobby has made its case by mangling the meaning of terms such as “marriage” and “discrimination”, and by bullying with accusations of “homophobia” and “bigotry” anyone who refuses to acquiesce in the new definitions.

Of course, the question should be about what is meant by marriage and why it's an institution worthy of legal recognition.

Marriage, a contract between a man and a woman, is an institution maintained by society for reasons having little or nothing to do with “love”. All men and all women have a right to marry, provided they wish to marry members of the opposite sex to whom they are not closely related by blood. Heterosexuals, like homosexuals, are prohibited from marrying people of their own sex. It is no more valid to allege wrongful discrimination in this context against gays than to argue that cycle lanes “discriminate” wrongfully against wheelbarrows.

Now, that statement needs a lot of unpacking, and it probably says a lot about the quality of catechesis in Ireland that not many of the decision makers in our society are willing or capable of doing this.

Holy Communion Services without a Priest

One of the vexing questions facing us here in Ireland is how we should cope with the increasingly severe shortage of priests. Of course, relative to much of the world, there's still an abundance of priests in Ireland - and maybe the past has spoiled us in terms of our expectations, but what is clear is that many Irish parishes will be losing priests at a very rapid rate over the next few years.
One consequence of this is that communities will find the number of Masses celebrated on weekdays and on Sundays cut back. Should these simply be dropped or should they be replaced by lay- or deacon-led services? If they are replaced, what form should these services take and should they include distribution of Holy Communion?

There's been a lot of muddled thinking about this issue, and I think that there are a number of points which should be made clear. Firstly, the absence of the celebration of Mass in one's local church doesn't necessarily dispense one from one's serious obligation to attend Mass on a Sunday or Holyday of Obligation. If one can travel to another nearby church for Mass, one should, and it would be a very worthwhile thing for people to assist their elderly neighbours and all others who have difficulty making it to Mass. Consequently, we should be extremely cautious about replacing our Sunday Masses with other forms of service when it is practicable for the faithful to travel to nearby churches. Redemptionis Sacramentum is very clear that this is the preferred way of dealing with this situation:

Therefore when it is difficult to have the celebration of Mass on a Sunday in a parish church or in another community of Christ’s faithful, the diocesan Bishop together with his Priests should consider appropriate remedies. Among such solutions will be that other Priests be called upon for this purpose, or that the faithful transfer to a church in a nearby place so as to participate in the Eucharistic mystery there.

However, circumstances may arise where Sunday celebrations in the absence of a priest may be appropriate. It should be noted that the distribution of Holy Communion need not be part of such a celebration. Obviously one would have to take into account how long the community would be deprived of Holy Communion in such a case.
It's worth noting that the guidance of Redemptionis Sacramentum very much frowns on weekday services where Holy Communion is distributed outside the context of the Mass:

Likewise, especially if Holy Communion is distributed during such celebrations, the diocesan Bishop, to whose exclusive competence this matter pertains, must not easily grant permission for such celebrations to be held on weekdays, especially in places where it was possible or would be possible to have the celebration of Mass on the preceding or the following Sunday.

I note that there has been a certain amount of press coverage given to a priest who, whilst on holidays, arranged for a lay-led service with the distribution of Holy Communion. That would seem to be contrary to the liturgical guidelines, and in my opinion, a bad idea.

One of the sad things one encounters pastorally is the lack of understanding of the Holy Mass. The separation of the distribution of Holy Communion from the Mass inevitably increases this confusion. Anecdotally, I've heard of situations on the Continent where parish communities have refused the offer of holidaying priests to celebrate a Sunday Mass for them because they like the 'Mass' (sic) celebrated by their local lay pastoral worker. To my mind, it's incredibly sad that a community deprived of the Mass due to a shortage of priests would refuse the opportunity to participate in the Eucharist when it is offered to them. The personality of the lay pastoral worker or the community's own self-regard has displaced Christ as the focus of their worship.

One of the central advances in liturgical and sacramental theology of the past century or so is the re-connection of the participation in the Mass with the reception of Holy Communion. It might surprise modern readers to learn that until the early 20th century Masses were frequently celebrated without the distribution of communion to the lay faithful, and the reception of communion often happened in a ceremony separate from the Mass. One of my professors in Rome told me of a convent which had the following custom on the eve of the Second Vatican Council. The nuns would receive Holy Communion outside the context of the Mass, and then attend Mass as their thanksgiving for Holy Communion. This, of course, ran totally contrary to the teaching of the Popes from St Pius X onwards who encouraged frequent communion in the context of attending and participating in the Mass.
Now it seems we have another problem - people equate going to Mass with the right to receive Holy Communion. It's becoming increasingly difficult to explain to people why they might attend Mass when they are not in a situation where they could receive Holy Communion. The celebration of the Mass seems to have become subordinated to the reception of communion. Divorcing the distribution of Communion from the Mass would only increase this confusion.
I was recently re-reading Dom Ansgar Vonier's 1925 classic A Key to the Doctrine of the Eucharist and found that the following passage inadvertently prescient:

There ought not to be in classical Christianity a real division of spiritual attitude between Mass and Communion. Suppose per impossible, that there were an extreme multiplicity of private communions by the faithful on the one hand, and an ever-dwindling attendance at the sacrifice of the Mass on the other hand, it would indeed be the gravest spiritual disorder; it would falsify the Eucharistic setting; it would lower the sacrament through a misconception of its true role.

Caritas in Veritate - New Papal Encyclical

Just a reminder that the Pope's new encyclical letter Caritas in Veritate (Charity in Truth) has been published.
It seems quite dense and deals with "integral human development in charity and truth."

Maynooth Open Day

I'm delighted to see that there was a decent turn out at Sunday's open day at the seminary in Maynooth.

About 80 men aged between 20 and 35 attended the Open Day at Maynooth last Sunday, Vocations Sunday.

The initiative which marked the close of the Year of Vocation, was the first of its kind for St Patrick’s College, and organisers were surprised and impressed at the numbers of young men who showed up to get an insight into what life is like in the seminary and as a priest.

The idea for the day, came from the seminarians, who were all present for the event.

After talks by the President of Maynooth, Mgr Hugh Connolly, and other members of the formation team on the four foundations of formation: spiritual, intellectual, pastoral and human, four seminarians from different diocese shared the stories of their own calls to the priesthood. The four are all at different stages of their training – from second year to already being a deacon.

The Priest's Wife...

When I was in seminary, we jokingly referred to the breviary as 'the wife'. I was bemused to learn that Don Marco finds a similar description in the Dialogue of St Catherine of Siena.

The bride they hold ought to be the breviary, and the books of Holy Scripture their children. There they should take their pleasure in sharing instruction with their neighbors and in finding a holy life for themselves.

--The Eternal Father to Saint Catherine of Siena, The Dialogue

Secundum Scripturas

An American friend sent me this link. Sandro Magister writes:

ROME, May 1, 2009 – In a few days, the daily "la Repubblica" and the weekly "L'espresso" will offer to the Italian public, in hundreds of thousands of copies and at a reasonable price, the entire Christian Bible, in a new translation edited by the bishops' conference (CEI), accompanied by extensive notes and illustrated with artistic masterpieces from all time periods.
The work will be published in three volumes: the first with the Pentateuch and the historical books; the second with the wisdom books and the prophets; the third with the Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, the letters, and Revelation.
The initiative is all the more unusual in that "la Repubblica" and "L'espresso" are the leading publications for secular opinion in Italy, and are often critical of the Catholic Church and the Christian faith itself.

Can you imagine anything like that happening in Ireland?

Even more interesting is the article in L'Espresso which accompanies this project. It reads in part:

But be careful, the Christian Bible can punish those who venture into it blindly. It is an extremely special book, or rather collection of books, seventy-three in all, produced over a thousand years and divided into two major collections, the Old and the New Testament. These absolutely cannot be separated, at the cost of understanding nothing. The Mass shows why this is. The Gospel is never read without a prior reading from the Old Testament, which anticipates it "in allegory." Jesus is incomprehensible without the prophets. If he is risen from the dead, as the Gospels attest and the "Credo" proclaims, this took place "according to the Scriptures." If blood and water gush from the pierced side of Jesus, It is impossible not to think of the second chapter of Genesis, and the sleeping Adam from whose side God takes Eve, the mother of the living. The cross is the new tree of life of paradise, like the magnificent cross in bloom in the mosaic in the Roman basilica of Saint Clement. It is the fountainhead of the Church, it is the beginning of the new creation.
One should begin by reading Genesis in the Old Testament. It should come as no surprise that there are not one but two accounts of creation, one after the other and very different in style and content. The Bible does not intend to say how the world came about, but why. And also why, in a world that is indeed blessed by God as "good," so much evil should be unleashed, not by destiny but according to free and voluntary choice, disrupting both man and nature. From Cain to Lamech, from the Tower of Babel to the flood, wickedness invades the earth. But there is Noah the just man, in the ark that is saved from the waters. Then there is the calling of another just man, Abraham. And there is also justice beyond the chosen people, in a mysterious Melchizedek, "without father, without mother, without genealogy," as the author of the letter to the Hebrews would write in the New Testament. And there is God who visits Abraham in the person of the three anonymous guests whom Rublev, in the 15th century, would depict as an icon of the Trinity. And again, God who fights with Jacob on the shore of the river Jabbok. God? The Bible doesn't say so. It hints at it. Maybe.
In this, the Bible is truly extremely modern. It never says everything. On the contrary, it requires the reader to enter into the plot and decide. "The divine words grow with him who reads them," Pope Gregory the Great said in a homily on the prophet Ezekiel. It is as if the Scriptures were sleeping, before the reader came to wake them up. They were written this way, full of enigmas, ellipses, narrative leaps, obscurity. Rabbinical exegesis has always been this way: the "midrash" is an inexhaustible accumulation of readings and re-readings, reconstructions and reinterpretations, reality and vision. A painting by Chagall illustrates this perfectly. And the Christian liturgy is the same way: there, the Word of God is not a bookish reading, but becomes a living reality in the sacramental symbols. The Word of God takes on body and blood.

Jaroslav Pelikan & the Masai Creed

I was listening to an interview with the late scholar Jaroslav Pelikan on 'The Need for Creeds' and he made reference to a statement of faith drawn up by the Masai people of East Africa and the Holy Ghost Fathers in about 1960. Pelikan picked it out as being a fine example of a re-statement of Christian dogma in the particular language and concepts of a culture.

We believe in the one High God, who out of love created the beautiful world and everything good in it. He created man and wanted man to be happy in the world. God loves the world and every nation and tribe on the earth. We have known this High God in the darkness, and now we know him in the light. God promised in the book of his word, the Bible, that he would save the world and all nations and tribes.

We believe that God made good his promise by sending his son, Jesus Christ, a man in the flesh, a Jew by tribe, born poor in a little village, who left his home and was always on safari doing good, curing people by the power of God, teaching about God and man, showing that the meaning of religion is love. He was rejected by his people, tortured and nailed hands and feet to a cross, and died. He was buried in the grave, but the hyenas did not touch him, and on the third day, he rose from that grave. He ascended to the skies. He is the Lord.

We believe that all our sins are forgiven through him. All who have faith in him must be sorry for their sins, be baptized in the Holy Spirit of God, live the rules of love, and share the bread together in love, to announce the good news to others until Jesus comes again. We are waiting for him. He is alive. He lives. This we believe. Amen.

Quite a number of aspects of this creed are striking. It begins with a bit of a surprise - not being composed in the context of Trinitarian controversy, the drafters didn't seem to deem it necessary to begin with a statement of the Fatherhood of God. Likewise, the eternal generation of the Son and the Lordship of the Holy Spirit aren't mentioned - not because of any squishy theology I would imagine, but rather because the focus isn't on disputed points of Trinitatian Dogma. (I would point to the strong affirmation of the need for penitence near the end of the creed as being evidence that we're not dealing with watered-down Christianity here.)
Pelikan was much taken by the idea of Christ always on safari doing good - a most lovely way of saying that Our Lord had no where to lay his head. Indeed, the emphasis on the life and ministry of Christ sets this apart from the more ancient creeds of Christendom. We normally jump from the Incarnation to the Crucifixion in those creeds which focus on re-affirming disputed points of doctrine. However, if one is coming up with a statement of the Christian faith in a non-polemic context, expressing what it is that is important about the life of the Christian, one can't simply pass over the life of Christ.
The description of what happened to Christ after his burial also has an interesting contemporary resonance. He was buried in the grave, but the hyenas did not touch him... One is inclined to grin - there's a certain poetry in putting it that way, and perhaps it's a little quaint, but it makes the point. The grave did not claim Him. He did not decay like other men and when you have the likes of John Dominic Crossan claiming that Christ was left in a shallow grave to be devoured by wild dogs and crows, there's a definite pertinence in affirming that on the contrary, the hyenas did not touch Him.
There's more which could be said about this creed - one could come up with several lacunae, but it's sincere and thought-provoking, and it's little surprise that Pelikan picked it out as something special.

Incidentally, it wasn't only the Masai who have come up with 'updated' Creeds. Paul VI's Credo of the People of God is a much neglected statement of the Catholic Faith.