Sponsa Christi

Feast of St. Agnes 2012

2012-01-21T18:02:00.000-05:00

Here are some beautiful thoughts from our Holy Father on perhaps the most notable consecrated-virgin saint, St. Agnes of Rome. Interestingly, they were made in the context of an address to diocesan seminarians—read the whole address here.

Emphases and comments are mine.

***

St. Agnes is one of the famous Roman maidens, who illustrated the genuine beauty of faith in Christ and friendship with Him. Her dual status as Virgin and Martyr reflect the fullness of holiness’s dimensions. This is a fullness of holiness that is requested also of you by your Christian faith and the special priestly vocation with which the Lord has called you and binds you to Him. Martyrdom, for St. Agnes, meant the generous and free acceptance of giving her own young life, in its entirety and without reservation, that the Gospel might be preached as the truth and beauty that illuminate life. (I absolutely love this connection between St. Agnes and the preaching of the Gospel! Even though the point of reference here is to her martyrdom, I also think that it has a connection to her virginity as well. I think it would be fruitful for us consecrated virgins to mediate on the intimate relationship between consecrated virginity—i.e., the offering of oneself whole and entire—and the Church constant commitment to preserving the truth of the teachings of the faith.)

In the martyrdom of Agnes, received courageously in the stadium of Domitian, there shines forever the beauty of belonging to Christ without hesitation, relying on Him. Even today, for anyone who steps into Piazza Navona, (I am very blessed to be able to walk through the Piazza Navona every day on my way to school! I always think of St. Agnes while I am there. It’s a great support to my vocation to be able to be so often in the place where she was martyred.) the effigy of the saint from atop the gable of the church of St. Agnes in Agony, reminds him that our city is based also on the friendship with Christ and witness to his Gospel, of many of its sons and daughters. Their generous surrender to Him and to the good of their brothers is a primary component of the spiritual physiognomy of Rome.

In martyrdom, Agnes also seals the other crucial element of her life, virginity for Christ and for the Church. The total gift of martyrdom is prepared, in fact, by the conscious, free and mature choice of virginity, a witness to the will to belong totally to Christ. If martyrdom is a final heroic act, virginity is the result of a long friendship with Jesus that has matured in the constant hearing of His Word, in the dialogue of prayer, in the Eucharistic encounter. Agnes, still young, learned that being a disciple of the Lord means loving Him by putting all her life at His disposal. (According to St. Ambrose, St. Agnes was twelve years old when she was martyred. And so in my opinion, the life and witness of St. Agnes is itself the most eloquent argument for seeing consecrated virginity as a vocation especially suitable for younger women.) This dual qualification—Virgin and Martyr—calls to mind in our reflection that a credible witness of the faith must be a person who lives for Christ, with Christ and in Christ, transforming their lives according to the higher needs of Grace.

Feast of St. Lucy

2011-12-13T15:41:00.000-05:00

Today is the feast of St. Lucy, one of the martyred consecrated virgin-saints whose name is mentioned in the Roman Canon...for more on St. Lucy, click here.

To be perfectly honest, I would have loved to have written a long, thoughtful post on this lovely “sister” of mine, but right now my brain is way, WAY too tired from trying to study Diritto Canonico in Italian. (Right now, I am working on a summary/reaction paper for a book with the translated title of “A Critical Introduction to Natural Law”--and this work is pretty much what it sounds like. Happily, at least with this asignment, the book has a good English translation and you can write your paper in whatever major European language you want. Guess which language I’m choosing!)

So instead, I am going to let the Church’s liturgy speak for me! The Office of Readings for St. Lucy is one of my favorites in the breviary. Taken from St. Ambrose’s work De Virginitate, it reads like exceedingly beautiful “spiritual direction” for consecrated virgins, applying equally as well to the consecrated virgins of our own century as it did to the consecrated virgins of the Patristic era.

Emphases and comments are mine.

***

You light up your grace of body with the radiance of your mind

You are one of God’s people, of God’s family, a virgin among virgins; you light up your grace of body with your splendor of soul. More than others you can be compared to the Church. When you are in your room, then, at night, think always on Christ, and wait for his coming at every moment.

This is the person Christ has loved in loving you, the person he has chosen in choosing you. (I think here, St. Ambrose means that Christ loves the Church in His love for the individual consecrated virgin.) He enters by the open door; he has promised to come in, and he cannot deceive. Embrace him, the one you have sought; turn to him, and be enlightened; hold him fast, ask him not to go in haste, beg him not to leave you. The Word of God moves swiftly; he is not won by the lukewarm, nor held fast by the negligent. Let your soul be attentive to his word; follow carefully the path God tells you to take, for he is swift in his passing.

What does his bride say? I sought him, and did not find him; I called him, and he did not hear me. (Most of these quotes are from the Song of Songs--a book St. Ambrose loved to reference in his writings to and about consecrated virgins.) Do not imagine that you are displeasing to him despite having called him, asked him in, and opened the door to him; and that this is the reason why he has gone so quickly – no, for he allows us to be constantly tested. When the crowds pressed him to stay, what does he say in the Gospel? I must preach the word of God to other cities, because for that I have been sent. But even if it seems to you that he has left you, go out and seek him once more.

Who but holy Church is to teach you how to hold Christ fast? Indeed, she has already taught you, if you only understood her words in Scripture: How short a time it was when I left them before I found him whom my soul has loved. I held him fast, and I will not let him go.

How do we hold him fast? Not by restraining chains or knotted ropes but by bonds of love, by spiritual reins, by the longing of the soul.

If you also, like the bride, wish to hold him fast, seek him and be fearless of suffering. It is often easier to find him in the midst of bodily torments, in the very hands of persecutors.

His bride says: How short a time it was after I left them. In a little space, after a brief moment, when you have escaped from the hands of your persecutors without yielding to the powers of this world, Christ will come to you, and he will not allow you to be tested for long. (This is a valuable concepts even to those of us who are unlikely to be called to “red” martrydom. We should still earnestly pray for the grace to “love Him till the end” in whatever circumstances we live our lives.)

Whoever seeks Christ in this way, and finds him, can say: I held him fast, and I will not let him go before I bring him into my mother’s house, into the room of her who conceived me. What is this “house,” this “room,” but the deep and secret places of your heart?

Maintain this house, sweep out its secret recesses until it becomes immaculate and rises as a spiritual temple for a holy priesthood, firmly secured by Christ, the cornerstone, so that the Holy Spirit may dwell in it

Whoever seeks Christ in this way, whoever prays to Christ in this way, is not abandoned by him; on the contrary, Christ comes again and again to visit such a person, for He is with us until the end of the world.

Prayer:

May the glorious intercession
of the Virgin and Martyr St. Lucy
give us new heart, we pray, O Lord,
so that we may celebrate her heavenly birthday
in this present age,
and so behold things eternal.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.*

* There is an interesting explanation of the new (2011) translation of this prayer at WDTPRS?

A Secular Vocation?

2011-11-10T07:37:00.002-05:00

Recently in her blog, “Notes From Stillsong Hermitage” diocesan hermit Sr. Laurel O’Neal has written several posts with the aim of articulating on the nature of consecrated virginity as a distinctly “secular” vocation. (There are many posts in her series on this, but for some examples see here, here, here, and here.)

Without meaning to spark off a huge inter-blog debate, I do think it would be good for me to respond in at least a general way to Sr. Laurel’s series of posts on consecrated virgins, especially since “Sponsa Christi” was quoted or alluded to in several places.

In a nutshell, my view on the “secularity” of consecrated virginity as a vocation is: I very strongly believe that consecrated virgins are NOT called to a secular way of life, in the sense that we would normally use the word “secular.” That is, I think that consecrated virgins should adopt a way of life that is distinctively “consecrated,” or “set apart” for God alone in demonstrable and concrete ways. Because consecrated virginity is a public state of consecrated life (just as religious life is), consecrated virgins should order their lives around Christ and His Church in a more exclusive, explicit, and radical way than would be proper or possible for the vast majority of the laity.

To put it in more tangible terms, a consecrated virgin’s lifestyle should not be one which could be easily mistaken for that of a devout single laywoman. Rather, it should be informed by the Evangelical Counsels to a greater degree than that to which all the baptized are already called.

Consequently, as I’ve written before, I believe that it’s most appropriate for consecrated virgins to have (whenever it is at all possible in any way whatsoever) serious commitments to the direct and full-time service of the Church; to the recitation of the Divine Office and participation in the Church’s liturgical life; to a lifestyle of true evangelical simplicity; to life-long service in fulfilling the spiritual and pastoral needs of her home diocese; and to a real accountability towards her bishop.

As consecrated virgins, our reception of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity should have major, significant—and therefore, plainly noticeable!—consequences not only in the quiet recesses of our souls, but also in the shape and quality of our day-to-day exterior lives.

Consecrated virgins could perhaps be described as “secular” in a limited and more technical sense of the term, in reference to the fact that consecrated virginity is a different form of consecrated life than religious life properly so-called. (Much in the same way as diocesan priests are called “secular” simply because they are not a part of a religious Order.) Although even here I do want to point out that: 1. In their English translations, neither Canon Law nor the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity ever actually use the word “secular” in referring to consecrated virgins; and 2. very often before the second Vatican Council, and even sometimes in more recent documents, the Church uses the word “religious” in a looser way to refer to all forms of consecrated life inclusively, so in some contexts even referring to consecrated virgins as “religious” would not seem to be wholly inappropriate.

And, one thing to keep in mind is that “secular” is not a univocal term. I.e., it can be used to mean different things in different contexts. The limited, technical sense of the word “secular”—which I believe is the sense used when describing the vocation of consecrated virgins or the secular clergy— is different from the way we would use it in common speech.

A stronger, more robust (and at the same time, more colloquial) definition of “secular”—which the Church does employ in other contexts, such as when speaking of the vocation of the laity or of those in secular institutes—would probably be something along the lines of “full participation and engagement in the world of temporal affairs”; or in a negative* sense: “not exclusively set aside for God’s own use in a direct and explicit way.”

While the majority of baptized Catholics are called to a secular lifestyle in this strong sense of the term, I don’t believe that this is the case for consecrated virgins. In other words, consecrated virgins are called to be openly and consistently identified with the Church; not only with the Church as the somewhat more abstract concept of the communion of the People of God, but also with the Church as the visible institution which Christ Himself founded.** Therefore, every area of consecrated virgins’ lives should revolve unambiguously around the direct service of the Church and intimacy with God in prayer.

Given this, consecrated virgins would therefore NOT ordinarily be called to be Christian witnesses in politics, purely civil affairs, the secular professional world, or the business or financial community. They would also not be called under normal circumstances to be a “hidden leaven,” or to live out their consecration in a more subtle or less than fully public way.

I don’t think it would be possible for me to respond to every point Sr. Laurel makes in her series on consecrated virgins, especially since it seems that we may disagree on some very fundamental philosophical and ecclesiological premises (such as the inter-relationship between a person’s identity and his or her concrete actions and choices, the nature of the Church as an institution, the role of the hierarchy in relationship to the Church’s charismatic dimension, and the objective theological superiority of consecrated life).

Still, having briefly shared my basic point of view on the question of whether or not consecrated virginity is a truly “secular” vocation, there are four main points which I would like to make in response to Sr. Laurel’s series of posts:

1. There are actually no clear indications that the Church envisions consecrated virgins as being called to a secular vocation in the strong sense of the term…

…which remains the case despite the numerous and wide-spread assumptions to the contrary.

If you read the actual authoritative liturgical and magisterial documents pertaining to consecrated virginity on their own, apart from whatever non-authoritative commentaries you might have encountered (such as the USACV website or widely read journal articles such as this one by Sr.Sharon Holland, IHM), I think it would be highly unlikely that you would come away with the impression that consecrated virgins are supposed to be “secular” in the strong sense of the term.

In fact, the only thing I can think of which could possible give anyone the idea that consecrated virgins are called to live secular lifestyles is the phrase “living in the world.” Yet, this term is still rather ambiguous—in my opinion, much too ambiguous to be the final word in such an important question.

In the Rite itself, the phrase “living in the world” is used only once: to distinguish between the version of the Rite which is to be used for professed cloistered contemplative nuns, and the version which is intended for non-monastic consecrated virgins. The only other instance where this phrase is used is in the Catechism of the Catholic Church—once again, as a way to identify the two categories of women who may receive the Rite of Consecration. (Canon Law actually does NOT use the phrase “living in the world” to decribe consecrated virgins.)

Given this, my thought is that when speaking about consecrated virgins the Church understands the phrase “living in the world” as primarily a technical designation, and not as a blueprint for consecrated virgins’ way of life.

To be sure, I don’t think that “living in the world” is totally without practical and spiritual significance for those called to this category of consecrated virginity. However, I do think that many (if not most) commentators tend to give this one phrase more weight than it actually seems to merit, and to jump to conclusions when it comes to “filling in the blanks” about what concrete expressions the designation “living in the world” should have in the lifestyle of consecrated virgins.

Further, not only do the Rite of Consecration, Canon Law, and the other authoritative magisterial documents which mention consecrated virginity refrain from stating anywhere that consecrated virgins are called to a secular way of life in the strong sense of the term, but they also include passages which suggest exactly the opposite.

For example, the introduction to the Rite of Consecration states that consecrated virgins are to: “…spend their time in works of penance and of mercy, in apostolic activity, and in prayer, according to their state in life [i.e., according to their newly-attained state of being publically consecrated] and their spiritual gifts.”

What this does not say that consecrated virgins should only spend part of their time in these activities, or that they should do these things insofar as their professional work schedule allows, or that it might be nice if a consecrated virgin did these things if she had personal feelings of being called to do them.

Likewise, canon 604 of course describes consecrated virgins as “dedicated to the service of the Church,” in similar wording used in canon 281 when it describes secular priests as being dedicated—i.e., “totally given over” to their ministry. This point is echoed in the Rite’s suggested homily, where the virgin-to-be-consecrated is exhorted to “…Never forget that you are given over entirely to the service of the Church and of all your brothers and sisters.”

Also, one formula for the presentation of the veil reads:

Receive this veil,
by which you are to show
that you have been chosen from other women
to be dedicated to the service of Christ
and of his body, which is the Church.

As I see it, this is a very clear indication that consecrated virgins are in fact expected to live their lives as women “set apart.”

In all these examples, the focus on concrete service and prayer, combined with the emphases on the completeness and entirety of a consecrated virgin’s self-offering and her role as one “set apart” for God, very strongly suggests a visibly and distinctly “consecrated” lifestyle rather than a strongly secular one.

Finally, if we were to consider consecrated virgins as being called to a “consecrated secularity” similar to that which Sr. Laurel describes (which to me seems to indicate a way of life and spirituality very similar to that of secular institute members, or to that of women who have made private vows of virginity), then this would actually be somewhat of a historical anachronism.

The consecrated virgins who lived during the time of the Church Fathers were basically proto-nuns, and likewise religious life properly so-called in may respects grew directly out of the vocation of consecrated virginity. So it would be exceedingly difficult to argue that the early consecrated virgins saw themselves as being truly “secular.”

Now, I do NOT think this means that we should ignore the distinctions between consecrated virginity per se and religious life technically speaking. Nor do I think that recognizing the significance of this historical reality should automatically lead to consecrated virgins inappropriately trying to live as “quasi-religious”*** instead of embracing their own unique charism as consecrated virgins.

But at the same time, I think this also should prevent us from trying to superimpose a very modern charism (secular institutes and “consecrated secularity” are almost overwhelmingly a twentieth-century development in the life of the Church) onto what is really an ancient vocation.

2. In and of itself, a perceived pastoral need does not necessarily affect the foundational theology of a particular vocation or state in life.

One of Sr. Laurel’s main theses regarding the proposed “secularity” of consecrated virginity as a vocation is that the Church is in need of a specifically secular witness on the part of consecrated persons.

Whether or not there actually is such a pastoral need in the Church today (and I personally would tend to think that there is not), this kind of premise is actually kind of irrelevant to the question of whether or not consecrated virgins should live strongly secular lifestyles.

Granted, in many ways pastoral issues can be important to take into account when making decisions on certain very practical matters. (E.g., if consecrated virgins wearing veils full-time would truly confuse and scandalize the faithful in a particular local Church, then it would be prudent and appropriate for the diocesan bishop to ask the consecrated virgins in his diocese not to wear them, even if wearing a veil is a completely practice on a theological level.) However, in most cases, determinations about how a vocation should be lived should be based only on the objective theology of that state in life. (E.g., Even if a bishop thought it would greatly benefit his diocese to consecrate men as virgins, he would be unable to do so, because this is totally against the nature of consecrated virginity as a feminine vocation.)

So even if the Church truly needed consecrated virgins to be more secular, this alone would not change or retroactively influence the mind of the Church when she established the consecration of virgins in her first centuries. Even if we can’t precisely articulate it right now, consecrated virginity is what it is an objective way—external, pastoral considerations would not change its fundamental, essential nature (even if they might legitimately affect some of its more practical expressions).

If consecrated virginity is indeed a vocation which calls one to be more “consecrated” than “secular,” no amount of pastoral need is going to change this fact. Such a pressing pastoral need might lead to an increase in vocations to secular institutes or to lay movements like Opus Dei (or perhaps even to new kinds of vocations developing within the Church), but it would not change or affect the essential theological nature of consecrated virginity.

3. Saying that consecrated virgins are not called to a strongly secular vocation does NOT undermine the call of the laity.

In her series, Sr. Laurel also expresses concern that if consecrated virgins were to be asked to live a more demonstrably “consecrated” lifestyle, this would undermine the call of the laity by reinforcing the erroneous notion that non-clergy and non-consecrated persons are something like “second class citizens” within the Church.

As I understand it, Sr. Laurel’s reasoning on this matter is based on the premise that: if consecrated virgins are asked or seek to avoid a secular- or lay-lifestyle, then this must manifest a belief that the call of the laity is something deficient, lacking, or perhaps even less-than-pure or otherwise “bad.” Therefore, consecrated virgins should not avoid living like laypeople, because their openness to a strongly secular way of life would show that the call of the laity is something which is intrinsically good.

Since this more or less a pastoral (rather than a strictly doctrinal or canonical) issue, everything I said in the previous section naturally applies here. Still, I want to stress that I do NOT think that an emphasis on consecrated virgins’ publically consecrated status undermines an appreciation of the call of the laity in any way—on the contrary, I believe it affirms and safeguards it.

The vocation of the laity is to witness to Christ in every-day life, and to infuse the world of temporal affairs with the spirit of the Gospel. If this is also essentially the vocation of consecrated virgins, then consecrated virginity as a vocation would be almost a redundancy in the Church, and thus it wouldn’t make sense for the Church to have consecrated virgins in the first place.

But more importantly, I think that if we understand consecrated virgins as having virtually the same role in the Church as the laity, then this school of thought would actually be what undermines the vocation of lay people.

What message does it convey to the laity when we describe consecrated virgins as being called to more or less the same thing as they are—only that consecrated virgins live out this vocation with more gifts of grace from God because they are allowed to receive a special rite?

And doesn’t this line of reasoning also suggest that lay people aren’t quite as capable of being a Christian witness in the secular world as consecrated virgins supposedly are? Or that, unlike the laity at large, the consecrated virgins are the ones who are really serious about being a “leaven in the world?”

In either case, to me it seems like it would be most respectful to the dignity of the lay vocation if we regard it as something that truly is proper to the laity (as in, unique to them)—and not something which consecrated virgins also do, only to a more exceptional degree.

4. There is nothing about a more “consecrated” lifestyle which prevents consecrated virgins from being true “apostles” and witness to the Gospel.

Sr. Laurel also argues that an emphasis on “consecration” at the expense of “secularity” hinders consecrated virgins from their true vocation as “apostles,” or witnesses to the Gospel.

But if we were seriously going to argue that a distinctively “consecrated” way of life makes consecrated virgins less capable of being “apostles,” then we would also have to maintain that women religious are also bear less of an apostolic witness than the Catholic laity. (In which case it would follow that religious life would be sort of a step down or away from one’s obligation to bear witness to the Gospel—and does anyone here really want to argue that?)

On the other hand, I really do think that we consecrated virgins are most convincing as Christian witnesses when we live a distinctively “consecrated” way of life.

When we as consecrated virgins live as women demonstrably “set apart” for God’s purposes, we bear witness to the fact that God’s goodness transcends that of all created things. We proclaim the primacy of Christ in a world which “is passing away”; we testify to the fact that Christ alone is the fulfillment of all time and history; and we show the world that God alone can satisfy the human heart.

However, I think that this particular type of witness is a lot less striking when consecrated virgins come across to others as being fully committed to and engaged in the world of temporal affairs. To me, it seems like it would prompt the question: if consecrated virgins have supposedly chosen Christ above all things, why do they still seem so attached to the things of this world?

It should go without saying that just because some people are called to renounce worldly things, it doesn’t necessarily follow that all of these things are therefore bad in and of themselves. I do believe that there is a role in the Church for those who feel called bear witness to the essential goodness of all of God’s creation, including the goodness of many passing temporal goods. But once again, I think this is the call of the laity, especially the laity who are married and who have children.

What’s more, I really don’t think it would make sense for consecrated virgins to try to be a witness to the goodness of earthly life. Consecrated virgins publically renounce human marriage and natural motherhood, which are arguably some of the greatest and most precious earthly goods. Making the profound sacrifice of such great goods, only to occupy ourselves with the much lesser earthly goods of a professional career, involvement in civil politics, etc., to me seems to be sending a rather confused and inconsistent message.

5. A strongly secular lifestyle isn’t good for consecrated virgins, or for consecrated virginity as a vocation.

Admittedly, this is my own opinion, albeit a thoroughly well-considered one. And, once again, concerns such as this, which are more pastoral in nature, don’t necessarily affect the objective theology of a state in life.

But, coming towards the conclusion of this post, I still think that it would be appropriate for us to take into account some of what I see as the “dangers” of emphasizing consecrated virgins’ proposed “secular” identity.

First of all, saying that consecrated virgins are called to be publically consecrated persons, but at the same time are called to be fully secular, puts candidates and newly-consecrated virgins in a confusing situation as far as interiorizing their vocation is concerned. As I see it, this is asking consecrated virgins to base their identity on the combination of two mutually exclusive concepts—something that could be defined as an impossible developmental task! It can also lead to a lot of painful rumination on whether or not receiving the Rite of Consecration actually “means anything,” and this ambiguity makes it a lot harder to bear up under the inevitable misunderstandings newly-consecrated virgins will encounter.

I know a lot of people say that this is “creative tension.” However, we should remember that tension is not always in every case creative—it can also be highly, highly destructive. Determining whether or not a particular point of tension is creative or destructive takes an uncanny amount of insight and discernment, and is often only seen clearly in hindsight (and this is true for people of all ages—the chronologically young don’t have a monopoly on the need for discernment). So I don’t think we should be too quick to assume that the “tension” which many newly consecrated virgins experience when trying to reconcile the “consecrated” and supposedly “secular” aspects of their vocation is a good or healthy thing.

Also, considering problems that could possibly arise in sort of the opposite direction (and I know I’m going to generate pages of negative comments for saying this, but I’m saying it anyway because I honestly believe that it needs to be said), I think that we should be realistic and frank about the possibility that “secularity” could at some point come to mean “laxity.”

Speaking in purely hypothetical terms (and thus not, NOT, NOT in reference to any individual consecrated virgin--and I am fully aware that there may be many consecrated virgins who disagree with me who are much holier than I am), it’s easy to imagine how a supposed “secular” identity could be used to rationalize a consecrated virgin’s less-than-convincing witness to the Gospel.

For example, maybe a consecrated virgin maintains a much higher standard of living than she really needs to, wearing expensive cloths, taking nice vacations, and frequenting fancy restaurants and other entertainments…this could be justified as a need to “be professional” and to keep up with her secular lay colleagues.

Or, maybe it could happen that as her “first fervor” or “honeymoon period” starts to fade, a consecrated virgin finds herself drifting away from her commitment to prayer. “Being called to a secular life” could offer a plausible sounding excuse for skipping daily Mass (perhaps as “…too inconvenient with my work schedule.”), giving up large portions of the Divine Office (maybe since “I’m secular, and so I must not be strictly required to say it, and I haven’t been finding it personally helpful lately…”), or for skimping on private prayer (“…I visit Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament as recreation, and I haven’t had much time for recreation lately—after all, I hold down a full-time job!”)

notes:

* By “negative” I of course don’t mean negative in the moral sense of “bad” or “evil.” To come to a more in-depth understanding, I’m just trying to consider secularity according to what it is not, in addition to considerations on what it is.

** But at the same time, I do want to point out that it’s not good to maintain too strict a division between an understanding of the Church as “the people of God” and an understanding of the Church as a visible institution—this is setting up a false dichotomy.

*** Although there are things which, although some commentators might call them “quasi-religious” which are actually proper to consecrated life in general, and thus appropriate if not necessary for consecrated virgins. Examples of this might include a commitment to a truly simple way of life or a basic level of accountability to some external authority figure.

Examples of things which might be “quasi-religious” in a way that was truly inappropriate for consecrated virgins could be things like: a focus on one specific type of apostolic work; a intensely characteristic devotion to a particular “founder,” saint, or specific kind or set of devotional prayers; or a deep sense of commitment to the following a detailed “Rule” or horarium (i.e., a devotion to a specific schedule which became a central element to one’s interior life.)

Feast of All Saints

2011-11-01T07:24:00.001-04:00

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God,

and no torment shall touch them.

They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead;

and their passing away was thought an affliction

and their going forth from us, utter destruction.

But they are in peace.

For if to others, indeed, they seem punished,

yet is their hope full of immortality;

Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed,

because God tried them

and found them worthy of Himself.

As gold in the furnace, he proved them,

and as sacrificial offerings he took them to Himself.

In the time of their judgment they shall shine

and dart about as sparks through stubble;

They shall judge nations and rule over peoples,

and the LORD shall be their King forever.

Those who trust in him shall understand truth,

and the faithful shall abide with him in love:

Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones,

and his care is with the elect.

(Wisdom 3:1-9)

Updates from Rome

2011-10-14T15:05:00.000-04:00

(About the image: this is a photo of my school, shamelessly “borrowed” from their website.)

Well, I did make it to Rome safely! I’ve been here exactly one month today—a month which has been amazing, but also totally and utterly overwhelming.

For one thing, this was my first time leaving North America ever (and practically my first time being outside of the United States; I was in Canada for thirty minutes about ten years ago). And in travelling here, I left the United States so quickly that sometimes I feel like I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything.

I knew at the end of June that I would be sent to study Canon Law, but I didn’t know for sure until the very end of July that I would be going to Rome (that is, if the logistics would not have worked out, I would have been sent to Washington, D.C.). Also, I wasn’t quite sure how long it would take for me to get a visa, so I didn’t even book my flight until about three days before I left. It was not until my plane was over the north Atlantic that I let myself believe that Rome was really going to happen.

Providentially, I landed here in Rome early on the morning of September 14—the feast of the Triumph of the Cross. The first thing I did once I arrived at the place where I am living was attend a morning Mass for the feast. And after the Mass, I was even able to venerate a relic of the true cross! (Appropriately enough for someone attending Pontifica Università della Santa Croce.)

In this past month, I’ve seen things I never thought I would see in person: St. Peter’s, the Sistine Chapel, and the catacombs of St. Callixtus (an image of which I have had on my sidebar since this blog first started) where St. Cecilia was first buried.

One of my favorite things about my life in Rome right now is that I can walk through the Piazza Navona on my way to and from school—not because I particularly care for all the tourist attractions there, but because it was the place where St. Agnes was martyred. One of the most beautiful antiphons from the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, which the newly-consecrated sings right after she receives her ring—“I am espoused to Him whom angels serve; sun and moon stand in wonder at His glory”—is attributed to St. Agnes. It amazing for me to be able to stand in the place where these words were spoken for the first time!

On a similar note, you always hear about how the Church is universal…but to actually see it for yourself really is as marvelous as everyone says. I keep getting a feeling that I can’t quite put into words—something like: I never knew! I never really understood before just how vast and deep our Church, the Church of which I am a member, truly is. All this history, all these people—all the Apostles, martyrs, Popes, saints, and billions and billions of Christian souls. And yet, even someone as little as me is not unknown or insignificant.

Still, my coming to Rome is most certainly NOT the Archdiocese sending me on a three-year vacation. (Or even a three-year retreat!) Getting used to a foreign culture is challenging. I am finding that I need to re-learn how to do almost everything: how to use the washing machine, how to cross the street, how to buy things in stores, converting everything into metric (I’m still not used to hearing people say things like: “it’s going to get up to 33˚ tomorrow, so you’re lucky you have air conditioning”), etc. Even trying to plug things into walls is an adventure!

And of course, the reason I’m here is to study Canon Law (a subject I’ve never formally studied before), with all my classes entirely in Italian (a language which I had also never studied). After just having completed my first week of classes, I can say that yes, this really is about as daunting as it sounds…yet at the same time, I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited and happy to be going to school. Knowing that I was send her with the express purpose of serving the Church in New York spurs me on to keep trying my best even in the times when the task ahead of me seems almost beyond my capacities.

Still, I think out of necessity, my personal motto this year is going to have to be: “With God, all things are possible.” (cf. Matthew 19:26) So I could still use prayers!

Where I Will Be Studying

2011-09-04T14:10:00.003-04:00

While I was searching for something else online, I found this video about the Pontificia Università della Santa Croce, where I will be studying for the next three years:

And yes, I am totally excited for this amazing opportunity! :)

(But please pray that the Holy Spirit will help me learn Italian.)

Some Updates: Yes, I Am Still Alive!

2011-08-13T22:17:00.000-04:00

Despite the long silence, yes, I am still alive! I’m just coming towards the end of one of the busiest summers I have ever had.

As I mentioned earlier, I am writing a high school level Religion textbook on Vocations (which will probably reach classrooms in September 2013). I have had about four and a half months to write a full-length book, so needless to say this didn’t leave me with much time or mental energy to do much other writing. (Even when I writing my Master’s thesis, that was shorter in length and I had twice as much time to do it!) Happily, I’m starting to a light at the end of the tunnel; at this point, the core writing is more or less done and now I’m working on the rewrites. And it’s by far worth all the work to know that my writing may—God willing!—help to plant the seeds of future vocations in the Church.

I was also able to get away for a few days, albeit with my laptop in tow, to attend the United States Association of Consecrated Virgins’ annual convocation. This is the first one I have ever been able to attend, and overall it was a good experience. I’m very glad that I was able to go. (I was even pleasantly surprised to meet a few blog readers in person for the first time!)

Since the convocation was help at the University of St. Mary of the Lake, (a.k.a. Mundelein, the seminary of the Archdiocese of Chicago) I was able to stay with and visit my mentor, Sr. Sara Butler, MSBT, who is on the theological faculty there. I met Sister Sara when she was teaching at St. Joseph’s Seminary here in New York, and she was a great help to me in my discernment, first few years of consecrated life, and in my graduate theological studies. (She was also one of my “bridesmaids” when I was consecrated.)

Sister Sara is Missionary Servant of the Blessed Trinity, a community founded in the early twentieth century for the preservation of the faith—basically, their charism is what we would now call “the new evangelization.” (I told Sister that her community’s vocation promotion tag line should be: “The New Evangelization: We did it before it was cool!” Sister said she would think about it.)

Also this summer, I received some rather life-changing news—the Archdiocese of New York is going to send me to Rome for three years to study for a license in Canon Law (a J.C.L. degree) so that I can serve on our Metropolitan Tribunal. God willing, I am planning to start classes at the Pontifical University of the Holy Cross this coming Fall.

As you might imagine, I’m overjoyed to be given such a wonderful opportunity! I’m excited to have the change to live for a few years in the heart of the Church, and amidst so many cultural riches. But in all honesty, I think I’m even happier to know that, once I come back home for good, I’ll be able to serve the Church in New York in such a much-needed capacity.

And actually, I’m kind of having a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that this is really happening! Things are coming along, but there is still a lot I need to do to get ready to go to Rome. So please, everyone, do keep me in your prayers!

Habemus forum!

2011-06-17T20:06:00.010-04:00

We have a forum! In response to this post, a friend graciously offered to help me set up a “Sponsa Christi” forum. This forum will be for consecrated virgins, candidates, and women seriously discerning this vocation who feel called to embrace a more structured and demonstrably “consecrated” way of life.

You can find the forum at: http://www.sponsa-christi.proboards.com/.

Most of the content will be open for anyone to read, but you will need to register in order to post.

If you would like to promote the new Sponsa Christi forum on your website or blog, simply save the image and upload it to your site.

Use the following code to place the ad:

<a href=http://sponsa-christi.proboards.com><img src=ForumAd.jpg width=300 height=353 border=0 alt="Join the Sponsa Christi Forum"></a>

If you would like a slightly smaller version, try the following:

<a href=http://sponsa-christi.proboards.com><img src=ForumAd.jpg width=150 height=151 border=0 alt="Join the Sponsa Christi Forum"></a>

Or if you prefer, you could try this one with the following code:

<a href=http://sponsa-christi.proboards.com><img src=ForumAd2.jpg width=256 height=450 border=0 alt="Follow Apollonia to the forum!"></a>

If you would like a slightly smaller version try the following:

<a href=http://sponsa-christi.proboards.com><img src=ForumAd2.jpg width=135 height=237 border=0 alt="Follow Apollonia to the forum!"></a>

If you have thoughts or suggestions for the forum, feel free to leave them in the comment box below. (Hat tip to blog reader Mantellata for her help with the graphics.)

What I Have Been Up To Lately

2011-06-17T16:41:00.004-04:00

Sorry for the long blog silence! It’s been a busy month and a half.

First of all, I’m currently writing a high school religion textbook on…of all things…vocations!
(You can be sure there will be a seriously awesome section on consecrated life! ;-) ) The book is for a series created to correspond with the U.S. Bishop’s new curriculum guidelines for high school religion classes.

To me, writing for upper-level high school students is an “apostolate” in the best sense of the term—it’s a wonderfully direct way to teach the faith. And hopefully, it will also encourage more than a few young people to consider the priesthood or consecrated life.

However, I am on a rather tight deadline schedule. So please be patient with me, as the blog might have to suffer a bit until the manuscript is completed in August. (Although I do hope to have a real post here sometime next week.)

During the month of May, it seems like didn’t have a single free weekend—it seemed like something special was happening every Saturday.

The second weekend in May, I drove out to Alfred, New York (about five hours west of where I live) where I was invited to blog reader Shana’s senior B.F.A. art show. Her thesis was on the Theology of the Body. She has many of her paintings posted on her blog. So you can check them out when you go over to congratulate her!

The next weekend was our priesthood Ordinations in the Archdiocese of New York, at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City.

Here is a slideshow of the Ordination weekend made by one of the Cathedral Prep students:

Ordination 2011 Slideshow from Caleb Lococo on Vimeo.

After that, I drove down to Raleigh, North Carolina for the transitional diaconate Ordination of my friend and college classmate Don Maloney.

Here is a great picture of Deacon Don preaching a homily for the first time at Mass the next day:

Happily, the first reading was on the instituion of the diaconate (in Acts 6:1-7), so the new “Reverend Mister” didn’t have to look too far for inspiration.

On my way back home from the Deep South, I was able to make my annual retreat at the Visitation Monastery in Georgetown (in Washington, D.C.).

The Order of the Visitation was founded by Sts. Francis de Sales and Jane Francis de Chantal. A contemplative monastic Order, their charism is centered on the “little virtues,” such as kindness, patience, and humility. The particular charism of the Visitation monastery in Georgetown (which is one of the oldest religious communities in North America) also involves an educational apostate. The nuns of the Georgetown monastery are semi-cloistered, so they are able to run a girls’ high school adjacent to their convent.

St. Francis de Sales also insisted that the Visitation monasteries have the rare privilege of allowing women (even lay women) to make private retreats inside the enclosure. This is something for which I’m certainly very grateful! Among other things, it was a real treat to be able to pray the Office in choir with the nuns.

The night before I returned home, we took a few pictures. Here’s a photo of my friend Sr. Anne Elizabeth, me, and St. Francis de Sales:

Sr. Anne E. grew up in Yonkers, New York (actually right across the street from our archdiocesan seminary). So even though we didn’t meet until after she entered the convent, we’ve wound up having some of the same friends and knowing a lot of the same people.

In this photo, Sr. Anne E. said we had to do a cool “rapper” pose. But obviously, Sister is much cooler than I am!

Anybody Interested…?

2011-04-30T15:49:00.006-04:00

I have been wondering lately, would any readers be interested in something like a closed Facebook page (or a private blog, or some kind of forum—assuming I can figure out how to set up a forum) for consecrated virgins, candidates, and women seriously discerning this vocation who feel called to embrace a more structured and demonstrably “consecrated” way of life?

Based on some of the comments I’ve received on this blog (such as the first anonymous comment on this post), as well as many of the relationships I’ve developed through email correspondence, I’ve come to believe that I am not the only one who is inclined to interpret the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity in a more strict and literal fashion.

This is absolutely not intended at all as a criticism of those who hold different views than I do—the Church hasn’t yet given any authoritative clarification on many of the practical aspects of a consecrated virgin’s daily life, so I recognize that right now it’s completely legitimate to have different opinions.

However, it seems that oftentimes those of us who do feel called to live our virginal consecration in a more radical way can tend to feel sort of isolated (despite the growing influence of various consecrated virgins’ associations worldwide).

Although as consecrated virgins we all receive the same Rite of Consecration, sometimes in striving to live a distinctively “consecrated” lifestyle, at times I personally feel almost though I’m living a de facto different vocation than the virgins who feel called to live out their consecrated lives in a more “hidden” way. And I’m guessing that my experience in this is not an entirely unique one.

My hunch is that there are probably greater numbers of “radical” (or at least “radically-inclined”) consecrated virgins than most of us realize, and I think it would be great if we could connect online for the purpose of offering mutual sisterly support.

I also think that it would be good to have a place where we could have open discussions amongst ourselves about things like: how to deal with certain practical issues, how to best interpret ambiguous areas of the Rite, how we explain our vocation to family and friends, relating to the wider community as a consecrated virgin, and dealing with some of the spiritual challenges unique to consecrated virginity. My thought is that it would be very helpful to have a place where we could run problems and concerns by others who have truly “been there.”

I don’t think that everyone in this proposed Facebook group/private blog/forum would have to agree with each other on absolutely everything—after all, part of its purpose would be to learn from each other and to try to see our concerns from different angles.

But just to make sure that we were all basically on the same page, this would be a group for consecrated virgins and candidates who believe that:

1. the call to be “dedicated to the service of the Church” should mean a literal dedication to direct service of the Church under normal circumstances;

2. consecrated virgins should strive to live the evangelical counsels of poverty and obedience in at least some sense;

3. consecrated virgins are called to have at least some kind of serious and meaningful bond with the diocese for which they were consecrated;

4. while consecrated virginity involves a great deal of joy, it also necessarily entails some very real sacrifices;

5. in fulfilling their obligation of prayer, consecrated virgins should be asked to meet at least some objective standards (such as praying the Liturgy of the Hours or attending daily Mass);

6. consecrated virgins are called to be public witnesses in the Church, and therefore should be as open about their vocation and identity as priests and religious Sisters are called to be about theirs;

7. young women should not be discouraged from discerning vocations to consecrated virginity simply because of their age.

If an online group of this sort would appeal to you, let me know. Either leave a comment at the bottom of this post (anonymous comments are okay here); or send me an email: sponsa.christi.author [at] gmail [dot] com (put “CV online group” in the subject line).

I would appreciate input, not only about who’s interested, but also about the best way to go about organizing this kind of online community (e.g., would it be better to start a private multi-author blog, or to start a Facebook group?).

Finally, I want to restate once again that this is NOT in any way intended as a disparagement those who generally disagree with my interpretations of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity. Nor am I trying to create factions or cut off dialogue.

I completely appreciate the fact that—as far as the ambiguous areas of this form of consecrated life are concerned—all consecrated virgins have the right and the obligation to live out their vocation according to what they in conscience determine to be the mind of the Church. If you’re a consecrated virgin who is doing her best to follow her conscience, there’s no way I could fault you, even if I might disagree with some of your interpretations on an objective intellectual level.

It’s just my thought that, since consecrated virginity lived in the world is such a challenging vocation as it is, it might be helpful if consecrated virgins who share a similar (and perhaps less widely-accepted) understanding of our vocation were able to “meet” one another.

Update 5/4/11:

Just for some clarification—I have no plans to discontinue this blog, even if my idea for an online community is successful!

Also, for the purposes of this proposed online community of consecrated virgins and discerners, the seven above-mentioned points are, for the most part, non-negotiable.

My intention in trying to start an online community is not to argue for a specific interpretation of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, but rather to encourage mutual sisterly support among consecrated virgins who already share a similar understanding of our vocation.

If you disagree with my thoughts on the most appropriate way to live out a vocation to consecrated virginity, that’s perfectly fine! You’re still more than welcome to comment on this blog.

However, I’m envisioning the proposed online community as a place where virgins who feel called to live a more “strict” or “radical” consecrated life can share our thoughts and experiences without feeling as though we constantly need to justify our desire to live a more demonstrably “consecrated” lifestyle to other participants in the community.

Easter 2011

2011-04-24T01:32:00.003-04:00

(A reading from the Easter Vigil…)

The One who has become your husband is your Maker;

his name is the LORD of hosts;

your redeemer is the Holy One of Israel,

called God of all the earth.

The LORD calls you back,

like a wife forsaken and grieved in spirit,

a wife married in youth and then cast off,

says your God.

For a brief moment I abandoned you,

but with great tenderness I will take you back.

In an outburst of wrath, for a moment

I hid my face from you;

but with enduring love I take pity on you,

says the LORD, your redeemer.

This is for me like the days of Noah,

when I swore that the waters of Noah

should never again deluge the earth;

so I have sworn not to be angry with you,

or to rebuke you.

Though the mountains leave their place

and the hills be shaken,

my love shall never leave you

nor my covenant of peace be shaken,

says the LORD, who has mercy on you.

O afflicted one, storm-battered and unconsoled,

I lay your pavements in carnelians,

and your foundations in sapphires;

I will make your battlements of rubies,

your gates of carbuncles,

and all your walls of precious stones.

All your children shall be taught by the LORD,

and great shall be the peace of your children.

In justice shall you be established,

far from the fear of oppression,

where destruction cannot come near you.

—Isaiah 54:5-14

Alice Claire’s Question

2011-04-13T14:17:00.007-04:00

Here is a question from fellow consecrated virgin Alice Claire, on my post Open Discussion on “Dedication to the Service of the Church”:

At this time I have no comments, only a question. I get the impression from your blog that you feel very strongly that the life of a consecrated virgin should be very much regimented. While such regimentation is appropriate for a religious order or society of some sort, it is not necessary, appropriate or desirable for a consecrated virgin, who is not a member of an order or a society. Our consecration as virgins presupposes that we have the maturity and integrity to live out our vocation in the world in a manner pleasing to the Lord and in keeping with the teachings of the Catholic Church. I respectfully ask why you feel so strongly about regimenting the life of a consecrated virgin.

Dear Alice Claire,

Thank you for taking the time to comment. Although I was mainly hoping to hear other consecrated virgins’ thoughts on the subject of service (since sometimes I feel as though, unfortunately, I’m the only one who has written in depth on this particular topic), this is still the kind of thoughtful discussion I had wanted to foster.

Before I write any further, I need to point out that this following post is not so much a matter of me trying to articulate an academic theological point, as much as it is a kind of cry of my heart. I don’t usually blog very much about my personal feelings, but that’s exactly what I’m doing now.

So consequently, nothing I write here should be taken as a criticism of any individual consecrated virgin. I’ve never doubted that my sisters in Christ have ever had anything but the sincerest intentions in their living out their vocations, even if I don’t always agree with certain practical interpretations of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity. The aim of this post is simply to describe the thoughts that go through my own mind.

First of all, I guess I don’t think of my ideas on consecrated virginity as calling for a truly “regimented” lifestyle. To me, “regimented” seems like it would be best used to describe the lifestyle of cloistered nuns or other religious who follow a strict horarium, a detailed Rule of Life, or an extensive set of customs.

I do believe that consecrated virgins should live what I suppose you could call a more distinctive, demonstrably “consecrated” lifestyle. In other words, I do think that our life should be different from that of an average devout Catholic laywoman.

I do not feel that it’s enough for us merely to follow the basic teachings of the Church. Rather, it would seem that our virginal consecration calls us to be specially conformed to Christ in a way that goes above and beyond the call that all the faithful receive by virtue of their baptism.

It likewise seems to me that out identity as “sacred persons” would call us to be oriented towards God and the things of God to with a more intense focus and in a more exclusive way than would be proper or possible for the vast majority of the laity.*

In light of this, I personally believe that in order to live an appropriately “consecrated” lifestyle (and one which is also in accord with our own particular charism), we consecrated virgins should live out our vocation in the following concrete ways:

- By engaging in activities which directly and explicitly advance the Church’s mission on something akin to a full-time basis (which could—but does not always necessarily have to—be accomplished by working in a Church-sponsored institution);

- By praying the full Liturgy of the Hours, spending substantial time in private prayer, incorporating some kind of penance and mortification into one’s spiritual life, and attending daily Mass wherever this is possible;

- By having some kind of serious and meaningful bond with the diocese for which one was consecrated;

- By living in a spirit of evangelical poverty through an attitude of radical detachment from earthly pleasures and through consciously choosing to maintain a very simple standard of living;

- By living in a spirit of evangelical obedience via having at least some kind of accountability to one’s bishop, and through the manifestation of one’s willingness to place the needs of the Church above one’s own personal preferences; and

- By demonstrating an openness to being known as a consecrated virgin at all times and in all places.

This could perhaps be considered a rather demanding lifestyle, and it’s one which certainly would require a great deal of discipline and personal maturity. (I would even argue that it takes more maturity for a consecrated virgin to observe these practices faithfully than it would for a consecrated virgin to live a less-structured lifestyle.)

But, I don’t think you could consider the way of life which I propose here to be an especially regimented one. Even if consecrated virgins everywhere were to model their lives on the above-mentioned points, this would still allow for a great deal of freedom and legitimate diversity—much more freedom and diversity than would be possible within a single religious congregation.

For example, I am emphatically NOT saying things like: all consecrated virgins have to be Catholic school teachers, say Vespers at exactly 5:00 pm, or fast on bread and water every Friday. It has never been my intention to make up a universal set of very detailed instructions to cover a consecrated virgin’s every waking hour; to propose that consecrated virgins all take on one common apostolate; or to argue that this vocation should be lived in exactly the same way, right down to the last detail, around the world without taking into account the different local circumstances and the unique spiritual gifts of each individual consecrated virgin.

Nor am I saying that a consecrated virgin would need to ask her bishop’s permission for every minor choice she needs to make during the day, or that a consecrated virgin would need to be specifically “commissioned” every time she wants to do a good deed for someone or help out at her parish. I’m not even suggesting that consecrated virgins should write out their own personal “rules of life” to be submitted for their bishops’ approval.

What I am suggesting is that, since consecrated virginity is a public state of consecrated life, it should involve some level of real self-sacrifice and accountability. It should not in any sense be understood as a wholly private reality.

I’m also trying to say that consecrated virginity is a vocation which significant enough to determine absolutely every aspect of our lives, and that it should never be viewed as anything along the lines of a part-time commitment. Our call to consecrated virginity should be the center around which we order our entire existence; it should not be something we try to “fit into” an already-full life.**

Unlike membership in a parish organization or a Third Order, consecrated virginity (like marriage, religious life, or priesthood) is a “first” or primary vocation.

You would never say to an earthly bride-to-be, “It would be great if you could live with your husband, or use the title ‘Mrs.,’ or aspire to raise a family—but don’t worry about trying to do these things if they don’t fit with your present work or career situation, or if you don’t feel personally ‘called’ to do them.”

This kind of advice sounds ridiculous to us, because the Catholic view of matrimony recognizes that marriage as a vocation fundamentally entails a specific way of life.

We also acknowledge that marriage, by definition, involves a total self-gift to one’s spouse. And logically, it would seem to us that this self-gift is not occurring if the spouses aren’t willing to give each other the first priority in planning the concrete details of their respective daily lives. We would never say that it’s sufficient for a married couple simply to start adopting a “married spirituality” while living in exactly the same way they did when they were single.

You could draw similar parallels with vocations to the priesthood. Could anyone imagine a bishop ordaining a man who didn’t want to engage in any kind of pastoral ministry, didn’t want to make a commitment to a diocese, and didn’t want to obey anyone, but still sought Holy Orders just because he wanted the grace of the Sacrament to enrich his personal prayer life?

But, to be brutally honest (and, once again, I’d like to remind everyone that I’m speaking only for myself and of my own personal impressions), to me it seems that people often mistakenly see consecrated virginity as being a less serious commitment than marriage, religious life, or priesthood. Either that, or consecrated virginity is viewed as being a kind of vocation designed so that you can have your cake and eat it, too.

For example…

Consecrated virgins are described as women who marry Jesus—but who can still enjoy the freedoms and conveniences of a single lifestyle.

…They should enjoy their bishops’ special attention and concern—but they shouldn’t be obligated to render any practical service to the local Church or be expected to make any binding commitments to their diocese.

…They are publicly established as icons of the Church through a beautiful liturgical ceremony—but they can’t be asked to modify the concrete details of their daily life after the ritual’s conclusion.

…Consecrated virgins are given the privilege and duty of being prayerful intercessors for the needs of the Church—but prayer is to be relegated to their free time and shouldn’t take precedence over their family or professional obligations; and what, when, and how often they pray is to be determined totally by their own inclinations and preferences.

…They sacrifice marriage and family life—but just to be on the safe side, they are ordinarily encouraged to do this only after their child-bearing years have come to a close.

Obviously, this is a very unflattering portrait of consecrated virginity. And to be sure, in my own life I have never met a consecrated virgin who discerned her vocation with this object consciously in mind.

However, I think that as ugly (and let’s hope generally inaccurate) as this description is, I think it needed to be written because, in my own experience at least, this seems to be the popular conception of consecrated virginity as a vocation.

While we shouldn’t let misunderstandings or plain ignorance cause us to lose our interior peace, I still do think that the widespread nature of this misunderstanding should give us pause. Maybe it should even be the occasion of an individual and collective examination of conscience among consecrated virgins. We need to be brave enough to ask—and honest, prudent, and discerning enough to answer—the question of whether or not this popular misconception might actually contain a grain of truth.

I remember one time a very holy priest (for whom I have enormous respect) once said to me, after I had the chance to share my vocation story with him: “But you can’t honestly compare yourself to a Missionary of Charity or a Carmelite. They sacrifice everything!…No one will ever think you’re as good as a nun.”

If you can imagine it, the priest didn’t say this in a way that was at all unkind (the conversation basically concluded with a effort to provide some pastoral encouragement by suggesting that God could still call me one day to be a Carthusian or a Poor Clare...). And for the most part I was able to brush off the unintended offensiveness of this comment by considering the context, and by remembering that one priest’s perceptions don’t dictate the objective reality of a situation.

However, the comment was still a bit disturbing to me, because it posed that same unspoken but haunting question: Could it be that serious Catholics would see me as someone who gave her life to God in half-measures…because I did in fact only give my life to God in a partial and incomplete way? Even if, by the grace of God, I was able to give myself wholly over to God in the quiet recesses of my soul, could it be that consecrated virginity, on an objective level, was not even intended as a vocation that allows a woman to make a complete gift of herself to Christ?

I am writing this as a sinner who consistently fails to meet even her own minimal expectations. I know I am not a saint. Despite the effort I put into discerning and outlining what I think a consecrated virgin’s life should look like, I would be the first to admit that my efforts to reach the perfection of charity within this way of life are always flawed at best, and that my sinfulness keeps me miles away from reaching my goal.

However, this doesn’t change the fact that complete, radical, sacrificial self-giving is still the goal to which I long to be called!

Even if I can’t ever fulfill it perfectly, I still want my vocation to be that of a total, spousal, giving of myself to Christ in every single area of my life. I desire with every fiber of my being to be called to be concretely, literally, visibly—and entirely, without reserve or exception—given over to God and the Church.

But, I have never wanted to strive for this end simply because it happens to be what I feel like doing at the moment; I want to strive for it because I have been explicitly called to do so by God, speaking through His Church.

And I wanted the chance to say “yes” to this call in a public, binding, permanent, and “official” way. Yet my thought is that if the Church were in fact to see consecrated virginity as being a “less total” vocation than marriage, priesthood, or religious life, then it wouldn’t actually be my vocation to give everything to Christ in a radical way.

I could still try to do this on my own, of course—but in that case it would just be an aspect of my own private spirituality. My formal place in the Church wouldn’t be that of one who gives her life wholly over to God, and in that specific sense I truly wouldn’t be “as good as a nun.”

I know this is a very subtle distinction (and one which probably isn’t always the most pastorally prudent thing to discuss openly). But as a young woman who’s signed up for consecrated virginity for the rest of her life, it’s one which nevertheless seems terribly important to me.

So in a nutshell:

I believe what I do about the most appropriate way of life for consecrated virgins because, first and foremost, on an objective theological level this seems to be most consistent with the Church’s teachings on the nature of the liturgy and of consecrated life in general.

The reason I feel so strongly about what I believe is because I want to give everything to Christ in an absolute and radical way; and I think that, in most cases, one of the surest signs that you are truly given over to Christ is that your commitment concretely affects the ways in which you order your exterior life.

And, I want to be wholly given over to Jesus in a way that transcends the limits of my own personal spirituality—I want it to be in response to an unambiguous call from Christ, mediated through His body, the Church.

notes:

* This is not to undermine the Church’s teaching on the universal call to holiness or to obscure the many contributions that laypeople make to the life of the Church; it’s only an acknowledgement that consecrated life is a distinct vocation with its own particular nature and purpose.

** I do understand that many consecrated virgins today were consecrated when they were middle-aged or elderly, and I’m sympathetic to the fact that many older consecrated virgins are truly unable to make major changes in their lifestyle. However, I think we should consider these situations to be the exception, and not the rule. (I also think that this is one of the strongest arguments for encouraging—or at the very least, to cease actively discouraging—vocations to consecrated virginity among younger women.)

Open Discussion on “Dedication to the Service of the Church”

2011-03-19T17:23:00.004-04:00

One of the most controversial topics I write about here on “Sponsa Christi” is what is meant concretely when Canon Law, the Church’s liturgy, and other magisterial documents describe consecrated virgins as being “dedicated to the service of the Church.”

As regular readers know, I believe that the phrase “dedicated to the service of the Church” should be understood as indicating that consecrated virgins are, under ordinary circumstances, expected to be literally dedicated (i.e., “totally given over”) to works which directly and demonstrably further the Church’s mission. Usually, I think this would mean that a consecrated virgin would be involved in some kind of Church-sponsored, or at least Church-related, work on something like a full-time basis.

Since I’ve written on this topic before, I know that there are many people who disagree with me on this—which is perfectly legitimate, since it doesn’t seem that the Church has yet issued an authoritative clarification on exactly how a consecrated virgin’s call to service should affect her day-to-day life.

However, while I respect those who have a different point of view than I do on this, there is still one element of these kinds of responses which strikes me as odd. Namely, I don’t think any of my “opponents” have ever articulated a positive theological argument as to why “dedication to the service of the Church” should be understood as meaning anything other than literal dedication to serving the Church in direct ways.

In other words, while people have often pointed out the ways in which they believe that I am wrong, I haven’t come across anyone here who has given a cogent argument as to why they believe that their differing view is right.

So, I’m trying something a little different in this post!

If you believe that for consecrated virgins, “dedication to the service of the Church” means something other than what I think it means; and if you have a cogent, positive rationale for your position, you are invited to share it here in the comment box.

But first, some ground rules:

1. Be respectful, and please presume my intelligence, education, and good will, as well that of all others here. (No one here believes the things they do because they are intellectually careless or because they somehow harbor a desire to mislead people!)

2. By posting here, you are given me permission to reprint and discuss your comment on this blog (in either this post or in a future post, depending on the volume of the responses I receive). If you have a problem with this, please refrain from participating in this discussion.

3. You must advance a whole, internally consistent interpretation by means of a positive argument. That is, it has to be an interpretation that can stand on its own. (You can’t just point out the areas in which you think that someone else is mistaken.)

4. “Because Cardinal Burke and/or the USAVC said so” is NOT an acceptable argument. If you agree with Card. Burke and/or the USACV, that’s great! But if you want to comment here, you have to be able to: 1.) articulate the precise position of Card. Burke or the USACV; and 2.) give your own arguments as to why you think that Card. Burke and/or the USACV are correct.

5. Comments are moderated, and I reserve the right to delete comments which I feel are off-topic or seriously disrespectful. Also, since my intention in creating this post is to foster wholesome mutual theological discussion, I may delete this entire post if I feel that it’s fostered an unhelpful and overly heated debate.

6. No anonymous commenting. If you have something to say, you have to be willing to sign your name (or at least pseudonym or a screen name) to it!

7. Always pray before posting!

Also, as background, here are some previous posts I’ve written on what I think it means to be “dedicated to the service of the Church”:

What Does It Mean to Be “Dedicated to the Service of the Church?”
Responses to Comments, Part I
Responses to Comments, Part II
“Being” versus “Doing”
What Does It Mean to Be “In the World?”
What if Serving the Church is Seriously Inconvenient?

Ash Wednesday 2011

2011-03-09T13:53:00.007-05:00

In their affliction, they shall look for me: “Come, let us return to the LORD, for it is he who has rent, but he will heal us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds.

He will revive us after two days; on the third day he will raise us up, to live in his presence.

Let us know, let us strive to know the LORD; as certain as the dawn is his coming, and his judgment shines forth like the light of day! He will come to us like the rain, like spring rain that waters the earth.”

— Hosea 6:1-3

(Also, check out this video of Archbishop Dolan on Ash Wednesday.)

What If Serving the Church Is Seriously Inconvenient?

2011-02-22T19:04:00.000-05:00

As regular readers of this blog well know, one facet of consecrated virginity which I find particularly meaningful is a consecrated virgin’s call to be “dedicated to the service of the Church” (a phrase taken verbatim from the Catechism of the Catholic Church from Canon Law).*

The topic of my Master’s thesis, as well the topic of many previous blog posts, was why I feel that it is most appropriate to interpret this call to service literally—i.e., that “dedication to the service of the Church” should be taken to mean that, barring extraordinary or extenuating circumstances, consecrated virgins should be committed to service which is visibly and directly Church-related on something like a full-time basis.

In a nutshell, my reason for arriving at this conclusion is that, if you interpret consecrated virgins’ call to service in a non-literal way, you’re left with two very imperfect options for understanding this aspect of the vocation: either being “dedicated to the service of the Church” means that consecrated virgins are to strive to imbue the secular “marketplace” with Christian values, making the vocation of consecrated virginity most similar in nature to membership in a secular institute; OR “dedication to the service of the Church” means that consecrated virgins are supposed to do whatever volunteer Church-related service they can fit into their schedules during their free time, making this vocation most similar in nature to membership in a secular Third Order or a in lay parish group like the Altar Rosary Society.

Understanding consecrated virginity as being most similar to secular institute membership is theologically problematic because this is an unwarranted and unjustified** superimposition of secular institutes’ specific and very modern charism (i.e., that of being a “hidden leaven” in the world) onto what is an ancient and entirely different form of consecrated life.

Seeing consecrated virginity as being most similar to membership in a secular Third Order or to a lay association is theologically problematic because it suggests that consecrated virginity is not a commitment which is significant enough or in such a way as to warrant any major changes in one’s exterior life. This is at odds with the Church’s understanding of consecrated life in general as involving a complete and total gift of self and a more radical observance of the evangelical councils than would be possible or advisable for most lay people.

But even after establishing some solid theological and canonical grounds for a literal interpretation of what it means for consecrated virgins to be “dedicated to the service of the Church,” often questions arise which relate to the purely practical aspects of this assertion. Here is one such question from a regular reader:

I have a question about working for the Church to directly advance her mission. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but not all of us live in the Archdiocese of New York, where there are numerous Catholic institutions. What about women who live in small, or even large, rural dioceses? These dioceses tend to be poorer, without a lot of resources and with few Catholic institutions. In my diocese, for instance, there is not a single Catholic health care facility. Would a consecrated virgin who was a nurse have to go to another diocese to work in a Catholic sponsored hospital? Or should she quit nursing to become a teacher in one of the few Catholic schools in the diocese, even though she has neither the interest or ability to be a good teacher? —Curious

This question is somewhat complex, in that it touches on several related but distinct issues at one time. But in my reading of this comment, is seems to me that the central question being asked here is whether or not a consecrated virgin would be obligated to serve the Church in a full-time and direct way even in situations where this would be seriously inconvenient.*** (With apologies to “Curious” if it turns out that I’m misunderstanding.)

Given my reading of the question, and assuming that it references a hypothetical situation, my own thought is that the short answer would have to be a qualified “yes.”

That is, in my own OPINION, a true “dedication to the service of the Church” in one’s home diocese is so intrinsic to the vocation of consecrated virginity “lived in the world,” that an aspiring consecrated virgin should be willing to undertake even substantial inconveniences in order to live out this aspect of her calling, or else reconsider her vocation entirely.

Further, as I see it, in order to serve one’s local Church effectively—as well as to emulate the sacrificial love and self-emptying which the Church holds as the ideal for all forms of consecrated life—it’s necessary to take into account the actual needs of one’s diocese, even if these needs do not dovetail perfectly with the kind of work which one would find the most personally fulfilling.

So, speaking purely in principle, if there was an aspiring consecrated virgin who was trained as a nurse, but who lived in a diocese where a nursing apostolate was truly and absolutely impossible, my thought would be that she should either:

- consider some other type of apostolate;
- consider moving to a diocese that did need nurses;
- consider whether or not she might actually be called to some sort of dedicated lay life (e.g., private vows); OR
- consider whether or not she might be called to some other form of consecrated life besides consecrated virginity (such as an active religious community traditionally dedicated to nursing).

But with all that being said, I have to point out that these kinds of abstract considerations are just that—considerations in the abstract. Real-life cases often have nuances which can’t be adequately taken into account within the context of a hypothetical situation.

If a potential consecrated virgin who was in the situation which “Curious” describes came to me asking for advice, I would ask her the following questions or make the following points:

1. Are you absolutely sure that there is no possibility whatsoever of you using your gifts as a nurse within some sort of Catholic institution in your diocese?

With all due respect, to be honest, I guess I have a hard time imagining that in a rural, economically poorer diocese there would be zero need for nurses—if anything, as an outside observer, it seems like such a diocese would needs nurses even more urgently than a place like New York!

Even if there aren’t any Catholic hospitals in your area, is there any other Church-related organization that could use a nurse? Maybe a crisis pregnancy center, or a nursing home, or in one of the many kinds of programs run by Catholic Charities? Is there a Catholic school that needs a school nurse? Or would you be qualified to teach nursing at a local Catholic college? Does your nursing background make it possible to become an NFP instructor? Or could you see yourself transitioning into an apostolate the focused on educating the faithful on Catholic medical ethics? (These are just a few ideas I’m coming up with off the top of my head—I’m sure there are even more possibilities.)

And, in the event that none of these “creative options” involved a paid position, would it be possible for you to work just enough hours in a secular (but Catholic-friendly!) institution to support yourself in a very simply lifestyle, while you devoted a truly substantial amount—perhaps the majority—of your time to pro bono nursing work?

2. Keep in mind that it is theoretically possible to work for the direct advancement of the Church’s mission without necessarily coming under the formal auspices of a Catholic institution. My thought is that a consecrated virgin who, with the approval of her bishop, gave herself over entirely or near-entirely to prayer or charitable works would be indisputably “dedicated to the service of the Church,” even if she wasn’t considered an official diocesan employee.

For one thing, sometimes institutions are not considered “Catholic” or “diocesan” simply because of an administrative technicality. As one example, the Georgetown Visitation Preparatory School is a girls’ high school in Washington, DC, which is run by the Visitation nuns of Georgetown. Even though the students there take theology classes, learn about Catholic values, have the opportunity to attend daily Mass, and see plenty of fully-habited nuns on campus, the school is not considered a “Catholic school,” but a “private school in the Catholic tradition.” However, this distinction is due only to comparatively minor administrative details, such as not being bound by the local diocesan-wide academic calendar.

In other words, you could hardly argue that the Visitation nuns were not serving the Church simply because their educational apostolate doesn’t include a “Catholic school.”

Likewise, the apostolates of many active religious congregations wasn’t considered an “official” work of the Church at the time of their foundation, since as emerging communities they were not recognized as being formal representatives of the Church.

E.g., when Bl. Theresa of Calcutta first went out to serve the poorest of the poor, initially she was simply performing acts of mercy on what was essentially, from a canonical point of view, her own initiate. The corporate apostolate of the Missionaries of Charity wouldn’t be recognized and formally endorsed by the Church until many years later. Yet, since Mother Theresa’s intention in working among the poor was to manifest the love of Christ, and since this can rightly be considered an extension of the Church’s charitable mission, it would be wrong to say that Mother Theresa was doing anything other than serving the Church in a direct and literal way.

Also, some forms of service don’t really lend themselves to “institutionalization.” For instance, I think it would be perfectly legitimate (albeit not very practical in a lot of cases) for a consecrated virgin to be “dedicated to the service of the Church” through an apostolate of full-time prayer in the context of a contemplative, semi-eremitic lifestyle. Yet, embarking on this particular way of life is a far cry from being hired by an institution.

Similarly, I think there are many conceivable situations where a consecrated virgin could—with the approval of her bishop—take the initiative in developing her own apostolate. I could easily imagine a consecrated virgin serving the Church through something like making vestments, tutoring disadvantaged children, writing books and free lance articles on Catholic spirituality, creating Catholic art, using her professional legal training to do advocacy work for the poor, studying psychology to become a Catholic counselor with her own private practice, and so on.

3. In some ways, to me it seems like it might actually be easier for a consecrated virgin from a small rural diocese to find a way to be directly and explicitly “dedicated to the service of the Church,” than it would be for a consecrated virgin from a large metropolitan See.

As much as I absolutely love being a part of the Archdiocese of New York, to be honest I have to admit that there are drawbacks as well as benefits to being a consecrated virgin in such a huge urban-centered archdiocese. While I appreciate, among other things, the vibrant and diverse Catholic culture here, our rich historical background, the great number of solid local religious communities, and the many nearby cultural and educational resources, at the same time the sheer size of the Archdiocese could tend to make it easier for a consecrated virgin to get “lost in the woodwork.”

On the other hand, it seems to me that an aspiring consecrated virgin from a small rural diocese would be more likely to have a vibrant, personal relationship with her bishop. This in turn could foster a more in-depth, carefully considered and truly mutual discernment of the aspiring consecrated virgin’s gifts and skills vis-à-vis the needs of the diocese.

4. Speaking as respectfully as possible, is there some aspect of your discernment you might need to reconsider?

Are you really sure that you couldn’t fulfill God’s will for you in any apostolate besides full-time nursing? When you’re being as honest as possible with yourself and with the Lord in prayer, do you feel that nursing is truly your vocation, or does it just seem to be the most logical way to use what you perceive as your gifts? While it’s important for us to be good stewards and to employ our best human judgment in using the gifts we have been given wisely, sometimes there can be a bit of a gap between what God actually does want of us and what we think would make the most sense for God to want of us.

If nursing was utterly impossible in your diocese, would moving really be all that bad? Is their another diocese where you could imagine feeling just as “at home” as the place where you live now? Or do you think God could be calling you—almost like a missionary—to pack up and move in order to love and serve Him in a place where your gifts are most needed?

Or are you sure that you’re called to be a consecrated virgin in the first place? If being a nurse is such a central component to your experience of vocation, perhaps that’s a sign that God is actually calling you to be a Sister in a congregation with a nursing apostolate. (And there are some great ones out there, like the Hawthorn Dominicans and the Little Sisters of the Poor). Or, maybe you’re called to join a secular institute, or else to make a private vow on your own.

5. Even if your diocese’s greatest, most pressing need was for Catholic school teachers, you wouldn’t necessarily have to become a teacher if you were sincerely convinced that teaching would be a completely horrible “fit” for you. While I believe that consecrated virgin are, with very few exceptions, indisputably called to be literally dedicated to direct service of the Church, I think it would be wrong to assume that consecrated virgins are necessarily called to any one specific type of apostolate (even within a particular diocese).

And although I personally don’t think that I would, in my own life, have a problem if I were asked to serve the Church in the context of a religious life-type structure of formal obedience (i.e., where you go where you’re sent, regardless of how you happen to feel about your assignment), on a theological level I actually don’t think this is the most appropriate system of ecclesial service for consecrated virgins “in the world.”

The Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity itself seems to envision a sort of mutual discernment between the bishop and the consecrated virgin in determining the exact way in which the consecrated virgin is to serve the Church. In number 2 of the gereral introduction of the Rite, it states that consecrated virgins are to “spend their time in works of penance and of mercy, in apostolic activity, and in prayer, according to their state in life and spiritual gifts” (my emphasis).

The bottom line is that, while certainly consecrated virgins should always be willing and even eager to “empty themselves” by putting the needs of their diocese above their own personal preferences, I don’t think that consecrated virgins’ call to service should ever be misunderstood as an obligation to undertake a type of work for which one is totally unsuited, unqualified, or incompetent.

Above all, we would be wrong and terribly mistaken if we were to understand a call to a life of direct, Church-related service as being anything at all like (as has at times been suggested) a way for the hierarchy to obtain cheap labor from an unquestioning celibate workforce. The theology of consecrated life, especially as it pertains to service, is so much richer than that!

As I see it, a consecrated virgin’s vocation to service is first and foremost a vocation to manifest, in a concrete manner, her spousal love of Jesus and her maternal love of the souls in her diocese. (And could anyone really argue that it would be inappropriate for a consecrated virgin to make sacrifices and “spend herself” for the sake of souls, since everyday we see natural mothers “spending themselves” for the sake of their natural children?)

A call to be “dedicated to the service of Church” is undoubtedly a call to generosity and self-sacrifice; it is emphatically NOT a call to abandon human prudence and common sense.

notes:

* See CCC 923; canon 604.1.

** I know “unwarranted” and “unjustified” might sound like inflammatory words, but I truly don’t mean them to take on this sort of tone. All I’m trying to say is that there isn’t anything in the Church’s history, tradition, or current authoritative documents which actively suggests that consecrated virginity should have a spirituality or charism similar to that of secular institutes.

*** But in referring to “seriously inconvenient” circumstances, I’m not talking about matters of life or death! If a consecrated virgin really and truly were to have absolutely no other options besides working in a secular job in order to support herself in the basic necessities of life, then of course I would not fault her for this.

Likewise, with the popular understanding of consecrated virginity being what it is right now, I think that those virgins who were consecrated when they were in their fifties, sixties, and seventies are now called simply to do the best they can in striving to live a life of service. While I personally belive that it would be commendable for an older consecrated virgin to prayerfully discern changing careers in order to devote more time to direct service of the Church, I do appreciate the fact that in many cases it may be prohibitively difficult or else gravely imprudent for middle-aged or elderly woman to seek to make such a radical change.

How Do I Make a Private Vow?

2011-02-14T10:49:00.007-05:00

Here is a question I received in the comment box of my recent post, “Consecrated Virginity versus Private Vows”:

I would like to make a private vow of virginity before making my Consecration [of] Virginity vows and was wondering if there are any private vow prayers that are already written out that I can pray. And what would you suggest of what one can do to live their private vows?

Thank You and God Bless You! —Karen

Dear Karen,

First of all, forgive me for correcting one small detail in your original question: I just have to point out that the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity doesn’t actually involve a vow per se.

Consecrated virgins do publically state their resolution to persevere in a life of perpetual virginity (this occurs twice in the Rite of Consecration: in the examination following the homily, and in the formula for the “renewal of intention” which is spoken by the candidate immediately before the central consecratory prayer). However, this commitment is not technically the same thing as a vow, although I think it would probably qualify as one of the “other sacred bonds” that Canon Law frequently mentions.

Still, the constitutive action in a solemn consecration to a life of virginity is the candidate’s RECEPTION of the prayer of consecration from a bishop. A consecrated virgin is consecrated passively by an action of the Church, much in the same way as a Church building is passively consecrated. This is in contrast to (for example) professing religious vows, as the making of a vow is an action which the candidate actively does.

Of course, there is a “passive” element in the consecration which occurs through the profession of religious vows, in that the Church must formally receive them through the witness of a duly authorized representative (such as a religious superior) in order for such vows to be valid. But in one sense, through their active profession of vows religious could almost be thought of as “consecrating themselves.” Likewise, the profession of any type of vow or promise—including private vows—is a similarly “active” action.

Even though consecration to a life of virginity does not number among the seven Sacraments, because of its “passive” nature it could perhaps be thought of as “working” like one. This is why it is generally understood that there can be no true dispensations from consecration to a life of virginity—the Church can’t “un-consecrate” a virgin anymore than she could “un-bless” a sacred object or “un-do” a Sacrament. However, a religious can in some circumstances be dispensed from his or her vows, because the Church is able to release individuals from the promises they have made and can relieve them from the obligations which these promises have subsequently imposed.*

Because the passive dynamic of consecrated virginity is so different from the active dynamic of professing vows, I would be concerned if the making of a vow per se (i.e., in the more limited technical definition of the term “vow”) was assumed to be an intrinsic part of the charism of consecrated virginity “lived in the world.” To me this would seem to run the risk of tying to fit consecrated virgins inappropriately into a paradigm proper to religious life, which could tend to undermine the uniqueness of consecrated virginity as a distinct vocation within the Church. Because of this (among other reasons), I don’t think that the profession of a private vow should ever be regarded as a mandatory step in the process of becoming a consecrated virgin.

But with all that being said, I do think that many aspiring consecrated virgins could find it spiritually and humanly helpful to make a private vow at some point in their discernment.

On a very personal note, when I was still in college I made a private, temporary vow of virginity under the guidance and with the support of a spiritual director. My motivation for doing this was mostly that, since I was absolutely head-over-heals in love with Jesus and (having been endowed with all the patience of a young twenty-something! ;-) ), I just couldn’t stand the thought of waiting any longer to make at least some sort of commitment to Him. But for other women, I can imagine how a period of living a privately-vowed commitment to dedicated virginity could be helpful as a means of testing or strengthen their resolve, or of discerning in a more concrete, practical way whether or not they truly feel called to a spousal relationship with Christ. (And my thought is that the best way for an aspiring consecrated virgin to “live out” a private vow is simply to live, as fully as possible, the lifestyle she intends to have after receiving the Rite of Consecration.)

However, I think that the decision to make a private vow as a preparation, whether remote or proximate, for receiving the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity should be between the aspiring consecrated virgin and her spiritual director. While it most cases it might also be appropriate for the aspirant to discuss this step with whoever is officially responsible for the formation of consecrated virgins in her diocese, because a private vow is essentially a matter of conscience, I don’t think there should ever be pressure to make a private vow from the “outside” (that is, in what we would call the “external forum”).**

For a woman making a private vow specifically as a preparatory step for receiving the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, my own opinion is that they should profess this vow in a very low-key kind of way. I.e., I think it would be best for her to have only a handful of witness (if that many), and to be somewhat selective with whom she shares her decision to make a private vow. My thought is that a large, festive celebration connected with a private vow might tend to undermine the actual Rite of Consecration as the principal vocational commitment in a woman’s life. Also, I would be concerned that, if aspiring consecrated virgins were very open about living under private vows, this could cause confusion among the faithful or blur the distinction between private devotional commitments and the public liturgy of the Church.

For women who do not intend to become consecrated virgins, but who choose to make a private vow of chastity or virginity because they feel called to live as privately-vowed laywomen, I think the situation is somewhat different. If your main vocation in life is to make a private vow, then by all means you should celebrate it! I think it would be very appropriate for a woman in this situation to invite her family and friends to witness her private vow, to have a party immediately afterward, or perhaps even to wear a wedding dress if she felt drawn to this. (As one example, the author of the blog “Mulier Fortis” describes her profession of private vows here.)***

For both cases—that is, aspiring consecrated virgins who make private vows during their formation or discernment, as well as women who feel called to private vows as their main vocation—here are a few points to keep in mind:

1. Private vows are private and thus non-liturgical, so the Church does not provide any pre-written formula for private vows. If you feel called to make a private vow, I strongly recommended that you write your own formula. I think this would be the most fitting course of action, anyway—since private vows are a form of personal devotion, I feel that it’s best for the words used in a private vow to come straight from the heart of the individual who will be making the vow.

2. If you need inspiration for what to write in your own private vow formula, one starting point might be to look at the various formulae used for religious vows in different communities. However, in composing a private vow formula, you should NOT include anything that suggests that your private vow is being officially accepted by an authorized authority, or in the name of the Church. It should be clear from the wording of your vow that you are engaging in what is simply a private act of personal devotion.

3. Another place to find inspiration might be in some of the writings of the saints who made private vows. But, when you write a private vow, be very honest with yourself and make sure that you’re not promising anything that’s beyond your capacity. (For example, do not read Come, Be My Light and decide to imitate Bl. Theresa of Calcutta by vowing “never to refuse God anything” under pain of mortal sin. Mother Theresa was capable of keeping this vow. Most Catholics—myself included—are not.) It’s best to show your proposed private vow formula to your spiritual director before you actually make your vow.

4. In some instances, in might be possible and desirable to make a private vow right before or right after a Mass. Especially in the case of a woman who is making a private vow as her main vocational commitment, it might even work out that she could profess her vow immediate following a small, “invitation only” Mass offered for specially her and her intentions as she comes to such a definitive point in her spiritual life. But, a private vow should NEVER be made during Mass, or in the course of any of the Church’s liturgies. This is because the Church is, as a rule, opposed to the combining of liturgical prayer and private devotions.

5. If you make a private vow, remember that while you are not canonically bound to observe it, you are still morally bound. In other words, while the laws of the Church do not specify any consequences for failing to keep a private vow, a private vow is still a serious promise made to God. Therefore, a private vow is a step which should be discerned carefully. In particular, one element which needs to be discerned is whether you should make a life-long vow, a temporary vow, or a temporary vow which will be renewed periodically, or a temporary vow which will eventually lead into a life-long vow. If something unforeseen happens in your life where you find yourself unable to honor a private vow, should you take the step of having the vow properly dispensed—which is fairly simple, since many clerics (such as the pastor of whatever parish is geographically closest to you) have the authority to dispense a member of the faithful from a private vow.

notes:

* But with all this being said, I don’t want to undermine the fact that professed religious are indeed truly and fully consecrated by their vows! If any religious would like to elaborate on the consecratory nature of the vows in the combox for this post, their input would be very welcome here.

** For those unfamiliar with this terminology, in questions and practices relating to formation, there is a distinction which always needs to be made between the “internal forum” and the “external forum.” The internal forum is basically an individual soul’s personal, interior relationship with God—i.e., the internal forum involves the kinds of things that would be discussed in spiritual direction or in the Sacrament of Penance. The internal forum is always supposed to be treated with strict—and in some cases, absolute—confidentiality. On the other hand, the external forum has to do with a person’s manifest attitudes and observable behavior. E.g., the question of whether or not someone shows up at Mass everyday is something which can be asked in the external forum; the kinds of spiritual consolations that person experiences while at Mass is something which should be discussed only in the context of the internal forum.

Because the internal forum represents the area where we are all at our most vulnerable, those in authority who would make the decision as to whether or not a candidate is to be ordained, consecrated, or professed are typically forbidden from having access to information proper to the internal forum. For example, in seminaries, the priest-professors who vote on whether or not a seminarian should go on to priesthood are not allowed to hear seminarians’ confessions under any circumstances other than danger of death.

*** I think “Mulier Fortis” is a good blog for those who are discerning life-long private vows as a vocation. But one of the only things I have a reservation about is the way that the author describes having a somewhat elaborate ceremony to renew her private vows every year. Naturally I don’t want to criticize this if it works for her and her parish, but my recommendation for someone with a vocation to life-long private vows would be to have only one vow ceremony (with possibly some commemoration of the anniversary.)

Now for something a little different…

2011-02-06T21:25:00.003-05:00

For a bit of a change of pace around here, here is a talk on World Day for Consecrated Life which I gave at my “work parish” this morning as a post-Communion reflection at the weekly children’s Mass.

For obvious reasons, it’s very different from the kinds of things I usually write. (There’s nothing quite like trying basically to summarize your Master’s thesis topic into a five-minute presentation aimed at grade-school children and their parents!) Still, I think it was about as well-received as I could have hoped—at the very least, I think it might have helped to clarify things for those parishioners who’ve been trying to figure out whether or not I’m a nun! ;-)

***

Good morning. I know many of you already know me…my name is Jenna Cooper, and I am the Director of Religious Education here at _________ parish. I am also a consecrated virgin of the Archdiocese of New York. I would like to thank Fr. ________ for inviting me to give a short talk on World Day of Consecrated Life, which parishes across the country are celebrating today. (N.b.: In the United States, there is the option of moving parish commemorations of World Day for Consecrated Life to the Sunday after the feast of the Presentation.)

World Day of Consecrated Life was instituted by Pope John Paul II in 1997 as a day to celebrate and prayerfully remember all those men and women who have offered their lives entirely to God in one of the many forms of consecrated life.

To be more specific, when we speak of the “consecrated life,” we are talking about the vocation of those who give their lives to Christ in an especially radical way. Of course, all baptized Catholics are called by God to be followers of Christ, to become holy (and even to become saints!), but consecrated men and women are called to be so focused on Jesus that they freely and joyfully sacrifice some of the best things of this life—like marriage and a family of their own—in order to give God their whole and undivided heart, mind, and attention.

Consecrated life has existed from the very beginning of the Church, and many different kinds of consecrated life have developed over the course of the past two-thousand years of our history.

For example, in the Church today we have cloistered monks and nuns, as well as individual hermits, who spend the majority of their time in silence and solitude praying for the needs of the Church and the salvation of the whole world. We have consecrated virgins (which is what I am), who are women that are called to live as brides of Christ and who dedicate their lives to prayer for, and service to, a particular diocese.

Probably the most familiar form of consecrated life to many of us here are the “active” religious Brothers and religious Sisters. Religious Brothers and religious Sisters make vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, while living in communities founded to provide specific kinds of charitable work for the Church, such as teaching, nursing, or working with the poor. Another, perhaps less familiar, form of consecrated life involves groups of priests who join together for a common apostolic purpose, like foreign missionary work, in what is called a “Society of Apostolic Life.” And these are just a few of the ways that someone might be called to serve God as a consecrated person!

At this point, you might be asking yourself, “If we’re all called to be holy, then why does the Church need consecrated life in the first place?”

Some people answer this question by pointing all the good works that consecrated men and women do for the Church. And this is certainly something we can all appreciate—consecrated persons are responsible for a lot of the schools, parishes, hospitals, soup kitchens, and other great organizations that still help a lot of people today. However, as good as these things are, they’re actually not the main reason why the Church needs consecrated life.

A better answer might be that the Church needs consecrated life because the Church always needs people dedicated to praying. This is an important point as well, since prayer is like the powerhouse of the Church—it’s what keeps all of us going, even when times are tough.

However, the best answer of all would be that the Church needs consecrated men and women, because the consecrated life is a sign and reminder of God’s love for all of us, His people.

Consecrated men and women don’t give up the chance of being married, the chance for having children, the opportunity for having nice things, and in most cases the the majority of their time and personal freedom, because they just happen to be naturally strange people who never wanted these things in the first place. No! Consecrated persons give up some of the most worthwhile things this world has to offer because they’ve fallen in love with God, and God alone is enough to fill up their heart.

This shows the whole Church that, since all of us have the love of God, we can always be filled with peace, joy, and hope, no matter what kind of challenges we face. The vocation of consecrated people is to prove with their lives that this kind of love and trust in God is not only possible, but is readily available to everyone who seeks God with a sincere heart.

To finish this talk, I would just like to point out a few things we all can do to help support consecrated life in the Church:

The first is to…

- Pray. Consecrated people spend their lives praying for you, but we’re always grateful for your prayers, too!

- You could also think about taking the time to learn more about the different ways that consecrated life is lived in the Church today.

- Parents: be open if your child is considering a vocation. Remember that if God is calling your child, He is calling them to a life of great joy.

- Young people: prayerfully consider if you might be called!

- Finally, live out your own vocation as best you can. The Church is a family, and when one of us does our best to be holy, it helps the rest of the people of God, in all vocations.

World Day of Consecrated Life 2011

2011-02-02T18:45:00.000-05:00

Here is the full text of the Holy Father’s homily for the fifteenth annual World Day of Consecrated Life (in a translation by Zenit.org). It’s a bit long, but very worthwhile! Emphases, in bold, and comments, in red, are mine.

***

Dear brothers and sisters!

In today’s feast we contemplate the Lord Jesus whom Mary and Joseph take to the Temple “to present him to the Lord.” (Luke 2:22) Revealed in this evangelical scene is the mystery of the Son of the Virgin, the consecrated One of the Father, who came into the world to carry out his will faithfully. (cf. Hebrews 10:5-7)

Simeon points to him as “light for revelation to the Gentiles,” (Luke 2:32) and proclaims with prophetic word his supreme offer to God and his final victory. (cf. Luke 2:32-35) It is the meeting of the two Testaments, the Old and the New. Jesus enters the ancient Temple, He who is the new Temple of God: He comes to visit his people, bringing to fulfillment obedience to the Law and inaugurating the end times of salvation.

It is interesting to observe close up this entrance of the Child Jesus into the solemnity of the Temple, in the great “coming and going” of so many people, seized by their endeavors: the priests and the Levites with their turns of service, the numerous devotees and pilgrims, desirous of encountering the Holy God of Israel. None of these, however, notice anything. (This is astonishing for me to think about!) Jesus is a child like others, first born son of two very simple parents. Even the priests are incapable of accepting the signs of the new and particular presence of the Messiah and Savior. (One of the challenges of becoming a consecrated virgin at this point in time is that the consecrated virginity as a vocation is frequently overlooked or misunderstood. While I don’t think that this particular difficulty is an intrinsic part of our charism (since consecrated virginity is a PUBLIC state of consecrated life), I still often find helpful in my own spirituality to strive to imitate Jesus in the humility of His Incarnation and in His willingness to be overlooked and unnoticed. The fact that some of the most awesome and glorious events in all of history could be so widely ignored reminds me that it is not human respect or esteem which makes a call from God valuable or “real.”)

Only two elderly people, Simeon and Anna, discover the great novelty. Led by the Holy Spirit, they see in that Child the fulfillment of their long expectation and vigilance. Both contemplate the light of God that comes to illumine the world, with their prophetic gaze open to the future, as proclamation of the Messiah: “Lumen ad revelationem gentium!” (Luke 2:32) In the prophetic attitude of two old people is the entire Ancient Covenant, which expresses the joy of the encounter with the Redeemer. On seeing the Child, Simeon and Anna intuit that it is in fact Him, the One Awaited. (This makes for a good examination of conscience, especially for consecrated virgins. We can ask ourselves: do we long for Him with a depth that would allow us to recognize Him instantly when He comes?)

The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple is an eloquent icon of the total donation of the life for all those men and women who are called to reproduce in the Church and in the world, through the evangelical counsels, the characteristic features of Jesus “virgin, poor and obedient.” (postsynodal apostolic exhortation Vita Consecrata, 1) That is why today’s feast was chosen by the Venerable John Paul II to celebrate the annual Day of Consecrated Life. In this context, I address a cordial and grateful greeting to Archbishop João Bráz de Aviz, whom I recently appointed prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, with the secretary and the collaborators. I greet affectionately the Superiors General present and all consecrated persons.

I would like to propose three brief thoughts for reflection on this feast. The first: the evangelical icon of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple contains the essential symbol of light; the light that, coming from Christ, shines on Mary and Joseph, on Simeon and Anna and, through them, on everyone. The Fathers of the Church linked this radiation to the spiritual journey. Consecrated life expresses this journey, in a special way as “philocalia,” love of divine beauty, reflection of the goodness of God (cf. Vita Consecrata, 19). Resplendent on Christ’s face is this beauty. “The Church contemplates the transfigured face of Christ, to be confirmed in the faith and not risk dismay before his disfigured face on the Cross ... she is the Bride before her Spouse, sharing his mystery, enveloped by his light, [from which] are gathered all his children ... But a singular experience of the light that emanates from the Word incarnate are certainly those called to the consecrated life. In fact, the profession of the evangelical counsels places them as sign and prophecy for the community of brothers and for the world.” (Vita Consecrata, 15)

In the second place, the evangelical icon manifests the prophecy, gift of the Holy Spirit. Simeon and Anna, contemplating the Child Jesus, perceive his destiny of death and resurrection for the salvation of all peoples and proclaim this mystery as universal salvation. Consecrated life is called to this prophetic witness, linked to its twofold attitude, contemplative and active. Given to consecrated men and women, in fact, is to manifest the primacy of God, passion for the Gospel practiced as a way of life and proclaimed to the poor and to the last of the earth. “In the strength of such primacy nothing can be preferred to personal love for Christ and for the poor in which He lives. True prophecy is born from God, from friendship with Him, from attentive listening to his Word in the different circumstances of history” (Vita Consecrata, 84). In this way consecrated life, in its daily living on the paths of humanity, manifests the Gospel and the Kingdom already present and operative.

In the third place, the evangelical icon of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple manifests the wisdom of Simeon and Anna, the wisdom of a life dedicated totally to the search of the face of God, of his signs, of his will; a life dedicated to listening and to proclaiming his Word.

“‘Faciem tuam, Domine, requiram’: thy face, O Lord, do I seek.” (Psalm 27:8) Hence, the consecrated person witnesses the joyful and laborious commitment, the assiduous and wise search of the divine will.” (cf. Congress for the Institutes of Consecrated Life and the Societies of Apostolic Life, Instruction the Service of Authority and Obedience. [2008], 1)

Dear brothers and sisters, be assiduous listeners of the Word, because every wisdom of life is born of the Word of the Lord! Be scrutinizers of the Word, through Lectio Divina, because consecrated life “is born from listening to the Word of God and accepting the Gospel as its norm of life. To live following the chaste, poor and obedient Christ is in this way a living ‘exegesis’ of the Word of God. The Holy Spirit, in the strength of which the Bible was written, is the same who illumines the Word of God to men and women founders with new light. From it flows every charism and every rule is an expression of it, giving origin to itineraries of Christian life marked by evangelical radicalism.” (postsynodal apostolic exhortation Verbum Domini, 83)

Today we live above all in the most developed societies, a condition often marked by a radical pluralism, by the progressive marginalization of religion from the public sphere, by a relativism that touches fundamental values. This calls for our Christian witness to be luminous and consistent and for our educational effort to be ever more attentive and generous. In particular your apostolic action, dear brothers and sisters, must become a life commitment, which accedes with persevering passion, to wisdom as truth and beauty “splendor of the truth.” Be able to orient your life with wisdom, and with trust in the inexhaustible possibilities of true education, and the intelligence and the heart of men and women of our time to the “good life of the Gospel.”

At this moment, my thought goes with special affection to all consecrated men and women, in every part of the earth, and I entrust them to the Blessed Virgin Mary:

O Mary, Mother of the Church,
I entrust to you consecrated life,
So that you will obtain for it the fullness of divine light:
That it may live in listening to the Word of God,
In the humility of the following of Jesus your Son and our Lord,
In the acceptance of the visit of the Holy Spirit,
In the daily joy of the Magnificat,
So that the Church is built by the holiness of life
Of these your sons and daughters,
In the commandment of love. Amen.

The Charism of Virginity

2011-01-26T13:25:00.004-05:00

One frequently asked question about the vocation of consecrated virginity is whether or not a consecrated virgin must be a “real” virgin.

That is, in order to receive the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, must one be a virgin in the literal sense of the term (i.e., one who has never freely and knowingly engaged in sexual relations), as opposed to simply feeling capable of adopting a “virginal” spirituality? Can a “second-chance virgin” or a “renewed virgin” become consecrated under canon 604? Or is the vocation of consecrated virginity really restricted to those who have never made even a single “bad decision?”

The short answer to this question is “yes,” an aspiring consecrated virgin should truly be virginal. However, since such a short, blunt statement can sometimes raise more problems than it solves, I’ll try to explain it in fuller and more nuanced way.

The Church’s official statement and its implications

The Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity—our only authoritative source for this issue—would seem to specify literal virginity as a requirement when it states in its introduction that a woman intending to enter this particular form of consecrated life must “have never been married or lived in public or flagrant violation of chastity” (“ut numquam nuptias celebraverint neque publice seu manifeste in statu castitati contrario vixerint”).*

Thus, the Rite is direct and unambiguous in stating that consecrated virginity is not a possibility for widows, nor for women who have reconciled with the Church after living in a notorious or highly visible state of unchastity (such as premarital cohabitation).

There is also very clear implication that women who have been victims of violence or abuse may still be consecrated as virgins, since in itself victimhood constitutes neither a violation of chastity nor a sin. This is consistent with the Church’s traditional understanding of virginity as an essentially moral and spiritual reality, rather than as a primarily biological one.

Where things can get confusing

Unfortunately, the particularly wording of the Rite on this matter is often experienced as being too vague to provide clear guidelines for other types of situations.

For example, I’ve heard it proposed a number of times that a woman who might have lost her physical virginity through a single, secret “mistake” as a teenage should still be able to receive the Rite of Consecration. The reasoning behind this suggestion is that, since moral indiscretions of this sort may be fairly hidden and unknown by the great majority of people, this does not constitute a “public or flagrant” violation of chastity.

However, at least in the United States, it’s generally understood and accepted that candidates for consecrated virginity should be virgins in actual fact.

But, in the interest of being as fair and accurate as possible, I do have to point out that at present it MIGHT perhaps still be possible to try to articulate an academic argument that the Rite of Consecration may not truly require its candidates to be literal virgins. The only instance of authoritative, formal clarification on this matter of which I am aware is a letter sent by the Congregation for Divine Worship sent to the then-Archbishop Burke confirming Burke’s interpretation of the Rite as requiring literal virginity. However, I only heard about this via a brief reference in a recorded talk from the 2008 International Pilgrimage of consecrated virgins in Rome, and I have never seen a published copy of this letter. Although I hasten to add that I do believe that this letter does exist—I’m just a little uncomfortable citing a source I’ve only heard about second- or third-hand.

If the Church truly were to have refrained from issuing a formal clarification of what is meant by “public or flagrant violation of chastity,” then right now it would still permissible for theologians and canon lawyers to entertain a variety of opinions. (Albeit with all the pastoral concerns attached to this particular question, I think it would be perhaps more advisable for even ivory-tower academic types to err on the side of caution and presume a more strict interpretation of the Rite. My thought is that is would be better not to consecrate a woman who might later find out that should could have received the Rite after all; than it would be to consecrated a woman who might in the future learn that she actually had not been eligible for consecrated virginity in the first place.)

Still, I would like to stress that on a practical level, the requirement of literal virginity is regarded as a more or less settled question among American consecrated virgins and those who work with them.

Justifying a “stricter” interpretation

Even considering the issue of the Rite’s prerequisite of literal virginity as a closed discussion, it can still be helpful to reflect on the reasons for a particular interpretation.

One rationale given for this stricter interpretation of the Rite of Consecration as requiring literal virginity is that the loss of one’s virginity never results from an act which is wholly and entirely secret. I.e., there is always at least one other person who is aware of what occurred and can attest to it. Thus, anyone who is not a literal virgin has been in an “public or flagrant violation of chastity” at some point.**

Another justification for a strict interpretation is plain common-sense with regard to the need for integrity. In other words, it doesn’t seem reasonable that the Church would, as a matter of policy, encourage woman to embrace a way of life ordered around the central charism of virginity, or regularly allow them to present themselves publically as virgins, if she didn’t have the expectation that they would be virgins in spirit and in truth.

If the Church was prepared to do this, it would effectively empty the word “virginity” of its meaning and significance—perhaps in a dynamic reminiscent of the way in which some mainline Protestant theologians have come to argue that the Gospels’ identification of Mary as a virgin simply means that she was something along the lines of “an exceptionally pure young woman.”

Likewise, as far as the candidates themselves are concerned, it’s hard to imagine (or at least it’s hard for me to imagine) how a woman could offer her virginity as a gift to God if her virginity is something which she no longer has.***

This is not to say that a non-virgin can’t offer herself to God in some other way, but only that a non-virgin can’t offer herself to God specifically by means of dedicating her virginity to Him. Trying to argue otherwise would be like saying that a woman could place her marriage under the protection of Our Lady even if she wasn’t married, or that a man could offer up his priestly ministry for the good of the souls in Purgatory even if he didn’t happen to be ordained.

Finally, at times I have seen some people give an explanation for the Rite’s requirement of literal virginity by drawing from the principles of sacramental theology. According to this line of reasoning, literal virginity is necessary to receive the Rite of Consecration validly because a virginal woman is the proper “matter” for the “form” contained in the Rite.****

But while this last explanation does make sense to me on one level, I personally would be hesitant to propose it as the rationale behind the candidate prerequisites listed in the Rite of Consecration. Although there may be some situations where it is appropriate to use sacramental terminology in reference to non-Sacraments, as far as I know the Church herself has never authoritatively described the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity in terms of matter and form. (Additionally, I’m not sure that the Church ever considers individual human persons per se as “matter,” even when discussing the matter and form involved in the actual seven Sacraments.) This application of sacramental theology to the Rite of Consecration is an interesting idea, but at the same time it’s one I wouldn’t feel comfortable endorsing, simply because to me this seems like it would be going a few steps farther then the Church actually does at present.

But, is it appropriate to require literal virginity?

Even if we take it for granted that reception of the Rite does indeed require literal virginity, I’m aware that some would still object to the idea of the Church expecting consecrated virgins to be literal virgins. Often, this is because they feel that this reduces women to their bodies, or that it places an unhelpful emphasis on women’s sexuality, as opposed to valuing them as multi-dimensional, whole persons. (Incidentally, this is often cited as the reason why many Catholics—I think including some consecrated virgins—are uncomfortable using the word “virgin” as part of the name of this vocation, despite the fact that “consecrated virginity” is the technically correct term for this form of consecrated life.)

However, I think it would be incorrect to say that the Church’s esteem for virginity is overly focused on a woman’s body to the exclusion of valuing her heart, mind, and soul.
This is because, as I mentioned above, I believe that the Church sees virginity as a primarily moral and spiritual state of being.

To be a virgin means to have a heart which is “new,” whole, and undivided. A virginal woman who marries is able to give her whole heart to her husband with a certain type of depth that goes beyond what is possible for a non-virgin. On an even more profound level, a woman who is consecrated to God as a virgin is able to offer her entire self to Christ in an especially radical, absolute, and complete way. A consecrated virgin not only gives Christ her love, but she gives Him her whole heart for her whole life. She is His and His alone.

A virginal body is the outward sign of this special kind of interior purity. Physical virginity is not the totality of what it means to be a virgin (at least in the full theological sense of having a vocation to a life of virginity), as a simple absence of experience doesn’t automatically make for an undivided heart.

Yet, this outward sign is still necessary and intrinsic to virginity as a state of being. Even while it could be argued that a non-virgin or a “renewed virgin” might, through a new life of virtue and penance, come to the point of feeling able to embrace a sort of “virginal” spirituality, I have a hard time imagining how this could be quite the same thing as the virginal spirituality of a literal virgin. As the Church has always acknowledged, our bodies and souls are interconnected, and what we do with out bodies can permanently affect our souls.

Some have also voiced concern that maintaining literal virginity as a requirement for receiving the Rite of Consecration undermines belief in the efficacy of the Sacrament of Penance (or the Sacrament of Baptism, in the case of those who convert after formerly having lived an unchaste life). That is, if we believe that in the Sacraments of Penance and Baptism we are truly forgiven of our sins, then it would also follow that after confessing and sincerely repenting from sins of unchastity, the lack of virtue in one’s past life would no longer be of any account in either God’s eyes or the eyes of the Church.

But, while the Church does continually emphasize the availability of God’s mercy and pardon to all who seek it, forgiveness from sin is not the same thing as never having sinned in the first place. For example, even while Baptism does truly free us from original sin, being Baptized does not mean that our conception becomes retroactively immaculate.

All actions have consequences, and being forgiven for a sin does not always take away the effects of our wrong choices. In particular, the Church teaches that “the martial act” has a special, tremendous significance always and in every case. Although our culture is somewhat in denial of this fact, losing one’s virginity—even in just a single, perhaps relatively hidden act—is enough to alter the course of one’s life on even a purely natural level. For example, a woman has the potential to become a mother even if she engages in “the marital act” only once in her life. Given this, it’s hardly unreasonable to suppose that the deliberate preservation of one’s literal virginity might enable a woman to live out a uniquely precious spirituality.

Of course, this is absolutely NOT to say that a non-virgin isn’t called to be a saint, or that non-virgins can’t be consecrated to God in another form of consecrated life, or even that a non-virgin couldn’t be called to some kind of spousal relationship with Christ. This is only saying that today’s consecrated virgins—like the virgins described in Revelation 14:3-4, who sing to the Lamb a totally new song, which no one else can sing—are called to offer God their hearts in a particularly unique and special way through the consecration of their virginity.

Notes:

*This line is taken from the general introduction to the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, which unfortunately isn’t included in the pdf copy of the Rite that I usually link here. But if you check in vol. II of the “Rites” book (published in 1991 by The Liturgical Press in Collegeville, MN), you can find it on page 158.
** The then-Archbishop Burke gave this explanation at the U.S. Association of Consecrated Virgins information conference I attended in August 2008.
*** Cardinal Burke also makes this point in the USACV “information packet.”
**** As background to this one point, the “form” of a Sacrament can be roughly defined as the appropriate prayers and rituals used in that Sacrament’s conferral. “Matter” is the tangible, physical material used. E.g., in the Eucharist, the “form” is the consecratory Eucharistic prayer of the Mass, and the “matter” is the bread and wine that is to become the Body and Blood of Christ. If either the matter or form are not what they should be, then the Sacrament is invalid (which basically means that the Sacrament “didn’t work”). This is why, for example, a priest can’t consecrate cookies and milk at Mass—cookies and milk simply cannot become the body and blood of Christ, because this is the incorrect matter for the Sacrament of the Eucharist.

***

Due to the delicate nature of this topic, the comment box is open, but will be strictly moderated for this post. If you are having personal difficulties in your discernment with this issue, I strongly encourage you NOT to consult the Internet, but instead talk to a good spiritual director, your confessor, or whoever is primarily responsible for working with consecrated virgins in your diocese.

Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul

2011-01-25T13:09:00.003-05:00

Here is today’s second reading from the Office of Readings, a selection from a homily on St. Paul by St. John Chrysostom. Emphases, in bold, and comments, in red, are mine.

***

Paul, more than anyone else, has shown us what man really is, and in what our nobility consists, and of what virtue this particular animal is capable. Each day he aimed ever higher; each day he rose up with greater ardor and faced with new eagerness the dangers that threatened him. He summed up his attitude in the words: I forget what is behind me and push on to what lies ahead. When he saw death imminent, he bade others share his joy: Rejoice and be glad with me! And when danger, injustice and abuse threatened, he said: I am content with weakness, mistreatment and persecution. These he called the weapons of righteousness, thus telling us that he derived immense profit from them.

Thus, amid the traps set for him by his enemies, with exultant heart he turned their every attack into a victory for himself; constantly beaten, abused and cursed, he boasted of it as though he were celebrating a triumphal procession and taking trophies home, and offered thanks to God for it all: Thanks be to God who is always victorious in us! This is why he was far more eager for the shameful abuse that his zeal in preaching brought upon him than we are for the most pleasing honors, more eager for death than we are for life, for poverty than we are for wealth; he yearned for toil far more than others yearn for rest after toil. The one thing he feared, indeed dreaded, was to offend God; nothing else could sway him. Therefore, the only thing he really wanted was always to please God.

The most important thing of all to him, however, was that he knew himself to be loved by Christ. (I think this should also be a theme in the spirituality of consecrated virgins.) Enjoying this love, he considered himself happier than anyone else; were he without it, it would be no satisfaction to be the friend of principalities and powers. He preferred to be thus loved and be the least of all, or even to be among the damned, than to be without that love and be among the great and honored.

To be separated from that love was, in his eyes, the greatest and most extraordinary of torments; the pain of that loss would alone have been hell, and endless, unbearable torture.

So too, in being loved by Christ he thought of himself as possessing life, the world, the angels, present and future, the kingdom, the promise and countless blessings. Apart from that love nothing saddened or delighted him; for nothing earthly did he regard as bitter or sweet.

Paul set no store by the things that fill our visible world, any more than a man sets value on the withered grass of the field. As for tyrannical rulers or the people enraged against him, he paid them no more heed than gnats. Death itself and pain and whatever torments might come were but child’s play to him, provided that thereby he might bear some burden for the sake of Christ.

Feast of St. Agnes 2011

2011-01-21T15:07:00.001-05:00

An ancient hymn to St. Agnes, virgin and martyr, in Latin with English translation (taken from the blog “What Does the Prayer Really Say?”)

Igne divini radians amoris
corporis sexum superavit Agnes,
et super carnem potuere carnis
claustra pudicae.

Shining with the fire of divine love
Agnes overcame the gender of her body,
and the undefiled enclosures of the flesh
prevailed over flesh.

Spiritum celsae capiunt cohortes
candidum, caeli super astra tollunt;
iungitur Sponsi thalamis pudica
sponsa beatis.

The heavenly host took up her brilliant white spirit,
and the heavens lifted it above the stars;
the chaste bride is united to the
blessed bride chambers of the Spouse.

Virgo, nunc nostrae miserere sortis
et, tuum quisquis celebrat tropaeum,
impetret sibi veniam reatus
atque salutem.

O virgin, now have pity on our lot,
and, whoever celebrates your victory day,
let him earnestly pray for forgiveness of guilt
and salvation for himself.

Redde pacatum populo precanti
principem caeli dominumque terrae
donet ut pacem pius et quietae
tempora vitae.

Give back to this praying people
the Prince of heaven and Lord of the earth,
that he, merciful, may grant us peace
and times of tranquil living.

Laudibus mitem celebremus Agnum,
casta quem sponsum sibi legit Agnes,
astra qui caeli moderatur atque
cuncta gubernat. Amen.

Let us celebrate with praises the gentle Lamb,
whom chaste Agnes binds to herself as Spouse,
he who governs the stars of heaven
and guides all things. Amen.

Feast of St. Genevieve

2011-01-03T21:04:00.002-05:00

Today is not only my second anniversary (Deo gratias!) but also my name day. Today is the feast of St. Genevieve, who is my patron saint. My real first name is “Jenna,” which my mother chose as a shortened, Americanized version of my grandmother’s name, Genevieve.

For some reason, St. Genevieve isn’t a very popular saint in the United States (although many of European Sisters of St. John whom I know have a special love for her). But she’s a wonderful saint for young women in general, and for consecrated virgins “living in the world” especially.

Here is a brief summary of her life, which I adapted slightly from the Catholic Encyclopedia entry on NewAdvent.org. Emphases in bold, and comments in red, are mine.

***

Patroness of Paris, b. at Nanterre, c. 419 or 422; d. at Paris, 512. Her feast is kept on January 3. She was the daughter of Severus and Gerontia; popular tradition represents her parents as poor peasants, though it seems more likely that they were wealthy and respectable townspeople.

In 429 St. Germain of Auxerre and St. Lupus of Troyes were sent across from Gaul to Britain to combat Pelagianism. On their way they stopped at Nanterre, a small village about eight miles from Paris. The inhabitants flocked out to welcome them, and St. Germain preached to the assembled multitude.

It chanced that the pious demeanor and thoughtfulness of a young girl among his hearers attracted his attention. After the sermon he caused the child to be brought to him, spoke to her with interest, and encouraged her to persevere in the path of virtue. (St. Germain seems to have been encouraging of young vocations!) Learning that she was anxious to devote herself to the service of God, he interviewed her parents, and foretold them that their child would lead a life of sanctity and by her example and instruction bring many virgins to consecrate themselves to God. Before parting next morning he saw her again, and on her renewing her consecration (this must have been something like a simple pledge or promise) he blessed her and gave her a medal engraved with a cross, telling her to keep it in remembrance of her dedication to Christ. He exhorted her likewise to be content with the medal, and wear it instead of her pearls and golden ornaments.

There seem to have been no convents near her village (actually, St. Genevieve lived just before the advent of western religious life properly so-called—she died about thirty years before the Rule of St. Benedict was written); and Genevieve, like so many others who wished to practice religious virtue, remained at home, leading an innocent, prayerful life. (She was an excellent example of a consecrated virgin “living in the world.” I find it wonderfully providential that my patroness had a vocation to the exact same form of consecrated life to which I was also called.) It is uncertain when she formally received the religious veil (St. Genevieve didn’t just “receive the veil”—from all appearances, it seems that she was consecrated according to an ancient version of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity). Some writers assert that it was on the occasion of St. Gregory’s return from his mission to Britain; others say she received it about her sixteenth year, along with two companions, from the hands of the Bishop of Paris.

On the death of her parents she went to Paris, and lived with her godmother. She devoted herself to works of charity and practiced severe corporal austerities, abstaining completely from flesh meat and breaking her fast only twice in the week. These mortifications she continued for over thirty years, until her ecclesiastical superiors thought it their duty to make her diminish her austerities. Many of her neighbors, filled with jealousy and envy, accused Genevieve of being an impostor and a hypocrite. Like St. Joan of Arc in later times, she had frequent communion with the other world, but her visions and prophecies were treated as frauds and deceits. Her enemies conspired to drown her; but, through the intervention of St. Germain of Auxerre, their animosity was finally overcome.

The bishop of the city appointed her to look after the welfare of the virgins dedicated to God, and by her instruction and example she led them to a high degree of sanctity. (Because of this point, I think it would be good if we consecrated virgins regularly sought St. Genevieve’s prayerful intercession as we strive to develop solid formation programs for modern aspiring consecrated virgins.)

In 451 Attila and his Huns were sweeping over Gaul; and the inhabitants of Paris prepared to flee. Genevieve encouraged them to hope and trust in God; she urged them to do works of penance, and added that if they did so the town would be spared. Her exhortations prevailed; the citizens recovered their calm, and Attila’s hordes turned off towards Orléans, leaving Paris untouched. (As a consecrated virgin from New York, I try to imitate St. Genevieve in praying for the temporal and spiritual safety of my own metropolitan area.) Some years later Merowig (Mérovée) took Paris; during the siege Genevieve distinguished herself by her charity and self- sacrifice. Through her influence Merowig and his successors, Childeric and Clovis, displayed unwonted clemency towards the citizens.

It was she, too, who first formed the plan of erecting a church in Paris in honor of Saints Peter and Paul. It was begun by Clovis at Mont-lès-Paris, shortly before his death in 511. Genevieve died the following year, and when the church was completed her body was interred within it. This fact, and the numerous miracles wrought at her tomb, caused the name of Sainte-Geneviève to be given to it. St. Genevieve’s relics were preserved in her church until the time of the French Revolution.

Through the centuries, Paris received striking proof of the efficacy of her intercession. Prayerful devotion to St. Genevieve saved the city from complete inundation in 834. And in 1129 a violent plague, known as the mal des ardents, carried off over 14,000 victims, but it ceased suddenly during a procession in her honor.

Christmas 2010

2010-12-25T10:03:00.000-05:00

1. Lo, how a rose e’er blooming,
From tender stem hath sprung!
From Jesse’s lineage coming,
As men of old have sung.
It came, a floweret bright,
Amid the cold of winter
When half spent was the night

2. Isaiah ‘twas foretold it,
The Rose I have in mind
With Mary we behold it,
The Virgin mother kind
To show God’s love aright,
She bore to us a Savior
When half spent was the night

3. The shepherds heard the story
Proclaimed by angels bright,
How Christ, the Lord of Glory
Was born on earth this night.
To Bethlehem they sped
And in the manger they found him,
As angels heralds said.

4. This Flower, whose fragrance tender
With sweetness fills the air,
Dispels with glorious splendor
The darkness everywhere;
True man, yet very God,
From Sin and death he saves us,
And lightens every load.

(And now, more singing seminarians…)

Consecrated Virginity versus Private Vows

2010-12-16T09:53:00.006-05:00

(Image: St. Catherine of Siena, a great saint who is popularly called a “consecrated virgin living in the world,” but who was actually a third-Order Dominican who professed a private vow of virginity.)

Some of the kinds of questions I’m asked most frequently, whether through email or in real life, have to do with the differences between the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity and the profession of a private vow of virginity.

Often, consecrated virginity and private vows are identified with each other—or sometimes even considered to be the same thing! However, on a theological and canonical level, reception of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity is very different from the profession of a private vow.

Consecrated virginity, like religious life, is a public state of consecration; whereas a private vow of virginity (or celibate chastity) is, by its very nature, private.

But what does this actually mean?

Basically, a state of consecration is “public” when it is recognized as being so by the proper authority in the institutional Church (for a consecrated virgin, this would be the bishop of her diocese; for a nun or religious Sister, this would be the legitimate major superior of her community). If a commitment to celibacy or virginity is NOT officially recognized in this way, then it is considered “private” or personal.

Perhaps in contrast with the more colloquial usage of these two terms, “public” and “private” commitments to perpetual virginity have less to do with how many people witness or are aware of such a commitment, as it does with whether or not that commitment was formally accepted in the name of the Church. For example, a consecrated virgin who had only the bishop present at her consecration (or a religious whose profession of vows was attended by only her superior and the required two witnesses) would still be a publically consecrated person. However, even if a woman were to make a private vow of virginity in front of hundreds of people, with her picture and her story printed in the diocesan newspaper, this would not make her private vow into a public one according to the way in which the Church uses these two terms.

Yet with all this being said, it’s also worth noting that in almost all circumstances the Church usually does intend public vows or consecrations to be “public” in the more common sense of the word. I.e., the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity and the Rite of Religious Profession both explicitly state that the faithful should be invited to attend both these rituals, and publicly consecrated persons are for the most part expected to be open about their special identity within the Church.

Conversely, those who have made private vows are generally advised not to present themselves as though they were publically consecrated persons, which in many cases can mean that they are discreet about their commitment to the evangelical counsels.

In other words, we could say that entrance into a public state of consecrated life not only involves God and the person to be consecrated, but also the Church’s magisterium and the entire visible body of Christ. But on the other hand, a private vow is essentially a matter which is for the most part between God and the individual soul.

Understanding the nature of liturgy and public consecration

From my point of view, one helpful way of understanding the difference between public and private commitments to the evangelical counsels is to reflect on the similar difference between public and private forms of prayer—that is, between the Church’s liturgy and personal devotions.

In the Catholic Church, the Divine Office, the Mass, the Sacraments, and other rites (such as the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, the rite for the consecration of a Church, the blessing of an Abbot or Abbess, ect.) are all considered liturgy. By definition, liturgy is the public, official prayer of the Church. This means that those who are engaged in praying the Church’s liturgy aren’t speaking to God in their own name as much as they are speaking to God on behalf of the Church herself. They pray, not in their own voice, but with the voice of the Church.

For instance, even while it is certainly to be hoped that Catholics who recite the Liturgy of the Hours will interiorize the psalms, canticles, and other prayer to the point where they can be said truly to “make them their own,” the Liturgy of the Hours isn’t intended as a reflection of the interior state of any one individual.

Likewise, the holy sacrifice of the Mass isn’t “about” the particular spiritual life of any one priest or parish, which is why the prayers and rubrics can’t be changed by anyone except the Holy See—even if there was a situation where an individual priest sincerely felt that an alteration to prayers of the Mass would make the liturgy subjectively more “meaningful” to his particular community.

In contrast to this, private or devotional prayers are prayers wherein we do speak to God in our own name, in our on voice, and on our own initiative. Private prayer is any prayer which is not an official prayer of the Church, and this category includes everything from silent meditative or contemplative mental prayer, to highly structured devotions such as the Rosary or the Divine Mercy chaplet.

Unlike liturgy, which is intended as a formal corporate praise of God (and which, in the case of the Sacraments, is something which makes Christ present to us in a primarily objective way), private prayer can and should be reflective of, or tailored to, our personal interior life.

For example, all Catholics are required to attend Mass at least once a week whether or not they find it emotionally fulfilling, and they can benefit spiritually from the reception of the Sacraments regardless of whether or not they feel any sensible consolation in them. But Catholics in general are NOT required to participate in devotional prayers which they don’t subjectively experience as being personally helpful.

Also, in many cases devotional prayers, since they are considered private or non-liturgical prayers, can be freely modified according to the particular spiritual needs of the people in a given situation. (This is one reason why there are so many minor variations of how to say the Rosary.) And of course, if we’re engaging in something like silent meditation or making a Holy Hour, most of the time we should try to share with the Lord those things which truly are in our own hearts, instead of to make our conversation with Christ fit a pre-fabricated pious formula.

But even though private devotions aren’t the Church’s official prayer, this doesn’t mean that they are not worthwhile or valuable with respect to our relationship with God. While the Church doesn’t mandate set devotional prayers, she does encourage them insofar as they assist the faithful in developing a more fervent and affective prayer life, or in fostering a greater understanding of certain Christian mysteries (such as the Pascal mystery or the mystery of the Incarnation).

Because of this, private prayer should not be looked down upon as being somehow “not real prayer” because of its non-liturgical character. Whether we’re praying in the name of His Church or on our own behalf, God hears and appreciates all of our petitions, our efforts to adore or thank Him, and our acts of repentance. To further illustrate this point, it would be absurd to suppose that God would ignore a cry for help from one of His children simply because the request wasn’t included in the general intercessions of the Mass, or that God would fail to be pleased by a spontaneous act of praise.

Yet at the same time, it’s important that we respect the special nature and dignity of liturgical prayer. When we participate in Mass, the Sacraments, the Divine Office, or any other liturgical ritual, it’s important that we be aware of the fact that we are involved in something much larger than ourselves. While certainly we should be as personally, interiorly engaged in liturgy as is possible for us in our own circumstances and stage of spiritual maturity, liturgical prayer is something fundamentally outside of ourselves.

Therefore, in liturgical situations, we should strive to conform ourselves to the Church’s prayers, as opposed to regarding our individual spiritual needs as the standards to which the Church should cater.

For example, the Sacrament of Baptism is a call to a new life in Christ which comes from an authority external to us. It is NOT our way to express the feelings of renewal which we have had from a conversion experience. This is not to say that these feelings need to be altogether ignored (certainly, one should take the time to thank God for His gift of consolation in this instance), but only that the Church’s public prayers are neither the appropriate vehicle nor the appropriate context for such self-expression.

Likewise, public states of consecrated life—which are inherently liturgical—should never be seen as pertaining solely to the interior life of an individual. A vocation to a canonical form of consecrated life originates from God and is first perceived by the individual soul, but it is confirmed and mediated by the authority of the visible, institutional Church.

This is not the case with a private vow of celibacy or virginity. A woman who makes a private vow of virginity may in all likelihood be responding to a genuine inspiration of the Holy Spirit; however, this importation would be considered and entirely private, personal, and interior matter, which the institutional Church will not take upon herself to confirm formally.

Discerning a vocation to consecrated virginity versus private vows

Like devotional prayers, private vows are considered personal responses to individual spiritual needs. Because of this, the Church does not impose any obligations (besides those to which all the baptized are bound) upon the privately vowed, since private vows pertain only to the individual soul’s interior relationship with God. While the Church looks favorably on the practice of professing private vows insofar as it helps certain members of the faithful to grow in holiness, the Church does not consider the privately-vowed to be “consecrated” according to Canon Law.

This does NOT mean that a private vow is any less “real” than a public form of consecration; a private vow can in many cases be on, a subjective level, as much (or more!) of a self-gift to God as the self-offering which occurs during the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity. A private vow of perpetual virginity is still a serious promise made to God, which should not be taken lightly.

On the other hand, a vocation to consecrated virginity (or religious life, or any public state of life within the Church) can never be simply “between Jesus and me.” A consecrated virgin is consecrated through the ministry of the Church by means of a public prayer of the Church. Her vocation doesn’t “belong” to her as much as it belongs to the entire people of God.

As a result, a consecrated virgin is called to bear an especially radical Christian witness, to represent the Church in a more explicit way, and to be more directly and intimately involved in furthering the Church’s mission. Because of the public nature of her vocation to consecrated life, she needs to go “above and beyond” the common baptismal consecration to Christ.

With this in mind, in my OPINION, generally speaking a woman may have a vocation to consecrated virginity if she:

- feels a definite, specific call to live and be known as a spouse of Christ with an explicitly “bridal” spirituality;
- feels called to a life of public witness, and is willing and able to be open about her vocation at all times and with everyone she meets;
- feels a special attraction to the Liturgy of the Hours, and is willing and able to recite the Divine Office every day;
- feels called to live a demonstrably “consecrated” lifestyle, and is willing and able to live in the spirit of evangelical poverty and obedience;
- feels called to devote her life to work which directly advances the Church’s mission;
- feels special spiritual bond with the local Church, and is willing and able to spend her life at the service of God’s people within the diocese where she is to be consecrated;

- is emotionally well-balanced, in good mental health, and has adequate social skills (i.e., she could have lived community);
- is willing and able to learn and to be open to formation.

On the other hand, my thought is that simply making a life-long, private vow of virginity would be a better course of action for a woman who:

- feels called to live as a spouse of Christ, but in a subtle, more “under the radar”-type way;
- OR feels that her own individual call to be a bride of Christ is meant to be a essentially a personal matter between herself and the Lord, and thus something which should involve only a very minimal degree of formal structure or official recognition;
- OR feels a special call to “evangelize the world from within” as a “hidden leaven” in the midst of secular society;
- OR feels called to offer her heart entirely to Christ, while at the same time using her gifts to strive for excellence within a purely secular career;
- OR feels that her primary vocation (i.e., that around which she is to order her life and base all her major decisions) is to some particular apostolic work, and therefore sees a spousal relationship with Christ as a somewhat “secondary” vocation, but who still desires to offer herself to Christ in a way that excludes human marriage;
- OR feels that her primary vocation, or at least a majorly significant component of her call to be a bride of Christ, is membership the secular third Order of a religious community (quick fact: St. Catherine of Siena actually was NOT a consecrated virgin, but was instead a lay third-Order Dominican who made a private vow of perpetual virginity).

Because private vows are, in essence, a wholly personal and individual response to the love of God, there are as many ways to live out a private vow of virginity as there are souls who are called to profess one.

And as a side note: since the profession of a private vow can legitimately be viewed as being primarily oriented towards the personal consolation of an individual soul, a woman can make a private vow of virginity in whatever way is most helpful to her. For example, a woman could promise her virginity to God when she’s alone in her room and without telling anyone; OR she could make a private vow in a Church, while wearing wedding dress, with all her family and friends as witnesses, and then celebrate with a party afterwards.

So even while consecrated virginity is often misunderstood as being something like a more elaborate or an “official” private vow, nothing could be further from the truth. Consecrated virgins must be consecrated by a bishop according to the specific liturgical rite approved by the Church, and I believe that in their subsequent consecrated lives they are obligated to place the good of the Church even above some of their subjective affective spiritual needs.

And finally, my thought is that the Church has a right to expect certain things from her consecrated virgins (such as intercessory prayer, a life of service, and a specifically “consecrated” witness); whereas the only thing the Church can ask of a privately-vowed woman is that she, along with the rest of the baptized, continue to grow in holiness.

Gaudete!

2010-12-12T15:24:00.005-05:00

In honor of Gaudete Sunday, here is a clip from a recent “Lessons and Carols” concert of the seminarians from the St. John Neumann residence in Yonkers, New York:

The Neumann seminarians gave several other performances at different parishes around the Archdiocese as a fundraiser to help defray the costs of traveling to World Youth Day in Spain in 2011. Not only was the music beautiful, but it was tremendously encouraging to see so many fine young men seriously discerning priesthood here in New York.

The St. John Neumann residence is the college seminary of the Archdiocese of New York. The men of Neumann either work towards bachelor’s degrees at local Catholic colleges or take in-house Philosophy classes in preparation for their four years of theologate (major seminary).

You can see other clips of “Lessons and Carols” on the St. John Neumann residence’s YouTube channel. (And If you happen to be interested offering financial support for the New York seminarians’ World Youth Day trip, you can contact the Neumann vocation directors/formation advisors via their Vocations website.)

Cardinal Burke on St. Cecilia

2010-12-05T19:51:00.006-05:00

I’m a little late in posting this, but better late than never!

After the most recent Consistory, the newly-established Raymond Card. Burke’s celebrated a Mass of Thanksgiving at the North American College, a residence for American and Canadian seminarians studying in Rome. Coincidentally, the date of this Mass happened to fall on the feast of St. Cecilia. Here is the first part of the (lengthy but quite worthwhile) homily, which I found to be particularly moving for me in my vocation as a consecrated virgin.

There’s also a good article on Cardinal Burke’s Mass of Thanksgiving at the St. Louis Review, and you can read the full text of the homily in several places online, including here and here.

Comments in red and emphases in bold are mine.

***

Solemn Mass of Thanksgiving on the occasion of the Ordinary Public Consistory, November 20, 2010 - Memorial of Saint Cecilia, Virgin and Martyr

Praised be Jesus Christ, now and for ever. Amen.

Saint Cecilia whose memory we celebrate today was a wise virgin who carefully provided oil for her lamp, so that when her Lord came, He found her waiting and ready to meet Him with her lamp burning brightly. We know little about her life, but, from tradition, we know the essence of her heroic holiness. She was a young Roman maiden, who was raised in the Christian faith.

She, in fact, developed so strongly in her love of our Lord, through prayer and penance, that she resolved to offer her virginity to Our Lord as a perpetual gift, that is, to espouse our Lord alone as her Bridegroom for ever. Contrary to her resolve, her father insisted that she marry a certain pagan by the name of Valerian, but, on the day of her wedding, we are told that “amid the music and rejoicing of the guests, Cecilia sat apart, singing to God in her heart and praying for help in her predicament.”

One imagines that she was praying the words of the Psalms according to the ancient chant of the Church, which developed organically from the chant used in Jewish worship and continues today to be singularly suited to the raising of our minds and hearts to the Lord. (I think here Card. Burke might be referencing modern consecrated virgins’ vocation to recite the Liturgy of the Hours.)

The Lord heard her prayer, made even more pure and beautiful because it was offered to Him in sacred song. Through the help of an angel, her new husband was converted to the faith and received Baptism at the hands of the Bishop of Rome, Pope Urban. Having come to life in Christ through Baptism, Valerian fully respected Cecilia’s virginal consecration. With Saint Cecilia, he rapidly grew in pure and selfless love, and soon gave, with her, the supreme witness of total and faithful love of our Lord by accepting a cruel martyrdom for the faith.

In the life of Saint Cecilia, we see fulfilled, in a most striking manner, the promise of our Lord’s immeasurable and ceaseless love of all men, without exception, the divine love which we celebrate most fully and perfectly in this Eucharistic Sacrifice. Our Lord promises His holy people: “I will espouse you to me forever: I will espouse you in right and in justice, in love and in mercy; I will espouse you in fidelity, and you shall know the Lord.” (Hosea 2:19-20)

Our Lord called Saint Cecilia to espouse Him in love, to offer to Him her virginity, her whole being. Saint Cecilia responded with all her heart, placing her heart completely into the glorious pierced Heart of our Lord. In the Sacred Heart of Jesus, her love was purified and strengthened, so that the witness of her virginal love reached its fullness with the crown of martyrdom. The pure white of her love as a virgin found its consummation in the courageous scarlet of her love as a martyr for the faith.

The life and martyrdom of Saint Cecilia, in the few details which have come to us, like the life of every consecrated virgin, teaches each of us the reality of Christ’s love in our lives, a love which invites us to espouse Him, to be one in heart with Him in loving one another as He loves us, purely and selflessly.

Saint Cecilia, by her virginal consecration, teaches all of us the way in which Our Lord is calling us to give ourselves to Him and to His Mystical Body, the Church, and to all men, in love, whether we are called to lifelong, faithful and fruitful love in the married life, in the dedicated single life, in the consecrated life or in the priesthood. (As probably most of my regular readers know, Cardinal Burke was formerly the episcopal moderator for the United States Association of Consecrated Virgins when he was a bishop in the U.S.A. Although I respectfully disagree with some of his interpretations of canon 604, I’m very grateful for his efforts to foster a greater appreciation of the theological and ecclesiological value of consecrated virginity.)

On her feast day, we ask Saint Cecilia to pray for us, so that each of us will remain steadfast in responding to our vocation in life, so that we will never fail to provide oil for our lamps, so that, each and every day, Our Lord will find us waiting and ready to welcome Him, with our lamps burning brightly. We pray, through the intercession of Saint Cecilia, that Our Lord will find us always ready to give our hearts completely to Him.

Providentially, our celebration of the memory of Saint Cecilia coincides with the day on which we offer to our Lord the Holy Mass in thanksgiving for the Ordinary Public Consistory, held on this past Saturday, during which our Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI created new Cardinals to assist him in his shepherd’s care of the universal Church. The distinctive vesture of the Cardinal, the scarlet biretta and cassock, uncover the meaning of the position to which he is elevated.

The purity and selflessness of the Cardinal’s love of the Church, to whom he, as a priest, is espoused in a way analogous to the consecrated virgin, must be further purified and strengthened, in order that, in the words of the Successor of Saint Peter at the imposition of the cardinalitial biretta, the Cardinal may show himself to be “intrepid, even to the shedding of his blood for the building up of the Christian faith, the peace and harmony of the People of God, and the freedom and the extension of the Holy Roman Church.”*

The Cardinal has a particular bond with the virgin martyrs. They are a sterling example to him of how he is to love Christ and the Church, while, at the same time, they intercede powerfully for him, so that he may be a sign to the faithful of our Lord’s ceaseless and immeasurable love, “to the end,” (John 13:1) to the very outpouring of His life for us, on Calvary, His Sacrifice made ever present for us in the Holy Eucharist.

* This is a quote from Pope Benedict XVI at this past Consistory

Prayer Request

2010-11-30T10:10:00.004-05:00

Please remember in your prayers Philip Johnson, a seminarian from the Diocese of Raleigh, North Carolina. Philip—who is a “diocesan brother” of one of my best friends from college—is fighting inoperable brain cancer. Bishop Michael Burbidge of Raleigh has requested that his entire diocese pray a novena to the Immaculate Conception on Philip’s behalf.

Here is the novena (which is a beautiful way to begin Advent, by the way), in case any blog readers would like to “jump on”:

Father all-powerful and ever-living God,
You chose the Immaculate Virgin Mary,
the mother of your Son, to be the mother and help of all Christians.

As she endured her bitter agony
at the cross of her Son, she was consoled by you
with the hope of His resurrection.

Now, in heaven
she consoles with a mother’s love all who turn to her with faith,
until the day of the Lord dawns in glory.

(The Memorare:)

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary,
That never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection,
Implored your help or sought your intercession,
Was left unaided.

Inspired with this confidence,
I fly to you, O Virgin of virgins, my Mother;
To you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful

O Mother of the Word Incarnate,
Despise not my petitions,
But in your mercy hear and answer me.

(We Pray:)

O Mother of the Word Incarnate,
We are filled with confidence that your prayers on our behalf
Will be graciously heard before the throne of God.
Bring our seminarian, Philip Johnson, healing, peace, courage and strength
As he shares in the suffering of your Son.
O Glorious Mother of God,
In memory of your joyous Immaculate Conception,
Hear our prayers and obtain for us our petition.

Amen.

Feast of St. Cecilia

2010-11-22T12:43:00.004-05:00

Today is the feast of St. Cecilia, an early consecrated virgin and martyr, whose name is one of the many included in the Roman Canon (a.ka. Eucharistic Prayer I). Her memorial is the first of a series of consecrated virgin saints’ feast days which will continue throughout the winter months.

Although St. Cecilia was a consecrated virgin “living in the world”—which makes her one of my spiritual “sisters”—she is also the patroness of the Nashville Dominicans, as well as (I believe) a patroness for second Order cloistered Dominican nuns.

And so, shamelessly “borrowing” from the Nashville Dominicans’ vocation website, here is a brief but lovely biography of today’s saint:

***

Cecilia’s story is well guarded by long-standing tradition, which presents to us a young Christian girl with an undying faith in an era when faith was an unpopular and dangerous virtue. Born to pagan parents, and perhaps converted through the instrumentality of a Christian nurse, Cecilia was raised in a noble Roman home during a time of persecution.

We are told that, according to custom, Cecilia’s parents arranged for her to marry a young patrician named Valerian. Cecilia, however, had already vowed her virginity to God, desiring to root herself even more deeply in her Baptismal consecration. On her wedding night, she resolutely explained her vow to Valerian, whose initial anger and confusion were transformed into conversion under the influence of his wife’s strong faith and the instruction of the Christian bishop. Valerian and Cecilia subsequently helped to convert Valerian’s brother Tiburtius, and the three became known for their works of charity and their lives of Christian virtue.

Though arrested and threatened with execution because of their practice of Christianity, Valerian and Tiburtius refused to deny their faith. They were cruelly martyred, but not before they had succeeded in converting their executioner, who had been profoundly affected by the steadfast example of the other young men. Cecilia’s arrest soon followed. Despite the fact that the Roman prefect attempted to persuade her toward more “politically correct” behavior, Cecilia refused to submit. After a failed attempt to suffocate her in a heated bath in her own home, an executioner was sent to behead her.

Three blows mortally wounded Cecilia, yet failed to kill her immediately, and she survived for three days. We are told that, even in her dying condition, she continued to offer the witness of a vibrant faith, hope and charity that would not die. Cecilia bequeathed her possessions to the poor and her home to the Church, to be used as a house of worship.

In 821 A.D. Pope Paschal I had Cecilia’s body removed from its burial place in the Catacomb of St. Callistus—where it was found incorrupt—and reinterred under the altar in the Basilica of St. Cecilia. Almost seven centuries later, in 1599, the titular bishop of the basilica, wishing to enlarge and decorate the structure, excavated beneath the altar and opened Cecilia’s coffin as well as her husband’s. All present were deeply moved when they saw Cecilia’s body, still perfectly incorrupt, lying on her right side as naturally as if she were asleep. The sculptor Stefano Maderno was commissioned to carve the saint in this position of her martyrdom.

To His glory, He who is glorified in His saints would not allow “His beloved to know decay” (Psalm 16)—a sign to all virgins consecrated to Christ, of their Spouse’s enduring love. ... Cecilia’s music is the eternal heavenly call, which sounds in the soul despite the noise and pressures of the world, inspiring the bride to an unshakeable vow of love even unto death.

Archbishop Dolan on the Communion of Saints

2010-11-01T12:39:00.004-04:00

(Image: Christ as the vine with many braches, cf. John 15:5.)

In honor of today’s Solemnity of All Saints, here is the most recent post from Archbishop Dolan’s blog, “The Gospel in the Digital Age.” Emphases, in bold, are mine.

***
The Greatest Family of All

If it were not so sad, it would only evoke the response of a yawn. I’m talking about the most recent Hollywood star who was “raised a Catholic” but now, as an “enlightened, liberated” adult, has shed his or her faith for some toney, exotic “New Age” movement. I watched her tell the talk-show host how she had left the faith of her family because it left her so “isolated” and “out of touch” with the cosmos. Seems her new religion is big on the “inherent harmony of the universe,” which provides a valuable sense of unity for her. She finds it provides her a real feeling of closeness to all of those who have gone before her and are now in eternity, and a union with all her brothers and sisters throughout the world who share her belief.

This is new? Was she home with the measles when the Catholic doctrine of the communion of saints was covered in her religion class? We Catholics have believed in this “inherent harmony of the universe” for two millennia, and at the heart of our faith is a sense of union with God, with the faithful departed, with the saints in heaven, and with all of our brothers and sisters in the Church throughout the world.

Of course, this wonderful doctrine of the communion of saints comes to mind these pleasant days of fall. November 1st is All Saints Day, as we praise God for all those citizens of heaven, all members of the “Church triumphant” who now reign with Christ the King in paradise. On November 2nd we observe All Souls Day, as we remember with reverence and gratitude those who have died, whether they are now with Jesus in heaven, or await their goal of heaven as they undergo a period of purification in purgatory, members of the “Church suffering,” who deserve our prayers. We on earth then comprise the “Church militant,” as we continue to persevere in grace, fighting the ancient enemies of sin, Satan, and selfishness.

Thus, we belong to the greatest family of all, the communion of saints, and are intimately united to all who share residence in the household of the faith. The limits of time and space fade away in this deep unity, and never do we feel alone or isolated. All creation is in harmony under Christ the King, whom we hail the last Sunday of this month of November.

I can only pray that our friend in Hollywood rediscovers this ancient doctrine of the Church, and that we of the “Church militant” use this upcoming month of November to honor the saints, pray for the dead, and savor the sense of communion with Christ the King and all His disciples which comes from belonging to the Church.

A Dress Code for Consecrated Virgins?

2010-10-24T16:30:00.003-04:00

Here’s a comment from reader on this post, which I received back in July:

“If consecrated virgins are to live a life that is readily identifiable as consecrated, what about their appearance? Should they wear some kind of habit, or at least have a dress code? While some consecrated virgins I know dress very simply and appropriately, others follow the fashions including make-up, jewelry, even immodest styles, or sloppy jeans and T-shirts.” —Curious

While questions of what to wear certainly aren’t the most profound or significant issues with which I have to contend in my life as a consecrated virgin, figuring out how to dress in a way appropriate with respect to my vocation isn’t totally unimportant, either.

For one thing, since I do have to get dressed every day, the question of what to wear is a necessary one, as it’s impossible to avoid. Also, what we wear does say something to the world about who we are and how we see ourselves. Hopefully it goes without saying here that clothes don’t make the man (or the woman). But because it is a kind of self-expression, our choice of clothing does merit at least some consideration.

First, a few words about the “elephant in the room” in any discussion on consecrated virgins’ clothing—consecrated virgins “living in the world” and religious habits:

I actually don’t think that non-monastic consecrated virgins should aspire to wear “habits” per se, because a habit is a mark of membership in the spiritual family of a religious Order or congregation. That is, I don’t think that consecrated virgins should attach a lot of importance to specific articles of clothing in the way that, for example: Dominicans and Carmelites treasure their respective scapulars; Franciscans wear a knotted cord cincture, or the way that some congregations (e.g., the Redeptoristine nuns or the Holy Spirit Adoration Sisters) have a tradition of wearing a specific color in honor of the particular Christian mystery around which their charism is centered.

Unlike members of religious communities, the spirituality of consecrated virgins isn’t rooted in any one particular set of historical circumstances (other than the foundation of the Church, that is!) or in the unique spirituality of a particular founder or foundress. So I don’t think it would be correct for consecrated virgins to have a practice of dressing in a way which was reminiscent of a particular time in history in such a way that specially highlights any one specific spiritual devotion or mystery of the faith.

Additionally, while of course consecrated virgins should strive to foster amongst themselves a sense of sisterhood in their common vocation, consecrated virgins aren’t bound to each other in the same strong sense as nuns and religious sisters are. Therefore, I think that the family-type relationship expressed by a common habit is something truly proper only to religious life, or perhaps also other communal forms of consecrated life.

However, all other things being equal and considering the question in the abstract, I would be in favor of consecrated virgins wearing some kind of distinctive clothing, or possibly even distinctive clothing which was uniform within a given diocese. (The difference between a proposed diocesan-wide distinctive “uniform” for consecrated virgins and a habit properly so-called would I think be very similar to the difference between a religious habit and the clerical garb worn by diocesan priests and religious priests who aren’t in habit. I.e., a clerical collar and a cassock or black suit marks the wearer as a priest, but not as Franciscan, Dominican, Carmelite, ect.)

Also, I personally think it would be wonderful if it became an established custom for consecrated virgins to wear some sort of veil as part of their every-day attire. On a theological level, I think it would be especially fitting for consecrated virgins to wear veils because of the rich symbolism behind such a practice; because the veil is an ancient and venerable insignia of the Order of Virgins,* and because the reception of the veil is a part of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity.

Contrary to popular belief, and while obviously there are no authoritative documents which suggest that consecrated virgins should wear be required to wear “habits,” the Church has also never stated anywhere that consecrated virgins are forbidden from wearing distinctive clothing which identifies them as consecrated persons.

Right now, the question of identifying garb is left entirely to the discretion of the local Ordinary. In other words, it is completely up to individual bishops to decide if the consecrated virgins in their respective dioceses will wear special clothing, and I believe that the bishop would even have the right to require that the consecrated virgins under his care wear distinctive garb. (In fact, apparently few bishops in the United States, such as Bishop Jenky in the diocese of Peoria, Illinois, actually have asked that the virgins consecrated in his diocese wear veils full-time.)

I think that, in many cases, it would be most fitting for consecrated virgins—who have, after all, freely entered into a PUBLIC state of consecrated life—to wear distinctive, identifying garb, because of the value of such a visible consecrated Christian witness to the modern Church. As mentioned in countless articles and reflections such as this one and this one, people today are often hungry to see obvious reminders that the Holy Spirit still inspires men and women to offer their entire lives to Him.

Yet at the same time, regular readers of this blog have probably noticed that (aside from my ring the mantilla I started wearing to Mass after I was consecrated) I myself do not presently wear any distinctive clothing. My reasoning for this is that, since consecrated virginity is still in some sense a very “new” vocation, there are legitimate pastoral concerns to be taken into account—concerns which I feel outweigh my theoretical ideas on the preferable garb for consecrated virgins “living in the world.”

Namely, due to the widespread popular understanding of consecrated virginity—or more accurately, the lack thereof—right now I’m inclined to err on the side of discretion to avoid confusing the faithful in an unhelpful way.

However, I don’t think that it’s totally unrealistic to imagine that in several years time the pastoral situation might be different in such a way where consecrated virgins wearing distinctive garb would be generally considered a wholly helpful influence in the life of a diocese.

Given this, for me personally the bottom line is that: I’m very open to the idea of wearing a veil or some kind of “habit.” But, I don’t presently have any plans to do this in the foreseeable future. So for at least the time being, I do have to pick out my own clothes in the normal way.

Admittedly, I have found it a bit challenging at times to determine the best way to dress as a non-habited but publicly consecrated woman. The following portion of this post reflects my own ideas about this, and is the fruit of my individual discernment on the matter (which is open to on-going refinement, by the way). It represents my thoughts on the best practical approach to a totally practical question, and NOT anything like a restatement of an official Church doctrinal teaching.

Therefore, while I hope that some consecrated virgin- or aspiring consecrated virgin-readers find this helpful, please feel free to disagree with me in the comment box! I would be very interested to hear how other consecrated virgins (or candidates) have dealt with the issue of how to choose one’s day-to-day clothing.

In a nutshell, I feel that it is important for consecrated virgins to dress in such a way which could be described as modest, simple, tasteful, and practical:

Modest – Of course, all Catholic women are supposed to dress modestly, but I think that I would be justified in saying that consecrated virgins are ordinarily called to take modesty one step further than Catholic laywomen. Not only are consecrated virgins called to dress in such a way so as not to distract the men around us, but the clothing we wear should convey the clear message that we are not romantically available to any mortal man on this planet.

For me specifically as a consecrated virgin (and please note that I am not, not, NOT trying to define the appropriate standards of modesty for Catholic women in general—that’s one minefield I’ll best leave to other bloggers!), this means that I follow all the obvious guidelines: I would never wear anything skin-tight, see-through, midriff-bearing, blatantly provocative, or any permutation of “underwear as outerwear.”

Beyond this, all my skirts are knee-length or longer; and all my shirts, dresses, and tops cover my shoulders. I don’t wear any low- or lower-cut shirts, even those which wouldn’t seem immodest on my mother or sister. My clothes aren’t really baggy, but I don’t think I would ever wear anything truly form-fitting.

Simple – I also think that consecrated virgins should have simplicity as their “look.”
In addition to choosing clothes which celebrate the virtue of chastity, I think it’s just as important for consecrated virgins to dress in a way that reflects a spirit of evangelical poverty.

Speaking for myself, I never wear any jewelry besides my consecration ring and a small silver cross necklace. I don’t use cosmetics or wear any makeup at all, unless you count colorless moisturizer and lip balm in the winter. My hair is long, but besides keeping it clean and trimmed, I don’t do anything special to it and I try to arrange it as simply as possible. The things I use to put my hair up or tie it back are strictly utilitarian—I don’t use fancy barrettes or hair ornaments of any sort.

I also tend to favor clothing which is white, dark, or in muted colors, though I do have a few exceptions in my closet.

When I was younger, I used to love to wear skirts with bold floral prints. I still wear these once in a while (though I find myself feeling less and less comfortable in them), since I generally try to wear my clothes until they wear out. But now, whenever I have to buy new clothes, I stick to solid colors or occasionally some very simple prints such as small dots or pinstripes. In other words, I try to avoid giving the impression of having brilliant plumage!

I’m not against buying wardrobe staples (like shoes or a suit jacket) which are slightly more expensive if they’re well-made and will last for many years. However, as a rule, I don’t think that consecrated virgins should spend lot of money on clothes. For us, shopping should NOT be a recreational activity; and if we’re drawn towards flashy or designer clothes then something is wrong.

Also, we should be careful not to buy or accumulate more than we actually need. For example, women in general (at least in the United States) are notorious for collecting a lot of shoes and handbags. I think this is fairly harmless for most women, but it is hardly appropriate for a consecrated virgin. Speaking for myself, I try not to have more than one purse and one or two pairs of shoes at one time. My own personal rule of thumb for looking presentable while owning fewer clothes is to buy ONLY things that are easy to mix-and-match, and which will never go out of style (which usually means that they were never truly in style in the first place!)

Since modest and simple clothes are so hard to find these days, I wouldn’t have a problem “stocking up” if I came across something like a sale of really practical items. But, in my opinion consecrated virgins should not buy clothes just for fun. We need to be able to determine the difference between needs—even if these needs are just in the foreseeable future—and wants, and then buy our clothes accordingly.

Tasteful – Consecrated virgins are public representatives of the Church, and so beyond dressing modestly and simply, I think it’s also important that we dress in a way that would readily be regarded as presentable, appropriately feminine, and elegant (albeit elegant in a very plain way).

For me, “presentable” means that we as consecrated virgins should always try to look clean, neat, and “put together,” whenever we leave the house. This doesn’t mean that I don a business suit just to run out to the grocery store, but I think it does mean that whenever we go out in public we should always dress with the appropriate level of formality and “polish” (in accord with the particular occasion) which befits someone who lives her life as a “sign” or “icon” of the Church.

Also, since the vocation of consecrated virgins is a specifically feminine one (consecrated virginity is actually the only state in life within the Catholic Church which is categorically off-limits to men), and since we’re thus called to relate to Christ and His people in a specifically feminine way, in our choice of clothing we shouldn’t try to hide the fact that we are women! In my mind, dressing in a purely androgynous fashion is hardly helpful to our efforts to serve as a witness of Christ’s love for His Church. And I believe it is possible to look feminine without being immodest or extravagant in one’s dress.

For me in my own life, the desire to appear feminine influences my clothing choices in a number of ways too subtle to write about in great detail. But basically, I try to look for clothes that fit well while still being modest, and which, while being simple, are still aesthetically pleasing and reasonably attractive. There’s no sense in wearing un-flattering clothes just for the sake of wearing something un-flattering; even religious habits are envisioned as being something “at once poor and becoming.” (See Perfectae Caritatis, 17.)

Also, while I often wear blue jeans when I’m doing housework or when I’m relaxing at my parents’ house with just my immediate family present, I generally put on a dress or a skirt whenever I go out in public.**

Finally, although I certainly don’t believe that consecrated virgins should invest time or resources into keeping up with current trends in the secular fashion world, I still think that we should make a point to dress with class and relevancy. I.e., we shouldn’t come across as eccentric. While our modesty and simplicity should be notable, I also think that we should dress in such a way that even a well-meaning non-believer would feel comfortable approaching us.

Our clothing should convey maturity, intelligence, and competence or professionalism. It should also make it clear that we had enough sophistication to have renounced the glamour of the world by means of a free, deliberate choice—as opposed to, say, having adopted a modest and simple lifestyle out of fear or naïveté. On a concrete, practical level, I think this would mean that consecrated virgins should avoid things like: shapeless ankle-length denim or plaid jumpers, nineteenth century-style prairie dresses, long dresses homemade out of floral quilting fabric, muumuus or housedresses worn as street dresses, et cetera.

Practical – And in all of these considerations, common sense should reign supreme. If we as consecrated virgins are going to spend our days hard at work building up the local Church, we need clothing which will be comfortable and study enough to allow us to do our work well. I think it’s also important that most of our clothes be fairly simple to maintain, so that our wardrobe doesn’t demand too much of our attention.

Also, individual consecrated virgins need different clothes depending on their individual circumstances. E.g., a consecrated virgin who works in a diocesan office would probably need more formal business-type clothing than a consecrated virgin who worked in a soup kitchen or taught at an elementary school. If a consecrated virgin’s apostolic activity involved attending a lot of fundraisers or formal dinners, she might need to find something which, while being modest and simple, could pass as an evening dress. Yet for many other consecrated virgins, it would be terribly superfluous to own anything even resembling cocktail attire.

The climate and local cultural expectations in a consecrated virgin’s home diocese is another consideration, since it’s important to dress in way that is practical and appropriate for one’s surroundings. Even just within the United States, what works well in one region of the country might look out of place and be unduly uncomfortable in another.

For example, at home in New York, I love wearing black—it’s simple, dignified, and matches everything. But over the past few years I learned the hard way that black is NOT a friendly color in south Florida! It’s too hot to wear for most of the year; the harsh sun invariably fades it to some shade of brown, gray, or navy blue; and compared to all the loud, bright colors that people in the Miami area tend to wear, wearing black clothing makes it look like you’re in mourning for a close relative (really—I’ve encountered this particular misunderstanding personally before).

Anyway, that’s my two cents! Once again, comments on this post from other non-habited consecrated women are most welcome.

notes:

*In fact, I believe the reason that women religious typically have a veil as a part of their traditional habit is because of the historical overlap between the Order of Virgins and the earliest forms of monasticism. So you couldn’t say that I think modern consecrated virgins should wear veils to act more like religious Sisters—rather, it would be more accurate to say that nuns starting wearing veils in the first place because this was the custom of consecrated virgins!

** But this is emphatically NOT intended to echo the “Great Pants Debate of 2010.” I most certainly do not think that pants are intrinsically immodest; and to me it seems ridiculous to propose that it might somehow be inherently sinful for women to wear slacks. All I’m trying to say here is that in my own personal OPINION, skirts are a better “look” for consecrated virgins living in the world.

Feast of St. Teresa of Jesus

2010-10-15T21:48:00.002-04:00

In honor of today’s memorial of St. Teresa of Avila, here is “St. Teresa’s bookmark,” one of my favorite quotes from this Doctor of the Church:

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you;
All things pass away.
God never changes.
He who has God lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.

And here is the original Spanish:

Nada te turbe,
nada te espante;
todo se pasa,
Dios no se muda.
La pacientia todo lo alcanza.
Quien a Dios tiene nada la falta:
solo Dios basta.

(And as a side note to regular readers: I have a few full-length posts almost ready to publish. Thank you all for your patience, good wishes, and prayers as I take the time in my “real life” to learn the ropes of my new job.

Also, this past week I sent out, via email, the finished copy of my M.A. thesis to—I hope—everyone who requested it. If you asked for a copy, but did not recently receive one, email me a reminder at: sponsa.christi.author [at] gmail [dot] com.)

New Job…

2010-09-19T22:53:00.000-04:00

(Image: Jesus blesses the children, as described in Matthew 19:14.)

…or should I say, new apostolate?

The reason for my recent blog silence is that I recently took a position as Director of Religious Education at a small parish in Orange County, New York (one of the “upper counties” of the Archdiocese), in a village which is about a forty-minute drive from my hometown.

There are about two-hundred children in my after-school and evening catechism program, in first through eighth grades.* I also have a team of about twenty catechists, who all seem to be really dedicated Catholics and lovely people!

Even though I am thinking that I will probably go back to school again at some point (possibly for a Canon Law degree), right now I’m overjoyed to be “dedicated to the service of the Church” in such a direct way. It’s a real privilege to be able to spend my days helping people come to know Jesus Christ.

But while obviously I’ve been pretty busy lately, I do plan to keep up the blog. Regular posting will resume shortly. In the meantime, please say a prayer that we have a great upcoming year in my parish’s Religious Education program!

* International readers: first through eighth grades covers children from six to fourteen years old.

Archbishop Dolan on the Assumption

2010-08-15T20:39:00.004-04:00

Here is Archbishop Dolan’s column for the feast of the Assumption. It was first printed in the August 12, 2010 issue of our archdiocesan newspaper, Catholic New York.

Emphases, in bold, and comments, in red, are mine.

***
Of Harvests, Earthly and Eternal

It’s harvest time! One of my most cherished times of the year...

The tomatoes, corn on the cob, cherries, peaches, watermelons, and cantaloupes are in from the farms on Long Island, the upper counties (i.e., the northern counties of the Archdiocese of New York—where I’m from!) and New Jersey. I can’t get enough of them. And even my physician, who’s hung up on my weight, can’t gripe, because all of these fruits and vegetables of the harvest are good for me!

This is the way the Creator intended His good earth to be used: to be cultivated tenderly by devoted hands, and to produce a bounty to feed His creatures. This is the purpose of His good earth.

Yes, it’s harvest time...

No wonder we now celebrate the touching feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, this Sunday, August 15, right-smack-dab in the middle of the harvest.

For Mary is God’s harvest. She exemplifies what God has in store for all of us when we come to fruition.

Our Father created us for a garden, but we ruined His plan. The first Adam and Eve defiled the garden, and God’s harvest had to be delayed.

The Second Adam—Jesus—and the new Eve—His mother, Mary—ushered in a return to the garden and the first fruits of a lavish harvest.

Mary is the fruit of God’s harvest. She is the “produce,” a hint, a promise, of what the Divine Gardener intends for us all. (To a different extent, consecrated virgins—as well as consecrated celibates in general—are also living as “first fruits.” In choosing to renounce the joys of human marriage in order to love God with “an undivided heart,” consecrated virgins start living NOW the same kind of life which all the faithful will have in heaven.)

Because, when her earthly life was ended, God brought her both body and soul to be with Him forever in heaven. She’s already “ripe and picked.” That’s what we call her Assumption.

We’ll have to wait for a while. Yes, when our earthly journey is over, we hope—through God’s mercy and the power of the death and resurrection of Jesus—our immortal souls will be united with the Lord for all eternity.

But it’s still not the final harvest, because God wants us, soul and body, to live with Him forever in heaven, like Our Lady.

That eternal harvest will come at the end of time.

Lest we get discouraged, lest we get tired of waiting on the vine to be picked by the Lord, lest we get fatigued battling the weeds, birds and rabbits, God reminds us what He has in store for us. As Mary, by her humble obedience and perfect discipleship, is a model of how we are now to live here in the garden, so is she an example of what we’ll be at the end of time: eternal happiness in heaven, body and soul with God.

The joys of that eternal harvest at the end of time will be infinitely more enjoyable than even those wonderful tomatoes, corn, cherries, peaches, watermelons and cantaloupes we savor in August.

A blessed Feast of the Assumption! Enjoy this season of harvest, and keep your eyes on the final one, where Jesus and Mary, the first fruits, await us.

Seven New Novices for the Sisters of Life!

2010-08-03T14:44:00.008-04:00

It’s always a joy to see religious communities flourish in your home diocese! Here is a photo of the newest novices for the Sisters of Life, sent to me by Archdiocesan Vocation Director Fr. Luke Sweeney.

(The new novices, left to right, are: Sr. Virginia Joy; Sr. Annunciata Maria; Sr. Cecilia Rose; Sr. Avila Marie; Sr. Mariana Benedicta; Sr. Mary Sophia; and Sr. Faustina Maria Pia.)

The Sisters of Life are an apostolic congregation of women religious founded in the Archdiocese of New York in 1991 by the late archbishop John Cardinal O’Connor. Through prayer and various apostolic works, the Sisters of Life support women in crisis pregnancies and strive to foster a culture where human life is respected and reverenced.

Please remember these new novices in your prayers!

Defining Consecrated Life

2010-07-29T11:47:00.012-04:00

Some of the questions I receive most frequently, both in real life and in emails, have to do with the difference between consecrated virginity and a private vow of virginity, celibate commitments within lay movements, or membership in a Third Order.*

The short answer to all these questions is that consecrated virginity, like religious life, is a public, canonically recognized state of consecrated life. In contrast, members of lay movements and those who have made private vows—while they might be living a dedicated lifestyle with many similarities to canonically consecrated persons—are not formally considered to have entered into what the Church officially recognizes as “consecrated life.”

This of course does NOT mean that those who have made commitments outside of canonically recognized forms of consecrated are not in fact responding to a genuine call from God, or that they aren’t called to become saints in their own way of life. But it does mean that the fundamental nature of their vocation is different from that of persons who are officially considered to be “consecrated.”

The essential elements of consecrated life

This brings us to the question of how “consecrated life” properly so-called can be identified and defined.

Naturally, questions regarding the technical canonical status of members of lay movements presuppose that the Church already has a well-articulated theology on the precise nature of consecrated life. But in fact, the nature of “consecration” as a state in life is one of the more ambiguous areas of ecclesiology. (This may perhaps be largely because, as the Church understands the consecrated life and its continued growth and development as a more or less direct gift of the Holy Spirit, the institutional Church was laudably reluctant to burden its expressions with an overabundance of regulations.)

However, it would seem that the Church still does maintain that several elements are absolutely constitutive to the consecrated life:

1. Observance of the evangelical counsels

The most obvious essential element of consecrated life is the embracing of the evangelical councils. In Canon Law and the Catechism of the Catholic Church, the consecrated life is frequently defined as “the state in life which is constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels.” (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 914)

The evangelical counsels are traditionally held to be, and are described in Canon Law as, poverty, chastity, and obedience. (cf. canons 599-601.) While there is a wide variety among the various forms of consecrated life of acceptable ways in which the counsels of poverty and obedience may be observed on a practical level, a common thread which runs through all forms of consecrated life is the “obligation of perfect continence in celibacy” (can. 599)

And in a sense, celibacy as the common foundation is significant and has particular spiritual value, in that celibacy freely chosen “for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven” not only has the most explicit scriptural roots, but also serves as the original historical foundation for the development of all the subsequent particular forms of consecrated life.

2. A permanent commitment to the evangelical counsels

The Catechism also specifies that it is not only the observance of poverty, chastity, and obedience, but “that it is the profession of these counsels, within a permanent state of life recognized by the Church, which characterizes the life consecrated to God.” (Emphasis in the hard-copy printed original—see also online CCC 915.) It is only by a free and deliberate commitment to the evangelical counsels, made with the intention of permanently undertaking the subsequent obligations, that an individual can be identified as being in a canonically “consecrated” state of life.

But it does not seem that this should be taken to mean that a formula for profession vows explicitly mentioning poverty, chastity, and obedience is strictly necessary in order for an individual to enter into a truly consecrated state. If this were the case, Benedictine monks and nuns, and Dominican nuns and friars, for example, would not be rightly considered “consecrated” since the vow formulae of their respective Orders mention neither poverty nor chastity directly.

Rather, it seems that in requiring the profession of the evangelical councils, Canon Law and the Catechism of the Catholic Church are simply stipulating that all consecrated persons must make a public and permanent commitment to a way of life which is in accord with a radical living of the three named evangelical counsels in a real, even if implicit, sense.

Conversely, any proposed form of consecrated life which would seek to “exempt” itself categorically from observing either poverty, chastity, or obedience in at least some concrete manner, would drastically undermine its status as a true form of canonical consecration.

3. Official recognition by the visible, institutional Church

Finally, one other qualification for a way of life to be properly considered “consecrated” is that it be formally acknowledged by the Church as such. This is indicated by the same paragraph in the Catechism, which states that a consecrated person must profess the evangelical counsels within the context of “a permanent state in life recognized by the Church.” (My emphasis.)

Individuals can not be considered “consecrated” according to Canon Law unless they are officially regarded as being so by the institutional Church, regardless of their subjective level of holiness or the loftiness of ideal to which they aspire.

Because of this, it would be creating a false dichotomy to hold the charismatic nature of the consecrated life (i.e., the aspect of defined by the inspiration towards total self-giving which is imparted directly by the Holy Spirit to consecrated persons) as somehow being opposed to the governing hierarchical nature of the magisterium. These two “poles” of the Church—which are even not without overlap—are profoundly inter-related; the consecrated life is given its visible association with the mission of Christ only through its relationship to the successors of the Apostles.

But, are there “de facto” or “lay” forms of consecrated life?

Yet despite these non-negotiable requirements, it is at times proposed that other radical ways of following Christ should be regarded as being true forms of consecrated life.

Examples of these could include:

- single or married members of the new lay ecclesial movements, such as the Neo-Catechumenal Way, Focolare, Opus Dei, Communion and Liberation, or Regnum Christi;

- dedicated celibate members of these movements (including Opus Dei numeraries and the “consecrated” women of Regnum Christi);

- married or privately-vowed celibate members of secular Third Orders (such as Lay Dominicans, Secular Franciscans, or Secular Discalced Carmelites);

- families associated with the charismatic movement who deliberately live within close proximity to each other so as to enjoy some kind of community life (such as the People of Hope in New Jersey);

- “lay monasteries” comprised of married persons, single persons, and families with children, all living in common;

- “consecrated widows” in the Latin Rite;

- men and women who choose to live an eremitic lifestyle privately, on their own initiative, and without any formal episcopal approval;

- people who commit to a particular way of life associated with an organized apostolic work, such as members of the Catholic Worker, Lamp Ministries, or L’Arche movements;

- individuals who simply profess a private vow of celibacy or virginity, either on their own or under the guidance of a spiritual director.

None of these ways of life are properly considered “consecrated” according to the Church’s technical understanding of the term, because they either lack an appropriately full observance of the evangelical counsels (such as in the case of married members of lay ecclesial movements), or an explicit profession of the counsels (as in the case of L’Arche members or lay hermits), or public recognition from the Church in their chosen was of life (such as those who are privately vowed to a life of celibacy).

Individuals who fit into one of these categories are often referred to, or refer to themselves, as “lay consecrated.” However, used in this context, “lay consecrated” is not a canonical term,** and my own personal opinion is that the use of this phrase should be discouraged for pastoral reasons of not confusing the faithful.

While those who would call themselves “lay consecrated” in the sense indicated above may in fact be living Christian lives that are subjectively as fervent as—or perhaps even more fervent than—that of those who are consecrated according to Canon Law, they nevertheless do not have the same specific place in the Church as those who are in a publicly-recognized state of consecrated life.

What is special about the vocation of consecrated persons?

Publicly consecrated persons have the specific vocation of bearing witness to the absolute primacy of Jesus Christ and to the reality of eternal life.

By freely renouncing marriage and many of the good things associated with earthly life, consecrated persons show the world that Christ alone can satisfy all the longings of the human heart. They also dramatically profess their belief in the Resurrection, and even more basically, in the existence of God—in other words, they “bet their life” that there is more to our existence than the here-and-now material world.

In doing this, consecrated persons are called to serve as a kind of “window” to the supernatural world. Because they live on earth as if they were already in heaven, where the saints “neither marry nor are given in marriage but are like the angels,” (Matthew 22:30) consecrated persons could be said to have the vocation of making heaven tangibly present to us on earth.

Consecrated persons, in their total devotion and self-gift to Christ, are also called to serve as an especially vivid reflection of Christ’s bride the Church. In this way, the prayer of consecrated persons is in a special sense the voice of the Church herself; and the apostolic activity of consecrated persons is in a particular way an expression of the Church’s maternal care for her children.

Could it be possible that a person who is not technically considered “consecrated” might also be able to do these things? The answer is yes…and no.

“Yes,” because of course all Christians are called to be eschatological witnesses to at least some extent. Even the absolute minimum required of a faithful Catholic is enough to orient one’s life dramatically towards the reality of heaven. It could also theoretically happen that an individual was not technically “consecrated,” in the sincerity of his or her devotion, may in actual fact be a more convincing witness than many canonically consecrated persons.

Additionally, our categories consecrated life shouldn’t be used to constrain the Holy Spirit. If a well-balanced, non-consecrated layperson truly felt called—and had no incompatible obligations—to honor God through an ascetic lifestyle more directly focused on the next world than on this present one, absolutely nothing in the Church’s teaching or tradition would support us discouraging him or her from this!

However, in another very important sense, people who are not technically “consecrated” really cannot take on the role of canonically consecrated persons.

Canonically consecrated persons are given their vocation by the Church herself. That is, a persons in public states of consecrated life have not only had their interior “call” verified and confirmed by the institutional Church; but has also, in a real way, been given a “mandate” or commission by the Church to bear a very specific kind of Christian witness to the world.

Consequently, consecrated persons are able to serve as representatives of the Church in a manner not possible for persons who are not canonically consecrated. In this, they are also able to act as “icons” of the Church as the bride of Christ, and to make eschatological realties present in a uniquely concrete way. In entering into a canonical form of consecrated life, and individual is able to set him or herself aside for God alone in a dramatically more concrete and demonstrable fashion that can an individual who remains technically a lay person.

Finally, some points to keep in mind…

While keeping in mind that the relatively new phenomena of lay ecclesial movements and other “new forms of consecrated life” require a great deal of prudence and discernment on the part of all those involved, in addition to that of the magisterium, it is still good to remember that the Church does have a tradition of attaining sanctity through a private observance of the evangelical councils. Many saints, such as Catherine of Siena, Joan of Arc, Gemma Galgani, Bl. Kateri Tekakwitha, and Bl. Frederic Ozanam (founder of the St. Vincent de Paul Society), never formally entered religious life but rather chose to remain celibate “for the sake of the Kingdom” simply through a private vow or promise.

In celebrating their lives and commemorating their feast days, the Church seems to regard these saints as having been wholly given over to God in a notably distinct manner, even if they did not lead a life that was formally considered “consecrated.” Because of this, it would be reasonable to conclude that individuals today who are not, strictly speaking, in a state of consecrated life may still be able to live out something like a “spirituality of consecration” by truly—if only interiorly or subjectively—setting themselves aside for God alone.

Yet at the same time, a genuine call to “de facto” consecrated life would seem to be relatively rare, and difficult to discern accurately. For this reason, it remains important to maintain the distinction between a praiseworthy life of a private dedication to the evangelical counsels, and the states of consecrated life officially recognized by the Church.

notes:

* People also often ask me about consecrated virginity versus secular institutes. But for the sake of not making this post any more confusing than it has to be, in this discussion I’m sort of “bracketing off” the entire question of secular institutes.

Secular institutes are a notoriously “gray” area in determining what constitutes canonical consecration. On the one hand, the Church recognizes and legislates the existence of secular institutes, which would seem to make them a canonical form of consecrated life. But on the other hand, secular institute members profess private vows, which would seem to imply that the Church does not formally recognize their commitment to the evangelical counsels in a way proper to canonical forms of consecrated life. Additionally, can. 711 indicates that secular institute membership doesn’t chance an individual’s canonical status.

** Although in another context, “lay consecrated” might be considered a canonical term when used to indicate canonically consecrated persons who have not received the sacrament of Holy Orders. In this sense, all persons in consecrated life who are not bishops, priests, or deacons would be considered “lay consecrated,” including religious brothers, consecrated virgins, cloistered nuns, and Sisters in apostolic religious congregations.

What Does It Mean to Be “In the World?”

2010-07-13T16:20:00.003-04:00

As regular readers of this blog have probably picked up by now, I strongly believe that, in terms of the general pattern of our day-to-day concrete experience, consecrated virgins should strive to live lives that are readily identifiable as being “consecrated.” My opinion is that consecrated virgins should live out their spousal relationship with Christ through a more visible dedication to prayer, service, and simplicity of life.

In other words, I think that consecrated virgins are called to an intensity of Christian witness which goes beyond that proper to a devout, single Catholic lay woman. This is in contrast with the popular conception that consecrated virgins are instead called to a more “hidden” witness within the context of a secular lifestyle.

Often, this idea—i.e., that women consecrated to a life of virginity according to canon 604 are normatively called to “blend in” with the lay faithful, without any conspicuous outward expressions of their consecration, and without undertaking any life-altering obligations other than celibacy—finds as its justification the fact that consecrated virgins are described in the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity as living “in the world.”

But after considering this argument more for some time, I’ve come to my own conclusion that this line of reasoning may not be accurate, and is perhaps based on some unsupported theological or canonical assumptions. Namely, to understand consecrated virginity as ordinarily entailing a more or less “lay” mode of life would seem to be giving the words “in the world” a weight and connotation which the Church does not actually appear to ascribe to them.

Here, it is important to note that within the Church’s authoritative writings the phrase “in the world,” like the word “secular,” is not a univocal term. That is, these words can be used to mean different things in different contexts. (Unlike, for example, terms such as “Coajuter bishop” or “papal enclosure,” which refer to one specific thing regardless of the context in which they are used.)

In some instances he words “secular” and “in the world” are intended to be taken in the strong sense of implying total immersion in, or a close association with, the sphere of temporal affairs. This is certainly the more colloquial usage of the two phrases. For example, in every-day conversation we generally speak of things being “secular” in contrast with those which are wholly dedicated to God as “sacred;” and sometimes religious Sisters refer to their pre-consecrated lives with the expression: “when I was in the world…”

There are also some official, formal contexts in which the Church uses the terms “secular” and “in the world” in this strong sense. In the Vatican II document Lumen Gentium, the Church gives this description of the role and identity of the lay faithful (here specified as those who have neither received Holy Orders nor who have entered into a public state of consecration):

“What specifically characterizes the laity is their secular nature. …the laity, by their very vocation, seek the kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and by ordering them according to the plan of God. They live in the world, that is, in each and in all of the secular professions and occupations. They live in the ordinary circumstances of family and social life, from which the very web of their existence is woven.” (Lumen Gentium, 31.)

Here, the context makes it obvious that, when in reference to the laity, “in the world” and “secular” should be taken in the strong sense, or “at face value,” so to speak.

Likewise, Canon Law indicates that, when used to describe the special vocation of secular institute members, “in the world” and secular” should also be understood in this strong sense.

For example, canon 710 states that:

“A secular institute is an institute of consecrated life in which the Christian faithful, living in the world, strive for the perfection of charity and seek to contribute to the sanctification of the world, especially from within.”

Canon 713 tells us that:

“§1. Members of these institutes express and exercise their own consecration in apostolic activity, and like leaven they strive to imbue all things with the spirit of the gospel for the strengthening and growth of the Body of Christ.

§2. In the world and from the world, lay members participate in the evangelizing function of the Church whether through the witness of a Christian life and of fidelity toward their own consecration, or through the assistance they offer to order temporal things according to God and to inform the world by the power of the gospel. They also cooperate in the service of the ecclesial community according to their own secular way of life.”

And in canon 714 we read:

“Members are to lead their lives in the ordinary conditions of the world according to the norm of the constitutions, whether alone, or in their own families, or in a group living as brothers or sisters.”

However, there is also a more limited meaning to the words “secular” and “in the world.”

Sometimes, in some instances, these terms can be used simply to designate that certain individuals are not technically a part of a religious community, even while these same individuals may have a role in the Church which is more similar to that of religious than it is to that of the laity.

For example, diocesan priests are often said to be “in the world,” and Canon Law describes them as “secular clerics.” Yet at the same time, nobody with an adequate understanding of the Catholic priesthood would argue that the clergy should live a lifestyle that could be called “secular” in the strong sense of the term. (In fact, “secular priest” can sometimes be a confusing term for people, since it sounds so much like an oxymoron!)

Even if we were to set aside for the movement the various theological descriptions of the priesthood as men specially called and chosen to be set apart for the God’s service, it’s possible to demonstrate, even working just from Canon Law, that the Church clearly envisions diocesan priests as living a distinctively “consecrated” lifestyle.

Diocesan priests are solemnly obligated to a life of celibacy (can. 277), obedience to their bishop (can. 273), and to the recitation of the Liturgy of the Hours (can. 276). While all Christians, including laypeople are called to the type of chastity and obedience proper to their state, secular priests are asked to live these with a radicalism that would be inappropriate for most Christians “in the world.”

Canon Law often states that secular priests are supposed to be completely devoted to the work of the Church (can. 281), to the extent that nothing else in their life should interfere with the exercise of their ministry (cf. can. 278 §3). Additionally, secular priests are also asked to refrain from involvement in political, military, or civil affairs (can. 285-289). This is very different from the vocation of those in secular institutes, or from that of the laity in general, who are specifically and authentically called to exercise a Christian influence in realm of temporal affairs. Further, when canon 284 asks that priests wear clerical garb, this obviously presumes that the Church intends her priests to be recognizable, public representatives of the Church.

So even while diocesan priests are properly considered “secular” clerics who live “in the world,” in this case it is very clear that these designations do NOT mean that they are called to live lives similar to that of devout single laymen.

Now, given that we can acknowledge more than one possible interpretation of what it means to be “secular” and to “live in the world,” the question is how to understand these terms when applied to consecrated virgins.

In my opinion, consecrated virgins living in the world are only “in the world” in the more limited technical sense. That is, consecrated virgins, like diocesan priests, are “in the world” insofar as they are not members of a religious community. This means that, while consecrated virgins obviously from religious Sisters in some fundamental ways (e.g., they do not have cloister regulations or community obligations), at the same time consecrated virgins are still called to live lives that are demonstrably “set apart” for God alone.

I think that this conclusion is evident by the way in which the phrase “in the world” is actually used in the Church’s authoritative writings on consecrated virgins. Typically, when the liturgy and other Church documents refer to consecrated virgins as being “in the world,” this is simply used to distinguish virgins consecrated according to canon 604 from solemnly professed cloistered nuns who received the Rite of Consecration according to the traditional practice of their Order.

And unlike the official literature and Canon Law on secular institutes, there are absolutely NO authoritative documents which suggest that consecrated virgins should be living out their vocation to perpetual virginity in the context of an otherwise lay lifestyle.

The fact that the call to evangelize “in the ordinary conditions of the world” is emphasized so clearly in the Church’s writings on secular institutes proves that the Church is indeed capable of articulating the charism of living the evangelical counsels while intimately involved in the sphere of temporal concerns.

Because of this, the lack of such language in reference to consecrated virgins should really be quite striking. Had the Council Fathers of Vatican II intended the restored Order of Virgins to be distinctively “in the world” in the strong sense of the term, then surely they would have thought to articulate this point unambiguously.

It could perhaps be argued that, because we also lack any authoritative statement forbidding a secular institute-type lifestyle for consecrated virgins, it is still reasonable to understand consecrated virgins as being “in the world” in the strong sense of the term.

However, I think this is also a mistake. Because it cannot be disputed that consecrated virginity is a public state of consecrated life, in the absence of any modifying directive (i.e., a statement that explicitly allows or requires consecrated virgins to adopt a “lay” and strongly secular mode of life) we should presume that consecrated virgins are called to a manner of living which is most similar to that of other public states of consecrated life (such as religious life).

It could be said that the Church’s “default setting” for consecrated life—as well as the Church’s standard for all public states of consecrated life—involves a life lived exclusively for God and the Church in a radical, total, open, visible, and readily obvious manner. Because of this, I think the burden of proof would fall on those who believe that consecrated virginity, as a public state of consecration, would be best lived in a subtle or “part-time” way, or that it would pertain primarily to an individual’s private interior life.

Similarly, to assume that consecrated virgins are called to live a secular institute-type lifestyle would seem to show a misunderstanding of the Rite of Consecration’s place in history. Consecrated virginity is a truly ancient vocation, one which pre-dates religious life by several centuries. Yet in contrast, secular institutes are a distinctly twentieth-century development.

Even while it could rightly be said that secular institutes were in some sense anticipated by the various lay fraternities of the Middle Ages, or by the early Ursulines in the sixteenth century, the existence of secular institutes as such was not formally acknowledged by the Church until 1947. Likewise, the idea of living the evangelical counsels in a discreet way, as a “hidden leaven” in the world of temporal affairs, with the object of imbuing those temporal affairs with Christian values, was not given serious theological consideration until fairly recently in the history of the Church.

And so my own thought is that, if were we to assume that consecrated virgins are normally called to life and mission similar to that of secular institute members, them we would be inappropriately superimposing a very modern ideal onto a Patristic-era form of consecrated life.

Women of Mystery, Women of Hope

2010-07-08T21:42:00.005-04:00

Here is a short, seven-minute film I found on the blog “Roman Catholic Vocations.” I liked it because it struck me as being almost like a Fishers of Men for women’s consecrated life.

Although unfortunately there are no consecrated virgins in the film, it is set in New York!

And, it features three of our best-known religious congregations: the Sisters and Life and the Franciscan Sisters of the Renewal, both of which are diocesan communities; and the Missionary Sisters of Charity, who have a formation house in the Bronx.

Women of Mystery, Women of Hope also has its own website: http://www.mysteryandhope.org/

Archbishop Dolan on Independence Day

2010-07-04T00:21:00.005-04:00

Okay…I know that lately, Archbishop Dolan’s writing has been showing up on my blog almost as often as on his own! But for the fourth of July, I felt like I just had to share his most recent column in our Archdiocesan newspaper, Catholic New York:

(Emphases, in bold, are mine.)

***

Declaring Our Dependence (on God)

My friend Cardinal Francis George, the Archbishop of Chicago, comments that perhaps the most revolutionary statement we can make these days is the opening line of the creed, “We believe in God, the Father Almighty...” as we pray at every Sunday Mass.

We look forward to all the festivities of our national holiday, the Fourth of July, this weekend.

We call it Independence Day, celebrating our independence from England, sealed on July 4, 1776, won at the cost of the blood of brave patriots during the Revolutionary War.

However, to profess our faith that “We believe in God, the Father Almighty...” is actually an act of dependence: we admit that every breath we take, each day we have, every opportunity we are given, come from an omnipotent God, and we bask in the fact that we are totally dependent upon Him. He is sovereign, He is Lord, He has power and dominion. “Without Him, we can do nothing; with Him, nothing is impossible.”

Yes, this spiritual Declaration of Dependence is downright revolutionary. For today, it is chic to throw off—not the shackles of allegiance to King George, as our brave patriots gallantly did—but any sense of obedience to God, His revelation and the basic code of right and wrong He has engraved upon the human heart.

Oh, it’s not that we do not believe in God; it’s just that we consider ourselves to be gods: we claim dominion over life itself, as we accept abortion, euthanasia, destruction of embryonic stem cells, capital punishment and destructive poverty that causes starvation and plagues in the world.

We presume to tamper with the basic institution of a civil society, marriage and family, re-defining it to suit the spirit of the age.

We revel in violence on TV, in movies, in the rap lyrics our young people sing, independent of the decency and respect God has instilled in us.

Creatures resort to war, and terrorism, feeling themselves above the moral limits of conflict that a civilized society has always tried to heed.

We defend freedom as the right to do whatever we want, whenever we want, wherever we want, however we want, with whomever we want, instead of believing that freedom is really the liberty to do what we ought.

The Ten Commandments become a list of suggestions, the Eight Beatitudes a set of nice ideas, the Bible mere literature, the Church unnecessary, religion a crutch for the unenlightened, objective truth an outmoded oppression.

Because, you see, we are independent. We are self-made, and we worship our creator—ourselves!

This is sure curious. For one, we are terribly dependent—not, regrettably, upon God—but upon money, insurance, gas, weapons, security systems or even upon alcohol, pornography, lust, gambling and drugs, in a culture of consumption and convenience.

Two, it is curious because the patriots who won independence for us in 1776 had no trouble at all acknowledging their total dependence upon God. In fact, the normative documents of our beloved country presume the existence of a providential God, objective truth, moral duty and the right to life itself.

The real invitation this Fourth of July is to be independent of earthly and selfish tyranny, whether that be King George, Osama bin Laden, or a slavery to the passions, while at the same time confessing an utter dependence upon God and His eternal law.

“The Truth shall make you free,” as Jesus taught.

Happy Fourth of July!

God bless America!

“We believe in God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth.” And we will never declare our independence from Him.

Is Consecrated Virginity a Viable Form of Consecrated Life?

2010-06-23T19:49:00.004-04:00

Here is a question from a reader on my last post:

“‘The earliest precursors to religious life were the primitive rules (such as the rule of St. Caesarius of Arles) written for communities of consecrated virgins or hermits as means for them to live their original commitments more faithfully.’

This would indicate to me that consecrated virginity lived in the world has something lacking. If the first nuns were consecrated virgins who started to live in community under a rule of life so they would be more faithful to their consecration, what does that say about the modern resurgence of consecrated virgins who live on their own with no one to answer to, no rule of life, doing their own thing? Is this a healthy, viable way to live consecrated life? Can it last, or will it die out like it did in the early centuries of the church?” –Anonymous

I have often received comments and questions very similar to this one in real life (including from a professor at my thesis presentation!), so I’m glad to have the chance to address some of these issues. This particular question actually touches on serveral separate but related points, which I’ll address one-by-one:

1. First of all, the development of new forms of consecrated life does not negate the earlier forms. For example, the advent of non-cloistered, “active” Sisters in the 1600’s does NOT make the more ancient vocation of cloistered, contemplative nuns any less valid or valuable; on an objective theological level you can’t say that active religious life, having evolved out of older forms of religious life, is somehow “more complete” than religious life devoted entirely to contemplation. Both forms of religious life have their own special place within the Church.

With this in mind, I feel that this same dynamic is in place regarding consecrated virginity lived “in the world.” That is, I don’t believe that the development of organized monastic life indicates that consecrated virginity is not a full, distinct vocation in its own right.

I can see how some might want to ask the question of whether or not the millennium-long veritable discontinuation of the practice of consecrating non-monastic virgins* suggests that consecrated virginity lived “in the world” may not actually be a true expression of consecrated life. But, the fact of the matter is that by including consecrated virgins in the 1983 Code of Canon Law, the contemporary Church has indeed recognized the Patristic-era Order of Virgins as legitimate, and not merely as a “provisional,” form of consecrated life.

2. Likewise, consecrated virginity does involve a unique “charism.” That is, consecrated virginity as a state in life does have a very distinct identity in the Church.

For one thing, consecrated virginity lived “in the world” is one of the only forms of consecrated life which involves a direct, continuative bond with the local diocese and the diocesan bishop.

And, reception of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity is different from the profession of religious vows, in that whereas religious vows are essentially promises one actively makes to God, virginal consecration is a solemn blessing passively received from God through the ministry of the bishop. This might seem like an overly technical distinction, but it does have implications for the spirituality of consecrated virgins.

Also, while I believe that it is highly appropriate for women in all forms of consecrated life to embrace a “bridal” spirituality, consecrated virginity is the only vocation which by its very nature involves a call to a spousal relationship with Christ. Canon Law describes consecrated virgins as being “mystically betrothed to Christ, the Son of God,” but it actually does not use nuptial imagery to describe women religious. (But this does not mean that women’s religious life is somehow anti-spousal, only that spousal imagery is not absolutely essential to the vocation. In theory, it’s possible than a women could have a vocation to religious life without necessarily experiencing a call to be a bride of Christ.)

Finally, consecrated virginity has a particular connection to the early Church and the ancient virgin-martyr saints, and consecrated virgins are commissioned in a special way to pray the Liturgy of the Hours.

3. With regard to the desirability of community life, it’s good to remember that certain customs and practices can be devoutly helpful to individuals as they seek to best live out their vocations, without those practices being therefore intrinsic to a particular vocation.

For example, many Catholic married couples find that saying a daily rosary with their children is helpful in fostering an atmosphere of joyful Christian family life. It’s easy to see how such a practice would greatly assist individuals in living out their vocations to matrimony and parenthood. Perhaps some spouses and parents would even say that they found they personally “needed” their family rosary in order to maintain a decent spiritual life or to remain faithful to the obligations of their state.

However, at the same time you couldn’t say that a family rosary was intrinsic to the sacrament of matrimony or Catholic parenthood, in the sense that the practice of a family rosary isn’t a sacramental or canonical requirement for a valid marriage.

The Church might strongly recommend devotional practices such as a family rosary, but she does not strictly demand them. A person can even become a canonized saint without having adopted any specific set of devotional prayers.**

While certainly we can’t regard community life in the same way as we would devotional practices—since community is intrinsic to religious life, societies of apostolic life, and in some sense secular institutes, and as such does contribute in a major way to the theological identity of these forms of consecrated life—my thought is that community life probably functioned in a similar way for the early consecrated virgins (and perhaps could function in a similar way for modern consecrated virgins…but I’ll get to that in my next point).

That is, while some Patristic-era consecrated virgins and the earliest consecrated virgin-nuns did live in community, I think this was simply because they found it to be personally helpful, and NOT because their membership in a community was a determining or fundamental aspect of their vocation. A consecrated virgin is a consecrated virgin regardless of whether or not she lives on her own, with family, or with other consecrated virgins; whereas a woman religious is by definition one who belongs to a religious community.

4. Modern consecrated virginity is not actually anti-community life. While consecrated virgins are free live on their own, they are not required to do so. Although the small number and geographical dispersion of today’s consecrated virgins makes residential community life somewhat of an impractical proposition at the time of this writing, there is nothing to stop a group of modern consecrated virgins from living under the same roof for purposes of mutual support. In fact, some commentators understand the second paragraph of canon 604,*** which explicitly opens the possibility for consecrated virgins to associate, to allow for this specific sort of arrangement.

Naturally, as a matter of prudence, anyone presently seeking to become a consecrated virgin should have the emotional and spiritual resources to be capable of living a consecrated life with only a minimum of external human support. But on a theological (if not a practical) level, a call to consecrated virginity is not identical with a special call to solitude or independence.

5. And, it would seem to be possible to live a truly consecrated life without the benefit of day-to-day community support.

Or at least, the Church seems to think it is. Aside from the restoration of a non-monastic Order of Virgins, the fact that the Church endorses the existence of secular institutes and eremitic life, as well as the fact that she does not mandate that the diocesan clergy should live together, seems to indicate that the Church believes that it is possible to be faithful to a life of celibacy and prayer without necessarily living in a community of like-minded individuals.

We also have the example of numerous saints to further attest to this possibility. For example, St. Genevieve of Paris (my patroness!) was a consecrated virgin in the fifth century. While she lived at about the time when the first true religious Orders were forming, she herself never joined any formally organized community. Yet, throughout almost her entire ninety-year life, she was known as a strikingly exemplary consecrated virgin.

Of course, subjectively an individual woman might feel that she herself would be unable to live a consecrated life outside of a community, and in my opinion this is a legitimate reason for entering religious life instead of becoming a consecrated virgin. But, such cases would not disprove the objective possibility of living a truly consecrated life as a consecrated virgin in the world.

Conversely, it’s also good to keep in mind that, while community life could surely be a great help remaining faithful to one’s vocation, in and of itself it isn’t a fool-proof guarantee that one will live a fervent consecrated life, or even that one will attain to the level of charity required of all Christians. Just simply living in community doesn’t automatically make one a saint!

6. Most importantly, it is a serious mistake to see consecrated virgins as normatively having “no one to answer to, no rule of life, [and] doing their own thing.” I would be the first to agree that this would not make for a “healthy, viable way to live consecrated life.” And if consecrated virginity is understood this way in some places, then my thought is that this is actually an abuse of the Rite of Consecration.

It is true that consecrated virgins do have much more freedom than do most religious in the ways in which they can structure their day-to-day lives. However, it’s totally inimical to the concept of consecrated life in general to enter into a public state of consecration with an attitude of “doing my own thing.” When a person becomes consecrated in a public manner through the Church’s liturgy (versus, for example, dedicating one’s life to God through a private vow of celibacy or virginity), in a very real way he or she no longer “belongs” to oneself, but to God and His Church.

As I see it, if a consecrated virgin is living a life that could rightly be considered “consecrated”—i.e., if she is living out her vocation the way it is ordinarily supposed to be lived—then she should truly be organizing EVERY aspect of her life around her commitment to the Church. As I have mentioned before, this is one major reason why I strongly believe that consecrated virgins should, under normal circumstances, be “dedicated to the service of the Church” in as direct and literal a way as possible.

I do hesitate to say that consecrated virgins should have a “Rule of Life” per se. My main objection to this is that the following of a set, specific Rule would seem to be an element uniquely proper to religious life and diocesan hermits (similar to the way in which following the spirituality of a specific founder of foundress is a constitutive aspect of religious life, but not consecrated virginity).****

Yet at the same time, if a consecrated virgin made it a priority to:

- attend daily Mass if it was at all humanly possible;
- pray the Liturgy of the Hours;
- work for the Church full-time in so far as she was capable, or otherwise to devote a comparable amount of time to volunteer service in the Church;
- make time for private prayer, spiritual reading, and studying the faith;
- live a demonstrably simple lifestyle;
- and to engage in some type of appropriate penance or sacrifices;

…then it would seem to me these commitments would serve the same purpose as a Rule, in that they would ensure that the consecrated virgin was living a life readily identifiable as being “consecrated.”

Finally, consecrated virgins do have someone (besides the Lord!) to “answer to”—their bishop. This is evident in the general introduction to the Rite of Consecration, which states that it for the bishop to determine the conditions under which women living in the world are to undertake a life of consecrated virginity.

Of course, consecrated virgins don’t vow obedience in the same way that nuns and Sisters do; which, among other things, means that the bishop would not be nearly as involved in the smaller, mundane decisions of every-day life. For example, the bishop obviously would not determine things like what time precisely to say Vespers, where to go grocery shopping, how often one could visit family and friends, ect. Nor would a consecrated virgin need her bishop’s approval to engage in the many smaller acts of charity that present themselves over the course of the day. E.g., a consecrated virgin would not need to be “commissioned” to do something like bring food to a sick parishioner or to check in regularly on an elderly neighbor.

However, this does NOT mean that the evangelical counsel of obedience has no place in the life a consecrated virgin! The bishop should, either personally or through a delegate (like a Vicar for Religious or Episcopal Delegate for Consecrated Life) be aware and approve of the general shape of a consecrated virgin’s consecrated life.

Likewise, my belief is that all of a consecrated virgin’s serious decisions—such as where to go to school, what job to take, whether or not to engage in a major project like writing a book or starting a charitable organization—should be mutually discerned by the consecrated virgin and her bishop or the bishop’s representative. Additionally, a consecrated virgin should be completely open to her bishop’s suggestions as to how she could best serve the needs of her diocese, or his requests for a particular form of service to the local Church, even if these go against the consecrated virgin’s own personal preferences or inclinations.

So in a nutshell, consecrated virginity lived “in the world” is a true and valid vocation, which subsequently should entail the same level of commitment, self-sacrifice, and responsibility as any public state of consecrated life within the Church. Any woman hoping to become a consecrated virgin in today’s world should sincerely intend to offer her life to Christ and His Church with as much totality as a strictly-cloistered nun offers hers—that is, an aspiring consecrated virgin should truly strive to give everything.

While it’s understandable that consecrated virginity may not yet be fully and appropriately understood by many Catholics, I think that it would have disastrously negative spiritual consequences for both individual consecrated virgins as well as for the wider Church if consecrated virginity were to be regarded as something like a less demanding “alternative” to
religious life.

notes:

* Although incidentally, the conferral of the solemn virginal consecration on women living outside of religious communities was not officially forbidden until the year 1926—less then fifty years before the promulgation of the revised Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity, which contained a form intended explicitly for women “living in the world.”

** Of course, this is referring to specific devotional practices (e.g., the brown scapular, various Fatima devotions, the Divine Mercy chaplet, the St. Louis de Montfort Consecration to Mary, ect.), and not to the liturgy, sacraments, or to prayer in general. These latter things, in contrast with what we would call “devotional prayers,” are truly indispensable for living a good and fruitful Catholic life!

***Canon 604 §2 reads: “In order to observe their own resolution more faithfully and to perform by mutual assistance service to the Church in harmony with their proper state, virgins can be associated together.”

**** But I would see no problem if some consecrated virgins found it personally helpful to write, with the help of her spiritual director or bishop, her own informal private “rule” or “plan of life” to serve as a basic set of guidelines for the daily living out of her vocation. But a situation would be much different from a consecrated virgin attempting to do something like follow the Rule of Saint Augustine or Benedict; or from enshrining an official rule as a major component of the spirituality of consecrated virginity in general.

The Various Forms of Consecrated Life within the Church

2010-06-12T22:09:00.011-04:00

Since starting this blog and becoming a consecrated virgin, I’m often asked—in blog comments, emails, and in real life when I try to explain my vocation to people—about the differences between the various forms of consecrated life within the Church. Often, Catholics are fairly aware that there are different kinds of religious communities, but have a harder time grasping the idea that there are actually other ways of being in a public state of consecrated life which, while being in altogether separate canonical categories from religious life properly so-called, are still just as valid of a “consecrated” witness in the life of the Church.

So, in an attempt to illustrate the richness of the Church’s understanding of consecrated life as it developed over the centuries, here is the basic “story” of the various forms of consecrated life recognized by the Church today. (Long time “Sponsa Christi” readers: please bear with me as I go into yet another explanation of consecrated virginity. I just wouldn’t want to leave consecrated virgins out of a discussion on consecrated life on my own blog! ;-) ):

In its legislature pertaining to consecrated life, the Church refers to five different forms of consecration: the diocesan eremitic life, consecrated virginity, religious life, membership in secular institutes, and membership in societies of apostolic life. All of these forms are outlined in the 1983 Code of Canon Law and are also included in the discussion on consecrated life in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, as well as in more pastorally-oriented documents such as the 1996 post-synodal exhortation Vita Consecrata.

Consecrated virginity is the oldest form of consecrated life canonically recognized by the modern Church. (See Code of Canon Law, canon 604; Catechism of the Catholic Church 922 – 924.) The choice of life-long virginity is praised several places in the New Testament, and the greeting to the “virgins called widows” at the conclusion of St. Ignatius of Antioch’s Letter to the Smyrnaeans strongly suggests that women dedicated to a life of virginity were already recognized as a distinct class within the Church of the late first century.

The fourth century in particular witnessed a flowering of this “Order of Virgins,” reflected in many of the Church Fathers’ writings on virginity. St. Ambrose’s work De Virginibus, written in the year 377, gives us some evidence that a solemn liturgical rite for the consecration of virgins existed during this period, although our earliest written copies date back only to seventh and eighth-century sources.

The early consecrated virgins were not nuns or religious Sisters, as religious life properly so-called did not come into existence (at least in the Latin Church) until the sixth century. But with the continued development and growth of monastic religious life in the subsequent centuries, reception of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity eventually came to be exclusively associated with the solemn profession of vows in a religious Order. And so the practice of consecrating virgins living outside of monasteries gradually fell into disuse.

However, when Sacrosanctum Concilium called for a revision of the Rite of Consecration to a Life of Virginity as a part of the liturgical reforms of the second Vatican Council, the resulting revised rite included versions for both nuns as well as for women living “in the world.” Consequently, in an action perhaps somewhat parallel to the re-institution of the permanent diaconate, the Patristic-era Ordo Virginum was restored to the life of the contemporary Church.

Similarly, recognition of the vocation to the eremitic life in the 1983 Code of Canon Law was presumably also intended as a means of bringing an ancient form of consecrated life into accord with the Church’s modern legislature and theological classifications. (See can. 603; CCC 920 – 921.)

The Church’s earliest hermits, such as St. Anthony of Egypt, were men (or sometimes women) who retreated into the deserts in order to dedicate their lives to Christ in an especially focused way, through a life of constant prayer, solitude, silence, and ascetical discipline. The rise of a specifically eremitical way of life is generally thought to have been a response to the cessation of the official Roman persecutions of Christianity, as the life of a hermit gave the most fervent Christians a way to “lay down their lives” for Christ, without suffering the physical death of actual martyrdom.

While the first hermits apparently developed their way of life under the more or less direct inspiration and guidance of the Holy Spirit, (see, for example, St. Athanasius’ account St. Anthony’s vocation in his work, The Life of Anthony) eventually systems of eremitical “apprenticeship,” loosely-structured communities designed for fraternal support, or set “rules of life” were developed to ensure a healthy, well-balanced, and spiritual fruitful ascetical lifestyle.

Generally, the early-hermit saints highly esteemed—and they themselves were often highly esteemed by—their local bishops. Yet the consecrated lives of these early hermits seem to have been largely a private endeavor in the sense that they did not seek or require an official “authorization” from the intuitional Church in order to embrace their special vocation. This is in contrast to the consecrated virgins of the same era, whose consecration was formally dependent upon the action of the local bishop.

Additionally, the ancient eremitical life does not seem to have the explicit profession of any kind of permanent commitment as a constitutive element. That is, an individual could be considered a hermit simply insofar as he or she was living a truly dedicated ascetical life.

The modern diocesan eremitic life envisioned in the most recent Code of Canon Law retains the major identifying elements of the original ancient eremitic life, in that it calls modern hermits to a consecrated life dedicated to solitude, prayer, and penance, but apart from any association with a particular religious community. (Although many religious Orders, such as the Carthusians and Carmelites, have a strong eremitical emphasis as a part of their spirituality; and while other Orders, such as the Franciscans and some Benedictines, have provisions in their Rule for members who feel called to live as hermits after many years of community life; individuals in these cases would be properly classified as religious, and not as canonical hermits.) But, the eremitical life described in canon 603 is more in accord with modern definitions and practical means for guidance of the consecrated life, as it requires that the hermit write a rule, remain under the direction of the local Ordinary, and profess definitive vows.

Religious life is the most familiar form of consecrated life, encompassing a variety of different forms, from strictly-cloistered monks and nuns to religious dedicated to active works of charity. (See can. 607 – 709; CCC 925 – 927.) The defining characteristics of religious life are: a life lived in community under the authority of a superior; the following of the special “charism” or spirituality of a particular founder or foundress; adherence to a specific rule of life and set of constitutions; publicly vowing to observe the evangelical councils; and a certain separation from the world in accord with the character of a particular institute.

The earliest precursors to religious life were the primitive rules (such as the rule of St. Caesarius of Arles) written for communities of consecrated virgins or hermits as means for them to live their original commitments more faithfully. However, the first example of true religious life—that is, communal consecrated life which includes a founder, a rule, a distinct spirituality, and perpetual vows—in the western Church would be the Order of St. Benedict, established around the year 530.

As St. Benedict himself was originally a hermit who founded his community primarily for the purpose of mutual support and guidance among other contemplative hermits or monks, the Benedictine Order was established to enable its monks (and soon after, its female nuns as well) to praise God continually by means of a balanced life of prayer and work. Likewise, generally the religious Orders founded prior to the second millennium were contemplative, or (at least de jure) dedicated to prayer alone.

The Middle Ages saw the development of the mendicant Orders, such as the Dominicans and the Franciscans. In these new Orders, the male braches were dedicated to preaching and apostolic works in addition to leading a quasi-monastic lifestyle. The female mendicants continued to live the life of enclosed contemplative nuns, although their monastic life was given a new “apostolic” focus. For example, the nuns of the Dominican Order were founded for the express purpose of spiritually supporting the friars in their preaching and educational apostolates. The Franciscan Poor Clares obtained permission to subsist solely on donations and the works of their own labors, instead of relying on landed endowments as did the nuns of older Orders.

During the counter-Reformation era, new missionary Orders, such as the Jesuits, came into being. And within the next few centuries, the Church witnesses the flowering of religious congregations, such as St. Vincent de Paul’s Daughters of Charity, which were dedicated primarily to active good works and sought to ameliorate in a direct manner the sufferings of the poor, the sick, the ignorant, and the misfortunate.

Although the “active,” or apostolic, congregations could be either male or female, the vast majority of these new communities were comprised of women religious. But because these religious Sisters lived consecrated lives very different from that of cloistered nuns, the Church would only allow them to profess simple, and not solemn, religious vows. Consequently, Sisters in apostolic congregations were not considered canonical “religious” until the year 1901.* However, congregations dedicated to works of charity now make up the majority of the number of religious institutes throughout the world. (For instance, all of the women’s religious communites which make up the Council of Major Superiors of Women Religious or the Leadership Conference of Women Religious fall into this category.)

Societies of apostolic life are communities in which the members share life in common and are dedicated to a shared apostolic purpose, but in which the members do not profess religious vows. (See can. 731 – 755; CCC 930.) Since the counter-Reformation era, different societies of apostolic life were founded for a variety of reasons, each having their own specific mode of community life.

One well-known society of apostolic life is the Oratorians of St. Philip Neri, which is comprised of secular priests who exercise their ministry solely within the context of an autonomous local community or “Oratory.” Other famous societies of apostolic life include the Mill Hill Missionaries and Maryknoll missionary Fathers, which are both priestly societies dedicated to foreign missionary work. In cases such as these, members of societies of apostolic life are secular priests (i.e., priests not professing religious vows) who are typically incardinated in the institute of their society, as opposed to a diocese.

Although many societies of apostolic life have the practice of some form of definitive commitment, such as promises or oaths, because they do not require vows per se the individual members are generally not considered to be “consecrated” in a formal canonical sense. However, societies of apostolic life mirror the structure and organization of religious institutes, and were founded for reasons similar to those of many apostolic religious congregations, and so are therefore (in my opinion, anyway) appropriately categorized along side true institutes of consecrated life.

Secular institutes are the newest form of consecrated life in the Church. (See can. 710 – 730; CCC 928 – 929; and also the website for the United States Conference of Secular Institutes.) While some preliminary steps were taken towards the development of secular institutes as early as the latter part of the nineteenth century, and while they were in some sense anticipated by the various kinds of lay fraternities that had existed in the Church since the high Middle Ages, secular institutes as such were only formally recognized by the Church in the year 1947, with the Apostolic Constitution Provida Mater Ecclesia.

The specific vocation of members of secular institutes is to live a life fully engaged in the temporal affairs of the world, while observing a private commitment to the evangelical councils in as radical a fashion as their fully secular status permits. Through this way of life, members of secular institutes aim to act as “leaven” in the world, bearing a deep Christian witness in areas of society which would normally be inaccessible to those with more public, visible roles in the Church.

While members of secular institutes do profess the evangelical councils through “vows or other sacred bonds,” they do never do so openly. Many institutes have customs of discretion on the part of their members regarding their incorporation into the institute. Canon 714 further adds that: “Members are to lead their lives in the ordinary conditions of the world according to the norm of the constitutions, whether alone, or in their own families, or in a group living as brothers or sisters.”

Largely because of the unambiguously non-public character of this vocation, and in a situation somewhat similar to that of societies of apostolic life, there is some debate as to what degree, if any, members of secular institutes may properly be considered to be “consecrated.” Another common argument for the technical non-consecrated status of secular institutes is found in canon 711, which states: “The consecration of a member of a secular institute does not change the member’s proper canonical condition among the people of God, whether lay or clerical, with due regard for the prescripts of the law which refer to institutes of consecrated life.”

Additionally, although Provida Mater Ecclesia is typically held to have established secular institutes as a recognized state in life, the actual document focuses less on the nature, purpose, and ecclesial significance of secular institutes as it does on the necessity for the development of guidelines in order to prevent intentional or unintentional abuses. That is, it does not seem totally clear that the Church actually intended to recognize secular institutes as being properly institutes of consecrated life.

But despite this, the self-understanding of secular institute members is that they are called to live out their vows to poverty, chastity, and obedience in just as much of a full and true sense as do religious, only in a different manner and from within a different sphere.** And so because secular institutes do present themselves as a means of offering God and the Church a complete gift of self, it would seem appropriate to categorize secular institutes among the forms of consecrated life, at least in a general sense for the purposes of this post.

*More information on this point can be found in the essay collection, The Foundations of Religious Life: Revisiting the Vision, by the Council of Major Superiors of Women Religious.

**N.b.: While it might in some contexts be reasonable to question whether the “ordinary” or “non-special” nature of a secular institute-lifestyle might lend itself to a lax or “soft” observance of the counsels, when considering this issue it would be important to distinguish between human weakness and failure in attaining an ideal versus intrinsic problems with the ideal itself.

“In What Sense Is Jesus a Priest?”

2010-06-06T07:16:00.005-04:00

Here is the Holy Father’s homily for this year’s celebration of Corpus Christi, our annual feast in honor of Christ’s real presence in the Blessed Sacrament.

This address is sort of on the long side, and theologically it’s rather dense, but definitely worth the effort it takes to read all the way through!

Emphasis, in bold, and comments, in red, are mine.

(Also…special congratulations and heartfelt prayers for a long-time “Sponsa Christi” reader, the newly-Ordained Father Corey Campeaux, who celebrates his first Mass today in the diocese of Lafayette, Louisiana!)

***

From “Zenit.org”:

VATICAN CITY, JUNE 4, 2010 - Here is a translation of the homily Benedict XVI delivered Thursday at the Mass preceding the Eucharistic procession held on the solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ. The Pope presided at the Mass in the courtyard of the Basilica of St. John Lateran, and the procession that followed via Merulana and ended at the Basilica of St. Mary Major.

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

The priesthood of the New Testament is closely bound to the Eucharist. Because of this, today, on the solemnity of Corpus Domini and almost at the end of the Year for Priests, we are invited to meditate on the relationship between the Eucharist and the priesthood of Christ. Oriented in this direction also are the first reading and the responsorial psalm, which present the figure of Melchizedek.

The brief passage from the Book of Genesis (cf. 14:18-20) states that Melchizedek, king of Salem, was “priest of God Most High,” and because of this “offered bread and wine” and “blessed Abram,” returning from a victory in battle; Abram himself gave him a tenth of everything. The Psalm, in turn, contains in the last verse a solemn expression, an oath of God himself, who declares to the King Messiah: “You are a priest for ever after the order of Melchizedek” (Psalm 110:4); thus the Messiah is not only proclaimed king, but also priest.

From this passage the author of the Letter to the Hebrews takes the cue for his ample and articulated exposition. And we re-echoed it in the refrain: “You are a priest for ever, Lord Christ”: virtually a profession of faith, which acquires a particular meaning in today’s feast. It is the joy of the community, the joy of the whole Church that, contemplating and adoring the Most Blessed Sacrament, recognizes in it the real and permanent presence of Jesus as High and Eternal Priest.

The second reading and the Gospel, instead, draw attention to the Eucharistic mystery. The First Letter to the Corinthians (cf. 11:23-26) treats the fundamental passage in which St. Paul recalls to that community the meaning and value of the “Lord’s Supper,” which the Apostle had transmitted and taught, but which risked being lost. The Gospel is the account of the miracle of the loaves and fishes, according to St. Luke: a sign attested by all the Evangelists, which announces beforehand the gift that Christ will make of himself, to give humanity eternal life.

Both of these texts highlight Christ’s prayer, in the act of breaking the bread. Of course there is a clear difference between the two moments: When he multiplies the loaves and fishes for the crowd, Jesus thanks the heavenly Father for his Providence, confident that he will not have food lacking for all those people. In the Last Supper, instead, Jesus transforms the bread and wine into his own Body and Blood, so that the disciples can nourish themselves from him and live in profound and real communion with him.

The first thing that one must remember is that Jesus was not a priest according to the Jewish tradition. His was not a priestly family. He did not belong to the lineage of Aaron, but rather to that of Judah; hence, legally, he was precluded from the way of the priesthood. The person and activity of Jesus of Nazareth were not placed in the line of the ancient priests, but rather in that of the prophets.

And in this line, Jesus distanced himself from a ritual conception of religion, criticizing the approach that valued human precepts linked to ritual purity rather than the observance of God’s Commandments, that is, love of God and of one’s neighbor, which, as the Gospel says, “is worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices” (Mark 12:33). Even inside the Temple of Jerusalem, sacred place par excellence, Jesus carries out an exquisitely prophetic gesture, when he chases the moneychangers and animal vendors, all things that served for the offering of traditional sacrifices. Hence, Jesus was not recognized as a priestly Messiah, but as prophetic and royal. Also his death, which we Christians rightly call “sacrifice,” had nothing of the ancient sacrifices; rather, it was completely the opposite: the execution of a death penalty by crucifixion, the most infamous, which took place outside the walls of Jerusalem. (In his theology, Benedict XVI/ Joseph Ratzinger does this a lot—he seems to follow, for a while, the same line of reasoning a his critics might tend to, only to bring that train of thought to a totally orthodox conclusion! Here, Benedict might appear to be entertaining the same prejudices as proponents of the historical-critical method of Biblical exegesis, by seemingly “arguing” against the priesthood of Christ. But watch where he goes with this…)

Now, in what sense is Jesus a priest? The Eucharist itself says it. We can begin from those simple words that describe Melchizedek: he “offered bread and wine” (Genesis 14:18). It is what Jesus did in the Last Supper: He offered bread and wine, and in that gesture he summarized all of himself and all of his mission. In that act, in the prayer that preceded it and in the words that accompanied it, is all the sense of the mystery of Christ, as it is expressed in the Letter to the Hebrews in a decisive passage, which it is necessary to quote. “In the days of his flesh,” wrote the author referring to Jesus, “Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard for his godly fear. Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered; and being made perfect he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, being designated by God a high priest after the order of Melchizedek.” (5:8-10).

In this text, which clearly alludes to the spiritual agony of Gethsemane, Christ’s passion is presented as a prayer and an offering. Jesus faces his “hour,” which leads him to death on a cross, immersed in a profound prayer, which consists in the union of his own will with that of the Father. This twofold and unique will is a will of love. Lived in this prayer, the tragic trial that Jesus faces is transformed into offering, into living sacrifice.

The Letter to the Hebrews says that Jesus “was heard.” In what sense? In the sense that God the Father delivered him from death and resurrected him. He was heard precisely because of his full abandonment to the will of the Father: God’s plan of love was able to be fulfilled perfectly in Jesus, who, having obeyed to the extreme point of death on the cross, became “cause of salvation” for all those who obey him. He became, that is, High Priest for having taken on himself all the sin of the world, as “Lamb of God.” It is the Father who confers this priesthood on him at the very moment in which Jesus goes through the passage from his death and resurrection. It is not a priesthood according to the order of the Mosaic Law (cf. Leviticus 8-9), but “according to the order of Melchizedek,” according to a prophetic order, depending only on his singular relationship with God.

Let us return to the expression of the Letter to the Hebrews that says: “Although he was a Son, he learned obedience through what he suffered.” Christ’s priesthood entails suffering. Jesus really suffered, and he did so for us. He was the Son and had no need to learn obedience to God, but we do, we had and always have need. Because of this, the Son assumed our humanity and for us let himself be “educated” in the crucible of suffering, he let himself be transformed by it, as the grain of corn which to bear fruit must die in the earth.

Through this process Jesus was “made perfect,” in Greek “teleiotheis.” We must reflect on this term because it is very significant. It indicates the fulfillment of a journey, that is, precisely the journey of education and transformation of the Son of God through suffering, through the painful Passion. And thanks to this transformation Jesus Christ became “High Priest” and can save all those who entrust themselves to him.

The term “teleiotheis,” translated correctly as “made perfect,” belongs to a verbal root that, in the Greek version of the Pentateuch, namely the first five books of the Bible, is always used to indicate the consecration of the ancient priests. This discovery is quite precious, because it tells us that the Passion was for Jesus as a priestly consecration. He was not a priest according to the Law, but he became so essentially in his Passion, Death and Resurrection: He offered himself in expiation and the Father, exalting him above every creature, constituted him universal Mediator of salvation.

We return, in our meditation, to the Eucharist, which in a while will be the center of our liturgical assembly and of the subsequent solemn procession. In it Jesus anticipated his sacrifice, not a ritual sacrifice but a personal one. In the Last Supper he acted moved by that “Eternal Spirit” with which he will offer himself later on the Cross (cf. Hebrews 9:14). Giving thanks and with a blessing, Jesus transformed the bread and wine. It is divine love that transforms: the love with which Jesus accepts in advance to give himself completely for us. This love is none other than the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the Father and of the Son, which consecrates the bread and wine and changes their substance into the Body and the Blood of the Lord, rendering present in the Sacrament the same sacrifice that is made later in a bloody manner on the cross.

We can conclude that Christ was a true and effective priest because he was full of the power of the Holy Spirit, he was the culmination of all the fullness of the love of God “on the night he was betrayed,” precisely in the “hour of darkness” (cf. Luke 22:53). It is this divine power, the same that brought about the Incarnation of the Word, which transformed the extreme violence and the extreme injustice [of his death] into a supreme act of love and justice.

This is the work of the priesthood of Christ, which the Church has inherited and continues to perpetuate, in the twofold form of ordinary priesthood of the baptized and that of the ordained ministers, to transform the world with the love of God. All, priests and faithful, are nourished by the same Eucharist, all of us prostrate ourselves to adore it, because present in it is our Teacher and Lord, present is the real Body of Jesus, Victim and Priest, salvation of the world.

Come, let us exult with hymns of joy. Come, let us adore! Amen.

[Translation by ZENIT]

Sorry for the Delay…

2010-05-31T14:24:00.007-04:00

Sorry for the long gap in posting—between graduation, spending some time with my family, driving from south Florida back home to New York, and attending a friend’s Ordination and first Mass, it’s been a busy month! But, I hope to resume my regular posting now that the academic year is over.

I did finish my Master’s thesis, titled: “What Does It Mean to Be ‘Dedicated to the Service of the Church?’: Understanding the Call to Service in the Restored Order of Virgins.” We have until the end of the summer to turn in a final copy, and so I am unfortunately still finding myself proofreading, fixing footnotes, tweaking my bibliography, ect.

So for those of you who have written requesting a copy of my thesis—this is what is taking me so long, and I have not forgotten about you! (And if anyone else wants to read my thesis once I have it completely in order, send me an e-mail at: sponsa.christi.author [at] gmail [dot] com). Now that I’m finished traveling, I really and truly do hope to have it done in the next few weeks!

***

On a side note, my trip up north this year took a little longer this year, because I actually began it on Pentecost weekend by heading south of Miami! I was able to attend the baptism of a family friend’s first child on Key West, which is the southernmost city in the continental United States (even though it’s an island—I guess it’s considered part of the continental U.S. because it’s in the state of Florida, and Florida is obviously part of the North American mainland).

The baptism was celebrated at the beautiful, historic Church of St. Mary, Star of the Sea, which is the oldest parish in south Florida. Although it is now a part of the Archdiocese of Miami, because Key West is geographically closer to Cuba that it is to the American mainland, it was originally under the auspices of the Diocese of Havana. (You can read more about St. Mary Star of the Sea’s fascinating history here, on the parish website.)

(Here’s a photo we took of the interior of St. Mary, Star of the Sea)

(And here’s one of me holding the Church’s newest member!)

Despite—or perhaps because of?—Key West’s reputation as being a somewhat of a “colorful” or a “party” city, St. Mary Star of the Sea struck me as being home to an especially vibrant Catholic community, with a school, a convent, and a twenty-four hour Adoration Chapel. (I suppose the only thing better than a Perpetual Adoration chapel is a Perpetual Adoration chapel located on a tropical island!)

On my way up north, I was happy to have the chance to visit other family friends in the Orlando area, a seminarian-friend from the Diocese of Raleigh, NC, and to spend a day at the Visitation monastery in Washington, DC. I was also able to visit the Apostolic Sisters of St. John in New Jersey when I stayed with them on the last leg of the long trip. But even after having had an overall very enjoyable journey (minus the part where I got completely, horribly lost in the “interestingly-arranged” streets of Washington yet AGAIN this year), I honestly say that I couldn’t be happier living anyplace other than right here in New York!

Seven New Priests for the Archdiocese of New York!

2010-05-18T21:57:00.004-04:00

This past Saturday morning, May 15, at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City, seven men were ordained for the Archdiocese of New York. The new archdiocesan priests are Fathers James Ferreira, George La Grutta, Steven Markantonis, Fredy Patiño Montoya, Thomas A. Roslak, Enrique Salvo, and Daniel Tuite.

Three were also ordained for the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal (the CFR’s), who are based in the Bronx and serve in the archdiocese, in other U.S. dioceses and overseas: Fathers Albert Karol Maria Osewski, C.F.R., Charles-Benoît Rèche, C.F.R., and Isaac Mary Spinharney, C.F.R.

You can read their vocation stories here, on the website for the archdiocesan newspaper, “Catholic New York.” For more pictures, see here and here on Dunwoodie seminarian Paul Zalonski’s blog, “Communio.”

Let’s all joyfully remember these new priests in our prayers!

“A Ph.D. in Scandal”

2010-05-11T19:13:00.005-04:00

No, this is not my reference to the theology program I just completed, but rather a memorable phrase from Archbishop Dolan’s timely and thought-provoking column in the most recent issue of our archdiocesan newspaper, “Catholic New York”:

(Emphases, in bold, and comments, in red, are mine.)

***

Jesus Is Still With Us

Did you happen to see former Governor Mario Cuomo’s letter to the editor of the Wall Street Journal of April 8, 2010? (N.b., it was actually in the April 14, 2010 issue.)

In the ink spilled over the recent fury about the sexual abuse scandal in the Church, Governor Cuomo’s remarks stand out for insight and balance. Simply put, he states that Jesus Christ—not sinful priests or negligent bishops—is the cornerstone of our faith. The governor reminds us that the leader of the apostles, the first pope, St. Peter, was far from some radiant saint, but an awful sinner, who actually denied even knowing Jesus three times on the night of His passion.

The Church is sinless, concludes Governor Cuomo; members of the Church, even her sisters, priests, bishops and popes, are not.

Our Catholic faithful, like Mr. Cuomo, are savvy, intelligent, perceptive women and men. Are they shocked, saddened and angered by daily, unrelenting reports of immorality of decades ago? Yes! Are they tempted to lose their faith? No!

Because they know it's all about Jesus Christ, the Son of God, our Savior, the way, the truth and the life. He remains with us in His Church, whose members are big sinners.

So, thank you, Governor Cuomo! You are right on target: our faith is not in the Church, but in a Person, the Second Person of the Most Blessed Trinity, Jesus Christ, who promised us He would be with us in the Church until the end of time, and that not even the “gates of hell will prevail against her.”

A reporter recently asked me, “Are you shocked and scandalized in the newest round of publicity about decades-old sexual abuse?”

“Well, yes,” I replied, as I would hope such nauseating immorality would always sadden me. But, I went on, “I happen to have a Ph.D. in scandal, so it doesn’t shake my faith. I have my doctorate in Church history, which is one long tale of sin, scandal and shock, always redeemed by the grace and mercy of God.”

And the apostles, our first priests and bishops, serve as the best example of how God’s wisdom trumps stupidity, His mercy erases sin, His grace is victorious over hard-headedness.

Last Monday, the Feast of Sts. Philip and James, two of the apostles, provides a good example. Ignorant Philip asks Jesus to “show us the Father.”

Poor patient Jesus! You can detect the exasperation in His response: “Philip, come on now, I’ve been with you every day for three years and you still don’t get it? Whoever sees me sees the Father.” Stubbornness, ignorance, right from the start.

A bigger blooper will come at the Ascension. Jesus had taught them so well, and right before He’s to return to heaven, His apostles reveal how dense they are, as they ask one of the sillier questions in the Gospel, “Lord, now will you restore the kingdom of Israel?”

What dolts! How often had He told them His was not a political agenda, yet they never got it!

And of course nothing was worse than the night of His passion: of His twelve best friends, one betrayed Him for thirty pieces of silver, one denied even knowing Him three times, and nine ran off like scared jackrabbits. Only one, the youngest, stuck with Him.

Not a good track record. If the survival of the Church depended upon the brightness, the virtue, the courage, the holiness of her bishops and priests, the Church would have collapsed only hours after the ordination of her first ones, the apostles.

So, a tort attorney can brag, “I’m not resting until there’s a ‘going-out-of-business’ sign in front of every Catholic Church.”

So columnists can say that this scandal only shows that the Church has to conform her “paleo-teaching” on faith and morals to this “enlightened, liberated” era, forgetting that the scandals hardly came because of Church teaching but because people ignored it.

So commentators will predict that the Church will now obviously collapse under the pressure of this scandal, and the days of the Church having any normative say in the lives of her people or in culture are numbered.

Wrong... We’ve been through it all before, starting with our first batch of priests and bishops.

Pardon the Latin, but, ecclesia semper reformanda: the Church always needs reform.

Actually, the sin and scandal in some—a very small minority—of Church leaders really shows that the Holy Spirit is in charge. As the British historian Lord Macaulay observed, “No mere human institution could have survived a fortnight!”

Which is another reason we need Sunday Mass, what I’ve been writing about lately. To quit going to Sunday Mass because of the sin and scandal among a few priests, sisters and bishops is like refusing to vote because we’re fed up with Washington, or like refusing to go to a doctor because there have been some real quacks.

Most spasms of scandal, sin, embarrassment and shock—like now—lead to renewal and purification in the Church, making her stronger and more effective.

That’s not natural. It’s supernatural.

Ask St. Peter...ask Philip...ask our resilient Catholic faithful...ask Mario Cuomo.

In the end, it’s not about us anyway. It’s all about Jesus.

He assured us that “the gates of hell will not prevail against the Church.” He didn't assure us they wouldn’t keep trying.