Pastor's Corner

Not passing when the hat is passed

2012-01-21T06:45:00.000-08:00

First, some business: My congratulations and thanks to all of you who participated in the Cardinal’s Appeal this year. As you can see in the accompanying insert from the Archdiocese, the Appeal raised a record amount last year, mainly to assist all those in Washington who look to the Church when they have true needs that cannot, or will not, be met by anyone else.

As for our part in that, Saint Bernadette was assigned a goal of just over $139,000. We pledged over $160,000, but actually contributed only 137,070 by the time the Appeal closed accounts this month. What happened to that $27,000? I don’t know – things come up, folks get distracted, our eyes are bigger than our stomachs even when it comes to giving. But remember this in coming Appeals when it seems that already enough has been pledged to meet our goal. Not everyone can or will follow through on those pledges, so we still need you!

The other fun fact is that our participation this year up again: 455 households donated (or pledged, I don’t know which), which seems respectable at 42.55 percent of the 1,082 households currently registered in our parish. Interestingly, this is very near the percentage and count of households who participate in our parish offertory. Now that number may not strike you as being quite so respectable, especially if you give steadily and know from experience how important that is to your relationship with Christ! I don’t want to alarm folks, but will mention further that the percentage of parishioners who give steadily is lower still.

It is a tough sell in this demanding world to point out that we need to give – we need to give in order to live. There is so much insistence that the opposite is true; this call to give can seem a small voice indeed. It is the still, small voice of God Himself; the voice crying in the wilderness; and in fact the very Word, who took flesh and dwelt among us. This is my beloved Son; listen to Him!

Now for a story. In July of 1978, the Smith family was returning to Alabama from a three-week, 6,000 mile journey through the American and Canadian West, from Pike’s Peak to Columbia Icefields, including Banff, Lake Louise, Glacier, and Yellowstone parks. Having stopped in St. Joseph, Missouri, for their second-to-last night in a hotel, they awoke to find a message at the desk informing them that their Oldsmobile station wagon had been robbed overnight. There was little in the car to steal, but among the items taken was the tote containing undeveloped rolls of vacation pictures from several of the family’s cameras, and one cherished souvenir: a black cowboy hat from Calgary.

While in Tucson last week with my parents, sister Suzy, and her family, we hiked the mountains and the desert, visited missions and galleries, and had many delightful meals, including New Mexican, Poblano, barbecue (in a train car no less!) and home-cooked. On my last afternoon in town, having seen and done everything we could think of, my folks asked if there was anything else I wanted to do before we headed back to the casita. I suggested that I would like to try to find a hat. The iPhone indicated a nearby place called Arizona Hatters.

Half an hour later, as we happily drove away from the store wondering how I could safely lug my purchase on the long plane trip, I noticed a deeper satisfaction than I could explain by the hat’s fit, shape, or color. Then I remembered that sad day in Missouri in 1978.

The ancient wrong has been righted. You’ll see the evidence about campus. God bless!

Monsignor Smith

Places to go

2012-01-07T07:22:00.000-08:00

I mentioned last week that more than two thousand people came here for Christmas. That was a pretty big number for our parish, though our church is large enough that we can handle it easily. The marvel is the number of lives that converged here in celebration of the Birth of Christ.

However, our numbers pale in comparison to an interesting attendance statistic from another quarter I read today:

MORE THAN 2.5 MILLION FAITHFUL MEET THE POPE IN 2011

VATICAN CITY, 3 JAN 2012 (VIS) - The Prefecture of the Pontifical Household has published a communiqué announcing that, during the course of 2011, 2,553,800 faithful participated in various meetings with Benedict XVI including general audiences (400,000), private audiences (101,800), liturgical celebrations (846,000), Angelus and Regina Coeli (1,206,000). These statistics, which show an increase with respect to the last three years, refer only to meetings that took place in the Vatican or Castelgandolfo, and do not include the many thousands of faithful who came to see the Holy Father on his journeys in Italy or abroad.

The Prefecture of the Pontifical Household explains that the numbers are approximate, calculated on the basis of requests to participate in meetings with the Pope and on the tickets distributed, as well as on estimations of people present at events such as the Angelus or large celebrations in St. Peter's Square. The single event which brought together the largest number of faithful was the beatification of John Paul II on 1 May.

Please note that of that, 2,553,800 faithful, thirty-five are us – pilgrims from our parish pilgrimage to Rome in October, when we joined about forty thousand others at a Wednesday General Audience with the Holy Father. And that is not counting the hundreds of thousands, probably several million, who saw the Pope on his journeys last year! I am not jealous; I know I am not in his league (though I am in league with him, ideally). How could I be jealous, when I am a fan?

I think it is great that so many people went to the effort to spend time with the Holy Father, the Vicar of Christ on earth, the Servant of the Servants of God. It reveals that they know that there is something about him that is different, special, and sacred. He is the Successor of Peter, and carries the responsibility of governing Christ’s Church. As such, he enjoys the graces that our Lord promised to Peter and all who hold that office: divine help and guidance, that the powers of death shall not prevail against it. (Mt 16:18)

The great gift that we have as Catholics is that we have places to go, things to do, and people to see. We are not locked in our minds and its abstract possibilities of drawing closer to God, or moving further away. It all started on the day that Christ was born, when the shepherd were told where to go, and whom to see. That day was holy; that place was holy; and those people – not just Jesus, but Mary, and Joseph, too – were holy. They could be seen, touched, heard, and talked to by all who had eyes to see and ears to hear.

And we few – or few thousand – are not deprived of that because we are separated from Bethlehem that night by several thousands of miles, and years. Praise be to God who came to dwell among us in human flesh, and still does, and still waits, looking to see not how many, but who shows up.

Monsignor Smith

Where Credit's Due

2011-12-31T09:24:00.000-08:00

Possibly the best ever - Christmas, that is. I am not sure, but think it may have been my number-one favorite.

I think one of the things that contributed to that was its being on a Sunday. Only one massive holy day per week seems to work best for me! Not only that, but it seemed that an extra day appeared in there during the time of preparation. Friday the 23^rd was all lagniappe for me. The offices were closed, and I had no appointments, but it wasn’t Christmas Eve yet. How great was that! I puttered and prepared, went to confession, and visited Cardinal Baum. I was still in bed early enough to get a good night’s sleep before the Big Weekend!

And big it was: I figure between twenty-two and twenty-three hundred people came through here for Christmas Mass – a cool thousand of them at the five o’clock Vigil Mass. My only regret was that I didn’t get to talk to everyone as they left the church.

Everyone who came noticed how well everything was done for the great celebration. It started the week before Christmas, when the pageants of school and Religious Ed were both super, and helped us all get ready for the coming feast. Bernie Werwinski and the Holy Name men put that cumbersome crèche together out front to show Christ’s birth to all who pass by on the boulevard.

Then, Christmas Eve morning, Elaine Vining, Kelly Weisgerber, and the church decorating posse moved will skill and vision and made the church worthy to receive her new-born King. Not to name names, but Norma, Margaret, and Dao worked for hours to get the details just right.

Then the sun set, the crowds came, and the pressure was on. Lectors, ushers, and ministers of Holy Communion made their schedules conform to the needs of the parish, and my servers were so good I wished someone were there to take pictures to send to the Pope! Our choirs were superb. Our music director Richard Fitzgerald, both choirs, the schola, and the instrumentalists made Saint Bernadette a center of glory to God in the highest. A terrific amount of work went into the preparing, and the presenting. We even had a little adversity to overcome there at the Midnight Mass! But our people made it look easy.

I am grateful to all of these for what they did for me, and for us all. And let me not forget to thank you for one major thing—your clear and confident participation in the Christmas Mass using the responses of the new translation! You were AWESOME!

The counters came in to do their work, which took a gratifyingly long while. The one penalty of having Christmas fall on a Sunday is financial: the offertory takes a hit. Reasonably, folks don’t double their giving even though Christmas doubles up with a Sunday. That may cost us fifteen grand, or more, in this year when we can ill afford it because, honestly, giving has been down. If you only gave once, it’s not too late to go back and cover that base – especially if you have anything to thank God for in 2011!

I did get one donation I was not expecting – a flat screen television. I had mentioned that we need some for our meeting rooms here. More and more resources – catechetical, organizational – are available now in video format, and we have more groups, meeting in more rooms, in the parish. So if Santa brought you a TV upgrade this year, and you have not yet decided what to do with the old one, if it’s a bigger flat screen that’s not too old, we could use it! Not to mention if you have a spare DVD player, other video accessories, or even (believe it or not) one small (portable) CD player, Saint Bernadette could use it! Most people don’t put out their wish lists after Christmas, but I’ll be happy with leftovers here. Please keep us in mind.

Because for Catholics, Christmas does not end, but begins on the 25^th, we prolonged the celebration with our first annual (we hope!) Living Nativity on Wednesday evening. John Kirk and the men of Orate Fratres really gave us a treat there – more excitement than our front lawn normally sees.

I am grateful for a truly graced year, and a beautiful Christmas. I thank God that He let me be here with you for it, a part of your family and your festivity, because there is nowhere else I would have more enjoyed being for Christmas. And I thank you for letting me be there with you, at Christmas, at the turn of the year, and any and every other day. Thank you for letting me be your priest. That’s the best gift, and the best Christmas, I have ever had.

Monsignor Smith

The Invitation of Christmas

2011-12-24T11:31:00.000-08:00

Isn’t it remarkable the power of Christmas to bring people together?

For weeks now, people have had more and more in common as they went about the business of preparing, sharing a knowing look (sometimes of joy, sometimes of frustration) with folks in line with them at the cash register, laughing with the guys at the tree lot, and all trying desperately, simultaneously, to find a parking place. Christmas is something we have in common, despite our differences and diversity.

Now that the moment is upon us, look around you in our church and see, not only the number of people here, but see how they are with one another: fathers with daughters, mothers with sons, and even in-laws sidled up close, and beaming.

In fact, one of the things that I have noticed lately is how disappointed I become when I learn that someone from our parish is going to be away for Christmas. I know, I know, it is all in the name of bringing those families together – and heaven knows plenty of us are from someplace else. But I truly miss those folks who are part of our family of faith here in Four Corners, and feel their absence on the Holy Day.

The consolation prize is all the family members who come here, some of whom I only get to see at Christmas or First Holy Communion, and those folks I get to meet for the first time, who are uniting with us in celebration because of their travels.

This is the power of Christmas to bring people together, because it is the power of God, who would be together with us. By His power, He comes among us; and by his helplessness, He draws us to Himself.

That tiny child is not only no threat, but the most marvelous invitation. That God would so humble Himself in order to share our company, by also sharing our lot, our fate, is the most marvelous invitation ever issued, the invitation received and responded to again and again in the eyes and lives of tiny children and wizened faces who recognize this great gift and mystery.

One of my favorite lines from the liturgy of Christmastime is the antiphon of Vespers in the Divine Office. It begins: O magnum mysterium, et admirabile sacramentum, ut animalia viderent Dominum natum, jacentem in praesepio, which I translate, O great mystery, and wondrous sacrament, that animals should see the new born Lord, lying in their feed trough. So descriptive of the most unlikely and most wonderful scene, it has often been set to glorious music. Though the animals could see the Lord in their midst, and could even sense their Creator’s presence, they could not be united with Him in the way that we are, whose human nature He embraced. Though it was in their feed trough that He lay, He would become food for us.

That scene, and that infant, draw us together in this holy place so that we, in similar awe and wonder, might find Him set before us not only to behold, but also as food. Partaking in His holy Body and Blood, we become able to be united not only with one another, but also with Him in His radiant holiness, perfection, and divinity. This is true unity, true Communion, indeed.

Every laugh, every wave; every greeting (yes, even “Happy Holidays,” although Merry Christmas says it better) and every kindness or courtesy extended in the crowded marketplace, not only draw us closer to one another in our humanity, but echo the invitation and possibility of being united with one another and with our saving God, in His divinity and eternal splendor. Peace on earth, indeed.

So take some time this day to marvel with me at how Christmas brings people together, especially as we become one in this Holy Communion at the center of our life as the Church.

Even if you travel in these festive days, and especially if you are joining us for the occasion or even for the first time, join me in delight in being together in the presence of our new born Lord. Thanks be to God for bringing us together in this peace.

And so in unison with Father DeRosa, the rectory staff and pastoral team, and all of us privileged to serve you in this center of our blessed Communion, I am pleased to wish you and all whom you hold dear a grace-filled and merry Christmas.

Monsignor Smith

On being heard

2011-12-17T17:24:00.000-08:00

Can you hear me now? Before the wireless company made it their slogan, that was frequently a very pertinent question – even in church.

Recently someone lent me a book about Theodore Roosevelt that discussed a campaign speech he made in Madison Square Garden in 1912 – ninety-nine years ago. It mentioned the effect of the quality of his voice (high-pitched and shrill) and noted that the loudspeaker would not be invented until the following year.

Imagine national-level politics without electronic amplification! That’s hard to do in our era of the 24-hour news cycle and viral videos, isn’t it? There is NOTHING we don’t hear – though like me, you may often wish there were.

Something else has been transformed in that same century’s time: the sacred liturgy. As children of the electronic age, we bring to church the expectation that we will hear everything at volume. The question “Can you hear me?” is often considered as if it had been “is the sound system working?”, as if nothing is audible unless coming through powered speakers.

Long before electricity, the first level of amplification at Mass was to sing, which increased the range and clarity of the words. The next level was achieved by having several people sing, and thus choirs found their role in the sacred liturgy. For many centuries, the choir would sing or chant the prayers of the Mass that most people never would have heard if only the priest had spoken them.

For homilies, folks would crowd around the pulpit, which was carefully placed in the church, and often lidded with a sounding board, to help reflect the preacher’s words toward the hearers. You can imagine how people would have to strain if they didn’t get close!

Now our expectations have swung to the opposite end of the spectrum. We expect to hear every word at Mass as we do listening to a news broadcast. But while this attention and clarity of communication have helped in some aspects of our liturgical participation, I think they have wounded others.

When the preacher is preaching, when the Sacred Scripture is being read, or even when announcements are being made, information is conveyed, so intelligibility is important. Amplification enhances the effectiveness of that communication. In other aspects of prayer and worship, understanding is not dependent upon the intelligibility of every syllable, and a clear line of sight from face to face is not essential to participation.

But the expectation has taken hold that the priest or minister, whenever he speaks, is speaking to us, facing us, and conveying information. This has resulted in our own time in a liturgical praxis that often has the priest behaving like a newscaster, entertainer, or some other “talking head,” when in fact he is leading the people in prayer to Almighty God.

Not everyone can be gifted enough to have the kind of high-pitched, shrill voice that is prized for great orators, so I concede the usefulness of microphones in the sacred liturgy. But before you count yourself left out of some aspect of worship that does not sound as if it were coming out of your television or radio, let the psalmist remind you that at the heart of our worship for millennia the question has been the other way round: Lord, hear my voice! Let thy ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications! (Ps 130:2) I paraphrase: O God, can you hear me now?

Monsignor Smith

Signposts in a Strange Land

2011-12-10T14:26:00.000-08:00

One Pink Candle and Other Curious Signposts – that’s my title for the talk I gave to the RCIA group this week. Obviously, it refers to this week’s unique phenomenon signifying Gaudete Sunday, our day in Advent dedicated to rejoicing.

Gaudete Sunday takes its name from the first word of the Introit or Entrance Antiphon for the Third Sunday in Advent: Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near. (Phil 4: 4-5)

The lecture introduced our inquirers to the fact that Christian worship is characteristically liturgical, and went over some of the aspects of the Catholic liturgy, including feasts and seasons, vesture and posture. The form and content of our liturgy is received from the Church and her tradition, to form our prayer and practice, and inform our faith. This lecture is always fun to give, since there are so many concrete and colorful examples to discuss – like this week’s Advent candle.

Oddly, though, in recent decades, American Catholics have lost sight of this element of the Mass, its proper antiphons. They are called proper because they are different for every day, feast, Mass, or occasion. Every Mass has three: the Introit, the Offertory, and the Communion. They are related to the Scriptural readings of the Mass and are often themselves based on Scripture, and are combined with selected verses from an appropriate psalm.

Possibly because the translations into English were slow to be available after the changes forty years ago, and possibly because musical settings were nearly non-existent, in most places they have been replaced with generic songs or hymns.

With the introduction of the new translation of the Missal, however, the Church has renewed all of its texts, and emphasized the value of all of them to the full celebration of the Mass. Since the texts, including the antiphons, have been available to composers for some years now in anticipation of their introduction, there are musical settings of them available.

I hope you have noticed and appreciated that, since summer, at all of our Masses with music, we have had these antiphons sung by the cantor or choir, and the text available to read in the program. It has preceded, but not supplanted, the songs we have grown accustomed to singing. On some occasions, the congregational song is clearly chosen because of its relation to this antiphon.

This is all part of our effort, encouraged by our Holy Father and the informed leaders of our Church, to sing the Mass rather than simply sing at Mass. Coupled with the new musical settings necessitated by the new texts of the commons of the Mass (which are those parts we sing or say every Sunday, like the Gloria, or the Lamb of God) this makes for a lot of new music.

Novelty can be exciting, but in liturgy it can also be unsettling. One of the key elements to liturgical worship is familiarity and repetition. For this reason, in introducing these antiphons this year, at the same time we have been learning the new Mass parts, we have not reduced or removed any of the songs or hymns that we previously had been singing at Mass.

So I hope that this Gaudete Sunday you appreciate hearing sung the full antiphon that is the reason we call it Gaudete Sunday. Along with that familiar pink candle, it is another beautiful signpost pointing our way to the heaven on earth that is our full participation in the Sacred Liturgy.

Monsignor Smith

The Church is Young

2011-12-03T13:31:00.000-08:00

Did you know that this is the longest possible Advent? Since Christmas is on a Sunday this year, we have four full weeks of Advent, which started on the earliest possible date, November 27. Of course, that does not change the number of Advent Sundays, which I usually use for bulletin letters to share with you some insights into the Sacred Liturgy.

There is no shortage of material on that subject this year, since we have begun to use the new Missal. If you look back, this is what I was talking about last Advent; and I was using this space for the past few weeks to help make sure you were ready. I am not sure how much I helped, but I do want to say: you did a great job. Thank you.

Everybody approached the challenge of the change with great good nature and generosity. That in itself is a gift of the Spirit and an indication of your gracious disposition to receive the gifts the Church offers you. I am very proud of our parish.

I received many comments after the debut Masses last weekend. What surprised me the most was that three people commented something to the effect of: That’s the new translation? I already know that; it is the way I learned the Mass growing up – in Spanish.

I emphasized that the new translation is more faithful to the original Latin than the first English Missal. But because of that new fidelity, we now say the same things in English that Catholics around the world say in French, Spanish, German, Igbo, Japanese, and Hungarian. Unlike before, when the English said similar things, we now say the same words in the same way. What a gift!

The other thing was the questions that people asked: What does it mean when we say, Lord I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof? (That is a direct quote from Matthew 8:8, when the centurion wants Jesus to heal his paralyzed servant.) What was that big word in the Creed,…consubstantial? (The Creed was formulated carefully by the Church Fathers at the Council of Nicaea almost 1700 years ago, to be the very, very clear formulation of Christian belief. That is the English form of the precise word chosen to assert that God the Father and God the Son, Jesus Christ, are of the same substance. )

So now that we have these new texts, I have no shortage of explaining that I can do here, and in my homilies, because it brings to light so many elements of our Faith and prayer that had been hidden or disguised before. The fact that the text is new and different means we will be noticing these words and expressions more readily, before we make them part of our reflexive participation. So this is a wonderful time for all of us to deepen our knowledge and understanding.

Meanwhile, we have to get good at this by Christmas, so we can lead everyone who comes then in the new prayers. You could not help but notice how we priests were glued to the text, craning our necks and straining our eyes to read every word, whereas before we had many of the prayers committed to memory. I felt like a newly-ordained priest again, anxious not to make a mistake. This long Advent, beginning our lifetime of knowing and loving these words of the Holy Mass, is a wonderful time for us all to be young again together.

Monsignor Smith

Who Would Prevent Advent

2011-11-26T09:12:00.000-08:00

It is all over now: the fabulous display of reds and oranges on the “October Glory” maple trees on our front green. Where the CYO and Scouts will be setting up the Christmas tree lot this weekend, there was the most splendid array of color and life that made us all pause as we came or went from church or school over the past few weeks. Not only we stopped; numerous passersby on University Boulevard pulled into our parking lot and wandered around, grinning, marveling, and taking photographs.

One parishioner came up to me after Mass one Sunday when the trees were ablaze and said, “whatever you do as Pastor, don’t cut down those trees!” I laughed and pointed out that I may reluctantly do just that to one or the other, as I did this spring with one dying maple, but as evidence that I have no intention of eliminating them, I showed him where I have also planted three or four new ones.

Another parishioner stood with me one morning as I was enjoying the trees (see, I told you we all stopped and looked – I did it every day for two weeks!). She said she had just been speaking about them to Bishop David Foley, who was the second Pastor of Saint Bernadette (1975 – 1983) when they were planted. He had laughed and told her that until then, that space was simply lawn, and when the trees were planned, a group of parishioners noisily complained, and insisted they liked the lawn just as it was, and did not want its simplicity and perfection spoiled.

We can laugh now about those folks who did not want the trees planted, wondering at what we all would have missed if they had got their way. I am sure the lawn was beautiful. I know it was useful – for years, the parish hosted a carnival out there that drew folks from all over. I am still grateful to the founders of the parish for not paving it all into one huge parking lot stretching all the way to the boulevard. But I am just as grateful for those trees, that give us privacy and buffer the noise from the roads seven or eight months of the year. And two weeks of the year, they are our own local Natural Wonder of the World.

When you have something good – very good, even – it can be hard to imagine that any change would make it better.

This weekend, the Church around the world changes something, something that was very good: how we celebrate Mass in English. The new translation changes your responses and all the prayers that we priests have to say. At least at first, we will all have our noses buried in our books or pew cards, stumbling through unfamiliar words that do not come naturally.

It will be hard for everybody. Some folks will grumble privately, others object publicly, that this is an affront or a mistake. But the Church is still guided by the Holy Spirit; and hundreds of talented, knowledgeable, and faithful people, who love the Mass and love you, have worked for decades to bring this to this point, where not to change would be a disservice to not only us but to future generations as well.

As deep as your love for the Mass, as beautiful as your experiences were of Jesus with the old translation, I promise you that this will only enhance and improve that love, that beauty, and your future experience. Just as our maple trees made our beautiful lawn exponentially richer and more marvelous, so will this change bring you more beauty, more truth, and even more color. Your love for the Mass is not over now; this is a new Advent.

Monsignor Smith

Springtime in November

2011-11-19T13:15:00.000-08:00

Most people think of spring cleaning, but here it is late autumn, and I am hard at it. It started with my bedroom, then my study. Aside from a few odds and ends, the clutter is principally in one category: reading material. Once I throw out the magazines, file the articles, and put the maps back, that leaves: books.

Books I read and loved, books I started and never had the oomph to finish, books I swore I would get to, and books I cannot figure out why I have; books I pulled to check a point for a homily, favorite books I revisited after many years, and books I never want to see again. They all have to go somewhere. I shelve them, share them, or most painfully of all, sometimes just get rid of them.

This fall, though, this project extends from my shelves to the sacristies, since in two weeks time we begin using the new English translation of the Missal. The new Missals for the church, the chapel, and for our offices have been coming in over the past few weeks, and they are wonderful – large, beautiful, well made liturgical books. But that presents a dilemma of its own – what to do with the old ones?

We have two in the sanctuary of the church, and one on the altar in the chapel. But we also have old copies in the sacristy cabinets that wore out or began to fall apart and were no longer fit to be used in the Sacred Liturgy. Nobody rebinds books anymore – trust me, I have looked. Not only missals, though, but also lectionaries accumulate. We changed lectionary translations back in 1999 (remember that?), and it comes in different volumes – Sunday, weekday, Years A, B, & C, etc.), so we have piles of the old version stored, plus newer ones that already were used to the point of disintegration.

I hate to throw away any books, but these are sacred books, so they cannot just go in the trash. So we have kept them. But with this new change, we just don’t have the room for more of that.

We will continue the parish practice of keeping an archival copy of these important books. We still have a 1965 Missal, which is the version from right after the Second Vatican Council that has both Latin and English in it. Hardly anyone even remembers those; even fewer actually have one. We will keep one copy of the old lectionary, and at least one copy of the Missal that will conclude its forty years service this month. I will carefully save any other volume that could be historically significant. On my shelves, I’ll keep my personal copy that Cardinal Hickey inscribed and gave to me the day he ordained me a Priest.

But all the others are stacked and ready to be disposed of properly. How is that, you ask? Some authorities have suggested burying them in the church cemetery. We don’t have a churchyard, so I am going to take a page form my Boy Scout training and burn them, with decorum and respect. We have a high regard for these books, after all.

The Missal that I bought for myself in Rome as a seminarian so I could begin learning how to say Mass, I will consign to the flames. We have been using it at the chair in church since its predecessor became unusable a few years ago. I knew the change was coming and saw no need to pay for a new one or keep that copy on my shelves.

All this cleaning because we are getting new books. After the initial awkwardness of changing the language we use at Mass, the new Missal translation will kindle a new awareness in all of us of the beauty, riches, and depth of our most perfect and powerful prayer, the Mass. So I expect this fall cleaning will bring about a new springtime, after all.

Monsignor Smith

Getting religion

2011-11-12T11:42:00.001-08:00

What, you didn’t know that I am not religious? I got that impression Sunday.

Technically speaking, I am not religious but secular. I just googled that and learned that there are a number of essays out there in which believing Christians would be included under the term “religious”, and atheists under “secular.” I am NOT that kind of secular.

According to long-standing Church understanding, however, “religious” are people under vows within a specific religious community, what you might know best as an order: Benedictines, Franciscans, Dominicans and the like. Their members, men and woman, ordained or not, are religious: nuns, monks, brothers, and yes, priests.

I, however, am not under vows and not a member of an order. I made solemn promises, not vows, when I was ordained, and am attached to a place, not an order: the Archdiocese of Washington. One of my promises was obedience to my bishop – currently Cardinal Wuerl, already my third Archbishop since ordination. Another was celibacy. The third was prayer – to pray the Liturgy of the Hours (the Divine Office) daily, in union with and for the Church.

The vow of poverty is a mark of life “in religion.” It is not a measure of how well they live, or how much they have, but the distinction that everything they have is provided by and property of the community. Some communities provide more than others.

Not me. I get paid a salary, the amount of which is fixed by the Archdiocese. The line between parish funds and my personal funds is very, very clear. I pay taxes, including Social Security (15.9% -- oof!). I invest in my retirement fund, a 403(b) instead of a 401(k). I have excellent health insurance, but make the co-payments. I make charitable donations, including to both the parish offertory and Cardinal’s Appeal.

You see how worldly that sounds -- mired in a lot of the same considerations you are? We don’t just live among you, but we live like you. I have to keep track of all this stuff – vowed religious do not. That’s why we’re called secular. In Church law it is considered a “less perfect” form of life than being “in religion,” which means that if we want to “upgrade” to religious life (e.g., go join a monastery) our bishop cannot stop us (though he can slow us down).

You may not lie awake thinking about this, but it is worth your attention for a moment. It came up in the context of the collection for the Retirement Fund for the Priests of the Archdiocese. Like many pension funds, it is severely under-funded now. You wouldn’t think that would be a problem, since we are not supposed to retire until we are 75!

Some parishes are run by religious priests; some have schools staffed by religious women. Some folks go to colleges or universities run and staffed by religious communities, men or women.

For most folks, the principal encounter with Christ, His Church, and his sacraments, is through a secular, that is diocesan, parish priest. We are not dramatic; we are simply here. We tend the household of the Faith. Your friendly, neighborhood priest is likely not religious; not in that sense, anyway.

Now that I have admitted that I am not religious, I hope you won’t be startled if I continue to try to get all of you to be more so.

Monsignor Smith

Dasein

2011-11-05T06:14:00.000-07:00

Even Jesus had to get away. More to the point, he took his disciples off to a remote location – “up the mountain” or “into the desert” -- when he wanted to get everyone onto the same page. So there is a precedent.

A few years back, Cardinal McCarrick started holding a Convocation for the priests of the Archdiocese of Washington. I missed the first one because I was living in Rome working for Cardinal Baum. Now it may surprise you to learn that when the Archbishop say, Hey Guys we’re all going to get away and be together and talk about things that are important to priests and the Archdiocese, that not all the priests respond immediately with Hey, great; I can hardly wait! There was some skepticism. Cardinal McCarrick, ever an astute observer of human – and priestly — nature, planned for that, and said it was mandatory and required a direct, personal exemption from him to miss it.

In the defense of us diocesan priest-types, I have to point out that the center of our job description is being here – here to celebrate the sacraments for you, here to respond to your questions and needs, here to take care of the church, and the parish, and the school; here to answer the door, whether it is the mailman, someone lost on University Boulevard, a parishioner in need of confession, the HVAC repair guy, or trick-or-treaters. An awful lot happens here, but that’s another story. So, truly one of the hardest things for us to do is be away. Harder still is to propose that we ALL be away. That is somehow….not what we are for.

So, on this Convocation, all the priests of the Archdiocese get to be together at a hotel and meeting center over in Cambridge, Maryland. We have Mass together and pray together – we even set up a Blessed Sacrament Chapel, right there in what most people think is a ballroom. We have talks by Cardinal Wuerl and some invited speakers, break into working groups, and have a chance for private meetings with the Boss for whatever we want to talk about. We eat and hang out together, some guys play golf together – but November is “off season” for a reason, and the weather does not always permit that.

After that first Convocation, and maybe the second, guys didn’t need to be told it was mandatory anymore. We all discovered that it is something worth doing, worth even leaving the parish without its priests for two whole days. So without threat or penalty, a large percentage of us show up, because it is a good thing to do.

So this week, Fr. DeRosa and I will be away for a couple of days. Father Nick used to tend the store when these things happened, and you all know how good he was at that. This year, Father Clint McDonell, whom many of you have encountered as he celebrates a Sunday Mass here most weeks, will be doing us this great favor. So thank him if you see him for making it possible for us to be away, because once we have done that we will be better at being here, with you and for you as your priests.

Speaking of the doorbell, we were completely overrun here at the Holy House of Soubirous on Halloween. I gave out everything I could lay hands on, and still they kept coming – well over 120 of them! So, if you are one of the masked monsters who left my doorstep with an IOU – come and get it! We are restocked and ready. Just bring that IOU; odds are, one of us will be here.

Monsignor Smith

Understanding our Mother

2011-10-29T16:22:00.000-07:00

Would you believe a scandalous story about your mother that was told by someone who loved neither her, nor you?

Most of us are not famous. We do not face the morning papers with delight or dread at the prospect of an article or an op-ed piece that paints us in a good or bad light. Our relationships are more direct, less mediated by third parties.

Still, some of us get our moment in the news. This is Washington, and sometimes our employers or organizations get the spotlight for at least a moment. Friends or family members enjoy or hate their fifteen minutes of fame.

We have some taste of how unfair and inaccurate even the simplest and most straightforward news coverage can be. If we are honest with ourselves, that little insight makes us highly skeptical of everything we read, watch, or hear about other folks. We know it is not the whole story, not enough to claim we know a person or an event accurately and fairly. The simple process of preparing a news story is itself enough to distort a person’s character simply by emphasizing the immediately interesting and omitting the everyday experience.

We would not allow CNN or the Washington Post to change our minds about someone we know well. We would discredit Fox News or Drudge before we took their word over the story we heard from our close friend or family member. This would be the most common of common sense.

Oddly, though, many American Catholics allow an assortment of strangers and enemies to shape their knowledge and understanding of the Church. Journalists and academics, even when being faithful to the standards of their profession, do not seek to understand or explain the faith and life of the Catholic Church according to criteria or characteristics valued by her faithful ministers or members, much less her divine Founder.

In seeking the story or sensation, journalists have no time for the mundane reality of daily prayer and penance. In explaining her actions and history, academics resort too often to measures of power and politics. We wouldn’t believe this stuff if they were saying it about our moms, so why should we credit it when they are talking about Holy Mother, the Church?

That’s what Father Jim Barron, a gifted Chicago priest, theologian, and teacher, and a number of his friends decided. They have compiled a ten-episode video series entitled Catholicism that explains the Church in terms Jesus would have used, and ways people who know her best can recognize her. They traveled the globe to speak of every aspect of her life in front of the most vivid, and often most beautiful, examples of those elements.

Some of the episodes are being run on public television – MPT carried two. The ten-DVD series is easily available on the internet. Episodes will be shown and discussed by several groups in the parish in coming months. You should give your attention to this lesson. It is an opportunity, rare enough these days, to learn about the Church from someone who loves both her, and you.

Monsignor Smith

Not Exaggerated

2011-10-22T05:00:00.000-07:00

You’re dead. Not the I-had-a-really-hard-day kind of dead; not the if-they-catch-me-doing-this kind, either; no, classic, old-fashioned, the-life-is-gone-out-of-you dead. Not alive anymore. Now what?

Well, first of all, there’s nothing you can do about it. Really – you’re dead, so the time for doing, or deciding, is over. You are passive, but aware.

You are annoyed to find out that you are not in heaven, which you expected because you’ve seen too many movies. You ask, whatever happened to For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16)?

Yes, that salvation is achieved once and for all in Christ Jesus by His perfect sacrifice on the cross. But it is not achieved in you – not totally anyway, not yet. All those little things are stuck to you, weighing you down. At least they seemed little to you at the time you grabbed them. Oh, God wouldn’t send me to hell for this.

You were right about one thing – God wouldn’t send you to hell; He would have you with Him in glory! But that seemed so eventual then, back when you got to choose how you spent your time, what you had around you. You wanted to hold on to those other things, things that seemed important, delightful, or just fun. Now they are holding on to you, holding you back from heaven. Now you can’t let go! You can’t do anything! You’re dead.

By the mercy of Christ you’re in Purgatory, which may not sound like good news, but it is because you’re not in hell. That would have required a conscious rejection of Christ’s offer of salvation, renunciation of your Baptism into His death and resurrection, or a conscious choosing of grave sin without repenting. There’s only one place to go from Purgatory, and that’s heaven. But you can’t get yourself there. You need help! So you ask yourself, who will help me?

Whom did you ask to help you, back when you could do things? Did you teach your children to pray for you? Did you tell them to have the Holy Mass offered for you, not only a funeral Mass, but others as well, on the month’s mind, on the anniversary? Do they know how to pray the rosary? Who will offer up their pains and sufferings for you, even do penance for you? Who will help detach those “little” sins from you so that you can move toward the glory? Who will help you with that spiritual maintenance and upkeep that you never quite got around to, when you were still able to do for yourself?

Next month is the month of All Souls, set aside every year to remember the ones who have gone before us, everyone whose goodness we knew, everyone who loved us and whom we loved. We remember some that we just know are going to need some help. And we help them!

Compile your list, and use the All Souls envelopes to place their names on our Holy Altar to be prayed for at Mass every day in November. Put your sacrifice for them right inside. Say a prayer daily for the Souls in Purgatory. Offer it up. Light a candle. Come to Mass on November 2 – that’s right, the second day in a row – and bring the intentions of your beloved dead with you. While you can still decide and do, bring your children, teach them, and show them. They’ll learn how much you count on their prayers. Because without them, you’re dead.

Monsignor Smith

What we do for one another

2011-10-15T19:31:00.000-07:00

Our Holy Father Pope Benedict wants us to focus with him on prayer. That is one of the many things our pilgrims learned during our time with him last week. In his catecheses during his weekly general audiences, he is addressing prayer, and last week he focused particularly on Psalm 23 – the Lord is my shepherd. This is particularly appropriate to us Americans because the popularity of this psalm with our Protestant brothers and sisters has probably made it the equivalent of a chart-topper. But how often do we Catholics remember that it is in fact a prayer?

Said the Pope: Turning to Lord in prayer involves a radical act of trust, in the awareness that one is entrusting oneself to God who is good, "merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness" (Exodus 34:6-7; Psalm 86:15; cf. Joel 2:13; Genesis 4:2; Psalm 103:8; 145:8; Nehemiah 9:17). For this reason, today I would like to reflect with you on a Psalm that is wholly imbued with trust, in which the psalmist expresses the serene certainty that he is guided and protected, and kept safe from every danger, because the Lord is his shepherd.

Of course, he said that in Italian – but gave a synopsis in English, and spoke some seven or eight other languages too, to teach and greet the thirty to forty thousand pilgrims who were with us in the square that day. He gave us his blessing, which he assured us we could bring home to you. It was good for us to be with our shepherd – Christ’s vicar, who shepherds His flock upon earth.

I am thrilled to learn how well you all thrived without your (local) shepherd for the days I was away. Father DeRosa did a fine job of keeping an eye on things. The Fall Festival and associated events were a great success, despite some disappointing weather. I thank chairmen Lauren Draley and Stanley and Jessica Barsch for doing such a great job of pulling it together, and the Knights of Columbus, Boy Scouts, Holy Name guys, and all the volunteers and sponsors who made it work so well.

We parish priests count on your prayers for us and for the parish, in extraordinary times and day to day. Your prayer is a vital support for the work not only of the priests but also of the whole community. We priests just get the chance more than you to see the need, direct the grace, and often, see the results of all your prayer.

Our pilgrimage was characterized by prayer as well. Everywhere we went – Saint Catherine’s Siena, Saint Francis’ Assisi, the catacombs and the basilicas of Rome, we offered Mass, and we always, always prayed for the parish and all the intentions that had been entrusted to us. In our rosaries and in our visits to the sacred places, we brought your needs with us to the Lord.

Deacon Patrick Lewis and thirty-four others were ordained in splendor, and now have a license to preach and assist at the Holy Altar. Deacon Lewis was radiant with grace and looks forward to being ordained a priest here, in Washington’s basilica, next June 16. Do not neglect him in your prayers!

As this week in our most powerful prayer, the Holy Mass, we begin using the musical settings of the new English translation, let me share with you a Latin phrase that sums up the fabric of our relationship: Oremus pro invicem. It means, let us pray for one another. Our Holy Father Pope Benedict wants us to focus with him on prayer. Together here, or on separate continents, Oremus pro invicem.

Monsignor Smith

Separation Anxiety

2011-10-01T11:11:00.000-07:00

This is one of my favorite weekends of the year at Saint Bernadette. Oktoberfest, Becca’s Run, and the Fall Festival combine with (please God!) fabulous weather to bring our parish and many of our neighbors and friends together for fun. I love it. But this year I am missing it!

Patrick Lewis, who grew up here in our parish and is now a seminarian for our Archdiocese, will be ordained a Deacon in Saint Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican on Thursday, October 6. This is a great moment not only for him, but also for the parish, and I wanted it to be the occasion for a pilgrimage of our parishioners to Rome.

I have seen this conflict coming for years. The diaconate ordinations for the Pontifical North American College in Rome are always the first week of October; mine was October 3, 1996, and Father DeRosa’s was October 4, 2007 (I was there). The Fall Festival and accompanying events always fall on the weekend before Columbus Day. Rather than try to fiddle with the schedule, I reluctantly decided I would have to miss the big weekend.

Never before have I taken a group on such a pilgrimage, though the better part of nine years of my life was spent in Rome. I know how much a visit to the holy places there can strengthen one’s understanding of the Faith and the Church. We will visit the tomb of Saint Peter, and attend an audience with his successor, Pope Benedict XVI. Before we make our way to Rome, our group will visit Siena, and the shrine of Saint Catherine there; Assisi, and the Basilicas of Saint Francis and Saint Clare; and Orvieto, where we will see evidence of the Eucharistic miracle that gave birth to the Feast of Corpus Christi.

In the time left over from the official tour, the few, the proud, and the foolish will accompany me on a little wander of my own devising called “The Bataan Death-March Tour of Early Christian Rome.” That exaggerates slightly its difficulty, but it does take effort to touch the first, third, and fourth centuries of Christian worship and life, walk through a door that was carved and hung in 432; pray beneath mosaics from the sixth and seventh centuries, as well as some from the twelfth century designed to resemble those “old” ones; and stand nose-to-nose with frescoes painted in the ninth century that depict Christ’s descent among the dead and Mary’s Assumption into heaven – all in the same day. Especially when you remember that Rome is a city built on hills – seven of them.

So please, in addition to your prayers for good weather for the festival weekend, please pray for soon-to-be-deacon Patrick Lewis and his classmates, that their hearts be disposed to receive the full grace and power of the Holy Spirit as they enter Holy Order. Pray too not only for the safety of us who are on pilgrimage, but also that our hearts be touched and opened by our experience of the Faith and the Church, and we be drawn closer not only to one another but to the saints of God, and Him toward whom our entire earthly pilgrimage is directed.

I am sorry not to be with you this weekend, but heaven knows it is not as if you cannot enjoy yourselves without me! As I pray at the shrines of the Apostles, and in my pastor’s heart as I join our Supreme Pastor, you will be in my prayers.

Monsignor Smith

No pain, no gain

2011-09-24T11:40:00.000-07:00

Father DeRosa was just telling me how much he and many of the other seminarians with him at the North American College hated it when they were forced to learn new music for the Mass. Hmm. I liked it – unless it was bad music. In fact, I remember when some music was introduced to the seminarians – over grumbling and complaint – that a few years later had become indispensable, essential parts of what all the seminarians at that time loved about the music in the chapel. Ah well; different experiences.

But I think both experiences are going to come into play for most people as we move to take up the new translation of the Mass. One of the things that Father DeRosa correctly observed was that it may be overwhelming to some when many things change at once. Sure, the hymns and chants that we sing at Mass will continue, but all of the sung Mass parts will change, along with many of the spoken texts. That will be disorienting, and may result in some frustration.

One of the steps we are taking to alleviate frustration is that we will introduce the new sung parts early – the weekend of October 16. This was actually the idea of the Bishops’ Conference. They correctly observed that First Advent is a terrible time to start new music – not least because we omit the Gloria during Advent! This will give us all time to come up to speed on the sung portions, and have them under our belts when the rest of the texts change (and you get “your Spirit” back!). Not only that, but we’ll all know the Gloria when it comes back with the angels and the shepherds at Christmas – and we will be able help the folks who have not been here since Easter.

Our music director, Richard Fitzgerald, and I just chose the Mass settings with which we will be starting. Already there must be fifty different settings available. The great thing is that the internet makes it possible to listen to them and review the scores without leaving my office! We picked chant-style settings that are fairly simple, but have enough character to them that they will hold up for bigger celebrations. We think they will be easy to learn and rewarding to master. After a while, we intend to broaden our range of settings. For now, though, I think one of each will be plenty.

Still, it will be a lot of work. I was much encouraged by your response last week to my exposition of the new translation. I think it is pretty clear that this is wildly exciting for me. That motivation will help me to get through the practical challenges of re-learning the Mass that is at the center of my day and of my life. I hope you, too, find the good in it that will excite you enough to energize you for the work of making the transition. I promise it will be worth it.

If you are interested in learning more, there are resources readily available. Last week I recommended the Catholic Standard – so every one we had was picked up. Great! But you can still find that online: http://www.cathstan.org/. Our Archdiocese has resources for you, compiled by my friend, Fr. Mark Knestout: http://site.adw.org/new-roman-missal; so does the Bishops’ Conference, at http://old.usccb.org/romanmissal/.

Even Father DeRosa is willing to learn the new music, so eager is he for the arrival of this new translation. For my part, I can guarantee that there will be no bad music. And in a few years we will all be delighted to have what will be indispensable, essential parts of what we love about the Mass.

Monsignor Smith

Transitions

2011-09-18T07:04:00.000-07:00

You get used to the summer. Most of it, I liked. The phones rang about one fifth as often; the doorbell, about a third. Evening meetings were a once-a-week thing. I got some reading done, and even watched some DVDs I had hoped to catch.

Other things, though I may not prefer them, I also got used to. Weekend Masses are emptier and quieter. But you get used to the summer.

Labor Day weekend I thought, wow, look at all the people here – I guess nobody went to the beach after the hurricane. But last weekend I was astonished. The crowds were amazing – the nine and the eleven seemed big as Christmas, with my summer-expectations still going. Five o’clock and seven-thirty were big too. It was great to see everybody. I hope you thought so too. Welcome back, everyone!

My mother’s family used to spend the whole summer at their lake house when she was a kid; I thought that was a thing of the past, since we got maybe two weeks. I am amazed at how many people here go away for all, or most, of the summer. What a privilege and gift to be able to do that.

Also, I couldn’t help but notice all the new faces. I could not keep up with them, much less the names. Welcome, welcome to you as well. Please remind me once or twice so I can learn your names, and if I missed you this time, please catch me some time soon.

I hope all you who have grown to love being part of Saint Bernadette will join me in greeting and welcoming our newcomers. You are one of the best things they will find about being here!

Not only that, but was it not great to have the choirs back? Richard and the cantor(s) of the day do an excellent job of keeping us singing even throughout the summer, but nothing can beat that rich, strong joy of the choir leading us and sustaining us in the power-prayer that is song. Thank goodness you are back, and thank you for your service!

Last week also marked the beginning of religious education, and what a crowd that drew as well. Our new Director of Religious Education, Richard Budd, had everything in place and a great crew of catechists ready to greet all the families and students. If that is how well things go his first time out of the gate, I cannot wait to see what happens when he really comes up to speed.

Now that we are all back to work and ready to get serious, this weekend marks the beginning of our preparation for another big upgrade in our life and worship here at Saint Bernadette, and around the world, in fact. Everywhere that Mass is celebrated in the English language, a new translation of the texts and prayers will be introduced. Everything we do will be just as you are accustomed, but some of the lines you say, and a lot of the lines we priests say, will be improved and enriched by changing some wording.

Change is hard. We will be talking about this lot over the coming weeks in anticipation of implementation on 27 November – First Advent, the Sunday after Thanksgiving. You can get used to anything, like we get used to summer. But when the time comes to step up and make it better, you will always be glad you did.

Monsignor Smith

The Word that vanquishes

2011-09-10T11:40:00.000-07:00

Why celebrate the anniversary of an evil act?

On this tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, we are surrounded by remembrances and reflections, and it is a worthy thing to mark this day with solemnity. “Lest we forget” is a common slogan, but like December 7, 1941, some dates live in infamy, and it can serve us well to recall the root of that infamy.

It was not the day, but the evil men did in it, that changed so many aspects of our lives and have colored every day since then. The war on terror, Afghanistan, Iraq, Guantanamo, Threat Level, DHS, DNI, TSA and innumerable restrictions to be observed upon approaching air travel are commonplace this day because of what happened that day.

For many people the consequences were tragic, but it was no tragedy. Deliberate decision resulted in deadly action not by faceless forces but by human beings who were capable of and called to love. Their rejection of that call revealed anew to a society grown complacent that a free act is not simply by its freedom a good act.

Nonetheless, in the very instant of that incinerating denial of human dignity, there began a response, and a rebuttal. The selfless rush to aid the victims by first responders, and the informed sacrifice of passengers who refused to allow their plane to be used as a weapon, showed that when threatened by death, love will rear up and show its superior strength.

That was only the beginning. The whole nation stood and recognized what freedom is for. Sacrifice and service characterized the hours and days that followed, and in the wake of that sinister and selfish act, spread a renewed gratitude for every life and love that was left, intact or injured.

With time that diminishes. We remind ourselves now of the shock, the pain, the loss. We attempt to renew our resolve, but are distracted by the demands of this day. We see photographs and faces and feel for a moment that sublime bond of human kinship that was so strong when our weakness had been so plainly revealed, but that feeling quickly fades.

It is worth remembering the deeds of that day to pray for the souls who died, or suffered, or lost. It is worth remembering the evil of the day to recall that our adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking some one to devour. (1 Peter 5:8)

For we are all vulnerable to evil, and we are all prone to sin. Not all human actions are good actions, just because they are freely chosen. Not all our free actions are good, just because they are ours. The scale need not be huge, nor the victims many, but when we choose selfishness, tragedy results.

We remember the day and its darkness to recall not the necessity, not the inevitability, but the possibility of light. We are capable of both, or either, but we must both choose and act. Sacrifice and service can transform acts of selfishness and sin into life-giving events. Love is stronger than death.

Why celebrate the anniversary of an evil act? The same reason each year we mark the day when men convinced of their righteousness killed God’s own Son. Not then, not now, does evil get the last word.

Monsignor Smith