By Evelyn Zappia
At St. Mary’s Cathedral, Archbishop William J. Levada celebrated a noontime Mass on Jan. 22, the 30th Anniversary of the Supreme Court Roe v Wade decision, a decision the Archbishop described as "opening the doors wide to abortion on demand in our society." He asked the gathering "to pray to our gracious God, if it is his will, that we may be part of working for a better solution than we have arrived at now, in our country."
Before everything else, the Archbishop remarked, "We should raise a hymn of gratitude to God, the author of life, and the author of such great love that he sent his son to be with us – as savior and redeemer – as brother and friend."
In his homily, he emphasized, "the call to be witnesses to the beauty of human life, the preciousness of human life, and the dignity of human life." He added, "no difficulty should be spared, not even ourselves, in seeking to proclaim and be witnesses to the gospel of life in its entirety."
His message called for "recommitment, action, and compassion," in working against the Roe v Wade ruling, "making sure that every life is given the dignity that it deserves."
He said that "ultrasounds, sonograms and genetic research" seemed to "confirm, from a scientific perspective, what the scriptures have always formed in our minds and in our hearts – that the hand of God works through the mystery of our human love and sexuality to create a new human life that is precious to him."
He quoted "the beautiful words" of the 139th Psalm: "Oh Lord, you know when I sit and when I stand. Truly, you have formed my inmost being. You knit me in my mother’s womb. I give you thanks that I am carefully, wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works."
The Archbishop said the "easy access to abortion," in our society should not be looked upon as "a celebration of human choice, as it is so often portrayed, but as a tragedy," expressing the difficulty of "appreciating the confusion of some of our fellow citizens."
"How should we look at the times in which we live," he asked. "It seems to me," he continued, "that we should recommit ourselves to witness and to action." The Archbishop then conveyed a compassionate consideration of the role Catholics can play today.
"We should help those in difficult pregnancies," the Archbishop said, praising the work of Gabriel Project and Birthright, describing the programs that "truly care for women in difficult circumstances."
And for those who "need healing and reconciliation after an abortion, we should help and reach out to them," referring to "the wonderful work" accomplished in this regard, by Project Rachel.
He stressed the importance of "recommitting to dialogue with — and advocate with —state, federal legislators, and elected officials to create policies that do not promote abortion but rather seek to heal the wound, and the difficulty, that the dismissive attitudes toward unborn human life cause throughout our society."
He suggested "education and counseling," as tools to communicate a "better way to respect the dignity of human life, born and unborn."
The Archbishop expressed his hope that through dialogue and cooperation we could "be part of a new solution for our country and for our world," stating clearly, "we do not condone excessive anti-abortion behavior, such as bombing clinics and murdering physicians," or "a coercive approach to women in difficult situations."
"We want to have a solution which does not ignore the fact – the fact of the humanity of these unborn children."
‘Heart’s deepest longing’
Heaven is not escapism but fulfillment, apologist Peter Kreeft says
By Jack Smith
Best-selling author and Catholic apologist Peter Kreeft spoke about "Heaven, the heart’s deepest longing" to an overflow crowd at St. Mary’s Cathedral Conference center last week. "I never denied the existence of God. But I thought I didn’t want to go to heaven, because I thought heaven was an eternal church service," Dr. Kreeft said, describing his school days views. Since then the Boston College philosophy professor has changed his mind and written several essays and three books on heaven.
"Since God’s there, you don’t need a church service," he told the crowd at his Jan. 18 talk, which was sponsored by the School of Pastoral Leadership and Ignatius Press. Rather, he explained, the proof of heaven is found in every human’s deepest longings and its purpose is the fulfillment of those longings.
Professor Kreeft shied from his academic role and sought to bring heaven from abstraction to concrete reality. He concurred with this point of the agnostic founder of pragmatism, William James, "Any question that doesn’t make a practical difference to your life isn’t worth worrying about." Kreeft says he wouldn’t worry about heaven if it didn’t make a difference, but it makes all the difference, and James, even in his agnosticism agreed, he said.
He told a story of two peasants hauling a heavy load in the rain to build a Cathedral, one cursing and one singing. Both put one foot in front of the other to get to the Cathedral he said, but to one, he was hauling through miserable rain, for the other, he was singing happily to be building a Cathedral. He said heaven is not just a form of escapism, but it is formative and causative. "We human beings are the only things in the world that can make time work backwards," he said. He used the example of a game of pool. In a normal causative explanation, the cue-stick hits the cue ball, which hits the eight ball, which veers into the pocket and thus the game is won. For human beings, "The desire to win the game comes first," he said. Your present action is dependent on that future goal, so the precise movement of the cue stick is calculated on the necessity to sink the eight ball, backwards to the cue ball and so forth.
"It starts with something spiritual which is future. We live from out of the future. Our hoped for future moves our present . . . We think causality only works by pushing, but it also works by pulling," he said. Heaven and the presence of God is that pulling and cause of our life, he said.
Professor Kreeft explained St. Thomas of Aquinas’ principle of causality, that everything happens, "Out of the love of God, out of the love of some divine perfection." Our movement toward some divine perfection persists, "known or unknown, consciously or unconsciously," he said.
He said children are natural philosophers in this sense. "They don’t say ‘why?’ . . . They say ‘why, why, why?’" If the first answer to a child’s "why?" is mechanical or scientific, e.g. "Why do we have to go to the store . . . To buy food," the child will continue asking why until the answer ends on a first principle or metaphysical question . . . "Why do we have to live, mommy?"
Every human being, if they are honest with themselves, is dissatisfied with their existence. Unlike other creatures, we have some longing which is not satisfied by the most ideal environment. If we long for food, there is food; sex, there is sex . . . the world presents, at least the possibility of satisfying all of our drives, he said, but humans, alone, are never satisfied.
"Look into your heart and you will see that you are not happy and you want to be," he said. We have an innate desire for joy without boredom, he said. It is a desire not conditioned by outside influence.
"There is no such thing as a natural desire that doesn’t correspond to an object that can satisfy it," he said. He said the unique human desire for an object that is not apparent was used by C.S. Lewis as a proof of Heaven. "How come all these other desires are so coordinated that they can be fulfilled (food, warmth, money, sex)," he asked.
He said all of these temporary satisfactions of worldly desires are but an appetizer for the "main course," or the "scent of a flower we have not found."
Given that our desires are only satisfied here as appetizers, "then if when it comes to the main course, there’s nothing. If at death there’s nothing, then the universe is not designed by chance or unintelligent blind luck . . . The universe is designed by the devil. He’s a sadist," he said. C.S. Lewis explained, even in good marriages and in the best circumstances, "there is something that we grasp at the first moment of longing that fades away in the reality." Professor Kreeft said there were three responses to this universal feeling that something has evaded us. The first is the fool’s way: to blame the things themselves. We can imagine that a different woman or a different career would have made the difference in our happiness. "Most of the bored, discontented rich people in the world are of this type," he said.
The second person "thinks the whole thing is moonshine. So he suppresses the part of himself which used to call for the moon."
The last way is the Christian way; to hope that some satisfaction exists for these longings, to see in fleeting earthly pleasures that they "arouse it. They suggest the real thing," he said. The desire is "an indefinable longing" which will find its end not in unhappiness, but in the greatest happiness, in the light of the love and true knowledge of an infinite God.
Father Vitale returns, supports continued School of Americas protests
By Jack Smith
Franciscan Father Louis Vitale, pastor of Saint Boniface Parish, held a press conference, Jan. 22, following a three month stay in a federal prison camp for trespassing, last year at a military training school in Fort Benning, Georgia, during an annual peaceful protest sponsored by School of the Americas Watch (SOAW).
SOAW was founded by Father Roy Bourgeois in 1990 as an effort to convince the US government to close the School of the Americas in Georgia. Central and South American officers who had been trained at the school have been implicated in numerous high profile human rights violations and acts of terror in their home countries including the 1989 murder of six Jesuit priests and two of their companions in 1989 and the assassinations of Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador and Bishop Juan Gerardi of Guatemala. SOAW also discovered manuals in use by the school advocating torture.
Following these revelations by SOAW, members of the House of Representatives, twice tried unsuccessfully to close the school. The Department of Defense, reorganized the school’s curriculum and renamed it the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (WHINSEC).
At the press conference, Father Vitale and others, presented information from a recent Amnesty International report which, he said, gives credence to SOAW’s continued demand to close the reorganized school. The report states, in part, "WHINSEC is essentially the same school as the SOA, with the same mission – conveying military skills to members of Latin American armed forces."
The Amnesty International report credits pressure from SOAW for numerous changes and improvements in the school’s curriculum. It faults the school for its lack of any accounting for past activities of the SOA and for insufficient oversight or tracking of its graduates to ensure the school does not act as a training camp for terrorists and human rights abusers. The Amnesty International report also recommends reparations for victims of human rights violations to which training at the SOA contributed.
Father Vitale said that SOA Watch would continue to demand the closure of the school and the establishment of an independent commission to investigate past atrocities committed by graduates of SOA. SOA Watch will continue its peaceful protests and political activities and renewed its demand for annual reports to Congress and the general public tracking applicants and graduates of WHINSEC-SOA.
Father Vitale’s statements were echoed by West Point graduate, Laura Slattery, who along with eight other Bay Area residents is facing jail time for her participation in the latest SOA protest in November.
Mission Dolores links San Francisco with its 18th century roots
By Brother Guire Cleary, S.S.F.
San Francisco’s oldest intact building is Mission Dolores, the principal remaining physical monument of the Spanish Empire and Mexican Republic in the region of the San Francisco Bay. The mission is named after the founder of the Franciscan Order, Saint Francis of Assisi (1182-1226). Founded under the direction of Fray Junípero Serra, it is the sixth Franciscan mission to be established in Alta California. The California Missions were principally established to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ among the Indians and to be centers of new communities.
On August 5, 1775 the Spanish naval vessel San Carlos became the first Spanish ship to enter San Francisco Bay, commanded by Captain Juan Manuel de Ayala and having the 32 year-old Fray Vicente de Santa María as chaplain and missionary. The first instance of sharing the faith with the Indians in the San Francisco Bay Area took place at Angel Island on August 24, 1775. Two tule reed canoes of Huchiun Miwok men approached the San Carlos. At the prow of the boat was the head chief, Sumu, who gave a speech from the boat. At one point Padre Santa María displayed an image of San Francisco de Asís, which the Indian men kissed with such devotion that Santa María wrote, "they stole my heart and the hearts of all who observed them." Sumu left with his delegation.
Santa María then impetuously decided that he wanted to visit Sumu alone so that he might "communicate in greater peace." An astonishing religious exchange took place between the Franciscan and Sumu’s people. The Indians took out rattles and began singing what Santa María believed to be sacred songs with tears in their eyes. At the conclusion, they handed the Franciscan priest the rattles and indicated he should sing as well. In response Santa María sang the beloved Spanish hymn, Alabad, "to which they were most attentive, and indicated that it pleased them."
Mission San Francisco de Asís has as its common name "Mission Dolores," taken from the name of the now vanished Lake Dolores and Dolores Creek. The Señor Commandante, Colonel Juan Bautista de Anza, who explored the creek and lake on the Friday before Palm Sunday, April 5, 1776, gave them the name "Dolores". This day was traditionally called the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows (Nuestra Señora de los Dolores). On June 27, 1776 the colonists under the command of Lieutenant José Joaquin Moraga arrived along the shore of Laguna Dolores, near what is now Albion and Camp Streets in the Mission District. Two Franciscan padres, Fray Francisco Palóu and Fray Benito Cambón, accompanied them. Under an arbor (enramada) built by Moraga’s soldiers, Fray Francisco Palóu, the first pastor, celebrated the first Mass at what was to become the first church in this archdiocese on the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, June 29, 1776.
Establishment And Growth
The missionaries turned their attention to the establishment of the mission and the conversion of Ramaytush Ohlone Indians in the nearby village of Chutchui. The mission was formally opened on October 9, 1776. The first adult Indian baptism took place on June 24, 1777 when Chamis, a 20-year-old Ohlone man, was baptized and given the Christian name of Francisco Moraga. Lieut. José Joaquin Moraga acted as Godfather. Chamis later became the first Indian married at Mission Dolores, taking Paszém as his wife on April 24, 1778.
The present adobe church was dedicated on August 2, 1791, making it the oldest intact church nave in California. Within a few years, other adobe buildings were added for housing, ranching, agricultural, and manufacturing enterprises. At its peak in 1810-1820, the average Indian population at Pueblo Dolores was about 1,100 persons. The California missions were not only houses of worship. They were farming communities, manufacturers of all sorts of products, hotels, ranches, hospitals, schools, and the centers of the largest communities in the state. Mission Dolores at the peak of its prosperity in 1810 owned 11,000 sheep, 11,000 cows, and thousands of horses, goats, pigs, and mules. Its ranching and farming operations extended as far south as San Mateo and east to Alameda. Horses were corralled on Potrero Hill, and the milking sheds for the cows were located along Dolores Creek at what is today Mission High School. Twenty looms were kept in operation to process wool into cloth. The circumference of the mission’s holdings were said to have been about 125 miles.
The period after the onset of the Mexican War of Independence in 1810 was a difficult time for relations between the church and government of Mexico and life at the missions. Indians, who made up the bulk of the population of Mission Dolores, were experiencing a horrific loss of life due to various illnesses. Hoping to improve the health of the Indians by a transfer to a more healthy climate, the Mission of San Rafael (the angel of healing) was established on December 14, 1817. For a number of years afterward the population of San Rafael was recorded on the books of Mission Dolores.
Due to deteriorating conditions at Missions San Francisco de Asís and San Rafael, the pastor of San Francisco, Fray José Altimira, and Governor Luis Antonio Arguello opened up a new mission San Francisco in the town of Sonoma and planned to close Dolores and San Rafael in 1823. The religious authorities were shocked that the government had intervened and that the local pastor had complied. After some wrangling it was agreed that San Francisco and Dolores would not be closed and that the new mission would be known as San Francisco Solano, the missionary to Peru. In order to avoid confusion between the two San Franciscos, Mission San Francisco de Asís came to be called Mission Dolores after the little creek that is now under 18th street. To this day Mission San Francisco de Asís is generally called Mission Dolores.
In 1834, Mission Dolores with its farms, ranches, warehouses and factories was ordered by the Mexican government to be turned over to an administrator who valued the holdings at $67,227.60. The process of secularization meant that the missions would no longer manage the agricultural, ranching and manufacturing enterprises with their vast holdings of land and livestock. The missions would essentially be made into parish churches consisting of only the church proper, the residence of the priests and a small amount of land immediately surrounding the churches for use as kitchen gardens and cemeteries. By 1842, there were only eight Indian Christians resident at the mission. Spiritual needs of the parish were met by remaining Franciscans, but the situation of the parish was doubtful, and the last Franciscan, Fray José Real, withdrew to Santa Clara in 1845.
Post-Franciscan history
The period 1835 to 1853 was an uncertain time for the now secularized missions of Alta California. Most of the buildings in the compound of Mission Dolores were taken over for secular purposes.
On October 4, 1840, Garcia Diego was consecrated bishop of Alta and Baja California at Guadalupe in Mexico City. On January 1, 1846, Rev. Prudencio Santillan was ordained the first secular priest for San Francisco, San Rafael and San Francisco Solano. The conquest of California by the mostly Protestant and English speaking United States of America in 1846 presented the largely Catholic Spanish and converted Indian population with many challenges. The discovery of gold increased San Francisco’s population from perhaps 400 to 30,000 in just three years. In 1849, the total Roman Catholic priesthood of California consisted of 7 Franciscans and 4 seculars. That same year also saw the establishment of the first non-mission church, St. Francis of Assisi, in what was then called Yerba Buena. With a growth in population Mission Dolores saw the establishment of a parish school in 1852 and the diocesan seminary of St. Thomas Aquinas from 1853-1866.
The building of two plank roads from Yerba Buena to the Mission District in the 1850s allowed easy access to what became an entertainment district. Bull and bear fights, gambling, drinking, and other entertainments became a feature at Mission Dolores, although the mission church continued as a place of prayer. Some of the buildings were turned into a hospital, German brewery, saloons, gambling hall, etc. The acquisition of Alta California by the United States of America began an investigation into the land claims asserted by the Mexicans. Most of these claims had been carved out of what had previously been mission holdings. Much of the immediate land of Mission Dolores became part of Rancho San Miguel, owned by the Noe family.
On March 3, 1851, President James Buchanan confirmed some four acres of the original immense holdings of Mission Dolores to Bishop Joseph Sadoc Alemany, O.P. who had become first archbishop of San Francisco on July 29, 1853. Many of the gold seekers were Irish, French, and German Roman Catholics and the burial registers show a change from predominately Spanish names to Irish. In honor of the centennial of San Francisco in 1876 and to accommodate a growing population, Mission Dolores dedicated a new red brick Victorian neo-gothic church. The erection of a modern church next door to the old mission allowed for the adobe church and its Spanish era art to be preserved, or at least largely forgotten except as a relic of the past.
On April 18, 1906, a major earthquake that created fires that heavily ravaged the Mission District struck San Francisco. In an effort to save Mission Dolores from destruction, firefighters dynamited the Convent and School of Notre Dame across the street from the mission church. Later this was thought to have been unnecessary. While the adobe structure survived, the red brick church was structurally compromised and torn down. Some 23 square blocks of the 46 square blocks comprising the parish of Mission Dolores were destroyed on April 18-20, 1906. A temporary church was erected along 16th Street. Noted San Francisco architect Willis Polk supervised a sensitive retrofitting and restoration of the adobe church in 1917. Foundations for a new parish church of steel and concrete were laid in 1913 and the first Mass was held on Christmas Day, 1918.
Architects Frank T. Shea and John O. Lofquist designed the new parish church in the California Mission style and of concrete and steel to withstand earthquakes. Decoration of the new church continued for another 15 years and included much Baroque Mexican architectural embellishment. This work, under the direction of architect Henry Minton, was undertaken for the celebration of San Francisco’s sesquicentennial in 1926. Particularly noteworthy are the interior mosaics and stained glass windows depicting the 21 Franciscan missions of Alta California executed by the Meyer Company of Munich. The Basilica, in addition to being a place of prayer and pilgrimage, is now a performance venue for such renowned groups as the Coro Hispano de San Francisco, Conjunto Nuevo Mundo, and Chanticleer.
World War II saw many changes in the parish. Its Irish population relocated, and increasingly the parish served a largely Latin American population. On February 8, 1952, Pope Pius XII raised the church to the honor of a Minor Basilica. Mission Dolores became the first church designated a basilica west of the Mississippi River. On September 17, 1987, Pope John Paul II became the first reigning Roman Pontiff to visit San Francisco and pray at the Basilica. Particularly memorable and moving was his embracing of a child with AIDS. Another earthquake in 1989 occasioned a major campaign for retrofitting, strengthening and conservation. The cemetery and the artwork of the old mission church were brilliantly restored to period appearance in 1995 under the direction of then pastor, Msgr. John J. O’Connor.
Mission Dolores - Today
The year 2001 marked the designation of Mission Dolores as a Jubilee Pilgrimage site and the 225th anniversary of its establishment. In celebration of these events its pastor, Msgr. Maurice M. McCormick invited Ohlone descendants to plant specimens of culturally significant flowers, shrubs, and herbs. A traditional tule reed house was also erected. The Native Sons of the Golden West placed a plaque on the wall of the mission paying tribute to the Ohlone as the founders and builders of the mission and this community, thus making Mission Dolores one of the very few colonial places in California explicitly memorializing the contributions of the First Peoples.
Mission Dolores has been recognized as a landmark by both the City of San Francisco and the State of California. The Old Mission welcomes thousands of tourists, visitors, pilgrims and school children every year. Its beauty has captured the imagination of poets (Bret Harte, "The Bells of Mission Dolores"), filmmakers (Alfred Hitchcock, "Vertigo"), rock musicians (Jerry Garcia, "Mission in the Rain"), shipbuilders (S.S. Mission Dolores and S.S. Mission San Francisco), and tens of thousands of people wishing to take in the beauty of its architecture and art, the peace inside its walls and cemetery, and the continuous history of living the Franciscan motto, "La Paz y Bien," Peace and All Good.
Episcopal Franciscan Brother Guire Cleary is curator of the Mission. This is one in a
year-long series of articles marking the 150th anniversary of the Archdiocese of San Francisco.
Jeffrey Burns, archdiocesan archivist and author of a history of the Archdiocese is coordinating the series.
Brothers and sisters to the world
Bishop-elect Ignatius C. Wang to be ordained January 30
The episcopal ordination of Bishop Ignatius C. Wang as Auxiliary Bishop of San Francisco on January 30 at St. Mary’s Cathedral is a cause for great joy in the local Church of the Archdiocese of San Francisco and a unique moment in the life of the Catholic Church in America.
He is the first bishop of Chinese ancestry or Asian background to be appointed in the United States and his ordination recognizes the rapidly growing numbers of Asians who have immigrated to this country from China, Japan, Korea, Viet Nam, the Philippines and other countries.
Archbishop William J. Levada said recently, "It is particularly appropriate for us here in the Archdiocese of San Francisco to have a Bishop from among the Chinese people, whose forebears were among the first immigrants to San Francisco and California at the time of the Gold Rush in 1849, and whose heroic work brought the historic transcontinental railroad to completion in 1868. From the time of those first immigrants there has been a small community of Chinese Catholics, strong in faith, who have been an active part of the life of the Archdiocese of San Francisco since its founding in 1853."
Today it is estimated that 23 percent of the three-quarter million inhabitants of the City of San Francisco are of Chinese origin. Well over a quarter of Catholics in the Archdiocese are of East Asian ancestry, including a great many Filipino-Americans.
The ordination of Bishop Wang reminds us once again that the Catholic Church in America is an immigrant Church – where people from virtually every nation in the world come together in worship as brothers and sisters in Christ.
Referring to the American Church, Pope John Paul II, in "Ecclesia in America," spoke of earlier European immigrants.
"The greatest gift which America has received from the Lord is the faith which has forged its Christian identity. For more than five hundred years the name of Christ has been proclaimed on the continent. The evangelization which accompanied the European migrations has shaped America’s religious profile, marked by moral values which, though they are not always consistently practiced and at times are cast into doubt, are in a sense the heritage of all Americans, even of those who do not explicitly recognize this fact."
A pastoral letter issued by the Catholic Bishops of America and Mexico less than 10 days ago is a direct link to the earliest migrations of Americans of European ancestry. The title of this pastoral letter, "Strangers No Longer, Together on the Journey of Hope," indeed could serve as the theme of evangelization in the American Church throughout the course of migrations of people to America from countries around the world.
Today, the Archdiocese of San Francisco is one of the most diverse dioceses in the nation in the ancestry and background of its people. In this great mix of national ancestry and cultural background, we seek to follow Christ as one. We hear the words of St. Paul who urges us "to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace."
Internationally, we should recognize that — by virtue of immigration — America already is brother and sister to every nation in the world. The population of the United States is composed of immigrants or descendants of immigrants. Many U.S. citizens still have family members living in other countries.
As we seek within the Church to be brothers and sisters in Christ, in another context we should seek to be strong and helpful brothers and sisters to the world.
In the current national debate concerning the threat to security posed by the regime of Saddam Hussein in Iraq and appropriate action to be taken by the United States, we should be concerned about the future U.S. place in the world. A unilateral approach that ignores the concerns of other nations could undermine the ability of the U.S. to build needed coalitions in the future.
The preferred approach to dealing with the dangers posed by the regime of Saddam Hussein is one that is multilateral and works within the framework of the United Nations’ organization.
This approach, which accords greater respect to the concerns of other nations and builds greater respect for the United States, does not preclude strong action.
Indeed, earlier this week, a top Vatican official said the international community, while avoiding war, could use "robust means" against Baghdad to obtain Iraqi compliance with U.N. resolutions.
Archbishop Renato Martino, president of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, rejected characterizations of the Vatican as "pacifist" and said the Church recognized that the international community’s obligation to work for peace around the globe required courage and sometimes strong action.
While Archbishop Martino said Iraqi compliance with U. N. disarmament resolutions was "a must," he said the U.S. case for "preventive war" against Iraq on self-defense grounds was unjustified under the church’s traditional just-war theory — a position he said was the view of Pope John Paul II and the Vatican. MEH
Sharing family fiascoes
By Vivian Dudro
One summer day many years ago, my mom tried to make a Boston cream pie for my dad’s birthday and ended up with a disaster. The Midwestern hot and humid weather was one reason the cake became a slipping and sliding, chocolate-covered crater. My younger brother breaking his arm was the other. While riding his bicycle, he had been pretending to be a motorcycle stuntman and had ended up with a compound fracture.
The story of that infamous cake is a big chapter in our family folklore, and Boston cream pie is for us ever associated with folly and failure. So naturally, I felt some trepidation when my younger son requested one for his 13th birthday; but, in the name of family tradition, I gave the cake a try anyway.
Just as I feared, I was plagued with problems from the start. First, the cake did not rise, which presented a challenge because I was supposed to slice it into two layers. I baked another one, thinking it would serve as the second layer, but it stuck to the pan and came out in pieces.
"You would think I was under some kind of curse," I quipped to a neighbor who stopped by.
"Don’t worry about it," she said. "When you cover it with frosting no one will ever know it looked this bad once."
My next problem was the filling; it did not thicken after hours in the refrigerator. I contemplated starting over, but then put it back on the stove, added more starch, and hoped for the best.
Amazing but true, the cake glued together rather nicely and even tasted pretty good; but shortly after dinner, my husband and I heard a loud crashing sound. We ran upstairs to our sons’ bedroom, where we found, in the place of the window pane, a gaping jaw with jagged teeth.
"I was closing the window, and the glass broke," explained my son’s birthday guest. He was not at fault, we assured him. The glass was already cracked; it was an accident waiting to happen.
"I guess you did not escape the curse of the Boston cream pie after all," he added with a grin.
Well, it could have been worse. No one was hurt, not even my older son, who was outside beneath the third-story window when the glass smashed onto the cement in front of him. Yet thinking I should not tempt fate again, I resolved never to make another Boston cream pie; that is, until my thirteen-year-old gave me a big hug and said, "Thanks for the great birthday, Mom. Can you make me another one of those awesome cakes next year?"
"Of course," I said insanely. "I’ve worked out all the bugs in the recipe; it’ll be a cinch." Besides, I thought to myself, what stories will my children have to tell their own kids if we do not have our share of family fiascoes?
Vivian Dudro is the mother of four (ages four to 13) and a member of St. Mary’s Cathedral Parish.
Ritual, rubrics, regulations: why they really matter
By Sr. Sharon McMillan, SND
Recent months have brought a series of small but significant changes in the way Catholics celebrate the Eucharist. In the midst of learning new patterns, of altering familiar rituals, it is not unusual to hear the question "why?"
Why does ritual matter? Why do we pay so much attention to liturgical law? Why should parishes bother with close attention to the liturgy?
The meaning is in the Church’s prayer itself. Liturgy is profoundly an act of spiritual formation. That is, our worship shapes us and forms us, and ultimately transforms us as disciples of Jesus Christ. Our worship is the Church’s prayer, created and recreated over the centuries. Its goal is to enable the assembly to pray, to enable the assembly to encounter the almighty and merciful God in our acts of worship.
The patterns of our worship really do matter. They aim to make as absolutely clear as possible the proclamation of the good news of Jesus and then to invite all of us into the mystery of his dying and rising. The pattern then is proclamation and response: God’s faithful love alive and present in Jesus Christ and the invitation for us to respond with the gift of our lives of loving service.
Sunday after Sunday, season after season, year after year, the familiar, communal patterns of the Church’s prayer mold our minds and hearts. The patterns of worship call us to rehearse the attitude that is Christ’s: surrender to our good and loving God. When we can enter deeply into the rhythms of the Church’s liturgy, Christ himself prays within us. The Spirit dwells in the assembly, drawing us to encounter God truly present there.
No matter what our personal feelings are or what our preference for spontaneity and creativity may be, we allow the patterns of the liturgy itself to shape us as individuals and as a community. Whatever might appear to be mere rubrics or annoying regulations are ultimately the Church’s acts of prayer which exist to facilitate that profound dialogue happening between God and God’s people.
We hear what God proclaims and our hearts burn within us in loving response. The patterns of the liturgy help us hear that proclamation deeply and respond with one heart and one mind and one voice. As servants of the Church’s liturgy we are then servants of the Church’s prayer, more shaped by it than shaping it according to our preferences.
At the heart of the "why" liturgical law exists and ritual exists is the reality that in Christ we are all one Body. It is our very union in Christ that is nurtured and supported by attention to the same gestures, the same postures, the same prayers, the same acts of worship.
St. Peter calls the baptized the holy people, the royal priesthood, the people set apart and chosen by God. In our common liturgical prayer we practice that sacred unity. We hear God’s word together, join in prayer and song and silence together, offer the sacrifice together, share together in the Lord’s table, and treat each other with the tenderness of brothers and sisters. It is common ritual that allows us this profound prayer.
So it matters. How we enter into the church, how we process for communion, how we respond to the prayers, how we greet one another at the sign of peace: it all matters because the prayer of the Body of Christ matters. And it is the common elements of ritual that serve to bind us together into his Body for the life of the world.
Notre Dame Sister Sharon McMillan is assistant professor of sacramental theology and liturgy at
St. Patrick Seminary, Menlo Park.
Founded as La Misión San Francisco De Asís by Franciscans, it survived earthquake and fire
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