On Hinky Homeletics

So as to be better prepared for the season of Advent, I sought out a day of reconciliation at a parish that I rarely attended. The afternnon started with a Mass at High Noon.  Since it was a chilly autumnal day in the District of Calamity, I had donned my alma mater’s sweatshirt for an informal afternoon of faith sharing. Little did I realize how my sartorial choice would impact this time of reflection.

The parish is blessed by a nascent Oratorian community of St. Philp Neri.  I figured that I would get a flavor of their spirituality from the Advent event.  The vibe of the parish was Novus Ordo throwback, with clerics wearing ornate vestments and an altar with lots of candles and a Benedict XVI inspired cross. Amongst the faithful, some chapel veils and several who reverently chose to partake the Eucharist on their knees. 

St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic Church, Woodley Park, Washington, DC 

However, the celebrant of this sparsely attended First Saturday liturgy –whom I will charitably call Fr. Funny– was not an absolute adherent to the rubric, as he chose to leave the altar to be closer to the flock.  Strictly speaking, this was not following the rubric but was understandable for the intimacy of this High Noon Mass. 

The priest enthusiastically greeted the mainly young adult attendees for the Day of Recollection. But he spotted me in the front and addressed comments towards “There is a man wearing a Marquette sweatshirt.”  Fr. Funny sought to shake my hand as he exclaimed: “I’m am glad to see that you are here and that the Jesuits have not totally corrupted you.”  I was stunned by the snipe but played along with the hinky homiletics so as not to cause a scene as we worshiped.

Rather than do exegesis on the readings, Fr. Funny focused on it being the last day of the liturgical year and how we were being drawn into a season of preparation. It was a time for cleaning, like that Marquette sweat shirt but more importantly our lives as we prepare for the Incarnation at Christmas. Rather than thinking about Advent’s character of repentance, I wondered if I needed a spot cleaner for my garb.  But after this special attention from the homilist, I had to discern if my presence at this day of reflection was efficacious.

After the liturgy, I waited to have a word with Fr. Funny.  I explained that I did not appreciate being singled out during his remarks.  I drew from my Ignatian experience to remember the Presupposition, giving the other person the benefit of the doubt.  So I told the cleric that I trusted he was trying to be jocular. But I noted that as a layman, I will never be able to give a homily; however I could not condone bringing up even my grievances with some of the Society of Jesus’ practices from the pulpit. I noted that there were more conservative Jesuits like Fr. Fessio and Fr. Mitch Pacwa (the latter I could only describe as I was so incensed).  The last time I was singled out during a homily was when a departing Jesuit pastor took parting shots because I noted that he was not following the GIRM by regularly dropping the Profession of Faith on Sundays.

To his credit, Fr. Funny patiently listened and offered an apology, noting that he did not mean to be offensive but sought to jibe about the Jesuits.  He hoped that the incident would not dissuade me from partaking in the afternoon of reflection.

Although I am not a shrinking violet who embarrasses easily, my visceral instinct was  that the well had been proverbially poisoned.  After the shepherd draws attention, the sheep will follow. Thus it was likely that the rest of my encounters that afternoon would be justifying my orthodoxy or being invited to rebuke the Jesuits.  

While I was put off by the unsolicited attention during the homily, I was disturbed at a homilist who snarkily took snipes at ecclesial politics when he should have been explicating the Good News. The homily is part of the Liturgy of the Word (public worship).  It is not a time for debate or disagreement.

Being called out at the pulpit made me question if I should be there.  I already saw that the I was not a natural demographic fit for the retreat crowd.  The jocularity during the homily was more than just a joke as it questioned my spiritual bona fides (though I was not COMPLETELY corrupted).   As the animus against Ignatian practices was clear and exegesis was wont from the homily, I could see that the experience was going nowhere for me.  I had a spouse who wanted my company to do holiday activities together thus ended that pre-Advent experience.  But not my time for reflection.

Aside from the personal affront, the episode made me think about good liturgy.  I can understand when a celebrant makes some prefunctory recognitions from the ambo welcoming special visitors. But to use such a greeting as a guise to push a perspective on grace, good liturgy or Godliness was anathema. 



As for the humorous jibe against another order, I appreciate that one of the charisms of St. Philip Neri was that he had a wicked (sic) sense of humor which inspires a joyful heart.  For someone who writes “Confessions of a Liturgy Snob”, I certain appreciate humor, especially the dry, tongue in cheek kind.  However, sometimes a joke is more than a joke. As one who studied the Philosophy of Humor at Marquette, I know that jokes must have some elements of truth with a twist in order to be funny. There are lots of Jesuit jokes, and often members of the Society of Jesus are the best raconteurs of these witticisms. But sarcastic swipes from the pulpit are off-putting.

Even for homilist with whom I disagree, I welcome being challenged as long as they preach the gospel.  But Catholicism embraces many different pieties, from prayerful liturgy to emphasizing social justice. So to have one tradition mocked from the altar was egregious.  

A wise pastor lives his ministry by praising in public and chastising in private.  Had the Jesuit jokes be given in another circumstance, a dialogue might have ensued in which the excesses of their SJ charism could have been lamented.  However, when such a critique is given in a Mass, there is no opportunity to equivocate lest one further drag our public worship down from praising God in union with the heavenly hosts. 

It is of dubious merit for a homilist to “work a room” when offering inspired commentary about the Liturgy of the Word.  I have cringed when a celebrant has performed “The Amazing Creskin” Q and A session during his  sermon.  Similarly, theatrical gestures like reaching out to glad hand Jesuit alumni while verbally sticking it to their teachers does not uplift us in applying the Good News to our lives but drags the divine to the diurnal. 

I was discerning finding new pastures as my present parish and ecclesial associations are not as appealing. Regretfully, this episode certainly helped illuminate my way from one path.

On the Consequences for Standing Up Against Liturgical Abuse

It is an interesting experience to be obliquely  attacked from the pulpit during a homily for questioning persistent liturgical abuses. During the last Mass of our departing Pastor, he made some parting swipes at people sowing scandal creating scandal through e-mail and the internet. This seemed like an odd tact  on to Mark 9:43-47, but that is how he chose to address a conscientious Catholic who cares about quality liturgy.

 Three and a half years ago, in a missive directed to the then Director of Liturgy, I questioned why some presiders persisted in calling the Chalice a Cup after the implementation of the Third Translation to the Roman Missal.  I referred to a piece written as the Church was transitioning into the new translation. I asked for catechesis on what was the difference and to respect the rubric.  Those issues were never addressed to me, and certain prelates, particularly the Pastor, kept to their favored phrasing. But apparently this was not forgotten.

Close to two years ago, I wrote the Pastor along with several involved staff to inquire about some sui gerneris liturgical practices.  The immediate concern was re-orienting the contemporary choir to partially face the altar. This involved reducing the number of musicians and angling the ensemble at a 45 degree angle so that the acoustics projected into a side wall rather than to the congregation.  The musicians were upset about it, but could say nothing because their position depended upon the favor of the Pastor.

When I asked the liturgical director about it, I was told that it was “more reverential”, which sounded like a well intentioned initiative that was drawn from liturgical conferences but was not counter-balanced by the particulars of the parish church layout.  While the musicians were upset about the changes, they  could say nothing because their position depended upon the continued favor of the Pastor.  This choir repositioning may have been a prelude to installing a more prominent baptismal font, which was a pet project of the Pastor.

Appreciating the choir members’ dilemma and being put off by the bromide of being more reverential, I used my Ignatian audacity to question the policy.  If the same “reverential” logic was applied, lectors would need to have their backs to the Congregation, so that they were facing the altar.  Left unsaid was the priestly ad orientalis practice which had long been abandoned in the Spirit of Vatican II.

My earnest questioning also extended into some persistent liturgical abuses.  Of course, the chalice controversy continued without abatement or explanation, but it seemed confined to a certain cleric.  I wondered if we should constantly be reverting to the Apostles Creed.  It’s sad when can mouth the words,  “Please turn to page 175 of your hymnal”.  But it had gotten to the point where the Creed was no longer said at Sunday Mass.  I wondered why General Instructions on the Roman Missal (GIRM 67-68) were  not followed.

What truly concerned me about the validity of the Mass was the practice that the Pastor had for the Confiteor substitute to not even mention sin but have the congregation think of something to be grateful privately then praying together. I questioned during liturgy (public worship) whether we should be saying private prayers but it was scandalous that we were not asking for mercy for our sins.

In his swan song homily, the cleric closed by instructions of the Ignatian practice of the “Presupposition”– basically that you are to always give the other person the benefit of a doubt. Hmm, challenging deviating liturgical and requesting catechesis to better discern the right way seems fair, I suppose (sic).

Presumably, including others on the memo, irked the Pastor as it did not allow the challenge to be swept under a rug. But there was no reply at all to the letter.  I followed the scriptural precepts of correcting a brother as well as the principle of subsidiarity.  The liturgical abuses were initially brought up in private conversation then to the liturgical point person. When those approaches failed, it was brought to the pastoral level with several cc’ed of those affected. The next step would have been to take it up with the Archdiocese Office of Worship. In reflection,  the specificity of the Confiteor challenge may have been particularly embarrassing to the Pastor.

After writing those missives and saying my piece, I harbored little animus towards the “bad actors” but bristled at experiencing  poor liturgical practices.  Because of living in the city which give me many choices to worship,  I scrupulously tried to avoid  liturgies which be irritating or possibly invalid.  This seemed like a divine detente.  However, my modest proposals seemed to haunt the Pastor.

He chose to close his final homily not by addressing underlying issues but by pressuring a “presuppostion” interpretation which was the equivalent of expecting the laity to “Pray, pay and obey”.  Effectively, he could act as he willed under the pretext of charity. Recently, I questioned a Deacon by email at a parish which I often attend while traveling why he wears a chasible rather than an alb and a deacon’s sash.  I may not have agreed with his answer but at least he had the courtesy to respond and explain himself.

Perhaps the “Presupposition” polemic was intended to inculcate Ignatian values. If that were the case, however,  then why “encounter” the inquisitive fellow directly or in a timely manner? Wouldn’t want a Pastor to smell like sheep now, would we?   I suspect the Pastor's veiled snipes were intended to shame, but to little avail.  It reminds me of the origins of the term jesuitical. Standing up for what I believe while being open to be better educated is a badge of pride.

Alexandr Solzhenitsyn wrote in his Nobel Lecture “One word of truth outweighs the world.”   I believe my experience shows how one person who cares can effect change.  Soon after I formally raised the issue, the choir was repositioned back to singing to the congregation and their numbers were not forcibly scaled back.  In addition, the baptismal font change was temporarily tabled awaiting more input from the parish.  And aside from the departing Pastor, nearly all of the priests offering Mass now use the current rubric, though some still prefer to use the Apostles Creed all year long.

Some Catholics only darken the doors of a Church for Christmas, Easter, funerals and the occasional baptism and seem not to pay attention to what goes on.  Others attend Mass but it is a rote ritual.  For me, Mass nourishes the soul with the Word of God along with His Body, Blood, soul and divinity. While there can be many styles to celebrate the Liturgy of the Word but the Liturgy of the Eucharist is a sacred form of our Roman patrimony and the era of improvisation is over. The challenge is rectifying loosey goosey Spirit of Vatican II adherents with those more mindful of the Magisterium

In the sacristy prior to the Pastors’ final Mass, I could not help but overhear someone kvetching about a visiting Priest celebrating a funeral who warned those assembled that Communion was reserved for Catholics in Good Moral Standing.  She complained to the current Director of Liturgy: “Why would he say this when the Pope was right down the street preaching about inclusiveness?”.   I interjected : “To save their souls from damnation for unworthily receiving the sacrament”. Let’s just say that ended the colloquy.  Remember– one word of truth outweighs the world.

As a practical Catholic, I am glad that I can not suffer from disfellowship like the 103 year old Georgian woman was banned by her Baptist church that she founded. I am hopeful that by taking a stand against liturgical abuse can change things for the future at my church.  It ought to create a dialogue on why things are done in an extraordinary manner or doing things right proper in the future.