Our Lady of the Snows

Today is the feast day of the dedication of the Basilica of St. Mary Major in Rome. Known in Italian as Santa Maria Maggiore, it is one of the four major basilicas (along with St. Peter's, St. John Lateran, and St. Paul-outside-the-Walls). I had the privilege of visiting this marvelous place in September. It is a beautiful church home to many important relics including the icon of the Madonna known as the Salus Populii Romani, the remnants of the manger at Bethlehem, and the body of St. Pope Pius V.

The title Our Lady of the Snows comes from a legend concerning a Roman nobleman and his wife who wished to bequeath their possessions to the Virgin Mary. They prayed for some sign as to where they should put their treasures. The next day, the fifth of August, snow was found at the summit of the Esquiline Hill in Rome, where the Basilica was eventually built.

View of the Nave

Altar in front of the reliquary holding the remains of the Crib of Bethlehem

St. Pope Pius V

Born in a barn

After a long hiatus including - among other things - four months in Paris, I am back in Washington, back at the grindstone of my last year of academic study, and back - incidentally - at the drawing board. Why not inaugurate the year of Our Lord two thousand and fifteen with a bit of paper architecture? This particular design is for a small parish church (seating perhaps 200-300 persons). The seeds of this scheme have been germinating for quite some time now (including while in Paris). The genesis was a small corner of the fascinating architectural museum at the Cité de l'architecture et du patrimoine where there were several models of the wooden structure of European barns exhibited. The one below caught my eye:

Of course, perhaps it says something about a mental imbalance of mine that the first thing I thought of when I saw that model was "man, this would make an interesting church!" Perhaps instead the thought came to mind because it reminded me both of the St. Henry Ecumenical Chapel in Finland and - albeit more tangentially - to Kramer Chapel on the campus of Concordia Lutheran Seminary in Fort Wayne.

Whatever the method, my brain began associating these varying images. One of my personal challenges when I undertake a theoretical design such as the one below - free from all constraints of budget and disobliging clients - is to strike the appropriate note when it comes to traditional architecture. Many have noted well that we may be in the midst of a nascent renaissance [a rebirth about to be born? Etymology...] of Catholic church architecture. Indeed, the "heavy hitters" of the movement such as Duncan Stroik, James McCrery, and others, have already blazed an encouraging path. However, I must confess that it sometimes leaves me a bit unsettled. Perhaps I have been too much indoctrinated by architectural modernists, but I can't help but feeling like much neo-traditional church building is a bit artificial. Much of the work seems archaeological; going to the high Renaissance or the Counter-Reformation for example, and choosing your favorite model to build cheaply.

Of course, I generalize, but I also don't think it need work this way. I am convinced we can develop an architecture that points to God and to Catholic truth without slapping Corinthian columns and pink marble on every sanctuary we come across. Yet, the iconoclasm and disorientation of churches in the dominant contemporary idiom of the moment go in a far worse direction. I certainly don't have all of this figured out - and I probably never will - but I will just reiterate by saying that this intellectual feeling outlined above is constantly in my mind when I put pen to paper for these sorts of little exercises.

Back to the church at hand. Thus inspired by the above precedents and thoughts, I did a few studies of different elements in my sketchbook. I liked how in the original barn model the wood structure was so expressive and layered. I also enjoyed how readable the structural principles were: wooden arch descending to rest on heavy stone walls. Now, nobody goes to church with the intention of a structures lesson, but it speaks to a deeper point nonetheless. Intelligibility and reason are two aspects of God that figure prominently in our thinking about the incarnate logos Jesus Christ. God created an intelligible and ordered universe which we are to have careful stewardship over. Building in a manner consistent with the logic and proportions (and materials) found in nature reveals our thoughts on the universe and our place in it.

After considering what I had drawn, I was unsure what the overall feeling would be, so I quickly built a prototype in SketchUp to see how the trusses would work together. As this was a quick, half-baked study, I just borrowed some elements from a previous design to mock up the sanctuary and the pews, etc. I was pleased with the overall form and impression given by the design. However, in the original model, the roof would've covered the entire structure, allowing daylight only through small windows in the stone walls. In a church I think that lack of light would be inexcusable (though it is the case in some of the more horrific suburban churches thrown up in the 70s). I decided on a sort of skylight method that would allow light in above the main arch of the nave. Playing with the shadow settings in SketchUp, I was pleasantly surprised with the way the light would play off the surface of the ceiling and filter through the trusses.

So, I stopped there for awhile until coming back to the project just yesterday. I've been pretty busy this week working for my professor on a very, very, VERY, tedious project (the joys of being a research assistant!), and I needed some time to do something creative. As the process of this design has been largely an interior matter, I went for an exterior view:

This design is a variant of a couple of aesthetic themes that litter my sketchbooks. The first is the "big triangle". Now, gabled roofs are nothing new in church design, but they are seldom very expressive. The major exception are the small English Gothic parish churches that are often almost all gable but typically feature a little bell-tower at the peak. Perhaps I am being too Postmodern, but I love the symbolism and power of the pure gabled roof (it calls to mind images of home, points the eyes heavenward, and even has a monumental purity because of its descent from the pyramid). Thus, the "big triangle" fits in well with the other theme I enjoy developing which is austerity - particularly in its Art Deco-ish manifestations: pure, largely unornamented geometrical volumes combining in varying compositions.

Thus, in this scheme, there is little exterior ornament. It is applied sparingly where it would be to greatest effect. The most detailed portion of the entire exterior are the portals - arguably where most people would come into direct contact with the building. Thus, I've hinted at perhaps carved tympanums (tympana?) above the doors and perhaps a carved saint or two in the niches flanking the central door. Beyond that, the exterior is quite severe.

Today, I took another look at the interior - paying close attention to the sanctuary, which I had not given thought to in the first SketchUp iteration. Again, ornament and detail is applied where it can be to maximum effect - here it is at the altar and the reredos. The form of the altar and its setting is based on the design of the exterior portals at the front of the church. A symbol often co-opted from the Romans in the basilican churches of the Mediterranean was that of the triumphal arch: Christ's death has opened the gates to heaven, toward which we gaze during the Holy Mass. It is architecturally and theologically fitting, then, that the priest - the alter Christus - would stand at such a gate to offer the holy sacrifice.

The rest of the sanctuary is traditionally arranged. Several steps separate the altar from the floor of the sanctuary, which is itself a few steps up from the nave. Certain folks with certain agendas may say that this engenders a much too clerical view of the mass. However, apart from the purely practical benefit of making the actions of the altar more visible, the elevation of the altar has beautiful scriptural symbolism. I think of the Psalmist singing "Who shall ascend the mountain of the Lord, and who shall stand in this holy place" and Isaiah saying "Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength [...] say to the cities of Judah 'Behold your God!'" and of course one also thinks of the Lord's ascent to Calvary which gives meaning and weight to both images.

On Homilies

Archbishop DiNoia

The Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, given its prominence and its location in the nation's capital, is often host to a variety of intriguing ecclesiastical personalities. Archbishop Carlo Maria Vigano, the Apostolic Nuncio to the United States, is often on hand for special masses, as is Archbishop Donald Cardinal Wuerl. Today, we were privileged to have Archbishop J. Augustine DiNoia on hand for the solemn mass at noon. His Excellency is currently resident in Rome most of the time, as he is the Adjunct Secretary of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith (Benedict XVI served as Prefect of this Congregation prior to his elevation to the Chair of Peter). However, Archbishop DiNoia has many local connections. He is a Dominican, and he was for a long time intimately connected with the Dominican House of Studies, located across the street from Catholic University. Vocations at the Dominican House are flourishing, and I see many young men dressed in the tell-tale black and white habits daily in the neighborhood. Much of the Dominican renaissance happening in DC can be attributed at least partially to DiNoia's tenure.

In any event, I must report that His Excellency delivered a homily that was simply superb. I know little about homiletics, and I am reticent to criticize most priests on their homilies because I often have much more trouble expressing my thoughts verbally than I do in writing. I empathize with the bad homilists, in other words - and I tend to give the benefit of the doubt when things veer into sentimentality or apparent heterodoxy. On the other hand, I must give high praise where it is due. On a Sunday such as this - the Octave Day of Easter, the Sunday of Divine Mercy, the day of two prominent canonizations - I imagine it must've been quite difficult to come up with a homily that would tie it all together - without even mentioning the rich scriptural passages proclaimed today. Nevertheless, Archbishop DiNoia managed to tie it all together in under fifteen minutes, sprinkling in quotes from St. Irenaeus' Adverses Haereses, St. Faustina, St. Maximus the Confessor, and St. John Paul II's Veritatis Splendor to boot!

The major thrust of his sermon was that we are each made for holiness, which results in perfect communion with God, who has no need of our communion, but desires it for us anyways, out of His love. The Trinity is holy communion par excellence and exists in and of itself for its own end. It is God. But, as the Psalmist says, the Lord is kind and merciful, and He will not leave us to fend for ourselves. He has given of Himself to reconcile creature and creator. He has given us his Truth to guide us. And He gives us his mercy for when we go astray from the Truth.

The message was clear. It encapsulated the whole central truth of Christianity. And yet, how often do we hear such clear theology proclaimed from the pulpit? Not every priest has the same talent for speaking and expressing himself, but imagine if for one Sunday each priest from the rising of the sun to its setting was allowed the eloquence of this masterful bishop of the Orders Preacher.

Wheel in the sky keeps on turning

During class this evening, for whatever reason, the vision of Ezekiel the Prophet came up in conversation. Lest it's been awhile since you've cracked open that corner of the Scriptures, I'll remind you that it's the almost hallucinogenic-seeming description of the angels, the heavenly temple, and God himself. The relevant point comes to us in Ezekiel 1, verse 15ish:

"All at once wheels appeared close to them, one at each of the four sides, [...] and each looked like a wheel within a wheel. Moved they, it was ever one of the four ways the living figures looked; and they did not turn round in moving. As for their size, their height was terrible to look upon; and the whole frame of them, all round, was full of eyes."

This portion of the vision has been traditionally explained as a revelation of God's omnipresence - nothing escapes his sight. This fact, of course, is testified to throughout the scriptures, such as in Proverbs 15:3: "Go where thou wilt, the Lord’s eye is watching; good nor evil escapes his scrutiny."

However, this vision stirs to mind some ideas from a class I took a few years back. Ostensibly, the class was an honors symposium on the advanced sciences and mathematics, but really it was a sort of math, quantum physics, ethics, and philosophy class all rolled into one. We read Jorge Luis Borges alongside Heisenberg. One thing that I distinctly recall is the unpredictability of quantum particles. According to Schrodinger and others, particles change their behavior depending on whether they are observed or not. There was one experiment that was left overnight with no one watching that seemed to show light acting as a wave. Whereas, when the same experiment was observed, it seemed as though light was acting as a particle.

In any event, at the quantum level, it becomes very tricky to get down to what more naturalistic types would call "reality", because sometimes reality is incredible odd. To get back to Ezekiel's rather terrifying vision of God, we once had a class discussion on whether or not the universe needs to be observed by something outside of it in order to exist. The all-seeing eyes of Ezekiel's wheels seem to hint that the operation of the universe is intrinsically tied into the observation thereof.

Dante's vision of the Empyrean

This little thought experiment begs the question of whether its acceptable to read modern sciences into ancient scriptures. Some may accuse me of playing the "God of the gaps" game, wherein we simply place our idea of God into the increasingly smaller gaps that science leaves in our understanding of the world. In taking this particular class, however, it became abundantly clear that there are many more gaps and uncertainties than we tend to think of on a daily basis - especially once one delves either too deeply or ascends too highly in the scale of the universe.

Furthermore, as a Catholic, I believe that there is Truth, with a capital T, which exists, a priori to ourselves. If God is creator, than creation testifies to this truth just as much as His revelation of Himself in the scriptures. Saying that God is an omnipresent observer necessary for the cohesion of quantum mechanics does not diminish what God said through Ezekiel in quite a different way. We have each foot in a different realm of knowledge at this point.

To muse further, I wish to consider the Medieval (well, Aristotilean originally) conception of God as the primum mobile - the unmoved mover. To the knowledgeable men of those ages, the universe was a series of revolving spheres that descended from God, though the heavens, to the earth. God, the Prime Mover, causes each sphere to rotate, which gives order to the sphere below it and so forth. Dante explains this perceived celestial hierarchy completely in the Paradiso, the final third of the Divine Comedy. In the final Canto, when Dante had reached the Empyrean (the fixed "sphere" wherein God abides) he describes it thus:

"In the profound and shining-clear Existence / Of the deep Light appeared to me three circles / Of one dimension and three different colors. / One seemed to be reflected by the other, / Rainbow by rainbow, while the third seemed fire / Breathed equally from one and from the other. / O how pale now is language and how paltry /  For my conception! / And for what I saw / My words are not enough to call them meager. / O everlasting Light, you dwell alone / In yourself, know yourself alone, and known / And knowing, love and smile upon yourself! / That middle circle which appeared in you / To be conceived as a reflected light, / After my eyes had studied it a while, /  Within itself and in its coloring / Seemed to be painted with our human likeness / So that my eyes were wholly focused on it. / As the geometer who sets himself / To square the circle and who cannot find, / For all his thought, the principle he needs, / Just so was I on seeing this new vision / I wanted to see how our image fuses / Into the circle and finds its place in it, / Yet my wings were not meant for such a flight — Except that then my mind was struck by lightning / Through which my longing was at last fulfilled. / Here powers failed my high imagination: / But by now my desire and will were turned, / Like a balanced wheel rotated evenly, / By the Love that moves the sun and the other stars."

Dante's description of God clearly blends Ezekiel's winged wheels with the Medieval conception of the Prime Mover. God is the source of the turning of the spheres of the physical universe ("The Love that moves the sun and the other stars").

Perhaps we might further compare such an idea with that of the modern conception of string theory. The overly-simplified version states that all matter is composed of strings (of probability, essentially) which vibrate in the tenth dimension and give being to sub atomic particles. It is easiest to think of the tenth dimension as the realm of possibility - it is the sum total of all possible outcomes in all possible universes. Thus, strings are not bound by changes in reality, so to speak, since they exist in a non-(directly)-observable realm of all-things-are-possible.

Pantheism is a false belief, as God is not present in all things in an immanent way, but it is interesting to consider these strings as a way of bridging God's omnipotence and omnipresence. Since God is infinite, he is not bound by time, space, or, presumably, any dimension we could think up. But, it is intriguing to imagine the tenth dimension, wherein the strings vibrate, as a sort of modern primum mobile. It is a sort of Empyrean. If God were in the tenth dimension, He would see all (thus fulfilling the need for a universal observer), but also see all possibilities and all of their possible outcomes. This, I think, preserves our free will, but still allows for God's sovereignty and intervention.

*     *     *

I don't really know why I felt the need to write all of this out, and I'm certainly not sure that I believe it all, but, I think it can be fruitful to start drawing these connections, if only for a way of generating thought experiments. Does all of the above line up with historic Christian doctrine? I suppose it could. But, my purpose was not theological so much as philosophical. As we approach the limits of what we can know definitively about the deepest mysteries of the universe, I think it's sort of fun to jump from the empirical to the spiritual and consider the one's effect on the other. As a Catholic, the unseen is just as real as the seen after all.

Caldwell

A photo of Caldwell Chapel from last semester

I had missed being able to go to daily mass at Caldwell Chapel. I went today at 12:30. They didn't turn on the lights today, as it was very sunny in Washington, and the Chapel was dappled with warm light streaming in from the kaleidoscopic stained-glass windows. The priest spoke very eloquently about the liturgical year, tying today's beginning of Ordinary Time in with the beginning of our "ordinary" time at school. Though we are back in the swing of our routine, it is God who sanctifies time by His presence, imbuing each ordinary day with extraordinary graces.

I think, given the foibles of my wandering mind, that I often get more out of daily mass than I do out of Sunday mass. The succinctness and silence help keep me focused. At Sunday mass, I often get distracted. Or I notice that there are twelve extraordinary ministers of holy communion when only three would suffice. Or I notice that the priest is wearing his stole outside his chasuble (Seriously, Reverend Fathers, why?!). Or I notice that purple of the Advent candles doesn't match the purple of the vestments, which doesn't match the purple of the altar frontal. Perhaps it is a curse of architectural education; at this stage, I am so attuned to noticing detail - specifically from a design standpoint - that it fills up my attention sometimes.

Of course, "getting something out of it" is not why the Church has been given the mass to celebrate. We have it to obtain the immeasurable graces of Christ's redeeming sacrifice of His Body and Blood on the Cross. This is a struggle I have when I attend mass in general. I struggle to resist wanting to get some profit out of it. This struggle reveals the paradox of making the mass intelligible. If the mass where more often in Latin, I would be less disposed, from the start, to want to intellectually digest every little bit.

UPDATE: It seems that we have pondered such things before, back when our beloved pontiff Benedict XVI was on the Throne of Peter.

The Holy Name of Jesus

The Monogram of the Holy Name of Jesus

"But Moses still pleaded with God: How if I appear before the Israelites with the message that the God of their fathers has sent me to them, and they ask me, What is his name? What answer shall I make? And God said to Moses, I am the God who IS; thou shalt tell the Israelites, THE GOD WHO IS has sent me to you. And he charged Moses again, That is what thou shalt tell the sons of Israel, that he who bears this name, the God of their fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob has sent thee to them, and this is the name he will be known by for ever; it shall stand recorded, age after age." - Exodus 3:13-15

"And she will bear a son, whom thou shalt call Jesus, for he is to save his people from their sins." - Matthew 1:21

"So that everything in heaven and on earth and under the earth must bend the knee before the name of Jesus, and every tongue must confess Jesus Christ as the Lord, dwelling in the glory of God the Father." - Philippians 2:10

"The beast is a number, and makes men numbers. But God has a name, and God calls us by our name. He is a Person, and he seeks the person. He has a face, and he seeks our face. He has a heart, and he seeks our heart. For him, we are not some function in a "world machinery". On the contrary, it is precisely those who have no function that are his own. A name allows me to be addressed. A name denotes community. This is why Christ is the true Moses, the fullfiment of the revelation of God's name. He does not bring some new word as God's name; he does more than this, since he himself is the face of God. He himself is the name of God. In him, we can address God as "you", as person, as heart. His own name, Jesus, brings the mysterious name at the burning bush to its fulfillment; now we can see that God had not said all that he had to say but had interrupted his discourse for a time. This is because the name "Jesus" in its Hebrew form includes the word "Yahweh" and adds a further element to it: God "saves". "I am who I am" - thanks to Jesus, this now means: "I am the one who saves you." His Being is salvation." - Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI), The God of Jesus Christ: Meditations on a Triune God

Tolkien on Holy Communion

"Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament… There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves on earth, and more than that: Death: by the divine paradox, that which ends life, and demands the surrender of all, and yet by the taste (or foretaste) of which alone can what you seek in your earthly relationships (love, faithfulness, joy) be maintained, or take on that complexion of reality, of eternal endurance, which every man’s heart desires.

The only cure for sagging or fainting faith is Communion. Though always Itself, perfect and complete and inviolate, the Blessed Sacrament does not operate completely and once for all in any of us. Like the act of Faith it must be continuous and grow by exercise. Frequency is of the highest effect. Seven times a week is more nourishing than seven times at intervals.

Also I can recommend this as an exercise (alas! only too easy to find opportunity for): make your communion in circumstances that affront your taste. Choose a snuffling or gabbling priest or a proud and vulgar friar; and a church full of the usual bourgeois crowd, ill-behaved children – from those who yell to those products of Catholic schools who the moment the tabernacle is opened sit back and yawn – open necked and dirty youths, women in trousers and often with hair both unkempt and uncovered. Go to communion with them (and pray for them). It will be just the same (or better than that) as a mass said beautifully by a visibly holy man, and shared by a few devout and decorous people. It could not be worse than the mess of the feeding of the Five Thousand – after which our Lord propounded the feeding that was to come."

- J.R.R. Tolkien, in a letter to his son

"They took the body down from the cross and one of the few rich men among the first Christians obtained permission to bury it in a rock tomb in his garden; the Romans setting a military guard lest there should be some riot and attempt to recover the body. There was once more a natural symbolism in these natural proceedings; it was well that the tomb should be sealed with all the secrecy of ancient eastern sepulture and guarded by the authority of the Caesars. For in that second cavern the whole of that great and glorious humanity which we call antiquity was gathered up and covered over; and in that place it was buried. It was the end of a very great thing called human history; the history that was merely human. The mythologies and the philosophies were buried there, the gods and the heroes and the sages. In the great Roman phrase, they had lived. But as they could only live, so they could only die; and they were dead.

On the third day the friends of Christ coming at daybreak to the place found the grave empty and the stone rolled away. In varying ways they realised the new wonder; but even they hardly realised that the world had died in the night. What they were looking at was the first day of a new creation, with a new heaven and a new earth; and in a semblance of the gardener God walked again in the garden, in the cool not of the evening but the dawn."

- G.K. Chesterton, from 'The Everlasting Man'

The Church is not a Democracy

I saw a subtitle of some article that read "The Catholic Church will face challenges as society changes, and more balk at its authoritarian stance." When will people realize that the Church's doctrines are not public policy that can be changed on the whim of a bureaucrat at the slightest pressure of public opinion? The Church is authoritarian in its teaching of the truth, because it proclaims Christ - the way, the truth, and the life - as King. Christ's Kingdom is not of this world, but it is in this world - in the hearts of all those who allow Him to be their Sovereign Lord.

Society can and will change, to the benefit of some and the detriment of others, but Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. The truth will continue to be proclaimed, both in and out of season. The Church's sacred duty is to the truth of Christ, Her Spouse and King.

Liturgical Eavesdropping

The other day, I was at The Cup having breakfast and keeping an eye on my artwork which has been on display all month, and I allowed myself to partake in the minor vice of eavesdropping. Well, perhaps it wasn't so much eavesdropping as being in a small room and hearing another person talk rather loudly. I perked up at this line:

"The thing about a Catholic mass or an Orthodox divine liturgy is that Sunday morning worship doesn't look like a Saturday evening concert."

This is a succinct way of describing the uniqueness of liturgical worship. It is timeless, transcendent, and it has the power to sanctify the week in a way nothing else that occurs during the week resembles. This is why our liturgical worship must be safeguarded and celebrated worthily. It has the power to transform the soul through its majesty and beauty.

This cannot be anything else but the worship of God. It can't be confused with a self-help workshop, a concert, or a speech - it is far above and beyond all that.

(Image borrowed from Te Deum Laudamus - the Most Reverend Alexander Sample, Bishop of Marquette (MI) offering the sacrifice of the mass in accordance with the 1962 missal [the Traditional Latin Mass] in the church of Assumption Grotto parish in Detroit)

Something vaguely Byzantine

A little sketch project of the interior of a somewhat Byzantine or Romanesque church. I tend to use the terms interchangeably, as they refer to basically the same architectural movements in the Western and Eastern Roman Empire, respectively. Of course, there are distinctions to be made. As a rule, Byzantine architecture has a deeper focus on the surface and its ornamentation, while Romanesque tends to be focused on massing of architectural elements. The two can form interesting hybrids, though, with Byzantine surface treatments (mosaic, etc.) grafted onto a Romanesque body. And, that's basically what I attempted here.

A few notes are in order. The ceiling is heavy timber and the walls are stone - preferably of the warm, sandy color often found in Romanesque construction, especially in Germany. The nave is rather undecorated, save for a mosaic frieze that runs around the top of the walls, and the windows, which would be stained glass. The sanctuary is dealt with in a detail drawing below.

The sanctuary of any church should be the most rigorously thought-out in terms of iconography and graphic organization. It is the meeting place of heaven and earth during the liturgy, and its artistic scheme should reflect this nexus. In this particular design, I have divided the iconography among three vertical zones.

The first zone is from the vaulted ceiling to the tops of the windows. This zone represents heaven, and is centered on a mosaic image of Christ in Majesty, surrounded by seraphim. The panels to the left and right depict the Twelve apostles, gathered around the heavenly throne. The floral patterns to the far right and left recall the perfection of creation and the restoration of Eden in the New Jerusalem.

The second zone is that of the windows, which represent God's dealings in human history, through the person of Jesus Christ. Windows depicting the Nativity, the Transfiguration, the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, and Pentecost show the working of God throughout the timeline of our earth. The bottom third of the middle three windows is taken up by a depiction of the Last Supper, which graphically connects the image of the Crucifixion with the altar below.

The altar is the focal point of the third zone: that of God's continuing work in the life of humanity. The central crucifix and tabernacle recall the throne of God depicted above, while the gathering of priests and other ministers around the altar recalls the gathering of the Apostles to the throne of Christ. The altar itself is a fairly straightforward model that recalls many of the altars built in this country in the period between 1870 and 1910 or so.

These three zones work organically in the context of the liturgy. The mass, an event taking place at the altar in real time, re-presents the historic sacrifice of the Cross depicted in the central window, and reminds us of the glory of heaven that we are journeying toward.

Churches are theology in stone, and we should strive to have them reflect the divine order of creation instituted by God. We should not make churches mute buildings that we fill with our own meaning. Neither should we be superficial about the way we decorate or adorn our churches. The church building should be a gesamtkunstwerk, a total work of art, where all things within drive home a unified message.

Why You Should Go to Mass (Illustrated Edition!)

This is a useful graphic reminder about why we Catholics do and should attend mass weekly. The Holy Mass is the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross, offered to God the Father, sanctified by the power of the Holy Spirit. It is a sacrifice offered for four ends: to thank God for all that we have, to atone for our sins, to adore God's magnificent being, and to petition God for our various needs.

In recent times (and perhaps in distant times as well), we have sought to make the mass about us and our therapeutic needs. We have perhaps sought to use mass as a means for making us 'feel good' or as a means to 'rejuvenate our spirit.' These are noble side-effects of a mass prayed well, but they should not be the ends toward which we orient all of our thinking about our worship due to God.

YOLO and the Wisdom of Solomon

I have written before on the stupidity of the word YOLO and the phrase it stands for (You Only Live Once, for those whose residence is beneath a rock). Of course, it's easy to just get flustered and rant about such philosophical silliness (and we often do), but it's much more important to look at such a phenomenon within the broader context of what ails modern society.

YOLO, whether spoken, tweeted, said in other words, or simply implied, now passes as a rationale for an action. Carpe Diem has apparently become passe, and we as a culture needed a new catchy saying to prop up our foolish spontaneous actions. Carpe Diem, YOLO, and whatever else we think of next, are quite simply indicative of a society obsessed with self and the flimsy psychological notion of self-fulfillment. In our post-Christian world, it is quite easy to convince ourselves that we can come to total fulfillment (whether spiritual or otherwise) through our own actions, independent of any other. This fits in nicely with our Americanized ideals of complete and utter autonomous individualism. But, like the bizarre Calvinism of Lady Gaga discussed in another post, this thought process is simply an old heresy dressed in new clothes.

In this case, we must draw a comparison to the Pelagians, the special nemeses of St. Augustine, who taught that man was born without Original Sin, and thus had the capacity to attain perfection without the grace of God, by simply following the good example of Christ. The not-so-subtle frame shift here is from God to humanity. We become the masters of our lives and set ourselves up as totally self-reliant and self-fulfilling. Echoes of this are heard in YOLO today: You only live once, so why not be reckless, stupid, lazy, lustful, begrudging, etc. You are the master of your life, after all. You are answerable to no one. Enjoy your total freedom!

The Wisdom of Solomon, one of my favorite books of the Bible (sorry Protestants, you're missing out!), opens with the author exhorting his readers to seek and follow the Spirit of Wisdom, which of course comes from God. In the second chapter, there are the following words which quite simply hit this nail squarely on the head.

"For they reasoned unsoundly, saying to themselves, ‘Short and sorrowful is our life, and there is no remedy when a life comes to its end, and no one has been known to return from Hades. For we were born by mere chance, and hereafter we shall be as though we had never been, for the breath in our nostrils is smoke, and reason is a spark kindled by the beating of our hearts; when it is extinguished, the body will turn to ashes, and the spirit will dissolve like empty air. Our name will be forgotten in time, and no one will remember our works; our life will pass away like the traces of a cloud, and be scattered like mist that is chased by the rays of the sun and overcome by its heat. For our allotted time is the passing of a shadow, and there is no return from our death, because it is sealed up and no one turns back.

‘Come, therefore, let us enjoy the good things that exist, and make use of the creation to the full as in youth. Let us take our fill of costly wine and perfumes, and let no flower of spring pass us by. Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they wither. Let none of us fail to share in our revelry; everywhere let us leave signs of enjoyment, because this is our portion, and this our lot. Let us oppress the righteous poor man; let us not spare the widow or regard the grey hairs of the aged. But let our might be our law of right, for what is weak proves itself to be useless.

‘Let us lie in wait for the righteous man, because he is inconvenient to us and opposes our actions; he reproaches us for sins against the law, and accuses us of sins against our training."- Wisdom 2:1-12

There's just so much to soak in from this passage. It's as though the author had some sort of privileged window on 21st Century America. It shows especially clearly a holistic view of how our current culture has "reasoned unsoundly" and found itself in a variety of philosophical predicaments. Let us progress through some of the more interesting points:

• Reason is a spark kindled by the beating of our hearts - Rather than seeing our reason as a faculty endowed to us by our creator, in union with certain universal absolutes, our culture tends to reason more from personal emotion and feeling, resulting in a bizarre relativism that says that two conflicting viewpoints can both be true.
• Make use of creation to the full as in youth - Disregard for our natural environment is symptomatic of a culture that is self-absorbed. 
• Let none of us fail to share in our revelry - Need I flick on the TV to Jersey Shore? Mindless revelry and a lifeless culture of meaningless relationships and substance abuse is a hallmark of a culture that has lost sight of virtue and fallen into fruitless self-satisfaction.
• Let us oppress the righteous poor man - The plight of the poor in our world is perhaps without equal in all of human history. 
• Let us not spare the widow or regard the grey hairs of the aged - This point has two related aspects - the physical and the mental. We have an increasing disregard for the old in our society. Euthanasia is on the rise because authentic care for the elderly is too difficult. On the other hand, as we continue to dismantle the traditions that bind us together, we insult the wisdom of all of those generations who came before us with a casual sweep of 21st Century pride.
• But let our might be our law of right, for what is weak proves itself to be useless - When might makes right, the weak suffer the most. The most glaring offense in this category is abortion, which perverts the relationship between mother and child into one of power and domination. 
• Let us lie in wait for the righteous man, because he is inconvenient to us - This is only becoming truer by the day. Christ and His Church are inconvenient to society because they often stand in direct opposition to the world and its ways.

Like I said - a lot of good stuff on which to reflect. YOLO is, as I said, a mere symptom of such a society envisioned by the second chapter of Wisdom. A society that has become so absorbed in self it has forgotten both God and neighbor in a whirlwind of revelry, worldly might, and contempt for the truth that sets us all free.

Walking into Church

One of the little rituals of Catholicism that I've come to grow in appreciation of is the simple act of dipping one's fingers into the holy water and making the sign of the cross upon entering a church. It's a small thing, and it speaks softly - but they are important words. It says in a physical way that I have entered God's house and I acknowledge God's presence. Genuflecting toward the tabernacle before sitting in the pew is of the same species of ritual - small, simple, but oh so important in the way that we relate to Our Lord. These small rituals say to us very clearly: "You are standing on holy ground."

It's all to do with the Eucharist of course. When you know that the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Lord is reserved within the tabernacle of a church, it only makes sense to thus acknowledge Him.

On the Unique Bigness of the Church

I'm working my way through G.K. Chesterton's masterwork The Everlasting Man, in which he describes a general outline of the spiritual history of mankind and how the person of Jesus Christ transformed that history. It is a fantastic work, chock full of Chesterton's political-correctness shattering wit and wisdom. He says something very insightful about the Church and its uniqueness as an institution:

"The Church contains what the world does not contain. Life itself does not provide as she does for all sides of life. That every other single system is narrow and insufficient compares to this one; that is not a rhetorical boast; it is a real fact and a real dilemma. Where is the Holy Child amid the Stoics and the ancestor-worshipers? Where is Our Lady of the Muslims, a woman made for no man and set above all angels? Where is St. Michael of the monks of Buddha, rider and master of the trumpets, guarding for every soldier the honour of the sword? What could St. Thomas Aquinas do with the mythology of Brahminism, he who set forth all the science and rationality and even rationalism of Christianity? Yet even if we compare Aquinas with Aristotle, at the other extreme of reason, we shall find the same sense of something added. Aquinas could understand the most logical parts of Aristotle; it is doubtful if Aristotle could have understood the most mystical parts of Aquinas. Even where we can hardly call the Christian greater, we are forced to call him larger." - G.K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man, Part II Ch. 2 The God in the Cave

This elegant description of the all-encompassing nature of the Church has echoes in the words of the early Christian theologian, St. Cyril of Jerusalem, who says something similar in his exposition on the phrase "one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church" from the Creed.

"It (the Church) is called Catholic then because it extends over all the world, from one end of the earth to the other; and because it teaches universally and completely one and all the doctrines which ought to come to men's knowledge, concerning things both visible and invisible, heavenly and earthly ; and because it brings into subjection to godliness the whole race of mankind, governors and governed, learned and unlearned; and because it universally treats and heals the whole class of sins, which are committed by soul or body, and possesses in itself every form of virtue which is named, both in deeds and words, and in every kind of spiritual gifts." - St. Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures, Lecture 18 Part 23

The universal mission of the Church is an ever-fruitful source for meditation.

Feed the World (Do They Know it's Christmastime?)

"Behold a virgin shall be with child, and bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel," which means "God with us." - St. Matthew 1:23

It is a startlingly simple verse. In St. Matthew's forthright proclamation, we see the entire economy of salvation in one sentence: God has come to dwell among us, his people. The sentiment is echoed elsewhere, in the Revelation to St. John: "And I heard a great voice from the throne, saying: Behold the tabernacle of God is with men: and he will dwell with them. And they shall be his people: and God himself with them shall be their God" (Rev. 21:3). In both instances - in the first coming of Christ as an infant in a manger and the second coming of Christ as king at the end of time - we see God coming to us. This is the fundamental fact of Christianity: we seek God, and God seeks us.

But, upon further inspection, we see that the work of the Trinity has not confined God to the beginning of the first millennium and the end of days, God is constantly reaching out to us through the work of his Holy Spirit in the Church. Most obviously, His sacramental presence in the Eucharist turns both of these verses into statements of present fact rather than fulfilled and yet-to-be-fulfilled prophecy. Let us consider the Eucharistic dimensions of both circumstances.

In his birth at Bethlehem, Jesus reveals a number of things about his continued presence among his people. Firstly, Bethlehem is a place-name which means "House of Bread", which of course has obvious Eucharistic overtones. Furthermore, the manger must not be overlooked - it was a place where animals came to feed. Are we not animals to one another without the constant grace of God? And, even further, we must consider that Bethlehem was the city of David, the king. Christ is the new and eternal king, who reigns over the universe forever. David had wished to build a proper temple for sacrifice. God would not permit him for he had ruined his purity by waging war. God instead chose Mary, the pure virgin, to bring forth Christ the eternal temple, priest, and sacrifice - Emmanuel. Micah 5:1 proclaims something to this effect: "And you Bethlehem Ephrata, are a little one among the thousands of Juda, out of you shall he come forth unto me that is to be the ruler in Israel: and his going forth is from the beginning, from the days of eternity."

St. John in recording his visions in Revelation describes the new Jerusalem coming down from heaven as a bride prepared for her husband. The wedding feast of the lamb described in the surrounding chapters paints us a picture of perfect communion with the Lamb of God - a communion foreshadowed during each mass when we receive the Lamb of God in the sacrament.

God is not confined by time. By his very nature, God is eternal, and he acts in eternal ways. "Jesus Christ, yesterday, and today: and the same for ever," says the author of the letter to the Hebrews. God, when he came among us as a child in a manger is the same as the God who will establish his communion with us at the end of time in the eternal banquet of the Lamb. This is the same God, who by the power of his spirit, manifests himself in the Eucharist, at every mass, every day, around the world, "from the rising of the sun, even unto its setting."

The oracle of the prophet Isaiah, repeated by St. Matthew, is daily fulfilled: "The virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and she shall name him Emmanuel, God is with us." The eternal manna daily comes down from heaven to feed the world, just as it did 2,011 years ago in Bethlehem, and just as it will in the untold future when Christ returns in glory. This year for Christmas, consider all of the blessings God has given us, and take special note of the blessing of the Eucharist - God with us.

You are all fair, my love; there is no flaw in you

Today is the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a holy day of obligation for all Catholics. It is on this day that we recall the conception of Mary without sin in the womb of her mother, Anne. God, in his mercy and providence, preserved Mary from all stain of sin from the moment of her conception onward, so that she would become a sanctified vessel for bearing Our Lord. 

Our Lady, under the title of her Immaculate Conception has been invoked as patroness of the United States since 1792, when John Carroll, the first bishop of Baltimore (and the first Catholic bishop in the United States), asked her special protection for the nation. Pope Pius IX formalized this act in 1847. It is to her, especially on this memorial of her conception, that we Americans should ask for her intercession before God's throne for the sake of our nation. 

Since Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception is our patroness, we have honored her in this country with the building of a spectacular church in our nation's capital. The Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C. is truly an architectural monument of great beauty. It is the largest Catholic church in the United States, the eighth largest religious structure in the world, and the tallest building in the District of Columbia. Construction began in 1920 and was completed in 1959, though interior decoration continues to this day, with the main dome's mosaics yet to be completed as planned.

I have had the great privilege of visiting this splendid basilica during the course of a high school trip to Washington to take part in the March for Life. It is truly an awe-inspiring and beautiful place. The architecture is a curious - but successful - mix of Byzantine and Romanesque motifs. One gets the feeling that the architects took the Basilica of St. Francis in Assisi, the Basilica of St. Mark in Venice, and the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul and melted them together. Marian symbols and quotations abound, and the crypt is lined with chapels devoted to Our Lady under her many titles. The crypt also displays several other pieces of interest, most interestingly the papal tiara of Pope Paul VI. 

The photo shows the high altar and the sanctuary decorated for Christmas. The mosaic in the apse (i.e. the background of the photo) is a particularly stern depiction of Jesus in majesty.

The Unity of the Church

This past week, I went to a Bible study held by architecture students. I believe, though am not entirely sure, that I was the only Catholic in attendance. This was an interesting situation; as my frame of reference for scripture is so different than a non-Catholic's. We are studying St. Paul's letter to the Philippians. We got to chapter 1, verse 27, which reads (emphases mine):

"Only let your conversation be worthy of the gospel of Christ: that, whether I come and see you, or, being absent, may hear of you, that you stand fast in one spirit, with one mind labouring together for the faith of the gospel."

The discussion soon turned to Paul's exhortation that the Philippians remain in one mind and one spirit, and we were reminded of Jesus' prayer at the Last Supper that all of his followers might be one. The group then began saying how all Christians should be united in the gospel. I couldn't help but notice the irony in their statements. There are thousands of Protestant denominations throughout the world, with no one denomination teaching exactly the same thing as another. This is the great tragedy of Protestantism: once one has removed the Pope, one becomes a pope unto oneself. That is, if one person is allowed to interpret the gospel as he sees it, he will naturally come into conflict with someone else who disagrees with his interpretation. This leads to disunity, not unity. This is not what Jesus wanted. He wanted (and Paul reminds us) his followers to be in one spirit and one mind. There is only one body of Christ.

The early Fathers of the Church understood this fact well. Here follow some of their statements on the unity of the Church, and its nature throughout the whole world.

"As I have already observed, the Church, having received this preaching and this faith, although scattered throughout the whole world, yet, as if occupying but one house, carefully preserves it. She also believes these points [of doctrine] just as if she had but one soul, and one and the same heart, and she proclaims them, and teaches them, and hands them down, with perfect harmony, as if she possessed only one mouth. For, although the languages of the world are dissimilar, yet the import of the tradition is one and the same. For the Churches which have been planted in Germany do not believe or hand down anything different, nor do those in Spain, nor those in Gaul, nor those in the East, nor those in Egypt, nor those in Libya, nor those which have been established in the central regions of the world. But as the sun, that creature of God, is one and the same throughout the whole world, so also the preaching of the truth shines everywhere, and enlightens all men that are willing to come to a knowledge of the truth. Nor will any one of the rulers in the Churches, however highlygifted he may be in point of eloquence, teach doctrines different from these (for no one is greater than the Master); nor, on the other hand, will he who is deficient in power of expression inflict injury on the tradition. For the faith being ever one and the same, neither does one who is able at great length to discourse regarding it, make any addition to it, nor does one, who can say but little diminish it." - St. Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 1.10:2

"It is called Catholic then because it extends over all the world, from one end of the earth to the other; and because it teaches universally and completely one and all the doctrines which ought to come to men's knowledge, concerning things both visible and invisible,heavenly and earthly ; and because it brings into subjection to godliness the whole race of mankind, governors and governed, learned and unlearned; and because it universally treats and heals the whole class of sins, which are committed by soul or body, and possesses in itself every form of virtue which is named, both in deeds and words, and in every kind of spiritual gifts." - St. Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures, 18:23

"It follows after commendation of the Trinity, The Holy Church. God is pointed out, and His temple. For the temple of God is holy,says the Apostle, which (temple) are you. This same is the holy Church, the one Church, the true Church, the catholic Church, fighting against all heresies: fight, it can: be fought down, it cannot. As for heresies, they went all out of it, like as unprofitable branches pruned from the vine: but itself abides in its root, in its Vine, in its charity. The gates of hell shall not prevail against it." - St. Augustine, Sermon to Catechumens on the Creed, 14

It seems to me that in these three examples, the leaders of the early Church understood unity well. They knew that Jesus desired all of his followers to remain in the Church that he established, "So that from the rising of the sun to its setting, my name is great among the Gentiles, and in every place there is a sacrifice and there is a clean oblation offered to my name; for my name is great among the Gentiles, says the Lord of hosts." (Malachi 1:11)

Paradise Regained?

"If we had to choose today, would Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Mary, the Son of the Father, have a chance? Do we really know Jesus at all? Do we understand him? Do we not perhaps have to make an effort, today as always, to get to know him all over again? The tempter is not so crude as to suggest to us directly that we should worship the devil. He merely suggests that we opt for the reasonable decision, that we choose to give priority to a planned and thoroughly organized world, where God may have his place as a private concern but must not interfere in our essential purposes." - Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus of Nazareth, Ch. 2

Ever since we got the boot out of Eden, we humans have been trying desperately to regain our earthly paradise. Perhaps we can say it began with the story of the tower of Babel, when we thought we could pridefully build our way back up to God. The attempts have continued since.

We have been discussing in my history of architecture class the various reactionary movements inspired by the Industrial Revolution. Mechanization of industry set in motion a number of attempts at Utopianism - attempting to create a beautiful, equal, and productive society. Of course, the most vile of these was Marxism, which lead to untold misery and disaster. However, it is perhaps the more milder ideas that still influence us the most. The captains of industry building rational, self-sufficient suburbs for their workers. The City Beautiful movement that sought to bring life and equality into city life. The Arts and Crafts movement that brought production away from the machines back into the hands of skilled artisans, who organized themselves in self-sufficient guilds.

The idea that we can somehow establish a utopian society on earth rests on two fundamental assumptions: that human beings are on a constant trajectory of moral and social advancement, and that our priorities are utterly and completely based alleviating all suffering in this world. Evidence of these two assumptions is plentiful in our American society. We laugh at the silliness and ignorance of those who came before us - thinking ourselves the most enlightened generation to ever walk the earth. We live in the 21st Century, for God's sake! We are naturally superior! We have evolved out of all that nonsense! Why does anyone need to suffer? Look at all of the technology we have developed, surely we can save ourselves from destruction of any kind!

We, as a society, have opted for a planned and thoroughly organized world. A world of complete rationality, escape from suffering, and constant material advancement. Where does God fit into a society where we set ourselves up as our own saviors? He is treated merely as an inherited cultural superstition - harmless to invoke in private, but an offense to our enlightened and decidedly sensible civilization.

My colleagues and friends are all engaged in professions that involve progress. I am not here to remotely suggest that progress in medicine, engineering, or design is inherently bad - quite the contrary! We are indeed called to assist our fellow man. However, it is when we suggest that we can exterminate suffering and live in complete peace and harmony that we approach the dangerous pride and subsequent ruin of Babel.

Isaiah's Trip to Purgatory

We will continue our little adventures in Biblical interpretation with a look at the oft-unpopular teaching of the Church regarding purgatory. Purgatory, says the high school history teacher, was an invention of the Medieval Church used to control people's access to the afterlife by preying on their fears and superstitions. Blah de blah de blah de blah. Of course, reality often runs contrary to the blithering of well-intentioned - but misinformed - high school teachers. So, in order to get ourselves back on course, we shall begin with a few relevant excerpts from the Catechism of the Catholic Church - straight from the horse's mouth (a very large, two thousand year old, splotchy horse). Emphases mine.

1030 All who die in God's grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven.

Let us focus especially on the last sentence of that paragraph. Heaven is defined as the soul's eternal life in the presence of God. God is all-holy and all-perfect. In order to be in the presence of God, we too must be all-holy and all-perfect. Let us look at the scriptures for some evidence:

"Speak to the whole Israelite community and tell them: Be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy." - Leviticus 19:2

"Strive for peace with everyone, and that holiness without which no one will see the Lord." - Hebrews 12:14

Clearly, as these passages point out, we are called to holiness in this life. Of course, we often miss the mark and fall into sin. Christ is the way out of sin and back on track (through the graces of confession), but we sometimes still have to suffer the effects of a sin that has been confessed (in a case of adultery for instance). We are often still far away from God and his holiness, even when God's mercy has restored our relationship to him. This is where the doctrine of purgatory has its roots: we need to be completely purified, of both the spiritual and temporal consequences of our sin before we can stand in the presence of a God who is perfection.

The title of this post refers to an episode that occurs early in the book of the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah is being called by God and has a vision:

"In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifter up; and his train filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim; each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; and the whole earth is full of his glory." And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: "Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" Then flew one of the seraphim to me, having in his hand a burning coal which he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth, and said: "Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin forgiven."" - Isaiah 6:1-7

In this passage we see the entire notion of purgatory played out, as it were, before the fact of Isaiah's death. Isaiah's vision is of God in glory in heaven (the temple), surrounded by the seraphim who are shouting to one another about God's triune holiness. Isaiah senses his unworthiness to be in the presence of God both for having unclean lips and for even living among those with unclean lips. God, in his mercy, sends a seraphim with a hot coal that purifies - or purges - Isaiah's tongue and takes away both his sins and the guilt of his sins. Isaiah is then allowed to stand in the presence of God.

We can hope for a similar outcome at the time of our deaths. We know Isaiah was not in mortal sin, for he was favored by God with the gift of revelation of prophecy. However, even a prophet, a holy man of God, was not worthy to stand in the presence of God without being cleansed by fire from the temple. Even if we receive God's mercy through confession and are reconciled to him through the power of the Cross, we still have guilt and sadness and suffering because of our sins. How happy for us that all of this will be taken away by the cleansing fires of purgatory so that we may stand before God unblemished and holy as he is holy.