Father’s Cassock

Yesterday, I was having a chat with one of our parish priests. I had always noticed that behind his long black cassock, just below the armpits and connected to the waist, dangled some black twine. I took that opportunity to finally ask him what they symbolized.

“They’re for those formal occasions when I wear a sash. It’s so the sash doesn’t fall.”

“Oh,” I replied. “I thought they had some other meaning, like how Hasidic Jews have tzitzits on their garments.”

“Yes, that’s right. But no, these are purely functional.” He added, “You can order them from the catalogue with or without the strings.”

I probably should have moved on from there instead of being a smart-aleck.

“There’s a catalogue? Is it called L.L. PriestJ. ClergyFather Eddie Bauer?”

 

I recently read a blog post from a fellow Catholic living on the other side of the country, who was responding to another article on the notion of “Sacramental Gatekeeping.” Namely, the original writer’s concern was that many diocesan Sacrament preparation courses are beginning to institute requirements that are too difficult to accomplish. At times, these may even be unnecessary or irrelevant to the particular Sacrament—put in only to ensure the recipient is serious about the process.

I wholly agree that there needs to be a program in place prior to receiving Sacraments. This way, the Church can be sure that those infants receiving Baptism will be raised by their parents and Godparents in the teachings of the faith. Those going to Reconciliation know the importance of mending their relationship with God, of confessing properly, and will be encouraged to seek it regularly. For First Communion, it is imperative the recipient acknowledge the true presence of Jesus so they can be in the proper state to receive Him. Our confirmandi need to be able to stand as adult Catholics and not fall to the wayside after being anointed. Those entering the vocations of Marriage and Holy Orders must adhere to their vows until death.

These programs have to be FIRM—but, fair. We do want recipients to know the value and importance of receiving them—and we also want them to receive Penance and Communion regularly. But, we do not want the process to be so stringent that those who do mean well drop out of a program because of technicalities—especially those that are irrelevant to the particular Sacrament.

The conservative Catholic in me has one qualm, however. I do not want to be that “holier-than-thou” guy, but I go to Reconciliation regularly enough to notice there is a disproportionate amount lining up outside confessionals on Saturday afternoons to those approaching the altar for Communion on Sunday mornings. For those of us who talk about defending our Sacraments, should we not be more scrutinizing about who receives Communion? One would think this would be more protected than the rest as we acknowledge the true presence of our Lord in the Eucharist.

For further reading, check out Fr. Peter Stravinskas’ Understanding the Sacraments.

 

A Proud Teacher

I am going to leave the names and locations out because they are unimportant. This happened to me about ten years ago when I was working as an English teacher at a private all-boys Catholic high school. It was my first job out of college and was still wet behind the ears, learning the ropes of the profession, learning how to be responsible and take charge of a group of rowdy teenagers—when I myself was in my teens not more than two years before.

I was chaperoning my group on an outreach at an orphanage for children with severe mental and physical impairments. Before we left campus, our chaplain gave a talk to my class of knuckleheads. He told them these children we were visiting have a special place in the Lord’s heart: because they were born without the same mental capacities as us, they did not possess the same ability to commit conscious sin. To wit, these children—if baptized—would go straight to Heaven upon death. And because all souls were equal regardless of the physical or mental state of the body they inhabited, they would recall with full clarity everything that occurred to them during their life. If my students demonstrated compassion towards them, it would be remembered well in Heaven.

At the orphanage, they all unhesitatingly jumped in, not wincing at even the most physically disabled of the residents. They read to them, they fed them, they fluffed pillows and folded blankets, they did all they could to be of service. Though commendable in itself, it did not seem thoroughly genuine. It was like they were doing it only because they were prompted.  Or, to show off.

Then I noticed one of my students had separated from the larger group. He was attending to one orphan in a cot in an isolated ward. I decided to eavesdrop. Perhaps I could finally have a story to share with our chaplain about how only this one student demonstrated true Christian compassion with humility. Sure enough, he was having a casual conversation with his new friend as he spoon-fed him.  I felt warmth in my heart: I knew then what it meant to be a proud teacher.

When he was done, he wiped the orphan’s mouth.  He gave him a loving pat on the head.  He  looked over his shoulder but did not see me.  He leaned in closer and whispered to the child: “Pssst.” He pointed to his own face. “Remember me after you’re dead, okay?”

If it would not have cost me my job, I would have slapped him in the back of his head. Knuckleheads….

 

Starring Jesus Christ

The Passion of the Christ DVDThis is the time of the year that The Passion of the Christ starts flying off the shelves. Mel Gibson’s portrayal of the final hours of Jesus and the brutality of His execution is lauded as one of, if not the greatest film on the life and death of our Lord. It bested tried-and-true classics as Franco Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth and Cecil B. DeMille’s The King of Kings among many credible critics.

Then there are those interpretations that have left many Catholics scratching their heads: Martin Scorsese’s controversial The Last Temptation of Christ, though its ultimate point stressed the necessity of Jesus’ death for our salvation, it portrays Him in ways that are contradictory to the Church’s teachings. Even the musicals Godspell (Stephen Schwartz and John-Michael Tebelak) and Jesus Christ, Superstar (Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber) have many questioning the unconventional medium in which the gospel is delivered along with the anachronisms and inconsistencies written in for entertainment value. And of course, there is Monty Python’s explicitly blasphemous Life of Brian, whose 1979 release had the Catholic Church, as well as other Christian groups, calling for a boycott.

Apart from inspiring filmmakers to retell His story, Jesus’ example of love and self-sacrifice has pervaded into other popular films that do not have an overt religious slant. The Wachowski brothers’ The Matrix trilogy comes to mind: the audience is constantly bombarded with Christian themes and allusions that an informed viewer would instantly make the connection that Neo (who in the film is often referred to as “The One”) is modeled wholesale after the Messiah.

But let us look at some other mainstream films that at first perusal do not obviously invoke our Lord. It is only towards the end, after experiencing an image uncannily similar to a scene from the Gospel, that one suddenly draws all the connections for the film as a whole. Scenes once dismissed as superficial and purely expository reveal their deeper significance. This epiphany is what makes watching films enjoyable.

If you have not seen these titles, do not read further, as the endings will be disclosed.

There is a scene in Darren Aronofsky’s Oscar-nominated The Wrestler where Randy “The Ram” Robinson’s back could be seen—there is a tattoo of the suffering Jesus. Many parallels have been made to Gibson’s Passion:  presented is a man who subjected himself to extreme pain and suffering for his faithful followers (both directors give us a healthy helping of squirm-inducing scenes), and here is a man who has willingly chosen the path to his certain death.  The final scene of The Ram flying through the air  is reminiscent of the outspread arms of Jesus crucified.  On the side, the character of Cassidy calls to mind Mary Magdalene—a woman reduced to a sexual object properly given her dignity.

Richard Kelly’s Donnie Darko has stirred much debate regarding its many underlying themes—one of them being self-sacrifice. In the end, we see the title character realizing it is his actions that has caused the domino effect of consecutive tragedies, and having been privy to the secrets of time travel, chose to return to the past and die instead from the event that started it all. Midway through the story, Donnie goes to the theater. Displayed prominently on the marquee is The Last Temptation of Christ. This is fitting because in Scorsese’s exploration, his Jesus chose to eschew death on the cross. Realizing later the necessity of that death for salvation, Jesus returned to Calvary to die, just like Donnie did.

All of Scripture, in essence, is like any film: our Bible tells us the story of where we came from, how we got lost, our struggle to return home, and in its climax shows us how we all came to be saved. It is like most every film in that we know—and expect—there will be a happily ever after.