18 August 2012

Sacrament of Reconciliation: Chore or Ritual?

I need to go to Reconciliation; to be restored to a state of grace, first and foremost, but also frequently, to be strengthened by its Sacramental Grace. But I need time in prayer asking guidance of disposition, for Confession is a sacrament that I have trouble with. Not in general: it is one of the most theologically beautiful of God's gifts to us--perhaps the most tangible sign of God's loving hand as Father of the Prodigal Son, who must chastise and teach His children to grow in virtue but also celebrate their return to his arms. No, my trouble with the Sacrament stems from a block internal, and in part external, that keeps me from experiencing Confession as sacrament and rite, but as a chore.

13 August 2012

St Hippolytus, Oremus!

Today is the feast of St. Hippolytus of Rome (on the Western Calendar), who has the dubious distinction of being the first Anti-Pope, but so beloved by both factions was the man that he was quickly raised to the altars after his death as a martyr of the faith. He is not celebrated on the contemporary Roman calendar,* which is a shame, for not only would it be hard to contest the holiness of a man who represented the division of the Church, yet was celebrated as a saint, Saint Hippolytus is attributed with writing what has become probably the most commonly used Eucharistic canon, Eucharistic Prayer II.

03 August 2012

The Habit of Perfection by Gerard Manley Hopkins

A poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins for Friday's fasting ("The can must be so sweet, the crust / So fresh that comes in fasts divine!") and a necessary reminder that God's grace is ever present, but the acceptance of that grace, and the life worthy of its gift, is a matter of discipline, habit, the repetition of small sacrifices for the love of God, a thousand, daily, tiny steps toward heaven ...

The Habit of Perfection

Elected Silence, sing to me
And beat upon my whorlèd ear,
Pipe me to pastures still and be
The music that I care to hear.

02 August 2012

The Religious Perspective of Eternity in Art

I'm currently reading The Discovery of Heaven by Harry Mulisch, a wonderfully broad and rambling novel. In it, one of the principal characters, Max, is teasing a former art history student and what follows is an interesting exposition on perspective and eternity in medieval art ...
"Perhaps we should see everything in perspective." [said Max.]
"What perspective?"
This time she seemed to understand him even better than he had intended. She turned onto her stomach and said didactically:
"Eternity and perspective are incompatible. Shall I tell you something, Dutch Max? Perspective was discovered int he fifteenth century. Up till then God had always fitted very naturally into the space of the painting, a Madonna and child for example, but that space itself was unnatural. He simply sat on a throne in the blue sky, above the Madonna, with some circles and stars around him; or on the left you had St. Dionysius wearing an elegant mitre in a dungeon and on the right later after his head had been chopped off, and in the center Christ, naked on the cross hundreds of years earlier, surrounded by the twelve apostles in bishop's robes: all of that quite naturally in one impossible space at one impossible moment. But with the discovery of central perspective, natural space and natural time were defined. Someone on a chair in the sky would fall down, and things that followed each other could not happen simultaneously. So that was the beginning of the end of eternity."
And in many ways, the art student is right. To the Church Fathers and mediaeval theologians, the Cross was the axis mundi, not only of space, but time. The life, passion, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth were not events long past in a backwater province of Rome; they were fully present in the sacraments, with greatest perfection in the Eucharist, and in a special, personal way at Baptism:

"Or do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus have been baptized into His death? Therefore we have been buried with Him through baptism into death ..." Rm 6:3-4a. And we have undergone Baptism not only that we might be present to the salvation of the Cross but also that "as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life." Rm 6:4b. By the sacraments, time is meaningless and eternity is always present to us. In fact, in reference to this, C.S. Lewis said that "the present is the point at which time touches eternity." It is that idea and that promise on which we place our hopes.

So it is vitally important that organizations and individuals like the New Liturgical Movement, The Foundation for Sacred Arts, the Sacred Art Pilgrim, and the Orthodox Arts Journal continue exploring ways to portray the eternal in art, sacred space and liturgy. The uniquely spiritual form of the Icon is a particularly potent window into this eternity, just as chant remains the equivalent form of music. We need, in concrete tangible forms, that sense of the eternal Presence of the Trinity, the eternal Now of the saving power of the Crucifixion; it is our constant star that guides us to the manger, the cross, and heaven.