THE LITURGICAL YEAR

Sermons, hymns, meditations and other musings to guide our annual pilgrim's progress through the liturgical year.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

OUR LADY OF RANSOM

A MESSAGE FOR THE 16th SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


In the year of our Lord 1218 St. Peter Nolasco was inspired to establish a religious order for the redemption of captives seized by the Moors in Spain and on the high seas.  Within five years the Order of Mercedarians was legally constituted at Barcelona by King James of Aragon and was approved by Pope Gregory IX on 17 January 1235.  A feast day was instituted and observed on 24 September (which is today) first in the religious order, then in Spain and France, and finally in 1696 Pope Innocent XII extended it to the entire Church.  This feast day was celebrated both under the title Our Lady or Ransom, or Our Lady of Mercy.
A little known yet ancient devotion introduced by the Order of Our Lady of Mercy is the Crown of Twelve Stars of Our Lady of Mercy.   It is based on the Book of the Apocalypse (12:1): "And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars."  It is prayed on a chaplet, consisting of a medal, five Paternoster beads and three sets of four beads each where the Ave Maria is prayed in honor of Our Lady's Crown of Excellence. The chaplet ends with a Gloria Patri.

The vision of St. John the Divine of this "great sign in heaven" has been in the news this week.  Apparently, certain imprudent Christian astronomers have been  busy predicting the end of the world for September 23, which was yesterday.  If you are reading this, it didn't happen.  But it is interesting nevertheless that there did appear in the heavens last night one of those signs in the sky predicted by our Lord, which were supposed to herald his Second Coming, a prediction which seems to have been amply fulfilled over the past few weeks between the hurricanes, earthquakes, and threats from North Korea:  "Nation shall rise against nation... and great earthquakes shall be in divers places; and fearful sights and great signs shall there be from heaven.  And there shall be signs in the sun, and in the moon, and in the stars; and upon the earth distress of nations, with perplexity; the sea and the waves roaring" (John 21: 10, 11, 25).

What drew the attention of those astronomers was the extraordinary alignment of sun, moon and stars which seemed to present us with a celestial image of St. John's vision of the woman clothed with the sun.  Space precludes us from including all the astronomical details of the sun passing through the constellation of Virgo at this time, with all the other remarkable "coincidences"(?) reflecting the description in Apocalypse, but suffice it to say they are worthy of consideration.  What happens next of course remains to be seen, but given the concurrence of today's feast of Our Lady of Mercy with the possible fulfillment of so many prophecies—not to mention that the latest hurricane to hit the Caribbean happens to be called Maria—it would seem to be at least prudent to pray the Crown of Twelve Stars devotion as described above, invoking our Blessed Mother's protection and blessing on our Church, our nation, and our world. 

KNOW YOUR PLACE

A SERMON FOR THE 16th SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


The author Charles Dickens has given the world a large number of memorable characters.  One of the most instantly recognizable—and dislikeable—personalities is the character Uriah Heep.  This loathsome figure from the novel David Copperfield is the epitome of greed, avarice and ambition, but he hides these vices behind a cloak of affected humility, or “‘umbleness” as he calls it.  In an attempt to distract us from his real agenda which is to gain control over his master’s fortune, the obsequious servant continually seeks to divert our attention to his own ‘umbleness, bowing and scraping with affected self-effacement.

Uriah Heep has become synonymous with false humility, and this Sunday’s Gospel gives us the opportunity to examine this unpleasant pitfall in the spiritual life.

In his parable of the wedding feast Christ provides us with the key to knowing the difference between pride and humility.  You’ll find this key in the words “Whosoever exalteth himself shall be humbled.” To be even more specific, the key word is “himself”.  If someone else exalts you, that’s okay.  But if you exalt yourself it isn’t.  In other words, there are times in our life when we are called upon to receive honors, or accolades of praise, and there is nothing wrong with accepting them, providing, of course, that we do so with true humility.  But if we let the praise and honor go to our head, this is when we are still in danger of falling into the sin of pride.  Or if we seek the honor for its own sake, again we are exalting ourselves and guilty of pride.  It's not a bad thing to compete with others if it's for the sake of improving ourselves, or so that we might bring honor to the team or country we represent.  It's even okay to compete for financial or other gain.  But we should never compete so that we may receive the honor and adulation of others.

If we look at the history of the Catholic Church we will find two excellent examples of true humility and false humility.  The first example is that of a man who was deathly afraid of the honors he was about to receive, knowing full well the terrible responsibility and dangers that would come with those honors.  His name was Giuseppe Sarto, and he was the Patriarch of Venice.  When Pope Leo XIII died in 1903, Cardinal Sarto was summoned to Rome along with all the other cardinals of the Church, there to elect a successor to the Pope.  The Breviary tells us that “When the votes of the College of Cardinals began to increase in his favour, he tried in vain with supplications and tears to be relieved of so heavy a burden.” But the cardinals were so moved by his sincerity that he received even more votes, ensuring his election as pope.  As the college of cardinals turned to him with the traditional formality requesting him to accept the papacy, Cardinal Sarto was horrified and at first could not bring himself to accept the papacy, withdrawing to pray in anguish, like our Lord in Gethsemane, that this chalice may be taken from him.  Finally, the other cardinals persuaded him that his election was the will of God, and, in the words of the Breviary he “ceded to their persuasions, saying I accept the cross.  Thus he accepted the crown of the supreme pontificate as a cross, offering himself to God, with a resigned but stedfast spirit.”   These words I have just read are taken from the lessons of Matins on his feastday.  And yes, this humble cardinal does have a feastday, because he went on to become not only a great pope, but a great saint.  He took the name of Pope Pius X, and defended the Church against the modernism that was already attacking her at the beginning of the 20th century.  The Breviary goes on to describe his papacy in these terms:  “Placed upon the chair of Peter, he gave up nothing of his former way of life.  He shone especially in humility, simplicity and poverty, so that he was able to write in his last testament: I was born in poverty, I lived in poverty, and I wish to die in poverty.  His humility, however, nourished his soul with strength, when it concerned the glory of God, the liberty of Holy Church, and the salvation of souls.”  Did St. Pius X refuse the trappings of the papacy, the tiara, the sedia gestatoria, the solemn Masses and so on?  No, he accepted them all with humility, recognizing that it is the high and exalted office that he holds which is being honored, not his own person.  Try and imagine what a truly humbling and mortifying experience it would be if we ourselves were carried around on the sedia gestatoria and treated with all the pomp and ritual of a solemn papal ceremony, horribly aware all the time of our own sins and unworthiness before God.

A hundred years after the death of St. Pius X, the modernist onslaught against the Church that he fought so hard to repel has succeeded in taking over the Church’s hierarchy and institutions.  And yet, the supposed successor of St. Pius X is also admired by the world for his humility.  They have come to associate the word "humble" with Pope Francis just as routinely as we associate the word "crooked" with Hilary.  But are they right in his case?  Is his humility real, or merely a masquerade?

The history of Jorge Bergoglio tells a far different story from the image he has tried to portray since reaching his goal of becoming pope.  In the papal election that brought us Benedict XVI, Bergoglio came in as runner-up, and was determined that the next time he wouldn't lose.  He carefully positioned himself for the top job in the Church, wooing other cardinals, seeking out photo-ops, interviews with the media, as if he were running in a presidential primary.  His ambition was as transparent as it was inappropriate.  On being elected, he instantly made headlines by doing away with one papal tradition after another.  Stepping out on to the balcony of St. Peter’s after his election he refused, for example, to stand on the elevated platform reserved for him, saying “I’ll stay down here,” rejecting the ermine robe that popes traditionally wear for their first appearance before the faithful in St. Peter's Square.  Not a big thing perhaps, but indicative of his long-thought-out agenda of making himself appear "humble and holy" while at the same time lowering the respect due to the office of pope.  The media were quick to push this image of the world's latest celebrity, and the people were taken in, quickly becoming blissfully convinced of his humility as he returned to his hotel to pay his own bill, driving himself around the Vatican in his Ford Focus, refusing the red papal shoes, and moving out of the papal apartments because they are too good for him, a poor ‘umble man.

Faced with this barrage of public relations propaganda from Rome and the media, we might even be tempted at times to believe this constant spectacle of unbridled “humility”.    But when a man promotes his own image to the detriment of the office he holds, this is not true humility, but a sham.  When a man seeks to destroy God's Church even as he prepares the world for his own canonization, when he believes his plan is better than God’s, when he rejects two thousand years of the tradition he was elected to preserve and pass on, in favor of promoting one measure after the other to annihilate the last traditions Rome may have clung to, we can clearly see the difference between this modern Uriah Heep and the saintly Pope Pius X.   

Since the time of our Lord, the Church preserved the dignity of the papal office so that it was held in reverence throughout the world.  People genuflected when a pope walked into the room, because he was the Vicar of Christ on earth.  Bergoglio arrogantly believes that the reverence is for his own personality, not the office he holds,, and so cannot abide to have people fuss over him, making the childish mistake that it really is “him” they are fussing over, and not the God he is supposed to be representing.  Even some of the modernist faithful have begun to see through his unctuous displays of humility.  I read an article this week published in a conservative Novus Ordo publication pointing out Francis's big show of motioning for a room full of prelates to sit down as he entered the room. The article described this as "very telling", going to suggest that " someone needs to inform His Holiness: “They're not standing up for you, Holiness; they're standing out of respect for your august office.”  Does this man know the difference?  On the other hand," continues the author, "I'm left with the distinct impression that if his subordinates had not risen at his entrance, Francis would have been the first to read them the riot act. It's the "Oh, no, no. Please. I'm humble" moment that this pope seems to really enjoy." 

All these signs of respect and trappings of dignity are an important part of the reverence owed to the Vicar of Christ, which Francis claims to be.  But we must take note that Francis’ contempt for his own office goes well beyond getting rid of superficialities like red shoes and ostrich feathers.  These well publicized displays of humility are not just to make himself look holy.  His ultimate goal is the complete democratization of the Church and the replacement of the papal monarchy with the more collegiate idea that the pope is merely the first among equals.  He fully intends to ensure that the powers of the pope are abolished so that he can herald in a new era for the Church in which the masonic ideal of “Equality” reigns supreme, and the throne of Peter will be reduced to just one more office chair at the discussion table.

We must await the intervention of God to set aside this poor creature and command him to make way for a truly virtuous and worthy successor of Peter.  Until then, we are doomed to watch in silent horror as Francis continues to belittle the office of the papacy to the applause of the multitude, all the while promoting his own personal and completely anti-Catholic agenda with one carefully crafted photo-op after another.  It's frustrating, I know, but that intervention from God will surely come one day, as Christ himself promised that he would not abandon his Church.  In today's bulletin you will find the Prayer of Restoration that our Guild of St. Peter ad Vincula asks all its members, priests and oblates, to recite daily, asking God to commit the government of his Church once more unto a worthy Vicar of his Son.  When we witness the latest prideful offence against God by Pope Francis, we should say this prayer for the Church.  I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunities.  

We must remember that prayer and our own humility are our only weapons in this latest war waged by the devil against God and his Church.  The devil’s henchman may wear a white cassock these days, but it is the same Lucifer who imagines that he can do things better than God, that his beliefs are superior to those taught by the Church for two thousand years.  The same Lucifer who beheld the universe God had created and the redemption he had planned, and, instead of accepting his own role in this plan uttered the fateful words Non serviam—“I will not serve.”  Let our battle cry be that of St. Michael, “Who is like unto God,” and let us be very aware in that battle, that just as Pope Francis is certainly not like unto God, neither are we.  We too are sinful creatures, the only difference being that we have cooperated with the graces God gave us to remain faithful to the true Church.  Without God’s help in the form of the Blessed Sacrament, we would be in the same position as Francis and the rest of our poor brethren in the conciliar Church, no longer able to appreciate the truths of our faith and the beauty of our worship.   

In short, we should know our place.  We have to accept our Lord's call to perfection, not with any idea of exalting ourselves, not with silly notions that our efforts will make us heroes, let alone saints.  Instead let us simply and humbly continue to work for our holy religion as best we can and according to our own state of life.   With the same reluctance shown by St. Pius X, we need to accept our high calling as the cross it is, showing true humility by submitting to the divine will and not our own.

O GOD OF EARTH AND ALTAR

A HYMN FOR THE 15th SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST


O God of earth and altar,
Bow down and hear our cry,
Our earthly rulers falter,
Our people drift and die;
The walls of gold entomb us,
The swords of scorn divide,
Take not thy thunder from us,
But take away our pride.
From all that terror teaches,
From lies of tongue and pen,
From all the easy speeches
That comfort cruel men,
From sale and profanation
Of honour and the sword,
From sleep and from damnation,
Deliver us, good Lord!
Tie in a living tether
The prince and priest and thrall,
Bind all our lives together,
Smite us and save us all;
In ire and exultation
Aflame with faith, and free,
Lift up a living nation,
A single sword to thee.
 

By G.K. Chesterton, 1906