Relationships in America - 1

A new study by the Austin institute for the Study of Family and Culture, entitled Relationships in America, surveys more than 15,000 respondents between the ages of 18 and 60, "To provide a broad overview  of the social forces that shape American society, as well as to document trends that affect individual and familial well-being." It studies American adults' attitudes about religion, sex, marriage, divorce, and related lifestyle subjects. Today I confine myself mainly to reporting what the survey says about religion, leaving further comments for another occasion. (To read the actual report, go to

http://relationshipsinamerica.com/).

The survey reports that nearly 3/4 of Americans report a religious affiliation. Some 65.9% self-identify as Christian - 34% Protestant and 22.2% Catholic. Among Protestants, Evangelicals are the largest group at 8.7% of Americans. The survey subdivides Catholics as "traditional" (5.7%), "moderate" (7.5%), and "liberal" (5.8%). On the other hand, 13.2% identify as "nothing, atheist, agnostic," and 7.6% label themselves "spiritual but not religious." by age, however, 17% of those 18-24 claim to be"nothing, atheist, agnostic,"  as opposed to only 9% of those 55-60, which certainly suggests a generational trend of some significance.

As for actual attendance at church, the study concludes that about 35% of Americans attend church in any given week. (27% report actually attending weekly.) Not surprisingly,Evangelicals and Pentecostals lead Protestants in church attendance. Likewise, "traditional" Catholics at 58% beat "liberal" Catholics at 21% in church attendance. Regionally, church attendance is highest in the South and the "Mountain West," while lowest in New England.

Doctrinally, 37% of those surveyed believe in a bodily resurrection of the dead - 61% of weekly attendees, but only 22% of those who rarely or never attend.

The survey also considered the much debated linkage between religion and happiness and confirmed a correlation between greater levels of church attendance "higher life satisfaction," which offers "tentative evidence that actual integration into a religious support network through attendance at religious services may in part be responsible for the increased happiness observed among religious people."

A few other observations that really stand out include reports that twice as many Catholics may think that cohabitation before marriage is a good idea (including apparently almost half of "traditional" Catholics) and that more Catholics seem supportive of same-sex marriage (or at least "neutral") that not.

Immaculate Mary

On November 10, 1947, cloistered away in rural Kentucky, the famous American Cistercian monk Thomas Merton wrote in his journal: “It seems to me that that definition [the Immaculate Conception] was a turning point in the modern history of the Church.  The world has been put into the hands of our Immaculate Lady and she is our hope in the terrible days we live in.”

When I was in grade school, not that many years after Merton wrote that journal entry, the invocation and response, O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee, were a regular part of our school prayers. Although I dutifully joined in responding pray for us who have recourse to thee, in fact I probably had only the vaguest idea at first what the word recourse really meant. (It's in the nature of public prayers - as with any formal language - to employ fancier vocabulary than ordinary speech.) But, given the very high quality of religious instruction that we still had in those days, my guess is that I probably better understood the meaning of the words Immaculate Conception before I ever completely figured out the word recourse!

Of course, back in 1858, when the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to Bernadette Soubirous in what was then more-or-less a garbage dump in the cold, wet, little town of Lourdes in the Pyrenees Mountains and identified herself with the words, “I am the Immaculate Conception,” poor Bernadette did not recognize the reference or understand the meaning of those words at all. Intellectuals, on the other hand, had been arguing about their meaning for centuries – so much so that in 1497 the University of Paris had decreed that no one should be admitted to the University without first swearing to assert and defend Mary’s Immaculate Conception! (Imagine how different European society might be today if that were still the rule at the Sorbonne!)

Meanwhile, on May 13, 1846, meeting in Baltimore’s Cathedral of the Assumption, the 23 bishops of the United States designated the Blessed Virgin Mary, conceived without sin, as Patroness of the United States. Their choice was approved by Blessed Pope Pius IX less than a year later, on February 7, 1847.

That same Pope, in the Bull Ineffabilis Deus, exactly 160 years ago on December 8, 1854, would then go on to define the dogma of the Immaculate Conception - the Church’s faith that, thanks to the salvation Jesus accomplished on our behalf, Mary was preserved from sin, from the very beginning of her existence, and so was from the very start completely holy. She is, as the English Romantic poet William Wordsworth [1770-1850] had already famously addressed her: “Woman! above all nature glorified, Our tainted nature’s solitary boast.”

Meanwhile, a mere two months after Pius IX’s dogmatic definition, the small, struggling Catholic community in Knoxville, TN, purchased this land on Summit Hill outside the town’s then northern limits intending to build their first parish church here. And, at its dedication later that year, the church was named for the Immaculate Conception.

I know I have told this story before, but it bears repeating. Nearly 30 years ago, I got a phone call one day from someone worried that the Devil was throwing things at him. At first, I felt totally at a loss how to answer. Nothing in my seminary training had, I thought, adequately prepared me for this. As we talked, however, it became obvious to me what the right answer really was – namely, that, in Christ, God has already decisively defeated the Devil. The Devil can fight, but he cannot win. For God is more powerful than anything we can throw at him – or the Devil can throw at us. God is more powerful than sin. And that is what we celebrate in a very special way today on this great festival of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the patronal feast of our historic parish.

The story we just heard from the Old Testament [Genesis 3:9-15, 20] highlights the serious damage done to the entire world by human sin - our alienation simultaneously from God, one another, and the world. Mary’s sinlessness, however, represents the healing effect of God’s far-greater power, empowering Mary to say Yes” to God where Eve had said “No” – God’s powerful plan to save us from ourselves.

The story calls Eve the mother of all the living. In spite of sin, human life continued – the very first sign that God was not going to give up on us. Of course, the serpent still lives and continues his mischief, but his doom is already certain. In the fullness of time, Eve’s greatest descendant, Mary’s Son, will strike at the serpent’s head and crush him.

When Mary appeared to Saint Juan Diego in Mexico in 1531, she spoke in the Aztec language. The Aztec word (which to the Spaniards sounded like an already familiar title, Guadalupe) literally meant “Who crushes the serpent.”

God’s great plan for our salvation, the purpose of the One who accomplishes all things according to the purpose of his will [Ephesians 1:11], the mystery decided upon from all eternity and hidden for so many centuries, has been realized in Mary’s Son, Jesus, and is now revealed in the life and mission of the Church. Mary’s holiness at the very beginning of her earthly life is also the Church’s holiness at its beginning and invites us to look forward to the Church as it will one day be in the perfect holiness of God’s kingdom. Thus, the Church looks to Mary as a model of the Church’s essential mission. As Pope Francis has written: “We implore her maternal intercession that the Church may become a home for many peoples, a mother for all peoples, and that the way may be opened to the birth of a new world. … With Mary we advance confidently toward the fulfillment of this promise, and to her we pray [EG 288].

An American prayer from 1959 fittingly invokes Mary's patronage on our nation:

Most Holy Trinity, we put the United States of America into the hands of Mary Immaculate in order that she may present the country to you. Through her we wish to thank you for the great resources of this land and for the freedom which has been its heritage. Through the intercession of Mary, have mercy on the Catholic Church in America. Grant us peace, Have mercy on our President and on all the officers of our government. Grant us a fruitful economy born of justice and charity. Have mercy on capital and industry and labor. Protect the family life of the nation. Guard the innocence of our children. Grant the precious gift of many religious vocations. Through the intercession of our Mother, have mercy on the sick, the poor, the tempted, sinners - on all who are in need.

Homily for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, December 8, 2014.

Be Eager

This past week, I went to Nashville – my first-ever time there – for the annual meeting of the bishops and priests’ councils of the Louisville Province (that is, the 4 dioceses in Kentucky and the 3 in Tennessee). Like any American city at this time of year, it was all decked out for Christmas. Or, at least I assume it was. Actually, all I saw of the city was the downtown hotel where we were meeting. But that was certainly all bright and beautiful with Christmas trees and lights and other holiday trimmings and touches. It’s that so very special time of year, when the world really brightens up and seems even to cheer up – or at least it tries to.

The stores, of course, have a vested interest in manufacturing holiday cheer as they court the devilish demon called profit. For the rest of us, holiday cheer may come less automatically – depending on what kind of year we’ve had personally and what kind of year it’s been overall for the world. This week, I tried to imagine what it was like preparing for Christmas in Europe back, say, 100 years ago, in 1914, in those traumatic first few months of World War I, the war that pretty much ruined everything for the 20th century. Of course, it wasn’t quite obvious yet that World War I would mean the end of European civilization as people then knew it. But by then it was certainly already obvious that things weren’t going as planned, that things weren’t going so very well for anyone on either side. Still, Christmas came, as it always does in both good times and in bad. Silent Night was sung all over the Western Front – in German, in French, and in English. And soldiers and civilians alike did their best to find comfort where they could.

Times were tough too in Israel – her capital in ruins, her Temple destroyed - when Isaiah spoke the consoling words we just heard. Just when everything seemed so hopeless, the prophet proclaims glad tidings and good news. It’s enough to make you sit up and pay attention. Here comes with power the Lord God. Like a shepherd he feeds his flock. The glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together. Power and glory are good. And when you’re hungry – and we’re all hungry for something – the promise of being fed, as a shepherd feeds his flock, that’s good news indeed!

On this 2nd Sunday of Advent, the good news comes to us in three complementary voices. First comes Isaiah’s prophetic announcement [Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11]. Not for nothing is Isaiah Advent’s pre-eminent prophet. Then comes the actual voice of one crying out in the desert, John the Baptist’s New Testament prophetic fulfillment - calling out to us to elicit our response [Mark 1:1-8]. Sandwiched between them and so easy to overlook, we hear Peter, speaking for the Church, proposing our response [2 Peter 3:8-14].

And like the Israelites in exile and like those early Christians to whom Peter wrote, we wonder what this all means. Both Isaiah and Peter had to respond to the tension – the personal and social stress – of being in-between, of being between the challenging and perplexing present in which we still find ourselves and the promising future for which we have been taught to hope.

If anything, living in the in-between may be even harder for us that in was for those early Christians Peter was addressing. Our contemporary way of life with its ultra-fast pace and information overload is sort of like a collective case of attention-deficit-disorder. Like our ancestors unexpectedly caught up in a catastrophic world war a century ago, we are also a civilization in distress, but we are, if anything, even less able to see our way through, thanks to our technologically induced impatience.

But God is patient - and patient with us - Peter assures us, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance. And so, he asks us to ask ourselves, what sort of persons ought we to be, here and now, in this in-between time, while we wait not just for Christmas morning and the presents we hope to find under our tree, but for that endless Christmas dinner our entire life is a preparation for?

Advent asks more questions than it answers. The answer, of course, is Christmas, which even now has the power to light up the world because Christ came into the world a long time ago. How much brighter will the world be when we respond fully to Advent’s invitation to become Christmas people and recognize Christ’s coming among us in the here and now, living in his Church which continues his presence and action in the world? When the full reality of Christ’s coming finally makes a difference for each one of us. Meanwhile, be eager, as Peter says, to find him - and to be found by him.

Homily for the 2^nd Sunday of Advent, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, December 7, 2014.

St. Nicholas Day

For several years, it was my special task to play Saint Nicholas at the "Winter's Eve" celebration at Midtown Manhattan's St. Paul the Apostle Church. "Winter's Eve," on the first Monday after Thanksgiving, was a local celebration in the Lincoln Center neighborhood on the night of the Tree-lighting at Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. It involved local establishments hosting various events. We had an "open house" in the church with carol-singing, wintry refreshments, etc. At some point, a visit from St. Nicholas became a traditional part of the program at St. Paul's.  I was the first to play St. Nicholas (see photo) and did so until transferred to Knoxville in 2010. (I believe this year's Saint Nicholas is the third person to have played that role after me.)

St. Nicholas still comes in person in parts of Europe - notably the Netherlands, Germany, and Austria - and there are many popular traditions connected with his visit on the eve of his feast, which falls annually on December 6. In December 1981, when I was a Paulist novice in rural northern New Jersey, December 6 fell that year on a Sunday. That morning, we all awoke to find a stocking outside each of our doors, with various personally appropriate items chosen for us by our devoted novice master. 

In 19th-century New York, Clement C. Moore famously re-costumed St. Nicholas into our contemporary Santa Claus.  Santa has since spread all over the world, overshadowing his original persona as the saintly 4th-century Bishop of Myra in Greek Asia Minor (modern Turkey). 

True, today's department-store Santa serves the devilish demon of profit and is thus at best an imperfect intimation of the spirit of Saint Nicholas. Still, some of that spirit survives even in spite of everything. Whether acknowledged or not, Santa's amazingly generous gift-giving each Christmas still celebrates the amazing generosity of God who gave the world the gift of his Son at Christmas and continues to do so for the rest of history in the life of his Church. The real St. Nicholas responded to God's great generosity concretely in his own faithful and holy life of generous love for others in need. And, whether attired as the real bishop he was or as Clement C. Moore comically re-constumed him, he continues to exemplify God's generosity and call us to imitate it.

Christmas Carols

Yesterday, I started playing Christmas carols in my car. Had I driven to the Louisville Province Meeting in Nashville earlier this week all alone, I'm sure that would have been the obvious occasion to start playing my Christmas CDs. As it was, that seemingly interminable trip was humanized (to the extent that driving can ever be humanized) by the presence of two colleagues as my companions. Given a choice between conversation and Christmas carols, clearly I'll choose conversation any day!

That said, I do cherish my Christmas music and look forward to being surrounded by the sounds of the season throughout this wonderful month of December. There is something special about the way the multitude of familiar Christmas carols convey the multiple emotions and sensations of the season so well - its solemnity, its cheer, its generosity, and even its schmaltzy sentimentality. And carols, heard and sung since childhood, have a way of staying with you. Anyone can sing them, and almost everyone does.

Some carols - like Adeste Fideles and Hark, the Herald Angels Sing - proclaim the awesome mystery of the Incarnation exuberantly and triumphantly, while others  - like Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming and  Silent Night - do so softly and meditatively. Some are just fun - like Deck the Halls, Here We Come a Caroling, and The Twelve Days of Christmas. Some never fail to make me weepy - like listening to Judy Garland's rendition of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.

Contemporary efforts to expand the traditional repertoire may merit mixed reviews at best, but some modern compositions have worked amazingly well - for example, Pietro Alessandro Yon's 1917 composition Gesu Bambino. (Brought over from Italy in 1907 to serve as organist at St. Francis Xavier in Manhattan, Yon eventually became organist at New York's St. Patrick's Cathedral. It is always a special treat to hear Gesu Bambino sung there in that beautiful place, accompanied by the Cathedral's grand organ.)

Modern recordings make it possible to hear and love carols from different cultures originating in Christmas customs all over the world, while many of the most familiar and popular carols are sung so widely in so many languages that they are truly universal treasures, irrespective of place of origin. Perhaps the best example of that, of course, is Silent Night. First sung in German in Oberndorf bei Salzburg, Austria, in 1818, it has long since been translated into so many languages and is so universally sung  as to truly belong to the world as a whole. Fittingly, it was Silent Night that the German, French, and English-speaking soldiers all knew in their own languages and so all sang during the famous 1914 "Christmas Truce." (The photo above is of the 1937 chapel built to commemorate the site of the little village church of St. Nicholas where Silent Night was first sung.)