The parish of Heiligenkreuz includes not only Heiligenkreuz itself, but also the villages of Grub and Siegenfeld. Both Grub and Siegenfeld have little churches, called Filialkirchen, or chapels-of-ease, where Mass is said on Sundays. I’ve just been named rector of the one in Siegenfeld— in addition to my duties as vice-rector of the Leopoldinum. The church of St. Ulrich in Siegenfeld is a lovely little church with a Baroque altar at which mass is— of course— clebrated ad orientem.
Maria Bustillos, an editor at Popula.com, whom I know through our common interest in David Foster Wallace, asked me to write something on what it is like to celebrate Mass. I did so, and of course writing about what it’s like to celebrate Mass led me to write a bit about what the Mass is, and therefore what the Gospel is, and then (given that it has been on my mind), to some reflections on the latest chapter of the abuse scandal in the Church. Here’s how my article begins:
I come from a very devout Catholic family, and when I was growing up we went to Mass every day—not just on Sundays. When I was very small Mass was just boring. I fidgeted, day-dreamed, tied the ribbons of the hymnals together, teased my sister, and generally made a nuisance of myself. But then, when I was about 13, I started to serve as an altar boy. The priest whom I served was named Don Reto. He was chaplain at the theological college where my parents taught (both of my parents are Catholic theology professors). Don Reto is one of the best people I have ever met. He changed my life. When he celebrated Mass, it was clear that he believed in it with every fiber of his being. He was full of awe and reverence, a holy fear. Watching him I began to see why we call the Mass “the Sacred Mysteries” and “the Holy Sacrifice.” Not that I could have explained what those words meant at the time. But it was clear to me that Don Reto had found something in the Mass to which it was worth devoting his whole life. Continue reading at Popula…
Today is the Feast of the Crown of Thorns in Heiligenkreuz. The Feast commemorates the solemn translation of the Crown of Thorns to Paris under St. Louis IX. St. Louis gave one thorn to the Babenberg Duke Frederick the Quarrelsome of Austria, who gave it to Heiligenkreuz. Today it is exposed on the altar. There’s a medieval painting of the Sacred Head, crowned with thorns, in a niche our Church that was probably where the reliquary used to be kept. (Now it is kept in the neo-Gothic Sacrament altar).
Over at Church Life Journal I have a post up on prayer.
By two wings is man lifted above earthly things, even by simplicity and purity. Simplicity ought to be in the intention, purity in the affection. Simplicity reacheth towards God, purity apprehendeth Him and tasteth Him. No good action will be distasteful to thee if thou be free within from inordinate affection. If thou reachest after and seekest, nothing but the will of God and the benefit of thy neighbour, thou wilt entirely enjoy inward liberty. If thine heart were right, then should every creature be a mirror of life and a book of holy doctrine. There is no creature so small and vile but that it showeth us the goodness of God. (The Imitation of Christ, II,4).
The doors were shut, but Jesus came and stood among them, and said, “Peace be with you.” (John 20:26)
The Risen Lord shows a remarkable freedom with respect to earthly things. Not only is he entirely free from all weakness and suffering, but not even locked doors are no barrier to him, His body is full of intese and perfect life, and everything is easy to Him. Having conquered sin and death He has won for Himself the perfect peace of victory. Continue reading