Do any of you remember Rogation Days? They traditionally took place on the three days preceeding the Ascension. They were days of prayer and fasting for the blessing of a good harvest. I grew up in a farming community, so these days had spevial meaning in our parish.
I always thought "rogation" was Latin for "rotation," as in crop rotation, since the days came early in the growing season. "Rogation" reminded the farmer it was beans this year, not squash or whatever. All wrong. It is from Latin, but "to ask" God for mercy. It does derive from a Roman crop festival. And now that I know that, Watson, I shall attempt to forget it.
In other research this week, I discovered that no one knows when or where the Ascension happened. Mathew said Galilee. Mark didn't say, although he said Jesus interrupted the Apostles's meal to chew them out one last time. (If Mark weren't canonical, he would be in trouble for always dishing on the Apostles.) Luke says Bethany in his Gospel but implies Jerusalem in Acts. And John seems to put it in Jerusalem some time between when Jesus told Mary Magdelene not to touch him because he hadn't ascended and when he told Thomas to go ahead and touch him. If he wasn't putting Mary on, He must have ascended between those meetings.
All of which made putting the feast 40 days after Easter somewhat arbitrary before most of the bishops moved it.
It would appear that the author of the Gospel According to Mark is not the author of the resurrection account appended to that Gospel. The New American Bible says the following of Mark 16:9-20:
"This passage, termed the Longer Ending to the Marcan gospel by comparison with a much briefer conclusion found in some less important manuscripts, has traditionally been accepted as a canonical part of the gospel and was defined as such by the Council of Trent. Early citations of it by the Fathers indicate that it was composed by the second century, although vocabulary and style indicate that it was written by someone other than Mark. It is a general resume of the material concerning the appearances of the risen Jesus, reflecting, in particular, traditions found in Lk 24 and Jn 20."
Right. And whoever added the Longer Ending followed Mark because at verse 4 Jesus "appeared to them and rebuked them for their unbelief and hardness of heart because they had not believed those who saw him [presumably the women] after he had been raised." I tell you, Francis may think Vigano is a pest, but Peter had Mark nattering on and on.
Tom, you wouldn't be thinking of Vigano's latest stunt, would you? Massimo Faggioli writes about it in the latest C'weal, in an article entitled Vigano and the Virus. The man and his companions are certainly tiresome.
Katherine, Fox has its own version of Vigano's "insight," bu the humble archbishop seems to have begun by climbing into bed with the evangelicals who always said the pope was the scarlet whore of Babylon. I guess once he agreed with them on that, the rest followed.
Tom, LOL! Jim, about the Ascension narratives, it was essential to include the eyewitness accounts that Jesus went up, and that he said why he was leaving (in his physical body). Otherwise we'd have had 2000 years of "Elvis sightings".
Jim Pauwels: "In case anyone is feeling a little quivery of faith, let me just add: whoever wrote the passage, it's canonical."
Did you even read past my first sentence? The quote I reproduced from the NAB says, "This passage . . . has traditionally been accepted as a canonical part of the gospel and was defined as such by the Council of Trent."
Must confess to having never paid much attention to Ascension Thursday while a Catholic. Or since I moved on either. But the daily meditation from Washington National Cathedral yesterday did open my mind a bit to paying more attention to this day, and a different way to look at it than I had previously experienced.
Today the Church celebrates Ascension Day, which The Book of Common Prayer considers a Principal Feast, equal in importance to Easter Day and Christmas. That might surprise you, especially given that our celebration of this feast usually pales in comparison to those other great days. So what makes Ascension Day so important?
The account of the Ascension, told both at the end of Luke and the beginning of Acts, helps answer that question. Luke tells us that after gathering his disciples together Jesus opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, blessed them, and then withdrew into heaven. It seems that it should have been a moment of sadness. Jesus has left, after all. But the Scripture tells us that Jesus’ disciples were filled with joy and were continually in the temple blessing God. For the disciples the Ascension marked a significant change, but it was not a change to lament but celebrate. In his Ascension Jesus became not less but more available. As a collect from the Prayer Book says, Jesus ‘ascended far above all heavens that he might fill all things.’ Jesus is not confined to a specific place or a specific time. His presence and love is available to all.
In a time of such suffering and pain, there seems to be little cause for celebration. Yet today we are invited to celebrate, even if it seems foolish to do so and even if we don’t feel especially joyful. The rhythm of the Church year invites us to connect with something that transcends our current realities and reminds us that we live in God’s time. So today I pray that you will celebrate, even for a moment, that Jesus is present with us and will never leave us. Perhaps the words of a beloved hymn for this day, which you see below, can be a helpful start. As we celebrate I pray that the joy of the disciples might be ours as well.
Hail the day that sees him rise, Alleluia! glorious to his native skies; Alleluia! Christ awhile to mortals given, Alleluia! enters now the highest heaven! Alleluia!
Lord beyond our mortal sight, Alleluia! raise our hearts to reach thy height, Alleluia! there thy face unclouded see, Alleluia! find our heaven of heavens in thee. Alleluia!
Thanks for the words to the hymn, Anne. It is the one in the youtube link in the post. The tune is Llanfair. I always liked it. I think the Ascension had to be joyous for Jesus, after his earthly sojourn, to be in heaven.
Not to derail the topic, but since we are on theological matters: Good article about the "infernalists" in the latest CWL. Our old priest used to tell us that "nobody is in Hell who doesn't want to be there." (To which The Boy responded, "Then why do we have to go to Church?" See also Mollie Wilson O'Reilly's odd essay about shortening homilies so she doesn't have to put up with her squirmy kids as much. I got two words for Catholics: Sunday School.)
I certainly think there is a certain logic to the notion that our God, who is omnipotent, all-powerful and all-love, wins everything in the end, even the souls in Hell.
This is not what Protestants teach, of course, though it's what an awful lot of them believe if you press them.
Not to say that there is no need for church, "fire insurance," or that some of us won't be in Hell for quite some time burning off our wickedness. But people burning in Hell for eternity seems like a failure of God in the final analysis.
I'm on board with that school of thought about hell, Jean. I haven't read Mollie Wilson O'Brien's article yet. But my solution to squirmy toddlers in church was that I didn't take them. Of course I was fortunate to have family close by at that time who were willing to sit with them for an hour. Not to mention my husband was sti!l Protestant then, and our church services were at a different time anyway, so we could tag team. Of course that attitude won't get me Catholic mom of the year. But we started taking them regularly about kindergarten age. It didn't turn out too bad because they're still practicing Catholics. Probably in spite of having me for a mom, and not because.
"Not to say that there is no need for church, "fire insurance," or that some of us won't be in Hell for quite some time burning off our wickedness."
The idea of "burning off our wickedness" is an interesting metaphor. The picture it creates in my mind is that we all have a core of goodness, but have become coated in a layer or shell of sinfulness. Who can deny that the coating process reflects our experience of living in this world?
There is a biblical verse (Galatians 3:27) which, in the rite of baptism, is restated, "You have put on Christ"; it is associated with the clothing in the white garment of the one being baptized. Note that the imagery here is the inverse: we are sinful in our "natural", inner state, but we have wrapped ourselves in a cloak of salvation, a mantle of justice. Over at BibleHub, Ellicott's commentary for that verse notes that in the Septuagent, the Greek verb suggests imagery, not properly of clothing oneself, but rather caking oneself, as with mud. You have smeared yourself with Christ (which may actually suggest baptismal oils rather than garment).
The idea that we stay in hell for a time, until our sinfulness is burned off, sounds roughly consonant to me with the traditional Catholic idea of purgatory. Is the purgation a fire that burns away the outer crust of sin, or is it more literally a "purgation" in which we are purged: metaphorically vomiting (or sh*tting) forth the evil which is pent up inside us?
This is just my personal view: most of us cling to the notion that, deep down inside ourselves, we are good and lovable. A few of us cling to the notion that others are the same. I guess traditional Christian doctrine wouldn't agree with that; it would say that, while we would have been like that had there not been a Fall, because of the Fall that original goodness has become stained, marred, twisted. I daresay our life experience shows the truthfulness of that insight as well. I write all this as one who has been smeared with salvation but who, on most days, doesn't feel that it has yet soaked all the way to my innermost core. That is not to say that it is still congealing only on the surface. But I don't think I'm a finished product yet. And the separation between virtue and sinfuless is, for me, pretty fragile and porous on most days.
Jim, I have always thought purgatory was a teaching which made a lot of logical sense. As far as the "fall", I think of it as an allegory for the evolutionary pressure of the survival of the fittest, that brought about some rather ugly characteristics (think aggression, indiscriminate horniness, covetousness, etc.) Sounds like original sin to me. What I don't believe in is original innocence, that we were in some idyllic garden until a serpent tempted us. We were the serpents. And Jesus came to teach us a better way. Which God had been working on sowing the seedd through the OT years. That's just my heterodox two bits worth.
I grew up (or so I'd like to believe!)in a small farming community as well. I remember hearing the priest talking about rogation days, but can't say that I ever knew exactly what they were about. But that was a lonnnnnnnnnnnng time ago, too.
We were always praying for rain (but please, no hail!) Rogation Days beat another old farmer/rancher custom. Kill a rattlesnake and hang it on the fence. That was supposed to bring rain. Don't know where that one came from, it seems sort of pagan. If it rains on a farmer's funeral, it supposedly is a sign that he made it to heaven.
Jean: But people burning in Hell for eternity seems like a failure of God in the final analysis.
Where but here could I say that?
That's what is great about this site. The true believers are here, but we not-so-true believers can say things that would cause most true-believer-Catholics to reach for the smelling salts - a "nice" Catholic site. They are few. On many Catholic sites we would be condemned in no uncertain terms, most likely with more than one four-letter word in the shower of insults that such statements cause on other Catholic sites. Needless to say, I don't frequent most Catholic sites, nor do I read many Protestant sites outside of Episcopalian or Christian Century.
Most Catholics I know com childhood are fairly indulgent with my heresies or even entertain them. They take a long view, that I'll maybe make it to Purgatory where I will get straightened out. Protestants and the folks at the local parish have a pretty either/or mindset. Salvation or damnation. Hell was opened once for the "good Jews," and then it snapped shut. Everyone in there now is boiling in oil and deserves to be for All Eternity.
Ladies, the current cliche in Catholic preaching circles (Jim, correct me if I'm wrong) is "faith journey." The fact that you are here proves you didn't miss the bus. Can I get an Amen?
O Lord, I would like to drive a stake into the heart of the word "journey" like it comes with signposts and Google maps.
Conversion is mostly like having sciatica, good days and bad days. Revelations, epiphanies, doubts, roadblocks, Church Ladies, rules, regulations, obligations. You can do exercises to help control it, but for no reason, it flares up and makes you uncomfortable.
But Jean, all of those things - the doubts, roadblocks, church ladies, good days and bad - are part of the journey. During one 6 year period, I made 4 coast to coast road trips. Sign posts and maps are like RCIA I suppose. Or what it's supposed to be but often is not. Those doubts, those roadblocks still pop up.
Four cross- country journeys. Detours, roads on the map that didn't exist any more. Missing road signs. Good days and days when the tire went flat or the gas gauge is low and the signs says "no services next 40 miles ". In the Utah desert where there is no cell phone signal. But then comes the joy - the magnificence of the desert, the mountains , the red rock and the wonder of the vision for a hundred miles of a creation that could only be the work of a God who is love.
With the exception of the church ladies, your description of conversion describes those journeys - in spite of road signs and maps. My journeys across this country were my personal experiential metaphors for the spiritual journey.
I have been “ preaching” the concept of “faith journey” for many years. Jean’s led her into the RCC. Mine led me out of it after 60 years. The “conservative “ Catholics don’t get this. They think that everyone on the faith journey must be on the identical path - the path of Roman Catholicism. And a whole lot of those on the RC path are suspected of not being “real” Catholics even if on the same RC path.
Roman Catholics like Richard Rohr and Joan Chittister are leading people on the wrong path according to them. Some of them think centering prayer is a tool of the devil. But CP is the only form of prayer that I can’t do without on my particular faith journey. Several here can’t do without Sunday mass.
There are countless paths to God. But not all of them run through Rome.
My struggle with my own notions of many paths for people on their faith journeys is to try not to judge those on the path of evangelical Protestantism. I try to understand that this may be the path they are meant to follow. But mostly I fail at the not-judging them efforts.
To return to my RC roots - a confession. Judging others’ faith journeys (especially evangelical protestants) is the sin I most struggle with. Mea culpa!
One of the things we sort of got rid of after Vat II, without doing much thinking about it, was the lives of the saints. Considering the quality of saints' bios at the time, it was probably a good idea from a literary standpoint, but just because it was so often done poorly doesn't mean good lives of saints can't be written. Some of them were written by the saints themselves. The police record of one of Ignio Loyola's drunk & disorderly arrests rests to this day in a Spanish police station. That's good to know. Someone tell the church ladies.
Do any of you remember Rogation Days? They traditionally took place on the three days preceeding the Ascension. They were days of prayer and fasting for the blessing of a good harvest. I grew up in a farming community, so these days had spevial meaning in our parish.
ReplyDelete"spevial" should be "special".
DeleteI always thought "rogation" was Latin for "rotation," as in crop rotation, since the days came early in the growing season. "Rogation" reminded the farmer it was beans this year, not squash or whatever. All wrong. It is from Latin, but "to ask" God for mercy. It does derive from a Roman crop festival. And now that I know that, Watson, I shall attempt to forget it.
DeleteYes, we had Rogation Days in the Episco-papist Church.
DeleteIn other research this week, I discovered that no one knows when or where the Ascension happened. Mathew said Galilee. Mark didn't say, although he said Jesus interrupted the Apostles's meal to chew them out one last time. (If Mark weren't canonical, he would be in trouble for always dishing on the Apostles.) Luke says Bethany in his Gospel but implies Jerusalem in Acts. And John seems to put it in Jerusalem some time between when Jesus told Mary Magdelene not to touch him because he hadn't ascended and when he told Thomas to go ahead and touch him. If he wasn't putting Mary on, He must have ascended between those meetings.
ReplyDeleteAll of which made putting the feast 40 days after Easter somewhat arbitrary before most of the bishops moved it.
It would appear that the author of the Gospel According to Mark is not the author of the resurrection account appended to that Gospel. The New American Bible says the following of Mark 16:9-20:
Delete"This passage, termed the Longer Ending to the Marcan gospel by comparison with a much briefer conclusion found in some less important manuscripts, has traditionally been accepted as a canonical part of the gospel and was defined as such by the Council of Trent. Early citations of it by the Fathers indicate that it was composed by the second century, although vocabulary and style indicate that it was written by someone other than Mark. It is a general resume of the material concerning the appearances of the risen Jesus, reflecting, in particular, traditions found in Lk 24 and Jn 20."
Right. And whoever added the Longer Ending followed Mark because at verse 4 Jesus "appeared to them and rebuked them for their unbelief and hardness of heart because they had not believed those who saw him [presumably the women] after he had been raised." I tell you, Francis may think Vigano is a pest, but Peter had Mark nattering on and on.
DeleteTom, you wouldn't be thinking of Vigano's latest stunt, would you? Massimo Faggioli writes about it in the latest C'weal, in an article entitled Vigano and the Virus. The man and his companions are certainly tiresome.
Delete"It would appear that the author of the Gospel According to Mark is not the author of the resurrection account appended to that Gospel."
DeleteRight, although, like absolutely every other interpretation of every other biblical passage, that conclusion is disputed.
In case anyone is feeling a little quivery of faith, let me just add: whoever wrote the passage, it's canonical.
Katherine, Fox has its own version of Vigano's "insight," bu the humble archbishop seems to have begun by climbing into bed with the evangelicals who always said the pope was the scarlet whore of Babylon. I guess once he agreed with them on that, the rest followed.
DeleteTom, LOL!
DeleteJim, about the Ascension narratives, it was essential to include the eyewitness accounts that Jesus went up, and that he said why he was leaving (in his physical body). Otherwise we'd have had 2000 years of "Elvis sightings".
Jim Pauwels: "In case anyone is feeling a little quivery of faith, let me just add: whoever wrote the passage, it's canonical."
DeleteDid you even read past my first sentence? The quote I reproduced from the NAB says, "This passage . . . has traditionally been accepted as a canonical part of the gospel and was defined as such by the Council of Trent."
"Did you even read past my first sentence?"
DeleteYes.
Must confess to having never paid much attention to Ascension Thursday while a Catholic. Or since I moved on either. But the daily meditation from Washington National Cathedral yesterday did open my mind a bit to paying more attention to this day, and a different way to look at it than I had previously experienced.
ReplyDeleteToday the Church celebrates Ascension Day, which The Book of Common Prayer considers a Principal Feast, equal in importance to Easter Day and Christmas. That might surprise you, especially given that our celebration of this feast usually pales in comparison to those other great days. So what makes Ascension Day so important?
The account of the Ascension, told both at the end of Luke and the beginning of Acts, helps answer that question. Luke tells us that after gathering his disciples together Jesus opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, blessed them, and then withdrew into heaven. It seems that it should have been a moment of sadness. Jesus has left, after all. But the Scripture tells us that Jesus’ disciples were filled with joy and were continually in the temple blessing God. For the disciples the Ascension marked a significant change, but it was not a change to lament but celebrate. In his Ascension Jesus became not less but more available. As a collect from the Prayer Book says, Jesus ‘ascended far above all heavens that he might fill all things.’ Jesus is not confined to a specific place or a specific time. His presence and love is available to all.
In a time of such suffering and pain, there seems to be little cause for celebration. Yet today we are invited to celebrate, even if it seems foolish to do so and even if we don’t feel especially joyful. The rhythm of the Church year invites us to connect with something that transcends our current realities and reminds us that we live in God’s time. So today I pray that you will celebrate, even for a moment, that Jesus is present with us and will never leave us. Perhaps the words of a beloved hymn for this day, which you see below, can be a helpful start. As we celebrate I pray that the joy of the disciples might be ours as well.
Hail the day that sees him rise, Alleluia!
glorious to his native skies; Alleluia!
Christ awhile to mortals given, Alleluia!
enters now the highest heaven! Alleluia!
Lord beyond our mortal sight, Alleluia!
raise our hearts to reach thy height, Alleluia!
there thy face unclouded see, Alleluia!
find our heaven of heavens in thee. Alleluia!
(Charles Wesley; The Hymnal 1982 214)
The Rev. Patrick Keyser, Priest Associate
Thanks for the words to the hymn, Anne. It is the one in the youtube link in the post. The tune is Llanfair. I always liked it.
DeleteI think the Ascension had to be joyous for Jesus, after his earthly sojourn, to be in heaven.
Not to derail the topic, but since we are on theological matters: Good article about the "infernalists" in the latest CWL. Our old priest used to tell us that "nobody is in Hell who doesn't want to be there." (To which The Boy responded, "Then why do we have to go to Church?" See also Mollie Wilson O'Reilly's odd essay about shortening homilies so she doesn't have to put up with her squirmy kids as much. I got two words for Catholics: Sunday School.)
ReplyDeleteI certainly think there is a certain logic to the notion that our God, who is omnipotent, all-powerful and all-love, wins everything in the end, even the souls in Hell.
This is not what Protestants teach, of course, though it's what an awful lot of them believe if you press them.
Not to say that there is no need for church, "fire insurance," or that some of us won't be in Hell for quite some time burning off our wickedness. But people burning in Hell for eternity seems like a failure of God in the final analysis.
Where but here could I say that?
I'm on board with that school of thought about hell, Jean.
DeleteI haven't read Mollie Wilson O'Brien's article yet. But my solution to squirmy toddlers in church was that I didn't take them. Of course I was fortunate to have family close by at that time who were willing to sit with them for an hour. Not to mention my husband was sti!l Protestant then, and our church services were at a different time anyway, so we could tag team. Of course that attitude won't get me Catholic mom of the year. But we started taking them regularly about kindergarten age. It didn't turn out too bad because they're still practicing Catholics. Probably in spite of having me for a mom, and not because.
"Not to say that there is no need for church, "fire insurance," or that some of us won't be in Hell for quite some time burning off our wickedness."
DeleteThe idea of "burning off our wickedness" is an interesting metaphor. The picture it creates in my mind is that we all have a core of goodness, but have become coated in a layer or shell of sinfulness. Who can deny that the coating process reflects our experience of living in this world?
There is a biblical verse (Galatians 3:27) which, in the rite of baptism, is restated, "You have put on Christ"; it is associated with the clothing in the white garment of the one being baptized. Note that the imagery here is the inverse: we are sinful in our "natural", inner state, but we have wrapped ourselves in a cloak of salvation, a mantle of justice. Over at BibleHub, Ellicott's commentary for that verse notes that in the Septuagent, the Greek verb suggests imagery, not properly of clothing oneself, but rather caking oneself, as with mud. You have smeared yourself with Christ (which may actually suggest baptismal oils rather than garment).
The idea that we stay in hell for a time, until our sinfulness is burned off, sounds roughly consonant to me with the traditional Catholic idea of purgatory. Is the purgation a fire that burns away the outer crust of sin, or is it more literally a "purgation" in which we are purged: metaphorically vomiting (or sh*tting) forth the evil which is pent up inside us?
This is just my personal view: most of us cling to the notion that, deep down inside ourselves, we are good and lovable. A few of us cling to the notion that others are the same. I guess traditional Christian doctrine wouldn't agree with that; it would say that, while we would have been like that had there not been a Fall, because of the Fall that original goodness has become stained, marred, twisted. I daresay our life experience shows the truthfulness of that insight as well. I write all this as one who has been smeared with salvation but who, on most days, doesn't feel that it has yet soaked all the way to my innermost core. That is not to say that it is still congealing only on the surface. But I don't think I'm a finished product yet. And the separation between virtue and sinfuless is, for me, pretty fragile and porous on most days.
Jim, I have always thought purgatory was a teaching which made a lot of logical sense.
DeleteAs far as the "fall", I think of it as an allegory for the evolutionary pressure of the survival of the fittest, that brought about some rather ugly characteristics (think aggression, indiscriminate horniness, covetousness, etc.) Sounds like original sin to me. What I don't believe in is original innocence, that we were in some idyllic garden until a serpent tempted us. We were the serpents. And Jesus came to teach us a better way. Which God had been working on sowing the seedd through the OT years. That's just my heterodox two bits worth.
I grew up (or so I'd like to believe!)in a small farming community as well. I remember hearing the priest talking about rogation days, but can't say that I ever knew exactly what they were about. But that was a lonnnnnnnnnnnng time ago, too.
ReplyDeleteWe were always praying for rain (but please, no hail!)
DeleteRogation Days beat another old farmer/rancher custom. Kill a rattlesnake and hang it on the fence. That was supposed to bring rain. Don't know where that one came from, it seems sort of pagan.
If it rains on a farmer's funeral, it supposedly is a sign that he made it to heaven.
Jean: But people burning in Hell for eternity seems like a failure of God in the final analysis.
ReplyDeleteWhere but here could I say that?
That's what is great about this site. The true believers are here, but we not-so-true believers can say things that would cause most true-believer-Catholics to reach for the smelling salts - a "nice" Catholic site. They are few. On many Catholic sites we would be condemned in no uncertain terms, most likely with more than one four-letter word in the shower of insults that such statements cause on other Catholic sites. Needless to say, I don't frequent most Catholic sites, nor do I read many Protestant sites outside of Episcopalian or Christian Century.
Most Catholics I know com childhood are fairly indulgent with my heresies or even entertain them. They take a long view, that I'll maybe make it to Purgatory where I will get straightened out. Protestants and the folks at the local parish have a pretty either/or mindset. Salvation or damnation. Hell was opened once for the "good Jews," and then it snapped shut. Everyone in there now is boiling in oil and deserves to be for All Eternity.
DeleteLadies, the current cliche in Catholic preaching circles (Jim, correct me if I'm wrong) is "faith journey." The fact that you are here proves you didn't miss the bus. Can I get an Amen?
DeleteO Lord, I would like to drive a stake into the heart of the word "journey" like it comes with signposts and Google maps.
DeleteConversion is mostly like having sciatica, good days and bad days. Revelations, epiphanies, doubts, roadblocks, Church Ladies, rules, regulations, obligations. You can do exercises to help control it, but for no reason, it flares up and makes you uncomfortable.
But Jean, all of those things - the doubts, roadblocks, church ladies, good days and bad - are part of the journey. During one 6 year period, I made 4 coast to coast road trips. Sign posts and maps are like RCIA I suppose. Or what it's supposed to be but often is not. Those doubts, those roadblocks still pop up.
DeleteFour cross- country journeys. Detours, roads on the map that didn't exist any more. Missing road signs. Good days and days when the tire went flat or the gas gauge is low and the signs says "no services next 40 miles ". In the Utah desert where there is no cell phone signal. But then comes the joy - the magnificence of the desert, the mountains , the red rock and the wonder of the vision for a hundred miles of a creation that could only be the work of a God who is love.
With the exception of the church ladies, your description of conversion describes those journeys - in spite of road signs and maps. My journeys across this country were my personal experiential metaphors for the spiritual journey.
I don't want to argue analogies. If you like "journey," great! But don't co-opt mine.
DeleteI promise - if I ever use sciatica as a metaphor for the, hmmm, journey, I will give you full credit .(won’t use it as an analogy either!)
Delete:-)
DeleteI have been “ preaching” the concept of “faith journey” for many years. Jean’s led her into the RCC. Mine led me out of it after 60 years. The “conservative “ Catholics don’t get this. They think that everyone on the faith journey must be on the identical path - the path of Roman Catholicism. And a whole lot of those on the RC path are suspected of not being “real” Catholics even if on the same RC path.
ReplyDeleteRoman Catholics like Richard Rohr and Joan Chittister are leading people on the wrong path according to them. Some of them think centering prayer is a tool of the devil. But CP is the only form of prayer that I can’t do without on my particular faith journey. Several here can’t do without Sunday mass.
There are countless paths to God. But not all of them run through Rome.
My struggle with my own notions of many paths for people on their faith journeys is to try not to judge those on the path of evangelical Protestantism. I try to understand that this may be the path they are meant to follow. But mostly I fail at the not-judging them efforts.
To return to my RC roots - a confession. Judging others’ faith journeys (especially evangelical protestants) is the sin I most struggle with. Mea culpa!
One of the things we sort of got rid of after Vat II, without doing much thinking about it, was the lives of the saints. Considering the quality of saints' bios at the time, it was probably a good idea from a literary standpoint, but just because it was so often done poorly doesn't mean good lives of saints can't be written. Some of them were written by the saints themselves. The police record of one of Ignio Loyola's drunk & disorderly arrests rests to this day in a Spanish police station. That's good to know. Someone tell the church ladies.
Delete