Cacciaguida

Defending the 12th century since the 14th; blogging since the 21st.

Catholicism, Conservatism, the Middle Ages, Opera, and Historical and Literary Objets d'Art blogged by a suburban dad who teaches law and writes stuff.


"Very fun." -- J. Bottum, Editor, FIRST THINGS

"Too modest" -- Elinor Dashwood

"Perhaps the wisest man on the Web" -- Henry Dieterich

"Hat tip: me (but really Cacciaguida)" -- Diana Feygin, Editor, THE YALE FREE PRESS

"You are my sire. You give me confidence to speak. You raise my heart so high that I am no more I." -- Dante

"Fabulous!"-- Warlock D.J. Prod of Didsbury

Who was Cacciaguida? See Dante's PARADISO, Cantos XV, XVI, & XVII.


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Thursday, October 31, 2002
 
"We will bury you" revisited: Little Green Footballs on interment of Chechen terrorists in Moscow.




 
Pejmanpundit digs up a great Mondale quote.







 
Looks like Britain's Conservative Party is circling the firing squad around party leader (and RC) Iain Duncan Smith. Click here, here, and here (last contains Lady Thatcher's advice to leader: have convictions and stand by them).

This story amusingly handicaps the alternative Tory leadership contenders.

Speaking of Thatcher, there don't seem to be any leadership candidates like her on the horizon. But Thatcherite and Catholic-convert Ann Widdecombe remains, according to the BBC, "hugely popular with the Tory grassroots."




 
Headline caught in passing on the website of London's Daily Torygraph -- er, that is, Telegraph -- under "UK News": "30,000 year old rhino found."

So, they've been sending reporters around to the clubs again!




Monday, October 28, 2002
 
Hmm... Turns out there are even more problems than I thought with the ICEL translation of the Creed. Read what Tenebrae has to say about it, and thanks to Eve for the link.

("ICEL" = International Conspiracy against the English Language. Just kidding. Or not.)




 
World Series, Day After Game Seven

YESSSSS! (See post just below.)




Saturday, October 26, 2002
 
World Series, Just After Game Six

I want to get a few things blogged out right after the Anaheim Angels' come-back from a 5-0 deficit to beat the San Francisco Giants 6-5 in the sixth game, which would have been the last game if the Giants had held on to win.

I have a general bias in favor of the National League, but each passing World Series game this year has contributed to overcoming that presumption.

Why?

* The Giants once left New York. Baseball teams shouldn't leave New York. It makes us New Yorkers angry. I say this even though if I were transplanted back to the days when the Giants were still at Manhattan's Polo Grounds, I'd be rooting against them and for the Brooklyn Dodgers.

* The color black doesn't belong in any prominent place in a baseball uniform. Red and white uniforms, on the contrary, are pleasant to behold.

* The fact that several Giants stars, including their admirable manager, are openly seeking alternative employment even as they play a World Series -- that's just too Yankee-esque for me.

* Barry Bonds is a spoiled prima donna.

* I love come-from-behind teams, and the Angels are that -- not unlike the Mets in '86.

So this National League fan is totally pumped by the Angels' improbable victory tonight, and I'll be rooting for them tomorrow night.




Wednesday, October 23, 2002
 
Can't Swallow That About Capistrano: a wimp homily about a real-man saint

All right, I'm now seriously annoyed at the peacy-weacys, and I'm going to get a few things off my chest.

"When the swallows come back to Capistrano," Bugs Bunny used to sing in his bath. Well, today is the Feast of St. John Capistrano, the Fighting Franciscan of the Battle of Belgrade, and I'm ticked -- not by St. John, but by what is being offered to priests who want to preach about him.

I went to the (usually wonderful) website Catholic Exchange and looked up today's saint. Among many other interesting facts, the bio page told us that John played a role in inspiring the Hungarian troops to fight back against the Turkish invasion of the Balkans. Christian armies won the Battle of Belgrade, and thanks are due in no small part to John's preaching.

But that's not what the suggested homiletic material on John says. Click on "Lessons" on the bio page, and you get another page, this time with suggestions for homilies about St. John C. (It's unclear whether these homiletic themes are drafted by the Catholic Exchange staff, or by that of the USCCB. I continue to admire and strongly recommend Catholic Exchange.)

And what were these homitetic themes about St. John Capistrano?

Importance of early life experiences. John's pre-Franciscan career as a lawyer prepared him for his work as a Franciscan. (Not clear exactly how. He didn't win the Battle of Belgrade by suing the Turks. But the message is a good fit with the American cult of perpetual possibility: whatever you've done in the past is always, potentially, just preparation for the future.)

And...

2. Though the Church teaches the "just war" theory, and though John preached it to the Hungarians, nonetheless "the message of the Gospel" is "peace and reconciliation." So John was wrong to preach resistance to the Turks? A pew-dweller hearing a homily based on these suggestions would probably think so.

Does absolutely every saint have to be put through the peace-and-justice de-flavorizer? We know that Christ wills peace and reconciliation. We know it thoroughly, because some of us haven't heard anything else from the pulpit in years. Some sort of cross (pardon the "negative" expression) between a social worker and a UN Secretary General -- that's Him, and that's what all His saints have to be, according to the people who write the homilies we hear.

Couldn't we just once hear that so-and-so helped God's people defend themselves militarily against infidel domination, and that it's in part because of that that he's a saint?

Or does St. John Capistrano have to be forever a swallow-sanctuary hymned by a scwewy wabbit?

And while we're at it, those Vatican officials, up to and including Cardinal Ratzinger, who've been opining that the liceity of war with Iraq depends critically and particularly on the United Nations -- not the international community in general, but UN institutions in particular -- can stop whenever they like as far as I'm concerned. I mean, don't keep doing it just to please me.

(Just so there's no misunderstanding, I note that I'm a member of the Cardinal Ratzinger Fan Club. I've got my coffee mug and everything. Our motto: "Putting the smackdown on heresy since 1981.")




Tuesday, October 22, 2002
 
Il duolo della terra
Nel chiostro ancor c’insegue;
Del core sol la guerra
In ciel si calmerà.


The sorrow of earth
Follows us into the cloister;
The strife of the heart
Is calmed only in Heaven.


-- the ghost of Emperor Charles V,
disguised as a monk,
in Verdi’s Don Carlo




 
MSNBC has put the "hate" tag on a blog called Little Green Footballs, for being too anti-Islamic. LGF is henceforth in my blogroll. Maybe host Charles Johnson can tell me how to get noticed by MSNBC.

Our Lady of the Rosary -- victorious at Lepanto -- pray for us.




 
Islamism is bustin' out all over, says Daniel Pipes in The New York Post.




 

So the end of the world may be fiery after all, not icy.
Dies irae and all that.




Thursday, October 17, 2002
 
Cardinal Newman

I've added a website on the Ven. Cardinal Newman to my links. Certain of his works -- the Essay on Development even more than the Apologia -- were crucial points along my journey. Let's pray for his beatification and canonization.




Wednesday, October 16, 2002
 
Encyclical on the Rosary

Click here for the Holy Father's encyclical on the Rosary, Rosarium Virginis Mariae, released this morning.

While media attention will naturally focus on the passage suggesting (for that is all the Holy Father is doing here) the addition of five "new" mysteries marking the highlights Our Lord's public life, the encyclical as a whole has much to say about the Rosary as a road to contemplation, and about each of the fifteen "traditional" mysteries as well.

Discussion will probably focus on this passage:


A proposed addition to the traditional pattern

19. Of the many mysteries of Christ's life, only a few are indicated by the Rosary in the form that has become generally established with the seal of the Church's approval. The selection was determined by the origin of the prayer, which was based on the number 150, the number of the Psalms in the Psalter.

I believe, however, that to bring out fully the Christological depth of the Rosary it would be suitable to make an addition to the traditional pattern which, while left to the freedom of individuals and communities, could broaden it to include the mysteries of Christ's public ministry between his Baptism and his Passion. In the course of those mysteries we contemplate important aspects of the person of Christ as the definitive revelation of God. Declared the beloved Son of the Father at the Baptism in the Jordan, Christ is the one who announces the coming of the Kingdom, bears witness to it in his works and proclaims its demands. It is during the years of his public ministry that the mystery of Christ is most evidently a mystery of light: "While I am in the world, I am the light of the world" (Jn 9:5).

Consequently, for the Rosary to become more fully a "compendium of the Gospel", it is fitting to add, following reflection on the Incarnation and the hidden life of Christ (the joyful mysteries) and before focusing on the sufferings of his Passion (the sorrowful mysteries) and the triumph of his Resurrection (the glorious mysteries), a meditation on certain particularly significant moments in his public ministry (the mysteries of light). This addition of these new mysteries, without prejudice to any essential aspect of the prayer's traditional format, is meant to give it fresh life and to enkindle renewed interest in the Rosary's place within Christian spirituality as a true doorway to the depths of the Heart of Christ, ocean of joy and of light, of suffering and of glory.


The Joyful Mysteries
[omitted here -- go read it yourself!]

The Mysteries of Light

21. Moving on from the infancy and the hidden life in Nazareth to the public life of Jesus, our contemplation brings us to those mysteries which may be called in a special way "mysteries of light". Certainly the whole mystery of Christ is a mystery of light. He is the "light of the world" (Jn 8:12). Yet this truth emerges in a special way during the years of his public life, when he proclaims the Gospel of the Kingdom. In proposing to the Christian community five significant moments – "luminous" mysteries – during this phase of Christ's life, I think that the following can be fittingly singled out: (1) his Baptism in the Jordan, (2) his self-manifestation at the wedding of Cana, (3) his proclamation of the Kingdom of God, with his call to conversion, (4) his Transfiguration, and finally, (5) his institution of the Eucharist, as the sacramental expression of the Paschal Mystery.

Each of these mysteries is a revelation of the Kingdom now present in the very person of Jesus. The Baptism in the Jordan is first of all a mystery of light. Here, as Christ descends into the waters, the innocent one who became "sin" for our sake (cf. 2Cor 5:21), the heavens open wide and the voice of the Father declares him the beloved Son (cf. Mt 3:17 and parallels), while the Spirit descends on him to invest him with the mission which he is to carry out. Another mystery of light is the first of the signs, given at Cana (cf. Jn 2:1- 12), when Christ changes water into wine and opens the hearts of the disciples to faith, thanks to the intervention of Mary, the first among believers. Another mystery of light is the preaching by which Jesus proclaims the coming of the Kingdom of God, calls to conversion (cf. Mk 1:15) and forgives the sins of all who draw near to him in humble trust (cf. Mk 2:3-13; Lk 7:47- 48): the inauguration of that ministry of mercy which he continues to exercise until the end of the world, particularly through the Sacrament of Reconciliation which he has entrusted to his Church (cf. Jn 20:22-23). The mystery of light par excellence is the Transfiguration, traditionally believed to have taken place on Mount Tabor. The glory of the Godhead shines forth from the face of Christ as the Father commands the astonished Apostles to "listen to him" (cf. Lk 9:35 and parallels) and to prepare to experience with him the agony of the Passion, so as to come with him to the joy of the Resurrection and a life transfigured by the Holy Spirit. A final mystery of light is the institution of the Eucharist, in which Christ offers his body and blood as food under the signs of bread and wine, and testifies "to the end" his love for humanity (Jn 13:1), for whose salvation he will offer himself in sacrifice.

In these mysteries, apart from the miracle at Cana, the presence of Mary remains in the background. The Gospels make only the briefest reference to her occasional presence at one moment or other during the preaching of Jesus (cf. Mk 3:31-5; Jn 2:12), and they give no indication that she was present at the Last Supper and the institution of the Eucharist. Yet the role she assumed at Cana in some way accompanies Christ throughout his ministry. The revelation made directly by the Father at the Baptism in the Jordan and echoed by John the Baptist is placed upon Mary's lips at Cana, and it becomes the great maternal counsel which Mary addresses to the Church of every age: "Do whatever he tells you" (Jn 2:5). This counsel is a fitting introduction to the words and signs of Christ's public ministry and it forms the Marian foundation of all the "mysteries of light".







Tuesday, October 15, 2002
 
By the way, the neighborhood around St. Peter's is full of tchatchke shops: here's one of the better ones.




 
More about Rome '02: the sound of 400,000 being silent

First, I will claim that there were 400,000 people present at the Escriva canonization. Here's how I figure:

1. All agree that there were 300,000 at the beatification (May, 1992), yet:

2. Overhead photos of that event show that the spill-over from St. Peter's Square extended only about 2/3 of the way down the Via della Conciliazione -- impressive enough, to be sure, but:

3. From personal observation, and from accounts in the secular Italian press, the crowds at the canonization extended the entire length of the Via della Conciliazione, and then spilled out along the Lungotevere (the street running alongside the Tiber) in both directions: south, toward Trastevere, and north, up to and including the grounds of the Castel Sant'Angelo. Hence:

400,000 is a conservative estimate.

Now, this crowd of (at least) 400,000 was a very reverent one. At both of the major outdoor Masses (the canonization itself on Sunday, Oct. 6, and the Mass of thanksgiving the next day), the entire crowd knelt on the cobblestones for the Canon of the Mass, and during the consecration itself, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop anywhere on the west side of the Tiber.

Have you ever "heard" 400,000 people in concentrated silent devotion? It's not "silence" in the literal sense. Sounds indeed there were: mostly the breezes of a sunny Roman fall day. If John 3:8 flitted through the minds of some of us, I hope we can be acquitted of the charge of excessive enthusiasm, but if not, we'll have to risk it anyway.




Friday, October 11, 2002
 
Escriva canonization: "This means you!"

I'm back. Being in Rome was wonderful, but it's also good to be back in the blogger's box.

Of course I was there for the canonization of St. Josemaria Escriva, founder of Opus Dei.

Some photos here. I and mine were on the left-hand side (as you face St. Peter's) of the Bernini colonnade. (Not that you can see us in any of these....)

For reflections on this event from other pulpits at St. Blog's, drop in on the Old Oligarch, Pete Vere, Karl Schudt, and Bill Cork. Many thanks to each of you!

Cacciaguida and two of his sons were three among half a million, gathered in front of the Holy Father at the capital of the Church, to acclaim as a saint someone who has given millions of lay people and diocesan priests (not just the members of the prelature that he founded) workable game-plans to becoming saints.

The homilies, and also the more sympathetic write-ups in the Italian press, were fall of talk about this "modern saint," this "saint for today." I think this rhetoric is accurate, but it needs further cashing out, which I'll attempt here as briefly as I can.

There was a radical element in the teaching of this so-called "conservative" saint. That element was not the mere proposition that lay people could be saints. St. Francis de Sales, among many others, taught this too. There was no shortage, pre-Opus Dei, of Catholic teaching to the effect the laymen could be saints despite their involvement in the world, by layering on a devotional life alongside their secular duties.

But the rub lies in those words "despite" and "alongside." St. Josemaria took the cause of lay sanctity one crucial step further: it's not "despite" our involvement in the world that we laymen can be saints, and we don't merely add a spiritual layer to our esse as one might put on a hat.

Rather, the realities of secular life are the very theatre of our spiritual struggle and the very things we have to sanctify. And far from being a mere layer, our interior lives should become integrated with the "rest" of our lives as seamlessly as possible.

I'm not going to go on trying to explain this, because that is done much better in St. Josemaria's written works. I'll only add one thought.

Much of the history of Catholic laymen (and of course of non-Catholics as well, but that's not what I'm talking about today) is a pretty sad display of failure to live up to the demands of the Christian life. The same can be said for much of the clergy as well, but in the case of laypeople, spiritual negligence is underwritten by an erroneous "division of labor" that was never taught by the Church, yet crept somewhat into her practice. I refer to the assumption that living Christianity seriously, in all its ramifications, is the business of the "professional" Christians: the priests, the monks, the nuns, etc., and maybe a few scattered laymen who serve God by acting weird (or act weird by serving God). Lay people, according to this view, are just amateurs, and have no need to live up to "professional" standards.

St. Josemaria came to blow away this false division of labor. The difference between priests and religious, on one hand, and lay people on the other, is real, he taught, and it has its importance -- but it is not transparent for the distinction between first- and second-rate sanctity. There is only one Christian sanctity -- the first-rate kind -- and all Christians are called to it, though in different ways.

St. Josemaria's life achievement consisted, I would say, of two things: he spread the above-summarized message by precept and example, and he founded an institution of and within the Church to instantiate this message and to offer to those who desire it (whether they become members or not) practical help in living it out.

Thus, my personal three-word summary of St. Josemaria's contribution to Catholic teaching: "This means you!" That is, you and I, if we are Catholics, are neither barred from walking the royal road of sanctity, nor exempt from that road's requirements.

To be in St. Peter's Square this past October 6 and 7 (the canonization Mass was on Sunday the 6th; on Monday the 7th, the Feast of Our Lady of the Rosary, we had a Mass of thanksgiving) was to sense the Holy Father's optimism -- despite obvious difficulties -- about St. Josemaria's message as an element of the new evangelization.





Thursday, October 03, 2002
 
Two quick items while my plane to Rome revs up....

1. Much-needed changes coming at my beloved but last-place New York Mets. See Greg for independent commentary.

2. In my post of yesterday about a Vatican "re-shuffle," I identified Cardinal Arinze as a "convert from Nigeria." Re-reading this, I feel a need to clarify. Francis Arinze is from Nigeria, and while growing up there, at age nine, converted to Catholicism. (I'm not sure what his family's religion was, but both his parents converted to Catholicism some after their son.) The Cardinal has not converted from Nigerian-ness, and is still, as far as I know, proudly Nigerian. (And wouldn't that make him an interesting Pope...!)




Wednesday, October 02, 2002
 
"To Rome? To Rome!"
-- Wagner, TANNHAUSER, Act III


I'm off to Rome tomorrow -- but already things are happening there.

Francis Cardinal Arinze, a convert from Nigeria and a favorite papabile of the sound-and-orthdox, has been given a big boost by the Holy Father, who has promoted him to the presidency of the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Sacraments. Read about the "re-shuffle" here and here. Read an Arinze bio-profile here.

Another s-and-o papabile, Dionigi Cardinal Tettamanzi, was recently the Holy Father's surprise choice for Archbishop of Milan. Tettamanzi was already Archbishop of Genoa, and a cardinal; cardinals are not often moved from one see to another. Oh, and did I mention that two popes of the 20th century (Pius XI and Paul VI) were Archbishop of Milan at the time they were called to higher office?

And why am I going to Rome this week? Because of this, and also to annoy Ken Woodward.

Sigh -- all this newspaper gossip about power and lobbying. Well, no one has asked me who should be the next Pope -- I just blog!