Chair-man of the Board!

Today the universal Church celebrates the feast of the Chair of St. Peter. When I first returned to the Church way back when, I thought this feast sounded really strange. I was okay with celebrating events from the life of Christ, and even with celebrating feasts in honor of special saints. But a chair?

Then I read that ever since the fourth century, the feast of the Chair of St. Peter has been celebrated in Rome as a sign of the unity of the Church founded upon that apostle. Hmmm. There must be more to the story . . .

One thing I learned early on is that the word for “chair” in Latin is cathedra. And so when the Pope teaches authoritatively in the area of faith and morals, he is said to speak “ex cathedra,” or “from the chair,” indicating the binding nature of the teaching on the Christian faithful.

And because cathedra literally refers to the established seat of the bishop, the “mother church” of a diocese that contains this seat is known as a “cathedral.” The chair or seat of a bishop symbolizes his authority as a successor of the apostles, and in a special way it symbolizes his “magisterium” or teaching office, in that he called to guard and proclaim the deposit of faith for the benefit of the local Church.

As Pope Benedict teaches, “When the bishop takes possession of the local Church that is entrusted to him, he, bearing the miter and the shepherd’s crosier, sits on the cathedra. From that seat he will guide, as teacher and shepherd, the journey of the faithful in faith, hope and charity.”

The first “seat” of the Church was the Upper Room where, in all probability, there was a special place reserved for Simon Peter as they awaited the outpouring of the Holy Spirit (see Acts 1:13-15).

From there the “seat” of Peter moved to Antioch, the city where “for the first time the disciples were called Christians” (Acts 11:26), as Peter became that community’s first bishop.

From there, providence led Peter to Rome, where his service to the Gospel was crowned with martyrdom.

In this way, Rome came to be known as the “See” of the successor of Peter and the home of the Pope’s “cathedra,” which represents the mission entrusted to him by Christ to shepherd His entire flock. Incidentally, the Pope’s cathedral church as Bishop of Rome is not St. Peter’s, but St. John Lateran Basilica in Rome, identified as the “Mother and Head” of all the churches in the world.

Rome’s significance as the See of Peter is attested by the most ancient Fathers of the Church. For example, St. Irenaeus, Bishop of Lyons (c. 200 A.D.), described the Church of Rome as “greatest and most ancient, known by all; . . . founded and constituted at Rome by the two glorious Apostles Peter and Paul . . . With this Church, because of her outstanding superiority, the universal Church must be in agreement, that is, the faithful everywhere” (Against Heresies).

In celebrating the “Chair” of Peter we recognize its spiritual significance: It is a special sign of the love of Christ who, as one form of the penitential rite at Mass provides, came to “gather the nations into the peace [and unity] of God’s kingdom.”

During this time of papal transition, let us make our own the words of St. Jerome: “I follow no leader save Christ so I consult the chair of Peter, for this I know is the rock upon which the Church is built!”

Electoral College

The papacy will be vacant at 8 p.m. on February 28, as Pope Benedict’s resignation goes into effect. The conclave in Rome to elect the next Pope must begin within 20 days of his date of resignation.

Over the coming days we will examine difference issues pertaining to this historic election. Today, let’s look at those who, with the special guidance of the Holy Spirit, will elect the next Pope: the college of cardinals.

At the outset, we should note that not all cardinals will participate in the election. Only those cardinals who have not reached their 80th birthday on the day the Pope leaves office may vote for his successor. There are currently 209 cardinals, but only 117 will be eligible to vote in the upcoming conclave. Most of these cardinal-electors–67 of the 117–have been appointed by Pope Benedict himself. According to rules re-established by Pope Benedict in 2007, the conclave must achieve a two-thirds majority to elect the next successor of St. Peter.

At the last conclave, in April 2005, 115 cardinals voted. Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger was elected the Supreme Pontiff on the fourth ballot and selected the name Benedict XVI.

In the upcoming conclave, 10% of the cardinal electors (11 of the 117) are from the United States. Here is a list of the American electors, their age, and their current position:

• Cardinal Raymond L. Burke, 64, Prefect of the Apostolic Signatura at the Vatican (former Bishop of La Crosse and Archbishop of St. Louis
• Cardinal Daniel N. DiNardo, 63, Archbishop of Galveston-Houston (former Bishop of Sioux City, IA)
• Cardinal Timothy M. Dolan, 63, Archbishop of New York (former Auxiliary Bishop of St. Louis and Archbishop of Milwaukee)
• Cardinal Francis E. George, 76, an Oblate of Mary Immaculate, Archbishop of Chicago (for Bishop of Yakima, WA and Archbishop of Portland, OR)
• Cardinal James M. Harvey, 63, Archpriest of the Basilica of Saint Paul Outside-the-Walls in Rome (originally a priest from Milwaukee, for many years served in the papal household)
• Cardinal William J. Levada, 76, Prefect Emeritus of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (former Auxiliary Bishop of Los Angeles and Archbishop of Portland and later San Francisco)
• Cardinal Roger M. Mahony, 76, Archbishop Emeritus of Los Angeles (former Auxiliary Bishop of Fresno and Bishop of Stockton)
• Cardinal Edwin F. O’Brien, 73, Grand Master of the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem (former Archbishop of Military Archdiocese and Baltimore)
• Cardinal Sean P. O’Malley, 68, Archbishop of Boston (former Bishop of Fall River and Palm Beach)
• Cardinal Justin F. Rigali, 77, Archbishop Emeritus of Philadelphia (former Archbishop of St. Louis and Vatican official)
• Cardinal Donald W. Wuerl, 72, Archbishop of Washington (former Auxiliary Bishop of Seattle and Bishop of Pittsburgh)

Living Vicariously

The next document in our series on the documents of the Second Vatican Council is the 1965 Decree on the Pastoral Office of Bishops in the Church (Christus Dominus).

I really appreciate Vatican II’s specifically on the individual bishop. Some Catholics rightly put great emphasis on the Pope’s authority, but then downplay the role of the local bishop. Others affirm the authority of the bishop, but only inasmuch as he is part of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB). In the first view, the bishop is merely the minion of the Pope. In the second view, the bishop is most essentially our representative with the national body. Neither view gives sufficient respect to the authority of the bishop himself.

Against both of these caricatures, Vatican II stresses the role of the individual bishop. While affirming the specific role of the Pope as pastor of the universal Church, Christus Dominus provides that bishops “having been appointed by the Holy Spirit, are successors of the Apostles as pastors of souls. Together with the supreme pontiff and under his authority they are sent to continue throughout the ages the work of Christ, the eternal pastor. Christ gave the Apostles and their successors the command and the power to teach all nations, to hallow men in the truth, and to feed them. Bishops, therefore, have been made true and authentic teachers of the faith, pontiffs, and pastors through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to them” (no. 2, footnotes omitted).

We’re all accustomed to referring to the Pope as the Vicar of Christ. After all, it was Peter who received the keys (cf. Mt. 16:18-19), and as Catholics we recognize the Pope’s role as Christ’s chosen representative to rule and guide the universal Church until the end of time.

But one teaching that sometimes gets overlooked is that the bishops are not simply vicars of the Pope, but vicars of Christ Himself in the particular Church (i.e., diocese) assigned to them. They legitimately exercise their role only in communion with the Pope, but nonetheless they personally exercise their office in the name of Christ as a successor of the apostles. The bishop is neither a mere representative of the Pope nor does he legitimately exercise authority apart from the Pope (see Catechism, nos. 880-96, especially 894-95).

Some may be surprised to know that a number of Popes have even referred to Christian parents as vicars of Christ in the home. For example, Pope Pius XI, in his 1929 encylical Divini Illius Magistri, wrote: “Parents . . . should be careful to make right use of the authority given them by God, whose vicars in a true sense they are.” Of course this truth connects well with Vatican II’s emphasis on the family as the “domestic Church” or “Church in miniature.”

Apostle of the Alleghenies

Today is the feast of St. John Neumann, not to be confused with the recently beatified John Henry Newman. This 19th-century immigrant priest became known as the Apostle of the Alleghenies, and he later became the Bishop of Philadelphia. While most saints lived long ago in far-away places, St. John Neumann is very much part of our own cultural history. This was brought home to me when I lived in Ohio. I belonged to the St. John Neumann Knights of Columbus Council, and in our St. John Neumann adoration chapel, we actually had baptismal and marriage records signed by none other than this holy cleric!

St. John Neumann eventually became a U.S. citizen, and he was the first U.S. bishop to become a saint. Let’s take this opportunity to pray, through the intercession of St. John Neumann, for our own bishops and priests.

More Light to the Nations

Last week, I offered a reflection on the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen Gentium), the central document of the Second Vatican Council (1962-65), which sets forth how the Church is called to bring the light of Christ to the world (cf. Lumen Gentium, no. 1). I focused on the document’s emphasis on the Church as the “People of God,” or “Family of God.”

Before continuing to the next document in this “Year of Faith” series on the sixteen documents of Vatican II, I thought I would point out some additional significant teachings from Lumen Gentium, which is incredibly packed with beautiful teaching on the nature and mission of the Church. I limited myself to a “top ten list” of other teachings found in that document that I have found to be especially significant. I’ve obviously omitted many topics, but I hope this approach nonetheless gives readers some helpful “snapshots.” I have chosen to let the quotes speak for themselves rather than “spin” them through the use of commentary.

 (1) Church as sacrament of our “family unity” with God and with one another (no. 1)

“Since the Church is in Christ like a sacrament or as a sign and instrument both of a very closely knit union with God and of the unity of the whole human race, it desires now to unfold more fully to the faithful of the Church and to the whole world its own inner nature and universal mission.”

(2) The Catholic Church is “not just another Christian denomination” (no. 8)

“This is the one Church of Christ which in the Creed is professed as one, holy, catholic and apostolic, which our Savior, after His Resurrection, commissioned Peter to shepherd, and him and the other apostles to extend and direct with authority, which He erected for all ages as ‘the pillar and mainstay of the truth.’ This Church constituted and organized in the world as a society, subsists in the Catholic Church, which is governed by the successor of Peter and by the Bishops in communion with him, although many elements of sanctification and of truth are found outside of its visible structure. These elements, as gifts belonging to the Church of Christ, are forces impelling toward catholic unity.”

(3) The ordained priesthood is distinct from the priesthood of the laity (no. 10)

“Though they differ from one another in essence and not only in degree, the common priesthood of the faithful and the ministerial or hierarchical priesthood are nonetheless interrelated: each of them in its own special way is a participation in the one priesthood of Christ.”

Follow the Leader

Do any of the following quotes sound familiar?

“It’s my way or the highway!”

“You can’t tell him (or her) anything.”

“I don’t care what anyone else says . . .”

Or even, “Honey, please stop and ask for directions.”

These and many similar comments point to how our stubborn pride keeps us from seeking the input of others–usually to our own detriment. How often we lack the humility to realize that we don’t have all the answers, that we can and must learn from others.

There is a virtue that helps us to overcome this false sense of self-sufficiency. That virtue is docility, which is simply the ability to be taught. Even more, as a Christian virtue, docility is what enables us to be formed in the Catholic faith, to grow as disciples of Christ the Teacher.

Doctor Know

Docility comes from the Latin verb docere, which means “to teach.” From docere we get the word “doctrine”–that which is taught. During the era of “doctrine-free” catechesis (now there’s an oxymoron for you!), Church leaders and parents were rightly concerned that their children weren’t being taught, because teaching presupposes content. What was given to that generation–my generation–of young Catholics was many things (e.g., babysitting, sharing, collage-making), but it wasn’t doctrine.

From docere we also get the word “doctor,” which is another word for “teacher.” In the academic world, the most highly educated teachers earn their “doctorate.” In the Church, we have 34 doctors of the Church, from heavyweight philosophers and theologians such as St. Thomas Aquinas to amazing spiritual guides like St. Teresa of Avila. The members of this select group are held up to the faithful as eminently reliable teachers of Christian doctrine.

And then finally we have the virtue of docility, which refers to our habitual attitude toward “doctors” who teach us “doctrine.” In other words, it’s about how teachable or coachable we are. As we will see, this virtue has specific applicability to our relationship to the Church, which is our Mother and Teacher. But it also applies to our ability to be taught in every sphere of daily living.

Docility is the mean between the extremes of, on the one hand, an excessive, prideful self-reliance, and on the other hand, a passive, cowering submissiveness. It’s about finding and utilizing wisdom wherever it is found. Mother Teresa famously searched for the “hidden Jesus” in everyone, especially the poorest of the poor. I think it’s fair to say that that the docile person searches for the “hidden wisdom” in others. Let’s take a closer look.

The Economy and the Election

This week The Leaven published “The Economy and the Election,”  the fourth in a series of reflections related to the upcoming election, offered by the leaders of the four dioceses in Kansas.

The purpose of this series of articles is not to tell us how to vote or to provide some sort of “voter’s guide.” Rather, as our teachers in the faith, the bishops are helping us to understand our role as Catholics in society, and what that means as we exercise the right and responsibility to vote in the upcoming election. As the most recent reflection makes clear, “The Church’s duty is to articulate principles; it is the duty of the lay faithful in their mission to renew the face of the earth to put those principles into action.”

While I think the document in its entirety is worth reading (it’s not that long, btw), we do well to consider the bishops’ conclusion:

“If the primary criteria in our evaluation of candidates for public office is, ‘Which person will help me get the biggest piece of the pie? (either because of their support for lower taxes or for programs that directly benefit me),’ we are failing to employ the principles of our Catholic social teaching. We end up adopting a politics of self-interest, not stewardship.

“In his 1961 inaugural address, President John F. Kennedy famously posed the question, ‘Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.’ Perhaps we can take this even further. Taking our cue from the saints, ask what you can do for your country, for your state, for your community, for your family. Ask what you can do for the poor and most vulnerable and needy in your midst. How you answer these questions should inform your vote.

“When you think in those terms, you become drawn to the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, which have always been part of our Catholic tradition. You will also become drawn to what Pope Benedict XVI has called the ‘market of gratuitousness,’ a culture governed by human solidarity, not the thirst for acquisition–a culture that looks first to the family, churches and the local community to provide for the needs of the poor and the vulnerable, and a culture that lives to serve and not be served (cf. Mt. 20:28).”

For those wishing to go deeper into the social teaching of the Church in preparation for the upcoming election, I recommend reading the Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, which is generally available at Catholic bookstores, and which can also be viewed online. It is a masterfully summary of the Church’s social teaching as it has developed over the past century. If you read just six or seven paragraphs per day, you will have read the entire volume before the election.

May we truly “think with the Church” and bring the Gospel to bear on the important issues we face in our community and in our world!

Like Noah’s Righteous Sons

The relation of Christ and the Church is often expressed in marital terms. Christ is the Bridegroom; the Church is His Bride. By extension, the bishop (who acts in the person of Christ) and his flock have a spousal, familial relationship. The bishop’s ring symbolizes his “marriage” to the local Church. Moreover, the bishop typically wears a pectoral cross, not a crucifix. There is no corpus on his cross because the bishop himself is to be the corpus, laying down his life for his bride in imitation of our Savior (cf. John 15:13; Eph. 5:25).

Spousal, covenantal relationships do not involve a quid pro quo. My responsibility to be faithful to my marriage covenant is not dependant on my wife’s fidelity. I don’t assess my wife’s performance each day in order to decide whether she deserves my love. Rather, my commitment–and hers–must be total and unconditional.

This principle also applies to our relationship with bishops. And it should be noted that bishops’ obligations are weightier than our own. Yet the bishop may never say, “These people are a pain in the neck and oppose me at every turn; I will not love and serve them.” He will be judged ultimately on his fidelity to Christ played out through the exercise of his episcopal ministry, and not on the fidelity of his flock.

Similarly, we have a duty of docile reverence toward our bishops as our spiritual fathers. This duty flows from the Fourth Commandment.

Of course, we must not accept error, but with patience, fortitude, and charity we must always preserve unity in our pursuit of Christ’s truth.

Taking necessary corrective action with respect to one of our Church leaders is not a cause for rejoicing or something to be publicly proclaimed so that we can take “credit” for being some sort of orthodox gunslinger. Rather, like Noah’s righteous sons who covered their father’s nakedness notwithstanding his drunkenness (cf. Gen. 9:23), we should take appropriate action while remaining very conscious of the harm caused by publicly airing our grievances against our spiritual fathers.

If my own father were to do something untoward, it would be wrong for me to ignore it or to cover it up for him so that he can get away with it again. But it would also be wrong, and indeed a violation of the Fourth Commandment, to treat him as anything less than my father and to lead the charge in publicly disgracing him.

The foregoing is an excerpt from my article entitled “How to Talk to (and about) a Bishop,” which appeared in a past issue of This Rock magazine.

St. Athanasius, Pray for Us!

Today is the feast of St. Athanasius, a fourth-century bishop and doctor of the Church. His titles aptly include “Father of Orthodoxy” and “Pillar of the Church.” He defended the faith of the Church against the Arian heresy, which held that Christ was a created being and therefore not divine.

Our Lord’s divinity was upheld at the ecumenical council of Nicea in 325 A.D.–a council attended by the young Athanasius–but he spent the next 50 years defending the Council’s teaching at great personal cost, including exiles and persecution.

For the Office of Readings for this date, we are given a beautiful excerpt from a discourse by St. Athanasius on the Incarnation of the Word. Here is part of that selection:

The Word of God, incorporeal, incorruptible and immaterial, entered our world. Yet it was not as if he had been remote from it up to that time. For there is no part of the world that was ever without his presence; together with his Father, he continually filled all things and places.

Out of his loving kindness for us he came to us, and we see this in the way he revealed himself openly to us. Taking pity on mankind’s weakness, and moved by our corruption, he could not stand aside and see death have the mastery over us; he did not want creation to perish and his Father’s work in fashioning man to be in vain. He therefore took to himself a body, no different from our own, for he did not wish simply to be in a body or only to be seen.

If he had wanted simply to be seen, he could indeed have taken another, and nobler, body. Instead, he took our body in its reality.

Within the Virgin he built himself a temple, that is, a body; he made it his own instrument in which to dwell and to reveal himself. In this way he received from mankind a body like our own, and, since all were subject to the corruption of death, he delivered this body over to death for all, and with supreme love offered it to the Father. He did so to destroy the law of corruption passed against all men, since all died in him. The law, which had spent its force on the body of the Lord, could no longer have any power over his fellowmen. Moreover, this was the way in which the Word was to restore mankind to immortality, after it had fallen into corruption, and summon it back from death to life. He utterly destroyed the power death had against mankind–as fire consumes chaff–by means of the body he had taken and the grace of the resurrection. . . .

Almighty ever-living God, who raised up the Bishop Saint Athanasius as an outstanding champion of your Son’s divinity, mercifully grant, that, rejoicing in his teaching and his protection, we may never cease to grow in knowledge and love of you. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

St. Turibius of Mogrovejo

Today the Church celebrates the feast of St. Turibius (sometimes called Toribio) of Mogrovejo (1538-1606). Most readers probably aren’t familiar with St. Turibius. Not very often do we hear of friends naming their children “Turibius”! Yet, despite his relative obscurity, he’s one of the greatest bishops the Western Hemisphere has ever known.

He was born in Mayorga in the kingdom of Leon (I’m not kidding!) in Spain. He was a devout young layman who eventually made a name for himself as a civil and canon lawyer. When the Archdiocese of Lima needed a bishop, King Philip II recommended him to the Holy Father, who confirmed his selection as Lima’s new archbishop.

Turibius initially did what he could to resist his nomination, but in the end he acquiesced out of obedience to the Church. He was ordained a priest and consecrated as a bishop before being sent to Lima in 1587.

He was filled with great apostolic zeal. He founded many hospitals, schools, and churches–and also the first seminary in the New World! He was a reformer who called various councils and synods, and he used his legal expertise and holy wisdom to issue decrees for his archdiocese that were later adopted by other dioceses.

St. Turibius travelled to every corner of his huge archdiocese to reach out to his entire flock. He became the great protector of the native peoples, who were being exploited by the Spanish immigrants. And to assist in his work with the Indians, over the course of his 20-year archbishopric he mastered several Indian dialects.

There’s one final point I’d like to make about St. Turibius: He’s Exhibit “A” when it comes to the extraordinary impact a proactive, Spirit-filled bishop can have on the faith life of his flock. This impact not only involves “numbers” (large amount of converts) but also fostering an environment where holiness can really flourish. In that regard, I don’t think it’s a coincidence at all that two great Dominican saints–St. Martin de Porres and St. Rose of Lima–were very small children when St. Turibius arrived on the scene.

St. Turibius, pray for us!