Showing posts with label Final Judgment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Final Judgment. Show all posts

Sunday, July 12, 2015

St. Benedict & St. Olga: Signs of God's Mercy

     Yesterday was the feast of two very different saints: St. Benedict and St. Olga.  The one lived a life of sanctity from a fairly early age, and spent a lifetime strengthening the foundations of God’s Church (and through that, the foundations of western civilization as a whole); the other was a pagan for most of her life and only found Christian faith and sanctity as an old woman.  Yet both are honored as saints.

St. Benedict delivering his rule
     St. Benedict is by far the better known saint, at least for most of us here in the west.  Benedict was born in Italy toward the end of the 5th century A.D.  As a young man he wanted to withdraw from the disorder of the secular world, and he became a hermit on Mt. Subiaco.  As is often the way, however, other people were attracted by his sanctity, and soon he found himself at the head of a religious community, which eventually became the Benedictine Order.  He is called “the Father of Western Monasticism” because virtually every monastic order in the Western Church since his time has modelled its rule of life on the one he devised for the Benedictines.  He also stands out as one of the key figures in the development of Europe’s Christian civilization, both because the monks of the order he founded preserved in their scriptoria a great deal of the literature of classical Greece and Rome, along with writings of the Church Fathers and other early Christian authors, and also because the monks were the primary providers of what formal education there was in Western Europe in the early middle ages.
     St. Olga couldn’t have been more different.  She was born a pagan, and not in sunny Italy
Saint Olga
but in the snows of Russia about 400 years after St. Benedict.  She married the Duke of Kiev in the year 903, to whom she remained wed until his assassination forty-two years later.  Olga, who ruled her husband’s duchy after his murder, cruelly scalded to death his assassins and put many of their followers to death.  Her life changed dramatically twelve years later, however, when at the age of 78 she converted to Christianity. She spent her remaining twelve years before her death at 90 striving for personal sanctity and actively promoting the faith.
     How strange that two people so unlike each other are honored on the same day under the same title of “Saint”.  Nothing, it seems, is the same, not their origins, position is society, the trajectory of their lives, or the manner in which each came to sanctity.  Well, perhaps almost nothing is the same, because we can see in the story or each of these saints the working out of God’s mercy.
     St. Benedict, for instance, lived in a Europe still reeling from the collapse of the great Greco-Roman civilization of antiquity.  It must have seemed a huge and irremedial loss to many people of that time.  St. Benedict, however, was one of God’s instruments in the building of a new civilization, not so much upon the ruins of the old, but rather upon the foundation of the Church, which baptized and incorporated the best parts of that older civilization into a new edifice that eventually rose higher than anything that had gone before.   When we start to think that our own society is rapidly headed for oblivion (I plead guilty), we would do well to remember St. Benedict, and that any and all human societies in this world are doomed to fail.  God, however, has a home for us (if, like St. Benedict, we persevere in the Faith) in the New Jerusalem, which

has no need of sun or moon to shine upon it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp  the Lamb.  By its light shall the nations walk; and the kings of the earth shall bring their glory into it, and its gates shall never be shut by day--and there shall be no night there; they shall bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations.  But nothing unclean shall enter it, nor any one who practices abomination or falsehood, but only those who are written in the Lamb's book of life. (Revelation 21:23-27)

     St. Olga, who even in her sixty-fifth year looked more like some demonic spirit of vengeance than she did a saint, reminds us that it is never too late to turn back to the Lord and receive his offer of mercy.  Jesus says that “there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:10); why should they rejoice any less over me, or you, or, say, your cousin who has lived a lifetime of iniquity, than they did over St. Olga?

     That, if fact, is the message of Hope that we can find in the wide diversity throughout the Communion of Saints.  As St. Peter says,  "Truly I perceive that God shows no partiality, but in every nation any one who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him” (Acts 10:34-35). The lives of these two saints remind us that no defeat in this world is final, and that God always has something better in store, if we're willing to accept it.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Compline: For Tonight and Forever (LOH 8)

(This is the eigth installment of a series of posts on the Liturgy of the Hours for lay people)

      In today's discussion of the Liturgy of the Hours I'll focus on Night Prayer, or Compline.  This office  plays a special role in the overall plan of the Liturgy of the Hours.  It complements the Invitatory Psalm with which we start the daily liturgy (see here). While the Invitatory orients us to God from the first moments of the day, reminding us of his Lordship and the challenges we are likely to face if  we fail to rely on Him, Compline draws our daily activities to a conclusion, and puts us in a proper frame of mind to surrender ourselves to the Lord’s care in sleep.  At the same time as it prepares us for our nightly sleep, however, Night Prayer also prepares us for our eternal rest in the life to come.

Nunc Dimittis: Simeon sees the infant Jesus in the Temple

    Night Prayer is structured much like a shorter version of Lauds or Vespers: there is a Psalmody, a brief scripture reading followed by a responsory, a Gospel Canticle and closing prayer.  But there are also significant differences.  After the usual opening (“Lord, come to my assistance . . .”) we conduct an examination of conscience, followed by the Confiteor, the Kyrie or some other appropriate penitential prayer.  There is only one psalm, or two very short ones, no intercessions, and the closing prayer is followed by a Marian antiphon.  Also, in addition to being shorter, there is much less variety in Night Prayer.  Aside from minor variations for particularly important solemnities and "alleiuas" during the Easter season, the prayers all follow the same cycle every week (as opposed to a four week cycle, and much greater variation for liturgical seasons, in the other hours). 
     Compline is a wonderfully effective transitional prayer.  At the beginning we tie up any loose ends from the day in the examination of conscience and put them behind us in the penitential prayer.  If there is a hymn, it isn’t sung until after those things are done; only then are we ready to entrust ourselves to the mercy of God.  That reliance on God’s Grace is a major element in the Psalmody for Night Prayer. Sunday’s psalm, for instance (Psalm 91) begins:

            He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
            And abides in the shade of the Almighty –
            Says to the Lord: “My refuge,
            My Stronghold, my God in whom I trust!”
           
The themes of night (“Lift your hands to the holy place/and bless the Lord through the night”, Psalm 134, Saturday) and sleep (“I will lie down in peace and sleep comes at once”, Psalm 4, Friday) also play a large role – as does the theme of death (“Will you work your wonders for the dead/Will the shades stand and praise you?”, Psalm 88, Thursday).
     The theme of preparing ourselves for eternal rest becomes even more explicit in the responsory that follows the short scripture verse:

            Into your hands lord, I commend my spirit.
                        - Into your hands lord, I commend my spirit.
            You have redeemed us, Lord God of Truth
                        -I commend my spirit.
            Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,
                        - Into your hands lord, I commend my spirit.

This verse is based on Psalm 31, but is perhaps more familiar to us from Luke 23:46, when Jesus recites the first line as he is dying on the cross.  Because of its close association with the crucifixion it is replaced during the Octave of Easter with “This is the day the Lord has made/Let us rejoice and be glad”; other than that, we say this same responsory every night of the year, albeit with “alleluia, alleluia” included during the Easter season outside the Octave.
     After the responsory we find the Gospel Canticle, the Canticle of Simeon (also known as the Nunc Dimittis, from Luke 2:29-32) which begins “Lord, now you let your servant go in peace . . .”   This is the prayer of thanksgiving sung by the old prophet Simeon, to whom it had been revealed “by the Holy Spirit that he should not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ” (Luke 2:26).  This prayer forms a sort of triptych with the Canticles from Lauds and Vespers: in the morning, with the Benedictus, the focus is on John the Baptist, the Forerunner of the Messiah; at Evening Prayer in the Magnificat we see the first meeting (in utero!) of the Forerunner and the Messiah himself; at Compline the Messiah makes his first appearance in the Temple to claim his birthright, and Simeon, the aged representative of the Old Covenant, declares himself satisfied, praises God, and retires to his final repose.
     The closing prayer is appropriate to the hour; Thursday’s office,  for instance, closes with:

            Lord God,
            Send peaceful sleep
            To refresh our tired bodies.
            May your help always renew us
And keep us strong in your service.

The conclusion that follows makes explicit reference to the connection between our nightly rest and the more permanent repose to come:

            May the all-powerful Lord grant us a restful night and a peaceful death.

     We close Night Prayer with an antiphon addressed to the Blessed Mother.
     Compline, or Night Prayer, is like the other offices, but also has a special part to play in the daily Office. Even if we are lay people praying the Liturgy of the Hours as a private devotion, it is still a liturgical, which is to say a public, prayer and by its very nature it draws us out of ourselves to unite us with Christ and his Mystical Body, the Church.  Night Prayer does that and more: as we go through the office we put our affairs in order, as it were, in the penitential rite at the beginning; after that in the prayers that follow we turn our attention from the concerns of the day to the preparation of our souls for the night to come; we entrust ourselves to the Lord's Mercy ("Into you hands I commend my spirit") and then, through the words of Simeon and the concluding verse, reach beyond our rest in this world and ask for God's Grace in the world to come.  Our final prayer is to ask for the intercession of the First Disciple, who, we know, is already enjoying the Lord's peace in Heaven, and whom we hope to join there beyond the final setting of the sun on this world.
 
To read the whole series go here.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Cicero At The Gym (from Nisi Dominus)


 "Quo usque tandem abutere, Catilina, latrinis femineis nostris?"

O Tempora, O Mores!

Are we living in a neo-pagan culture?  One could argue that we are doing just that, or heading in that direction, given that our culture has largely abandoned God and Christianity.  If we are, then we Neo-pagans are in much sorrier shape than the Old Pagans ever were, because they had no access to the Revelation of Jesus Christ, but we do, and we are consciously rejecting it.  Along with Supernatural Truth, we are also increasingly abandoning even natural truths in a way that would have horrified the heathens of old.  Consider, for instance, what the Roman orator, philosopher, and writer Cicero has to say about what we would call Natural Law . . .

(read what Cicero has to say, and what it has to do with the latest battles in the Gender Wars, here at Nisi Dominus)








Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Mozart's Requiem: Confutatis and Lacrimosa

Detail from Michelangelo's Last Judgment:
"pie Jesu Domine,dona eis requiem"
     While it's not strictly speaking a Lenten composition, Mozart's Requiem Mass, which he was still completing at the time of his death, lends itself to the penitential nature of the liturgical season.  This excerpt ("Confutatis" and "Lacrimosa"), part of the setting for Thomas of Celano's great hymn "Dies Irae", looks ahead to the Final Judgment.  Here, Mozart's music powerfully complements the words of the hymn: we can almost feel what it's like to be unworthy sinners approaching the Throne of God to throw ourselves upon his Mercy (which, indeed, we are).






Confutatis maledictis,
flammis acribus addictis,
voca me cum benedictis.
Oro supplex et acclinis,
cor contritum quasi cinis,
gere curam mei finis.

     When the wicked are confounded,
     and consigned to bitter flames,
     call me among the blessed.
     I pray humble and downcast,
     my heart worn down like ash,
     take up the care of my end.


Lacrimosa dies illa,
qua resurget ex favilla
judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus,
pie Jesu Domine,
dona eis requiem. Amen.

     That day,full of tears,
     when from the ashes shall arise,
     Man, the accused to be judged.
     Have mercy on him, therefore, O God,
     faithful Lord Jesus,
     grant them eternal rest. Am
en