"Unpacking the Precepts": Church Contribution

The fifth precept ("You shall help to provide for the needs of the Church") means that the faithful are obliged to assist with the material needs of the Church, each according to his own ability. (CCC 2043)

The Catechism refers the reader to Canon 222§1, which provides the reasons for material support: "so that the Church has what is necessary for divine worship, for the works of the apostolate and of charity, and for the decent support of ministers."

To paraphrase former Speaker of the House Thomas P. ("Tip") O'Neill who naturally spoke of politics, "All religion is local."  My examination of this fifth precept is also local.

The operating budget of any parish heavily depends on the contributions of parishioners.  Oftentimes we experience, and always we appreciate, the generosity of visitors; but it's the crew who steers the foundering vessel through the quotidian tumult.  Considering the low percentage of parishioners who go to Mass regularly among the parishioners "on the books," we cannot help but acknowledge that a relative few people supply nearly the whole parish income.

That's not fair.

Now I don't claim to know what each participating member is able to give.  It's a personal decision, but that doesn't mean that other people can't make suggestions, especially when those suggestions are based on their own experience.

The practice of "tithing" is rooted in the story of Abram and Melchizedek in Gen 14:18ff.  After  rescuing his nephew and company in a battle, Abram brought the king of Salem "a tenth of everything" he had collected in the spoils.  Melchizedek was a precursor of the tribe of Levi, Israel's priestly tribe, which received all its material support from the tithes of the Israelites (cf. Num 18:21; Heb 7:5).

The priestly practice of depending on the people was also an act of dependence upon the Lord.  "Will they (He) provide for us?"  They will, if they take seriously the Lord's command to sanctify the Lord's Day in His holy dwelling place and if they present a just offering with gratitude for the Lord's providential care for their lives.  In this and many other human affairs, God "relies" on us human beings as secondary agents of Providence (CCC 306-308).

Three relevant winners from CCC 306-308:

God grants his creatures...the dignity of acting on their own, of being causes and principles for each other, and thus of cooperating in the accomplishment of his plan. (306)

God thus enables men to be intelligent and free causes in order to complete the work of creation, to perfect its harmony for their own good and that of their neighbors.  Though often unconscious collaborators with God's will, they can also enter deliberately into the divine plan by their actions, their prayers, and their sufferings. (307)

Drawn from nothingness by God's power, wisdom, and goodness, [the creature] can do nothing if it is cut off from its origin, for "without a Creator the creature vanishes" (Gaudium et Spes 36§3).  Still less can a creature attain its ultimate end without the help of God's grace. (308)

Contribution to the Church and other worthy causes is for everyone an act of faith, that, when it comes to my life, God "is not dead, nor doth He sleep."  But at the same time, by our many and varied contributions, we become part of the answer to others' prayers.

One-tenth has long been understood as a standard of sacrificial generosity.  Whether we distribute our offering entirely to our parish, or among several recipients, is a personal decision; but this author suggests caution against overextending oneself so that many recipients benefit little.

Your parish ought to be high on the list, because the parish is the "precinct" of pastoral care.  Priests celebrate the holy and life-giving Sacraments, preach the Gospel, and offer themselves for your spiritual needs.  The hired workers of the parish (e.g. secretaries, maintenance personnel) keep the facilities in good working order, so that the physical plant is sound and presentable, and so that services divine and human can be provided.  If the parish participates in a school, the parish likely subsidizes a considerable amount of the school's operating budget.  Everyone has expenses, and our good people enable the household of faith to cover its own.

Moreover, the parish helps to provide for people who need a financial boost.  St. Vincent De Paul Societies, Knights of Columbus, and other organizations help local residents.  Parishioners offer non-perishable foods for direct distribution to parishioners and to local pantries.  Holy Guardian Angels Parish also supports Mary's Shelter and Mary's Home, refuges for women who are pregnant or have young children.  These charitable endeavors are distinct from the ordinary expenses that your weekly contributions offset.

We cannot forget the Church's missionary activity.  "Charity begins at home, but can't stay at home forever."  Efforts exist on a diocesan and national level for the ongoing proclamation of the Gospel in other countries and parts of our own country that cannot easily support themselves.  "Operation Rice Bowl" was started in this diocese by Msgr. Robert J. Coll, one of our now retired priests.  Our school children participate in an initiative called the "Missionary Childhood Association" (formerly the "Holy Childhood Association") that raises funds every year.  Older Catholics may recall the practice of "saving pagan babies" with the quarters they saved as school children.  A kinder, gentler Church eschews such nomenclature in favor of bringing spiritual and material sustenance to the most vulnerable of God's precious poor.

Canon 222§2: "[The Christian faithful] are also obliged to promote social justice and, mindful of the precept of the Lord, to assist the poor from their own resources."  Whom and what you assist outside of the parochial context is a matter of conscience.  Moreover, we never neglect personal justice in the name of social justice: remember (as Fulton Sheen did) how Judas spurned a sinful woman's offering in the insincere interest of "helping the poor," and remember how Jesus approved the woman's regard for Him as appropriate for the moment--yes, because He Is Who He Is, but also because Whoever is in front of us deserves our attention.

"Unpacking the Precepts": Fasting and Abstinence

The fourth precept ("You shall observe the days of fasting and abstinence established by the Church") ensures the times of ascesis and penance which prepares us for the liturgical feasts and helps us acquire mastery over our instincts and freedom of heart.  (CCC 2043)

Here the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops elucidate the national regulations for fasting and abstinence.  An amplified summary:

• "Abstinence" (refraining from eating meat and products containing meat--broth base, gravy, etc.) is binding on Ash Wednesday, on all Fridays of Lent, and Good Friday.
• "Fasting" (eating one full meal and two smaller meals that do not equal a full meal) is binding on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.  It is recommended, if possible, to continue the fast begun on Good Friday all the way to the Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday night.
• Fridays during the year remain penitential days to honor the Lord's passion and death.  Abstinence from meat is the standard Friday practice.  Currently, however, Americans are permitted to substitute another suitable penance of their own choosing.

Canon 1253 supports the third point: "The conference of bishops can determine more precisely the observance of fast and abstinence as well as substitute other forms of penance, especially works of charity and exercises of piety, in whole or in part, for abstinence and fast."
Church historians and ascetical theologians could treat the history of fasting and abstinence better than I could; but I do know (from the attestation of older Catholics) that Friday abstinence was the norm until perhaps the 1960s or 70s; in addition, there were other fasting days such as Ember Days.  In various times and places in Church history, Advent had a penitential tone marked by fasting.

Judaism and Orthodox Christianity continue to observe fasting practices that surpass the mandatory practices of Catholicism, both in nature and extent.  Orthodox Christians fast, as Catholics do, in order to "gain mastery over oneself and to conquer the passions of the flesh," as one priest notes in a comprehensive and illustrative article.  In this and many other dimensions of Orthodox Christianity, I sense a profound unity with the West--if not in terms of terminology or practice, then definitely of theory.  One Catholic author who seems to enjoy the good things of life has profited much from roundly adopting the Orthodox fast, and believes that a renewed "Catechesis of Fasting" would profit Latin-Rite Catholics (q.v.), even if we Latins are more adept at adapting than adopting.  Much of traditional Catholicism's education on fasting has favored the purpose of self-discipline for virtue (as opposed to self-improvement for its own sake).  In the process we undoubtedly, and acutely, realize our human weakness.  We do well to consider the Orthodox perspective for its joy--an aspect usually lost on the West.

Some have opined that the purpose of fasting is not primarily to discipline the will for a greater resistance of temptation (although it does), or to foster spiritual growth in us (which strangely enough can become a matter of pride!), but rather to reveal the profound need to depend on divine mercy in the likely event of failure to maintain the discipline.  I believe I read this in an article concerning the practice of "giving up" something for Lent...

...AHA!  Here it is!  In his criticism of an article by an evangelical Christian, a local Orthodox priest by the name of Fr. Andrew S. Damick reminds his readers that a faster's goals of self-improvement and self-realization-as-sinner are indeed secondary to what we might call the objective objective: to dispose oneself, body and soul, to divine grace so that we may become, as the first Bishop of Rome puts it, "partakers in the divine nature" (2 Pet 1:4).  Making room for grace inevitably involves the uprooting of vice; but that is as much God's activity as ours.

Archbishop Fulton Sheen keenly contrasted fasting with dieting, the latter being a cherished practice among moderns.  Dieting often involves the improvement of one's physical appearance and self-esteem, often in order to look more attractive to one's spouse or paramour, actual or potential.  The improvement of one's "numbers" (e.g., body weight, cholesterol, triglycerides, blood sugar) is another, praiseworthy, objective for the dieter.  When Lent comes around, however, people sometimes adopt their Lenten disciplines with ill-fitting and self-centered motives.  In the interest of purifying one's motives for ascesis (discipline), one may want to adopt different  disciplines such as refraining from the television or computer, and/or "doing a good turn daily," implementing the virtues that our families, workplaces, and schools sorely need.

Recall, too, that the Catechism mentions freedom of heart as a positive reason for ecclesial and personal disciplines.  I want to be able to put down something I dearly cherish: for example, the cup of coffee that frequently...currently...sits by my side.  I might have been in the seminary for two or three years when a retreat master suggested giving up coffee (temporarily or permanently) as an ascetical strategy.  It didn't perk me up.  That exchange has been percolating in my mind for all these years because it awakened me to my profound attachment to certain practices and substances.  (That, too, is a good motive of fasting.)  I have since made various life changes for various reasons, but coffee abides with me.  For how much longer, I don't know; but if my mentors suggested it to me, I wouldn't resist as much as I did 15-20 years ago.

"...But not yet!"

I sincerely hope that we Catholics--the Reverend Blogger foremost among them--can recover a genuine appreciation for the value of sacrifice, which is manifested above all in repentance for sin and charity toward neighbor.  Perhaps we can return to fasting with creativity and ingenuity, moved by the willingness to surpass the expected minimum (as the Precepts of the Church prescribe) toward ever greater lengths, "for our good and for the good of all His holy Church."

"Unpacking the Precepts": Easter Duty

I wish to thank blogger Lisa M. Hendey of CatholicMom.com for her kind promotion of my recent post on the precept on Mass attendance.  It was, in turn, picked up by Elizabeth Scalia, blogger known as "The Anchoress" and editor of the Catholic portal at Patheos.com, for which I am equally grateful.  One of my readers has urged me not to "forget the little people."  Fear not: I will forever be one of the little people, both in the blogosphere and on planet earth (I am barely under 5'4", and, to quote one of my favorites, Woody Allen: "The only thing standing between me and greatness is me.")

Our registration form for new parishioners has a space for them to answer whether they have made their "Easter Duty."  Most registrants have to ask our secretary what that means.  (No longer can we presume knowledge of this and many other Church teachings and practices.)  Some of them, in fact, have made their Easter Duty and then some; others have not.  To quell any confusion about the matter:

The third precept ("You shall receive the sacrament of the Eucharist at least during the Easter season") guarantees as a minimum the reception of the Lord's Body and Blood in connection with the Paschal feasts, the origin and center of the Christian liturgy." (CCC 2042; can. 920)

In my father's last several years, he and I had some rather interesting conversations about religion.  This one most often comes to mind: Dad, a product of the schola antiqua (old school), asked me why so many people were in line for Holy Communion while so few queued for Confession.  "Every week we had to go."  I hear that often from the older set.  Priests tell of the days when three of them would be hearing Confessions for an hour and a half on a Saturday afternoon--when many parishes had two or three assistants!

One wonders whether little attention was paid to the distinction between mortal and venial sin (reviewed in the last post), to the effect that every misstep risked a descent to the Hell of Damnation, or at least a near-eternity in Purgatory.  Of course, I cannot say that for sure, since I wasn't around yet.  Nor can I affirm that people were more conscientious (even if to a fault) back then.  Judging by the attested numbers, relatively few people considered themselves fit to partake in the Eucharist; and those who did, approached with extreme caution.

The Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom features a dialogue between the priest and the faithful in which the priest, facing the people, lifts up the Holy Gifts (the Eucharist) and proclaims, "Holy Things to the holy!"  To which the people respond, "One is Holy, One is Lord, Jesus Christ, to the glory of God the Father.  Amen."  Throughout the entire Liturgy the priest and people implore God to make them worthy.  The Ordinary Form of the Latin Rite, which has been shaved with Occam's Razor, saves the declaration of unworthiness for the Moment of Truth ("Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter..."), although our participation in the rite presumes (without being presumptuous) our unworthiness, as well as God's power to purify us and His intention and desire to do so.

Does it mean that the pendulum has swung because nowadays seemingly everyone approaches the Altar?  We cannot, of course, presume that everyone who approaches weekly, approaches weakly; but perhaps some do fail to "examine themselves before eating the bread and drinking the cup," failing to "discern the body of Christ," with the infelicitous result of "eating and drinking judgment upon themselves" (1 Cor 11:28-29).  In other words, we do ourselves great harm by receiving Communion when we fail to acknowledge Christ's Real Presence or when we are deliberately retaining serious sin.  It's the spiritual equivalent of drinking battery acid; but if it burns, it may move us to repentance.

The Truth.

Also the Truth.

If there is any accuracy to the statistics concerning belief in the Real Presence (cf. this study of the former and this more comprehensive CARA study), the relevance of the "Easter Duty" swiftly wanes.  Let's not be concerned solely about whether people receive Communion once a year; rather, about whether people attend Mass more than once or twice a year!  Repeated action reinforces belief: put more technically, "Orthopraxis breeds Orthodoxy."

For the present, the precept remains in force.  Presuming one attends Mass on the Lord's Day and Holy Days of Obligation; presuming one celebrates the Sacrament of Penance at least whenever necessary and possible (i.e., whenever one is conscious of grave sin and whenever a duly-authorized priest is at hand); one ought to receive the Eucharist at least during the Easter Season.  These may be ponderous presumptions, but they nonetheless pertain to practical Catholics.  As for merely theoretical Catholics, how shall they be convinced to make the leap toward an impassioned practice nourished by sound doctrine?

Lest this post devolve any further into a diatribe or a hand-wringing endeavor, we do well to remember the centrality of Easter, the Day of Resurrection.  It is the feast of feasts.  It renews our Christian identity as persons incorporated into Christ's Mystical Body, sealed by His promised Holy Spirit.  In light of this blessed reality we love God and obey His commandments; the Church becomes more than an incidental component of our lives or even a wonderful place to keep in touch with people of like minds and interests.

Jesus of Nazareth is no one less than God the Son who became flesh, who suffered and died and rose from the dead in the flesh, for our redemption.  He instituted the Church as the secure conduit of His  grace.  The Holy and Divine Liturgy is the source and summit of who we are and how we conduct ourselves as members of Christ's Body.  Therefore, while we live, we approach at least as often as commanded, in order that His command become our wish.

"Unpacking the Precepts": Annual Confession

The second precept ("You shall confess your sins at least once a year") ensures preparation for the Eucharist by the reception of the sacrament of reconciliation, which continues Baptism's work of conversion and forgiveness.  (CCC 2042)

The relevant canon (989) in the 1983 Code of Canon Law reads: "After having reached the age of discretion, each member of the faithful is obliged to confess faithfully his or her grave sins at least once a year" (Canon Law Society of America, 1988 trans.)  The Catechism's omission of "grave" sins is curious.

Age of discretion: As far as I am aware, most parish religious education programs introduce children to the Sacrament of Reconciliation in second grade, or about the age of seven.  By that time in our lives we have begun to understand the concept of disobeying rules, even if the rationale of those rules is yet unclear; we certainly know when we have angered or disappointed our parents, grandparents, babysitters, and teachers!  In those early years we begin to learn that we have options and therefore must make choices: to act or not to act, to act this way or that.  That's "discretion," from the Latin discernere, which means "to separate, distinguish between" (cf. discreet; see "discernment").

The faithful: The Christifideles are all the baptized who have not consciously and freely separated themselves from the Mystical Body of Christ.  That's one way of looking at it; more positively put, one "stays close," remains part of the Body through visible acts of faith such as attending Mass, as well as daily acts of prayer, sacrifice, and charity.  "The faithful" obviously aren't "the perfect": with that standard, our churches would be completely empty!  The fideles act fideliter, faithfully; that is, in accord with their regenerated, Christian nature.  Regularly engaging in the constructive discipline of making a good sacramental Confession is just how we roll.

Once a year is regular, I suppose, but really, is it enough?  I go about once a month.  Others go every week or two, others four or five times a year.  It may be hard to find a priest or to find the time, but "where there's a will, there's a way."  To those who say, "How can I commit any sins?  I don't go anywhere," I can attest that I don't have to move a muscle to entertain a bad thought.  People sure can find a way to sin, oftentimes never having to leave a room but just as oftentimes walking a mile for a Camel!

A good Confession is:

1. Preceded by an honest and thorough examination of conscience against the Ten Commandments, Beatitudes, Precepts of the Church, etc;
2. Motivated by at least "imperfect" contrition (fearing/despising the punishment our sins are due, in this life and/or the next, but better motivated by "perfect contrition" (dreading the thought of having offended a loving God whom we love);
3. Conducted with earnestness and without excuses, omitting no mortal sins, specifying as well as possible the number of mortal sins; and
4. Followed by prompt penance: recitation of prescribed prayers, amendment of behaviors, restoration of property or reputations.

Grave, mortal, really big: Whether one makes an annual, semi-annual, monthly, or daily Confession, one is obliged to confess only "mortal," i.e., serious sins.   If I were a "man-on-the-street" reporter, not only would I administer "exit polls" to people who have stopped going to Mass or have left the Catholic Church, I would also ask people if they could distinguish venial from mortal sin and give examples.

(When some people first heard the word "catechesis," they thought the person was saying, "cease and desist," so that's what just they did.)

Paragraph 1855 of the Catechism lays down the fundamental distinction:

"Mortal sin destroys charity in the heart of man by a grave violation of God's law; it turns man away from God, who is his ultimate end and his beatitude, by preferring an inferior good to him.  Venial sin allows charity to subsist, even though it offends and wounds it."   

What, pray tell, are the characteristics of mortal sin?

1. The object of choice is grave matter: a literal violation of one of the Ten Commandments; gravity also takes note of the relationship between the offender and the offended.  The closer the relationship (e.g. parent-child vs. complete strangers), the greater the disadvantage of one party (e.g. taking advantage of a simpleminded person), the more serious the offense.
2. The agent knows full well that the choice involves a serious violation of God's law.  Pretended ignorance is inexcusable.  You can fool some people, but "God is not mocked" (Gal 6:7).  That was a seminary staple: "It is easier to ask forgiveness than permission."  Easier to receive, more like it.  Unintentional ignorance may eliminate culpability (responsibility in God's sight), but one ought to seek to know the truth in case of doubt.
3. The agent gives complete consent to the choice.  One cannot sin by accident (I love it when kids claim they "accidentally" kicked or pushed their siblings--but how else does one feel when one's actions have unforeseen or unintended consequences: think of the drunk driver guilty of vehicular manslaughter!), or in the absence of real options.  Stubbornness ("hardness of heart," biblically speaking)--choosing with gusto--exacerbates the voluntary nature of the choice.  In a great many cases, the person acts out of weakness more than malice: external force and internal pressures (e.g. uncontrollable emotions, especially in addictive or pathological situations) can diminish responsibility.  People gain great freedom, but also great responsibility, when they learn they don't have to act on the first thought that occurs to them!

If any of these conditions is lacking, the agent has not committed a mortal sin.  This is where mentioning relevant circumstances can be helpful in Confession (e.g. "I missed Mass on the holyday because I was sick.  I didn't even go to the hairdresser!").

Do the best you can to remember your sins.  If you remember something later, there is no need to rush back in.  You can mention it the next time.  This is another good reason for going more than once a year.

As I said above, one need not mention venial sins, but many penitents find a certain comfort in doing so--the assurance of God's forgiveness and strength against future temptations.  I need all the help I can get.

A priest yelled at me...in 1962...You wouldn't let a case of food poisoning keep you from eating at every McDonalds, or every fast food restaurant, or eating at all!

Your first meal could only go so far in nourishing your body.  You had to eat again.  Conversion, like sin, is a lifetime endeavor.

I can confess directly to God.  Sure, we can!  This question brought to mind a news article from last January when Pope Benedict XVI visited a prison in Italy.  He fielded questions from the prisoners, including this very confessional concern:

Gianni, another inmate, asked the pope why he had to go to confession for pardon instead of just getting on his knees and asking God for forgiveness. “Naturally, if you get on your knees and, with real love for God, pray that God forgive you, he will,” the pope said. But sin doesn’t disturb only the relationship between an individual and God, he said, it harms the community of the church and wider society. The sacrament of reconciliation “is the great gift by which, through confession, I can free myself from this and can receive real forgiveness, including in the sense of a full readmission into the community of the living church,” he said. 

Human beings are societal by nature, yet it seems we can tend just as strongly, when we wish, toward individualism.  This is not necessarily a problem, provided we can keep our centrifugal and centripetal  tendencies in balance.  But we do nothing in a vacuum...except suck.  Personal sin is never "private," especially insofar as we must continue to be involved in our family and occupational efforts when we are "in sin."  How can the choices we make in seclusion not somehow seep into our dealings with others?

In the same vein, our movement toward repentance and change occurs in a larger context.  "It takes a village to raise a child," especially as the child stumbles on her journey to ambulation.  The Church is always, in her every public and personal prayer, longing for people's conversion.

Stop fighting.  Go to Confession.  At least once a year, but thrice is nice.