Where Thy Glory Dwells

This was the finest church in Mount Carbon, PA

(cf. Wikimedia Commons)

This is Who made it so

(as featured in the Diocese of Allentown)

Since seventh grade (1988-89) I have played the organ for church, as often as five times a weekend. At first an occasional substitute, finally I reached out to local parishes for regular work, and soon I was picked up by the former St. Francis DeSales Parish in Mount Carbon, suburb of Pottsville.

The sacristan, Kathleen Glaser, called herself the “Assistant Pastor,” and certainly knew as much about the building and community as any assistant. We had many colorful chats before Mass. When Kathleen died, the pastor, now-retired Father Edward B. Connolly, designed her memorial card. Beneath her photo was Psalm 26:8, which reads, “O Lord, I love the habitation of thy house, and the place where thy glory dwells.”

In June 2019, I became pastor of Saints Peter and Paul in Lehighton. In my first visit to the vestibule, I spied above the entrance to the nave that same Bible verse, which connected me to those early experiences that kept me off the streets and in the sanctuary. Upon reaching my seventh assignment in 18 years of priestly ministry, I knew I was home, where God’s glory dwells.

The pandemic is the latest of many changes over these decades. Now 70% of Catholics do not regularly attend Mass in otherwise normal times, and only 25% believe that Jesus is truly, really, and substantially present under the appearances of bread and wine in the Holy Eucharist. These facts prompted Allentown Bishop Alfred A. Schlert to declare this 60th Diocesan Anniversary the “Year of the Real Presence” (yearofrealpresence.org).

Catholics know Christ abides and feeds in many ways, as the Second Vatican Council told us: in the proclaimed Scriptures, in the priest, and in the assembly, but most tangibly in the Holy Eucharist, where His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity pitch their tent among us.

Our new parish Society of Saint Vincent de Paul ritually recalls how Jesus is present wherever two or three are gathered (Matthew 18:20). Saint Teresa of Calcutta often said the needy are among Jesus’ “most distressing disguises”: it can be as hard to see Him in our suffering brothers and sisters as in the consecrated bread and wine. But Mother Teresa’s sisters adore the Eucharistic Lord each day before serving Him in the streets, and our SVDP Conference has chosen to begin our meetings in the same way.

The Missionaries of Charity and the Saint Vincent de Paul Society embody another principle from the same Second Vatican Council: the Sacred Liturgy is the “Source and Summit of the Church’s life and activity”: Christ is everywhere because He is present unmistakably, most intimately, in the Holy Eucharist and the Holy Mass. We take His Real Presence in the Mass to the real people and situations of our lives, which in turn we offer alongside the bread and wine that becomes Him in the Mass.

It makes you wonder, though: if Jesus is here, why isn’t everyone else? Other faiths are asking the same of their own adherents. A global pandemic accounts for the current dearth of ritual involvement, but the “real absence” is nothing new to any religious body; even secular organizations have been reporting diminished returns over the years. In defense of their defection, some have cited God’s ubiquity when choosing to “worship in nature” or to follow some ersatz deity who makes no demands upon their conduct or allows them to worship on their own terms.

Sacred and secular alike, feeling the fatigue and isolation of these days, can take to their lips the author of the Letter to the Hebrews: “We should not stay away from our assembly, as is the custom of some, but encourage one another, and this all the more as you see the day drawing near” (10:25). What day? The Day of the Lord, Whose Presence is real and revealing and worthy of reverence.

Steven Wright and the Eucharist (A misleading title for the first of seven articles on the Sacraments)

One of the pastoral prerogatives is the direction of, and contribution to, the content of parish communication organs, whether it's the message board out front (which we don't have...yet), the various social media (for us, definitely a work in progress), or the reliable weekly bulletin. Since my first weekend at St. Michael the Archangel nearly two years ago, I have written a bulletin column called "To Inspire, To Inform,  To Entertain" (IIE) That's not the actual headline because I write too much to be able to fit the title, but those words do appear above a nearby quotation, which I take from sources as diverse as Steven Wright and Flannery O'Connor.


Fondly I tell of how I met Steven Wright. I flew to Boston to compete in the Marathon in 2017. While hanging out at Logan International Airport before my return flight, I saw a bearded man with a Red Sox cap wheeling his luggage in my direction while I was approaching (where else?) Dunkin' Donuts. From several dozen yards the man's identity seemed clear, although he was either trying to conceal it or just be a regular citizen. He seemed somewhat surprised I could spot him. I identified myself as a Catholic priest and a big fan. Wright, himself raised Catholic, seemed genuinely humbled by a priest's respect. I told him I feature diverse quotations in my weekly bulletin. "You mean that paper you get in church? Wow! That's neat." We gave a fist bump (WHY DIDN'T I REQUEST A SELFIE, COUTH BE DAMNED?) and he went on his way. I got in line for coffee, feeling a bit better for having competed earlier that week, even though my time was far slower than I'd desired.


IIE has featured series on the Spirituality of the Twelve Steps, Indulgenced Prayers (in honor of the 500th anniversary of the Reformation--"just to show 'em," God forgive me), and, more recently, the Seven Sacraments. For your penance, here is the first of the seven columns, largely unedited. You are always free to read past bulletins--nothing like "yesterday's news!"--archived under the relevant tab on our parish website.

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I was thinking about doing some sort of series on the Sacraments for the next seven weeks, because 1) there are seven of them; and b) for the next five weeks, the Gospel reading will be taken from the sixth chapter of Saint John’s Gospel. Permit me to do something unconventional by starting with the Eucharist. Think of Baptism as the egg and Eucharist as the chicken. In this series I declare that the chicken comes before the egg, in terms of both time and significance.

John 6 presents the famous “Bread of Life Discourse” in which Jesus declares the necessity of eating His flesh and drinking His blood in order to share in the Son’s eternal-life relationship with the Father. This chapter takes the place of “institution narratives” found in the other (“Synoptic”) Gospels, where Jesus offers His Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity for our salvation in the forms of bread and wine, first in the Upper Room with His Apostles on Holy Thursday, then on the Cross on Good Friday.

The Church’s Code of Canon Law presents a theologically rich description to lead off its treatment of each of the seven Sacraments. For Holy Eucharist, the Code references the Second Vatican Council’s liturgical document when it says, “The Eucharistic sacrifice, the memorial of the death and resurrection of the Lord, in which the sacrifice of the cross is perpetuated through the ages is the summit and source of all worship and Christian life, which signifies and effects the unity of the people of God and brings about the building up of the Body of Christ. Indeed, the other sacraments and all the ecclesiastical works of the apostolate are closely connected with the Most Holy Eucharist and ordered to it.”

That’s right, Catholics: Mass makes Calvary as real for us today as it was for Jesus Himself, those who dared to stand with Him, those who fled in fear, and for those who neither knew nor cared about the event. Through the Eucharist we share in the Paschal Mystery in more than a merely spectatorial manner. When we are all together at Mass, even if we don’t spiritually “have it all together,” insofar as we are “all together,” at least we have a chance. Moreover, every good work of ours finds its force from the Best Work of the God-Man. We are well reminded that we don’t, can’t, save ourselves.

“We must consider how to rouse one another to love and good works. We should not stay away from our assembly, as is the custom of some, but encourage one another, and this all the more as you see the day drawing near” (Heb 10:24-25).

An Annual Labor of Love

It is hard for me to imagine that the former Saint Kieran Parish in Heckscherville actually had two auxiliary chapels in nearby patches: one in Buck Run and the other in Greenbury. The latter, dedicated to Saint John (the Baptist? the Evangelist/Teacher/Divine?), collapsed some years ago, leaving miraculously untouched a lovely grotto of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The territories of New Castle Township and the patch of Greenbury came together in the name "Castle Green Grotto." At this lovely edifice, locals still convene to pray the Rosary and otherwise enjoy a lovely slice of Paradise.

For about a decade, several dedicated folks have organized an annual Mass on Labor Day. About 100 citizens attend, many of them former St. Kieran parishioners. The local Ancient Order of Hibernians and Ladies' AOH form an honor guard. Several area clergy have been the celebrants of the Mass over the years. As the local pastor, it has been my honor to join them. This year I was privileged to preach the occasion. Storied reporter John E. Usalis of the Pottsville Republican-Herald aptly summarized my words, which, lacking a written text, I certainly could not have done:

"We’re grateful to God and so the greatest act of gratitude to almighty God that we can offer is this sacrifice of the Mass. We do it specifically on Labor Day mindful of how God has labored on our behalf and how we labor for God. [...]

"So this day is dedicated to the honor of working. And not just the burden of it, but the honor and privilege of expending ourselves for the glory of God and for the betterment of man,” Zelonis said. “What a day to be able to do that with the liturgy, which is Greek and means ‘our work for God’ or ‘God’s work for us.’ It actually can be translated either way. The sacred liturgy is God’s work on our behalf, which I would say primarily because God is always the first agent, but then it is our work for God, our return to him as we hear in the Psalms. "What can I do for the Lord for all that he has done for me. I will take up the cup of salvation" (Ps 116:12-13). The bread of life and the cup of salvation will be offered, the bread and wine will become the body and blood of Christ, and we join to the bread and wine our prayers, our works, our joys and our sufferings.

Read more.

May You Live in Ordinary Time

The Church gives us special times and seasons in which the Liturgy emphasizes one aspect or another of Jesus’ person and mission, so that we can derive its special value for life. Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter have their appeal; but what for “Ordinary Time,” which we have just entered for a handful of weeks? What’s the appeal to Ordinary Time? More than we may appreciate.

The diversity of liturgical seasons corresponds with the diversity of foods. In any given congregation, we can expect to have some fans of Chinese food. These people may enjoy reading the contents of the fortune cookies they get with their meal. One seminary classmate used to save every fortune he got. I keep one in my wallet: “Listen to everyone. Ideas come from everywhere.” Another I found in a humor book, but received it as if it were meant for me: “You appeal to a small, select group of confused people.” And then there’s a famous fortune: “May you live in interesting times.”

While most children might appreciate the mystery and excitement in their lives, adults might strive to avoid it whenever possible, in favor of routine and predictability. It seems, however, that much of life is “interesting,” meaning, laden with situations, cares, heartaches, obsessions, illness, and all the rest: nothing ordinary about it! We may jump from one “interesting” event to another without savoring the pause of quiet routine and recognizing God’s presence in it.

Inside all the diverse moments of our lives—the failures and the successes, the joys and the sorrows—there is God’s invitation to deeper communion with us. In the first of his two letters to the Corinthians, Saint Paul reminds them that they have been “sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be holy.” It is at once a “given,” that they are holy, and a “task,” that they are to become holy. Life’s “interesting” events can obscure our spiritual vision, so that we cannot keenly perceive Jesus, “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” If we are unable to perceive Him, it is all the more difficult to be “a light to the nations” that carries salvation to everyone in our path.

Later in John’s Gospel, the Baptist declares, “He must increase; I must decrease.” This is the epitome of holiness: allowing Christ to be evident in your thoughts, words, and actions.

One Oath, One Law, One Liturgy

As the Chartering Organization Representative for our parish Boy Scout units, I subscribe to Scouting magazine.  In the most recent hard-copy issue, I read that, as of 2015, all BSA programs (Boy Scouts, Cub Scouts, and Venturing Crew) will be using the same Oath and Law, namely the one used by the Boy Scouts.  According to Bob Scott, senior innovation manager for the BSA, this initiative has been undertaken in order to standardize the language that expresses the organizational mission.

The decision was finalized last October, but the magazine has waited until the current issue to publicize it.  True to the modern M.O., the news was announced in a more timely fashion, specifically on the day of the decision, on Scouting's official adult blog.  The combox hosted an conversation about the changes; it reflected a diversity of opinions which, according to Mr. Scott, have been giving way to consensus.

And life involves contention.
Said Heraclitus, Πόλεμος πάντων μὲν πατήρ ἐστί ("Strife is the father of all things").

The decision was made after considerable reflection and consultation.  Mr. Scott compared it to the Pledge of Allegiance, which first-graders continue to recite without likely understanding its lofty concepts.  It will fall to individual scouting units to engage in age-appropriate conversations about the concepts.

The Church's liturgy permits certain adaptations for congregations mostly made up of children, such as  hymnody and approved renderings of Holy Scripture.  In the second edition of the revised Roman Missal, we had three Eucharistic Prayers for Masses with Children.  These have been omitted in the recent edition.  I have heard that new Eucharistic Prayers were still on the drawing board, but I am not certain of their existence, let alone a prospective date of release.

As with the Church, I imagine that many members of scouting would have preferred to "leave well enough alone," while others would consider the current verbiage variations not to be "well enough."  Whether there has been a significant contingent eager for change in this matter, I do not know.

My investment in Scouting is not nearly as deep as my investment in the Church, but I recognize the positive influence that both bodies intend for, and enjoy among, their constituencies.  Both aim to form bodies and spirits fit for participation in the greater community.  The language used in corporate rituals has a formative impact upon the community.  While higher-level language may be lost upon many young listeners, it may well inspire the curious ones among them to seek deeper understanding.  That was the effect of the Sacred Liturgy upon me when I was young; and to think that the language has been kicked up a few notches since then!

Now I may have been a different case--a curious one, for sure--but I never complained about an inability to understand what I was hearing in the Liturgy.  That doesn't mean I actually understood it all, or fully understand it yet; but when it comes to the Church--a divine and human institution--I tend to yield to the wisdom of the words and of their origin, eager to grow in understanding and appreciation of both.

Perhaps the standardization of the Scout Oath and Law will prompt the younger boys to "seek the things that are above" (Col 3:1).  I acknowledge the temptation to doubt that today's children are concerned about such things.  Let the flourishing of the BSA and the Church testify to the urgent yet perennial hope that wisdom must never die.

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We will soon see the influence of the collaborative process on another pressing concern for the BSA: the conscious admission of same-sex attracted (SSA) scouts and leaders.  The current organization-wide review and revision process will culminate in a decision during its National Annual Meeting (22-24 May).  The Scouting blog has revealed the organization's proposed resolution to admit SSA youths to their units while continuing to ban SSA adults from leadership roles.  (The combox for this post has nearly four times the number of comments on the subject of the unified oath; as of this writing, the score is 1,151 to 316.  This reflects a similar preference among many Catholics for discussing "hot-button" moral topics over liturgical and doctrinal ones.)

In the media statement that accompanies the blog post, the BSA states: "The proposed resolution also reinforces that Scouting is a youth program, and any sexual conduct, whether heterosexual or homosexual, by youth of Scouting age is contrary to the virtues of Scouting."  Good to know.  I was just about to add, "Hard to enforce," but the statement contains nothing to enforce and the BSA (given the current climate and the sensitivity of the issue) won't likely attempt any enforcement.  The Church, for her part, doesn't have any sort of "police" either, when it comes to people's personal religious and moral conduct.  Because so much is left to the individual conscience, conscience formation remains vitally important.

Unlike the BSA, the Catholic Church is not a democracy.  Like his successors, the current pope will not (cannot!) make changes simply to suit modern sensibilities.  A great many "policies" are rooted in the divine law and/or natural moral law, which cannot change.  Practices that originate in ecclesiastical law may in fact be mutable, but very little in the Church admits of rapid review and revision; moreover, the process of review and revision does not hold everyone's opinion with equal weight.

The Liturgy: Heaven On Earth

The Easter season is a fifty-day reminder of how good the Church has it.  At this and every Mass we participate in the liturgy of heaven.  Hear how the Book of Revelation describes that liturgy.  The Father is seated upon His throne.  The Lamb is present: the crucified and risen Christ, the Priest who offers and the Victim who is offered.  The Holy Spirit is the life-giving stream that flows from the throne, often depicted in seven rivulets that are the Sacraments.  Standing around the Trinitarian throne are all the heavenly powers, the four living beings who embody all creation, the twenty-four elders who symbolize the Old and New Covenants, and the 144,000 who epitomize the New People of God.  Notable among the sacred throng are the martyrs, Mary, the Bride of the Lamb, and those whom John described as the “great multitude, which no one could count,” clad in white robes and holding palm branches.  Having survived “the time of great distress” (otherwise known as “life”), the multitude unceasingly worships God and enjoys His protection, consolation, and nourishment.

That is the Church’s situation here and now, if we but awaken ourselves to it and strive to live in it—both in the current context of the sacred liturgy and in the mission field that we know as the home, the workplace, the school, or any other wayside shrine that God enlivens when we bring Him there.  But we can’t become the light to the Gentiles and the instrument of salvation unless we bring ourselves here, to “charge and sync” ourselves with the Source of our power: God’s Word, God’s Bread, and God’s Company.  Here is where we receive and affirm our deepest identity in Christ.  Here is where all creation finds its origin and purpose.  Here is heaven on earth!

Now, I’d have my head in the sand if I figured that all of you are totally on board with this idea.  Maybe in theory the world of time is shot through with eternity, but the events of the past week, in Boston and elsewhere, look like scathing evidence to the contrary.  And you could share with me some reasons why your lives don’t resemble the heavenly liturgy.  Me too.

It is important to remember that the Act of Faith, like every other human choice, is an act of the will that relies upon the information presented to it by the intellect.  Our aversion to suffering is natural, but it  cannot deter us from confessing the goodness of God in salvation history and in our own lives.  While there is no pat answer to the mystery of moral and physical evil, the Catechism reminds us that “God in His almighty providence can bring a good from the consequences of an evil, even a moral evil, caused by His creatures,” for Christ’s glorification and man’s redemption came about precisely by His Passion and Death (312).

All praise and thanksgiving to God for the sacred Liturgy, in which we raise up all joys and sufferings in union with our Redeemer, who in return, gives us His very Self to sustain us along life’s journey, awaiting His full coming in glory and our life in His tender embrace!