Monthly Archives: February 2022

Very, said an 18th-century pope:

Pope Benedict the Fourteenth, alarmed at the excessive facility wherewith dispensation were then obtained, renewed, by a solemn Constitution, (dated June 10, 1745,) the prohibition of eating fish and meat, at the same meal, on fasting days.

The same Pope, whose spirit of moderation has never been called in question, had no sooner ascended the Papal Throne, than he addressed an Encyclical Letter to the Bishops of the Catholic world, expressing his heartfelt grief at seeing the great relaxation that was introduced among the Faithful by indiscreet and unnecessary dispensations.

The Letter is dated May 30th, 1741. We extract from it the following passage:

The observance of Lent is the very badge of the Christian warfare. By it, we prove ourselves not to be enemies of the Cross of Christ. By it, we avert the scourges of divine justice. By it, we gain strength against the princes of darkness, for it shields us with heavenly help.

Should mankind grow remiss in their observance of Lent, it would be a detriment to God’s glory, a disgrace to the Catholic religion, and a danger to Christian souls. Neither can it be doubted . . . that such negligence would become the source of misery to the world, of public calamity, and of private woe.

To be noted is the language of the day by a pontiff of the day, this warfare business and the like. But equally noteworthy is that “detriment to God’s glory,” with focus on what’s owed God as opposed to our familiar focus, on what’s good for us.

The new liturgy since after Vatican 2, for instance, leaned over backward to inject language and ritual intended to provide an increased “pastoral” focus, which is not missing from this pope’s message, to be sure.

Nor is what’s owed God missing from today’s official church utterances, while the day-in and day-out tenor and tone and language implies, I think, a more social-service mentality.

Aka Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, where we have in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus talking:

“To you I say,
love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,
bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.

Another hard saying from the Lord and Master. We groan at it. He sees the reluctance and asks, “Will you also go away?”

To which our bewildered, self-serving, self-correcting, “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.”

That so? Not so sure, we add, “I believe, Lord, help thou my unbelief.” The best we can do at the moment.

He seizes the moment: “Thy faith hath saved thee. Go thou and sin no more.”

The whole package. We walk away like the base-runner who just stole second, index finger pointing up.

Not our call anyway, as each of us knows. But can’t wait for heaven? Now you’re talkin’. Very important Christian thought that is.

Purgatory part of the deal, yes, offering a goad to good performance and not to be dismissed. But we need more than a goad, which is where heaven comes in? I think so.

In motivational terms, we’re talking about here. High praise for something to say it works for us, no? Yes.

So let’s not forget the joy to come when, cleaned up for the experience (purged), we cash in, if you pardon the earthy expression.

In omnibus respice finem, Fr. Kemper, young Jesuits’ spiritual father in olden days, used to say. Consider the end whatever you’re doing.

Or as the young Jesuit John Berchmans made his motto centuries before, Quid hoc ad aeternitatem? How does this make sense — whatever you’re doing — in view of the afterlife?