I’ve Been Saying This For Years

It’s shocking!

You know how only a third of Catholics believe in the Real Presence?

Well, they don’t.

By which I mean: It isn’t true that only a third of Catholics believe in the Real Presence.

That’s a myth that got created due to thee things: (1) a pollster using a poorly worded questions that didn’t correspond to Catholic teaching, meaning that Catholics responding to the question weren’t sure how to answer it in a way that reflected their faith, and so the pro-Real Presence vote got split among several different categories. (2) Those reading the results of the poll didn’t pay careful attention to how the question was worded and what the implications were for how the different categories had to be pieced back together to get an accurate indication of belief in the Real Presence. (3) The general desire to lament how bad things are these days led people to read the results in terms of a staggering crisis of faith.

And so for years the idea has been floating around out there that only a small number of Catholics actually believe in the Real Presence, despite the fact that it isn’t true.

Now, I’m happy to concede that not enough Catholics believe in the Real Presence. 100% of them should. I’m also happy to concede that not enough Catholics understand the Real Presence in the manner articulated by the Church (transubstantiaion). Some have views that are fuzzy on that point, and bad catechesis is a key factor in that.

But the numbers are nowhere near as bleak as people make out.

And now there’s a new study (by the National Catholic Reporter folks, of all people), that backs this up. Fr. Richard John Neuhaus writes:

81 percent say that “belief that Jesus is really present in the Eucharist” is essential in their understanding of the Catholic faith. Keep in mind that the survey is of a cross section of the 65 million Catholics in the U.S. (although Latinos are greatly underrepresented). Among the more highly committed Catholics, it is reasonable to assume that belief in the Real Presence is considerably higher than 81 percent. This is worth keeping in mind because some years ago a clumsily worded question in a survey came up with the conclusion that only one third of Catholics believed in the Real Presence, and that “finding” still crops up in discussions on the state of Catholicism. Among active Catholics, belief in the Real Presence, as also in the Incarnation, the Virgin Birth, and the Resurrection of Jesus, edges up toward unanimity.

GET THE STORY.
(CHT to the reader who e-mailed.)

Winding Up to a Conclusion

Rockwell_connoisseur
(Note; I use the word "abstract" in this post as a synonym for
"non-representational" art, that is, art that doesn’t depict or
represent any object. In truth, all visual art involves abstraction,
but I use the word here as a less cumbersome way of saying
"non-representational" – T.J.)

The topic of this post (at my blog Old World Swine) brought me back to a series I authored
here at JA.O , on how I understand modern abstraction in
terms of where it fits in the broad movement of art history.

In retrospect, I see that project was too great a stretch for a
layman and average schlub like myself. I have absolutely zero credentials as either a philosopher or art
historian. I am a working artist (Masters Degree, thanks) not that widely read
or traveled. What I can do is talk very honestly about art from my own
non-expert perspective and hope that this becomes a useful bit of grist
for the mill. I’ll begin with a little background that might help explain
why it has taken me so long to finish this series of posts.

A commercial art client with whom I worked for years had a very large abstract painting hanging in his office. It was dreadful
– the kind of thing one would buy at a discount furniture store – a mass
produced vomitous mess of cream and "earth tones". It was bad in every
way that a painting can
be bad. The abstract equivalent of a black velvet Elvis.. I saw this
painting off and on for years, and one day the undeniable bad-ness of
it got me thinking; I
had seen a lot of other abstract paintings that were much better than
this one. If they really were better, I thought, what made
them better? If we can talk at all about "bad" and "good" abstract art,
that almost proves there must be something worthwhile in the good abstract art, doesn’t it?

Where I had been all set to consign abstract art to the dustbin, I
decided to hold off and rethink my position. I mulled things over for
quite a while, and ended up reaffirming my first intuitive response to
abstraction (that it is a subset of decorative art), while at the same
time developing a genuine appreciation of abstract art in its proper place.
I can now say that there
are a number of pieces of abstract art that I think are successful,
interesting, even engaging… just not what I consider to be great art,
for reasons I’ll get to in the next post. One of the things great art does is move
the viewer, and I have never once been moved by a piece of abstract art. I don’t see how that works.

There is, of course, the real possibility that I may just be missing
something, that I am a thick-skulled, irrecoverable rube – what C.S.
Lewis called a "trousered ape" – who simply lacks the imagination, the
emotional depth and psychological complexity to plumb the mysteries of
abstract art. That’s fine. I’ll admit the possibility… but it’s not
for lack of honest effort.

I have looked at and thought hard about abstract art for years. In
some circles – circles I occasionally run in – verbalizing a lack of
sufficient enthusiasm or appreciation for abstract art is a social
blunder on the level of making fun of the handicapped – much worse, in
fact (in the latter case, one could always pull a Mel Gibson and claim
it was the booze talking). This is just not something a sophisticated
and civilized person is ever supposed to sayparticularly an artist. It will
change what people think of you. It will cost you work and connections
and references. I once knew an art history professor who was denied
tenure partly because (he seemed certain) he had spoken well of Norman
Rockwell.

I’m convinced that many people, especially in the art world, never
say what they really think about abstract art because they are keenly
aware of the social stigma attached to such opinions. They are
frightened to death of being shut out and denied opportunities, of
being thought of as ignorant hicks. But it is only by moving beyond
this stigma and speaking plainly that we can begin to have a real
conversation and honestly evaluate the benefits and detriments of the
modernist movement in art, which began over one hundred years ago. We
are in a unique position in history (the information age) that allows
us to calmly and rationally toss out the bad and retain the good when
it comes to the visual arts. We need desperately to get about this
work.  We need especially to develop an aesthetic of beauty that
resonates with the modern world. That is our job as artists.

Next – my thoughts on the good and bad of modern abstract art.

He’s Everywhere!

Chesterton4Old World Swine, at it again;

As other Catholic bloggers have ably pointed out, presidential hopeful
Mike Huckabee, in his victory speech
after the Iowa primary, quoted – and cited – G.K. Chesterton. Okay, technically he misquoted Chesterton, but not badly. It was still heartening to hear.

Any time I see GKC gaining influence in the world, I count that as a
good thing. So I was delighted to see him popping up in a book I was
given recently, written by Evangelical author Ravi Zacharias.

The book – Can Man Live Without God (Thomas Nelson)- was a Christmas
gift from my sister and her husband. They would describe themselves – I
think – as Bible Only, non-denominational Christians, or (in their
view) just basic Christians. My brother, a pastor who’s church they
attended for some time, maintained that this faith was not even
Protestant… that it was just plain meat-and-potatoes Christianity and
had nothing at all to do with any historical Christian "movement" of one
stripe or another. He truly believed this.

I was a little leary of the book, therefore. But, one of the things I
have hoped to accomplish this year is to read more, and seeing as they
were thoughtful enough to give me the book, I was only too happy to read it.

Mr. Zacharias got my attention right away by mulling over the lyrics of
King Crimson, one of my favorite bands (although I prefer their later
work – Discipline more than Court of the Crimson King).
He waits until chapter 8 to begin quoting G.K. Chesterton, but he
returns to him more than to any other Christian source – several
times throughout the book – as well as drawing heavily on Malcolm
Muggeridge and C.S. Lewis.

Few, I think, would have their mind changed one way or another by
reading this book. Zacharias says nothing new, which is fine by me (I
saw on television a Christian ministry that advertised their
charismatic leader had "a message unlike any other in the Christian
World!" – exactly what we don’t need). What Zacharias
manages is to pull together a quick survey of the most dominant
philosophical voices of the twentieth century (that is to say, atheists
of differing flavors), outlines the major defects of their thought and
its disastrous consequences for society, and gives voice to the most
able defenders of Truth. He straightforwardly presents Christ as the
answer to all of man’s deepest longings.

I think Francis Schaeffer did a more thorough job of dissecting atheist
philosophy and the ills of modern society (from this perspective) than
does Mr. Zacharias. The book is too brief for him to be very
philosophically rigorous, but he does provide a workable introduction
to these broad ideas and their historical background for those who are
not already familiar with them. He quotes Nietzche, Kant, Descartes,
Huxley, Bertrand Russel and the like from the Life is Meaningless side,
and refutes them using Chesterton, Lewis, Pascal, Muggeridge and others
(including contemporaries like Norman Geisler and Peter Kreeft). He has
good language for Mother Teresa (Mr. Zacharias is of East Indian
heritage) and St. Augustine, and takes no overt jabs at the Catholic
Church. The book is forwarded by Charles Colson, a friend of Catholics
(or as some would have it, a dirty rotten Papist sympathizer).

On the whole, I was very cheered that the book drew from such sources
(especially Chesterton, of course). It ought to make any observant
reader want to read both Chesterton and Muggeridge. It also gives me a
terrific opportunity to pass on some of Chesterton’s writing, from
which the world can only benefit.

Have others noticed Chesterton’s thought beginning to loom large on
the Christian horizon? Is sanity breaking out here and there? Are
post-modern, post-Protestant Christians ready now to hear what he has
to
say?

Guard Against Euphoria

Huckabeeobama(
From my blog, Old World Swine);

Guard, too, against seeing THIS very much as a defeat of the status quo
– we are still looking for differences between the several "men in
frock coats" (as Chesterton called them) with whom we have been
presented. There is still plenty of time, too, for these fresh faces to
be corrupted by the Will-to-Power brokers inside the beltway. That is a
gauntlet I wouldn’t want to run. Pray for these people… they will be
tested and tempted in every way imaginable.

Interesting, to me, how the press are in a tizzy to put this all
behind as fast as possible and focus on New Hampshire. Interesting,
also, how the GOP is reported to be in confusion and disarray as a
result of the Iowa primary, but everything in Democrat land is – one
would think – just hunky-dorey.

I’m looking for stories of Hillary’s amazing comeback starting as early as next week.

Deafness and the Church

When I saw the headline on Zenit "Accommodating the Deaf," two thoughts flashed through my mind: (1) This has got to be one of Fr. Edward McNamara’s liturgy columns and (2) I wonder what Ed Peters’ response will be?

The first thought came from past experience in decoding Zenit headlines. The second came from the fact that Ed Peters is a canonist with particular knowledge of the deaf community and the Church’s relationship with it.

I was pleased, then, when I got an e-mail informing me of this piece on Ed’s blog in which he interacts with Fr. McNamara’s column.

Dr. Peters finds significant fault with Fr. McNamara’s column, and rightly so.

I won’t repeat all of Ed’s critiques of the column here, but Fr. McNamara was clearly writing out of his depth on this topic. He gave a well-meaning, off-the-top-of-his-head answer to the questions posed to him without displaying  familiarity with the relevant Church documents (e.g., papal documents giving permission to sign the Mass).

Ed doesn’t point this out in his response, but spending even a few minutes looking in the indices of common reference works would have turned up the very documents that Fr. McNamara needed.

Ed’s piece does a good job surfacing problems with Fr. McNamara’s column. It also raises a couple of issues on which I’d like to add a few thoughts.

1) One of the subjects Fr. McNamara treats is whether parishes should provide closed captioning of the Mass. Ed makes the point that this would not be preferred because, while deaf people might read the captioning, they could not give the proper liturgical responses in captioning, whereas they can give the responses (e.g., "And with your spirit") in sign.

This is a good point. I would add another reason why captioning would not be preferred. As Ed mentions, there is no agreed upon way to write American Sign Language or other sign languages (yet). The captioning that a parish could provide thus would default to whatever the local vernacular language is (e.g., English, French, Spanish).

The problem is: Giving deaf people captions written in English is not giving them captioning in their own language.

American Sign Language, despite its use in America, is not English. It has different grammar and different vocabulary. It may have certain loan elements from English, just as English has loan elements from French and German and Latin and Greek, but it is not English any more than English is one of its cognate languages.

While there are efforts, like Signing Exact English, to exactly represent English in signed form, this is not the standard language in the deaf community in America. American Sign Language is.

Deaf people may have different levels of skill in reading English, just as English speakers may have different levels of skill in reading Latin, but giving them captioned English is not the same as giving them translation into the vernacular sign language.

2) Fr. McNamara was also asked by his correspondent about the possibility of deaf people entering convents, monasteries, and religious life. In answering, Fr. McNamara focused substantially on the question of whether deaf people could be ordained to the priesthood (which is not the same thing, since one can be in a convent, a monastery, or religious life without being a priest).

Fr. McNamara makes the point that some individuals have physical limitations that prevent them from holding certain occupations, which is true, though he is unfortunately detained by the idea that the priesthood involves a great deal of time listening to people, before ultimately concluding that this is not an insurmountable barrier to the priesthood.

Ed points out the problems with Fr. McNamara’s answer here (e.g., there are a lot of deaf people out there who don’t have anyone to "listen" to them due to lack of priests skilled in sign languages), but I would raise a question in this area.

It doesn’t actually concern whether deaf people can be ordained to the priesthood. As Ed points out, the former canonical prohibition on this has been removed from the law and there are, indeed, people who are deaf and who have then been ordained (as well as hearing people who were ordained and then lost their hearing).

My question concerns not ordination and deafness but ordination and something that often goes along with deafness: muteness.

For someone to be ordained to the priesthood, he should be able to validly perform the functions of the priesthood, including the celebration of the sacraments. Indeed, if someone where physically unable to perform these functions it would raise a question (in my mind, at least) about the validity of his ordination, just as the antecedent, total, permanent, and incurable inability to perform the marital act would imply the invalidity of a marriage.

Now, the sacraments involve the use of certain formulas ("This is my Body . . . ," "This is the cup of my Blood . . . ," "I baptize you . . . ," "I absolve you . . . " etc.)

Christian Tradition has established that these formulas do not have to be delivered in a particular language. They can be in Aramaic, Greek, Latin, French, English, Russian, Igbo, or thousands of others. But all of those languages have something in common: They’re spoken.

Sign languages are not spoken, and we may here have a relevant difference.

If we look to the requisite matter of the sacraments, we find that there are restrictions on the types of matter, within broader categories, that can be used. Baptism has to be done not with any liquid but with water. The Eucharist must have not any food and drink but wheat bread and grape wine.

We might find that similar limits exist regarding the kind of language that is used in the forms of the sacraments. It might not make a difference what specific tongue you say them in–any more than it matters what kind of wheat or what kind of grape you use–but it might be necessary that you say them in a tongue–a spoken language.

If so then there would be a problem ordaining someone to the priesthood if that person is incapable of vocalizing at least the sacramental formulas needed for validity.

This is an area that I don’t think the Magisterium has yet entertained. Individual bishops may have ordained deaf people–who may have varying degrees of muteness–to the priesthood, but I don’t think that the Magisterium as an entity has yet considered the question of whether spoken language is required for sacramental validity–at least I am unaware of any place where it has weighed in on the issue–and I could see it going either way on the question.

“One of the Benefits of Marriage is Divorce”

Before this next post, I just want to say – in reply to some inquiries – that I believe Jimmy is just fine. He has had some projects in the works and has found blog time harder to squeeze in, but he has not dropped into a wormhole, as far as I know. It isn’t even like we talk every week, but I’m pretty sure that if he had been eaten by a rhinoceros in broad daylight, I would know by now. Everything’s cool.

And now to return to your regular programming… this from Old World Swine;

"One of the benefits of marriage is divorce"

…just as one of the perks of casual sex is that it gives you the
chance to try some of these nifty new herpes treatments (they look so
cool on the commercials – yeah, we’re livin’ the herpes lifestyle).

In addition, one of the most exciting things about driving is the
possibility that you’ll get to find out first-hand what an air-bag
deployment is really like, instead of watching it on Mythbusters. I
haven’t experienced it yet, but every day brings new possibilities.

Really… you can’t make this stuff up. The headline quote
is genuine, and reflects the extent to which the secular world is
willing to tie itself into pretzels to deny that natural law exists.

One thing I think you will see play out in gay divorce court is that
one partner (probably the biological parent, if there is one) will
argue that gay marriage is legally invalid.

Theotokos

From my blog Old World Swine;

Songangelsl
Tomorrow – January 1st – is more than just the beginning of a new
calendar year in the West. It is, much more significantly, the Solemnity of Mary the Mother of God.

The USCCB site gives the SCRIPTURE READINGS for the day.

From the Council of Ephesus, 431 A.D. –

"We confess, then, our lord Jesus Christ,
the only begotten Son of God perfect God and perfect man of a rational
soul and a body, begotten before all ages from the Father in his godhead,
the same in the last days, for us and for our salvation, born of Mary the
virgin, according to his humanity,  one and the same consubstantial
with the Father in godhead and consubstantial with us in humanity, for
a union of two natures took place.  Therefore we confess one Christ,
one Son, one Lord. According to this understanding of the unconfused union,
we confess the holy virgin to be the Mother of God because God the Word
took flesh and became man and from his very conception united to himself
the temple he took from her"

Blessed Christmas

I have been hunting around the internets for some truly great nativity paintings. Doing any kind of internet search involving the word madonna requires an iron stomach, but I did find a few I want to share. I discovered (again) how truly difficult such paintings are to pull off. Even the masters struggled with the subject, in my opinion. By far, most nativity paintings I wouldn’t care to hang on my wall. Some of these can be viewed at the Art Renewal Center. You can also by a high quality reproduction of anything in their vast online collection.

God bless all on this Holy Day.

Franz Von Rhoden
Rohden_franz_von_gerburt_christi_2

Raphael’s Sistine Madonna
Madonnasistine

Sassoferrato
Sassoferratto

Wm. Bougereau
Bouguereau2

No “There” There

183403_2Tim Jones, here. From my blog, Old World Swine;

The painting at left, by Italian artist Angelo Casciello is an illustration that is part of the new lectionary approved by the Italian bishops. Sandro Magister comments;

The Italian bishops’ conference has entrusted the illustration of the
new Lectionary to thirty contemporary artists, with their styles. It’s
the first time that a liturgical book has been associated with modern
images. An audacious undertaking – and one immediately criticized

I have tried to find a clearer version of this piece of art online, but
so far have been unsuccessful. I would like to see it better so that I
can do a more fair critique. I realize there might be objections to
critiqueing the piece in this format, but right now it is all I have to
go on.

I also Googled up the websites of the other artists named in the
Magister article, and they all seem to be pretty well within the same
broad stylistic milieu.

Where to begin?

Let me just say what this painting is not; It isn’t beautiful, it
isn’t technically accomplished, well composed or evocative.
It probes none of the human experience of the event it depicts (the healing of the man born blind), and it
utterly fails to draw the viewer in or make them care about seeing it
again.

It is not really a work of art. Like so many modern abstract pieces, it
is a placeholder representing the idea of a work of art. There should
be a little rectangle in the middle with the words "place artwork
here". What this painting is, is easy. The shame of it is, there are
probably many living artists in Italy who could have provided, even in a very simple format, art of beauty and depth.

Now, of course, there will be those who will counter that they like
this piece and find it terrific in all kinds of ways, but I can only
respond in advance that lots of people liked disco, too. I would like
to hear explained why and how this is a good painting. To fall back on
"beauty is in the eye of the beholder" is a cop-out. There is certainly
a subjective element to beauty, but that is not nearly the end of it.
Some things are really beautiful and some things are really ugly, to
the point of making mere opinion superfluous. This is why people drive
as fast as they can through Nebraska to get to Yellowstone Park, and
not the other way around. Sorry, Nebraska. I give thanks for you every
time I open a bag of tortilla chips, but there is just not much to look
at there.

According to Catholic News Service, there are a number of translation
and typographical errors in this new Italian lectionary… so many that
they are issuing a set of corrective adhesive stickers to cover them
all. One wonders if they could not issue a new set of illustrations
in the same way.

GET THE STORY.