The Unchangeable Heart of a Faith

One of my friends is a seminarian. After more than one career, and in young mid-age, Scott has discerned a vocation to priesthood. He has immersed himself in difficult theological studies, he has studied Spanish in Guatemala by living with a family that spoke no English, and now he is spending nearly a year as an intern at a large parish in Los Angeles, to taste the life of ministering to a community of believers.
He invited a few of us from his former parish to come and hear him give the homily at yesterday's Sunday Mass at his temporary home, and assignment, St. Mariana De Paredes Catholic Church in Pico Rivera, California.

It was a gloomy day, and a particularly rainy one, with flooding everywhere. If I had not volunteered to drive, I don't know that I would not have considered taking a "rain" check on the 40 or so minute journey. preferring my closer more familiar parish and a quick return to my apartment to hunker down under a comforter. But aside from my promise, I have a soft spot for those who commit themselves to faith beyond laity and for the thoughtful process that begets the commitment and so seeing Scott speak to us as he moves toward his consecration in persona Christi. I did not want to miss this part of the transition.


The rain was still coming down as we arrived. The parking lot was, however, well filled, something, alas, not true of my West Hollywood parish on a Sunday, rain or shine. From what I could tell this area is rather industrial, and the constituency of the parish, a barn sized cinder block building, appeared to be hard working class, family, an equal merging of children, young, middle aged and older clearly long time members. It was a meat and potatoes parish, reminding me a lot of my childhood parish in the Bronx, Christ the King. In some ways, I have become a little grand as a dweller in the heart of movie industry-dom, in a parish full of Hollywood types, single adults, with only a spattering of kids, scenic designers, producers, the odd character actor, writers and wanna be's. Our parish is small and neat, maybe 1000 all tolled, where in this parish we are talking over 6,000 and one mass after another to accommodate the full occupancy of each. This was a buzzing place.


At my parish, I haven't seen a guitar in the nearly 30 years I have been a member. And I have to admit, that makes me quite content. I always thought that the liturgy lost something when the music became haphazardly folksy. But that bias admitted, I have to say that the little group of young people with guitar and keyboard and well crafted harmony was reverent AND joyous and I found myself joining the hymns I recognized. I found myself watching the wriggling families and the coughing elders being eyed suspiciously by their pew compatriots.


Scott actually comes from a farming family in Scotland, so when he was talking of Jesus' admonition to the apostles, and so to us, "Feed my sheep", he was talking literally and figuratively. And when he distributed communion, he and a deacon, both near our way back pews, I was taken by how much love there was in their giving of the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Christ. They were smiling, with reverence, but smiling nonetheless as each person came toward them, touching, with the sign of the cross, those too young to receive or those who did not find themselves ready to receive.


What came to me watching these men is the wonderment of the reality that with all the external differences from one parish to another, organ versus guitar or keyboard, expansive serious or relaxed ritual, rich, middle class or poor in attendance, ethnicity, size of the crowd, for all 1.18 billion Catholics the world over, the heart of the faith is identical. We say the same prayers (and will continue to do so as some of words have been retranslated to accord with the language from whicih they come; I admit I like that we go back to "Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault" in the Confiteor) which have the same meaning for one and all in accord with Tradtion, the Scripture and Apostolic guidance.


Whatever the debates by rationalistic man (and woman), it is hard to read the words of St. Clement of Rome (consecrated it appears by St. Peter himself) in his letter to the Corinthians and not recognize something that is at its core properly unchangeable. Christ died (and rose) around 33 A.D. This was written circa AD 60-70.

"The Apostles preached the Gospel to us from the Lord Jesus Christ; Jesus Christ has done so from God.  Christ therefore was sent forth by God, and the Apostles by Christ.  Both these appointments, then, were made in an orderly way, according to the Will of God.  Having therefore received their orders, and being fully assured by the resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and established in the word of God, with full assurance of the Holy Spirit, they went forth proclaiming that the Kingdom of God was at hand.  And then preaching through countries and cities, they appointed the first fruits of their labors. . .to be bishops and deacons of those who should afterward believe. . . ."

Scott is following in a sacred order both in role and in the succession of time that was preached in the same century in which Christ lived, died and was resurrected. Truly, it is awe-some in the traditional sense of the world. Worthy of awe indeed.