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May 2011


May 18


Catholics are once again embracing meatless Fridays

May 18, 2011

Fish’n’chips, anyone? It’s either that or, given the preponderance of Indian takeout in England today, vegetable samosas and prawn curry for Catholics on Friday come this fall. Last week the Catholic bishops of England and Wales decided to bring back Friday abstinence from meat, an initiative of potentially enormous significance. The abandonment of Friday abstinence was one of the great pastoral blunders in history, a self-inflicted neutering of Catholic identity and an assault on our own tradition. Its restoration marks a sign of increasing Catholic confidence and common sense. According to the universal law of the Church, all Fridays, save for those which coincide with solemn feasts (e.g. St. John the Baptist this year), are days of abstinence — no eating meat. But the Code of Canon Law permits the bishops of various countries to modify the rule. Most countries did just that some 40 years ago, saying that while the obligation to do penance held, each Catholic could choose for himself what that penance might be. The upshot was that Friday communal penance disappeared almost entirely. Not completely — I often eat at the cathedral in Kingston where, like many religious houses, there is no meat on Fridays, and at our chaplaincy activities at Newman House the students themselves are attentive to Friday abstinence. Yet most Catholics don’t observe it, and several generations may not have even heard about it. In England, the noted historian Eamon Duffy, a self-styled Catholic liberal, called for the return of Friday abstinence in 2004, writing in the flagship journal of all things Catholic and trendy, The Tablet. “Friday abstinence in particular was a focus of Catholic identity which transcended class and educational barriers, uniting ‘good’ and ‘bad’ Catholics in a single eloquent observance. Here was a universally recognized expression of Catholicism which was nothing to do with priests or authority,” he wrote. The trend of abolishing distinctive marks of Catholic identity now seems dated. In 1967, when getting rid of compulsory Friday abstinence, the English bishops wrote: “While an alternative dish is often available, it is questioned whether it is advisable in our mixed society for a Catholic to appear singular in this matter. Non-Catholics know and accept that we do not eat meat on Fridays, but often they do not understand why we do not, and in consequence regard us as odd.” By “odd” the bishops of the day meant “different,” and by different, they meant not Protestant. In a desire to fit in, to seem less, well, Catholic, the English bishops made themselves, in fact, less Catholic. Today though, any Catholic serious about his faith wants to be different from the toxic culture in which he lives. Being different is helped by doing things differently. The spiritual purpose of Friday abstinence is a communal penance to recall the Lord’s passion, but as a marker of Catholic identity it is far more needed now than 50 years ago when it was universally observed. Friday abstinence gives us a chance for mutual encouragement and public witness. Invited for dinner on Friday? It permits us to mention ahead of time that we don’t eat meat — an indirect way of saying that my Catholic faith is important, and that I am not ashamed of it. After all, if one can proudly announce that one doesn’t eat beef because bovine flatulence is causing climate change, abstaining from meat in recollection of the redemption of the whole world seems reasonable enough. And if the world should think us odd? We then find ourselves in the tradition of St. Paul, who was willing to be thought a fool for Christ. Moreover, the far greater danger is that the world does not think us odd for being Catholic, given what the world considers normal. In recent years, the practice of voluntary Friday abstinence has become more prevalent, especially among younger Catholics who are precisely seeking a greater sense of Catholic identity and for ways of bringing their faith into their daily lives. Friday abstinence is a relatively easy way to give witness at work, at school and even in the family. It’s not a terribly great sacrifice, if at all. As a boy I looked forward to Friday dinners as the aforementioned prawn curry and other fish and seafood dishes were my favourites. It can pinch at times, but at least a pinch of penance needs to be part of every Christian life, especially on Fridays. The new primate of Canada, Archbishop Gérald Lacroix of Quebec City, wears a small fish hook pin on his lapel. It’s a symbol of the new evangelization; he’s a fisher of men. Fish on Friday can be a wider reminder too of who we are and our evangelical mission. (Fr. de Souza is the pastor of Sacred Heart of Mary parish on Wolfe Island and chaplain at Newman House at Queen’s University, Kingston, Ont.)


Charles Lewis: Finding a home away from home at Madonna House

May 18, 2011

Catherine de Hueck Doherty [images/stories/international/internation11/catherine-de-hueck-doherty.jpg]Four years ago I was working on a story for the National Post about young women who enter the religious life. I wanted to speak to women who had just become nuns or were considering a vocation. Once I found them I was going to ask them the same question their friends and family would have asked: Why? Why give up an independent life? Why give up sex, marriage and children? Why let your education go for naught? It was suggested I talk to someone at Madonna House, a religious community located in Combermere, Ont., about 300 kilometres north of Toronto in the Madawaska River Valley. I assumed I was being directed to an order of nuns — because where else would I find young women who had decided to lead a life of poverty, chastity and obedience? I went to their web site to find out a bit more but was left confused by what I read. Better put, I could not easily slot it into a simple, known category. It described itself as a “family of Christian lay men, women and priests, striving to incarnate the teachings of Jesus Christ by forming a community of love.” The late Catherine de Hueck Doherty, a Russian baroness who fled the communists, and whose cause for canonization is now under way, founded the community more than 60 years ago. Before coming to Combermere, she had set up friendship houses for the poor in Harlem and Toronto and along the way befriended the likes of Dorothy Day and Thomas Merton, the author of The Seven Storey Mountain. Along with her husband Eddie, a famed Chicago journalist, she envisioned a new kind of Catholic community that defied traditional definitions. The members all take promises, similar to vows, but the women are not nuns and the laymen are not monks or brothers. More unusual too was the idea that men and women would take vows of chastity but work, eat and pray together. I would not have been surprised to discover a backwoods Catholic cult consisting of lost souls and drifters. The first morning I arrived, Susanne Stubbs, one of the community’s three directors, met me in the parking lot. At that moment a stream of people was moving along one of the dirt paths to the chapel for vespers. It was a cool morning and most everyone was dressed in jeans and plaid shirts. Inside was an array of icons lit by a natural golden light while most of the Madonna House residents found a place on the floor to kneel or sit in contemplation. I am not sure I have ever experienced such a deep silence among so many people. After vespers everyone walked to the main dining room for a simple meal of porridge and brown bread. The conversation was lively and I felt completely welcome, as if I were an old friend. Soon after the residents went off to the myriad jobs — the farm, publishing house, sorting room for donated clothes — that have kept Madonna House running. Eventually I found my interview subjects, two wonderful young women who again defied categorization. Suffice to say they were bright, self-aware and open to all my questions, the same questions that had been asked by bewildered family and friends. They were also educated and understood that life offered many possibilities but this is what they wanted. They chose Madonna House, instead of a traditional order, because it spoke to them of a holy life they had always been reaching for but could never put into words. I eventually got my story but by the time that I began my drive back to Toronto I knew I had fallen in love with the place. I assumed at first this was an infatuation — a result of spending a few intense days among such wonderful people. But it turned out to be a greater sense of love than I could have ever imagined. I have been back to Madonna House several times. Each time I go I feel closer to the people there and have the sense that I found a home away from home. (Charles Lewis writes about religion for the National Post and is the editor of the paper’s religion site, Holy Post.)


Deacon Peter Doyle: Remember the words ‘Thou shalt not kill’

May 18, 2011

People react to the death of Osama bin Laden in Times Square in New York early May 2. The al-Qaida leader was killed in a firefight with U.S. forces in Pakistan ending a nearly 10-year hunt for the mastermind of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks on the United States. (CNS photo/Eric Thayer, Reuters) [images/stories/international/internation11/binladendeadcelebrations.jpg]Marshall McLuhan’s global village and our modern electronic media were in full evidence on the first weekend of May when, within about 48 hours, millions watched the sacred nuptials of Will and Kate, more millions were in the Vatican or watched on television as beloved pontiff Blessed John Paul was beatified and then on Sunday night we, along with some 56 million Americans, watched as nine American television networks broke away from their regular schedules to air President Barack Obama’s nine-minute speech on the killing of Osama bin Laden. I took with me to bed that night four remarks from the president: a) on becoming president, Obama said he would “make the killing or the capture of Osama bin Laden a priority,” (b) “to bring him to justice,” (c) “after a fire fight they killed bin Laden” and (d) “justice has been done.” After his speech I was not prepared to take to the streets like millions of American did to celebrate the killing of one of the worst terrorists of recent times. I reflected on the events of the weekend, and as the week unfolded I saw the facts surrounding the killing of bin Laden change several times. It now appears that the U.S. Navy SEALs never intended to take bin Laden alive. He was not armed or reaching for a rifle during the raid, as reported, and certainly it was never the intention to take him to the U.S. for trial. Judaism and Christianity share the Ten Commandments and for over 3,500 years the fifth commandment has been clear and unambiguous: “Thou shalt not kill.” History shows that it has been one of the most abused commandments. Graveyards are filled with corpses who suffered at the hands of those who disobeyed this commandment. Our Bible records the first killing, that of Adam and Eve’s son Abel by his brother Cain. The Church teaches that all life is sacred from the moment of conception to natural death. God alone is the Lord of life from its beginning until its end; no one can claim for themselves the right to destroy another human being. The Church does recognize some special circumstances, such as legitimate defence, just war and others, but in my view none of those are applicable to bin Laden’s killing. Blessed John Paul coined two phrases during his pontificate: “the culture of life” and “the culture of death.” He used the “culture of life” phrase to describe our way of life based upon the theological truth that human life at all stages from conception through natural death is sacred. The phrase “culture of death” was used to describe all that opposes the “culture of life,” such as abortion, murder, suicide, unjust wars, cloning, euthanasia, embryonic stem cell research and some others. In his book Crossing the Threshold of Hope Blessed John Paul wrote that “for man, the right to life is the fundamental right . . . the right to life means the right to be born and then continue to live until one’s natural end . . . As long as I live, I have the right to live.” Several days after bin Laden was killed, film producer Michael Moore had an interesting take on bin Laden’s death. He was quoted as saying that as an American citizen with faith in America’s justice system, he believed bin Laden should have been captured and taken to the United States for trial. “We have lost something of our soul in this country — maybe I’m just an old-school American who believes in our judicial system,” he said. I think Moore is right that America may have lost something of its soul that day. In these difficult times we need to redouble our efforts to build a world of peace and a culture of life. On the Sunday morning of bin Laden’s death, the Gospel from Luke told the story of Doubting Thomas. Jesus said to His followers three times, “Peace be with you.” That same day, at the beatification of Blessed John Paul, we were reminded of the words from his first homily in St. Peter’s Square: “Be not afraid.” As John Paul wrote in Crossing the Threshold of Life, “These are not words said into a void. They are profoundly rooted in the Gospel story. They are simply the words of Christ Himself.” (Deacon Doyle is office manager with The Catholic Register.)


Alone, afraid and longing for family reunification

May 18, 2011

Wafi Shara shows the bullet she was struck with during an attack on a Baghdad church. (Photo by Michael Swan) [images/stories/canada/canada11/bulletiraq.jpg]TORONTO - Wafi Shara lived through the attack on Baghdad’s Syriac Catholic cathedral Oct. 31, 2010, but the bullet Italian doctors removed from her leg still holds her captive. Shara spends all day in a tiny, two-room apartment in midtown Toronto praying, crying and wishing to be reunited with her brother Wafi Youssif. The damage to her leg has left her with limited mobility. She’s in a strange city with few friends, working hard to improve her English. While her brother would prefer to come to Canada, United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees staff are recommending him for the United States. Youssif is now trying to decide whether to remain in Jordan and hope someone in Canada can sponsor him, going back to Baghdad where he fears for his family’s safety or going to the United States where he knows no one. In Toronto living on about $600 a month, Shara carries with her the fears that became part of life in Baghdad as the city descended into rounds of violence and sectarian cleansing of neighbourhoods. She asked us not to photograph her face for this article. As she lay wounded underneath a pew in Our Lady of Salvation Cathedral, Shara saw her niece Raghda escape into the vestry. Shara thought perhaps her niece had been smart to get out of the main part of the church. In the end, Raghda was the only one of about 50 people crammed into the vestry who was killed. Shara now finds herself in the country her niece dreamed about in Baghdad. The 61-year-old single Shara finds it a bit cruel that she is now in Canada in her niece’s place. “She is the bridge for me to come to Canada. She wished to come to Canada,” said Shara. The former school teacher lived with her brother in Baghdad and helped raise Raghda. Separated from the city she once loved and from almost all of her family, Shara wants nothing more than to be reunited with her brother. “I am alone here. I live alone. I want him here with me.” With her wound still fresh, Shara was evacuated from Baghdad to Italy for surgery and physiotherapy. There she met with Pope Benedict XVI before Canada stepped in to sponsor her as a refugee. Until and unless she has her brother back at her side, safely here in Canada, Shara remains in limbo — the journey still not completed and so many left behind.


May 19


May 20