Tag: Question Box

By Father Thom Hennen
Question Box Column

Q. How should I respond to a grieving family member who wants the cremated remains of a loved one placed in a special container to be displayed in their home or incorporated in jewelry or other objects as a remembrance?

A. This comes up frequently and it seems there are many more options for this sort of thing than ever before. Losing someone is difficult and so it is certainly understandable why those who are grieving would want some tangible remembrance of their loved one. I think this speaks to a sacramental sensibility in all of us. We are body-soul creatures. We interact with each other and with the world around us through our bodies and physical senses. This is why as Catholics we don’t just sit in a quiet, bare room and think about God as our worship. Rather, we walk, sing, sit, stand, kneel, splash ourselves with holy water, anoint people with oil, use incense and offer bread and wine in the sacrifice-meal that is the Eucharist. Even Jesus cured by making mud from dirt and his own saliva and smearing it on the eyes of the man born blind, then had him wash in the pool of Siloam (John 9:6-7). He could just have easily said the word and made it so.

At the same time, the practices you mention may also reflect beliefs that are contrary to our understanding of Christian anthropology and our belief in the resurrection of the body. On the one hand, these practices might reveal a dualistic approach to human nature, seeing the person as only the incorporeal soul and the body as little more than a “container.” Even so, we knew the person through the “container,” so we might like to hold on to some aspect of their physical being.

On the other hand, such practices can reveal a kind of extreme physicalism or materialism that sees the human person as only their body or physical nature. Accordingly, if this one life and our physical bodies are all that we have, then we will cling to them all the more, even after death.

I don’t think most people want such a remembrance of their loved one to fall into either of these categories. Still, I think we need to be careful. The reason the Church insists on proper burial of the body or cremated remains is rooted in our profound respect for the body, even in death, and because we believe in the resurrection of the dead. How this will play out largely remains a mystery, but Jesus’ own resurrection give us some clues. First, it is truly a bodily resurrection. He still bears the wounds of his crucifixion and he eats in front of his disciples to prove that he is not a ghost (Luke 24:39-43). Second, his is a glorified body, not simply a reanimated corpse. This is not “Zombie Jesus.”

Catholic practice on the proper treatment of the body in death, therefore, needs to respect the integral whole of the human person as body and soul and should reflect our faith and hope in the resurrection of the body.

In March the U.S. bishops’ Committee on Doctrine published a statement entitled “On the Proper Disposition of Bodily Remains.” It addresses some of these practices, including new developments such as alkaline hydrolysis and human composting, neither of which are permitted.

As to that desire for a tangible remembrance, I think this can be fulfilled as easily and meaningfully through a picture or some other memento and with greater respect for the deceased.

(Father Thom Hennen serves as the pastor of Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport and Vicar General for the Diocese of Davenport. Send questions to messenger@davenportdiocese.org)

By Thom Hennen
Question Box column

Q:Were the two men crucified with Jesus “thieves” or “revolutionaries? There seems to be a discrepancy between the Gospels on this. Also, where did the tradition of the name of the “good thief” being Dismas come from?

First, let me say that while I took (and passed) all of the required Scripture courses in seminary, a Scripture scholar I am not. That being said, I dusted off my interlinear Greek-English New Testament and with the help of an online Greek dictionary found that, indeed, different words are used to describe these men.

Matthew and Mark both use the word léstés, which has more of the sense of a “robber,” or one who steals out in the open or by violence (as opposed to kleptés, which is more like “thief,” from which we get the word “kleptomaniac”). This word léstés is the same used in the parable of the Good Samaritan when it describes the man who “fell victim to robbers,” and so we might also think of the word “bandit.”

However, in the New American Bible translation (which is used in our lectionary), the word translates as “revolutionaries.” This is not necessarily a bad translation, as the Roman occupiers might well have considered anyone disrupting the Roman order a “revolutionary.” Also, this is the same word used to describe Barabbas, who is definitely presented as a revolutionary. The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops’ (USCCB) commentary notes that léstés can also mean “a guerrilla warrior fighting for nationalistic aims.”

Luke’s Gospel uses the word kakourgos, which most literally means “malefactor” or “wrongdoer” and usually is translated in English as “criminal.” It is only in Luke’s Gospel that we have the exchange between Jesus and the “good thief.” This should not surprises us, as Luke’s Gospel especially highlights Jesus’ heart for and ministry to those most on the margins of society. Who could be more on the margins than this man in his agony next to Jesus?

From what I could find, the tradition that his name was Dismas comes in some texts of the late 4th century. Dismas is recognized as a saint and his feast day is March 25 (sharing that date with the Annunciation). Whatever his true name, there could be no more clear “canonization” than our Lord himself telling this man from the cross, “Today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43).

Interestingly, John’s Gospel uses neither of these words, but simply says, “There they crucified him, and with him two others [in Greek, allous], one on either side, with Jesus in the middle” (John 19:18).

Q. Why is the cross the symbol of Christianity and not an empty tomb?

A. This often comes up, especially among non-Catholics who question our prominent display of crosses and crucifixes, as though we are fixated on Jesus’ death.

St. Paul writes, “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Galatians 6:14). As Christians, the cross is transformed for us. It is no longer a symbol simply of death, but of death conquered, of life in spite and even through death. I would say that displaying the cross or crucifix is, in fact, a bold testimony to our belief in the Resurrection. Otherwise, why would we be so brazen in displaying, wearing and signing ourselves with this symbol of death?

Also, symbols take on meaning by use over time. From very early on, Christians took to this symbol, likely for those reasons I have described. On a more practical level, it is a very simple symbol to draw or make with just one vertical and one horizontal line.

(Father Thom Hennen serves as the pastor of Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport and Vicar General for the Diocese of Davenport. Send questions to messenger@davenportdiocese.org)

By Father Thom Hennen
Question Box Column

Q. What is the difference between an archbishop and a bishop?

A. The simple answer is that an archbishop is a bishop of an archdiocese. Okay, smarty pants, so what’s the difference between an archdiocese and a regular old diocese? Maybe we should begin by explaining what a diocese is.

Specific geographical territories, or dioceses, make up the Catholic Church. The bishop is the head of what we call the “local Church,” made up of the individual parishes and communities in a particular territory. For example, the Diocese of Davenport is comprised of the 22 counties of southeast Iowa, stretching from Clinton to Colfax, Centerville to Keokuk and everything in between.

In some places in the country and the world, you will find dioceses in a relatively small geographical territory where the Catholic population is larger, as is the case in parts of the eastern United States. You can also have dioceses that cover a huge territory but with a relatively small Catholic population, as is the case in some places in the southern and western United States. For example, the Diocese of Cheyenne is the whole state of Wyoming.

An archdiocese is named as such by the Holy See typically due to its size, population, history and/or regional importance. In addition, an archdiocese must have at least one “suffragan see,” meaning other dioceses that it oversees (to a limited extent). Basically, archdioceses and dioceses operate in the same way and are relatively independent of each other. Archbishops and bishops possess the same rank in terms of the sacrament of holy orders. Archbishops and bishops have authority only over their own particular (arch)diocese.

In Iowa, four dioceses make up what is called an ecclesiastical province: the Archdiocese of Dubuque and its three suffragan dioceses, Davenport, Sioux City and Des Moines. However, this has not always been the case. The (then) Diocese of Dubuque was created in 1837 and covered a large territory north of Missouri, west of the Mississippi River all the way to the Missouri River and north up into Minnesota.

The first diocese in Iowa to be carved off of Dubuque was the Diocese of Davenport in 1881, covering the entire southern half of the state. Bishop John Hennessy of Dubuque apparently suggested to Pope Leo XIII that the “see” (“seat of power”) of this new diocese should be Des Moines, but the pope chose Davenport instead, which makes for an interesting historical hypothetical. What if the pope had followed Bishop Hennessy’s recommendation? At any rate, Dubuque was elevated to an archdiocese in 1893. Later, the Diocese of Sioux City was created from the western counties of the Archdiocese of Dubuque in 1902 and the Diocese of Des Moines was created from the western counties of the Diocese of Davenport in 1911.

Archdioceses and dioceses with larger Catholic populations can also have auxiliary bishops. These are effectively “helper bishops.” For example, the Archdiocese of Chicago with almost 2.2 million Catholics has seven auxiliary bishops helping Cardinal Blase Cupich. The Diocese of Davenport had an auxiliary bishop once, Bishop Edward Howard, from 1924-1926, before he was named the bishop of Oregon City (now Portland). A bishop can also be named a coadjutor bishop, meaning that he is assigned while the current (arch)bishop is in power to assist him and to immediately take over once that (arch)bishop retires or expires.

That just leaves cardinals, canons, monsignors, deans, rectors and vicars (general, judicial, forane, episcopal and parochial) to explain, but that’s for another day.

(Father Thom Hennen serves as the pastor of Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport and Vicar General for the Diocese of Davenport. Send questions to messenger@davenportdiocese.org)

By Thom Heenen
Question Box Column
Q. What does ‘INRI’ on the sign above Jesus on the crucifix mean?

A. Great question! While you might not find this on every crucifix, it is on most. It is an acronym for “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews.” In the Latin it would be Iesus Nazar­enus Rex Iudaeorum. Taking the first letter of each of those Latin words gives you “INRI.” Why “I” and not “J,” you ask? As everyone who has seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade knows, there is no “J” in Latin.

John’s Gospel recounts that Pontius Pilate “had an inscription written and put on the cross. It read, ‘Jesus the Nazorean, the King of the Jews’” (John 19:19; both spellings, “Nazarene” or “Nazorean” are acceptable). It goes on to say the inscription was written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek. The chief priests objected, “Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’ but that he said, ‘I am the King of the Jews’” (John 19:20-21), to which Pilate famously replied, “What I have written, I have written” (John 19:22). What Pilate meant by that we may never know, but the inscription, likely meant as a mockery, proclaimed truth nonetheless. On some larger crucifixes you might find the whole phrase written out in all three languages, just as mentioned in John’s Gospel.

This got me thinking about some of the other “alphabet soup” we find in popular Christian symbolism. Perhaps the most common is what looks like the letter “P” superimposed on what looks like an “X.” These are not the letters “X” or “P,” but the Greek letters “Chi” (which makes a hard “K” sound) and “Rho” (which makes the “R” sound). These are the first letters in the Greek XPISTOS, Latinized as CHRISTOS, and in English as “Christ.” By the way, “Christ” is not Jesus’ last name, but a title, which literally means “anointed one.” It is the same word we get the word “chrism” from (recalling last week’s question). The closest thing to a “last name” for Jesus would be “of Nazareth,” or “Son of Joseph,” as he is referred to in John 6:42.

Another common set of letters you will find in churches is “IHS.” This is an abbreviated form of the name of Jesus, using the first three letters of his name in Greek. Over time it also became used as shorthand for the phrase in Latin, “Iesus Hominis Salvator,” meaning, “Jesus, Savior of men,” including women, of course. The Jesuit monogram famously incorporates this and it can be found on the papal coat of arms of Pope Francis, our first Jesuit pope.

Slightly more rare, you might find what is call the “Icthys,” which would look like this in the Greek characters: ΙΧΘΥΣ. This happens to be the word in Greek for “fish,” the symbol of which was used as a kind of code by early Christians to identify themselves in times of persecution (and now found on many a car tailgate). Latinizing this some, the letters of the word Icthys in Greek provide their own acronym: Iesous Christos Theou Yios Soter, meaning “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.”

Next time you are in a church, look around and see how many of these you can find!

(Father Thom Hennen serves as the pastor of Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport and Vicar General for the Diocese of Davenport. Send questions to messenger@davenportdiocese.org)

By Fr. Thom Hennen
Question Box Column

On April 3, Bishop Thomas Zinkula will gather with the priests and deacons of the Diocese of Davenport, and the lay faithful who are able to attend, at Sacred Heart Cathedral for this ancient, beautiful and solemn liturgy. While more traditionally celebrated on Holy Thursday morning, the Chrism Mass may be celebrated on a different day prior to Easter. Given the general busyness of Triduum and the distances that many of the priests have to travel, in recent years our diocese has celebrated the Chrism Mass on the Monday of Holy Week or even the week prior, in conjunction with our annual Clergy Convocation.

In one sense, the Chrism Mass is the local Church’s annual “oil change.” Early Christian texts  describe a blessing and consecration of oils as early as the 3rd century. At the Chrism Mass the Oil of Catechumens, used in the pre-baptismal rites, and the Oil of the Sick, used for the sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, are blessed. The Sacred Chrism, used for the post-baptismal anointing, for Confirmation, for the ordination of priests and bishops, and for the dedication of churches and altars, is consecrated. In case of need, any priest may bless the Oil of Catechumens or the Oil of the Sick but only a bishop can consecrate the Sacred Chrism. The oils themselves must be plant-based (we use olive oil) and to the Chrism is added balsam, which gives it a darker color and a wonderful fragrance.

The other aspect of the Chrism Mass, as described in the Roman Missal, is that it is to be “a manifestation of the Priests’ communion with their Bishop.” For this reason, in addition to that most important sign of communion of sharing in the Eucharist with each other, the priests also renew their priestly promises. It’s not as though these promises expire and that we need to “re-up” each year but it is a powerful reminder of the commitment we made at ordination and of our connection with our bishop as “co-workers in the vineyard.”

My earliest personal recollection of the Chrism Mass is as a seminarian. The seminarians of the diocese would typically serve for this Mass and immediately following, go next door to the rectory to carefully transfer the oils from large urns to the bottles to be distributed later to the priests. Many helping hands from the chancery staff now make light work of this.

What happens to the old oil, you ask? Last year (my first at the cathedral), we bought a new metal outdoor fire pit for the Easter fire. In addition to the wood and kindling, we added the cathedral’s old oils as these should be properly disposed of either by burying or burning them. It was a noble idea. What we did not anticipate was that all of the oil would pool at the bottom. Once the fire was really going, the oil heated up and it sounded like a deep-fat fryer. Balsam-infused holy french fries anyone? As beautiful and powerful as liturgy can be, and while we absolutely believe that it is principally God’s work, it is also (literally) the “work of the people,” and this is where things can get messy.

Please pray for the bishop, priests and deacons who will gather on Monday for this solemn occasion and for all those who will be anointed with these oils in the coming year. In the words of the late and much loved Father Bill Meyer, “Merry Chrism Mass!”

(Father Thom Hennen serves as the pastor of Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport and Vicar General for the Diocese of Davenport. Send questions to messenger@davenportdiocese.org)

By Father Thom Hennen
Question Box Column

Q. What happens with prayers we say or Masses we have offered for people in purgatory if they are already in heaven?

A. This is a great follow-up to last week’s question on purgatory. The short answer is: I don’t know. I know that is not a very satisfying answer but we are squarely in the territory of speculative theology here. That also means we can “play” a little.

At the very least, I feel confident in saying that no prayer is wasted. It’s not as though St. Peter is up there tallying up prayers and saying, “Looks like we got another batch for Mrs. McGillicuddy. Too bad. She’s been in for ages!”

This brings up another point about prayer in general. While we believe that prayer is effective, we also know that not all of our prayers are answered in the way we might hope, but that doesn’t mean those prayers are “wasted.” Prayer in itself — the act of asking, thanking, praising God — is good. In prayer, we are not trying to bend God’s will to ours but in fact the other way around. For this reason, I think all good prayer should include some version of “thy will be done” or it ought to be implied at least. We find this in the “Our Father” and in Jesus’s personal prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane the night of his betrayal, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39).

We can think here, too, of the passage in Luke’s Gospel where Jesus says, “What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish? Or hand him a scorpion when he asks for an egg? If you then … know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the holy Spirit to those who ask him” (Luke 11:11-13). The fact is, sometimes we ask God for the “snake” or the “scorpion” but, thankfully, he knows better than to give us exactly what we ask for.

In one of his letters, St. Augustine writes, “Why [God] should ask us to pray, when he knows what we need before we ask him, may perplex us if we do not realize that our Lord and God does not want to know what we want (for he cannot fail to know it) but wants us rather to exercise our desire through our prayers, so that we may be able to receive what he is preparing to give us.” In his commentary on one of the psalms St. Augustine writes, “For the desire of your heart is itself your prayer.”

How might we apply this to those seemingly “unused” prayers for our beloved dead or for those prayers that are “unanswered,” at least in the way we might wish? These prayers still “exercise our desire.” They grow our trust in God and expand the heart. They are still acts of love. If nothing else, they change us and draw us closer to God.

Since we are playing, I wonder if those we pray for who are already in heaven might have some say in how those “extra” prayers and graces are applied. Maybe for other family members or for those who have no one to pray for them, those most in need of our prayers, those just on the threshold of heaven and those “last in line.” As with so many things, I guess we’ll find out when we get there.

(Father Thom Hennen serves as the pastor of Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport and Vicar General for the Diocese of Davenport. Send questions to messenger@davenportdiocese.org)

By Fr. Thom Hennen
Question Box Column

Q. Why do we pray for souls in purgatory?
A. In moments of exasperation with myself I have sometimes said to God, “If you need me to turn out the lights in purgatory, I will do it!” In other words, if I am the last person in purgatory I am

okay with that because at least I will know I am heaven-bound. I am only half-joking. Of course, I would much rather march straight into heaven but I am painfully aware of my own weakness, pettiness and attachment to sin. For me, as for most, I think something will need to happen between the moment I breathe my last and the glory that awaits the blessed. That something is purgatory.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church puts it this way: “All who die in God’s grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven” (par. 1030). Heaven is by definition a state of absolute perfection. Even if I die a good man, a good disciple, a good priest, as I hope to do (not too soon, mind you), there likely will be aspects of my life that are less than perfect. These might not merit hell but they still have no place in heaven. Purgatory is simply that state of transition in which these lesser faults are purified and any lingering sinful attachments are resolved.

However, the souls in purgatory are no less part of the one body of Christ and remain connected to us. We used to speak of this as the “church militant,” meaning those of us still “fighting the good fight” during our earthly life; the “church suffering,” meaning the souls of the faithful departed undergoing their final purification; and the “church triumphant,” meaning the saints (canonized or not) now living forever in perfect communion of love with God. Just as we can do something about those suffering in this life, we believe we can also do something to aid the “church suffering” in purgatory. We can pray for them. Again, the Catechism states, “From the beginning the Church has honored the memory of the dead and offered prayers in suffrage for them, above all the Eucharistic sacrifice, so that, thus purified, they may attain the beatific vision of God” (par. 1032). To pray for the souls in purgatory is, therefore, a generous spiritual work of mercy.

I think there are some people who have died in a state of perfection, among them many of the canonized saints of our tradition. Many of them, in a sense, did their purgatory here on earth and through their suffering became more perfectly conformed to their crucified Lord. When they died, they had largely let go of anything that would have been a hindrance to their fully embracing God’s love in heaven. I believe many people today still work out a lot of their purgatory here on earth, insofar as they unite their suffering to the perfect suffering of Christ.

Many Catholics think of purgatory as a sad, dark teaching long past its time, but to me it is a beautiful expression of God’s love and mercy. I hope that when I die people will pray for me and have Masses offered for me and not just assume that I am “up there playing pinochle with St. Peter.” I don’t know how to play pinochle, but I’m guessing St. Peter can teach me …when I’m ready.

(Father Thom Hennen serves as the pastor of Sacred Heart Cathedral in Davenport and Vicar General for the Diocese of Davenport. Send questions to messenger@davenportdiocese.org)