Tag: Question Box

Q. Please explain what is required to obtain the indulgence for the First Fridays devotion to the Sacred Heart. I have read that you need to be in a state of grace. Does that mean going to confession each month?

A. First, it may be helpful for our readers to briefly explain what an indulgence is, as some may be unfamiliar with the concept or believe that this is something the Church no longer practices.

An indulgence, as defined in the “Catechism of the Catholic Church,” is “a remission before God of the temporal punishment due to sins whose guilt has already been forgiven, which the faithful Christian who is duly disposed gains under certain prescribed conditions through the action of the Church” (para. 1471). Indulgences, therefore, are connected with our understanding of purgatory, that state of final purification after death before entering heaven.

Recognizing that all analogies limp, here is one helpful analogy I have heard. Suppose you broke your neighbor’s window while playing baseball. Hopefully, you would go over to your neighbor’s house, explain what happened and apologize. Your neighbor may graciously forgive you, but there is still the matter of the window to be repaired. Your neighbor may ask you to replace it, which might mean doing some extra chores to earn the money to repair the window or paying them back in kind by raking their leaves or offering to watch their dog when they are away. The sin (carelessly, if not intentionally, breaking the window) is truly forgiven, but something still needs to be “worked off.” An indulgence is basically the lessening or elimination of that “temporal punishment” or that “working off” that needs to be done in purgatory.

The faithful may do many things to obtain an indulgence, under the usual conditions of going to confession, receiving Communion and praying for the intentions of the pope. The other, more tricky, condition is that the person is “to have the interior disposition of complete detachment from sin, even venial sin” (“The Gift of the Indulgence,” Apostolic Penitentiary, 2000). This means that the person is to be in a “state of grace” (i.e. unaware of any unconfessed mortal sin) and detached from sin. The person is not complacent in his or her sinfulness but recognizes (however small) that it is an offense against God. It is the sentiment expressed in the Act of Contrition in the words, “I detest all of my sins.”

The First Friday devotion may also be worth explaining. This goes back to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque (1647-1690) and the visions she had of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The idea is to observe nine consecutive first Fridays of the month by participating in Mass and receiving Communion in reparation for the sins against the Sacred Heart of Jesus. There are a number of promises attached to this devotion. The usual conditions for all “indulgenced acts” would apply here, which to my mind would include monthly confession, at least if necessary.

I should also explain that an indulgence may be “partial” or “plenary.” A partial indulgence is the remission of some of the temporal punishment due to sins, whereas a plenary indulgence is the remission of all temporal punishment due to sins.

One final note: while doing various things or praying specific prayers to obtain indulgences is time-honored and well established in the Church’s theology and practice, I think we always need to be careful not to think that we can “force God’s hand.” God is not a “gumball machine,” in which we put our quarter and turn the crank to get what we want. All is grace!

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

Q. Recently, I visited a Catholic church in which the tabernacle was located in a side chapel. I felt an emptiness not seeing the tabernacle in the main church. Am I too hung up on this and missing the bigger picture?

A. There may be nothing more frightening for a priest than to tiptoe into the minefield of the “tabernacle wars” — but here goes nothing!

Some think that the tabernacle must absolutely be central in any Catholic church. Anything less is seen as a slight to our Lord, truly present in the Most Blessed Sacrament. Others will say that the tabernacle shouldn’t be anywhere near the sanctuary because it steals focus from the altar and the actual celebration of the Eucharist. I have also heard people make a distinction between the “active” presence of Christ in the celebration of the Eucharist and the “static” presence of Christ in the Eucharistic species. Personally, I don’t know how the living God, the second person of the Holy Trinity, can be anything but actively present. In any case, I think both are wrong.

So, what guidance do we have from the Church on this? The “General Instruction of the Roman Missal” (most recently revised in 2011) states: “In accordance with the structure of each church and legitimate local customs, the Most Blessed Sacrament should be reserved in a tabernacle in a part of the church that is truly noble, prominent, conspicuous, worthily decorated, and suitable for prayer.” The tabernacle may be “in the sanctuary, apart from the altar of celebration … not excluding its being positioned on an old altar no longer used for celebration” or it may be “in some chapel suitable for private adoration and prayer of the faithful and organically connected to the church and readily noticeable by the Christian faithful.”

The keys here seem to be that the tabernacle should be located in a place that is noble, prominent, worthily decorated, suitable for prayer, organically connected to the church and easily noticeable. As long as these criteria are met, I think it is in the right place.

Some years ago I remember reading an intentionally “fake news” story on a Catholic humor website with the headline: “Man goes to Halloween party dressed as tabernacle; is promptly placed in the corner and ignored.” I have never been very convinced by the argument that the presence of the tabernacle in or near the sanctuary/altar necessarily “distracts” from the Mass. How can Jesus distract from his own sacrifice? To me that is like saying, “Jesus, do you mind waiting over there? We’re trying to celebrate Mass.”

At the same time, I am not in the camp that the tabernacle must always be central in the sanctuary. Much of this depends on the particular architecture of the church. My rule of thumb is not to get in a fight with a building; the building always wins. In an older, more traditionally laid out church that was built with the intention of having the tabernacle in the middle, that may indeed be the most fitting placement. Why fight that, only to replace it with seasonal decorations? Is that any less distracting? At the same time, in a more modern church that was designed with the option of a separate (but hopefully conspicuous and beautiful) chapel, why try to shoehorn a tabernacle into the sanctuary that was not designed for it? In all cases, I think we want to avoid the tabernacle moving from place to place within the church as pastors come and go, depending on their personal preferences, in which case perhaps a tabernacle on wheels would be most convenient.

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

By Fr. Thom Hennen
Question Box

Q: Can you explain the understanding of salvation from canon 9 in the Council of Trent?

A: If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me this, I would have 5 cents. For starters, what is the Council of Trent? It is one of 21 “ecumenical councils” in the Catholic Church, in which the bishops of the world (the successors of the Apostles) gathered to discuss matters of faith. The result of each of these councils was the formal affirmation, clarification or further definition of some aspect of the Christian faith.

The first ecumenical council was the Council of Nicaea, held in 325 to address the heresy of Arianism and what we believe about the divine and human natures of Christ. The most recent ecumenical council was the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965). Prior to Vatican II, ecumenical councils were more about doctrine, less about pastoral practice. Vatican II was called specifically as a “pastoral council.” While the council documents are loaded with doctrine, the primary concern was how we live and apply what we believe in a rapidly changing world.

Canon 9 from the Council of Trent (convened over multiple sessions between 1545 and 1563) states: “If anyone says that the sinner is justified by faith alone, meaning that nothing else is required to cooperate in order to obtain the grace of justification, and that it is not in any way necessary that he be prepared and disposed by the action of his own will, let him be anathema [excommunicated].”

We need to remember that the Council of Trent was convened to address the Protestant Reformation, which had a huge impact on the Church in Western Europe. The rallying cry of Martin Luther (a former Augustinian monk) was sola fide, meaning “faith alone.” Luther and other reformers held that one was justified (made right with God) by an interior act of faith alone and not by a person’s good works or moral choices.

We should also remember that the Protestant reformers were reacting to abuses within the Church and an attitude that had crept in that you could earn (or “buy”) your way to heaven. To be perfectly clear, this was not and is not an accurate understanding of Catholic soteriology (theology of salvation). Much of what we thought we disagreed on has in part been reconciled, for example in the 1999 Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification, which was the product of Catholic and Lutheran dialogue. While not accepted by all, this document states that we are justified “by grace through faith.” Also, faith means something more than mere intellectual assent. As the Apostle James wrote in his letter, “Faith without works is dead” (see James 2:14-26).

Back to Canon 9: basically, it is stating that we do not believe that by faith “alone” we are restored to right relationship with God. How we act on that faith, how we live that faith matters. We can accept Jesus one moment and deny him the next, by word, thought or action. We absolutely believe that we have all been redeemed (“bought back” or ransomed) by the precious blood of Jesus, who died for our sins and truly rose from the dead. We also believe that we are immersed in this saving mystery by our baptism. And yet, we are not stripped of our free will. We can still reject this gift. To be “saved,” therefore means to accept this gift not just once, but in some sense daily, in our concrete choices and cooperation with the gift of God’s grace.

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

Q. What is the origin of meatless Fridays during Lent? Why is it considered a sacrifice? Also, what do you think about Sundays in Lent? Can those be “cheat days” when it comes to our Lenten resolutions?

A. Great questions — and timely! From my research, the practice of abstaining from meat on Fridays (especially in the weeks leading up to Easter), goes back to the earliest days of the Church. The practice became more standardized over time but the idea of not eating the “flesh meat” of animals (beef, pork, poultry, etc. as distinguished from animal products and from fish) to commemorate the day of Jesus’ crucifixion and death is certainly ancient.

In some ways I think this may be even more of a sacrifice today than it was then, as many of us are accustomed to eating meat most every day. However, in the ancient world, except for perhaps the wealthy, meat was far from a staple food. It was a luxury. An example of this might be in the “Parable of the Prodigal Son” (Luke 15:11-32), when the father in the story orders that the fattened calf be slaughtered for a special feast upon his son’s return. It is clear that this was hardly an everyday occasion, but only for a great celebration.

Given this, I wonder if asking people to give up meat then would be like asking people today to refrain, if at all possible, from drinking champagne and eating escargot. “Fine. I suppose I can manage that.” Not much of a sacrifice, but the idea is that in honor of our Lord’s ultimate sacrifice our pleasures should be more sparing on Fridays. It is not that we forget the resurrection but that we always carry the memory of Christ’s passion and death — in which he laid his own flesh down on the altar of the cross as the “Lamb of God.”

I do wonder if all-you-can-eat fish fries or dining sumptuously at your favorite seafood restaurant really keeps the spirit of this. Don’t get me wrong, I do love a good parish fish fry during Lent (even if I have to burn my clothes when I get home), but again, the idea is to unite ourselves even in some small way to this saving mystery.

As to holding to our Lenten observances even on Sundays during Lent, I would say that if you are taking up some new spiritual or charitable practice, by all means keep it up on Sunday! It can be hard to build a strong habit if you are regularly skipping days. However, when it comes to giving up something, I would play this by ear. My first rule of thumb for people in deciding what they should give up for Lent is that their penance should not become everybody else’s penance. In other words, if giving up coffee turns you into an unbearable person for 40 days, then drink your coffee and find a different penance. In the same way, if indulging a little on Sunday is what it will take to get you through Lent, I wouldn’t let it bother you too much. It is still true (even in Lent) that every Sunday is, in a sense, a “mini-Easter.” In addition, the Sundays of Lent are not actually counted in the 40 days of Lent.

Again, we need to keep in mind the principle underneath these practices, namely, to become more Christ-like people, to develop good habits (virtue) that might actually go beyond Lent, and to express our solidarity in some small way with Christ and with the poor. It is the least we can do, so pass the tartar sauce!

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

By Fr. Thom Hennen
Question Box

What is the Church’s teaching on why only Catholics can receive the Eucharist?

It is a very reasonable question to ask why we would ever want to withhold something that we believe is so good — indeed, Christ himself — to anyone who desired this great gift. At the same time, either the very act of receiving Communion means something or it doesn’t. As Catholics we believe it does mean something. It is more than receiving Jesus sacramentally. It is also a kind of “oath” we are making to God. That is what the Latin word sacramentum means. Our Communion is an embodied statement of our Catholic faith, not only in the true presence of Christ present in the Eucharist but of our full communion with the Catholic Church.

In my parish ministry, I have been asked occasionally about the Church’s policy on “open Communion,” that is, if all are invited to share in the Eucharist. This especially comes up in the context of weddings and funerals. I usually have a good idea of what I am dealing with from the moment I say, “The Lord be with you.” If the gathering responds with awkward silence, then I know.

In this case, before the Communion Rite I will often make a short announcement such as, “At this time I would invite those who are practicing Catholics to come forward to receive Communion. Those who are not Catholic are welcome to come forward for a blessing if you feel comfortable doing so. And let us pray for greater unity among all Christians.”

When I have more opportunity beforehand to explain this, I try to appeal to a person’s sense of personal conscience and religious liberty. Suppose, instead of inviting someone up to Communion I ask them to repeat after me a statement of belief affirming their Catholic faith and relationship to the Church. Put this way, people who might have frowned on the Church’s “exclusivity” start to realize that, out of deep respect for them, we do not just say “come one, come all!” We never want to put someone in the position of making a statement he or she is not truly prepared to make.

We walk with our catechumens and candidates who are coming into the Church for the better part of a year or more to prepare them to make that statement, first in their baptismal promises or profession of faith and then in their first Eucharist. Why would we go through all that trouble if it really doesn’t matter? What does it say about their efforts and journey to the faith?

I love watching travel shows, in which awkward outsiders visit interesting, far-away places and encounter the people, their food, culture, customs and religious practices. Often the host is not particularly religious and yet will participate in religious ceremonies that, personally, I would find problematic. They go along with it, as though it were perfectly innocent or just the polite thing to do. Maybe the people who are putting them up to this don’t have any qualms about inviting them to participate (for example, to make some ritual offering to a local deity), but again, either this means something or it doesn’t, and for us as Catholics it means something.

In the end, it is true that “all are welcome.” And yet, they are welcome to something, something real, not vague or meaningless. They are welcome after proper preparation and disposition to a life in full and joyful communion with the body of Christ!

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

Q: When I pray the Angelus, before the third Hail Mary, as I say, “And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us,” I often find myself gently striking my breast. Is this correct?

A: To my knowledge there is no rubric or custom of striking the breast as we recite this verse (John 1:14) as part of the Angelus prayer. It is customary to bow one’s head at this line. It could be that you picked this up from your family or other Catholics. However, the gesture is not without precedence.

There are times when we are instructed in the liturgy to strike our breast, albeit in a different context. At Mass when we use the first form of the Penitential Act called the Confiteor (for the first word in the Latin prayer meaning “I confess”), the faithful are instructed to strike their breast at the words, “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.”

Interestingly, the rubrics say nothing about the number of times a person is to strike his or her breast but most people instinctively do so three times. The rubrics also say nothing about how precisely one is to do this, whether open-handed or close-fisted, or how hard. Occasionally, I have seen some people forcefully strike their breast with a fist, hard enough to hear the thump. In my opinion, this is a little overkill for a gesture that is simply meant to signify repentance, not corporal punishment, and it calls more attention to the person than to God’s mercy.

The other instance I can think of when someone is instructed to strike his or her breast is for the priest during the first Eucharistic Prayer (the “Roman Canon”). This happens towards the end of the prayer when he says, “To us, also, your servants, who, though sinners, hope in your abundant mercies….”

I have also seen people strike their breast three times at the end of the prayer “Hail, Holy Queen,” when they say, “O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary,” but it is neither prescribed nor forbidden.

In summary, I don’t think it is wrong that you do this but it is also not necessary. It has obviously developed as a part of your own piety, which is a beautiful thing. If doing this makes you think more about the mystery of Our Lord’s incarnation, then by all means keep it. If, on the other hand, it distracts you from that mystery and makes you think more of yourself or your own piety, then I would drop it.

One of the things I love about being Catholic is that we pray with our whole bodies!

Q. Do Catholics ignore the Old Testament when teaching doctrine?

A. The short answer is, “no.” If we did, then we probably would not have included the Old Testament in the accepted canon of Sacred Scripture. There was a heresy in the early church (Marcionism) where some wanted to do this but it did not prevail, thankfully. If you pick up your Bible at home, you might notice that most of it is the Old Testament. We believe the Bible in its entirety to be the inspired word of God.

At the same time, the Church interprets the Old Testament in light of the coming of Christ and what we believe is the definitive fulfillment of God’s covenant with humanity. There are many practices that can be found in the Old Testament that we no longer observe but fundamentally we believe what our Jewish brothers and sisters believe about God and we follow Jesus of Nazareth, who himself was a Jew.

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

Q. With Christmas falling on a Monday this year, can I count Christmas Eve Mass on Sunday for both my Sunday and Christmas obligation?

A. Sorry to say there is no “two-for-one special” on this one. The Fourth Sunday of Advent is distinct from Christ­mas. The Sunday obligation holds. You may either attend an anticipated (vigil) Mass for the Fourth Sunday of Advent on Saturday, Dec. 23 or go to a morning Mass for the Fourth Sunday of Advent on Dec. 24. You may then fulfill your obligation for Christmas that evening at any of the anticipated Masses or the following morning on Christmas day.

You may even technically fulfill your Sunday obligation (for the Fourth Sunday of Advent) by going to one of the Christmas Eve Masses (before midnight). However, you must then fulfill the Christmas obligation by going to Mass the following morning, Dec. 25. The obligation is tied to time not text (prayers, readings, etc.). In other words, the Church says you must attend Mass every Sunday and holy day of obligation but does not say you must hear the proper readings or prayers for those celebrations. However, liturgically, that is more ideal. We shouldn’t skip the Fourth Sunday of Advent just because it happens to be the day before Christmas. The Fourth Week of Advent is the shortest it can be this year, just a matter of hours, but it still exists.

“So, are you saying we have to go to Mass either twice in one day or two days in a row?” In a word: yes. But, let’s think about this some more.

Our faith often “inconveniences” us. In a way, it is meant to do so. It is meant to “mess” with our lives, to get us out of our comfortable rhythm. Also, let us not forget the many places in the world where, sadly, people cannot easily or freely go to Mass either because of a lack of priests, long distances to travel or because the Church is being actively persecuted.

When I was on retreat last month, the retreat director shared a story of a woman in Mozambique who had lost her legs due to a land mine explosion. Nonetheless, she would crawl, dragging her legs through the hot sand, two miles to get to church. Here’s the kicker: she was not yet Catholic. She said her greatest desire was to receive the Eucharist! Naturally, once this was discovered, the community arranged for her to be brought to Mass. She was baptized and received into the Church. To think of the lengths that she was willing to go to attend Mass should give us pause when grumbling about our “obligations.”

When we think of the word “obligation,” we should think less of a burden imposed from the outside and more of a deep interior need. Think of the old expression, “Much obliged!” This is another way of saying, “Thank you!” We give thanks to God not because we “have to,” but because we need to. As we say in every Mass: “It is right and just.”

What about Jan. 1, the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God? The Church has given us some latitude on this, at least in the United States. Often when a holy day of obligation (other than Christmas) falls on a Monday, the bishops dispense with the obligation. There will still be Masses on Jan. 1 for the solemnity, but the obligation is dispensed. Even so, what better way to start the New Year than going to Mass and asking for the prayers from our Blessed Mother!

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

Sunday obligation
The obligation to attend Mass applies to the day, not the Mass being celebrated or the texts used. For Sundays and solemnities, the observation of the liturgical day runs from 4 p.m. of the calendar day before to midnight of the day itself — a period of 32 hours. For example, attendance at a wedding Mass after 4 p.m. on Saturday would fulfill the Sunday obligation. Likewise, if a parish celebrated the Ritual Mass of Confirmation on Sunday, the obligation would be fulfilled. Ritual Masses are not permitted on the Sundays of Advent, Lent and Eastertime.
Back-to-back obligations occur only when Christmas and the Immaculate Conception fall on a Saturday or Monday. Situations arise, of course, in which fulfilling Mass obligations on consecutive days is either impractical or impossible for an individual or a family. The Church allows parish pastors to “grant in individual cases a dispensation from the obligation of observing a feast day or a day of penance or can grant a commutation of the obligation into other pious works.” The dispensation must be for a just cause and is subject to regulations laid down by the diocesan bishop. Members of the Catholic faithful who can only attend one Mass to fulfill their obligations (whether that of Sunday or of the holy day) should speak with their pastor to seek alternate accommodations.