Poor Saint Ansgar

When I was in Seminary, I remember the other guys laughing once in a while about those Optional Memorials on the Liturgical Calendar which no one, until then, had ever heard about. Quite a few Saints get left in the shadow of wildly more popular Saints and the practices associated with their Holy Day. It’s almost like that hymn “For All Your Saints Still Striving”, when it talks about Saint Bartholomew: “We know not his achievements, but know that he was true.” Quite a few Saints meet that category, especially the more obscure martyrs and evangelists that went all over the world, their memory having faded from the minds of men, but ever fresh in the mind of God.

I recently had cause to visit another parish in another part of the country, and I met a very fine, kind Priest from Nigeria who was the new Pastor there. He lamented the fact, and I witnessed it with my own eyes, that the mostly elderly, retired crowd was dead-set on making sure they got their St. Blaise Day blessing for throats, but, in a stroke of consummate irony, bluntly stated to him when he asked about the blessing of candles on the previous day: “We don’t do that here.” The reason why? “It takes too long.” Apparently, they had brought his predecessor to heel on that matter, even going so far as to schedule a Memorial Mass concurrently with the Mass of the Presentation.

This experience made me quite sad, if only because it meant, selfishly, that I did not get to enjoy the fulness of the rites of Candlemas. Less selfishly, I lamented the fact that these poor souls were so liturgically and spiritually unengaged that they demanded the very blessing of the subsequent day without knowing its source or its meaning. As liturgical scholars have written in the past, one of the hallmarks of the Roman Rite is its brevity. The Latin Rite in and of itself, even taking into account concepts like progressive solemnity and the annoying tendency of the new liturgical books to add readings from Scripture to everything, does not typically lend itself to extended prayers. The orations of the Mass tend to be succinct; things like the Gloria are largely considered Gallican additions to the Roman Rite. Although some people may complain about the length of the Roman Canon, among the ancient Eucharistic Prayers/Anaphora, there is little doubt that it is a great achievement in its brevity and its rich spirituality. Truly, prayers need not be long to be good. And it is perplexing how selective some people are with what they are willing to tolerate in terms of seeming impositions on their time and routine: Ash Wednesday is perhaps the finest example of an annual mass neurosis to perform a ritual which, in some, borders on the pathologically superstitious.

This brings me once again to the inspiration for this small essay; Poor Saint Ansgar. If the Presentation is poorly celebrated, that poor man’s commemoration in the Church is almost completely erased by the popularity of Saint Blaise and the blessing associated with his feast. Many Catholics lack liturgical formation. This problem is widespread, and is directly attributable to the lack of zeal and interest from some of the clergy and lay faithful. The Church, like her Founder, is a master teacher and knows human nature quite well. Since time immemorial, our efforts to evangelize have adeptly utilized the human love of merriment to make our faith and the cycle of the Church’s festivals attractive and, quite frankly, fun. Our liturgical and paraliturgical celebrations play a crucial role in this wider effort of the Church to draw people into her orbit and that of Christ.

Perhaps this is more a problem in the traditionally Protestant United States, which is largely populated by a-liturgical ecclesiastical communities, but I also see it in Latin America and in Latin Europe. Saint John’s Day on June 24 is largely marked by the lighting of bonfires and the setting off of fireworks, especially in historically Catholic Spain. Yet, much like the celebration of Christmas has been secularized, so too, all too often, have these charming celebrations in honor of the Saints. Perhaps a misplaced joy is as dangerous as no joy in life; the Church has always given us reason for our rejoicing, both to remind us that we are a religion incarnated in time, space and human culture, and to teach our easily deceived sensibilities what holy joy is. We do not celebrate bacchanals as the heathens do, whose levity and freneticism only barely conceal their undergirding nihilism. We celebrate real people, real achievements, real glories of Divine Mercy in a deeply troubled, fallen world.

The problem of “Poor Saint Ansgar” I think can be treated if more Priests and Lay Faithful make a conscious effort to patronize and encourage intentional and communal merrymaking, in union with the Church’s liturgical calendar. Not only does this help us engage our faith, it also opens the doors to the social and communal ties which can make a local Church community so loving and vibrant. As is well known, one of the major sources of attrition in our parishes occurs when the community does not see a purpose for sticking around beyond mere sacramental obligation. In these places, the Priest is the “sacramental magician,” as some have called it, and the people are customers for a product, albeit a putatively sacred one. The Priest may be an excellent preacher and the music may be exquisite, but without those relationships forged in the context of our Eucharistic Unity and that of our faith, it is very difficult for the average person to get a sense of a living, breathing Church. This is another reason why a good Catholic school, especially a Parish School, can be such a powerful tool for evangelization. Most people bond with one another over shared experiences, perhaps even more than shared beliefs, which tend to be abstract. In the context of these shared communal experiences, a pastor of souls has a golden opportunity to teach, guide and put a human, friendly face on both the Church and her ministers.

In addition to creating more opportunities for people to come together, another suggestion I propose, and a more concentrated one, is for Priests and Deacons to take special time to interact with people whom we can identify as leaders and ‘influencers’ among the broader population. Something I know I have done is to have “Coffee and Catechesis” with my catechists on Sunday mornings, a time to pray and share, but also to teach on a pre-planned part of the Catechism of the Catholic Church, in order to give the teachers the benefit of formal theological training, which most of them lack, and also to build the bonds of friendship and trust which make volunteering and contributing to the work of the Church appealing and welcoming. It is a real treat to be able to share Christ and the Church with the people you know will have a ‘value added multiplier’ throughout the entire parish, let alone the wider community.

Let’s say that you, dear reader, are a layman in a Church with a nearly non-existent social life. Perhaps the Priest is an severe introvert, or profoundly disinterested, or simply overworked and does not make time for these little engagements. It only takes one person with a pot of coffee and a few folding chairs to start something really powerful. As an aside, non-American readers, please excuse our addiction to coffee, as I recognize that almost all these reflections involve some form of caffeination. The late Bishop Fulton Sheen himself even said:

“The average American is physically, biologically, psychologically and neurologically unable to do anything worthwhile before he has a cup of coffee. And that goes for prayer too. Even sisters in convents whose rules were written before electric percolators were developed would do well to update their procedures. Let them have coffee before meditation.”

Bishop Fulton Sheen, The Priest is Not His Own

As Lent draws near and the Church enjoins us more to fast than to feast, let us never forget that it is precisely in these penitential seasons that she makes pains to remind her children that we must always rejoice, in conformity with the imperative of Saint Paul: “Again, I say to you, rejoice!” When looking at the early church as depicted in the Acts of the Apostles, many people marvel at their unity, their charity and their zeal. It’s far too easy to attribute this to their superior spirituality, and the freshness of the Holy Spirit’s anointing. Yet something natural is at work, before we resort to supernatural reasons for our explanation. The fact is that early Christians loved to be together, and not only for the celebration of the Eucharist. As the Epistle to the Hebrews likewise recently encourages us “[Forsake not] the assembling of yourselves together, as is the habit of some…and [do so] all the more, as you see the day drawing near.” (Hebrews 10:25) If anything, the inspired author sees this as more necessary, as this age draws near its end. If this is what the ‘synoholics’ mean by “accompaniment” and “walking together”, I can only respond by agreeing with enthusiasm. The Church is a family, and like any family, or any relationship, it cannot grow if we do not intentionally spend the most precious resource we have: the gift of our time. So let’s remember Poor Saint Ansgar, and pass the coffee one more time.