Father Dwight Longenecker over at Standing on My Head reflects and opines on what he refers to as the "healthy and creative tension" between the horizontal and vertical aspects of a life of faith.

Surely, the recent context that he gives the consideration is important, but it's more certainly a tension that extends all the way back to the birth of the Church after Christ rose from the dead.

It's not really a chicken-or-the-egg type of consideration, of course, since the vertical love of God and acceptance of His grace is a necessary precursor to true horizontal love of fellow man.  In this situation, we really do know which came first, if only through our natural intuition.

In my garden, it would be silly for me to say "This year, I am only going to plant vegetables, because it is more important for me to focus on serving a temporal need (of food) and sharing them with my fellow man."  Conversely, it would be silly for me to say "This year, there will be no vegetables in my garden. I wish to focus on the beauty and extravagance of my flowers and let them elevate my thoughts to God. My neighbor in need of food and help will just have to wait until next year."

Likewise, the Church isn't fully "the Church" without both aspects of faith in a constant yin and yang.  And thus, as Father (and many before him) rightly points out, we have the cross - with its crossing beams, one in the vertical and one in the horizontal, as a perfect example of the intersection of vertical and horizontal love.

I don't buy the classification of "conservative" or "progressive" (or "liberal") in generalizing those who tend toward the vertical or the horizontal.  But I do see a strong push toward the horizontal in what evolved out of (and within) the celebration of the Novus Ordo after the Second Vatican Council.  And, of course, what we've been "missing" in our worship is a steadfast, forced, focus upon the vertical.  It's certainly there - just consider those who prayerfully whisper and exclaim "My Lord and My God!" at the sacrifice.

But the horizonal is certainly most predominate in many places - just consider the sheer quantity of parishes where holding hands during the Lord's Prayer isn't just encouraged, but has become the norm.  If you will, just after the moment of consecration, we've taken a very vertical moment in the movement of our liturgy and forced a (not in the rubrics, I might add) very horizontal moment upon it.  This, of course, just moments before the vertical acceptance of Christ and His Father in the beautiful prayer he taught us is to be rightly followed by the horizontal sharing of that love with others in the Sign of Peace.  We've really forced the horizontal onto the vertical and perhaps even diluted the subsequent horizontal, in fact, as a result.

But then again, aren't we called to find ways to bring the old and the new together... to mix the vertical and the horizontal in every moment of our faith?  To be a Church and a people always at the intersection of those two expressions of true love?  That is what he means by the "healthy and creative tension."  For it's not in the finger-pointing and the disparaging of one "camp" or the other that we find the unity, peace, and love that Christ prayed for.

As the Church brings forth and encourages the fullness of the liturgy as has always been intended - and was surely intended to be made even more beautiful by the fathers of Vatican II - let's pray for unity and respect for both sides of this fence.  For the old and the new.  For the vertical and the horizontal.

Matt 13:52: "And he replied, "Then every scribe who has been instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old."

Yesterday I happened across a posting over at American Papist showcasing two new, well-produced videos from St. John Vianney College Seminary (St. Paul, MN.)

I'm eager to share it because it shows what life in a college seminary is really like.

What isn't it?  It's not a "priest factory." It's not a place that's automatically going to make you a priest.

What is it?  It's a college... a real college campus.  It's a place where men can attend college and fully live the liturgical life of their faith (much more like in the previous generations of Europe than in the "ordinary" American college experience circa-2008.)  It's a place where they can be focused on their God and their love and service of fellow man.

Some great quotes from the young men in the video...

"The Holy Spirit works in you and makes you a man."

"When we grow in virtue, when we grow closer to Christ, we don't become less of who we are, but we become more of who we are."

The videos give you a full sense of what the experience is like - from beautiful worship to college studies to athletic activity to sacramental living, reflection, service and discernment.  It also tells the truths of the hardships that men discerning the priesthood face - in particular and admittedly, in their own words, the challenge of living celibacy and chastity.

Please join me in saying a prayer for the young men here and for the young men who may be good candidates to go to college here and for the growth of good and holy men to be our next priests and fathers.

Don't miss any of either video... and if either of them hiccups, just refresh this page and try again... 

As I mentioned on Wednesday morning, Suzanne and I were heading to the rectory on Wednesday night to see an initial/launch presentation of the "preservation/renewal program" for the cathedral that our diocese is launching, for which they're attempting to raise funds.

I went into the meeting quite curious about the project and the presentation regarding the funds they're seeking to raise.

As had been made clear on the diocesan website, the total goal of the campaign for the cathedral renovation is $11 million, of which $5 million is being sought from across the diocese at large in the coming months.

The representative for the campaign from the diocese was very nice and the video (DVD) presentation that she brought along for use in the parish was well-done, all things considered.  It was striking to see the historical perspective of what the cathedral has gone through from its construction to today.  For example, I hadn't really realized (although I knew when the cathedral was built) that it was completed as our nation entered the Great Depression.  So the sacrifice that those who went before us in the diocese made to see it to completion seem even greater in that perspective.

The truth is, we do have a very beautiful cathedral.  We've been blessed with that.  And we certainly should contribute to its upkeep and maintenance.

But Suzanne and I aren't sold on the rest.  There wasn't any clarity around exactly WHAT the plans for the renovation include.  And quite frankly, with the relatively "loose" liturgical (and otherwise) track record in our diocese, I don't know that I want to give that much toward this effort without more clarity around the actual preservation of elements of the cathedral as opposed to "re-doing" things.

Add to that the fact that we're in the midst of a $150,000 capital campaign in our own parish to add an assembly area to the front of the church and the $75,000 that our parish has been asked to contribute to the diocesan project is a bit scary.

That said, the jury is still out... it'll be interested to see how our fellow parishioners respond in the coming months as the program and effort is fully pushed within the parishes.

Not much was accomplished in the garden today, since I started out the day getting Thomas and myself ready and taking him with me to the grocery store.  We were in dire need of a cart-full of produce, some formula for bottles for Matthew, and eggs.  The eggs contributed to a breakfast of french toast (one of our favorite weekend breakfasts.)  Then I headed out to do some catch-up work before a meeting that Suzanne and I had at Father Pat's rectory about Why Catholic. Then Mass, then I made a spectacular (if I do say so myself) dinner of lime-garlic-catfish soft tacos with fresh guacamole, chipotle salsa, and lettuce, served with a side of black beans.  Then Thomas and I went for some boys' time at Starbucks. He sweet-talked them (through many "food, please... food, pretty please, sugar on top..." trips to the counter) into some free samples of food that made his night.  Then I brought him home just in time for Suzanne to feed and put Matthew to bed while I bathed Thomas and put him to bed.

But even though I had a busy Saturday, the plants keep doing their thing... the spaghetti squash sprouts are just starting to poke through the soil and every one of the varieties of lettuce keep growing like weeds.  I imagine that within a week (or not much more) I'll have to figure out a way to move the lettuce outside in a protected way.

The bird feeders in the side yard provide a real treat in the yard.  Suzanne has really started to fall in love with the smaller birds that head for the bird feeder further out with the thistle seed.  She's commented on them several times.  Thomas loves the big birds that come to the feeder closer to the dining room window.  I've started to notice a rhythm in the times of day that the birds come to feed.  It's almost as if they actually have set "meal times" that they drop by and visit during, and they surprisingly fall closely in line with our own meal times.  Call me crazy, but it at least seems that way.

Today the Church celebrates "Divine Mercy Sunday", a beautiful feast that's relatively new in the Church's life (although it's been going on for several years in various localities, it was just made a part of the Universal Church's life in 2000 when Pope John Paul II declared it as such.)  It's a beautiful thing, in my opinion, to reflect - on the Second Sunday of Easter - on the boundless mercy that Christ has on all of mankind.

Also making this weekend special is the fact that this is the weekend that the Church proclaims the Gospel of "Doubting Thomas" - the Gospel (and Father Doody homily) of which led us to name our oldest son "Thomas."  Of course we look at it from the point of view of the faith that Thomas exhibited in his proclamation of "My Lord and my God!"  (And the fact that he was actually the only apostle who wasn't scared into locking himself in the upper room.)  But I suppose that's another entry for another day...

Via WhatDoesThePrayerReallySay, this article was awesome to read about " A new generation of young altar servers captivated by the solemn rituals of Latin Mass is mastering the traditional rite in growing numbers in the Boston archdiocese as the liturgy makes a comeback after a four-decade hiatus."

It's an article that appeared in the Boston Herald that looks at the VERY quickly and significantly growing number of young men who are interested in serving Mass in the traditional form.  In fact, since last April, the number has more than doubled - from 8 to 18.

Here's the part that really grabbed me, a quite from Brendan MacKenzie, 12: "It's really reverent. That's why I like it. It brings you closer to God."

...Which is exactly, in my humble opinion, the strength of the traditional form as compared to the Novus Ordo Mass and exactly the set-apart-from-the-world experience that the Generation Y Catholics might need to draw them back to the pews.

Please pray for these young men, this priest and his parish, and this diocese.  And pray that what countless Popes have reminded us can hold true in this case:  that devout altar servers are quite often the best hope for the calling of devout men to the priesthood. But whether they grow to be priests or family men, this upbringing will surely serve them well.

Last week, Suzanne and I received an invitation to join Father Larry and Father Jeff tonight in the rectory of our parish along with several other parishioners "who have shown an interest in our diocese by the virtue of the gifts [we] present each year to help... with the Annual Catholic Services Appeal."

The purpose of the presentation tonight is to present and rollout the plans the diocese has for renovating the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception in Springfield, an $11 million project commencing this fall and planned to continue through 2009.  It's a project that I've been reading a lot about, both in our parish bulletin and in the diocesan sources (the Catholic Times, the diocesan website), but also across the blogosphere as various prognosticators have shared their thoughts and concerns about the project. 

Science fiction writer John C. Wright came into the Church at this year's Easter Vigil.  I laughed heartily at his LiveJournal post (on Friday of last week) in which he informed his friends of his conversion.  Of course, I also laugh heartily at his subsequent posts asking hilarious questions about everything from how he becomes an Opus Dei assassin to "I have heard my whole life how corrupt and superstitious the Catholic Church is, so, now that  I am in, where do I sign up? I'd like to start with Simony. Can I buy Church offices wholesale, and then sell them through retail outlets? What are the tax implications?"

Here's his post telling of his conversion.  He writes something for each type of friend he has... and I guarantee there's something of value here for each type of friend I have as well...

For my Protestant friends, all I can do is assure you that that Church you broke away from in centuries past has been reformed of the abuses you complained of at that time. The Pope no longer sells indulgences. The theological differences are minor enough that Christly love, if you imitate His love, will cover them. I was raised Lutheran, and drank in anticatholicism with my mother's milk, so I assure you I am aware of most or all the objections, subtle and obvious, which you consciences in good faith might raise. The shock that came to me when I looked into Catholicism is that the Catholics do not teach what my teachers told me they teach. In any case, Protestant friends, I will be closer to you than I was when I was an atheist, so please consider this progress.

For my pagan friends, rejoice! My Protestant friends tell me my Catholic friends are pagans anyway! So I will be closer to you than I am now. And there is certainly some truth in the idea that Catholicism is a child of Jewish and Hellenic thought: the ancient civilization of Europe is still alive in the Catholic Church. If you worship Brigit, and I revere St. Brigit, this will be a common bond between us.

For the Atheist friends, give thanks! You may think of Catholicism as the most backward and obscurantist of the Christian sects. Not so! Not only does the Catholic Church acknowledge Darwinian evolution, the approach of at least some of the writers (St. Aquinas, for example, or St. Justin Martyr) is as rigorous and as rational as even the best of atheist writers, and darn mile more clear and rational than the worst of atheist writers (who are the only ones we hear about these days). Catholicism, in many of its branches, is not given to the religious enthusiasms of revivalism that so many atheists find disquieting. (Whether this lack of revivalism is a good thing or not, I leave for the reader to decide. Certainly more enthusiasm and crusading spirit would not be a bad thing for this Church at this hour of history.)

Tonight's Easter Vigil at Holy Family was absolutely beautiful.  It's among my favorite Masses of the year.  In particular, I like the way that it starts in the darkened church in the evening, everyone gathers outside, the newly-lit fire takes me back to the summers spent in the outdoors at camp - to newness, to nature, to the earth.  The Easter candle is lit - the light of Christ still burns - and all of our candles are lit from it.  We remember our own Baptisms - our own personal death and resurrection with Christ.  We read all of the readings that remind us of the entirety of Salvation History.  We sing.  And we hear the Gospel proclaiming that Christ is INDEED raised!  Alleluia!

But then the real beauty - the welcoming in of our new members.  The Baptisms, the Confirmations, the first Holy Communions.  Their personal initiation and entry into the liturgical life of the Body of Christ.

Yes, probably my favorite Mass of the year to have the honor to provide the music for and lead the music at.

Exsultet - The Easter Proclamation

Rejoice, heavenly powers! Sing choirs of angels!
Exult, all creation around God's throne!
Jesus Christ, our King is risen!
Sound the trumpet of salvation!

Rejoice, O earth, in shining splendor,
radiant in the brightness of your King!
Christ has conquered! Glory fills you!
Darkness vanishes for ever!

Rejoice, O Mother Church! Exult in glory!
The risen Savior shines upon you!
Let this place resound with joy,
echoing the mighty song of all God's people!

My dearest friends,
standing with me in this holy light,
join me in asking God for mercy,
that he may give his unworthy minister
grace to sing his Easter praises.

The Lord be with you.
    And also with you.
Lift up your hearts.
    We lift them up to the Lord.
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
    It is right to give him thanks and praise.

It is truly right that with full hearts and minds and voices
we should praise the unseen God, the all-powerful Father,
and his only Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.

For Christ has ransomed us with his blood,
and paid for us the price of Adam's sin to our eternal Father!

This is our passover feast,
When Christ, the true Lamb, is slain,
whose blood consecrates the homes of all believers.

This is the night,
when first you saved our fathers:
you freed the people of Israel from their slav'ry,
and led them dry-shod through the sea.

This is the night,
when the pillar of fire destroyed the darkness of sin.

This is night,
when Christians ev'rywhere,
washed clean of sin and freed from all defilement,
are restored to grace and grow together in holiness.

This is the night,
when Jesus broke the chains of death
and rose triumphant from the grave.

What good would life have been to us,
had Christ not come as our Redeemer?

Father, how wonderful your care for us!
How boundless your merciful love!
To ransom a slave you gave away your Son.

O happy fault, O necessary sin of Adam,
which gained for us so great a Redeemer!

Most blessed of all nights,
chosen by God to see Christ rising from the dead!

Of this night scripture says:
"The night will be as clear as day:
it will become my light, my joy."

The power of this holy night dispels all evil,
washes guilt away, restores lost innocence,
brings mourners joy;
it casts out hatred, brings us peace,
and humbles earthly pride.

Night truly blessed,
when heaven is wedded to earth
and we are reconciled to God!

Therefore, heavenly Father, in the joy of this night,
receive our evening sacrifice of praise,
your Church's solemn offering.

Accept this Easter candle,
a flame divided but undimmed,
a pillar of fire that glows to the honor of God.

Let it mingle with the lights of heaven
and continue bravely burning
to dispel the darkness of this night!

May the Morning Star which never sets
find this flame still burning:
Christ, that Morning Star,
who came back from the dead,
and shed his peaceful light on all mankind,
your Son, who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.