Last week, we talked about the idea of pilgrimage. Our acts of pilgrimage, to shrines and other holy places, are geographical journeys we take together. This week, we talk about indulgences, julbilees and holy years—reflections of incarnational piety that can be described as journeys transcending time. They unite us with each other in a less physical way. Nevertheless, these are real and profound demonstrations that “we’re all in this together.” We are connected with the Communion of Saints and the Church’s treasury of merit.
Indulgences grant a remission before God of temporal punishment due to sin. They recognize that our sins have temporal effects on us and our relationships with others in the Body of Christ as we live as pilgrims here on earth.
When one person is harmed, when we do an evil act, we suffer the effects together. When one person acts in a holy manner, the effects upon others are even greater. We can help each other in the process of healing and purification. Through the Church and the merits of Christ’s love, there is a great “exchange of holiness,” as described in paragraph 1475 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. The good effects of our acts of goodness, like the bad effects of our sins, are shared.
Pope Francis declared a Jubilee Year of Mercy in 2016. This was an act of healing unity within the Church.
Jubilees date back to the Old Testament. They had a cycle of forgiving debt. Every fiftieth year, everything would be restored to its original owner.
Pope Boniface VII declared the first Catholic jubilee in the year 1300. In the 20th century, jubilees were celebrated in 1933, 1950, and 1983. The Great Jubilee of 2000 was the goal of Pope John Paul II’s entire pontificate.
Jubilees are celebrated not just in Rome, but in every local diocese. A special Holy Door is set apart (usually in the Cathedral, though other Holy Doors may also be declared), representing the physical threshold of the pilgrimage, the sign that one has reached the goal and “earned” the indulgence. The pilgrim must also fulfill certain other duties, typically the reception of Holy Communion, Confession, and prayers for the intentions of the Pope.
Crossing the threshold of a Holy Door shows the incarnational nature of our faith. It’s a tangible act of “walking the walk.” It’s an act of the mind, the heart, the body. It recognizes that we’re entering the Lord’s house and he’s welcoming us. Pope Francis said that we also go out from the doors of the church as missionaries, keeping the cycle going.
We are journeying toward God in our lives—ever forward, or higher, “Excelsior!” We are in the world but not of the world, so we are pilgrims advancing toward our eternal home. We are nurtured on our “Christ-ian” (pronounced by Ken with three syllables) journey by the sacraments. Starting with our Baptism, the sacraments strengthen us as we make spiritual progress amid inevitable slips and falls.
The Eucharist, consumed by a dying person in the Anointing of the Sick, is called “viaticum”—food for the journey to our eternal home.
Our theological understanding of the Christian’s journey through life gets walked out and lived out geographical travels, especially to pilgrimage sites. Canterbury was a pilgrimage site that contained the bones of the martyr St. Thomas Becket. The narrative frame for The Canterbury Tales tells of a journey to that shrine. Today, the act of pilgrimage travel can help a family focus on its faith journey together. Ultimately, people take the pilgrimage experience back home as an inspiration to themselves and others.
Think of journeys in the Scriptures—not technically “pilgrimages,” but still life-changing. The Road to Emmaus depicts a transformative encounter in which travelers were joined by Christ along the way. The risen Jesus broke open the Word, and they recognized Him in the breaking of the bread. Paul, on his journey to Damascus, encountered the Lord in a dramatic way. After hearing the Lord’s call, he went off to a foreign land—taking time away on a kind of retreat, a time of personal change.
Retreats are another form of journey in which we embrace the incarnational nature of our faith. Your senses are heightened when you’re in a different place, living life in a different way. A retreat changes you, and you bring back to you everyday life the fruits of your contemplation. One well-known retreat site is the St. Meinrad Archabbey in Indiana.
The Salve Regina prayer (the Hail Holy Queen), speaks of our journey through the Vale of Tears. We pilgrims ask Mary to advocate for us as we travel as pilgrims on the earth, eager for the joys of eternal life.
A culture that has become less focused on words and more focused on images needs to remember and savor the power of good words. St. Benedict, in the Rule for his order of monks, encouraged meditation upon the words of Scripture every day. The words of your own mouth need to be related to the Word of God. Lectio Divina, or Divine Reading, is a practice of reading a Scriptural passage and entering more deeply—with our hearts and minds— into the scene and its lesson. This is an encounter with the living Word of God, the Word Made Flesh. In Lectio Divina, we read the words of Scripture and ask the Holy Spirit to make them live in our hearts. Here’s an introduction to basic steps for Lectio Divina.
Upon repeated reading of the Scripture passage, the participant in Lectio Divina asks for the Lord’s help to unpack a particular word or segment of the passage, leading ideally to a level of contemplation that encounters the Lord in a personal way. Passages can become important parts of our live through the focused meditation on them and the love they contain. A good way to start is to spend time in advance reading of the Gospel for a Mass you’re going to attend. This prepares you to receive the Gospel message well and incorporate it into every day.
One might gain inspirational value from words in other settings through a process that is weakly analogous to Lectio Divina. People can be led to conversion through words of edifying books and oral presentations (Bill called it “Lecture Divina”) in which wise people share uplifting counsel. We sometimes tend to become echo chambers stuck in our own thoughts and words, but we must get better at receiving the gifts of inspiration others can give us through the working of the Holy Spirit.
The Liturgy of the Hours is a way to encounter the Sacred Scriptures and receive enriching insight into our faith. Every time you encounter a Psalm, you can get something more from its rich meaning, partly because youI are in a new place on your own journey. This reflects the living presence and accompaniment of the Lord through the Scriptures.
Ken and Bill encouraged listeners to take up the habit of reading the Liturgy of the Hours.
Incarnational piety can take the form of putting faith into words and pictures through holy cards. Cards honoring saints and containing prayers, sometimes cards specifically intended for events such as wakes/funerals or ordinations, are a distinctly Catholic tradition. They call us back to a mindfulness of our call to holiness, as well as someone else’s response to that call and the Church’s nurturing of that call. Ken “wittily” compared them to trading cards from our youth. Bill remembered the gum that came in those packages. This guy on YouTube went beyond merely remembering.
Holy cards are valuable for pointing toward the spiritual reality that is beyond us. They celebrate the incarnational nature of our faith; for example, cards received at the wakes of loved ones are treasured reminders of those people who blessed us by sharing their faith and love. The cards are an invitation for us to pray for them. Holy cards honoring saints also invite us to pray to those saints for intercession.
With a funeral memorial card, the image of the saint on the card and the words of the prayer on the card tap into our memories and integrate us into the broader vision of the community of faith, the Communion of Saints. Traditional prayers make us mindful of graces from the past, complementing the practice of spontaneous prayer as a present-moment conversation we have with God.
The prayers on these cards aid the conversation that is part of our ongoing relationship with the Lord. Such words, whether they are in formal or spontaneous form, have power for building that relationship. We appreciate the value of well-chosen words that resonate in our minds and hearts.
There is something social and sociable about the “smells and bells” traditions of our Catholic faith. Incense is one of the examples of incarnational piety that yield positive visceral experiences of blessing and bonding in our liturgies—engagement on the personal and community levels. Here’s an additional commentary on the use of incense, posted by EWTN.
Frankincense represents the priesthood, the priestly act of offering up sacrifice, and honor—a sweet-smelling gift unto the Lord. Myrrh, an oil used for embalming, foreshadows the death of Christ; in the Eastern Churches, it is mixed in with oil during the consecration of the sacred Chrism. Gold is literally a gift fit for a king. Jesus Christ is indeed Priest, Prophet, and King.
Fr. Dwight Longenecker’s book, Mystery of the Magi, provides extensive research explaining the Bible’s story of the Magi who paid homage to the young Jesus as Priest, Prophet and King.
There is a photo of a silver reliquary case containing what tradition tells us are the gifts of the Magi (the gold, frankincense, and myrrh presented to the newborn Jesus). The relics were on display in 2014. A shrine containing relics of the Magi themselves has long been treasured in the Cologne Cathedral.
Gold, frankincense, and myrrh as gifts to the Lord appeal to the five senses but also engage our minds and our hearts, which are parts of our bodies, too. These expand our appreciation of incarnational piety and give us much to ponder, Bill pointed out.
The Christmas song “We Three Kings” includes a reference to King and God and Sacrifice. These tie into the trio of roles of priest, prophet, and king which Jesus Christ personified and to which we all are called as Christians.
We talk about using sacramentals to bring grace into our everyday lives, and this is achieved through habits of mindfulness we consciously form. Habits are practical acts accompanied by a disposition—the ways we approach life and pursue holiness and virtue. It’s faith in action. Sacramentals, as instruments for incarnational piety, are a wonderful aid to this approach. Here is an interesting essay about incarnational spirituality.
Ken said his graduate studies explored the formation of virtue as the development of good habits, a firm commitment to choose the good and exercise it in concrete action. Seeking a closer relationship with God, there are qualities we can develop ourselves and more fundamental qualities that God infuses in us. Think of the four cardinal virtues—prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance—as human qualities that can be pursued with or without Christian faith. There are also theological virtues—faith, hope, and love—which are the greatest gifts, infused in us by God, who is Love. (CCC 1804-1829) Human virtues are purified and elevated by God’s grace. All goods point toward the Creator.
William James wrote about the development of habits. In a famous quote, he urged people to strive diligently to develop good habits; otherwise, one can fall into bad habits which seem trivial at first but can build up to steer us toward a kind of hell on earth.
God can infuse courage and goodness and prudence as we need it, if we are receptive. The Catechism also discusses a related subject, receiving the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, as set forth in the Catechism. (CCC 1830-1832). In terms of incarnational piety, habits can be a beautiful way of receiving and cooperating with God’s grace in how we deal with everyday experiences. Some habits may tend toward mindlessness, such as the cautionary practice of checking whether the door to one’s home is locked. But we must strive to receive from the Holy Spirit habits of mindfulness that embody a sense of purpose centered on the Kingdom of God—the goal of growing closer to the Lord, participating actively in His grace and love.
An addendum to last week’s episode: Don’t hesitate to ask a priest to bless salt and holy water for use in your home and daily life. The carrying of blessed sacramentals is empowering and enlightening, an ongoing awareness-builder of our access to God’s grace for resisting evil. The priest’s act of blessing these sacramentals is itself a wonderful act of community and communion, bridging parish, home and the broader Church. This solidarity helps us appreciate the Lord’s incarnation and salvation in our lives as individuals and families.
We are a Church of decoration and remembrance, as Ken put it. Icons, crucifixes, stained glass windows, statues, and many other decorative resources from our Church feed our visual nature as human beings through their beauty. For example, the majestic impact of Michelangelo’s renowned sculpture, “The Pieta,” is a source of inspiration and catechesis. It’s a prayer in stone, said Ken. This and other Michelangelo masterpieces, such as the “Risen Christ” sculpture depicting Jesus carrying his cross.
On a more mundane and private, personal level, Bill relates the story of his wife’s childhood memory when she and her sisters would exchange clothes for the family’s Infant of Prague statue with clothes for their Barbie dolls. She explains the Infant of Prague clothes were tempting attire for children’s toys not out of disrespect but “because they were the prettiest clothes in the house.” It was an example of simple joy over a source of beauty in the domestic church and an implicit household aid for kids to develop an awareness of different garbs and colors having religious, liturgical meaning through love and honor.
Ken talked about the photographs, icons and other images that decorate his house as reminders of active participation in the Catholic faith. He and his wife have a hallway of saints evoking memories and inspiration through a variety of images, even a paint-by-numbers picture of Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper.”
A book written for children, Pictures of God, is an introduction to icons. Bill noted that the introduction captures kids’ imaginations with this statement: “Icons, like all beautiful things, reveal God to us. They are quieter than most of the art we are used to, which screams ‘Look at me! Look at me!’ Icons whisper, ‘Look at God! Look at God!’”
A go-to image for the Church to embody God’s self-sacrificing and salvific love for us is the crucifix. A distinctly Catholic image including the corpus of Jesus reflects the death of Christ on the cross as the necessary precursor to Resurrection. It may not be conventionally beautiful because it is bloody, an image of suffering. But it is an impactful summation of faith—incarnational, a representation of divine and human reality.
The “Mama Needs Coffee” blog reminds us that Jesus made mud to heal a deaf man. We are saved through the “scandalous” mystery of the incarnation by which God works through things of this world to bring supernatural gifts.
Art is used in churches to lift up the mind and heart to God. We should take better note of what is decorating our churches and our homes. The images can help our faith to grow and can be vehicles for God’s blessing through our attentive appreciation.
Sacramentals have value for our daily, incarnational faith, appealing to more than simply sight among our five senses and sometimes immersing us, at least figuratively, in God’s blessings if we believe and receive them as pointers toward sacramental grace.
Blessed salt was part of our discussion. We are called to be salt for the earth, evoking the sense of taste and our ability to bring flavor (as well as preservation) to our neighbors’ lives. A blog, “Mama Needs Coffee,” from the Catholic News Agency, has a post talking about our use of blessed salt. The author talks about the power of sprinkling blessed salt around a new home, in the same protective sense that the Israelites’ sprinkling of blood on their doorposts prompted the angel of death to pass over, to sustain their lives of obedience and faith and public witness.
A priest can exorcise salt before blessing it, using the prayer found here. It is then blessed so it can be used to help drive away satanic forces. Salt is part of God’s creation—like us human creatures, it can be blessed so as to be used as a blessing to others.
A use of salt by Elijah for holy purposes is seen in 2 Kings 2:20-21. Sacramentals, not magical tools or exquisite possessions of the rich and powerful, are simple reminders, regular items of earthly material that can be used to point us to Christ—if we are faithfully receptive to God’s loving use of all creation to bless us and others
Holy water uses a substance that is truly everywhere. Paul said we baptized into Jesus’ death so that we may be saved through his resurrection (Galatians 3:27). Water is both a destroyer and life-giver. Blood and water flowing from the side of the crucified Christ represented his death and his giving of new life.
Three holy oils are prepared as sacramentals at the annual Chrism Mass celebrated during Holy Week: the oil of catechumens, the oil of the sick, and sacred chrism. Here’s a description of the use of the precious oils.
In contrast to our last episode’s focus on silence, it’s time to talk about action as it applies to incarnational piety. There is a subtle difference in meaning between action and acts. Some acts in the spiritual sense, such as praying an “act of contrition” or an “act of faith,” may not seem to be full of energy or interaction, but they do “actualize” our faith as a statement or performance of engagement, belief, responsiveness. They reflect a desire for something meaningful to happen.
Action, of course, is good if it takes the form of an “act of mercy” or “act of worship,” or something else concrete and meaningful. Here are the Corporal Works of Mercy. Participation in liturgy is action, making actual our love for and gratitude to God, even if we seem to be simply sitting in a pew. In most moments of life, God is calling us to be active, or engaged, in our life of faith.
“Love is words plus action,” Ken pointed out. Relationship is an active thing that does make things happen, sometimes quietly or without words. Thanks to Ken for pointing out this heart-touching love song from the band Extreme, “More than Words.”
The rosary is a beautiful resource for silent prayer and reflection. The name Jesus is at the very center of the rosary as prayer and sacramental. The old English word “bede” is translated as “prayer”. Monks prayed 150 psalms, and some laypeople emulated that by praying the “Our Father” or “Pater Noster” 150 times using beads or, as the monks once did, using little stones as counting aids.
The rosary with which we’re most familiar is called the Dominican rosary because that religious order was central in popularizing the devotion and the format. The Servites (Servants of Mary) have a rosary recalling the Seven Sorrows of Mary. The Franciscan Crown Rosary recalls the Seven Joys of Mary. A variation on the rosary is the Divine Mercy Chaplet.
It’s important to take opportunities for silence during Mass and during our participation in the Church’s sacraments. Silence is an attitude of heart, internal and external, based in listening.