St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross- martyr

I spent the day on Saturday at a local amusement park with my family. Since we rarely get to do something this carefree, we all had a remarkable day. It was truly re-creation-al for me personally, but also for our family. Far from being unimportant, such excursions are important, like CL vacation, which I have yet to experience.

I also let the memorial of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, known to the world as Edith Stein, a Jewish woman who became a Christian. Prior to (and even after) entering the Carmel, she was a brilliant philosopher. She was a student and assistant to the father of phenomenology, Edmund Husserl. I am convinced that she would have made at least as big an impact on contemporary philosophy as one of Husserl's other students and assistants, Martin Heidegger. Letting her memorial pass in silence is a cause for a little bit of guilt for me.

This morning, while reading Cardinal Stanislaw Rylko's homily, delivered at Mass during this summer's Spiritual Exercises, I found words fitting to memorialize this holy woman, this courageous woman, who gave herself wholly to Christ, and who means so much to me:

"Martyrs, therefore, charge us with the courage to wager our lives on God. They call us to the incommensurable value of the faith, for which - just as it is for the treasure of the evangelical parable- it's worth giving everything: "Amor Dei usque ad contemptum sui", the love of God, to point of disdaining oneself, as Saint Augustine said (De Civitate Dei). They remind us that being Christian entails radical choices - the salt must flavor and the lantern cast light- and often signifies going against the flow, being a 'sign of contradiction' in the world and in our own sphere of life. The martyrs encourage us to be ourselves, that is, Christians, in the world and not to hide or dilute our identity as disciples of Christ. Their witness is for us a healthy goad, a healthy goad for our faith, often too accommodating to the spirit of the world, watered down, prone to compromises with the culture that dominates the current scene" (This Is the Victory That Conquers the World, pg. 27)

St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross- pray for us

Bodies are in Kansas City and I'm Ambivalent

Archbishop Naumann of Kansas City in Kansas and Bishop Finn of Kansas City- St. Joseph (Missouri) have issued a joint statement against the latest exhibition of plasticized bodies.

Todd in Kansas City has noted a parallel between this exhibit and certain elements of the veneration of relics in the Catholic Church. I was a bit disappointed that he didn't mention the 1996 reformation in the use of relics - which have been aimed specifically at respect for the body (but then again, he might not have heard). Indeed, the Church has struggled (and not always perfectly) to maintain a proper balance between veneration and abuse.

My first response to this comparison is that it is mainly a structural parallel. Yes, the practices are similar on the surface, but the meaning, the heart of what is done is totally different.

And then I was talking with some other Confirmation teachers after class last night. One of her students brought a question asked the same day by her public school teacher: why do the Catholic bishops discourage this display? The other question raised was: can I go? The bishops guide us and we listen to them, but we also have the responsibility of making a prudential judgment. We agreed that if a student goes, they do so keeping in mind the bishop's guidance; they are responsible for maintaining a reverent attitude; and they must judge what they see.

In this conversation, I brought up Todd's parallels. Todd mentions in particular a process just applied to the body of St. Padre Pio (Thanks Todd, you really made me think!). But Saints' relics are treated with deep respect and the identity of the individual is heightened. For example, a bone chip of St. Anthony of Padua may not look like much, but people kiss the glass of its reliquary (as I have), in order to honor a particular man who lived for Christ.

No, what occurred to me in this conversation was the Capuchin Ossuary in Italy. And here's the Sedlec ossuary of the Czech Republic. Anonymous bones arranged in decorative patterns, some even imitating the poses of life. Now that sounds familiar.

So what's the difference between these medieval ossuaries and the plasticized body exhibits? The entire culture is what's different. The ossuaries expressed a culture in which everything was a sign of the truth made flesh. Plasticized bodies express a culture in which nothing is a sign, everything is a stimulas, an entertainment. What's the difference? The difference is in the heart of the beholder to some degree. One could walk through plasticized bodies marveling at the wonder of the human body (as Sharon did at an exhibit near her) or one could see it all as a freak show, a novelty. Of course, that's what goes on in the medieval ossuaries today, I would think (a commentator over at Todd's Catholic Sensibility saw this happen in European cathedral. There is a difference, however. In the medieval ossuaries, the Christians who built them couldn't help but testify to the truth that they recognized: what you are we once were; what we are you will become. If I go to see the plasticized bodies, I'll have to bring that lesson in with me.