Thursday, November 29, 2007
Opus Dei, a Catholic personal prelature
John Paul II established Opus Dei as a personal prelature of the Catholic Church on 28 November 1982.
This legal framework, the Pope said, is "perfectly suited" to Opus Dei's "true nature and theological characteristics": a unified, secular, international body of priests and lay people, both men and women, sharing the same vocation with no distinctions, under the governance of one head.
Being a part of the Church's hierarchical structure, like a diocese, indicates that Opus Dei is an integral part of the Church itself, and not a mere product of voluntary association.
Personal prelatures, similar to dioceses and military ordinariates, are under the governance of the Vatican's Congregation for Bishops. These 3 types of ecclesiastical structures are composed of lay people served by their own secular clergy and prelate. Unlike dioceses which cover territories, personal prelatures —like military ordinariates— take charge of persons as regards some objectives regardless of where they live.
As to "what the law lays down for all the ordinary faithful", the lay members of Opus Dei, being no different from other Catholics, "continue to be ... under the jurisdiction of the diocesan bishop", in the words of John Paul II's Ut Sit.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
25 years ago, John Paul II made Opus Dei a personal prelature
With very great hope, the Church directs its attention and maternal care to Opus Dei, which—by divine inspiration—the Servant of God Josemaria Escriva de Balaguer founded in Madrid on October 2, 1928, so that it may always be an apt and effective instrument of the salvific mission which the Church carries out for the life of the world.
From its beginnings, this Institution has in fact striven, not only to illuminate with new lights the mission of the laity in the Church and in society, but also to put it into practice.
It has also endeavored to put into practice the teaching of the universal call to sanctity, and to promote at all levels of society the sanctification of ordinary work, and by means of ordinary work.
Furthermore, through the Sacerdotal Society of the Holy Cross, it has helped diocesan priests to live this teaching, in the exercise of their sacred ministry.
Opus Dei has spread and works in a large number of dioceses throughout the world. It is an apostolic organism made up of priests and laity, both men and women, which is at the same time organic and undivided. This means it is an institution endowed with a unity of spirit, of aims, of government and of formation.
Since Opus Dei has grown, with the help of divine grace, it has become necessary to give it a juridical configuration which is suited to its specific characteristics.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Largely accomplished by everyday Joes
Reacting to a post on whether or not the current living conditions are incompatible with holiness, Margaret makes the following post:
I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree with the assertion that current living conditions are incompatible with holiness. As you yourself noted, we are all called to holiness. I realize that our culture is now largely working in direct opposition to human decency and morality, but that neither excuses us from striving for sanctity nor requires that we withdraw from the world at large.
I belong to Opus Dei, and we are pretty strong believers in the possibility of being a saint in the middle of the world. One of the models that St. Josemaria, our founder, held up for us, were the early Christians. They lived in a profoundly pagan society that was going to rot from within in less than three hundred years. Yet in the midst of that, they managed to spread the light of Christ throughout the known world. This was largely accomplished by everyday Joes—farmers, soldiers, merchants, etc.—who simply went about their day being Christians in the midst of this paganism. They obviously didn’t feel that their corrupted culture was incompatible with holiness.
Making a Good Confession
By Miss Kade
So I've been reading Scott Hahn's "Lord, Have Mercy." It's all about his thoughts and observations on the sacrament of penance. I started reading it a week or two ... I'm almost done now. I'm realizing there is a LOT that goes into this sacrament. It's nothing to gloss over and as this is one of the major differences from my non-denominational days, its something I need to be very attentive of.
I'm really trying to figure out what goes into making a "good" Confession. Mr. Hahn says one of the best ways to do that is to know what doesn't make it a good Confession. He outlines some very good points for the not-so-great confessions.
One of the biggest trademarks of a poor confession: withholding the truth, or the full truth. We are so tempted to brush our offenses under the rug, minimize them as much as possible. But then we don't really receive the fullness of the sacrament then, now do we? We can't possibly, because we only get out of it as much as we put into it. And if you're not truly confessing, you can't truly receive the grace that comes from the confessing!! What a waste of our confessor's time, and of our time really.
I have to stop for a second, I used the word "offenses." That is huge! When I was studying Opus Dei (which I need to get back into, I'm not sure I don't want to be a little devotee just yet!), I was obviously reading a lot of St. Josemaria Escriva's writings. One of the biggest things I noticed about his language was that he referred to sin, not so much as "sin," but more as "offenses against our Lord." Wow! Never really thought about it with that terminology, but it makes so much more sense. I'd like to get rid of the word "sin" altogether. It's such a vile, nasty little thing. It can become such a barrier with its connotations between us and our God.
It's like "sex"... let's just stop calling it sex. Instead, let's call it what it is, "baby-making!" If you aren't prepared to make a child together, forget it for that night, because that's what you're doing! Instead of using the word "sin" so much in talking about our sins, I think we should start using the phrase "offending our Lord" a lot more! That is what we are actually doing! It cuts out the wedge that stands between our evil desires and our Lord altogether. It chokes the life out of making it just about ourselves and our bad nature. It is, at the very least, between us and God. BOTH are involved.
So when we are pouring out our instances where we have deeply offended our Lord, our beautiful Savior, to our confessor, we shouldn't hold anything back. We're dealing with the One who loves us most, and He deserves nothing less than our complete and total surrender. The grace will flow in only if we pour ourselves out.
Monday, November 19, 2007
The first time I heard of it I was captivated
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AT the “twilight of his years,” marketing guro [teacher in Filipino], Manoling de Leon, has written Pinoy Pilgrim: In Search of Filipino Identity, which is a marketing text, a memoir and a spiritual journal and Baedeker rolled into one. When martial law was declared in 1972, the Manila Chronicle, then one of the four major broadsheets, was in the middle of a marketing drive masterminded by Manoling. “I’m a veteran marketing man after all. I think along the lines of satisfying a need or filling a demand,” he says. The book may be divided into three major sections: business, family and faith. And Manoling wove them all together seamlessly. But let me start with his encounter with faith, with Opus Dei, as a matter of fact. Manoling first heard of Opus Dei while working in Madrid but did not get to really know it until he met Fr. Joe Cremades in Manila. After that, “I was convinced that God was calling me to Opus Dei, or the Work, as a supernumerary member. “For someone with my background, a married man with a growing family who climbed the corporate ladder following my own style of daring, hard work, and ambition, prepared for professional work by self-study and intense personal experiences, I felt that it was a personal privilege to discover that all of my past life had a certain direction. “God wanted me to be holy. “The first time I heard of it, I was captivated by what seemed like a goal worth like no other. “It seemed impossible, which is why it challenged me.” But we have to go back a little farther to understand what he is saying. Manoling was one of the first of our OCWs—overseas contract workers. As a teen-ager he worked with the US army in Guam. As a whiz kid, the US Army proposed him for special training in the US but after going for a vacation before leaving for the US, he decided to stay home and work his way up from there instead. Manoling never went to college. The only MBA training that he received was eight-hours—one working day—watching the late Francisco Dalupan, the founder of the University of the East, work. Here’s how Manoling summed up Dalupan’s eight-hour MBA course: “Being an executive is hard work. You need to take very good care of the details. You need to think, know what questions to ask, find out problems and suggest solutions. Or, you can get others to think of solutions, and make sure they are done. “Your job is to do or execute the plans. That’s what an executive’s job is. You may also be part of the planning, thinking of the future based on the decisions you make today. “Following up is one of the most difficult jobs of an executive, but if you do it well, you’ll be successful. “Anyone can try to be an executive, but only the good executives finish what they start. They are the one who succeed. “That’s it. My MBA, the only schooling I received about being an executive. In eight hours, I was convinced that I learned what an executive’s job is and I liked it. At the end of the day, I was tired but happy, my mind full of ideas to try out.” |
Thursday, November 15, 2007
She no longer wanted to listen to a human speaker
"The ministry of the Word demands a profound self-denial on the part of the priest: he is measured by the standard of Paul's saying: 'It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me' (Gal 2:20).
A little incident from the early history of the Opus Dei comes to mind. A young woman had the chance for the first time to attend lectures by the founder, Don Escriva. She was tremendously eager to hear such a very famous speaker. Yet when she had taken part in the Mass with him -so she said later- she wanted no longer to listen to a human speaker but only to discern what was God's Word and his will."
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Gambling with eternal happiness
A man’s right to swing his fist ends where my nose begins.
Recently at a dinner, I listened to a guest’s bigoted remarks about a minority group not present at the table. The host tried skillfully to change the subject, but the guest persisted. Then, glancing at his young children near him, the host said softly, "Please. Not in my house. I suppose your private attitudes are your business, but when they are aired here, they become mine. I have to tell you that I disagree and disapprove. If I don’t speak out now, you – and the children here and other guests – might think that my silence is tacit approval. I hope you understand."
Today’s Gospel reflection is related to the recent Bible Sharing titled, "Living Examples," written for November 8, 2007. Again, we are being warned against setting a bad example for others and leading them astray. At the same time we also have a responsibility to make others aware of any wrongful and sinful acts they commit, as indicated by the above scriptural snippet. This is what we call fraternal correction, and which, as we can see, is deeply rooted in Sacred Scripture. Besides, it is one of the seven Spiritual Works of Mercy taught by the Church which is: To Admonish sinners. Further, such correction is hinted at by St. Paul in his Second Letter to Timothy:
2 TIM 3, 16: "All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, correction, and for training in righteousness."
St. Josemaria Escriva says something important on the subject:
"There is a great love of comfort, and at times a great irresponsibility, hidden behind the attitude of those in authority who flee from the sorrow of correcting, making the excuse that they want to avoid the suffering of others. They may perhaps save themselves some discomfort in this life. But they are gambling with eternal happiness – the eternal happiness of others as well as their own – by these omissions of theirs. These omissions are real sins."
"When you correct someone – because it has to be done and you want to do your duty – you must expect to hurt others and to get hurt yourself. But you should never let this fact be an excuse for holding back."
If every spiritual leader and religious superior would faithfully and properly undertake fraternal correction of the members of their communities, then very likely we would have more and more individuals entering through the "narrow gate" and walking upward along the constricted road toward holiness and eternal life.
Unfortunately, many of our religious superiors and lay leaders want to be nice to others and be popular with everyone. Motivated by a false sense of compassion, they end up being overly tolerant of the spiritual faults and short-comings of those under their care. The members then end up "malformed," instead of being "transformed." They become religious "spoiled brats," rather than proficient Disciples of Christ. Sad to say, the same thing is happening in many, if not most, of our parish communities.
As parents, we also have the authority and the moral responsibility to correct our children and lead them toward the right path. The family, after all, is the basic unit of society and the concepts of religion and the Church start here. We all know the utmost importance of the family’s basic role in our society, and that is why today, the family is the number one target of destruction by the forces of evil and their human servants.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
A quiet but effective revolution in the world of spirituality
LAST Oct. 6 was the fourth anniversary of the canonization of a holy priest who made a quiet but effective revolution in the world of spirituality. His name? St. Josemaria Escriva, founder of Opus Dei.
The first time I read his books many years ago, what immediately struck me were the forcefulness and practical sense that his words possessed. While always educated and refined, they transmitted a lot of common sense, of affection and of being street-smart.
He seemed able to open people’s consciences, to read and understand them with what later on I learned to be Christian compassion and charity. He did not present theories. He just talked in a language that the heart could easily assimilate.
Right now, theologians are studying his thoughts and arguments, and are drawing precious lessons, indicating the richness of his spiritual and pastoral legacy.
It did not take long for me to realize that he was talking about a sanctity that was not lost in sophisticated theories and elaborate practices.
There was the quality of immediacy, of the here and now, about the kind of holiness he was preaching about. I understood that holiness cannot and should not be some remote ideal to pursue. It has to be lived now, no matter how imperfectly.
I understood from him that the drama of sanctification takes place in one’s heart, and is played out mainly in the small, ordinary things of our life, and seldom, if ever, in the public stages of extraordinary events.
It’s the drama of to whom you give your heart to God or to oneself. And this choice is always at the center of our life, our thoughts, words and actions. It’s the choice that we always have to make and that ultimately defines us.
The drama can have its difficult moments, but St. Josemaria practically screamed his reassurance that God is our Father who loves us even to the point of sending the Son to us, and the Son finally offering his life for us.
When I started the practice of reading the gospels, I then met divine words that explain these convictions St. Josemaria was so full of. “Where sin abounded, grace abounded even more,” St. Paul said (Rom 5,20). And in another letter, “For this is God’s will, your sanctification.” (1 Thes 4,3)
For most of us, our sanctity is in the heroism of our self-giving to God and to others in the ordinary circumstances of our life. It’s in the effort to try to understand an annoying companion, or in putting the finishing touches to one’s household chores.
It’s in the smile we try to evoke in spite of contrary feelings, or in the hidden and persevering effort to study and work. It can be in the faithful and generous living out of one’s commitments, both big and small, public and private.
It can also be in maintaining both human and Christian integrity in one’s business and politics, even if the environment is filled with structures of sin.
The expressions of sanctity can be endless because the love that propels it never says enough. They remain constant whatever the circumstances, converting ordinary circumstances into paths to love God and others.
There is nothing mushy or showy in his idea of sanctification, but it can generate tons of tender feelings, of exuberance, and of apostolic zeal. It finds thrill in the routine of every day, joy and peace in every moment.
And the more I got to know about St. Josemaria, the more I got convinced of the consistency between his words and his deeds. And yes, he can easily throw a spell on you, the kind that leads you to conversion and self-giving.
When I read St. Paul’s “We speak not in the learned words of human wisdom, but in the doctrine of the Spirit, comparing spiritual things with spiritual.” (1 Cor 2,12), I think of how St. Josemaria entered my life and affected it.
The greatest lesson I learned from him is that loving and achieving sanctity is just a matter of decision of the heart that can and should be made at any time and in any place. On the part of God, his grace never lacks. It’s our call.
Fr. Roy Cimagala is chaplain of the Center for Industrial Technology and Enterprise (CITE) in Talamban, Cebu City. E-mail: roycimagala@hotmail.com
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Benefits of company as family
October 2 2006: 11:29 AM EDT
About the same time that the "Da Vinci Code" was hitting theaters in May, I was camped out at a university in Barcelona, discovering some of the lesser-known secrets of Opus Dei, the Catholic society at the center of the book and movie's byzantine plot.
No, I didn't see any albino monks, cilices, or dead bodies. I was merely on sabbatical for three weeks at IESE, a leading Spanish business school founded by Opus Dei in 1958 as part of the University of Navarra. And the only thing I observed was great management.
For starters, IESE recently placed fourth among the top executive education programs in the world, according to rankings by the Financial Times. Unlike many European business schools, which have tried to mimic the U.S. model, IESE is intentionally different, with a greater emphasis on ethics and values both in the curriculum and in how it is run.
During my visit, dozens of faculty and staff members talked to me about what a great place IESE is to work because of its caring culture. Few were devout Catholics and even fewer were members of Opus Dei.
Then, when my wife came down with severe ear pain from flying with a cold, Jordi Canals, IESE's dean, arranged a difficult-to-get appointment with an ear specialist, got a taxi to take her to the appointment, and paid for everything, no questions asked.
Why a caring culture makes sense for IESE is pretty apparent: Emphasizing the long term, the school is interested in the personal transformation of its students and building closer relationships with them, and is willing to make the difficult economic trade-offs to convert noble sentiments into reality.