Do not ever forget that after death you will be welcomed by Love itself.
And in the love of God you will find as well all the noble loves which you had on earth.
Our Lord has arranged for us to spend this brief day of our earthly existence working and, like his only-begotten Son, ‘doing good’.
--St. Josemaria, Friends of God, Christian Hope 221
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Five things you don’t know about top MBA programs
By David Grant in the Christian Science Monitor
The Economist recently released its annual rankings (subscription required) for the world’s top MBA programs. While weighing the relative merits of titans like the Sloan School at MIT and the Haas School at the University of California-Berkeley is tough enough, adding international programs from Spain to Singapore muddies the waters that much more. By combing through the numbers, though, several interesting facts come to light.
1. You’ve never heard of the most competitive MBA program:
What? Everybody knows it’s Harvard/MIT/Chicago/Wharton. Good guesses. All wrong. With 680 applicants for every one of its 297 spots, the International Institute of Management in Ahemdabad, India is the world’s most competitive MBA program and 99th best worldwide. While most of its graduates go on to careers in India, its career services placed 8th of all MBA programs and boasts McKinsey Co. and Monitor Group (alongside now defunct Lehman Brothers) as its principal recruiters. With a price tag of just over $20,000 per year (versus over $50,000 at Stanford), maybe even some American MBA students will be looking to a new eastern locale for their graduate education.
2. The best program is … affiliated with Opus Dei?
The IESE Business School at the University of Navarra in Barcelona took home the Economist’s top spot. The Opus Dei connection has more to do with business ethics than Dan Brown-esque intrigue, though. While European business students tend to have twice as much work experience as American students, according to the report, IESE came in second on immediately boosting students’ incomes from their pre-MBA level. (The Joseph M. Katz school at the University of Pittsburgh was first.) The cost? Writing seven admissions essays and plunking down a cool $99,813 for the 19-month program.
3. Have deep business experience? Go UK:
Ranked by post-MBA salary, five of the top 10 programs are in the United Kingdom. Like Ashridge, the top MBA for salary growth, many top European programs focused on executive MBA training grounds before expanding standard MBA education. Thus, their deep experience working with seasoned managers can take them the extra mile.
4. American business grads take care of their own:
Of the top 25 schools with top alumni effectiveness, 21 are American, led by the Tuck School at Dartmouth College, Stanford University, and the Mendoza College at Notre Dame. Founded in 1900, Tuck is the world’s oldest business school and has a honed curriculum that focuses on building students’ ability to work both within teams and intimately with faculty members. Those personal connections may be something what translates into alumni who will really go to bat for freshly-minted grads.
5. Head down under for a top student experience:
Monash University in Caulfield East, Australia, claimed the top ranking for personal development and educational experience. It’s superlative only in the quality of one’s eventual MBA colleagues (where it ranks 3rd). It isn’t barn-burning in any other category – 15th in faculty quality, 17th in diversity, and 25th in educational experience – but in aggregate these strong showings build a cohesive whole. The trade-off? Its post-MBA salaries lie in the bottom quarter of schools surveyed.
The Economist recently released its annual rankings (subscription required) for the world’s top MBA programs. While weighing the relative merits of titans like the Sloan School at MIT and the Haas School at the University of California-Berkeley is tough enough, adding international programs from Spain to Singapore muddies the waters that much more. By combing through the numbers, though, several interesting facts come to light.
1. You’ve never heard of the most competitive MBA program:
What? Everybody knows it’s Harvard/MIT/Chicago/Wharton. Good guesses. All wrong. With 680 applicants for every one of its 297 spots, the International Institute of Management in Ahemdabad, India is the world’s most competitive MBA program and 99th best worldwide. While most of its graduates go on to careers in India, its career services placed 8th of all MBA programs and boasts McKinsey Co. and Monitor Group (alongside now defunct Lehman Brothers) as its principal recruiters. With a price tag of just over $20,000 per year (versus over $50,000 at Stanford), maybe even some American MBA students will be looking to a new eastern locale for their graduate education.
2. The best program is … affiliated with Opus Dei?
The IESE Business School at the University of Navarra in Barcelona took home the Economist’s top spot. The Opus Dei connection has more to do with business ethics than Dan Brown-esque intrigue, though. While European business students tend to have twice as much work experience as American students, according to the report, IESE came in second on immediately boosting students’ incomes from their pre-MBA level. (The Joseph M. Katz school at the University of Pittsburgh was first.) The cost? Writing seven admissions essays and plunking down a cool $99,813 for the 19-month program.
3. Have deep business experience? Go UK:
Ranked by post-MBA salary, five of the top 10 programs are in the United Kingdom. Like Ashridge, the top MBA for salary growth, many top European programs focused on executive MBA training grounds before expanding standard MBA education. Thus, their deep experience working with seasoned managers can take them the extra mile.
4. American business grads take care of their own:
Of the top 25 schools with top alumni effectiveness, 21 are American, led by the Tuck School at Dartmouth College, Stanford University, and the Mendoza College at Notre Dame. Founded in 1900, Tuck is the world’s oldest business school and has a honed curriculum that focuses on building students’ ability to work both within teams and intimately with faculty members. Those personal connections may be something what translates into alumni who will really go to bat for freshly-minted grads.
5. Head down under for a top student experience:
Monash University in Caulfield East, Australia, claimed the top ranking for personal development and educational experience. It’s superlative only in the quality of one’s eventual MBA colleagues (where it ranks 3rd). It isn’t barn-burning in any other category – 15th in faculty quality, 17th in diversity, and 25th in educational experience – but in aggregate these strong showings build a cohesive whole. The trade-off? Its post-MBA salaries lie in the bottom quarter of schools surveyed.
Monday, October 26, 2009
The Wives, Mothers and Daughters Who Live the Charism of Opus Dei
By Miriam Díez i Bosch, in Zenit.org.
We tracked down Marie Oates in Opus Dei headquarters in New York. Her desire to show how women live the Opus Dei charism resulted in her book “Women of Opus Dei: In Their Own Words."
Coedited with Linda Ruf and Jenny Driver (Crossroad Publishing, 2009), the book's profiles range from a Harvard doctor, to stay-at-home moms, to an MIT graduate; it aims to introduce "the women in Catholicism's most intriguing organization."
ZENIT: Finally someone is talking about women in the Opus Dei. Women make up half -- some believe more than half -- of the total number of members of Opus Dei in the United States and worldwide, but most people do not know you. Why this lack of protagonism?
Oates: As part of the Catholic Church, Opus Dei exists to help lay men and women find and love God through their work -- whatever that may be -- and the everyday events that fill a normal life. But having a vocation to Opus Dei does not change the fact that members are still simply lay faithful, the same as other lay faithful in the Catholic Church.
People in Opus Dei do not wear their vocation to Opus Dei on their sleeves. In general, they try to focus on being an "ordinary guy or gal" with their colleagues, family and friends, all the while trying to be more like Christ in their work and with everyone with whom they come in contact. In this way, each one strives to personally give glory to God and to give Christian witness through the way they do their work and through their personal relationships.
Readers will find that there is plenty of "protagonism" -- as well as human imperfections and defects too -- among the women featured in the book.
Each one is the protagonist of her unique and personal effort to live out her calling to holiness as a lay person.
ZENIT: Is there a prototype of a woman of Opus Dei?
Oates: No. As readers will see, the women featured in "Women of Opus Dei: In Their Own Words" are all unique.
The women in the book, just like all the women -- and men -- in Opus Dei, come from all walks of life. Four of the 15 women featured in the book are converts to Catholicism. Three of the women featured are of African American heritage; several come from Asian and Hispanic backgrounds. Several are stay-at-home mothers -- an important professional work esteemed as such by St. Josemaría Escrivá. Several are mothers who raise their families and have other professions they carry out.
There’s a scientist, a couple of medical doctors -- including one of the founders of the Hospice Movement in the United States, hospitality services professionals, a childcare professional, several educators, the president of a women’s college, the executive director of a non-profit organization, etc.
The majority of the women are married, some are single. What they share in common is their vocation -- which is the same calling regardless of their different circumstances.
Though they each have their own personal shortcomings and struggles like everyone, they all love their Catholic faith deeply and find that their vocation to Opus Dei helps them cherish, live and pass on that faith more readily.
Women (and men) in Opus Dei are normal Catholics who want to respond daily to God’s deep love and goodness.
ZENIT: Is there anything distinctive Opus Dei offers to women in terms of formation, ways of behaving?
Oates: The formation offered by Opus Dei, a personal prelature of the Catholic Church, simply echoes the Christian formation recommended by the Church for all the faithful -- men and women. The Christian programs are the same for men and women -- though they are carried out independently of
each other.
The independence of the women’s formation programs from the men’s primarily was part of the foundational charism St. Josemaría received from God. It works effectively for Opus Dei’s formational activities, but it might not for other Catholic organizations.
I guess one of the distinctive features of the formation is that it is offered by lay people and priests. It strives to be practical and to help people live the Christian virtues in their place of work, in their normal daily activities.
ZENIT: In your book it is impossible to find the political affiliation of the women featured. Was that done on purpose or is it simply not an issue?
Oates: That was done on purpose because it is not an issue. Let me explain. Members of Opus Dei, as free human beings, are encouraged to be responsible citizens, to vote, to take an interest in the public policies that affect them and others within their various countries and communities.
That said, members of Opus Dei are completely free in the realm of voting, public policies, political party affiliation, etc. Opus Dei is totally non-political. Its ends are completely spiritual. People in Opus Dei tend to be all over the map in their politics -- some are liberal, some are conservative, some are moderate, etc. As devout Catholics, they often share similar points of view on moral “hot button” issues like abortion, euthanasia, sexual ethics, social justice, bioethics, etc. -- all of which have political repercussions.
Still, they are encouraged to approach and decide on those and other issues of public policy in accord with their conscience. There’s no one approach that people in Opus Dei adopt when considering those and other public policy matters. As Christians, they pray about and ponder the matters, and then come up with their own political decisions based on the options available to them.
ZENIT: Do you think the Opus Dei these women represent is the Opus Dei the founder, St. Josemaría Escrivá, envisaged?
Oates: I like to think so. These women are all normal -- they are not perfect, but they are committed to struggle each day to keep Jesus front and center in their lives. We are all “works in progress” until we die.
Our existence on earth is a pilgrimage as we walk in time toward our definitive destiny: eternal life with God. God gives us time here on earth to cultivate the talents we have been given and to make the best of them in his service and the service of souls around us.
I think St. Josemaría would be happy with the dedication, focus and diversity of these women -- and the thousands not included in this book.
Probably, if he had them in a room all together, he would not congratulate them for being in Opus Dei, rather he would challenge them to be more valiant women. He would encourage them to try to be more generous in their love of God and spirit of service. He would urge them to dream apostolically with a world vision, to continue struggling to be better, to convert daily.
He often said that about himself, i.e., that he personally played the role of the prodigal son each day in his own life, and that most of us need to have little and big conversions each day, turning back toward God.
We tracked down Marie Oates in Opus Dei headquarters in New York. Her desire to show how women live the Opus Dei charism resulted in her book “Women of Opus Dei: In Their Own Words."
Coedited with Linda Ruf and Jenny Driver (Crossroad Publishing, 2009), the book's profiles range from a Harvard doctor, to stay-at-home moms, to an MIT graduate; it aims to introduce "the women in Catholicism's most intriguing organization."
ZENIT: Finally someone is talking about women in the Opus Dei. Women make up half -- some believe more than half -- of the total number of members of Opus Dei in the United States and worldwide, but most people do not know you. Why this lack of protagonism?
Oates: As part of the Catholic Church, Opus Dei exists to help lay men and women find and love God through their work -- whatever that may be -- and the everyday events that fill a normal life. But having a vocation to Opus Dei does not change the fact that members are still simply lay faithful, the same as other lay faithful in the Catholic Church.
People in Opus Dei do not wear their vocation to Opus Dei on their sleeves. In general, they try to focus on being an "ordinary guy or gal" with their colleagues, family and friends, all the while trying to be more like Christ in their work and with everyone with whom they come in contact. In this way, each one strives to personally give glory to God and to give Christian witness through the way they do their work and through their personal relationships.
Readers will find that there is plenty of "protagonism" -- as well as human imperfections and defects too -- among the women featured in the book.
Each one is the protagonist of her unique and personal effort to live out her calling to holiness as a lay person.
ZENIT: Is there a prototype of a woman of Opus Dei?
Oates: No. As readers will see, the women featured in "Women of Opus Dei: In Their Own Words" are all unique.
The women in the book, just like all the women -- and men -- in Opus Dei, come from all walks of life. Four of the 15 women featured in the book are converts to Catholicism. Three of the women featured are of African American heritage; several come from Asian and Hispanic backgrounds. Several are stay-at-home mothers -- an important professional work esteemed as such by St. Josemaría Escrivá. Several are mothers who raise their families and have other professions they carry out.
There’s a scientist, a couple of medical doctors -- including one of the founders of the Hospice Movement in the United States, hospitality services professionals, a childcare professional, several educators, the president of a women’s college, the executive director of a non-profit organization, etc.
The majority of the women are married, some are single. What they share in common is their vocation -- which is the same calling regardless of their different circumstances.
Though they each have their own personal shortcomings and struggles like everyone, they all love their Catholic faith deeply and find that their vocation to Opus Dei helps them cherish, live and pass on that faith more readily.
Women (and men) in Opus Dei are normal Catholics who want to respond daily to God’s deep love and goodness.
ZENIT: Is there anything distinctive Opus Dei offers to women in terms of formation, ways of behaving?
Oates: The formation offered by Opus Dei, a personal prelature of the Catholic Church, simply echoes the Christian formation recommended by the Church for all the faithful -- men and women. The Christian programs are the same for men and women -- though they are carried out independently of
each other.
The independence of the women’s formation programs from the men’s primarily was part of the foundational charism St. Josemaría received from God. It works effectively for Opus Dei’s formational activities, but it might not for other Catholic organizations.
I guess one of the distinctive features of the formation is that it is offered by lay people and priests. It strives to be practical and to help people live the Christian virtues in their place of work, in their normal daily activities.
ZENIT: In your book it is impossible to find the political affiliation of the women featured. Was that done on purpose or is it simply not an issue?
Oates: That was done on purpose because it is not an issue. Let me explain. Members of Opus Dei, as free human beings, are encouraged to be responsible citizens, to vote, to take an interest in the public policies that affect them and others within their various countries and communities.
That said, members of Opus Dei are completely free in the realm of voting, public policies, political party affiliation, etc. Opus Dei is totally non-political. Its ends are completely spiritual. People in Opus Dei tend to be all over the map in their politics -- some are liberal, some are conservative, some are moderate, etc. As devout Catholics, they often share similar points of view on moral “hot button” issues like abortion, euthanasia, sexual ethics, social justice, bioethics, etc. -- all of which have political repercussions.
Still, they are encouraged to approach and decide on those and other issues of public policy in accord with their conscience. There’s no one approach that people in Opus Dei adopt when considering those and other public policy matters. As Christians, they pray about and ponder the matters, and then come up with their own political decisions based on the options available to them.
ZENIT: Do you think the Opus Dei these women represent is the Opus Dei the founder, St. Josemaría Escrivá, envisaged?
Oates: I like to think so. These women are all normal -- they are not perfect, but they are committed to struggle each day to keep Jesus front and center in their lives. We are all “works in progress” until we die.
Our existence on earth is a pilgrimage as we walk in time toward our definitive destiny: eternal life with God. God gives us time here on earth to cultivate the talents we have been given and to make the best of them in his service and the service of souls around us.
I think St. Josemaría would be happy with the dedication, focus and diversity of these women -- and the thousands not included in this book.
Probably, if he had them in a room all together, he would not congratulate them for being in Opus Dei, rather he would challenge them to be more valiant women. He would encourage them to try to be more generous in their love of God and spirit of service. He would urge them to dream apostolically with a world vision, to continue struggling to be better, to convert daily.
He often said that about himself, i.e., that he personally played the role of the prodigal son each day in his own life, and that most of us need to have little and big conversions each day, turning back toward God.
Did Founder of Opus Dei Prophesy the Pope's Anglican Ordinariate?
By Taylor Marshall in Canterbury Tales
Did the founder of Opus Dei prophesy the Pope's Anglican Ordinariate? In a way, yes.
According to Msgr. Bill Stetson, Saint Josemaria Escriva, the founder of Opus Dei, visited England back in 1958. He frequented many Anglican Churches and was keen on rekindling fervor in England for the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.
While visiting an Anglican Church, Saint Josemaria Escriva said in Spanish, "If we don't lend them a hand, the Christian Faith will die away in fifty years."
Well fifty years later (2008) the Anglican Communion became fractured through the ordination of active homosexuals and by the general erosion of Christian orthodoxy. Fifty-one years later (2009) the Holy Father "lends a hand" by establishing the Anglican personal ordinariate. Pretty amazing if you ask me. Saint Josemaria had it just about right.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Carnegie Council: Opus Dei by John Allen
John Allen and Joanne Myers in Carnegie Council
Introduction
JOANNE MYERS: Good morning. I'm Joanne Myers, Director of Public Affairs Programs, and on behalf of the Carnegie Council I'd like to thank you all for joining us this morning as we welcome John Allen, our fifth speaker in our series on Religion and Politics. Today he will be discussing Opus Dei: The First Objective Look Behind the Myths and Reality of the Most Controversial Force in the Catholic Church.
So just what is the truth about Opus Dei? Is it actually doing the quiet work of His Holiness, or is it a human instrument of power and control, out to effect a covert and hostile takeover of the Church?
Remarks
JOHN ALLEN: Thank you. Good morning. Let me just make a couple of observations on the basis of that very gracious introduction. First of all, you should know that there is actually a member of Opus Dei named Silas. However, unfortunately, he's a short black guy, as opposed to an albino monk roaming the earth in search of the enemies of the Church.
Secondly, it is of course true that I wrote a book called The Rise of Benedict XVI, and I was actually asked just before this talk if the Holy Father had had any reaction to the book. I can pass along to you the message that indeed he did.
You should know about this book that it was a sort of tripartite effort. The first was the last days of John Paul II. The second component was the story of the Conclave for the election of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger as Pope. The third was a kind of projection of where this pontificate is going to go.
Now, the Holy Father read the book over his summer vacation in Val d'Aosta in the north of Italy, and then sent back a message through his spokesperson, Joaquin Navarro-Valls, saying, "Would you please thank Herr Allen for having written this book, among other things, because he has discussed the future of my pontificate, saving me the trouble of thinking about it for myself." So whatever else you may think, at least the Holy Father has a sense of humor.
I'm delighted to be here with you this morning to talk about the subject of Opus Dei. What I would like to do first of all, is say just a couple of brief words about the perspective I bring to the subject; give you some essentials about Opus Dei, a sort of Opus Dei 101 if you like; talk about a couple of the most common controversies that have surrounded Opus Dei; and then perhaps, given the particular interest of this audience, say just a couple of words about the foreign policy, so to speak, that is the political concerns of the Holy See, and how groups such as Opus Dei might fit into that.
First, to begin, the perspective I bring. I am what the Italians call a Vaticanista, which means that it is my full-time professional work to follow the goings-on in this 108-acre island of ecclesiastical life in the heart of Rome that we call the Vatican.
Concretely, that means that when a visiting dignitary is in to see the Holy Father, often I go up to the papal apartment to cover the event. Most recently, I was there for the farewell visit of Prime Minister Kwasniewski from Poland just last Friday. It means I travel when the Pope travels, so I traveled to twenty-five countries with John Paul II, and on and on. Concretely, I think what that allows me to do is see some of the complexities of the Vatican and the Universal Church.
I'd like to tell you a very quick anecdote to drive that point home. You may know that when the Pope travels, he does so in a dual capacity. He is both, of course, a head of state—the Holy See is a sovereign entity in international law that exchanges ambassadors with 174 countries and international organizations. He is also, of course, the head of the Catholic Church. So when he arrives in a foreign country, he is welcomed twice: once in a very formal setting, usually by the president or prime minister of the host country; again, usually in a much less formal setting, on behalf of the local Church, often by the President of the Bishops Conference; by the Primate, if this country has a historical Primate; and in some cases, if it's a very small country, by the Papal Nuncio—that's the Pope's ambassador in that country.
This particular story is set on a trip to Eastern Europe, to a country that had a very, very small Catholic community. It's actually Azerbaijan, which has all of 114 Catholics. I ran the math, and it would have actually been four times less expensive to bring all of those Catholics to Rome than to bring the Holy Father to Azerbaijan. But in any event, obviously that wasn't the point.
The greeting for the Holy Father, the second greeting in this case, was delivered by the Pope's Nuncio, who is a very lovely Italian monsignor, a wonderful man, but has a reputation—and I have to tell you it's a well-deserved reputation— as a bit of a windbag; that is, he goes on and on, and often, the mystery is, without saying very much.
On this particular day, I actually clocked his greeting for the Holy Father at forty minutes. Bear in mind, ladies and gentlemen, this is a twenty-four-hour trip. We actually thought the Holy Father would be back in Rome before this guy was done welcoming him. I happened to be in the pool covering the welcome, so I was at the end of one row of seats. Immediately across the aisle was the seguito, the papal entourage, the cardinals and other Vatican officials who travel with the Pope. So I was more or less immediately next to a very senior Vatican cardinal—a man I know, I've interviewed him several times. I could tell as this oration was winding on that our cardinal friend was becoming increasingly frustrated. I mean you can tell these things. You don't have to be a genius. His breathing was becoming heavy, eyes were rolling in the back of his head, and veins were throbbing on his forehead, and so forth.
And so, at a certain stage, I felt I needed to give him an opportunity to vent. So I leaned into the cardinal and I said to him, "Cardinal, what do you think?" Well, there was this sort of nanosecond of hesitation, where you could tell he was calculating, "Should I say this; should I not say it?" ? but it was obvious he needed to get this off his chest. So, in sotto voce fashion, he leaned into me and, looking up at this monsignor going on and on and saying nothing, the cardinal whispered to me, "You realize that some Italian village is missing its idiot."
[Laughter.]
Now, in addition to being a once-in-a-career punch line, this anecdote makes a valuable point, which is that only seen from afar could the Vatican look like a "Stepford Wives" environment in which everyone looks alike and dresses alike and thinks alike and acts alike. The truth is it is much more polychrome than that. There are many different personalities, temperaments, styles, outlooks, visions, and so on. I hope what my experience enables me to do is to bring some of that complexity to bear.
I want to do that on the subject of Opus Dei as well, because I think Opus Dei is a topic that is so often dealt with through the prism of myth and sweeping overgeneralization. That is, I think the conversation about Opus Dei often generates far more heat than light.
I hope what we can do today, I hope what I was able to accomplish in the book, is bring a somewhat more complex, and I think nuanced, approach to the subject. In terms of the importance of this subject, let me just very quickly say that in addition to the vast public fascination with this organization, most prominently carried of course in The Da Vinci Code—and that would sort of be the journalistic motive for tackling this project —let me just say a brief word about my motivation as a Catholic for turning my attention to this subject.
I think the truth is that inside the Catholic Church we often have a problem with sustaining rational conversation across party lines. The Catholic Church is, I think, in too many ways today, a house divided against itself. My hunch about this subject was that if we can clear a space in which we can have a patient, rational, understanding conversation on this subject, then it could be a model for how we could do so on any number of other contentious topics. That said, let me give you a few basic points about Opus Dei that I think will help our understanding.
As was said in the introduction, Opus Dei was founded in Madrid, in Spain, in October 1928, on the Feast of the Guardian Angels, by a Spanish priest by the name of Josemaria Escrivá. I think it is important to contextualize what was going on in European Catholicism at that moment. In addition to the fact of the intra-Spanish context, that this was the run-up to the civil war, I think the broader context was there was great ferment in the Catholic Church in the early 20th century about what was seen as—and I think rightly so—a growing gap between the Church and secular modernity; in other words, this tendency to think of religion—"Catholicity," if you like—as a kind of private compartmentalized experience, that, whatever it might mean to the individual believer, had precious little relevance to the broader cultural context—the political debate, economic systems, and so on. There were a number of organizations in the Catholic Church, and creative thinkers in the Catholic Church, that were trying to imagine ways to breach that gap. I think that's the context in which the foundation on which Opus Dei needs to be located.
Escrivá's vision—which, of course, according to his testimony and the tradition of Opus Dei, was a vision revealed to him by God—was the creation of a core of Catholic laity who would be well formed in the spirituality and doctrine of the Catholic Church and then would take that formation and apply it to whatever path of life they happened to find themselves in. So you would have lay Catholic bankers and lay Catholic politicians and lay Catholic architects and teachers and bus drivers and bakers and so on, who would see the ordinary details of their daily work not merely as an opportunity for their own sanctification—that is, making themselves holy—but as an opportunity for transforming the world.
In other words, the idea was that if we want to change secular modernity, we cannot do it from the outside, with a clerical cast wagging its finger at lay people and exhorting them to do moral things; it had to be done from the inside-out, by people who were in and of the secular world, imagining a Christian vision of what secularity and secular modernity might look like and then bringing it about.
Now, as obvious as that may seem with the benefit of seventy years of experience, I think it's worth saying that this was a direct frontal challenge to much of Catholic spirituality and much of Catholic attitudes towards the secular world at the time. Let me make two points.
First, it was a challenge to the kind of clericalist ethos that was, I think, overwhelming, particularly in Spanish Catholicism at the time, in which the clergy were seen as the primary actors in the drama of redemption, and the role of laity was, in the classic formula, to pray, pay, and obey.
Escrivá turned that directly on its head. He said: "No. The clergy are a supporting cast, they are at best a support system, and the real work of redemption and transformation, sanctification, has to be done by laity who are fully immersed in the highways and byways of modern life and bringing a Christian spirit to it." In that sense, I think we can fairly say that Escrivá was in a way a prophet, a visionary, of the Second Vatican Council, which would of course arrive in Catholicism in the mid-1960s, which would herald in the era of the laity.
It has been fairly said that, whatever Opus Dei's profile today may be, however traditionalist or conservative one may see it as, at least in this sense there is no question that they were ahead of the curve in terms of announcing and embracing a much more active and dynamic vision of the lay role.
Secondly, the other sense in which Opus Dei, I think, in Escrivá's vision, was an inversion of what was traditional Catholic thinking is he insisted that the modern street or the boardroom or the assembly hall of a parliament is every bit as religious an environment as a church building. In other words, if you want to have a religious vocation, you do not have to retreat into a monastery; quite the contrary, you can be a seriously engaged, deeply committed, religious person and see in a sense the sacrifice of your work at a board table as every bit as important, as every bit as crucial, an act of sanctification, as the sacrifice that a priest performs on the altar when he consecrates the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. This, too, was very much a challenge to what was contemporary spiritual understanding inside the Catholic Church of his day.
I think it's important to make these points, because my observation is that in much public discussion about Opus Dei we concentrate—I think legitimately so—on matters that are in many ways peripheral to Opus Dei's core message —that is, debates over Opus Dei's money or power or the role of women or corporal mortification. Again, there is a perfectly legitimate conversation to be had about these topics, but the risk is that we miss what Opus Dei actually purports to be about.
The analogy that I came up with in the course of my research is that most writing and journalistic commentary on Opus Dei is similar to doing a book on General Motors without mentioning that they make cars. In other words, you're not quite getting to the core of what this organization is all about.
Now, having said all of that, let me then turn a couple of those controversies. Obviously, I can't pretend to be all-embracing—we could spend considerably more time than we have talking about all of the different question marks and myths and concerns about Opus Dei that have grown up over the years. What I want to do is pick up a couple that I think are representative, and then, obviously, I'm happy to respond to any questions you have.
In my experience, in looking at the most common public controversies surrounding Opus Dei, I think you can separate them into two categories. There are those concerns that dissolve upon contact—that is, once you take a hard look at them, they go away. Then, there are those that, even after you have made a sustained, deliberate effort to try to understand it from the inside-out, rational, well-meaning people without an axe to grind are going to draw very different conclusions.
I want to offer you an example of each. First, let's talk about Opus Dei's wealth. As you undoubtedly are aware, there is a public perception that Opus Dei is an enormously wealthy organization, sitting on secret bags of cash, and that over the years this has generated conspiracy theories, such as that Opus Dei bailed out the Vatican Bank in the late 1970s when it was, to put it euphemistically, "having difficulties"; and that Opus Dei funneled money to Solidarity in Poland, and in so doing essentially bought the allegiance of the future Pope, John Paul II.
It's easy enough to understand where perceptions like this come from. If you have ever been, for example, to the Opus Dei headquarters here in New York, at 34th and Lexington, that seventeen-story building jokingly known as "the tower or power," it is a fairly imposing edifice and it is fairly sumptuously appointed when you poke around inside. So you understand where the perceptions come from.
But what we did in this book, for the first time, is actually run the numbers. So let me tell you what the numbers are and then try to put them in some context for you.
The primary Opus Dei operations around the world are what are known inside Opus Dei as "corporate works," that is, activities for which Opus Dei guarantees the spiritual and doctrinal formation. This includes a series of universities, schools, hospitals, social service centers, and so on.
In the United States, if you add up the cash value of all of those Opus Dei operations— that is, the total assets of everything that is connected to Opus Dei in the country—you arrive at a figure of $344 million. If you do the same thing for the globe—that is, the cash value of all of Opus Dei's activities around the world—and here I have to say that while that $344 million is a hard number, because of the differences in accounting requirements in various parts of the world, the global number is a best guess. But I think we intentionally crafted this as the most liberal estimate possible—in other words, this is the most it could possibly be—the amount is $2.8 billion. That is, in essence, the value of what Opus Dei owns.
Now let's try to put that in some kind of context. The cash value of the assets of the Archdiocese of Chicago in the United States is $2.5 billion. In other words, Opus Dei worldwide owns roughly what the Archdiocese of Chicago by itself in the United States has.
To take another example, there is a lay Catholic organization in the United States called the Knights of Columbus that has an insurance program that by itself is capitalized at a value of more than $6 billion. In other words, the Knights of Columbus insurance program is two-and-a-half times wealthier than Opus Dei's total set of assets.
Now, I think it's important to say this because there are all kinds of impressions—I think terribly exaggerated impressions—about Opus Dei's wealth. For example, there was a book in the early 1990s that suggested that Opus Dei operated a financial empire that rivaled General Motors. Well, ladies and gentlemen, last year General Motors reported assets of $455 billion. By that standard, Opus Dei simply does not compete.
And if I were to run through for you other common perceptions of Opus Dei—such as its influence in secular politics, its influence inside the Catholic Church, its much-vaunted recruiting machinery—I think what we would find is a similar pattern, which is, to paraphrase Gertrude Stein, there's not much there there. In other words, to be honest, this is a group that has a much more modest sociological, political, and financial profile than overheated, feverish imaginations sometimes suggest.
Let's shift to category two; that is, questions about which at the end of the day there still remain legitimate debate, legitimate diversity of opinion. Any number of things we could talk about here.
But let me pick up what is usually the very first question I am asked, in the Anglo-Saxon world at least, by media, which is Opus Dei's practice of corporal mortification, or to put it in lay terms, self-inflicted pain. There are two forms of this corporal mortification practiced by Opus Dei members.
Now, I should say before I get into that that there are different kinds of Opus Dei members. They have 85,000 members worldwide. I suppose the basic difference is between numeraries, who are celibate Opus Dei members who live in Opus Dei centers; and supernumeraries, who are typically married, have families, have jobs in the outside world, and so on. The supernumeraries are about 70 percent of Opus Dei's total membership; the numeraries are 20 percent; then there are about 1,800 Opus Dei priests, which are about 10 percent of the total membership.
It is the celibate members of Opus Dei, meaning the numeraries and priests, who practice these forms of corporal mortification. In other words, it's a minority of Opus Dei's total membership that do these things.
As I say, there are two. One is something called the cilice, which is a sort of barbed chain that is tied around the upper thigh and is worn for two hours a day every day except Sunday. Then there is a discipline, which is a small cloth whip that is administered to the back once a week, usually while reciting a prayer, the "Our Father," or something like that.
Now, let me say, contrary to what you may have read in The Da Vinci Code, these things do not break the skin; they do not cause massive bleeding. They do not whip you into frenzies of spiritual exaltation. For this book I wore the cilice for my mandatory two hours, and I did try the discipline briefly. I can tell you, while they are uncomfortable, I didn't find them exceptionally painful. To be honest with you, when my wife will goad me into going to the gym to try and run a mile, I find that a lot more uncomfortable than either of these two things.
Having said that, let me try to explain how Opus Dei understands the spiritual logic. In other words, why do it? It is three-fold. The first is to remind one in a physical way of the consequences of sin. The second is to identify with the suffering in the world. The third is to identify oneself with the suffering of Christ on the cross.
It should be said about this that these are practices with a rich pedigree in Catholic spirituality. Great saints of the Church, past and present, have done these things, from Dominic and Francis in the 12th and 13th centuries to in the 20th century people such as Padre Pio, Pope Paul VI, Mother Teresa—all of them engaged in these practices. Prior to the Second Vatican Council, these were, I think, almost universally practiced inside Catholic seminaries and religious orders and so on.
Nevertheless, in the post-Vatican II period, they have been, I would say, largely abandoned in mainstream Catholic life. I suppose the primary reason has been concern about the potential for abuse. That is, I think it is somewhat seductive for an idealistic young person to believe that if a little bit of pain is good, then a lot of it must be great, and so there is this tendency to push towards excess.
Now, Opus Dei members will tell you—and I think they are telling the truth, in my experience—that they are very vigilant about that sort of thing, that they are very careful to insist that this must be done in moderation.
They also say that, frankly, these two practices are a very minor piece of the broader picture of mortification—that is, a kind of denial of self and sacrifice for others—as they understand it. I mean they will always say that going without a cup of coffee, or taking out the garbage when it is not your turn, is just as valid a form of mortification, and that, frankly, you could take away these two things, that is the cilice and the discipline, without changing very much about Opus Dei's spiritual understanding and spiritual practice.
Again, I will tell you that, having said all that, at the end of the day, there still are a lot of people—and again I say rational, well-meaning people, who have no fight to pick with Opus Dei—who will still find these practices hard to understand and hard to accept, either at an aesthetic level, since they will just find them kind of repugnant; or they will find them, frankly, self-destructive, and therefore just very difficult to get their minds around. I think in that sense—and there are any number of other examples—Opus Dei is, to some extent, a sign of contraction; that is, it is deliberately, self-consciously swimming against the tide of much contemporary Catholic opinion, to say nothing of the thought patterns and presumptions of the broader secular world.
To read the rest of the discussion, please see John Allen and Joanne Myers in Carnegie Council .
Introduction
JOANNE MYERS: Good morning. I'm Joanne Myers, Director of Public Affairs Programs, and on behalf of the Carnegie Council I'd like to thank you all for joining us this morning as we welcome John Allen, our fifth speaker in our series on Religion and Politics. Today he will be discussing Opus Dei: The First Objective Look Behind the Myths and Reality of the Most Controversial Force in the Catholic Church.
So just what is the truth about Opus Dei? Is it actually doing the quiet work of His Holiness, or is it a human instrument of power and control, out to effect a covert and hostile takeover of the Church?
Remarks
JOHN ALLEN: Thank you. Good morning. Let me just make a couple of observations on the basis of that very gracious introduction. First of all, you should know that there is actually a member of Opus Dei named Silas. However, unfortunately, he's a short black guy, as opposed to an albino monk roaming the earth in search of the enemies of the Church.
Secondly, it is of course true that I wrote a book called The Rise of Benedict XVI, and I was actually asked just before this talk if the Holy Father had had any reaction to the book. I can pass along to you the message that indeed he did.
You should know about this book that it was a sort of tripartite effort. The first was the last days of John Paul II. The second component was the story of the Conclave for the election of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger as Pope. The third was a kind of projection of where this pontificate is going to go.
Now, the Holy Father read the book over his summer vacation in Val d'Aosta in the north of Italy, and then sent back a message through his spokesperson, Joaquin Navarro-Valls, saying, "Would you please thank Herr Allen for having written this book, among other things, because he has discussed the future of my pontificate, saving me the trouble of thinking about it for myself." So whatever else you may think, at least the Holy Father has a sense of humor.
I'm delighted to be here with you this morning to talk about the subject of Opus Dei. What I would like to do first of all, is say just a couple of brief words about the perspective I bring to the subject; give you some essentials about Opus Dei, a sort of Opus Dei 101 if you like; talk about a couple of the most common controversies that have surrounded Opus Dei; and then perhaps, given the particular interest of this audience, say just a couple of words about the foreign policy, so to speak, that is the political concerns of the Holy See, and how groups such as Opus Dei might fit into that.
First, to begin, the perspective I bring. I am what the Italians call a Vaticanista, which means that it is my full-time professional work to follow the goings-on in this 108-acre island of ecclesiastical life in the heart of Rome that we call the Vatican.
Concretely, that means that when a visiting dignitary is in to see the Holy Father, often I go up to the papal apartment to cover the event. Most recently, I was there for the farewell visit of Prime Minister Kwasniewski from Poland just last Friday. It means I travel when the Pope travels, so I traveled to twenty-five countries with John Paul II, and on and on. Concretely, I think what that allows me to do is see some of the complexities of the Vatican and the Universal Church.
I'd like to tell you a very quick anecdote to drive that point home. You may know that when the Pope travels, he does so in a dual capacity. He is both, of course, a head of state—the Holy See is a sovereign entity in international law that exchanges ambassadors with 174 countries and international organizations. He is also, of course, the head of the Catholic Church. So when he arrives in a foreign country, he is welcomed twice: once in a very formal setting, usually by the president or prime minister of the host country; again, usually in a much less formal setting, on behalf of the local Church, often by the President of the Bishops Conference; by the Primate, if this country has a historical Primate; and in some cases, if it's a very small country, by the Papal Nuncio—that's the Pope's ambassador in that country.
This particular story is set on a trip to Eastern Europe, to a country that had a very, very small Catholic community. It's actually Azerbaijan, which has all of 114 Catholics. I ran the math, and it would have actually been four times less expensive to bring all of those Catholics to Rome than to bring the Holy Father to Azerbaijan. But in any event, obviously that wasn't the point.
The greeting for the Holy Father, the second greeting in this case, was delivered by the Pope's Nuncio, who is a very lovely Italian monsignor, a wonderful man, but has a reputation—and I have to tell you it's a well-deserved reputation— as a bit of a windbag; that is, he goes on and on, and often, the mystery is, without saying very much.
On this particular day, I actually clocked his greeting for the Holy Father at forty minutes. Bear in mind, ladies and gentlemen, this is a twenty-four-hour trip. We actually thought the Holy Father would be back in Rome before this guy was done welcoming him. I happened to be in the pool covering the welcome, so I was at the end of one row of seats. Immediately across the aisle was the seguito, the papal entourage, the cardinals and other Vatican officials who travel with the Pope. So I was more or less immediately next to a very senior Vatican cardinal—a man I know, I've interviewed him several times. I could tell as this oration was winding on that our cardinal friend was becoming increasingly frustrated. I mean you can tell these things. You don't have to be a genius. His breathing was becoming heavy, eyes were rolling in the back of his head, and veins were throbbing on his forehead, and so forth.
And so, at a certain stage, I felt I needed to give him an opportunity to vent. So I leaned into the cardinal and I said to him, "Cardinal, what do you think?" Well, there was this sort of nanosecond of hesitation, where you could tell he was calculating, "Should I say this; should I not say it?" ? but it was obvious he needed to get this off his chest. So, in sotto voce fashion, he leaned into me and, looking up at this monsignor going on and on and saying nothing, the cardinal whispered to me, "You realize that some Italian village is missing its idiot."
[Laughter.]
Now, in addition to being a once-in-a-career punch line, this anecdote makes a valuable point, which is that only seen from afar could the Vatican look like a "Stepford Wives" environment in which everyone looks alike and dresses alike and thinks alike and acts alike. The truth is it is much more polychrome than that. There are many different personalities, temperaments, styles, outlooks, visions, and so on. I hope what my experience enables me to do is to bring some of that complexity to bear.
I want to do that on the subject of Opus Dei as well, because I think Opus Dei is a topic that is so often dealt with through the prism of myth and sweeping overgeneralization. That is, I think the conversation about Opus Dei often generates far more heat than light.
I hope what we can do today, I hope what I was able to accomplish in the book, is bring a somewhat more complex, and I think nuanced, approach to the subject. In terms of the importance of this subject, let me just very quickly say that in addition to the vast public fascination with this organization, most prominently carried of course in The Da Vinci Code—and that would sort of be the journalistic motive for tackling this project —let me just say a brief word about my motivation as a Catholic for turning my attention to this subject.
I think the truth is that inside the Catholic Church we often have a problem with sustaining rational conversation across party lines. The Catholic Church is, I think, in too many ways today, a house divided against itself. My hunch about this subject was that if we can clear a space in which we can have a patient, rational, understanding conversation on this subject, then it could be a model for how we could do so on any number of other contentious topics. That said, let me give you a few basic points about Opus Dei that I think will help our understanding.
As was said in the introduction, Opus Dei was founded in Madrid, in Spain, in October 1928, on the Feast of the Guardian Angels, by a Spanish priest by the name of Josemaria Escrivá. I think it is important to contextualize what was going on in European Catholicism at that moment. In addition to the fact of the intra-Spanish context, that this was the run-up to the civil war, I think the broader context was there was great ferment in the Catholic Church in the early 20th century about what was seen as—and I think rightly so—a growing gap between the Church and secular modernity; in other words, this tendency to think of religion—"Catholicity," if you like—as a kind of private compartmentalized experience, that, whatever it might mean to the individual believer, had precious little relevance to the broader cultural context—the political debate, economic systems, and so on. There were a number of organizations in the Catholic Church, and creative thinkers in the Catholic Church, that were trying to imagine ways to breach that gap. I think that's the context in which the foundation on which Opus Dei needs to be located.
Escrivá's vision—which, of course, according to his testimony and the tradition of Opus Dei, was a vision revealed to him by God—was the creation of a core of Catholic laity who would be well formed in the spirituality and doctrine of the Catholic Church and then would take that formation and apply it to whatever path of life they happened to find themselves in. So you would have lay Catholic bankers and lay Catholic politicians and lay Catholic architects and teachers and bus drivers and bakers and so on, who would see the ordinary details of their daily work not merely as an opportunity for their own sanctification—that is, making themselves holy—but as an opportunity for transforming the world.
In other words, the idea was that if we want to change secular modernity, we cannot do it from the outside, with a clerical cast wagging its finger at lay people and exhorting them to do moral things; it had to be done from the inside-out, by people who were in and of the secular world, imagining a Christian vision of what secularity and secular modernity might look like and then bringing it about.
Now, as obvious as that may seem with the benefit of seventy years of experience, I think it's worth saying that this was a direct frontal challenge to much of Catholic spirituality and much of Catholic attitudes towards the secular world at the time. Let me make two points.
First, it was a challenge to the kind of clericalist ethos that was, I think, overwhelming, particularly in Spanish Catholicism at the time, in which the clergy were seen as the primary actors in the drama of redemption, and the role of laity was, in the classic formula, to pray, pay, and obey.
Escrivá turned that directly on its head. He said: "No. The clergy are a supporting cast, they are at best a support system, and the real work of redemption and transformation, sanctification, has to be done by laity who are fully immersed in the highways and byways of modern life and bringing a Christian spirit to it." In that sense, I think we can fairly say that Escrivá was in a way a prophet, a visionary, of the Second Vatican Council, which would of course arrive in Catholicism in the mid-1960s, which would herald in the era of the laity.
It has been fairly said that, whatever Opus Dei's profile today may be, however traditionalist or conservative one may see it as, at least in this sense there is no question that they were ahead of the curve in terms of announcing and embracing a much more active and dynamic vision of the lay role.
Secondly, the other sense in which Opus Dei, I think, in Escrivá's vision, was an inversion of what was traditional Catholic thinking is he insisted that the modern street or the boardroom or the assembly hall of a parliament is every bit as religious an environment as a church building. In other words, if you want to have a religious vocation, you do not have to retreat into a monastery; quite the contrary, you can be a seriously engaged, deeply committed, religious person and see in a sense the sacrifice of your work at a board table as every bit as important, as every bit as crucial, an act of sanctification, as the sacrifice that a priest performs on the altar when he consecrates the bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ. This, too, was very much a challenge to what was contemporary spiritual understanding inside the Catholic Church of his day.
I think it's important to make these points, because my observation is that in much public discussion about Opus Dei we concentrate—I think legitimately so—on matters that are in many ways peripheral to Opus Dei's core message —that is, debates over Opus Dei's money or power or the role of women or corporal mortification. Again, there is a perfectly legitimate conversation to be had about these topics, but the risk is that we miss what Opus Dei actually purports to be about.
The analogy that I came up with in the course of my research is that most writing and journalistic commentary on Opus Dei is similar to doing a book on General Motors without mentioning that they make cars. In other words, you're not quite getting to the core of what this organization is all about.
Now, having said all of that, let me then turn a couple of those controversies. Obviously, I can't pretend to be all-embracing—we could spend considerably more time than we have talking about all of the different question marks and myths and concerns about Opus Dei that have grown up over the years. What I want to do is pick up a couple that I think are representative, and then, obviously, I'm happy to respond to any questions you have.
In my experience, in looking at the most common public controversies surrounding Opus Dei, I think you can separate them into two categories. There are those concerns that dissolve upon contact—that is, once you take a hard look at them, they go away. Then, there are those that, even after you have made a sustained, deliberate effort to try to understand it from the inside-out, rational, well-meaning people without an axe to grind are going to draw very different conclusions.
I want to offer you an example of each. First, let's talk about Opus Dei's wealth. As you undoubtedly are aware, there is a public perception that Opus Dei is an enormously wealthy organization, sitting on secret bags of cash, and that over the years this has generated conspiracy theories, such as that Opus Dei bailed out the Vatican Bank in the late 1970s when it was, to put it euphemistically, "having difficulties"; and that Opus Dei funneled money to Solidarity in Poland, and in so doing essentially bought the allegiance of the future Pope, John Paul II.
It's easy enough to understand where perceptions like this come from. If you have ever been, for example, to the Opus Dei headquarters here in New York, at 34th and Lexington, that seventeen-story building jokingly known as "the tower or power," it is a fairly imposing edifice and it is fairly sumptuously appointed when you poke around inside. So you understand where the perceptions come from.
But what we did in this book, for the first time, is actually run the numbers. So let me tell you what the numbers are and then try to put them in some context for you.
The primary Opus Dei operations around the world are what are known inside Opus Dei as "corporate works," that is, activities for which Opus Dei guarantees the spiritual and doctrinal formation. This includes a series of universities, schools, hospitals, social service centers, and so on.
In the United States, if you add up the cash value of all of those Opus Dei operations— that is, the total assets of everything that is connected to Opus Dei in the country—you arrive at a figure of $344 million. If you do the same thing for the globe—that is, the cash value of all of Opus Dei's activities around the world—and here I have to say that while that $344 million is a hard number, because of the differences in accounting requirements in various parts of the world, the global number is a best guess. But I think we intentionally crafted this as the most liberal estimate possible—in other words, this is the most it could possibly be—the amount is $2.8 billion. That is, in essence, the value of what Opus Dei owns.
Now let's try to put that in some kind of context. The cash value of the assets of the Archdiocese of Chicago in the United States is $2.5 billion. In other words, Opus Dei worldwide owns roughly what the Archdiocese of Chicago by itself in the United States has.
To take another example, there is a lay Catholic organization in the United States called the Knights of Columbus that has an insurance program that by itself is capitalized at a value of more than $6 billion. In other words, the Knights of Columbus insurance program is two-and-a-half times wealthier than Opus Dei's total set of assets.
Now, I think it's important to say this because there are all kinds of impressions—I think terribly exaggerated impressions—about Opus Dei's wealth. For example, there was a book in the early 1990s that suggested that Opus Dei operated a financial empire that rivaled General Motors. Well, ladies and gentlemen, last year General Motors reported assets of $455 billion. By that standard, Opus Dei simply does not compete.
And if I were to run through for you other common perceptions of Opus Dei—such as its influence in secular politics, its influence inside the Catholic Church, its much-vaunted recruiting machinery—I think what we would find is a similar pattern, which is, to paraphrase Gertrude Stein, there's not much there there. In other words, to be honest, this is a group that has a much more modest sociological, political, and financial profile than overheated, feverish imaginations sometimes suggest.
Let's shift to category two; that is, questions about which at the end of the day there still remain legitimate debate, legitimate diversity of opinion. Any number of things we could talk about here.
But let me pick up what is usually the very first question I am asked, in the Anglo-Saxon world at least, by media, which is Opus Dei's practice of corporal mortification, or to put it in lay terms, self-inflicted pain. There are two forms of this corporal mortification practiced by Opus Dei members.
Now, I should say before I get into that that there are different kinds of Opus Dei members. They have 85,000 members worldwide. I suppose the basic difference is between numeraries, who are celibate Opus Dei members who live in Opus Dei centers; and supernumeraries, who are typically married, have families, have jobs in the outside world, and so on. The supernumeraries are about 70 percent of Opus Dei's total membership; the numeraries are 20 percent; then there are about 1,800 Opus Dei priests, which are about 10 percent of the total membership.
It is the celibate members of Opus Dei, meaning the numeraries and priests, who practice these forms of corporal mortification. In other words, it's a minority of Opus Dei's total membership that do these things.
As I say, there are two. One is something called the cilice, which is a sort of barbed chain that is tied around the upper thigh and is worn for two hours a day every day except Sunday. Then there is a discipline, which is a small cloth whip that is administered to the back once a week, usually while reciting a prayer, the "Our Father," or something like that.
Now, let me say, contrary to what you may have read in The Da Vinci Code, these things do not break the skin; they do not cause massive bleeding. They do not whip you into frenzies of spiritual exaltation. For this book I wore the cilice for my mandatory two hours, and I did try the discipline briefly. I can tell you, while they are uncomfortable, I didn't find them exceptionally painful. To be honest with you, when my wife will goad me into going to the gym to try and run a mile, I find that a lot more uncomfortable than either of these two things.
Having said that, let me try to explain how Opus Dei understands the spiritual logic. In other words, why do it? It is three-fold. The first is to remind one in a physical way of the consequences of sin. The second is to identify with the suffering in the world. The third is to identify oneself with the suffering of Christ on the cross.
It should be said about this that these are practices with a rich pedigree in Catholic spirituality. Great saints of the Church, past and present, have done these things, from Dominic and Francis in the 12th and 13th centuries to in the 20th century people such as Padre Pio, Pope Paul VI, Mother Teresa—all of them engaged in these practices. Prior to the Second Vatican Council, these were, I think, almost universally practiced inside Catholic seminaries and religious orders and so on.
Nevertheless, in the post-Vatican II period, they have been, I would say, largely abandoned in mainstream Catholic life. I suppose the primary reason has been concern about the potential for abuse. That is, I think it is somewhat seductive for an idealistic young person to believe that if a little bit of pain is good, then a lot of it must be great, and so there is this tendency to push towards excess.
Now, Opus Dei members will tell you—and I think they are telling the truth, in my experience—that they are very vigilant about that sort of thing, that they are very careful to insist that this must be done in moderation.
They also say that, frankly, these two practices are a very minor piece of the broader picture of mortification—that is, a kind of denial of self and sacrifice for others—as they understand it. I mean they will always say that going without a cup of coffee, or taking out the garbage when it is not your turn, is just as valid a form of mortification, and that, frankly, you could take away these two things, that is the cilice and the discipline, without changing very much about Opus Dei's spiritual understanding and spiritual practice.
Again, I will tell you that, having said all that, at the end of the day, there still are a lot of people—and again I say rational, well-meaning people, who have no fight to pick with Opus Dei—who will still find these practices hard to understand and hard to accept, either at an aesthetic level, since they will just find them kind of repugnant; or they will find them, frankly, self-destructive, and therefore just very difficult to get their minds around. I think in that sense—and there are any number of other examples—Opus Dei is, to some extent, a sign of contraction; that is, it is deliberately, self-consciously swimming against the tide of much contemporary Catholic opinion, to say nothing of the thought patterns and presumptions of the broader secular world.
To read the rest of the discussion, please see John Allen and Joanne Myers in Carnegie Council .
ABC News: Q & A on Opus Dei
ABC News and Brian Finnerty, Opus Dei Spokesman
Q: Opus Dei's core message of lay spirituality has always been a component of the Christian faith, so what makes Opus Dei different?
Finnerty: "I think lay spirituality is something that has been in the church from the very beginning, but it's something which often has been forgotten. That focus on the universal call to holiness, and that idea that the activities of daily life, and especially work, can be a path to holiness, that idea is something which is particularly characteristic of Opus Dei. There's no other institution of the church which is really set up to spread that message."
Q: How does Opus Dei's message of lay spirituality actually impact what one does in the workplace?
Finnerty: "Recognizing that I'm going to work today not so that I can earn money, but because it's a way that I can serve God, in God's act of creation.
"Another aspect of it as well is simply trying to do the work well. Trying to do your best work that you possible can. And it means trying to be a good friend to the people around you …. Trying to live your various Christian virtues at work.
Another aspect as well is trying to do your work realizing you're in the presence of God. There are some concrete ways that you can do in order to help promote that. One thing that people are encouraged to do is start the day with a little prayer at their desk. It doesn't have to be anything flashy or anything like that, it can be like, 'Dear God, I offer up the work to you I'm going to do today.' Or it could be you have a little cross at your desk."
Q: Why do Opus Dei numeraries and associates commit to a life of celibacy?
Finnerty: They "live apostolic celibacy in order to be available to help carry out the apostles of Opus Dei …
"Because, if someone is an engineer or something like that, he can communicate what it's like to try to live the Christian faith in the middle of the world better perhaps, or in certain ways that a priest can't. It's useful to have lay people that are available to help set up activities in Kansas or Milwaukee or wherever. And that's something you can't ask a married person, who has sometimes a commitment to their natural family, in the same way …."
Q: Opus Dei's core message of lay spirituality has always been a component of the Christian faith, so what makes Opus Dei different?
Finnerty: "I think lay spirituality is something that has been in the church from the very beginning, but it's something which often has been forgotten. That focus on the universal call to holiness, and that idea that the activities of daily life, and especially work, can be a path to holiness, that idea is something which is particularly characteristic of Opus Dei. There's no other institution of the church which is really set up to spread that message."
Q: How does Opus Dei's message of lay spirituality actually impact what one does in the workplace?
Finnerty: "Recognizing that I'm going to work today not so that I can earn money, but because it's a way that I can serve God, in God's act of creation.
"Another aspect of it as well is simply trying to do the work well. Trying to do your best work that you possible can. And it means trying to be a good friend to the people around you …. Trying to live your various Christian virtues at work.
Another aspect as well is trying to do your work realizing you're in the presence of God. There are some concrete ways that you can do in order to help promote that. One thing that people are encouraged to do is start the day with a little prayer at their desk. It doesn't have to be anything flashy or anything like that, it can be like, 'Dear God, I offer up the work to you I'm going to do today.' Or it could be you have a little cross at your desk."
Q: Why do Opus Dei numeraries and associates commit to a life of celibacy?
Finnerty: They "live apostolic celibacy in order to be available to help carry out the apostles of Opus Dei …
"Because, if someone is an engineer or something like that, he can communicate what it's like to try to live the Christian faith in the middle of the world better perhaps, or in certain ways that a priest can't. It's useful to have lay people that are available to help set up activities in Kansas or Milwaukee or wherever. And that's something you can't ask a married person, who has sometimes a commitment to their natural family, in the same way …."
Sunday, October 18, 2009
The Church that grew out of crayons
By Michael Coren in Catholic Herald.
16 October 2009
Michael Coren's heart sank when he first encountered Canadian Catholicism. But today he is proud of the country's vibrant Catholic life
It was 1986. The great brown crayon disaster of Holy Name church in Toronto, Canada's largest city. I'd been received into the Church two years earlier in London's sumptuous Spanish Place and convinced of the Catholic argument by Chesterton, Belloc, Knox and Newman.
It was because I was writing a biography of the former than I'd been invited to Canada to give a lecture at a G K Chesterton 50th anniversary conference (he died in 1936). I met a woman at the post-conference cocktail party who told me I "was amazing". Convinced this would never happen again, I would marry her the following year.
During the transatlantic courting visits I attended a large weekend Catholic gathering held by an influential and charismatic priest where we were lectured by a middle-aged woman psychiatrist with an eastern European accent straight out of central casting. She asked us to pick up a crayon from the middle of the room and colour in a picture. Bemused, almost incredulous, I grabbed the closet crayon and coloured away, assuming that my wife to be was somehow a follower of all this. She now, by the way, pretends not to have been present.
The lady professor from middle Europe looked through the 40 or 50 papers and then stopped at one in particular. I knew. Just knew.
"Who is Michael" - awful pronunciation - "Coren?" Seven years old again, I owned up.
"Agh", she said, all Freud and tweed, "so why did you only use the colour brown?"
"Because," I almost shouted, "it was the only bloody crayon left!"
Thus was my welcome to the Canadian Roman Catholic Church.
Canada is one of those geopolitical mysteries. Like Costa Rica's peacefulness or the beauty of Bruges. People just don't usually know. Thirty million people, incredibly wealthy, absurdly large, enormously successful, culturally and artistically fertile and often a predictor of what the United States will become 10 years later. But because it's a former British colony and on top of the world's only superpower it's often forgotten, ignored.
And it rather likes it that way.
Similarly with the Canadian Church. There are more than 13 million Catholics in Canada, 44 per cent of the population. There are eight million Protestants of various denominations, the largest claiming to be the United Church, at around half a million members. It's the most liberal of the churches and is haemorrhaging adherents. As are the Anglicans and the Presbyterians. Unlike the US, Evangelicals, at around 11 per cent, they are not a major force. Immigration has, of course, enormously increased the Hindu, Sikh and, in particular, Muslim communities.
There is an extensive, publicly funded Catholic education system in the country, a small Catholic television station and in the past two generations it's been unusual to have a prime minister who is not Catholic. Of a sort. Liberals Pierre Trudeau, Paul Martin, Jean Chrétien and John Turner and conservatives Brian Mulroney and Joe Clark were all nominal Catholics, with one or two of them claiming to attend Mass and perhaps even sometimes doing so. They also governed a country that is unique in the western world in having no abortion laws at all - publicly funded up to the ninth month and all sorts of laws to prevent protests outside abortion clinics. Canada was also the fourth country to introduce full same-sex marriage and had led the world in same-sex adoption and hate crime prosecutions of people who criticise the gay community just a little too much. Not that these issues are exclusively Catholic or the only issues facing the Church, but they are fairly reliable guide as to the social and political influence of Catholics within any state. Briefly, there are lots of people calling themselves Catholic in Canada, lots of people in Catholic churches in Sunday but still a crisis within Catholic Canada. Or at least there was.
At around the time when brown crayons were causing such a fuss, orthodox Catholics were considered eccentric and often regarded themselves, not altogether inaccurately, as victims. Perhaps the most influential Church newspaper was something called The Catholic New Times, referred to by those who knew it best as "Sandinista Update". The usual stuff - social justice, a preferential option for the poor, Liberation Theology and female ordination. The Church was wrong before Vatican II and John Paul didn't understand its true meaning. I demonstrate therefore I am, and a devotion to Marx rather than Mary. Or no, not Marx at all really. These were the middle class at play and prayer, frightened of leaving the Church and too timid to describe themselves as socialist. This may be Canada rather than the US but socialism is still considered extreme.
Vocations were rare, convents evaporated as feminist nuns positively dissuaded young women by example and even by argument from joining, and unions in Catholic schools made it virtually impossible for headmasters to ask potential teachers about their faith. It was a bleak time and many serious believers left for the Society of Pius X, Eastern Orthodoxy or evangelicalism. The best and the bravest stuck at it, argued that there had been worse in the past, that God would not abandon His Church.
Twenty years later it has not all been resolved but every change and reform is positive and every indication is that the worst has gone and that, while the detritus of what was still causes problems, it's going to be OK. Some of the reasons are obvious; most importantly, two popes who changed everything. While some of the Canadian bishops acted as if Rome did not exist, there was only so much denial that they could hide behind. They were also men of the Sixties and in their 60s and most of them have now retired. It must be deeply painful for them to watch as new bishops are appointed who are younger, often better educated and invariably far more conservative.
These new leaders were formed under John Paul and the Catholic counter-culture that developed during his reign, arguably more vehemently in North America than anywhere else. They were allowed to be thus formed because - important this - there was a revolution within Canadian seminary life. Two major causes. First, widespread immigration, in particular from China, Vietnam, Poland and the Philippines, sent waves of young men into seminaries who had often experienced Communism firsthand and were jubilantly orthodox. Very difficult for a bearded suburban liberal in sandals to tell a hardened young refugee from a Marxist paradise about injustice and why there "had to be a new paradigm shift and a new conversation of dialogue between the people of Jesus and the people of socialism".
Second, there was a great cleansing following the infamous abuse scandal. Canada was hit hard by this and the Canadian Church, as opposed to the media, knew exactly what was going on. The extensive and admirably balanced New York University study of the phenomenon concluded that more than 85 per cent of the victims were not so much little boys as young men who had reached puberty. Most of them were aged between 13 and 17. In fact, there were surprisingly few girls or very young boys. This did not suggest that homosexual men were more likely to be abusers, and no serious commentator made that conclusion, but it did suggest that most of the abuse from priests was of a homosexual nature rather than paedophiliac. Entire seminaries lost staff and students. It's no coincidence that in one of the largest, where there were alleged cases of bed-sharing and worse, a seminarian was required to obtain permission to initiate a group rosary. It is now compulsory.
The seminaries are not full but are growing steadily and the quality of the vocations is higher than ever.
In the greater Church two groups in particular engaged in a sort of stealth orthodoxy in those troubled years, Opus Dei and the Oratory. Opus Dei has always had its centre in Quebec, where, although overwhelmingly French and ostensibly Catholic, the Church is probably less popular than in any other Canadian province. The energy and passion of French-Canadians was injected into battles of over language and nationalism and the Church was seen as irrelevant and even an obstacle to change. Opus Dei developed in English Canada in the Seventies and established schools, organisations and a dormitory at the University of Toronto and chaplaincies elsewhere. It became the hub for serious Catholics, lay and religious, whether they were members or not. It gave support to those who felt isolated and marginalised in their parishes and kept a flame burning that had been as good as extinguished elsewhere.
The Oratory, led by a remarkable priest named Fr Jonathan Robinson, moved into a small, old church in the Toronto district of Parkdale, an area known for prostitution, drugs and being used by the authorities as a place to house the mentally ill. The Oratorians flourished in this glorious juxtaposition - intellectual, refined, committed followers of Newman and Neri living and working in some of the most difficult conditions the country faced. Masses for the masses. The church would eventually burn down and in its place the community raised enough money to build a new church that has a monastic, light-on-the-hill, reputation and presence. Yet while they were successful, the priests of the Oratory were obliged to keep a fairly low profile. There was resentment and opposition and little support from bishops and archbishops.
Fast forward to the present and Opus Dei is growing and part of the mainstream. The Oratory has two parishes, a seminary, young priests and probably the finest philosophy school in the country. The new Archbishop of Toronto, the most senior cleric in English Canada, is a visitor to the church and a genuine supporter of the work they do. He sends students to their schools. The appointment of Thomas Collins to the Toronto archbishopric is an inspired move. He a deeply pastoral man but also something of an intellectual, a fine preacher, media-savvy and with an utter commitment to his priests, his flock and to the historic Church.
This new sense of liberation has allowed the Sisters of Life, founded by the late Archbishop of New York John Cardinal O'Connor, to come to Canada for the first time and the Latin Mass in various forms is now celebrated in several parishes. It's not, though, and never should be about the Latin but about the reverence, and this is what is now most apparent in the Canadian Church. While there are still colossal problems within Catholic education in this country, and millions of Catholics who have no idea what they are supposed to believe, the dominant context has shifted and the sacraments, papal authority, the place of the Church in modern society and the importance of Catholic culture have become startlingly immediate.
I suppose they always were, but the perception is different now and the assumptions have been transformed. While orthodoxy varies from diocese to diocese, very few devout and serious Catholics now regard themselves as being alone and in the besieged minority.
As for The Catholic New Times, it folded because nobody was reading it. The poor old brown crayon? The rumour is it became a New Age devotee of internet paganism and left Canada long ago. It will not be missed.
Michael Coren is a television host and columnist in Canada. His website is www.michaelcoren.com
16 October 2009
Michael Coren's heart sank when he first encountered Canadian Catholicism. But today he is proud of the country's vibrant Catholic life
It was 1986. The great brown crayon disaster of Holy Name church in Toronto, Canada's largest city. I'd been received into the Church two years earlier in London's sumptuous Spanish Place and convinced of the Catholic argument by Chesterton, Belloc, Knox and Newman.
It was because I was writing a biography of the former than I'd been invited to Canada to give a lecture at a G K Chesterton 50th anniversary conference (he died in 1936). I met a woman at the post-conference cocktail party who told me I "was amazing". Convinced this would never happen again, I would marry her the following year.
During the transatlantic courting visits I attended a large weekend Catholic gathering held by an influential and charismatic priest where we were lectured by a middle-aged woman psychiatrist with an eastern European accent straight out of central casting. She asked us to pick up a crayon from the middle of the room and colour in a picture. Bemused, almost incredulous, I grabbed the closet crayon and coloured away, assuming that my wife to be was somehow a follower of all this. She now, by the way, pretends not to have been present.
The lady professor from middle Europe looked through the 40 or 50 papers and then stopped at one in particular. I knew. Just knew.
"Who is Michael" - awful pronunciation - "Coren?" Seven years old again, I owned up.
"Agh", she said, all Freud and tweed, "so why did you only use the colour brown?"
"Because," I almost shouted, "it was the only bloody crayon left!"
Thus was my welcome to the Canadian Roman Catholic Church.
Canada is one of those geopolitical mysteries. Like Costa Rica's peacefulness or the beauty of Bruges. People just don't usually know. Thirty million people, incredibly wealthy, absurdly large, enormously successful, culturally and artistically fertile and often a predictor of what the United States will become 10 years later. But because it's a former British colony and on top of the world's only superpower it's often forgotten, ignored.
And it rather likes it that way.
Similarly with the Canadian Church. There are more than 13 million Catholics in Canada, 44 per cent of the population. There are eight million Protestants of various denominations, the largest claiming to be the United Church, at around half a million members. It's the most liberal of the churches and is haemorrhaging adherents. As are the Anglicans and the Presbyterians. Unlike the US, Evangelicals, at around 11 per cent, they are not a major force. Immigration has, of course, enormously increased the Hindu, Sikh and, in particular, Muslim communities.
There is an extensive, publicly funded Catholic education system in the country, a small Catholic television station and in the past two generations it's been unusual to have a prime minister who is not Catholic. Of a sort. Liberals Pierre Trudeau, Paul Martin, Jean Chrétien and John Turner and conservatives Brian Mulroney and Joe Clark were all nominal Catholics, with one or two of them claiming to attend Mass and perhaps even sometimes doing so. They also governed a country that is unique in the western world in having no abortion laws at all - publicly funded up to the ninth month and all sorts of laws to prevent protests outside abortion clinics. Canada was also the fourth country to introduce full same-sex marriage and had led the world in same-sex adoption and hate crime prosecutions of people who criticise the gay community just a little too much. Not that these issues are exclusively Catholic or the only issues facing the Church, but they are fairly reliable guide as to the social and political influence of Catholics within any state. Briefly, there are lots of people calling themselves Catholic in Canada, lots of people in Catholic churches in Sunday but still a crisis within Catholic Canada. Or at least there was.
At around the time when brown crayons were causing such a fuss, orthodox Catholics were considered eccentric and often regarded themselves, not altogether inaccurately, as victims. Perhaps the most influential Church newspaper was something called The Catholic New Times, referred to by those who knew it best as "Sandinista Update". The usual stuff - social justice, a preferential option for the poor, Liberation Theology and female ordination. The Church was wrong before Vatican II and John Paul didn't understand its true meaning. I demonstrate therefore I am, and a devotion to Marx rather than Mary. Or no, not Marx at all really. These were the middle class at play and prayer, frightened of leaving the Church and too timid to describe themselves as socialist. This may be Canada rather than the US but socialism is still considered extreme.
Vocations were rare, convents evaporated as feminist nuns positively dissuaded young women by example and even by argument from joining, and unions in Catholic schools made it virtually impossible for headmasters to ask potential teachers about their faith. It was a bleak time and many serious believers left for the Society of Pius X, Eastern Orthodoxy or evangelicalism. The best and the bravest stuck at it, argued that there had been worse in the past, that God would not abandon His Church.
Twenty years later it has not all been resolved but every change and reform is positive and every indication is that the worst has gone and that, while the detritus of what was still causes problems, it's going to be OK. Some of the reasons are obvious; most importantly, two popes who changed everything. While some of the Canadian bishops acted as if Rome did not exist, there was only so much denial that they could hide behind. They were also men of the Sixties and in their 60s and most of them have now retired. It must be deeply painful for them to watch as new bishops are appointed who are younger, often better educated and invariably far more conservative.
These new leaders were formed under John Paul and the Catholic counter-culture that developed during his reign, arguably more vehemently in North America than anywhere else. They were allowed to be thus formed because - important this - there was a revolution within Canadian seminary life. Two major causes. First, widespread immigration, in particular from China, Vietnam, Poland and the Philippines, sent waves of young men into seminaries who had often experienced Communism firsthand and were jubilantly orthodox. Very difficult for a bearded suburban liberal in sandals to tell a hardened young refugee from a Marxist paradise about injustice and why there "had to be a new paradigm shift and a new conversation of dialogue between the people of Jesus and the people of socialism".
Second, there was a great cleansing following the infamous abuse scandal. Canada was hit hard by this and the Canadian Church, as opposed to the media, knew exactly what was going on. The extensive and admirably balanced New York University study of the phenomenon concluded that more than 85 per cent of the victims were not so much little boys as young men who had reached puberty. Most of them were aged between 13 and 17. In fact, there were surprisingly few girls or very young boys. This did not suggest that homosexual men were more likely to be abusers, and no serious commentator made that conclusion, but it did suggest that most of the abuse from priests was of a homosexual nature rather than paedophiliac. Entire seminaries lost staff and students. It's no coincidence that in one of the largest, where there were alleged cases of bed-sharing and worse, a seminarian was required to obtain permission to initiate a group rosary. It is now compulsory.
The seminaries are not full but are growing steadily and the quality of the vocations is higher than ever.
In the greater Church two groups in particular engaged in a sort of stealth orthodoxy in those troubled years, Opus Dei and the Oratory. Opus Dei has always had its centre in Quebec, where, although overwhelmingly French and ostensibly Catholic, the Church is probably less popular than in any other Canadian province. The energy and passion of French-Canadians was injected into battles of over language and nationalism and the Church was seen as irrelevant and even an obstacle to change. Opus Dei developed in English Canada in the Seventies and established schools, organisations and a dormitory at the University of Toronto and chaplaincies elsewhere. It became the hub for serious Catholics, lay and religious, whether they were members or not. It gave support to those who felt isolated and marginalised in their parishes and kept a flame burning that had been as good as extinguished elsewhere.
The Oratory, led by a remarkable priest named Fr Jonathan Robinson, moved into a small, old church in the Toronto district of Parkdale, an area known for prostitution, drugs and being used by the authorities as a place to house the mentally ill. The Oratorians flourished in this glorious juxtaposition - intellectual, refined, committed followers of Newman and Neri living and working in some of the most difficult conditions the country faced. Masses for the masses. The church would eventually burn down and in its place the community raised enough money to build a new church that has a monastic, light-on-the-hill, reputation and presence. Yet while they were successful, the priests of the Oratory were obliged to keep a fairly low profile. There was resentment and opposition and little support from bishops and archbishops.
Fast forward to the present and Opus Dei is growing and part of the mainstream. The Oratory has two parishes, a seminary, young priests and probably the finest philosophy school in the country. The new Archbishop of Toronto, the most senior cleric in English Canada, is a visitor to the church and a genuine supporter of the work they do. He sends students to their schools. The appointment of Thomas Collins to the Toronto archbishopric is an inspired move. He a deeply pastoral man but also something of an intellectual, a fine preacher, media-savvy and with an utter commitment to his priests, his flock and to the historic Church.
This new sense of liberation has allowed the Sisters of Life, founded by the late Archbishop of New York John Cardinal O'Connor, to come to Canada for the first time and the Latin Mass in various forms is now celebrated in several parishes. It's not, though, and never should be about the Latin but about the reverence, and this is what is now most apparent in the Canadian Church. While there are still colossal problems within Catholic education in this country, and millions of Catholics who have no idea what they are supposed to believe, the dominant context has shifted and the sacraments, papal authority, the place of the Church in modern society and the importance of Catholic culture have become startlingly immediate.
I suppose they always were, but the perception is different now and the assumptions have been transformed. While orthodoxy varies from diocese to diocese, very few devout and serious Catholics now regard themselves as being alone and in the besieged minority.
As for The Catholic New Times, it folded because nobody was reading it. The poor old brown crayon? The rumour is it became a New Age devotee of internet paganism and left Canada long ago. It will not be missed.
Michael Coren is a television host and columnist in Canada. His website is www.michaelcoren.com
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Cure for moral relativism? Be a saint
By Peter Kreeft
What is the cause, and cure of moral relativism? The real source of moral relativism is not any argument at all, and therefore its cure is not any refutation of an argument. Neither philosophy nor science nor logic nor common sense nor experience have ever refuted traditional moral absolutism. It is not reason, but the abdication of reason that is the source of moral relativism. Relativism is not rational, it is rationalization. It is not the conclusion of a rational argument. It is the rationalization of a prior action. It is the repudiation of the principle that passions must be evaluated by reason and controlled by will. That is the virtue Plato and Aristotle called self-control. It is not just one of the cardinal virtues, but a necessary ingredient in every virtue. That classical assumption is almost the definition of civilization. But romanticists, existentialists, Freudians, and many others have convinced many people in our culture that it is oppressive and unhealthy and inauthentic. If we embrace the opposite principle, and let passion govern reason, rather than reason govern passion, there is little hope for morality or for civilization.
The cure requires more than an argument
Obviously, the strongest and most attractive of the passions is sexual passion. It is therefore also the most addictive and the most blinding. So, there could hardly be a more powerful undermining of our moral knowledge and our moral life than the sexual revolution. Already, the demand for sexual freedom has overridden one of nature's strongest instincts: motherhood. A million mothers a year in America alone pay hired killers, who are called healers or physicians, to kill their own unborn daughters and sons. How could this happen? Only because abortion is driven by sexual motives. For abortion is backup birth control, and birth control is the demand to have sex without having babies. If the stork brought babies, there'd be no Planned Parenthood.
Divorce is a second example of the power of the sexual revolution to undermine basic moral principles. Suppose there were some other practice, not connected with sex, which had these three documentable results. First, betraying the person you claim to love the most, the person you had pledged your life to, betraying your solemn promise to her or him. Second, thereby abusing the children you had procreated and promised to protect, scarring their souls more infinitely than anything else except direct violent physical abuse, and making it far more difficult for them ever to attain happy lives or marriages. And thirdly, thereby harming, undermining, and perhaps destroying your society's future. Would not such a practice be universally condemned? Yet, that is exactly what divorce is, and it is universally accepted. Betrayal is universally condemned unless it is sexual. Justice, honesty, not doing other harms—these moral principles are affirmed, unless they interfere with sex.
We are designed for joy
The rest of traditional morality is still very widely believed and taught, even in TV sitcoms, soap operas, and Hollywood movies. The driving force of moral relativism seems to be almost exclusively sexual. Why this should be, and what we should do about it, are two further questions that demand much more time and thought than we have available here and now. But if you want a very short guess at an answer to both, here is the best I can do. I think a secularist has only one substitute left for God, only one experience in a desacrilized world that still gives him something like the mystical, self-transcending thrill of ecstasy that God designed all souls to have forever, and to long for until they have it. Unless he is a surfer, that experience has to be sex. We're designed for more than happiness; we're designed for joy. Aquinas writes, with simple logic, "Man cannot live without joy. That is why one deprived of true spiritual joys must spill over to carnal pleasures."
Drugs and alcohol are attractive because they claim to feed the same need. The lack the ontological greatness of sex, but they provide the same semi-mystical thrill: the transcendence of reason and self-consciousness. I do not mean this merely as moral condemnation, but as psychological analysis. In fact, though they sound shocking, I think the addict is closer to the deepest truth than the mere moralist. He is looking for the very best thing in some of the very worst places. His demand for a state in which he transcends morality is very wrong, but it's also very right. For we are designed for something beyond morality, something in which morality will be transformed. Mystical union with God. Sex is a sign and appetizer of that. Moral absolutists must never forget that morality, though absolute, is not ultimate. It is not our Summum Bonum. Sinai is not the Promised Land; Jerusalem is. And in the New Jerusalem, what finally happens as the last chapter of human history is a wedding between the Lamb and His bride. Deprived of this Jerusalem, we must buy into Babylon. If we do not worship God, we will worship idols, for we are by nature worshippers.
Finally, what is the cure? It must be stronger medicine than philosophy, so I can give you only three words in answer to this last and most practical question of all. What we can do about it? What is the cure? These three words are totally unoriginal. They are not my philosophical argument, but God's biblical demands. Repent, fast, and pray. Confess, sacrifice, adore. I know of no other answer, and I can think of nothing else that can save this civilization except Saints.
Please be one.
What is the cause, and cure of moral relativism? The real source of moral relativism is not any argument at all, and therefore its cure is not any refutation of an argument. Neither philosophy nor science nor logic nor common sense nor experience have ever refuted traditional moral absolutism. It is not reason, but the abdication of reason that is the source of moral relativism. Relativism is not rational, it is rationalization. It is not the conclusion of a rational argument. It is the rationalization of a prior action. It is the repudiation of the principle that passions must be evaluated by reason and controlled by will. That is the virtue Plato and Aristotle called self-control. It is not just one of the cardinal virtues, but a necessary ingredient in every virtue. That classical assumption is almost the definition of civilization. But romanticists, existentialists, Freudians, and many others have convinced many people in our culture that it is oppressive and unhealthy and inauthentic. If we embrace the opposite principle, and let passion govern reason, rather than reason govern passion, there is little hope for morality or for civilization.
The cure requires more than an argument
Obviously, the strongest and most attractive of the passions is sexual passion. It is therefore also the most addictive and the most blinding. So, there could hardly be a more powerful undermining of our moral knowledge and our moral life than the sexual revolution. Already, the demand for sexual freedom has overridden one of nature's strongest instincts: motherhood. A million mothers a year in America alone pay hired killers, who are called healers or physicians, to kill their own unborn daughters and sons. How could this happen? Only because abortion is driven by sexual motives. For abortion is backup birth control, and birth control is the demand to have sex without having babies. If the stork brought babies, there'd be no Planned Parenthood.
Divorce is a second example of the power of the sexual revolution to undermine basic moral principles. Suppose there were some other practice, not connected with sex, which had these three documentable results. First, betraying the person you claim to love the most, the person you had pledged your life to, betraying your solemn promise to her or him. Second, thereby abusing the children you had procreated and promised to protect, scarring their souls more infinitely than anything else except direct violent physical abuse, and making it far more difficult for them ever to attain happy lives or marriages. And thirdly, thereby harming, undermining, and perhaps destroying your society's future. Would not such a practice be universally condemned? Yet, that is exactly what divorce is, and it is universally accepted. Betrayal is universally condemned unless it is sexual. Justice, honesty, not doing other harms—these moral principles are affirmed, unless they interfere with sex.
We are designed for joy
The rest of traditional morality is still very widely believed and taught, even in TV sitcoms, soap operas, and Hollywood movies. The driving force of moral relativism seems to be almost exclusively sexual. Why this should be, and what we should do about it, are two further questions that demand much more time and thought than we have available here and now. But if you want a very short guess at an answer to both, here is the best I can do. I think a secularist has only one substitute left for God, only one experience in a desacrilized world that still gives him something like the mystical, self-transcending thrill of ecstasy that God designed all souls to have forever, and to long for until they have it. Unless he is a surfer, that experience has to be sex. We're designed for more than happiness; we're designed for joy. Aquinas writes, with simple logic, "Man cannot live without joy. That is why one deprived of true spiritual joys must spill over to carnal pleasures."
Drugs and alcohol are attractive because they claim to feed the same need. The lack the ontological greatness of sex, but they provide the same semi-mystical thrill: the transcendence of reason and self-consciousness. I do not mean this merely as moral condemnation, but as psychological analysis. In fact, though they sound shocking, I think the addict is closer to the deepest truth than the mere moralist. He is looking for the very best thing in some of the very worst places. His demand for a state in which he transcends morality is very wrong, but it's also very right. For we are designed for something beyond morality, something in which morality will be transformed. Mystical union with God. Sex is a sign and appetizer of that. Moral absolutists must never forget that morality, though absolute, is not ultimate. It is not our Summum Bonum. Sinai is not the Promised Land; Jerusalem is. And in the New Jerusalem, what finally happens as the last chapter of human history is a wedding between the Lamb and His bride. Deprived of this Jerusalem, we must buy into Babylon. If we do not worship God, we will worship idols, for we are by nature worshippers.
Finally, what is the cure? It must be stronger medicine than philosophy, so I can give you only three words in answer to this last and most practical question of all. What we can do about it? What is the cure? These three words are totally unoriginal. They are not my philosophical argument, but God's biblical demands. Repent, fast, and pray. Confess, sacrifice, adore. I know of no other answer, and I can think of nothing else that can save this civilization except Saints.
Please be one.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Kapuluan
By JJ Calero in Business World
Someone once said, "It’s a pity that youth is wasted on the young." It’s obvious that this gentleman did not have the benefit of getting to know or read St. Josemaria Escriva de Balaguer’s writings. The saint, who devoted a great deal of his life with young people, felt that it’s the young that can change this world for the better.
Opus Dei, which means Work of God, founded by St. Josemaria Escriva on Oct. 2, 1928, when he was only 26 years old, naturally gravitated to the young. He would fondly say that when he started Opus Dei, he only had youth, grace of God, and sense of humor. It’s in the young where St. Josemaria found a strong sense of idealism that, when properly harnessed, has a very strong multiplier effect.
Eight-one years after he was given this grace by our Lord, Opus Dei continues with programs for the young. In the Philippines, centers for students have been set up in Metropolitan Manila, Cebu, Iloilo, and Bacolod.
One such center, which celebrates its 25th anniversary this year, is Kapuluan, which caters to students who have education as their main priority.
To add impetus to the study program, the center gathers university students and prominent individuals for conferences where diverse issues are discussed.
Among these activities is the Universitas Student Conference (USC). This year’s conference theme is "Think, Speak, Lead." It forms part of the K25 Leadership Forum, the center’s silver anniversary project. All the speakers are K25 Professional Mentors.
On the first day, they had Isidro Sobrecarey speak about corporate and personal values. He stressed that "there is no pretension to leadership, you are a leader day-in and day out, wherever you are."
"You can judge a leader," Mr. Sobrecarey said, "by the way he treats his household help." The way he treats his household help will be manifested in the way he treats his employees.
Dr. Jose "Lito" Sandejas, the second speaker, spoke about the seven basic habits starting with jumping out of bed the moment the alarm clock rings, which he called the "heroic minute."
"This is the first battle of the day," he said referring to the way one responds to the alarm clock. He enumerated the six other battles thus: faithfulness to responsibility; maintaining a good emotional bank account; being a lifelong learner; being more proactive than re-active; gaining the act of self-examination (he said "it is harder to get lost if we examine ourselves regularly"); and "the need to be physically fit."
The second day had Dr. Benardo Villegas, a renowned economist, TOYM awardee, and a member of the 1987 Constitutional Commission. He gave a most interesting talk on the financial crisis gripping the world economy.
A ray of hope descended when, comparing the 1930 Great depression and today, he said that he felt the current financial crisis is more manageable, adding that the world’s economy is now more progressive. But he cautioned that full recovery cannot happen overnight; rather, the tasks required must be shared by many inspired young leaders, a generation that can see the problem, make a solution, and produce results. He couldn’t have found a better audience and a more favorable response from the participants.
On the third day, Vic Villegas focused on encouraging the students to practice virtues all the time. "Practice! Practice! Practice!" he said. He shared Malcom Gladwell’s 10,000-hour-practice rule.
Engineer Manny Palomo of Nokia ended the USC with a fun and informative lecture about upcoming trends in telecommunications. This session was more scientific in nature.
This was just the first of many activities of the K25 Leadership Forum with its Professional Mentors serving as its guest speakers.
In later forums, Sid Garcia, a district governor of Rotary International, spoke about his core values of service, excellence, and integrity. He encouraged the conference fellows to be beacons of hope "because there is so much helplessness around us." Lito Cruz, SVP of Zuellig Pharma, shared his leadership experiences here and abroad and challenged the fellows to outdo themselves and be of service to God and fellowmen.
Dr. Jesus Estanislao gave an extensive talk on leadership, saying that it is all about guiding people to higher goals. But he said that one has to lead oneself: self-governance comes first. Ramon Fernandez spoke about excellence and Gerry Siquijor about having initiative. Atty. Ferdi Fider spoke about intellectual property rights. And Joey Cuisia, MAP’s 2007 Management Man of the Year, discussed the importance of leadership by example.
Two upcoming speakers promise to be just as interesting. They are Wilfred Uytengsu, Jr., president & CEO of Alaska Milk Corporation, and Bernie Liu, president of Golden ABC, Inc.. Both are K25 Professional Mentors and their companies are also partners of the Leadership Forum, together with Tagaytay Highlands, Trinity Insurance Brokers, Inc., National Bookstore, and Albergus Catering.
Among the other K25 Professional Mentors expected to exchange ideas with the fellows are broadcast journalist Mike Enriquez, MAP Chairman Joey Bermudez, executives Melo Bautista, Mar Gatus, Johnny Guevara, Dom Gavino, PJ Garcia, Ronnie Merino, and Toto Tansingco.
The K25 Leadership Forum has a unique mentoring program. Each fellow is given a Regular Mentor, one of the Kapuluan staff, and a Professional Mentor. The Regular Mentor focuses on personal formation and the Professional Mentor on professional formation.
Who knows what will become of these fellows who are molded to be "leaders with strong work ethic, deep piety, and a sense of service" — and how much good they can do for our country.
If you have a son or grandson in university, you may want him to consider joining in Kapuluan’s next program. Have him call Oliver Tuason, director of the center, at 9220613.
Someone once said, "It’s a pity that youth is wasted on the young." It’s obvious that this gentleman did not have the benefit of getting to know or read St. Josemaria Escriva de Balaguer’s writings. The saint, who devoted a great deal of his life with young people, felt that it’s the young that can change this world for the better.
Opus Dei, which means Work of God, founded by St. Josemaria Escriva on Oct. 2, 1928, when he was only 26 years old, naturally gravitated to the young. He would fondly say that when he started Opus Dei, he only had youth, grace of God, and sense of humor. It’s in the young where St. Josemaria found a strong sense of idealism that, when properly harnessed, has a very strong multiplier effect.
Eight-one years after he was given this grace by our Lord, Opus Dei continues with programs for the young. In the Philippines, centers for students have been set up in Metropolitan Manila, Cebu, Iloilo, and Bacolod.
One such center, which celebrates its 25th anniversary this year, is Kapuluan, which caters to students who have education as their main priority.
To add impetus to the study program, the center gathers university students and prominent individuals for conferences where diverse issues are discussed.
Among these activities is the Universitas Student Conference (USC). This year’s conference theme is "Think, Speak, Lead." It forms part of the K25 Leadership Forum, the center’s silver anniversary project. All the speakers are K25 Professional Mentors.
On the first day, they had Isidro Sobrecarey speak about corporate and personal values. He stressed that "there is no pretension to leadership, you are a leader day-in and day out, wherever you are."
"You can judge a leader," Mr. Sobrecarey said, "by the way he treats his household help." The way he treats his household help will be manifested in the way he treats his employees.
Dr. Jose "Lito" Sandejas, the second speaker, spoke about the seven basic habits starting with jumping out of bed the moment the alarm clock rings, which he called the "heroic minute."
"This is the first battle of the day," he said referring to the way one responds to the alarm clock. He enumerated the six other battles thus: faithfulness to responsibility; maintaining a good emotional bank account; being a lifelong learner; being more proactive than re-active; gaining the act of self-examination (he said "it is harder to get lost if we examine ourselves regularly"); and "the need to be physically fit."
The second day had Dr. Benardo Villegas, a renowned economist, TOYM awardee, and a member of the 1987 Constitutional Commission. He gave a most interesting talk on the financial crisis gripping the world economy.
A ray of hope descended when, comparing the 1930 Great depression and today, he said that he felt the current financial crisis is more manageable, adding that the world’s economy is now more progressive. But he cautioned that full recovery cannot happen overnight; rather, the tasks required must be shared by many inspired young leaders, a generation that can see the problem, make a solution, and produce results. He couldn’t have found a better audience and a more favorable response from the participants.
On the third day, Vic Villegas focused on encouraging the students to practice virtues all the time. "Practice! Practice! Practice!" he said. He shared Malcom Gladwell’s 10,000-hour-practice rule.
Engineer Manny Palomo of Nokia ended the USC with a fun and informative lecture about upcoming trends in telecommunications. This session was more scientific in nature.
This was just the first of many activities of the K25 Leadership Forum with its Professional Mentors serving as its guest speakers.
In later forums, Sid Garcia, a district governor of Rotary International, spoke about his core values of service, excellence, and integrity. He encouraged the conference fellows to be beacons of hope "because there is so much helplessness around us." Lito Cruz, SVP of Zuellig Pharma, shared his leadership experiences here and abroad and challenged the fellows to outdo themselves and be of service to God and fellowmen.
Dr. Jesus Estanislao gave an extensive talk on leadership, saying that it is all about guiding people to higher goals. But he said that one has to lead oneself: self-governance comes first. Ramon Fernandez spoke about excellence and Gerry Siquijor about having initiative. Atty. Ferdi Fider spoke about intellectual property rights. And Joey Cuisia, MAP’s 2007 Management Man of the Year, discussed the importance of leadership by example.
Two upcoming speakers promise to be just as interesting. They are Wilfred Uytengsu, Jr., president & CEO of Alaska Milk Corporation, and Bernie Liu, president of Golden ABC, Inc.. Both are K25 Professional Mentors and their companies are also partners of the Leadership Forum, together with Tagaytay Highlands, Trinity Insurance Brokers, Inc., National Bookstore, and Albergus Catering.
Among the other K25 Professional Mentors expected to exchange ideas with the fellows are broadcast journalist Mike Enriquez, MAP Chairman Joey Bermudez, executives Melo Bautista, Mar Gatus, Johnny Guevara, Dom Gavino, PJ Garcia, Ronnie Merino, and Toto Tansingco.
The K25 Leadership Forum has a unique mentoring program. Each fellow is given a Regular Mentor, one of the Kapuluan staff, and a Professional Mentor. The Regular Mentor focuses on personal formation and the Professional Mentor on professional formation.
Who knows what will become of these fellows who are molded to be "leaders with strong work ethic, deep piety, and a sense of service" — and how much good they can do for our country.
If you have a son or grandson in university, you may want him to consider joining in Kapuluan’s next program. Have him call Oliver Tuason, director of the center, at 9220613.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Ordinary Work – Our Gift to God
By Marylee Marsh in Words from the Heart
Everyone is called to work. It is part of God's divine plan. However, with the fall of Adam and Eve, sin entered the world and work assumed a different nature. Human labor may be pleasurable, stimulating, and exciting, but it also may be disagreeable, difficult, and monotonous. None-the-less work, for most people, is a necessity of life.
Most would agree that work provides some element of satisfaction. Work, however that is performed for self-gratification gives a temporary pleasure, whereas work done for God, affords us the supreme benefit because we are earning our Heavenly reward.
The greatest gift we can give to another person is the gift of ourselves. When we give gifts to our loved ones – be they of a monetary nature, or a good deed, our desire is to make those people happy; and we put forth great effort to make our gift the best it can be. Our Father in Heaven deserves our best gift as well – that gift is our ordinary, everyday work done with love. All honest work may be made holy – that is raised to a level of sanctity and offered as a gift to God. Offering our work in this way gives us greater impetus to carry out that day-to-day work with joy. God gives us all that we need to succeed in our chosen profession. Utilizing the talents He has given us to the best of our ability allows us to give back to Him. Our work, done well with love is a most pleasing gift to God for we are giving of ourselves.
The universal call to holiness through the sanctification of one’s ordinary work is the premise of Opus Dei. It is right and fitting to share these words about human work today, on the occasion of its 81st anniversary of its inception by the Founder, St. Josemaria Escrivia on October 2, 1928. For further information about Opus Dei, go to http://www.opusdei.org.
On St. Josemaria: "He was funny, he was warm, he could lose his temper, he was human in every way"
By Jeff Diamant in New Jersey News
The thought never occurred to John Coverdale, back in the 1960s, that the priest he revered and worked for in Rome, Josemaria Escriva, would someday be made a saint.
Coverdale, now a tax professor at Seton Hall University Law School, was working for Opus Dei, the lay Catholic organization founded by Escriva. From 1961 to 1968, Coverdale saw Escriva -- who was canonized in 2002 -- at the office most days.
"He was such a warm, vibrant human being that I don't think personally the thought "saint,' the word "saint', occurred to me," Coverdale said. "We tend to think of saints as kind of distant. "And he was not that at all. He was funny, he was warm, he could lose his temper, he was human in every way."
Coverdale, 69, shared this perspective for a 13-part weekly series on Escriva that began airing Aug. 30 on the EWTN Global Catholic Network. It was filmed entirely in Opus Dei's center in South Orange, a Georgian-style mansion on Montrose Avenue where the group holds regular meetings. Another New Jersey man, Damon Owens of West Orange, is his co-host.
The series on EWTN, an Alabama-based station with 24-hour Catholic programming available in 150 million households worldwide, is the latest burst of attention for the 81-year-old Opus Dei.
Granted favored status by Pope John Paul II, Opus Dei received unwanted publicity earlier this decade from "The Da Vinci Code," the controversial novel and film that presented it as highly secretive and involved in murderous activity to cover up alleged church secrets.
Coverdale, who joined in 1957, has become a leading expert on Opus Dei, having written two scholarly works on the group: "Uncommon Faith: The Early Years of Opus Dei, 1928-1943," and "Putting Down Roots: Father Joseph Muzquiz and the Growth of Opus Dei."
Owens, who runs an organization devoted to Catholic family planning and works for the National Organization for Marriage, joined Opus Dei in 2003.
The idea for the series came from Coverdale when he contributed to a previous EWTN show on Opus Dei.
"I've done a number of book-review programs for them," he said. "A few years ago, I said to them, "How about a series about Opus Dei?' And they said fine."
Much of the series focuses on the idea, propagated by Opus Dei, that lay people can find holiness in daily life through work, without joining the priesthood or living in a monastery. Coverdale said he hopes the series changes viewers' lives.
"I hope that people will come away primarily with the sense that "It seems to be a good group of people, I'd like to know them a little better,' and -- at least for some people -- "It makes sense to me that my work can be a path that leads to God,'" he said.
Worldwide, Opus Dei has 89,000 members, with about 3,000 in the United States. Eighty percent, including Owens, are "supernumeraries," typically married men and women who live and work in the secular world while following Opus Dei's spiritual guidelines. The other 20 percent are "numeraries," like Coverdale, celibate members who live in Opus Dei centers -- there are centers in 19 U.S. cities -- but who typically work in the secular world, giving most of their earnings to the group.
Critics have said Opus Dei is too secretive and elitist, that it has gone to extremes in separating male members from female members, and that Escriva had a nasty streak. The series has not dealt head-on with "The Da Vinci Code," but the men do address what they say are public misconceptions about Opus Dei.
"Some people have said Opus Dei is secretive," Coverdale said. "But I think anybody who watches his way through the 13 half-hour episodes will say, "Gosh, they seem to have told me everything I could care to know about Opus Dei, and then some.'"
On camera, he said of Escriva, who died in 1975: "He certainly wasn't a fanatic, he was a man who really knew how to love. "He had a very, very full plate, and yet he was completely focused on the people around him, I recall."
The thought never occurred to John Coverdale, back in the 1960s, that the priest he revered and worked for in Rome, Josemaria Escriva, would someday be made a saint.
Coverdale, now a tax professor at Seton Hall University Law School, was working for Opus Dei, the lay Catholic organization founded by Escriva. From 1961 to 1968, Coverdale saw Escriva -- who was canonized in 2002 -- at the office most days.
"He was such a warm, vibrant human being that I don't think personally the thought "saint,' the word "saint', occurred to me," Coverdale said. "We tend to think of saints as kind of distant. "And he was not that at all. He was funny, he was warm, he could lose his temper, he was human in every way."
Coverdale, 69, shared this perspective for a 13-part weekly series on Escriva that began airing Aug. 30 on the EWTN Global Catholic Network. It was filmed entirely in Opus Dei's center in South Orange, a Georgian-style mansion on Montrose Avenue where the group holds regular meetings. Another New Jersey man, Damon Owens of West Orange, is his co-host.
The series on EWTN, an Alabama-based station with 24-hour Catholic programming available in 150 million households worldwide, is the latest burst of attention for the 81-year-old Opus Dei.
Granted favored status by Pope John Paul II, Opus Dei received unwanted publicity earlier this decade from "The Da Vinci Code," the controversial novel and film that presented it as highly secretive and involved in murderous activity to cover up alleged church secrets.
Coverdale, who joined in 1957, has become a leading expert on Opus Dei, having written two scholarly works on the group: "Uncommon Faith: The Early Years of Opus Dei, 1928-1943," and "Putting Down Roots: Father Joseph Muzquiz and the Growth of Opus Dei."
Owens, who runs an organization devoted to Catholic family planning and works for the National Organization for Marriage, joined Opus Dei in 2003.
The idea for the series came from Coverdale when he contributed to a previous EWTN show on Opus Dei.
"I've done a number of book-review programs for them," he said. "A few years ago, I said to them, "How about a series about Opus Dei?' And they said fine."
Much of the series focuses on the idea, propagated by Opus Dei, that lay people can find holiness in daily life through work, without joining the priesthood or living in a monastery. Coverdale said he hopes the series changes viewers' lives.
"I hope that people will come away primarily with the sense that "It seems to be a good group of people, I'd like to know them a little better,' and -- at least for some people -- "It makes sense to me that my work can be a path that leads to God,'" he said.
Worldwide, Opus Dei has 89,000 members, with about 3,000 in the United States. Eighty percent, including Owens, are "supernumeraries," typically married men and women who live and work in the secular world while following Opus Dei's spiritual guidelines. The other 20 percent are "numeraries," like Coverdale, celibate members who live in Opus Dei centers -- there are centers in 19 U.S. cities -- but who typically work in the secular world, giving most of their earnings to the group.
Critics have said Opus Dei is too secretive and elitist, that it has gone to extremes in separating male members from female members, and that Escriva had a nasty streak. The series has not dealt head-on with "The Da Vinci Code," but the men do address what they say are public misconceptions about Opus Dei.
"Some people have said Opus Dei is secretive," Coverdale said. "But I think anybody who watches his way through the 13 half-hour episodes will say, "Gosh, they seem to have told me everything I could care to know about Opus Dei, and then some.'"
On camera, he said of Escriva, who died in 1975: "He certainly wasn't a fanatic, he was a man who really knew how to love. "He had a very, very full plate, and yet he was completely focused on the people around him, I recall."
Saturday, October 3, 2009
McCaffreys seek perfection -- even in their wedding dresses
By Shelley Page , The Ottawa Citizen
The daughters of the captains of American industry demand her wedding gowns. Southern belles and New York fashion mavens utter her name in the same breath as Vera Wang. Little girls laminate their faces to the window of her Sussex Drive store, fogging the glass with the syrupy warmth of their princess dreams.
But none of this matters to Justina McCaffrey, at least right now. She is planted in the middle of a veritable princess palace, 1,000 wedding gowns on three floors in an Atlanta, Georgia, bridal salon. While gown-seeking brides shimmy into Justina's opulent dresses and entourages wait to offer critiques, she holds forth on her meeting with the Pope.
Two years ago, she was on the set of the Robert Altman film, Dr. T and the Women, in which actress Kate Hudson wears a Justina McCaffrey gown, now a bestseller known as The Kate. An actor whom Justina declines to name (although Buddhist Richard Gere was the film's star), dumped all over the church and the Pope.
"I thought, how do I respond to this?" recalls Justina, swinging her long blond hair dramatically.
For someone who has drawn on divine inspiration before, the obvious reaction was to make the Pope an outfit. Working night and day for more than a month, Justina handstitched beads and jewelry onto a silk liturgical vestment she'd made. On the vestment's inside, from elbow to elbow, she stitched in silver and blue thread Jesus' words to St. Peter in Matthew 18, which begin: "On this rock I will build my church ... "
Then, to get the vestment into the Pope's hands she had to draw on her own religious connections, including her priest "Father Fred" Dolan, the Canadian head of Opus Dei, a conservative group within the Catholic church to which Justina and her husband David belong. She secured an invitation to meet Pope John Paul II at the Vatican along with other fashion designers in December, 2000. She was the only designer invited from North America.
"I kissed his ring. I was so overwhelmed by the whole experience that I forgot to give the vestment to him." She ended up behind the Pope inside his huge bulletproof box, talking to his cardinals, members of Opus Dei, who protect the Pope and are, in David's words, "like the good Mafia."
Justina recalls the meeting: "These Italian dudes were exactly like DeNiro, they talked in this deep 'Hey whatcha doing' kind of voice, and I showed them what I'd made. And they thought I wanted the Pope to bless it. And I'm like, no, 'It's for the Pope.'" In return, she got a Pope-blessed pearl rosary.
She clearly made an impression on the Pope, or at least his handlers, because she and her husband are on the hook to raise $175,000 for the Pope's visit to Toronto for World Youth Day in July. Justina will also speak on a panel, composed mostly of theologians. The topic? Beauty.
Justina is known, primarily in the United States, for creating romantic, bodice-hugging, strapless, impossibly full-skirted gowns that are often described as medieval. They flatter a woman's form, accentuating her bust and waist. She gives them ethereal names such as Rosalynne, Sincere, Paulina, Patrice.
The beauty of these gowns has a direct connection to her devotion to God. As a member of Opus Dei, she is required to seek perfection in life, from her gowns to her spiritual life. The perfection in her gowns is evident, but when she describes her attempts to achieve personal perfection, it takes on a comedic tone.
"So, I've promised God that I'll say the rosary three times a day. But I'm busy, so I've told God it won't be perfect. I do it in my car. So it's like 'Hail Mary, full of Grace,' turn right. 'Hail Mary, full of Grace,' turn left." She laughs girlishly. "You think they need a cellphone law for cars? What about for people who do rosaries?"
When she's not saying her rosary or doing ballet ("I have a ballerina's body. Problem: I just don't know what to do with it."), she jokes that she's eating salmon. There are a dozen tins stacked on the fridge in husband David's office. "Salmon keeps skin looking young. But I'm worried my skin is orange." But it's lovely and unlined, making her appear much younger than her 36 years.
While being interviewed, Justina offered so much about herself, her marriage, her beliefs, openly and unselfconsciously, that she seemed the antithesis of a snooty fashion designer who has the Pope on speed dial.
"You expected me to be a diva?" she asked, assuming the position of a snooty designer, legs apart, hands clapping together: "My gowns must be PERFECT. I must have PERFECTION. Better silk. Better seams. Better seamstresses." Clap. Clap. Clap.
If there is truth to her self-mocking characterization, it's that her religiously inspired drive for perfection has gotten her farther than she ever imagined possible. "I guess, I thank God for my success. But I also thank Dave. I really owe all this to Dave."
To read the rest of the article, please see The Ottawa Citizen.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Opus Dei and Christian materialism
By Raul Nidoy at Wikipedia. One of my contributions at Wikipedia, where I built on an existing article. Also at Benedict the Wise. Tomorrow, October 2, is the eighty-first anniversary of the foundation of Opus Dei.
Throughout history, Christian thought has struggled with the ideas of flesh, world, and spirit, and their interplay in each person's salvation. As Cardinal Ratzinger said in What It Means To Be a Christian (2006), “Christian theology... in the course of time turned the kingdom of God into a kingdom of heaven that is beyond this mortal life; the well-being of men became a salvation of souls, which again comes to pass beyond this life, after death."
This tendency of spiritualization, Ratzinger said, is not the message of Jesus Christ. "For what is sublime in this message," he stated, "is precisely that the Lord was talking not just about another life, not just about men’s souls, but was addressing the body, the whole man, in his embodied form, with his involvement in history and society; that he promised the kingdom of God to the man who lives bodily with other men in this history."
The most visible use of the term Christian materialism is found in the writings of Josemaría Escrivá, a Spanish Roman Catholic saint of the twentieth century, who said that all temporal realities have a sanctifying power and Christians can find God in the most ordinary material things. As such, it is associated with the Roman Catholic prelature of Opus Dei which Escriva founded. It is an organization which teaches that everyone is called to holiness and that ordinary life, even the most material activity, is a path to sanctity.
Escriva criticized those who "have tried to present the Christian way of life as something exclusively spiritual, proper to pure, extraordinary people, who remain aloof from the contemptible things of this world, or at most tolerate them as something necessarily attached to the spirit, while we live on this earth. When things are seen in this way, churches become the setting par excellence of the Christian life. And being a Christian means going to church, taking part in sacred ceremonies, being taken up with ecclesiastical matters, in a kind of segregated world, which is considered to be the ante-chamber of heaven, while the ordinary world follows its own separate path."
Instead, he affirmed the "high value of the material." According to him, "Authentic Christianity which professes the resurrection of all flesh, has always quite logically opposed 'dis-incarnation,' without fear of being judged materialistic. We can, therefore, rightfully speak of a Christian materialism, which is boldly opposed to those materialisms which are blind to the spirit."
In an address to a theological symposium, Holiness and the World, which studied the teachings of Josemaria Escriva, John Paul II referred to one of his homilies:
There is nothing that is outside of the concern of Christ. Speaking with theological rigor ... one cannot say that there are things — good, noble or even indifferent — which are exclusively profane; for the Word of God has made his dwelling the sons of men, he was hungry and thirsty, worked with his hands, knew friendship and obedience, experience sorrow and death. (Conversations 112)
In connection with this quote, John Paul II said that the Catholic Church today is "conscious of serving a redemption that concerns every aspect of human existence," an awareness which was "prepared by a gradual intellectual and spiritual development." He also said that the message of Escriva, which has contributed in this direction, stems "from a unique grasp of the radiant, universal force of the Redeemer's grace." He later called Escriva "one of Christianity's great witnesses."
Throughout history, Christian thought has struggled with the ideas of flesh, world, and spirit, and their interplay in each person's salvation. As Cardinal Ratzinger said in What It Means To Be a Christian (2006), “Christian theology... in the course of time turned the kingdom of God into a kingdom of heaven that is beyond this mortal life; the well-being of men became a salvation of souls, which again comes to pass beyond this life, after death."
This tendency of spiritualization, Ratzinger said, is not the message of Jesus Christ. "For what is sublime in this message," he stated, "is precisely that the Lord was talking not just about another life, not just about men’s souls, but was addressing the body, the whole man, in his embodied form, with his involvement in history and society; that he promised the kingdom of God to the man who lives bodily with other men in this history."
The most visible use of the term Christian materialism is found in the writings of Josemaría Escrivá, a Spanish Roman Catholic saint of the twentieth century, who said that all temporal realities have a sanctifying power and Christians can find God in the most ordinary material things. As such, it is associated with the Roman Catholic prelature of Opus Dei which Escriva founded. It is an organization which teaches that everyone is called to holiness and that ordinary life, even the most material activity, is a path to sanctity.
Escriva criticized those who "have tried to present the Christian way of life as something exclusively spiritual, proper to pure, extraordinary people, who remain aloof from the contemptible things of this world, or at most tolerate them as something necessarily attached to the spirit, while we live on this earth. When things are seen in this way, churches become the setting par excellence of the Christian life. And being a Christian means going to church, taking part in sacred ceremonies, being taken up with ecclesiastical matters, in a kind of segregated world, which is considered to be the ante-chamber of heaven, while the ordinary world follows its own separate path."
Instead, he affirmed the "high value of the material." According to him, "Authentic Christianity which professes the resurrection of all flesh, has always quite logically opposed 'dis-incarnation,' without fear of being judged materialistic. We can, therefore, rightfully speak of a Christian materialism, which is boldly opposed to those materialisms which are blind to the spirit."
In an address to a theological symposium, Holiness and the World, which studied the teachings of Josemaria Escriva, John Paul II referred to one of his homilies:
There is nothing that is outside of the concern of Christ. Speaking with theological rigor ... one cannot say that there are things — good, noble or even indifferent — which are exclusively profane; for the Word of God has made his dwelling the sons of men, he was hungry and thirsty, worked with his hands, knew friendship and obedience, experience sorrow and death. (Conversations 112)
In connection with this quote, John Paul II said that the Catholic Church today is "conscious of serving a redemption that concerns every aspect of human existence," an awareness which was "prepared by a gradual intellectual and spiritual development." He also said that the message of Escriva, which has contributed in this direction, stems "from a unique grasp of the radiant, universal force of the Redeemer's grace." He later called Escriva "one of Christianity's great witnesses."
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