Autism and mysteries of the Mass: Holy Communion is different from food at home

Autism and mysteries of the Mass: Holy Communion is different from food at home

Ever since the Last Supper, Catholics have pondered what happens during the Mass when they believe the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Jesus.

"Because Christ our Redeemer said that it was truly his body that he was offering … it has always been the conviction of the Church … that by the consecration of the bread and wine there takes place a change of the whole substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ our Lord and of the whole substance of the wine into the substance of his blood," proclaimed the Council of Trent, after the Protestant Reformation.

"This change the holy Catholic Church has fittingly and properly called transubstantiation. The Eucharistic presence of Christ begins at the moment of the consecration and endures as long as the Eucharistic species subsist."

Believers approach this mystery with the greatest care and respect. This may be hard for children to grasp as they prepare for First Communion.

Now imagine trying to teach this core Catholic doctrine to persons -- young and old -- who have mental and physical disabilities that make it hard, or impossible, for them to acknowledge what is happening in the Mass.

"Because we believe Holy Communion is the Body and Blood or our Lord, we want to be very careful about this," said Father Matthew Schneider, who is known to his Twitter followers as @AutisticPriest.

"This isn't a theology test. No one needs a theology degree to take Holy Communion. We simply need to make sure that they know this is an act in a church rite -- that they are not eating ordinary food like at home. We're trying to find out if they have a basic understanding of what's happening."

During times of plague and panic, priests do what priests need to do

During times of plague and panic, priests do what priests need to do

The second wave of influenza in the fall of 1918 was the worst yet and, by the time Father Nicola Yanney reached Wichita, Kansas, a citywide quarantine was in effect.

A 16-year-old girl had already died, creating a sense of panic. The missionary priest -- his territory reached from Missouri to Colorado and from Oklahoma to North Dakota -- couldn't even hold her funeral in the city's new Orthodox sanctuary. As he traveled back to his home church in Kearney, Neb., he kept anointing the sick, hearing confessions and taking Holy Communion to those stricken by the infamous "Spanish flu."

After days of door-to-door ministry in the snow, Yanney collapsed and called his sons to his bedside. Struggling to breathe, he whispered: "Keep your hands and your heart clean." He was one of an estimated 50 million victims worldwide.

A century later, many Orthodox Christians in America -- especially those of Syrian and Lebanese descent -- believe Yanney should be recognized as a saint. And now, as churches face fears unleashed by the coronavirus, many details of his final days of his ministry are highly symbolic.

"Father Nicola got the flu because he insisted on ministering to people who had the flu," said Father Andrew Stephen Damick, creator of "The Equal of Martyrdom," an audio documentary about the man known as "The Apostle to the Plains."

"For priests, there are risks. But you cannot turn away when people are suffering and they need the sacraments of the church. You go to your people and minister to them. This is what priests do."

Few acts in ministry are as intimate as a priest huddled with a seriously ill believer, hearing what could be his or her final confession of sins. Honoring centuries of tradition, Christians in the ancient churches of the East also take Communion from a common chalice, with each person receiving consecrated bread and wine -- mixed together -- from a golden spoon.

Volunteer Trey Smith fighting to keep his commitments -- in heaven and on Earth

Volunteer Trey Smith fighting to keep his commitments -- in heaven and on Earth

As a teen-ager, Trey Smith kept praying that he would reach 6-foot-5 -- the right height for a blue-chip lineman coming out of high school and then a college star who would rise high in the National Football League draft.

His mother Dorsetta -- a preacher's daughter -- had dreams of her own, including that her son would honor his academic commitments and, after picking a good university, earn his degree. This was something they talked about while young Trey watched his mother wrestle with congestive heart failure and then die at age 51.

All of that was on Smith's mind when he won the Jason Witten Collegiate Man of the Year Award. The NCAA version of the NFL Walter Payton Man of the Year award, it goes to a student leader who has exhibited "exceptional courage, integrity and sportsmanship both on and off the field."

Smith apologized and asked the audience at the Dallas Cowboys practice facility in Frisco, Texas, to give him a moment as he wrestled with his emotions. Then he thanked God, his family, teammates, coaches, academic advisors and the medical specialists who -- literally -- have helped keep him alive, as well as in the University of Tennessee offensive line.

There was a moment last year, he said, when doctors treating him for blood clots in his lungs told him, "You know man, hang it up, hang it up. You're done playing football. This is it.' …

"Something you dream about as a kid. A promise you made to your mom on her deathbed. Hearing that it's done? You know, it's devastating … I kept thinking … it's not over yet. God put a vision inside of me that night and that whole week, saying, 'I don't care what they say, I've got more glory, I have more honor for you.' God had a bigger purpose for me."

The spotlight on Smith's fight to keep playing has allowed fans everywhere a chance to watch a dramatic case of the mental, physical, emotional and, often, spiritual challenges student athletes face season after season, said Chris Walker, a former Volunteer defensive end who is the UT campus director of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes.

Why did journalists skip over the inspiring final act of Orson Bean's wild life?

Why did journalists skip over the inspiring final act of Orson Bean's wild life?

Orson Bean answered the same question many times during his crazy ride from Broadway to doing every conceivable kind of work during his decades in Hollywood.

What was this funny guy trying to do, while embracing drugs, edgy politics, sexual healing, hippie communes, experimental forms of therapy and other diversions involving his body, mind and soul?

On one occasion, Bean said he was trying to become the "happiest son of a bitch alive." In another Los Angeles Times interview he added: "I did all this stuff, the drugs, getting my kisser on the tube, because I thought it would make me happy. But it didn't work. I didn't find happiness until I learned to surrender, to give up the crazy pursuit."

Surrender to what? The answer to that question didn't make it into the media tributes after the 91-year-old Bean's death on Feb. 7, when he was hit by two cars while walking in his Venice, Calif., neighborhood. However, the answer has hiding in plain sight in several cable TV interviews, his one-man stage show and an online testimony he wrote entitled "How Orson Bean Found God."

"For most of my life I didn't believe in God," noted Bean. "Who had time? I was too busy with things of this world: getting ahead, getting laid, becoming famous.

"For most of my adult life I've been at least somewhat famous. Not so famous that I had to wear dark glasses to walk down the street, but famous enough that head waiters would give me a good table. I didn't want to be famous for its own sake. I wanted to be famous so as to be happy."

What finally turned Bean's life around was a religious conversion. He went looking for the "Higher Power" in his 12-step program and eventually found peace.

Many Hollywood people who knew Bean were amazed that the final act in his wild life -- from Communist sympathizer to father-in-law of the late conservative raconteur Andrew Breitbart -- didn't make it into news reports.

Prayer breakfast warfare: Did President Trump mean to reject words of Jesus?

Prayer breakfast warfare: Did President Trump mean to reject words of Jesus?

Few politicos at the National Prayer Breakfast were shocked when President Donald Trump brandished copies of The Washington Post and USA Today to celebrate their "ACQUITTED" headlines.

But it was a Harvard University professor who did something even more provocative -- quoting strong words from Jesus of Nazareth -- during an event known for its meek Godtalk and vague calls for unity.

America's "biggest crisis," said Arthur Brooks of the Kennedy School of Government, is a culture of contempt that is "tearing our society apart."

"I want to turn to the words of the ultimate original thinker, history's greatest social entrepreneur, and as a Catholic, my personal Lord and Savior, Jesus," said Brooks, author of books such as "The Conservative Heart" and "Love Your Enemies." He is the former leader of the American Enterprise Institute, a conservative think tank.

The key passage for this era, he said, is found in Gospel of Saint Matthew, chapter 5, verses 43-45: "You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven."

Brooks added: "Love your enemies! Now that is thinking differently. It changed the world starting 2,000 years ago, and it is as subversive and counterintuitive today as it was then. But the devil's in the details. How do we do it in a country and world roiled by political hatred and differences that we can't seem to bridge?"

Trump declined to take part when Brooks challenged prayer-breakfast participants to raise their hand if they loved someone who disagreed with them about politics.

As the next speaker, the president responded to Brook's remarks with words that unleashed a week of online debate among conservative religious believers -- early Trump supporters and reluctant Trump supporters alike -- who have debated the degree to which they can embrace his take-no-prisoners approach to national leadership.

Addressing Brooks, Trump said: "Arthur, I don't know if I agree with you."

Trying to build healthy church families in the troubled age of #ChurchToo headlines

Trying to build healthy church families in the troubled age of #ChurchToo headlines

The email was signed "Worried Wife" and contained a blunt version of a question Bronwyn Lea has heard many times while working with women in and around churches.

The writer said her husband had become friends with another woman his own age. There were no signs of trouble, but they traded messages about all kinds of things. This was creating a "jealous-wife space" in her mind.

"Worried Wife" concluded: "I need a biblical perspective. What is a godly view of cross-gender friendships, and how should they be approached within the context of marriage?"

That's a crucial question these days for clergy and leaders of other ministries and fellowships, said Lea, author of "Beyond Awkward Side Hugs: Living as Christian Brothers and Sisters in a Sex-Crazed World." All of those #ChurchToo reports about sexual abuse and inappropriate relationships have people on edge -- with good cause.

Lea, who has a seminary degree and law-school credentials, is convinced that it's time for churches to act more like extended families and less like companies that sort people into niches defined by age, gender and marital status.

"Many people are lonely and they truly long for some kind of connection with others," she said. "But they've also heard so many horror stories about what can go wrong that they're afraid to reach out. They think that everyone will think that they're creepy or weird if they open up. … Lots of people are giving up and checking out."

Everyone knows the church is "supposed to be a family that everyone can belong to. … That's the vision that we need to reclaim," said Lea, a staff member at the First Baptist Church in Davis, Calif. Thus, the New Testament says: "Treat younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity."

The problem is making that work at the personal level, where pastors, teachers, parents and laypeople are trying to find realistic ways to handle social media, complex career pressures, tensions in modern families and constantly-changing gender roles.

Donald Trump and Pete Buttigieg find that discussing abortion is always difficult

Donald Trump and Pete Buttigieg find that discussing abortion is always difficult

President Donald Trump and Democrat Pete Buttigieg recently offered radically different stands on abortion, as both attempted to reach out to Catholic and evangelical swing voters trapped between their parties.

Trump made history as the first president to speak in person at the national March for Life, which marks the anniversary of Roe vs. Wade. 

"All of us here understand an eternal truth: Every child is a precious and sacred gift from God. Together, we must protect, cherish and defend the dignity and the sanctity of every human life," said Trump, who for years backed abortion rights and Planned Parenthood. He insists that his views have evolved, like those of Republican hero Ronald Reagan.

"When we see the image of a baby in the womb, we glimpse the majesty of God's creation. ... When we watch a child grow, we see the splendor that radiates from each human soul. One life changes the world," he said.

While commentators stressed that Trump attended the march to please his conservative evangelical base, this massive event in Washington, D.C., draws a complex crowd that is hard to label. It includes, for example, Catholics and evangelicals from groups that have been critical of Trump's personal life and ethics, as well as his stands on immigration, the death penalty and related issues.

Videos of this year's march showed many signs praising the president, but also signs critical of his bruising brand of politics.     

A Facebook post by a Catholic priest -- Father Jeffrey Dauses of the Diocese of Baltimore -- captured this tension. Telling pro-lifers to "wake up," Dauses attacked what he called Trump's "callous disregard for the poor, for immigrants and refugees, for women. … This man is not pro-life. He is pro-himself."

Meanwhile, Buttigieg -- an openly gay Episcopalian -- did something even more daring when he appeared at a Fox News town hall in Iowa. One of the toughest questions he faced came from the leader of a network of Democrats opposed to abortion.

"Do you want the support of pro-life Democrats?", asked Kristen Day, president of Democrats for Life. "Would you support more moderate platform language in the Democratic Party to ensure the party of diversity and inclusion that really does include everybody?" 

The darkness returns -- Rabbi Lord Sacks on new wave of anti-Semitism in Europe and USA

The darkness returns -- Rabbi Lord Sacks on new wave of anti-Semitism in Europe and USA

Andrew Neil of BBC kept asking Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn the same question -- over and over.

"Eighty percent of Jews think that you're anti-Semitic," he stressed. "Wouldn't you like to take this opportunity tonight to apologize to the British Jewish community for what's happened?"

Corbyn would not yield: "What I'll say is this -- I am determined that our society will be safe for people of all faiths."

The Daily Express called this late-2019 clash a "horror show." This BBC interview, with surging fears of public anti-Semitism, lingered in headlines as Brits went to the polls. Corbyn's party suffered its worst defeat in nearly a century.

Meanwhile, in America, a wave of anti-Semitic attacks left Jews wondering if it was safe to wear yarmulkes and symbols of their faith while walking the sidewalks of New York City. In suburban Monsey, a machete-waving attacker stabbed five people at a Hasidic rabbi's Hanukkah party. Finally, thousands of New Yorkers marched to show solidarity with the Jewish community.

The NYPD estimates that anti-Semitic crimes rose 26% last year. Anti-Semitic hate crimes in New York, Los Angeles and Chicago are expected to hit an 18-year high, according to research at California State University, San Bernardino. 

No one who watches the news can doubt that "the darkness has returned. It has returned likewise to virtually every country in Europe," argued Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, who led the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth from 1991-2013. He was knighted by Queen Elizabeth in 2005 and entered the House of Lords.

"That this should have happened within living memory of the Holocaust, after the most systematic attempt ever made … to find a cure for the virus of the world's longest hate -- more than half a century of Holocaust education and anti-racist legislation -- is almost unbelievable. It is particularly traumatic that this has happened in the United States, the country where Jews felt more at home than anywhere else in the Diaspora."

Why now?

Facing ties that bind between 'pro-life' issues -- like human trafficking and immigration

Facing ties that bind between 'pro-life' issues -- like human trafficking and immigration

It's hard to talk about the horrors of human trafficking -- including young women and children forced into the sex trade -- without mentioning the I-10 corridor across northern Florida and over to California.

Florida and California are in the top three on the list of U.S. states involved in human-trafficking cases, according to Florida State University's Center for the Advancement of Human Rights. Any realistic discussion of this crisis has to include women, children, poverty, prostitution and crisis pregnancies.

"There are so many overlapping issues in all of this. But you know you're dealing with abused women and, often, their pregnancies," said Ashlyn Portero, co-executive director of City Church in Tallahassee, Fla., which has two campuses close to I-10.

"Churches that want to help can start right there. …When you see those connections, you know you're talking about issues that fall under the pro-life umbrella."

Thus, human trafficking is an issue that "pro-life" religious leaders in Tallahassee, as well as many other urban areas, need to face if they want to minister to women in crisis pregnancies and their children, she added. The problem is that tackling this issue also involves talking -- or even preaching -- about subjects that many people will call "political" in a state like Florida. Take immigration, for example.

Timing is crucial. Right now, thousands of Americans are preparing for the annual March For Life, which is linked to the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, the landmark U.S. Supreme Court decision in 1973 legalizing abortion. This year's march in Washington, D.C., will be on Jan. 24.

"When people come back from something like the March For Life, lots of them will be asking, 'What can we do now?' They want to do something practical," said Portero, in a telephone interview. "But these issues all seem so big and complex. It's hard to know where to start, in terms of ministries that will help real people."

One thing is certain: Nothing happens in a typical church without clear communication through preaching. That's where things can get tricky.