, , , , ,

Painful choices: Coronavirus lockdowns threaten some familiar Passover traditions

, , , , ,
Painful choices: Coronavirus lockdowns threaten some familiar Passover traditions

Passover Seders include one moment that is especially poignant for grandparents.

Early in this ritual meal they look on as one or more of their grandchildren sing or recite the "Ma Nishtana," the "Four Questions" that frame the lessons Israelites learned from their bondage in Egypt and Exodus to freedom.

The first line echoes from generation to generation: "Why is this night different from all other nights?"

This year, Jews everywhere are wrestling with the fact that -- in a world wracked by the coronavirus -- this Passover is radically different from other Passovers.

"There's no way to replace having Passover with your parents, your grandparents, your friends and loved ones," said Rabbi Yaacov Behrman, founder of the Jewish Future Alliance and director of Operation Survival, a drug abuse prevention program in the Crown Heights neighborhood of Brooklyn.

"A grandmother looks forward to seeing her grandchildren at the Seder. Fathers and mothers look forward to seeing their families around that table. … There's no way to ignore the pain of what is happening this year."

Prayers and symbols describing suffering and liberation are at the heart of Haggadah (Hebrew for "telling") texts that guide the Seder meal and interpret the eight-day Passover season, which began this year at sundown on Wednesday, April 8.

Why is matzo the only bread at Passover? Because the Israelites didn't have time to bake leavened bread as they fled Egypt. Why dip bitter herbs into chopped apples, dates, nuts and wine? Because this paste resembles the clay Hebrew slaves used to make bricks. Why dip parsley into salt water? This represents new life, mixed with tears.

One ritual will have special meaning this year, as the leader of the Seder prays: "Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us concerning the washing of the hands."

, , , ,

Coronavirus crisis creates a legal, doctrinal minefield for priests and their flocks

, , , ,
Coronavirus crisis creates a legal, doctrinal minefield for priests and their flocks

Every now and then, while a priest is traveling or out running errands, a stranger will approach and ask: "Father, will you hear my confession?"

This can happen on a city sidewalk or in a quiet corner of a big-box store. Often the question is urgent -- because something disturbing has shaken someone's faith.

"I've been asked for confession in a taxi. I've been asked while on a train," said Father Fergal O'Duill, part of the Dallas-Fort Worth branch of the Catholic movement Regnum Christi. His name is pronounced "O'Doul" and he is originally from Dublin, Ireland.

These requests happen, he added, because "people see you and they know you're a priest. We're priests no matter where we go."

Hearing confessions is crucial during the penitential season of Lent, which precedes Easter, which is on April 12th this year for Catholics and Protestants (and April 19th for Eastern Orthodox Christians). Centuries of Catholic and Orthodox tradition urge believers to go to confession during Lent, before receiving Holy Communion on Easter.

The irony, right now, is that O'Duill can hear confessions during chance encounters, but not during scheduled times at the school where is serves as a chaplain.

The evolving coronavirus pandemic has turned Lent into a confusing minefield of legal and doctrinal questions for pastors and their flocks. In many communities, but not all, state or local officials have ordered people to "shelter in place" -- staying home unless they have "essential" needs elsewhere. This has raised an obvious question: Is going to confession "essential," even if Catholics are preparing for Holy Week and Easter rites they will have to watch on digital screens at home?

For most of March, O'Duill was one of several priests who heard confessions in a giant parking lot, or in a pair of tents, near the Highlands School in Irving, Texas. Every effort was made to provide enough privacy to maintain the "dignity" of the sacrament, he said, while priests remained a safe distance from the penitents. Priests offered similar "drive-through" confession opportunities in a few other parts of America.

Then, on March 22, Dallas County Judge Clay Jenkins issued a "shelter in place" order effective through April 3 and, perhaps, beyond.

The ground rules changed.

, , , , , ,

Democrats need to start asking more faith questions (especially about Catholic voters)

, , , , , ,
Democrats need to start asking more faith questions (especially about Catholic voters)

After Democrats voted in the Alabama primary in early March, researchers for CNN and other National Exit Pool newsrooms asked them several questions.

Reactions to the candidates were sorted by gender, race, LGBTQ identity, age, education level, political ideology and other factors. However, researchers didn't ask about religious faith and how often voters attended worship services. They didn't probe differences between evangelicals, Catholics, Mainline Protestants and "nones" -- Americans who claim zero ties to organized religious groups.

"We don't know the answers to these kinds of questions because they are rarely being asked," said Michael Wear of Public Square Strategies. He is best known for his work as faith-outreach director for Barack Obama's 2012 campaign and as part of the president's White House staff.

"This isn't just about exit polls. It's hard for Democrats to do their planning, and to allocate resources during campaigns, without this kind of data. … We need cross-tabs in these polls so that we can compare differences between white evangelicals and black evangelicals, between Catholics who go to Mass all the time and those who don't and other groups as well."

Exit Pool researchers did ask about religion in South Carolina, the pivotal state in former Vice President Joe Biden's stunning surge. It was significant that Biden was backed by 56% of Democrats who attend religious services "once a week or more," while 15% of those same voters backed Sen. Bernie Sanders. Among those who "never" attend services, Sanders was the clear winner.

Similar religion gaps emerged in North Carolina, Florida and Tennessee. In news coverage, these trends were linked to Biden's support from African-Americans, including churchgoers -- a huge voter bloc among Democrats.

That's important information, said Wear. But it would have helped to know how Catholics in South Carolina voted, as well as more about evangelical Protestants -- black and white. It would have helped to know what issues mattered most to active members of various religious groups and how faith affected their choices.

It's possible that pollsters and journalists do not ask these questions, he said, because key "players in the Democratic Party leadership aren't asking the big questions about religion, either."

Part of the problem is that many Americans have decided that the "religious" now means "Republican," according to a Pew Research Center poll conducted after the Iowa caucuses.

, , , , , , ,

Our new normal isn't really new -- ancient prayers go online during latest epidemic

, , , , , , ,
Our new normal isn't really new -- ancient prayers go online during latest epidemic

For centuries, Eastern Orthodox Christians have shared prayers "for the sick, the suffering, the captive and for their safety and salvation" as well as petitions that "we may be delivered from all affliction, wrath and need."

The faithful respond: "Lord, have mercy."

This past Sunday, some worshippers heard modern phrases woven into the ancient cadences of the Divine Liturgy of St. Basil the Great.

During the Litany of Fervent Supplication, priests in the Orthodox Church in America added: "O Lord who lovest mankind, deliver us from the impending threat of the Corona Virus. Send thine angel to watch over us and protect us. Grant health and recovery to those suffering from this virus. Guide the hands of physicians and preserve those who are healthy. Enable us to continue to serve our suffering brothers and sisters in peace that together we may glorify thy most honorable and majestic name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages."

Following instructions from our bishop, most members of parishes in the Diocese of the South heard these words while gathered around home computers.

This was part of America's new normal as religious leaders -- some already tech-friendly, others veering into new territory -- worked to develop online forms of worship, education and fellowship. For Catholics, the Orthodox and others in liturgical traditions, all of this is happening at a highly symbolic time -- the penitential season of Lent. Easter is April 12 for Western churches. For the Orthodox, Pascha is April 19.

This is not the season of Great Lent we anticipated, but it is nonetheless a fitting Lenten effort, "explained Archbishop Alexander, OCA bishop of Dallas and the South. In his letter to priests and parishioners he urged believers -- using a monastic image -- to recognize "that this initial response to this pandemic will work for the greater good of our faithful and our neighbors. Use this time of 'social distancing' for prayer and to keep vigil 'in one's cell.' "

Across the nation, some religious congregations met, drawing smaller flocks, while many closed their doors. Things were different at my home Orthodox parish in Oak Ridge, Tenn. We were somewhere in between.

, , , , ,

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."