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April 2, 2023

The assault on traditional Christians by the pope, of all leaders, and lately by the FBI, of all agencies, calls for an honest explanation.

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Why is the pope turning his back on his own Church? Why is the FBI violating the guaranteed right of Americans to religious freedom?

Since I witnessed Catholic worship long before the church was changed in the 1960s, I can offer some insight into the what and the why of this issue, from eye-witness information recorded in my autobiography. (This is from the perspective of a resident of New York City.)

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Before proceeding, I need to remind that the church I speak of is the Church founded by Jesus Christ [ref. Matthew 16:18].

I begin with a view through the eyes of a child. Entering the Church, it was understood that you entered as a child of God, regardless of age. It was a relation connecting you with a power greater than every self and greater than everything in the world – a power that inspired stained glass windows, great architecture, organs, beautiful music, stunning paintings and sculptures . . . the power behind all good things in life. In my childlike way I understood that the prayers and rituals, the echoing altar incantations in Latin – the global language of the Mass – the celestial music from the choir loft, all formed part of the human way of being in the presence of God.

During Lent, a time to reflect on the passion and crucifixion of Christ, when worship was muted and purple cloth shrouded iconic statuary, a sense of mystery wrapped everyone in a sense of anticipation that grew to an almost unbearable intensity. Then, on Easter morning, the pent-up energy burst forth in glorious music, in flowers, in joyous singing and celebration over Christ’s victory of life over death.

It was a triumph from God who, though almighty, entered the lives of the faithful to sustain them, guide them, and assure justice in a wicked world – not just in talk and symbols and tones but in comm-union with God.

In the glory of the Mass – in the tonal richness of a pipe organ, in the air scented with incense, in the resonant chanting of the priest at the altar – in singing from a trained choir that lifted you outside of yourself – the choir sometimes drowned by the people singing with all their hearts the Tantum Ergo Sacramentum – I felt at home.

After many years since that time and many reasons to doubt the faith along the way, my mind has not changed regarding the validity and the power of that faith. For it is where you, Creator, heritage, past, present, and future merge and focus – an integration with one’s ground of being as essential to life as breathing.