Tabernacles, the Vatican, “Catholic” Politicians

(and the “JFK Legacy,” sheesh)

by Kelly Clark — the lady in the pew — January 17, 2003

The newly released Vatican document, “Doctrinal Note On Some Questions Regarding the Participation of Catholics in Political Life,” received a sadly predictable reaction from presidential wanna-be Senator John Kerry, one-time presidential wanna-be Senator Ted Kennedy, and others.

They’re not impressed.

The document states, in part, that “those who are directly involved in lawmaking bodies have a grave and clear obligation to oppose any law that attacks human life. For them, as for every Catholic, it is impossible to promote such laws or to vote for them.”

But the senators and others chose to adhere, not to the teachings of the Church, but instead to the “The Great Kennedy Legacy,” to which they remain staunchly and steadfastly loyal.

I’ll tell you more about “The Great Kennedy Legacy” in a second (okay, in a few minutes) but first:

Let me tell you about a church I visited last Saturday!!!

Whenever I visit a church new to me, my first question is: “Where’s the tabernacle?”

This is, I believe, a reasonable question. Why? Because in so many Catholic churches, I’ve discovered, finding the tabernacle is no easy task. It could be anywhere! It could be off to the side somewhere, or downstairs, or in a closet — one never knows. So rather than meandering around, looking like the clueless person I, in fact, am, I’ve found it prudent just to ask right up front.

And so, when I visited Saint Jerome’s Catholic Church in Weymouth, Massachusetts last Saturday, I posed my usual question. Imagine my surprise when I was directed to the main altar! Who would’ve thunk it? I was thrilled!

I’m always thrilled to see the tabernacle behind, or at least reasonably nearby, the main altar. I visit Stamford, Connecticut once a year, and the high point of my week-end is Mass at Saint John the Evangelist Church. The tabernacle is in clear view, right behind the main altar, its red lamp burning brightly. You can’t miss it! And everybody — the altar servers, the folks entering the church, the celebrants, the readers — unfailingly genuflect before it. Before Mass, and during Mass, and after Mass. No uncertainty there!

But Saint John’s in Stamford and Saint Jerome’s in Weymouth are, I’ve found, rarities, among parish churches, anyway.

Shrines, such as Saint Clement’s Eucharistic Shrine, Saint Anthony’s Shrine, and Saint Francis Chapel — all in Boston — don’t seem to have a problem with Jesus in clear view.

But as a rule, in parish churches, Jesus in the tabernacle has been, well, “displaced.”

Now, I’m sure there are many wise and theologically inspired ways to explain why tabernacles have been moved to out-of-the-way, hard-to-find nooks and crannies. I seem to recall something about the presence of the Real Presence sorta “taking away” from the miracle of the Transubstantiation at the Consecration.

You wouldn’t know that if you attended Mass at, for example, Saint John’s in Stamford. At the moments of elevation, bells peal resoundingly. And the ensuing silence is almost achingly profound.

So, I don’t quite get it this “taking away,” stuff. But I’m not here to argue liturgical fine points.

I just know what I view from the pew.

And what I see is sometimes, if not appalling, then at least confusing.

People are ignoring God. Or just missing Him!

In my parish church, Jesus is reserved in an exquisitely beautiful place called, appropriately enough, the “Blessed Sacrament Chapel.” Parishioners know this, and, upon entering the church, generally head straight for the chapel for a few moments of silent adoration. That’s fine, if you’re a parishioner.

The problems creep up when folks are unfamiliar with the territory. Which is a considerable population in my parish church, since it happens to be the Mother Church of the Archdiocese.

In my mind, I’ve sorta divided them into three lose groups:

A: The “I-haven’t-been-here-before-but-attend-Mass-regularly” folks

These people frequently head for a large tabernacle directly in front of a side altar, and they kneel before it. I silently applaud this gesture, especially since there aren’t any kneelers there. Unfortunately, the reserved Sacrament isn’t kept there either. I know, I know, the lack of a sanctuary lamp should indicate this, but c’mon, give these folks a break. Their hearts are in the right place. If it seems appropriate, a gentle parishioner may (gently) direct the visitor toward the Blessed Sacrament Chapel: information that is always received with gratitude.

B: The “I-haven’t-been-to-Mass-for-a-spell-but-what-the-heck-let’s-see-what’s-going-on” group

These folks tend to make their way down the aisle with a great deal of uncertainty. When they finally decide where to sit, they either perform what I call a “half-genuflection” vaguely toward the main altar (or, in the case of some of the ladies, make a little curtsy) before taking a pew. See, I don’t think they’re exactly sure what the rules are anymore. When they were kids, they were probably taught to genuflect before taking their seats. Now “With All The Changes in The Church These Days,” they feel like actors without a script. I ache for Group B folks.

C: The “Okay-let’s-check-out-the-architecture-and-furnishings” crowd

Group C folks aren’t uncertain at all. They’re there to look at the windows and what not. Since the Blessed Sacrament Chapel is so beautiful, it’s on their list of “what to see in Boson,” and they usually stride right in without so much as a how-dee-do to Jesus, chattering about the wall color or some such. They’re there for the “culture,” not for the Christ. That’s bad enough, but you know what’s worse, to my way of thinking? Nobody says anything about it. Nobody whispers something like: “Excuse me, but Jesus Christ is present, and while I’m glad you think the chapel is pretty, can you keep your voices down?”

I don’t know. It’s almost as if Jesus — the Real Presence of Jesus Christ we’re talking about here — doesn’t really matter much.

“Uh, Kelly? What does this have to do with Catholic politicians?”

EVERYTHING!!!!

Well, maybe not everything. But a great deal, I think.

Here’s my reasoning:

If people aren’t regularly exposed to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament; if they don’t actually witness celebrating priests, deacons, altar servers, lectors, and their fellow worshippers reverently, lovingly, and frequently showing their adoration of Jesus, how can we expect others to emulate this adoration?

And if the existence of Jesus Christ is apparently so inconsequential that it usually takes a road map to find him, then, gee:

How can we expect politicians — or ordinary Catholics, for that matter — to take what His Vicar on Earth has to say all that seriously?

The Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ, present in the tabernacle, isn’t called the “Bread of Heaven” for nothing, friends. But many of us just aren’t seeing that. We walk into our churches and — many of us, anyway — chat with our friends about earthly concerns. We receive Holy Communion — an act that miraculously places us in sublime intimacy with Jesus Christ — and a few minutes later we’re back chatting with our friends about earthly concerns.

Which brings me back to “The Great Kennedy Legacy.”

When Senators Kerry et al speak about “The Great Kennedy Legacy,” they’re not exactly talking about The Peace Corps. Or college desegregation. Or even witty press conferences, “Camelot,” or Marilyn Monroe breathing “Happy Birthday Mister President.”

And you can forget about asking not what your country can do for you, etc., etc.

We’re talking about a campaign promise. We’re talking about what a Catholic senator on the campaign trail said to a group of protestant ministers ‘way back in 1960. Here’s a paraphrase:

“Hey revs! I’m not taking any orders from any Pope, so please, please, don’t be squeamish about you and your flocks voting for me for president, just on accounta I’m a Catholic, okay?”

Eschewing Rome, “Catholic” politicians, and the “Catholic” people in and out of the pews who support them clutch firmly to their collective bosoms the notion that being liked here on earth is the be-all and end-all.

They “respect” the teachings of the Vatican. But they crave the approval of their voters far more. And if the voters — whether they call themselves “Catholic” or not — want abortion on demand, euthanasia, free condoms and birth control pills for high-schoolers, the death penalty, and homosexual marriage, why, then I guess the Vatican — and Christ Himself — will have to take a back seat.

While “respecting” the Vatican, Senator Kerry venerates “the lasting legacy of President Kennedy.”

What about the “lasting legacy” of Jesus Christ, I wonder?

At least Congressman Stephen Lynch is honest about the whole thing. “When I sought election to this office,” he said yesterday, “I did accept the inevitability that the path to being a good Catholic and the path to being a good congressman might at times diverge.”

Lynch added:

“My hope is that these instances will be rare.”

How about praying, instead, that these instances be non-existent? In front of the tabernacle?

Presuming, of course, that it can be found.

And now for the fine print:

Kelly Clark is your basic nobody. She serves on no parish councils, belongs to none of the myriad of designer-chic "Catholic" groups, or any Catholic group, for that matter, other than the Roman Catholic Church. Holding no theology degrees, she has no desire so see herself or any of her sex wearing a clerical collar. She figures Jesus knew what He was doing when He established His Church, and also figures that it’s His Church, not hers, and not yours. She’s an ordinary parishioner of Cathedral of the Holy Cross, Boston.

Use the links on the left to e-mail Kelly, to visit her parish, read past columns, and check out other cool stuff.

Copyright: Kelly Clark, 2003. I don’t care if you share this stuff with others. In fact, I hope you do! Only I’d appreciate it if you’d link me, or print it off as it is. In other words, don’t change anything. Thanks.

“The Lady in the Pew” column is updated weekly, God willing. To be notified of updates, please e-mail me. The link’s on the left.

“Mary, Mother of God, pray for us. Mary, Mother of the Church, pray for us.”