Showing posts with label Persons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Persons. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Celebrity leftovers: the agony of Mel Gibson

Our film and media correspondent called my attention recently to Max Lindenman's piece, "Welcome Back, Mel, You Creep. I Missed You" (The Anchoress, May 7, 2011), and commented:
Interesting little piece on Mel Gibson. I confess when I saw the trailer for "The Beaver," I cringed. I am somewhat of the opinion that faith and celebrity are entirely incompatible, although I know this can't really be the case. But celebrities trying to walk the straight-and-narrow seem to implode by default. Also, the core of Hollywood culture is vanity, so how does anyone square that?

I looked back on this older piece on him, which I thought helpful, and the comments that ensued pretty good as well.

But you really realize what was potentially there and at least somewhat lost when you read this old New Yorker piece, which had some stunning stuff in it.
One can appreciate the ambivalence of Lindenmann toward Mel Gibson: "Really, I can’t put my finger on why I’m feeling so sentimental about Mel Gibson — not after his anti-Semitic tantrum, his racist tantrum, his domestic- partner abuse, his ... you name it." But then there is also this little, sometimes inconvenient, fact about his also being a Catholic, having unquestionable talent, and that he has clawed his way out of previous pits of self-indulgent sin and desperation to make films like Braveheart, The Patriot and The Passion of the Christ. None of us may be so notorious a sinner as Gibson, but we also know, as he surely does, that the Church and Her Sacraments are, in the end, a matter of one beggar telling another where to find bread.

[Hat tip to J.M.]

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Liturgy and personality

I remember reading somewhere how Dietrich von Hildebrand, after converting to the Catholic Faith, used to run enthusiastically down the street, coattails flying, to be on time for daily Mass. He loved everything about his newfound religion. As much as anything else, he loved its liturgy.

In fact, he even wrote a book entitled Liturgy and Personality,about the “healing power of formal prayer” -- the power of liturgy to profoundly form and positively shape personality. Far from furnishing us with mere training wheels until we "mature" into more personal and spontaneous prayers "from the heart," formal liturgical prayer is actually the superior form of prayer, according to von Hildebrand. The key is to enter into the prayer of the Church, to make it one's own, to "pray the Mass," as St. Pope Pius X used to say, and to live it.

Formal liturgy -- so staid and “impersonal,” and even “oppressive” in the eyes of so many today -- is actually set forth in its proper meaning as the “source and summit” of our prayer life as Catholics, the place where we encounter our Lord and our God, see where we belong in His Kingdom and, in the process, learn who we are meant to be. In coming to know our God through the Church's liturgy, we come to know ourselves.

An Editor’s note in the latest edition of the book states that "Liturgy and Personality concerns the essence of the liturgy rather than the details of any particular liturgy,” and so urges the reader “to use von Hildebrand’s numerous liturgical examples to discover the gist of his arguments demonstrating the personality-forming power of the Liturgy,” so that these points can then “be related, where appropriate, to comparable elements in today’s Liturgy.”

It is no small point, however, that Liturgy and Personality was first published in 1932 in German: the Mass von Hildebrand loved, and through which he encountered the Lord, was the traditional Latin Mass of the Roman Rite -- the one most Catholics and others today would experience as something prima facie alien, if not alienating, including its "impersonal" Latin and the priest's "back turned to the people." This is the Mass -- this one -- to which he would fly down the street with his open coat billowing behind him!

It's enough to make any sane person wonder, is it not? But then, what is sanity, liturgically speaking? Is it the product of liturgical committees? Remember the joke about the difference between a liturgist and a terrorist? You can negotiate with the terrorist.

First and foremost, von Hildebrand was a Catholic philosopher, and his books on ethics and value-theory are substantial and profound. In the latter half of his life, however, after moving to the United States and after the Second World War, he increasingly turned the attention of his formidable mind to matters of the Church. For him, these were matters of the heart; and he was especially concerned with developments in the Church in the modern post-war world. Many of these developments he found troubling -- modernism, secularism, relativism, dissent, immorality -- and, above all, some of the experiments and innovations he lived to see in the Church's sacred liturgy.

Related:

Friday, May 01, 2009

Public symbols: Woodward & Jenkins on Notre Dame

As a follow-up on our recent post, "Kenneth Woodward on Notre Dame: a critique" (Musings, April 30, 2009), a friend and correspondent from the West Coast writes:
From Ken Woodward's defense of ND's Obama invite (The Washington Post, March 30, 2009): "He will receive an honorary degree because it is the custom, not as a blessing on any of his decisions."

Dear. God. In. Heaven.

A custom with meaning, or a custom without meaning?

If without meaning, then by all means let Fr Jenkins open the ceremony with, "What we are about to do is simply a custom without meaning. Let us proceed."

If with meaning, then what does it mean?

Re: said meaning, Fr Jenkins tells us that ND's proposed honors (incl. the honorary doctorate) do not signify (that is, mean) an endorsement of any evil policy of Obama's. Well, I'm sure they don't... in Fr. Jenkins' mind. Otherwise, Fr. Jenkins would himself be in dissent from the Church's moral teaching.

Both these gentlemen are displaying an obtuseness regarding the nature of a public symbol, that I am sure neither would display in other contexts. Fr Jenkins says, in effect, "This honorary doctorate means what I wish it to mean, neither more nor less" (cf. Humpty Dumpty). Indeed, in Fr. Jenkins' little private world of symbols, this honorary degree may mean (or not mean) whatever he wills. But it is not up to him to determine the meaning of a public symbol, said meaning being... well, public. And the public is letting him know what it means.

Therefore, it would be wrong (though tempting to some pessimistic souls) to say that public symbols are generally empty of meaning in our culture. On the contrary. Our elites employ such symbols with venal cynicism, precisely in order to trade on the public meaning they still retain. People like Woodward and Fr Jenkins are, we hope, not cynics. But they are myopic, and both the cynicism and the myopia are symptoms of our time.
[Hat tip to K.K.]

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Have yourself a shocking little Christmas

"Let us, in Heaven's name, drag out the Divine Drama from under the dreadful accumulation of slipshod thinking and trashy sentiment heaped upon it, and set it on an open stage to startle the world into some sort of vigorous reaction. If the pious are the first to be shocked, so much the worse for the pious — others will enter the Kingdom of Heaven before them. If all men are offended because of Christ, let them be offended; but where is the sense of their being offended at something that is not Christ and is nothing like Him? We do Him singularly little honor by watering down till it could not offend a fly. Surely it is not the business of the Church to adapt Christ to men, but to adapt men to Christ." (Dorothy Sayers, Creed or Chaos? 24-25).

[Hat tip to E.E.]