On Sunday, April 18, the principal liturgy at 11:00 A.M was in many ways a typical American example of a vernacular Mass according to the “ordinary form,” or what many tradition-minded Catholics call the Novus Ordo. Still, it was more reverently and rubrically conducted than at many parishes. Fr. Matthew Yatkauskas, the parochial vicar, or curate, of the parish, was the celebrant and homilist. He exuded faith, piety, and precision of thought. In this reviewer’s opinion, however, Fr. Yatkauskas’ homily did not say all that the Church’s current situation calls for.
The Gospel passage on which Fr. Yatkauskas preached was John 21:1–19, which centers on the appearance of the risen Jesus to Peter and some of the other apostles on a morning after the men have spent a night fishing fruitlessly in the Sea of Galilee. Fr. Yatkauskas noted that the apostles exemplify how slow most Christians are to develop a lively faith: Even after the apostles have seen the risen Lord twice, their thought is to return to their old way of life. Their work’s nightlong failure, and the minor miracle of the huge catch to which the Lord alerts them at dawn, shows that he wants them to become “fishers of men.” By eating breakfast with them, Jesus also assures them that he is no ghost or figment of their imaginations.
The climax of this rich passage is, of course, Jesus’ asking Peter three times whether he loves him. This gives Peter the opportunity, which he takes, to expiate his three “denials” of Jesus after Jesus’ arrest. Fr. Yatkauskas effectively applied this lesson for each individual believer. But he did not say what is significant for the Church as a whole about the commission Jesus gives to Peter with the words “Feed my lambs; tend my sheep.”
According to Catholic understanding, Peter was the first pope, and the role of the papacy is precisely to tend the universal Church as “pastor,” or shepherd. At a time when the pope is under ferocious assault for what is perceived as a major failure in this regard, it would have been quite timely for the homilist to explain to the faithful how it is possible for popes to correct and atone for such failures.
Information
City: New York
Borough: Manhattan
Address: 404 Eat 87th Street
Phone: 212-289-6030
Website: www.stjosephsyorkville.org
Religion: Christian
Denomination: Roman Catholic
Main Service: 11:00 a.m. Sunday
Pastor: Fr. James Boniface Ramsey; celebrant and homilist at this liturgy, parochial vicar Fr. Matthew Yatkauskas
April 20th, 2010 | 1:55 pm
“My Dear Wormwood,
…
Surely you know that if a man
can’t be cured of churchgoing, the next best thing is to send him all over the
neighbourhood looking for the church that “suits” him until he becomes a taster
or connoisseur of churches. … the search for a “suitable” church makes the man a
critic where the Enemy wants him to be a pupil. What He wants of the layman in
church is an attitude which may, indeed, be critical in the sense of rejecting
what is false or unhelpful, but which is wholly uncritical in the sense that it
does not appraise—does not waste time in thinking about what it rejects, but
lays itself open in uncommenting, humble receptivity to any nourishment that is
going. (You see how grovelling, how unspiritual, how irredeemably vulgar He is!)
This attitude, especially during sermons, creates the condition (most hostile to
our whole policy) in which platitudes can become really audible to a human soul.
There is hardly any sermon, or any book, which may not be dangerous to us if it
is received in this temper. So pray bestir yourself and send this fool the round
of the neighbouring churches as soon as possible.
…
Your affectionate uncle,
Screwtape”
April 20th, 2010 | 3:08 pm
Are you objecting to the publication of sermon reviews itself? Or to the fact that I had one criticism of this sermon? Or what?
April 20th, 2010 | 3:18 pm
The former.
I think the vague discomfort I initially had with these reviews has solidified. I am already critical enough of everything around me. I really do have to fight the temptation to be “right about everything.” So when I go to church, for my own good, I need to be there to worship–not review.
I think it has to do with my reasons for entering the church in the first place. Entering with my mind set on “review” mode just seems problematic to me.
If this series is intended as a benefit to First Things readers who live in the area, that might be different. But it still feels funny.
April 20th, 2010 | 3:19 pm
Not that I am speaking on behalf of John; he can speak for himself.
April 20th, 2010 | 4:33 pm
Craig:
My previous two reviews were entirely positive about the sermons. A few people criticized me for not being critical enough. What can I say? One cannot please all the people all the time.
I think sermon reviews are useful in two ways: as information, calling people’s attention to what they are likely to hear at various churches; and as a stimulus to thought about the theological subject matter, even if a given reader never attends the place under review. Sermon reviews can readily achieve those purposes without readers’ necessarily agreeing with the reviewer.
Best,
Mike
April 20th, 2010 | 6:09 pm
The Church isn’t a denomination of Christianity.
April 20th, 2010 | 6:57 pm
I was objecting to the publication of sermon reviews in general.
Apologies for the lousy formatting of the quote.
April 20th, 2010 | 7:19 pm
Well Thomas, as a Catholic I agree with you. But what’s that got to do with the price of eggs?
April 20th, 2010 | 8:45 pm
I find the sermon reviews to be interesting. I haven’t been following them for very long but since I’m not from NYC, they’ve been a little glimpse inside churches that I will likely never attend. I haven’t found them to be especially critical that I can recall and they certainly haven’t inspired me to be critical of these churches or my own. In any event, I find them to be interesting reading and hope that you will continue.
April 20th, 2010 | 8:52 pm
John:
I’ve read The Screwtape Letters several times, as well as most of the rest of Lewis’ writings. In this case, I don’t think Lewis means what you think he means.
Lewis objected to two tendencies: that of many Protestants to decide which religious body to join by finding one which already conforms with beliefs they’ve arrived at on their own; and the tendency of many educated Anglicans to choose a church on aesthetic grounds, without regard to doctrine or discipline. That’s the context for the passage you quote from TSL.
I see nothing in that passage from which one must conclude that publishing one’s opinion of a sermon makes one a tool of Satan. It could become that for some readers if they have the wrong attitude to begin with. But it’s not that in itself.
April 21st, 2010 | 4:21 am
Bravo on the article, Mr. Liccione. Come now critics, that Screwtape excerpt is about relativism and religion hopping, not visiting different parishes of the universal (i.e., catholic and Catholic) Church. Each Catholic priest is supposed to be an avowed alter Christi. Since Christ is our teacher, each of His priests—each of His ministers—is required to teach and thus nourish us with salvific truth. So Mr. Liccione is righteously holding a priest accountable. Some years ago I unwittingly attended the neighborhood Catholic parish of my non-Catholic NYC hosts. Most of the parishioners were dressed androgenously and flaunting public displays of affection as the minister preached gender indifference. Yeah, my hosts laughed as I recalled the spectacle, but I wish Mr. Liccione could have exposed the Screwtape spirituality in that place.
April 21st, 2010 | 9:11 am
Michael,
Lewis was not only objecting to the tendencies to seek out a church conforming to your own belief and to choose a church on aesthetic grounds w/o regard for doctrine or discipline.
Look again at the text in the passage I quoted. Screwtape isn’t just trying to get the patient to choose the wrong church, he’s also trying to foster an attitude of criticism that the patient will take with him to whatever church he attends. A critical attitude prevents an attitude of receptivity, which “especially during sermons, creates the condition (most hostile to our whole policy) in which platitudes can become really audible to a human soul. There is hardly any sermon, or any book, which may not be dangerous to us if it is received in this temper.”
So, in addition to the tendencies you identify, Lewis is also objecting to the habit of acting as a critic during Mass, which he argues interferes with disposing yourself to receiving spiritual nourishment.
April 21st, 2010 | 6:33 pm
My father used to say, when my sisters and I were little, that the difference between a good sermon and a bad sermon was how much sleep he got the night before. This is an example of how we are open or closed to the insights offered in a sermon due to several factors, some interior, some exterior; some controllable, some out of our control. A proud, critical, fault-finding attitude is an interior factor largely within our control that closes us to the spiritual insights offered to us in a sermon.
But one can be critical without being proud and fault-finding. We should all try to be critical of all sermons in the sense of rejecting what is false and not dwelling on what is unhelpful. Moreover, there is a millennia-old tradition of critiquing sermons as literature and to learn how to write and deliver a good sermon. I have heard a rector say of another’s sermon, “The material was excellent, but it was too long. The congregation didn’t follow.” I remember my high school literature textbook pointing out that “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God” derives its rhetorical force from Edwards’s repetition of the motifs of fire, a spiderweb filament, and falling.
I find these Sermon Reviews to be this last kind of critique – the literary, learn-by-example kind. I would find it difficult to derive spiritual benefit from a sermon while also critiquing its form and delivery, but I cannot know whether the reviewers have this difficulty. Even if they do, perhaps they receive spiritual instruction for the week by attending another service in addition to the ones they review.
Or perhaps the benefit comes indirectly, by thinking later about the sermons’ key topics after the reviewers have crystalized them for the purpose of writing a review. In high school, I wrote summaries of each week’s chapel message for the school paper. Even if scrambling to take notes during the message meant I wasn’t thinking about how to apply it to my life, I got the chance later when I wrote my column. Also, my schoolmates benefited by a chance to review what we had heard.
Therefore, I think these reviews are a service to us ROFTERs.
April 21st, 2010 | 7:08 pm
Lewis is also objecting to the habit of acting as a critic during Mass, which he argues interferes with disposing yourself to receiving spiritual nourishment.
As is so often the case, a distinction is needed here. If one attends a service with the intent of dissing it, one is rather unlikely to receive much of what’s good in it. To that extent, the view you ascribe to Lewis is just common sense. But it’s quite possible to receive what’s good in it while criticizing it for failing to offer some additional good besides. That’s what I did in my review, and that’s what Lewis sometimes did himself.
To insist that one never be critical of liturgies or sermons, either in spirit or in public, would be the rankest clericalism. Satan has a lot more fun with that sort of thing than with what I do. And Lewis was no clericalist.
April 21st, 2010 | 11:08 pm
“Craig:
My previous two reviews were entirely positive about the sermons. A few people criticized me for not being critical enough. What can I say? One cannot please all the people all the time.”
Dear Michael:
It wasn’t the criticism, really. I think criticism of a sermon or a service is legitimate and necessary at times, whether the critique is positive or negative. It is just (and probably this is just me; I’m not trying to make a rule here) the purpose of attendance that bothers me. It’s like the difference between going to a restaurant because I’m hungry and going to the same restaurant not because I’m hungry, but in order to critique the food. The function of the critic is a valid one, but when we go to church, I think the motivation should be because we are hungry.
Now if I don’t get fed, or get fed poison, yes, I’ll critique, loudly. But that wasn’t my original motivation for attending.
Hope this distinction makes some sense. As I said, it’s not intended as a general guide for everyone–it is intended to help subdue my own snarky tendencies.
Best, Craig
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