Sunday, September 30, 2012

"Theodicy" ~ 요셉 라칭거 추기경/교황 베네딕토 16세 (Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger/Pope Benedict XVI)

"Today, after the horrors of totalitarian regimes, the problem of theodicy urgently and mightily demands the attention of us all; this is not just one more indication of how little we are capable of defining God, much less fathoming him.  After all, God's answer to Job explains nothing; rather, it sets boundaries to our mania for judging everything and being able to say the final word on a subject, and it reminds us of our limitations.  It admonishes us to trust the mystery of God in its incomprehensibility"

-- Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, page 26 of the Preface to the New Edition of Introduction to Christianity (Einführung in das Christentum; 그리스도 신앙 어제와 오늘)

Monday, September 17, 2012

한국 천주교 1950년 Korea Catholic 1950

I was in Seoul and saw some pictures promoting the good that American and allied forces did during and after the Korean War. Some pictures had Catholic images. Here they are:

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

"In Every Place There Is Sacrifice" ~ 프란치스코 하비에르 라산스 신부님 (Father Francis Xavier Lasance)

Did you ever think that the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is being offered in some part of the world every hour of your life? When it is midnight in New York, Masses are beginning in the churches of Italy. There ancient altars, at which Saints have knelt, are lit up with tapers, and the Vicar of Christ and thousands of priests are lifting holy hands up to Heaven. A little later and the bells of a thousand towers in France begin to sprinkle the air with holy sounds; and in every city, town and hamlet, kneeling crowds adore the chastening hand of God and pray for sinners who despise His ordinances.

Chivalric and religious Spain catches the echoes, and when it is one a.m. in New York, offers the great Sacrifice in countless splendid churches. And then Catholic Ireland, the "Island of Saints," which has during many centuries suffered for the Faith, rallies anew around the altars it would never forsake. At two o'clock and after, the priests of the islands of the Atlantic -perhaps the Cape Verde- white-robed and stoled and wearing the great cross on their shoulders, bend before the tabernacle. An hour later a courageous missionary lifts up the chalice of salvation on the ice-bound coast of Greenland.

At half-past four the sacred lamps twinkle through the fogs of Newfoundland; and at five, Nova Scotia's industrious population begins the day by attending Mass. And now all the Canadian churches and chapels grow radiant as the faithful people -the habitant of the country, the devout citizen, the consecrated nun, and the innocent- hasten to unite their prayers around the sanctuary where the priest is awaiting them. At six, how many souls are flocking to the churches of New York, eager to begin the day of labor with the holiest act of religion! Many young people, too, gather around the altar at a later hour, like the fresh flowers open with the morning, and offer their dewy fragrance to Heaven. An hour later the bells of Missouri and Louisiana are ringing; and at eight, Mexico, true to her faith, bends before her glittering altars. At nine the devout tribes of Oregon follow their beloved black gown to their gay chapels, and California awhile loosens its grasp on its gold to think of the treasure that rust doth not corrupt.

And when the Angelus bell is ringing at noon in New York, the unbloody Sacrifice is being offered up in the islands of the Pacific, where there are generous souls laboring for our dear Lord. And so the bells are ringing on, on, over the waters, and one taper after another catches the light of faith, making glad all the isles of the sea. At two the zealous missionaries of Australia are murmuring with haste, eager for the coming of Our Lord: "Introibo ad altare Dei." And all the spicy islands of the East catch the sweet sounds, one after another, till at four in the afternoon China proves there are many souls who are worthy of the name of celestial by their rapt devotion at the early rite. Then in Tibet there is many a modest chapel where the missionary distributes the Bread of Life to a crowd of hungry souls.

At six the altars of Hindustan, where St. Francis Xavier ministered, are arrayed with their flowers and lamps and the sacred vessels, and unwearied priests are hastening to fortify their souls before Him Who is their life and their strength. At nine in Siberia, where many a poor Catholic exile from Poland has no other solace from his woes but the foot of the altar and the Bread of Heaven. During the hours when New York is gay with parties and balls and theatrical amusements, the holiest of rites is going on in the Indian Ocean and among the sable tribes of Africa, whose souls are so dear to the Saviour Who once died for all. At eleven in Jerusalem, the Holy City over which Jesus wept, where He wrought so many miracles, where He suffered and offered Himself a sacrifice for the whole world.

When midnight sounds again in New York, the silver bells are tinkling again in every chancel in Rome. And so it goes on; the divine Host is constantly rising like the sun in its course around the earth. Thus are fulfilled the words of the prophet Malachias [1:11]: "From the rising of the sun even to the going down thereof, My name is great among the Gentiles; and in every place there is sacrifice, and there is offered to My name a clean oblation: for My name is great among the Gentiles, saith the Lord of hosts."

Not an instant of time passes that a Mass is not offered, and the Host not adored. Talk of an Empire on which the sun never sets, of the British reveille drum ever beating as our planet revolves on its axis and day chases night around the globe; what is that to the unending oblation of the Catholic Church? What moment is not a priest's voice uttering "Te igitur, clementissime Pater!" What moment is not counted by the bell which announces the silent and invisible coming of their God to prostrate adorers in some quiet sanctuary, in Europe, or in Asia, or in America, in the Atlantic cities or in the woods of Oregon, in the Alps or on the Andes, on the vast terra firma all along the Meridians or on the scattered islands of the sea?

-Webster (Knickerbockers' Mag., p.638, vol.38, 1851).