A Sunday Thought About Gaining an Edge in a Devastated Vinyard
During weekly posts, we've been talking about gaining an edge. There our focus has been on our work: We need to recognize that much of what's been happening in the world around us since the COVID lockdowns may create distractions that can detract from our work.
Why should we care about this? Put simply, if we work for the greater glory of God, that means we want to do our utmost to work diligently and produce the best "product" - whatever the nature of our work - that we possibly can. Anything that causes us to be distracted, that takes away from the time we devote to our work diminishes that effort and, therefore, that product. Ergo, we're not serving the greater glory of God as best we can.
You can look back to last week's posts to see what we've come up with so far. And the coming week, we'll search for more ideas for gaining and edge at work. But now it's Sunday. And it occurs to me that we may need an edge for our Sundays too.
The title of this post referenced "gaining an edge in a Devastated Vineyard." The Devastated Vineyard is a book by the great Catholic philosopher, Dietrich Von Hildebrand, published in 1973. It followed his Trojan Horse in the City of God. Just consider the titles of these two works and you'll get some idea what they're about. The books were motivated by what happened to our beloved Church after Vatican II.
If you're still not sure about what Von Hildebrand was up to in these two books, consider this from the preface of The Devastated Vineyard:
"The enemies who were hidden in the Trojan Horse have stepped out of their encampment and the active work of destruction is in high gear... The purpose of this book is... to give a short, clear presentation of the principal errors which are being presented today as a breakthrough of the 'modern' man who has 'come of age,' whom one can supposedly no longer expect to believe the teaching of the Church in the form it has taken up to now.... Secondly, we shall especially try to unmask those hidden, subtle errors ... under beautiful, apparently noble titles, and whose danger is often overlooked even by believing Catholics."
Got it?
Now think about this. It's been almost 50 years since The Devastated Vinyard first appeared. And at the time of publication, the process described had already wreaked havoc in Holy Mother Church. Where are we now?
Some have clung to the notion that Pope St. John Paul II took it upon himself to stop the madness, even reverse its progress. Such people see Benedict XVI as continuing that effort. We won't get into a debate here about whether that's true, or, if so, how effective their efforts have been. Let's just say there are valid arguments that question the efficacy of those efforts.
In my own case, I've long recognized the destructive intentions and results of certain operatives who used Vatican II to undermine, even tear apart the Church for their own ends. Add to those who were and are arguably heretics and apostates a vast number of prelates and lay Catholics who have, with reasonably good intentions, cooperated with an array of innovations they believed had and would "improve' or "update" the religious practices of the Church. Top all of this off with those who, like me, have mostly just drifted through the mess after Vatican II, sometimes attending the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM), sometimes the Novus Ordo.
And, oh, let's not forget the hard core "Trads" - as they've come to be known - who believe they've got the tiger by the tail and will straighten everything out by adhering strictly to tradition. While some of what they say can appeal to those of us who see the Vineyard as devastated, once you scratch the surface you find various factions, sometimes at each others' throats, one claiming to be more traditional or authentic than the other.
Which brings us now to Sunday: The Lord's Day, a day of rest. Sure, it's that; should always be. But if you're one who understands the claims of The Devastated Vineyard, maybe you need an edge to hone your Sunday a bit - or a lot.
Typically, Sunday - the first day of the week - provides us the opportunity to start the week off on the right foot: Give your time and attention to God in a special way that you may not be able to during a typically busy week at work, or a Saturday filled with domestic chores.
If the message of The Devastated Vineyard rings true for you - as it does for me - then maybe we intensify our efforts on Sunday. To do so could give us an edge to face the truth of what's happened to our beloved Church. We might gain an edge in dealing with the devastation as it has impacted our own lives and the lives of our loved ones.
And, if you give any consideration to all that's torn our Holy Mother Church from her centuries-old traditions, you know that it has certainly impacted us all.
As with our lockdown-induced economic recession, and the spread of violent social unrest, no individual can change a broad trend that's gathered momentum. But simply being aware of these affords us the opportunity to figure our how to manage the consequences in our own lives and, perhaps, the lives of our loved ones.
While what I've been doing may not apply or prove helpful to you, here's a quick summary, for what it's worth.
As I have during the week, I've tried to carve out additional time to be with God. Quiet meditation, increased study of our Catholic religion and reading of spiritual works form the nucleus of my efforts.
I've tried to talk more openly of my faith to family. Not preaching, but, when appropriate, how it has helped me deal with a specific issue or problem. I've never been good at talking openly about my faith, and I'm not sure whether my hesitant and awkward attempts now will bear any fruit, but there it is.
Interestingly, I've curtailed and even tried to eliminate my typical carping about the music at Mass, the "Protestantizing" of the Mass (Novus Ordo), the often bland sermons, the woeful lack of leadership coming from our bishops - never mind the kow-towing to the state that closed our churches for so long, with the subsequent spillover of social-distancing, masks, the banning of Communion on the tongue, etc. I had started cooling it before the C-Virus mess commenced. But now, it seems more important to really bear down.
The fact is, complaining hardly ever accomplishes anything, and frequently causes your audience (in this case, my family) to tune you out. Who wants to hear it?
So despite my understanding of our "Devastated Vineyard," I don't constantly think about or talk about it.
On the other hand, what's happened since the lockdown and closing of churches has brought all that The Devastated Vineyard (along with other important works addressing the same issues) clearly delineated a half century ago front and center. There's just now way to minimize, never mind avoid, what's happened. That's why gaining an edge on Sundays has become an important and urgent matter.
I'm hoping and praying that my desire to gain an edge, precipitated by this continuing mess, doesn't dissipate. I don't want to slip back into that drifter mode that held me in a No-Man's Land between the authentic traditions of our Catholic religion and the modernist innovations/distortions/perversions that have tried to gut those traditions.
If you've never considered the issues raised by The Devastated Vineyard, consider them now. If you're a Trad who thinks you're one of the Chosen who've seen the light while the rest of us stumble about in the darkness, consider praying for the virtue of humillity. And if you've been betwixt and between, sort of treading water as I've been in recent years, consider taking a stand and turning to Our Lord and His Holy Spirit for guidance about what you should be doing now to help restore what's been ripped from the heart of the Church.
Wherever you are, let's all pray for each other. God's will be done!
Why should we care about this? Put simply, if we work for the greater glory of God, that means we want to do our utmost to work diligently and produce the best "product" - whatever the nature of our work - that we possibly can. Anything that causes us to be distracted, that takes away from the time we devote to our work diminishes that effort and, therefore, that product. Ergo, we're not serving the greater glory of God as best we can.
You can look back to last week's posts to see what we've come up with so far. And the coming week, we'll search for more ideas for gaining and edge at work. But now it's Sunday. And it occurs to me that we may need an edge for our Sundays too.
The title of this post referenced "gaining an edge in a Devastated Vineyard." The Devastated Vineyard is a book by the great Catholic philosopher, Dietrich Von Hildebrand, published in 1973. It followed his Trojan Horse in the City of God. Just consider the titles of these two works and you'll get some idea what they're about. The books were motivated by what happened to our beloved Church after Vatican II.
If you're still not sure about what Von Hildebrand was up to in these two books, consider this from the preface of The Devastated Vineyard:
"The enemies who were hidden in the Trojan Horse have stepped out of their encampment and the active work of destruction is in high gear... The purpose of this book is... to give a short, clear presentation of the principal errors which are being presented today as a breakthrough of the 'modern' man who has 'come of age,' whom one can supposedly no longer expect to believe the teaching of the Church in the form it has taken up to now.... Secondly, we shall especially try to unmask those hidden, subtle errors ... under beautiful, apparently noble titles, and whose danger is often overlooked even by believing Catholics."
Got it?
Now think about this. It's been almost 50 years since The Devastated Vinyard first appeared. And at the time of publication, the process described had already wreaked havoc in Holy Mother Church. Where are we now?
Some have clung to the notion that Pope St. John Paul II took it upon himself to stop the madness, even reverse its progress. Such people see Benedict XVI as continuing that effort. We won't get into a debate here about whether that's true, or, if so, how effective their efforts have been. Let's just say there are valid arguments that question the efficacy of those efforts.
In my own case, I've long recognized the destructive intentions and results of certain operatives who used Vatican II to undermine, even tear apart the Church for their own ends. Add to those who were and are arguably heretics and apostates a vast number of prelates and lay Catholics who have, with reasonably good intentions, cooperated with an array of innovations they believed had and would "improve' or "update" the religious practices of the Church. Top all of this off with those who, like me, have mostly just drifted through the mess after Vatican II, sometimes attending the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM), sometimes the Novus Ordo.
And, oh, let's not forget the hard core "Trads" - as they've come to be known - who believe they've got the tiger by the tail and will straighten everything out by adhering strictly to tradition. While some of what they say can appeal to those of us who see the Vineyard as devastated, once you scratch the surface you find various factions, sometimes at each others' throats, one claiming to be more traditional or authentic than the other.
Which brings us now to Sunday: The Lord's Day, a day of rest. Sure, it's that; should always be. But if you're one who understands the claims of The Devastated Vineyard, maybe you need an edge to hone your Sunday a bit - or a lot.
Typically, Sunday - the first day of the week - provides us the opportunity to start the week off on the right foot: Give your time and attention to God in a special way that you may not be able to during a typically busy week at work, or a Saturday filled with domestic chores.
If the message of The Devastated Vineyard rings true for you - as it does for me - then maybe we intensify our efforts on Sunday. To do so could give us an edge to face the truth of what's happened to our beloved Church. We might gain an edge in dealing with the devastation as it has impacted our own lives and the lives of our loved ones.
And, if you give any consideration to all that's torn our Holy Mother Church from her centuries-old traditions, you know that it has certainly impacted us all.
As with our lockdown-induced economic recession, and the spread of violent social unrest, no individual can change a broad trend that's gathered momentum. But simply being aware of these affords us the opportunity to figure our how to manage the consequences in our own lives and, perhaps, the lives of our loved ones.
While what I've been doing may not apply or prove helpful to you, here's a quick summary, for what it's worth.
As I have during the week, I've tried to carve out additional time to be with God. Quiet meditation, increased study of our Catholic religion and reading of spiritual works form the nucleus of my efforts.
I've tried to talk more openly of my faith to family. Not preaching, but, when appropriate, how it has helped me deal with a specific issue or problem. I've never been good at talking openly about my faith, and I'm not sure whether my hesitant and awkward attempts now will bear any fruit, but there it is.
Interestingly, I've curtailed and even tried to eliminate my typical carping about the music at Mass, the "Protestantizing" of the Mass (Novus Ordo), the often bland sermons, the woeful lack of leadership coming from our bishops - never mind the kow-towing to the state that closed our churches for so long, with the subsequent spillover of social-distancing, masks, the banning of Communion on the tongue, etc. I had started cooling it before the C-Virus mess commenced. But now, it seems more important to really bear down.
The fact is, complaining hardly ever accomplishes anything, and frequently causes your audience (in this case, my family) to tune you out. Who wants to hear it?
So despite my understanding of our "Devastated Vineyard," I don't constantly think about or talk about it.
On the other hand, what's happened since the lockdown and closing of churches has brought all that The Devastated Vineyard (along with other important works addressing the same issues) clearly delineated a half century ago front and center. There's just now way to minimize, never mind avoid, what's happened. That's why gaining an edge on Sundays has become an important and urgent matter.
I'm hoping and praying that my desire to gain an edge, precipitated by this continuing mess, doesn't dissipate. I don't want to slip back into that drifter mode that held me in a No-Man's Land between the authentic traditions of our Catholic religion and the modernist innovations/distortions/perversions that have tried to gut those traditions.
If you've never considered the issues raised by The Devastated Vineyard, consider them now. If you're a Trad who thinks you're one of the Chosen who've seen the light while the rest of us stumble about in the darkness, consider praying for the virtue of humillity. And if you've been betwixt and between, sort of treading water as I've been in recent years, consider taking a stand and turning to Our Lord and His Holy Spirit for guidance about what you should be doing now to help restore what's been ripped from the heart of the Church.
Wherever you are, let's all pray for each other. God's will be done!
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