Homily – 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Rev. Eric M. Augenstein
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)
St. Agnes Catholic Church– October 27/28, 2018
Jeremiah 31.7-9 Psalm 126 Hebrews 5.1-6 Mark 10.46-52

Something that night changed me. It was the first Friday of September, a little less than two months ago. As the First Friday of the month, the young adult ministry office for the Archdiocese of Indianapolis was holding a night of Eucharistic Adoration, followed by dinner and a social. It was being held that month at Ss. Peter and Paul Cathedral in Indianapolis, where I live during the week, and I had been asked to preside at the Holy Hour and hear confessions. I remember that the weather that night reflected the mood of many of us in the Church in those days – it was raining, pretty heavily; a wet and dreary late-summer evening. It had only been a few weeks at that point since the release of the Pennsylvania Grand Jury report on clergy sexual abuse, alongside all of the other sin and scandal that was weighing down the Church. It was a dreary night in Indianapolis that reflected the dark night of the soul that many of us felt deep inside. But something happened that night that changed me.

We really didn’t know who was going to show up for the Holy Hour. Would the rain keep people away? Would the scandals keep people away? Would the busy lives of young adults direct their attention elsewhere? But they did come. Well over a hundred young adult Catholics, most in their 20s, gathered in the midst of the dreariness to pray, to turn to Jesus present in the Eucharist, to gaze upon him and to let his love and mercy pour into their souls. As I sat in the back of the Cathedral hearing confessions, in the brief moments in between a steady line of penitents, I looked out through the church. I could feel the intensity of the pain that people brought with them. I could hear the united voices singing praise to our “good, good Father;” crying out, “Lord, I need you, every hour I need you.” The prayer of that community, even in the moments of silence, was palpable – you could sense it in the room, with all of our eyes directed toward the altar, where we found Jesus, the bread of life, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. And all of a sudden, I knew that we would be ok. I knew that there is no darkness that cannot be broken by the light of Christ. I knew that there is no wound that cannot be healed by the blood of Christ. I knew that our fragile community, broken and tempest-tossed, would find its way if we all keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. And I saw before me that night a core group of faithful, humble, prayerful, fervent and young servants of God who would rise up as a new generation of saints to set the world on fire.

That night changed me. And even in the weeks since that night, as we continue to witness the violence and hatred and divisions that plague our world, even to yesterday’s deadly shooting at the synagogue in Pittsburgh, I remember that night, and so many others since. Jesus continues to remind me that he is in charge and that he does not abandon his people. And he gave me eyes to see.

“Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.”

We have been blind, but with Jesus we can see. We have been afraid, but with Jesus we take courage. We have been lame, immobilized, but with Jesus we can walk. We have been mute, but with Jesus we can speak.

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him.

The blind man replied to him, “Master, I want to see.”

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Homily – 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Rev. Eric M. Augenstein
Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (B) – September 1/2, 2018
St. Agnes Catholic Church
Deuteronomy 4.1-2, 6-8; Psalm 15; James 1.17-18, 21b-22, 27; Mark 7.1-8, 14-15, 21-23

If you do a Google search for “Catholic Church,” the results can be interesting. Insightful, even. On the images tab, searching for “Catholic Church” brings up page after page of variations of two types of pictures: church buildings, or bishops. Apparently, that’s what the Google algorithm thinks best visually represents the Catholic Church – buildings or bishops. Curious. On the news tab of Google, the headlines, of course, are ever-changing. This morning, the top results were headlines like: “The civil war in the Catholic Church,” and “Gut the Catholic Church’s hierarchy,” and “Commentary: How to save the Catholic Church,” and “It’s time the Catholic Church started cleaning its house.” Such is the state of the Church in these days. But on the main Google search page, there’s something interesting that showed up – at least in my search of the “Catholic Church.” After a few links to the headline news articles, Twitter feeds, and YouTube videos, the next result was more local: a link to the website of this parish, St. Agnes Catholic Church in Nashville, Indiana. Of course, Google knew my location based on my computer’s IP address, and so it connected me to the nearest Catholic Church, the local parish. There’s always something local about our faith, about the Church – it’s not just the Vatican and the bishops, although that’s part of it; it’s not just the headlines and scandals across the world, although that is part of it, too. The Church is here – the Church is us. With a building to house our prayer and worship, yes. With a bishop in our region to shepherd us, yes. With our own brokenness and humanity and sins and failings, yes. And with our humble, open hearts, yearning for wholeness and truth and peace and love and compassion and community. Here, at St. Agnes Catholic Church in Nashville, Indiana, and at every local parish.

St. James gives all of us in the Catholic Church a good foundation in these days. “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” Talk about getting back to basics. So much else can and does get in our way, but St. James is right – the Gospel message of Jesus Christ can be summed up in these two points: to care for those in need – symbolized in the apostle’s day by widows and orphans – and to keep ourselves unstained by the world. To care for those whose poverty is spiritual as well as material – to walk alongside those who are hurting whether as victims of abuse or because of betrayal by those who have failed in their leadership – to speak for those who cannot speak for themselves – to cry out to heaven and earth for justice and mercy. And to rise above the baseness of worldly attachments – to keep our eyes fixed on heaven – to allow love to conquer fear, humility to root out pride, hope to shine in the darkness of doubt. “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to care for orphans and widows in their affliction and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” And we strive to do that, here at St. Agnes Catholic Church in Nashville, Indiana, and in many other local churches besides.

In the early fifth century, St. John Chrysostom preached a pointed homily whose words, I think, can echo profoundly for us today. He had observed some people in the Church who were concerned about buying golden ornaments for church buildings and weaving expensive cloths for the altars, but were neglecting the very real, material needs of the poor. “Tell me,” St. John Chrysostom said, “if you were to see [Christ] lacking the necessary food but were to leave him in that state and merely surround his table with gold, would he be grateful to you or rather would he not be angry? … Apply this also to Christ when he comes along the road as a pilgrim, looking for shelter,” St. John Chrysostom continues. “You do not take him in as your guest, but you decorate the floor and walls and the capitals of the pillars. You provide silver chains for the lamps, but you cannot bear even to look at him as he lies chained in prison. … I am not forbidding you to supply these adornments; I am urging you to provide these other things as well, and indeed to provide them first. … Do not, therefore, adorn the church and ignore your afflicted brother, for he is the most precious temple of all.”

We have work to do, my brothers and sisters – we, the Church, both the universal Catholic Church and our local churches. We have work to do – to refocus ourselves on the central task of the gospel, to care for orphans and widows and to live in the world but not of the world as we long for the world to come. We have work to do in loving one another and remembering that we need each other to teach us how to love as Christ loves us and to keep us accountable to the command of God. We have work to do in feeding the hungry and giving drink to the thirsty, in welcoming the stranger and visiting the sick and the imprisoned. We have work to do in listening to the Word of God, but then putting it into action. We have work to do in relying on the grace of the sacraments to sustain us in our frailty and to fill us with the strength needed to endure the trials of this present age. And we need each other to do this work.

If people are searching for the Catholic Church here, in Brown County, Indiana, or in any place, I hope this is what they find – a Church that cares for the widow and orphan and keeps itself unstained by the world, a Church that comes together to encounter Christ in Word and Sacrament, and also serves Christ in our afflicted brothers and sisters – a humble Church, a listening Church, an active Church, a living Church. Let’s get to work.

Bishop Simon Brute in Rennes

We didn’t expect to be eating dinner in the residence of the Eudist religious community last night. But so it was. Sitting around the table were the pastor of St. Germain Church in Rennes, the home parish of Bishop Simon Brute, the first Bishop of the Diocese of Vincennes, where he was baptized and made his first communion. At this same parish, the second bishop of the Diocese of Vincennes, Bishop Celestine de la Hailandiere, served for almost 10 years as a young priest before being sent to the United States as a missionary. Also around the dinner table was the chaplain for the school where St. Theodora Guerin had taught for 8 years in Rennes before she came to the United States as a missionary; he also serves as the pastor of the parish that through the centuries has been both the Cathedral of the Diocese of Rennes and the home to a large Benedictine Monastery. Another French priest from the Eudist religious community in Rennes was at the dinner table, plus an American seminarian from California who is spending a few weeks in Rennes as part of his formation for the Eudists, a congregation founded by St. John Eudes that had its first foundation in the United States when they were invited to staff a seminary in Vincennes, Indiana. And rounding out the dinner table were the three of us priests from the Archdiocese of Indianapolis, who had come on pilgrimage to explore the French Catholic roots of Indiana.

For much of the last 250 years, such a gathering of priests and seminarians would be unthinkable. The Church of St. Germain in Rennes had been closed during the French Revolution, like all other churches in France, and had been turned into a munitions warehouse. The Eudists pretty much died out in the French Revolution, being refounded in the 1820s by a priest who hid in Rennes in a building from which he could see the blood that flowed from the guillotine to the river. Bishop Brute himself had witnessed the trials of countless priests during the Revolution as they were led to their deaths. The Brute family lives in apartments in the Brittany Parliament building in Rennes. Directly above their apartment was a chapel that during the Revolution was turned into a courtroom for the trials of priests and other victims of the Reign of Terror. Priests hid in the Brute family apartment during the Reign of Terror. And during her years in Rennes, Mother Theodore Guerin could never have imagined that her religious community would found schools and produce teachers who educated each of the three Indiana priests who had come to Rennes on pilgrimage.

Brute family apartment in the Brittany Parliament (lower left window), and chapel (upper left window).

This remarkable dinner was the culmination of a day that saw us visit the Brittany Parliament building and see the old chapel where a young Simon Brute sat to watch trials of priests during the Reign of Terror. The room is now a deliberation room for the local court of appeals. We spent time in prayer at the Church of St. Germain early in the day and then later returned to join the parish community for their evening Mass for the Vigil of the Epiphany, which we were invited to concelebrate. And thanks to directions from the chaplain of the school, we were able to see the school building where St. Theodora taught during her years in Rennes – it is still used as a school and student residence today.

Before Mass, Fr. Hubert, the pastor of Bishop Brute’s home parish, opened a drawer in the sacristy to show us the chasuble and miter that belonged to the saintly son of the parish who went on to become the first Bishop of Vincennes. Fr. Hubert wore the chasuble for Christmas Masses this year, and the miter was recently worn by the Bishop of Mosul, Iraq, on a visit to Rennes.

Bishop Simon Brute’s Miter, from his home parish of St. Germain, Rennes, France.

When we mentioned something about Mother Theodore Guerin being our Saint – our only Hoosier Saint – Fr. Nicolas, who is chaplain at the school she taught at in the 1820s, was insistent that she is their Saint – a French Saint – just as much as a Hoosier one.

And the more we hear about St. John Eudes and his spirituality – centered on devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and the Incarnation – we realize that each of the people and communities who are part of the origins of the Catholic Church in Indiana were formed by this spirituality – whether Bishop Brute himself or the Sisters of Providence or the Congregation of Holy Cross or even the Little Sisters of the Poor.

Our Hoosier Catholic heritage is rich here in northwestern France. And the memory of the holy men and women who came of age in the French Revolution, persevered in the expression of their faith, and were sent as missionaries to the United States remains strong in their homeland. We have been blessed on this pilgrimage to not only walk in the footsteps of our forebears in faith but to meet their spiritual children who continue their legacy in their native land.

Le Mans, Day 2

Le Mans, France, is a must-visit town. Not only is there rich history for Catholics – especially those from the state of Indiana or who are associated with the Congregation of Holy Cross or the Sisters of Providence – but for anyone interested in history, faith, culture, art, or who just enjoys wandering old, narrow lanes. I had never really heard much about Le Mans before preparing for this pilgrimage, but now I can’t wait to come back – perhaps in warmer weather! – to spend more time in this beautiful city. Here are a few highlights from today …

We began the day by celebrating Mass at the tomb of Blessed Basil Moreau, founder of the Congregation of Holy Cross. From there, we visited the local market to get some fresh croissants and pastries to accompany our coffee and tea in a local cafe. We then visited the Le Mans’ Cathedral of St. Julien, which houses the oldest stained glass window in Europe in its original location (see below) and – among other things – the tomb of Bishop Jean-Baptiste Bouvier who was a spiritual father to both Blessed Moreau and St. Theodora Guerin.

Following our visit to the Cathedral, we wandered through the quaint, picturesque narrow lanes of Old Town Le Mans, past 1000 year old buildings, including the house where King Henry II of England was born. Some might see a vision of Hogsmeade from Harry Potter in the look of this Old Town. Or just what we imagine medieval French towns to look like. It’s really all there. Two other churches were on our path – the Visitation Church where Blessed Moreau was ordained a priest and the Church of Notre Dame de la Couture, an 11th-century Romanesque church built over the tomb of St. Bertrand and featuring the oldest statue of Jesus in France. So. Much. History. And art. And faith. And culture. And life.

After bidding farewell to our host, Fr. John, CSC, we made the journey to our next stop – Rennes – where we will be for the next few days. After settling into our residence on the outskirts of Rennes, we journeyed out for a wonderful French dinner – appetizers included foie gras, an egg parfait, and fresh oysters. Tomorrow, our plan is to drive up to the coast of Brittany to visit the birthplace of St. Theodora Guerin in Etables-sur-Mer. Please continue to pray for us on our pilgrim journey, and know that we are praying for you!

Le Mans and Environs

Le Mans is an ancient town. After the local Celtic tribe was conquered by Julius Caesar, it became a Roman stronghold. Later invasions by Normans and Vikings continually caused the city to change hands. King Henry II of England – the founder of the royal House of Plantagenet – was born here. It was one of the last cities to be liberated by American troops during World War II. Today, about 150,000 people call it home, including a significant college population. And the city and its immediate environs are the home of two religious congregations which have formed a significant part of the Catholic history and faith in far-away Indiana – the Congregation of Holy Cross and the Sisters of Providence. Today, we explored the roots of these two communities.

Fr. John De Riso, CSC, is the Rector of the Shrine of Blessed Basil Moreau and Pastor of the mother-church of the Congregation of Holy Cross. Fr. John has been hosting us during our stay in Le Mans, and today he gave us a detailed tour of the shrine and church and explained the history of the foundation of the community. Blessed Moreau was a priest of the Diocese of Le Mans who brought together a community of priests to serve in the Holy Cross neighborhood of Le Mans. They were formed in 1835 and later joined with a group of religious brothers who had been founded by another local priest, Fr. Jacques Dujarie, to become the Congregation of Holy Cross. Leter, a community of religious sisters was also formed as part of the Holy Cross family. In Indiana, we best know this community because of the work of an early collaborator of Blessed Moreau, Fr. Edward Sorin, who was sent to the United States in 1841 and went on to found the University of Notre Dame. In addition to the University, the three branches of the Holy Cross family – the priests, brothers, and sisters – have all had a significant presence in Indiana. My high school alma mater, Cathedral High School in Indianapolis, was staffed for many years by the Holy Cross Brothers and in recent years has reaffiliated with Holy Cross.

Tomb of Blessed Basil Moreau.

As part of our tour, we were able to pray at the tomb of Blessed Moreau and also visit the original Holy Cross novitiate, which now houses a community of Holy Cross Marianist Sisters and a small museum about the founder.

This afternoon, we met up with Sister Martine Meuwissen, SP, the Superior General of the Sisters of Providence of Ruille-sur-Loire. In an interesting confluence of history, the Sisters of Providence were founded by Fr. Jacques Dujarie – the same priest who had founded the community of brothers that later joined Blessed Moreau’s priests to become the Congregation of Holy Cross. Fr. Dujarie was the parish priest in Ruille-sur-Loire, a small village about an hour’s drive from Le Mans. He saw a need to engage in ministry to the many poor and elderly people in this rural area in the years following the French Revolution, so he brought together a group of women to do this work in 1806. This group became the Sisters of Providence. Thirty-four years later, in 1840 (just a year before Fr. Sorin made his journey), a group of Sisters of Providence was sent to Indiana to open an academy. The group was led by Sister St. Theodore Guerin, who established the community at St. Mary-of-the-Woods in Indiana.

Little Providence, Ruille-sur-Loire (note the chapel in the background where St. Theodora Guerin prayed).

Sister Martine took us to the original home of the congregation – called Little Providence – with a small chapel where Mother Theodore prayed. We then visited the Motherhouse of the Sisters of Providence, from which Mother Theodore was sent to Indiana, and the parish church in the village where she made her solemn vows. The chapel of the Motherhouse also holds the tomb of Fr. Dujarie and some extraordinary stained glass windows – some of the most beautiful and vibrant that any of us have ever seen, rivaling (in our minds) even the famed windows of Chartres Cathedral! The Sisters of Providence were gracious hosts, and we truly feel that we understand Mother Theodore – our Hoosier Saint – better now by visiting her French spiritual home.

This evening, we joined Fr. John for Mass with some local college students – he assists with the university’s campus ministry program – followed by a lovely dinner and games with the college community. Among the students I spoke with is a young man who is a Melkite Christian from Aleppo, Syria, who has been forced to move to France because of the great violence in his home country. Perhaps more on his story another time.

It has truly been a remarkable day for the three of us – each of whom have personal connections to both the Congregation of Holy Cross and the Sisters of Providence. Later, I hope to reflect more on what we can learn from these visits about our understanding of the Church in Indiana beyond the mere historical connections. But, for now, it’s time for rest before an early morning Mass at the tomb of Blessed Basil Moreau.

 

French Catholic Roots of Indiana

A fleur-de-lis – symbol of France – appears prominently on the crest of the Archdiocese of Indianapolis. The first four bishops of the Diocese of Vincennes (now the Archdiocese of Indaianpolis) were born in France. Two of the major religious and educational institutions in Indiana – the University of Notre Dame and St. Mary-of-the-Woods College – were founded by religious orders that were founded in France. The only canonized Saint who lived and ministered in Indiana – St. Theodora Guerin – was born and raised in France. The first Catholics in the state of Indiana were French. Only later came Germans and Irish and Italians and so many others. The heritage of the Catholic Church in Indiana is primarily French.

And even more remarkably, the three most prominent Catholic pioneers of Indiana were not only all French – but they were all from a small region of northwestern France, and all were formed in the years during and immediately following the French Revolution. Bishop Simon Brute, first Bishop of Vincennes, was from Rennes in Brittany. St. Theodora Guerin, foundress of the Sisters of Providence of St. Mary-of-the-Woods, was born in Etables-sur-Mer, just 70 miles north of Rennes in Brittany, and she spent several years teaching and the superior of a school in Rennes, Bishop Brute’s hometown. About a hundred miles east of Rennes is Le Mans, where Blessed Basil Moreau founded the Congregation of Holy Cross and sent a group of priests and brothers, included Fr. Edward Sorin, who had been born half-way between Rennes and Le Mans, to Indiana, where they founded the University of Notre Dame. And all of this happened in more-or-less a fifty year period after the French Revolution, from 1800-1850.

Map of the Diocese of Vincennes drawn by Bishop Simon Brute.

This Sunday, I depart with two other priests from the Archdiocese of Indianapolis to explore our French Catholic roots. We plan to visit Rennes, Le Mans, Etables-sur-Mer, and other places in between where these faithful and courageous men and women were formed in the faith and were sent forth to evangelize in the wilds of Indiana, laying the foundation for the Catholic Church in this state, which we are now called to serve. We are particularly interested in seeing what we can discover about this particular small corner of France in that particular generation after the French Revolution that raised up such a strong missionary spirit and ardent faith. And we hope that what we learn about our roots can inform our own ministry in the Archdiocese of Indianapolis today, so that the seeds planted by Bishop Brute, Mother Theodore Guerin, the Congregation of Holy Cross, and so many others, will continue to bear fruit.

I ask your prayers for safe journeys and insightful explorations. And watch this blog for updates along the way.

O Clavis David: Opening and Closing Doors

Even if the Holy Door closes, the true door of mercy which is the heart of Christ always remains open wide for us.

After closing the Holy Door of St. Peter’s Basilica to conclude the Jubilee Year of Mercy, Pope Francis this morning immediately processed out of the Basilica into St. Peter’s Square to begin the celebration of the Eucharist. This progression was natural and an important reminder because, as he said in his homily at Mass, mercy is not dependent on a door into a church building – it is a door that is always open because Jesus Christ, the Key of David (Clavis David) always invites us into his heart, which is mercy.

Anticipating the beginning of the Season of Advent next weekend, the chant during the closing of the Holy Door was one of the so-called O Antiphons – “O Key of David and scepter of the house of Israel; you open and no one closes, you close and no one opens: Come, and lead forth from the house of bondage the captive sitting in darkness and the shadow of death.” Singing that antiphon would prove to be prophetic for a few of us later in the day.

This afternoon, four of us decided to walk around the walls of Vatican City to visit Cardinal Joseph Tobin’s titular church – Santa Maria della Grazie al Trionfale. Since Cardinals are considered part of the clergy of Rome, each one is given a Roman church for which he serves as something of an honorary pastor and patron. Cardinal Tobin’s titular church is an active parish community – eight Masses are celebrated there every Sunday and five on weekdays – in a typical Roman neighborhood just a stone’s throw from the walls of Vatican City, yet seemingly worlds away from the traditional historic and tourist areas of the city. It’s really a lovely church – fairly new for Rome, built in 1941 after Mussolini bulldozed the previous church to make way for a triumphal plaza. Simple in design and ornamentation, it has some beautiful frescoes along the side walls and a historic icon of Our Lady of Grace – Santa Maria della Grazie.

And we got locked inside. “O Key of David … you open and no one closes, you close and no one opens.”

When we arrived at the church, the main doors were locked, but a side door that appeared to go to the church offices was open – so we went in and found ourselves in a hallway with a door into the church, which was also open. We spent time in the church praying for Cardinal Tobin and the local community, took a look around, picked up a few copies of today’s bulletin, which features a letter from their new Cardinal patron, and went to leave the same way we came – only to find the door to the outside locked. Italian doors are not like American doors – they don’t have crash bars or knobs that allow you to exit even if they are locked. When a door is locked, you need a key to get through from either direction. And we were locked inside.

Now, being locked in a church – especially Cardinal Tobin’s titular church – is not a horrible thing, at least for a little while. But after trying all of the other doors, we found a phone number to call the parish – and one of the priests answered. One of the guys in our group speaks a little Italian and tried to explain to Father Antonio, the local priest, what had happened. Father Antonio came down fairly quickly and welcomed us – he said that he doesn’t know how we got inside since all the doors were locked – it must have been a miracle! He showed us around the church some more and then produced a big set of keys to unlock the door so we could leave. It was a wonderful encounter and memorable experience – so we can now say that we were once locked inside the a church in Rome that happens to be the titular church of a Cardinal who had been Archbishop of Indianapolis!

Tonight, we will join Cardinal Tobin and many family, friends, and pilgrims for a Mass of Thanksgiving at the Church of St. Alphonsus, the mother-church of the Redemptorists and home to the original icon of Our Lady of Perpetual Help. As we do so, there is indeed much to be thankful to God for, especially the humble and faithful man who has become a Cardinal of Holy Roman Church.

Joseph Cardinal Tobin, CSsR

What a great day it has been for the Church in Rome! This morning, I was among the many people privileged to witness Pope Francis create 17 new Cardinals, including Joseph Cardinal Tobin, CSsR, who has served as Archbishop of Indianapolis for the past four years. There was great joy to be able to be in St. Peter’s Basilica for the Consistory, especially to share it both with friends and colleagues from the Archdiocese of Indianapolis and pilgrims and guests from around the world – including an exuberant contingent from Africa, home continent of two of the new Cardinals. Being a Cardinal means that a bishop’s service extends beyond his diocese or Vatican office to the universal Church – in advising the Holy Father and voting in future papal conclaves. To be in the midst of such a visible representation of the universal Church is one of the most memorable parts of days like today.

During the Consistory, each of the new Cardinals received a red biretta – signifying his willingness to preserve and protect the faith even to the point of shedding blood; a ring – a visible link to the one who placed the ring on his finger, the Holy Father; and a church in Rome that he is something of an honorary pastor or patron of. Cardinal Tobin has been assigned the titular Cardinal of the Church of Santa Maria della Grazie al Trionfale. I’ve never been to this church – it’s a newer parish church located just outside the walls of Vatican City, near the entrance to the Vatican Museums. In English, the title of the church would be Our Lady of Grace – a beautiful connection to the Benedictine Sisters who monastery in Indianapolis also bears that name. I hope to visit this church in the coming days while here in Rome.

Following the Consistory, a reception was held at the Pontifical North American College for the three new Cardinals from the United States, and now many in our group are resting for a bit before heading out to a celebratory dinner with Cardinal Tobin this evening.

Know that all of us here in Rome have been keeping in our prayers and hearts the people of the Archdiocese of Indianapolis, as well as other family and friends – those who are following the events in Rome from afar can be assured of their presence in spirit these days.

FAQs on the College of Cardinals

A week ago, I awoke to news that my Archbishop had been named to the College of Cardinals by Pope Francis. It has been a very exciting week in the Archdiocese of Indianapolis as we have celebrated the confidence that our Holy Father has placed in Cardinal-designate Joseph Tobin, C.Ss.R. Along the way, there have been many questions – because this is the first time that a sitting Archbishop of Indianapolis has been named a Cardinal! So I have gathered some of the many questions that I have heard over the past week here in this post. If you have other questions that I have not addressed here, feel free to ask them in the comments.

Coat of Arms of Cardinal-designate Joseph W. Tobin, C.Ss.R.

Why are they called Cardinals?

Traditionally, the word cardinal has been translated in English as hinge. The College of Cardinals acts as something of a hinge connecting the Pope – the Bishop of Rome – with the rest of the world. There is also a connection to other uses of the word cardinal, at least in English. The members of the College of Cardinals come from all corners of the world – like the cardinal directions (north, south, east, and west), they symbolically link Rome to the entire world. And like the cardinal virtues (prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude), the hinges on which the moral life rests, the College of Cardinals call us from the four corners of the world to turn towards the foundation of our faith, Jesus Christ.

Why do Cardinals wear red?

The official color that Cardinals wear is scarlet, a bright and recognizable shade of red. When new cardinals are given their scarlet biretta (a square hat with three horns on the top), they are reminded that the color scarlet signifies “your readiness to act with courage, even to the shedding of your blood, for the increase of the Christian faith, for the peace and tranquility of the people of God and for the freedom and growth of Holy Roman Church.”

How does the Pope select Cardinals?

The selection of new members of the College of Cardinals is left solely to the current Pope. Traditionally, he has chosen Cardinals from two groups: 1) the heads of the major offices of the Vatican; and 2) diocesan bishops from around the world. Over the last 100 years, as the Church has grown more and more throughout the world, popes have made a concerted effort to name Cardinals from all parts of the world. Often, this was done by identifying the largest and most influential cities in various countries and naming the Archbishops of those cities to be Cardinals (in the United States, that has traditionally meant that there have been Cardinals as Archbishops in places like New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, DC, Chicago, Los Angeles, Houston, etc.). Pope Francis, however, has named Cardinals from smaller cities and countries around the world as part of his mission to reach out to those on the peripheries -in 2015, he named a bishop from Tonga (a series of islands in the Pacific Ocean with only 15,000 Catholic) as a cardinal, and the newest group of Cardinals includes bishops from Bangladesh, Mauritius, and the Central African Republic. And, of course, Indianapolis. The Holy Father also selects Cardinals based on the individual person – those he thinks would be the best possible advisors, who would be able to be a voice for various groups and cultures within the Church, and who have the right gifts and perspective to vote in a potential conclave to elect a new pope. Bishops named to particular cities or offices do not automatically become Cardinals.

Do you have to be a bishop to be a Cardinal?

Yes – or at least able to be ordained a bishop. Technically, any priest – or even a layman who is free to be ordained a priest – can be named a Cardinal. But before being able to be elevated to the College of Cardinals, anyone who is not already a bishop would need to be ordained a bishop. In reality, virtually all Cardinals named these days is already a bishop.

What are the responsibilities of the College of Cardinals?

Cardinals have one primary responsibility and one secondary responsibility. Their primary responsibility is to elect a new pope following the death or resignation of a pope. Their secondary responsibility is to serve as a body of advisors for the pope – and each pope can determine how and to what extent he uses the College of Cardinals as advisors. Pope Francis has regularly called all the members of the College of Cardinals to Rome to have dialogue and advise him on significant issues facing the Church and the world. Outside of these two responsibilities, the Holy Father often appoints Cardinals as members of Vatican committees and sometimes designates them to serve as his official representative for an event or initiative that he cannot personally be present for.

Is being a Cardinal a full-time position, or is it addition to another role?

Being a Cardinal is not a full-time position in and of itself – it is an additional responsibility given most often to bishops who are either heads of offices at the Vatican or diocesan bishops around the world. Those named to the College of Cardinals continue the responsibilities that they held prior to their elevation.

How many Cardinals are there?

After the upcoming consistory, there will be 228 Cardinals. However, only 121 are under the age of 80 and thus eligible to vote in a potential papal conclave. Church law sets the limit of Cardinal Electors – those under the age of 80 – at 120, although the Holy Father, as the supreme legislator of the Church, can change that number if he so desires. Often, new cardinals are named in order to bring the voting number back up to around 120 after several have passed the age of 80.

What is the ceremony like for creating Cardinals?

The ceremony for elevating bishops to the College of Cardinals is called a Consistory – which is also the name given to any meeting of the College of Cardinals. During a Consistory to create new cardinals, those who have been selected are called forth by the Holy Father, they make a profession of faith, and the Holy Father gives each of them a scarlet biretta and a ring as symbols of their new office. It is not an ordination – those to be created cardinals are already bishops – and it is not a Mass, but rather a ceremony held in the context of a Liturgy of the Word. The following day, the entire College of Cardinals concelebrates at a Mass with the Holy Father. The Consistory for creating the cardinals nominated last week will be held on November 19, 2016, in St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican.

What is the proper form of address for a Cardinal?

In formal correspondence and conversation, cardinals are referred to as Your Eminence. After being elevated to the College of Cardinals, the proper way of referring to a cardinal by name is to place the title Cardinal in between their first and last names. This form of address comes from the tradition in the early Church of referring to people by the name of their town or church, since last names were not common. So, for example, a Cardinal named Matthew who was assigned to the church of St. Paul would be referred to as Matthew Cardinal of St. Paul. Now, when last names are common, the practice continues of putting the title Cardinal immediately after the first name. So, after November 19, we in Indianapolis will refer to Joseph Cardinal Tobin. Or, most formally … His Eminence, Joseph Cardinal Tobin, Archbishop of Indianapolis. Or, informally … Cardinal Tobin.

Why are Cardinals given a titular church in Rome? What responsibilities do they have for this church?

The earliest Cardinals were priests of Rome who were given the responsibility of electing the Bishop of Rome – the Pope. As the Church grew and expanded, it became clear that the College of Cardinals needed to be more representative of the entire Church, not just the churches in Rome, but there always remained a sense that the College of Cardinals have a strong connection to Rome. In the oath of obedience to the Holy Father that new Cardinals make at their elevation, they acknowledge that they now “become members of the Roman clergy.” So the practice arose of assigning each Cardinal to a particular church in the city of Rome – their titular church – of which they are something of a symbolic pastor. This practice goes back at least to the year 499, when 25 Cardinal titular churches were identified in Rome. The Cardinals are not involved in the daily administration or sacramental duties of their titular church, but when in Rome, that is often where they will celebrate Mass, and they often also provide for financial support to maintain their titular churches. We don’t yet know what Cardinal-designate Tobin’s titular church will be – it will be announced at the Consistory on November 19.

Has there ever been a Cardinal in Indianapolis?

There has never been a residential Cardinal in Indianapolis. To put it another way, no one has been named a Cardinal while serving as Archbishop of Indianapolis. However, there was one former Archbishop of Indianapolis who became a Cardinal – Joseph Cardinal Ritter – but he was only elevated to the College of Cardinals after he had been named and served for several years as Archbishop of St. Louis.

What will people in the Archdiocese of Indianapolis notice that will be different now that they have a Cardinal as Archbishop?

Cardinal-designate Tobin remains the Archbishop of Indianapolis – and in terms of his leadership and shepherding of the Church in central and southern Indiana, not much will change. The most visible change will be that he will now wear a scarlet zucchetto (skull-cap) and a scarlet cassock, rather than the fuchsia worn by bishops. His coat of arms has also changed to reflect his new title (see the top of this post). He will also have to travel to Rome more frequently for meetings of the College of Cardinals and other commissions to which he will be assigned. And if there is a papal conclave any time in the next 16 years (before he turns 80), then-Cardinal Tobin will participate as a voting member. It would probably be safe to say that Cardinal-designate Tobin will have a busier schedule moving forward – although it was busy to begin with – and that we in the Archdiocese of Indianapolis will have to share him more with the larger Church. But he is still our Archbishop, and outside of Papal Conclaves and meetings of the College of Cardinals, being our Archbishop is his primary task and ministry.

On the Pilgrim Journey to Krakow

As I lay awake during our first night sleeping on a hard, marble classroom floor in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, in July 2013, I thought to myself: “I’m never doing this again.” A couple nights later, my thoughts changed to: “I’d do this again if we can stay in a hotel.” By the end of that week, my mind was made up: “If I ever get a chance, I’m definitely doing this again.” This happens again next week – the Catholic Church’s World Youth Day, an international gathering of young people with the Holy Father for prayer, catechesis, and fellowship.

Krakow Main Square

Rio was my first experience of World Youth Day, and it came with many challenges and sacrifices – not just the marble classroom floor that we slept on for a week or the cold showers in toilet stalls, but also the vast crowds and limited services, the disorganization and lack of good communication that are probably inevitable when you gather 3.5 million people in one place.

But then there were all the extraordinary graces and moments of encounter with God and fellow seekers. The powerful silence of 3.5 million people in prayer during Eucharistic Adoration. The solidarity of joining with and meeting young disciples of Jesus Christ from all over the world. The joy of life shared by so many young people. The community of faith that is formed and sustained by Word and Sacrament. The challenge to once more take up our mission to spread the good news in a world of brokenness and chaos. The exuberant hospitality of the Brazilian people, certainly some of the most kind-hearted people I have encountered.

One of our pilgrims from the Archdiocese of Indianapolis called it a “beautiful disaster.” And here we are, headed there again – to World Youth Day, that is, but in a different locale. This time, the young Church will gather in Krakow, Poland, City of Saints – St. John Paul II, St. Maximilian Kolbe, St. Faustina Kowalska, St. Stanislas, St. John Cantius, St. Hedwig, and so many more. This time, the pilgrimage group from the Archdiocese of Indianapolis is more than 170 strong – much larger than the 35 people we had with us in Rio. And as much as these days make me reflect back on my last World Youth Day, I also know that each experience stands on its own. Krakow is not Rio. 2016 is not 2013. But Jesus is the same, and people from all over the world are journeying to Krakow to encounter him in the Sacraments, in the Word, and in the Church gathered together in a way that is unparalleled at any other events.

One of the groups from the Archdiocese of Indianapolis is leaving today, with a stop in Rome first before heading to Krakow. The group I am traveling with leaves on Friday with a stop in Prague and then Wadowice, Poland, the home town of St. John Paul II. Pray for safe travels, and I hope to post updates as I can throughout the pilgrimage!