Matching Tracksuits

Among the elements that sets Catholicism apart from almost all other Christian denominations is the notion of the sacred embodied in the physical. There are a host of sacred objects in Catholicism, while Protestantism considers almost nothing on Earth sacred. Only God is sacred, say Protestants, and that was indeed one of the myriad motivations for the separation of the Protestant denominations from the Catholic church.

Having grown up in a Protestant group (though it would have never called itself "Protestant," it was: if it's not Eastern/Greek/Coptic/etc. Orthodox or Catholic, it's Protestant), the notion of a sacred object was completely foreign to me. It smacked of superstition, of primitive belief that bordered on idolatry.

Websters.com defines sacred as follows:

1. dedicated or set apart for the service or worship of a deity
2. a : worthy of religious veneration : holy
   b : entitled to reverence and respect
3. of or relating to religion : not secular or profane

I grew up, I suppose, with only the second definition; the first definition is more Catholic, though.

In Catholicism, one can't help but be overwhelmed by the number of sacred objects. At the top of the list is the consecrated host, but there are numerous others: the Bible is sacred, especially the Gospels. One will notice this immediately in the how the priest handles the volume of Gospels the priest uses in the Mass reading. Yet it's not limited to the Bible and host: the church itself, the crucifix, the vessels used in Mass, the altar itself, rosaries, statues, and icons are all in their own right sacred.

This is where the Protestant accusation of idolatry arises, especially with the use of icons and statuary. It seems to be a direct violation of the commandments.  Yet Catholics aren't worshiping these objects (except for the consecrated host -- but that's an entirely different theological knot) and in fact condemns such as idolatry.

What I like about sacred objects is they force one out of normal routines and require a reverent thoughtfulness. In a culture in which only radical individualism seems to be sacred, such thoughtful moments are welcome.

 Catholicism has silence built into it. Silence in Catholicism is everywhere. Walk into any medieval church in Europe and the silence is almost audible. It's as if the walls and icons of the churches produce their own silence, a counterbalance to everything going on outside its walls.

The traditional Tridentine Mass has moments of silence, and that silence even made it into the Novo Ordo Mass: the priest holds the consecrated host up and is silent; he lifts the chalice of consecrated wine and is silent.

A chapel dedicated to the adoration of the Sacrament is silent.

Monks and nuns take vows of silence.

The Catholic Encyclopedia writes of three spiritual principles behind silence:

1. As an aid to the practice of good, for we keep silence with man, in order the better to speak with God, because an unguarded tongue dissipates the soul, rendering the mind almost, if not quite, incapable of prayer. The mere abstaining from speech, without this purpose, would be that "idle silence" which St. Ambrose so strongly condemns.
2. As a preventative of evil. Senica, quoted by Thomas a Kempis complains that "As often as I have been amongst men, I have returned less a man" (Imitation, Book I, c. 20).
3. The practice of silence involves much self-denial and restraint, and is therefore a wholesome penance, and as such is needed by all.

Silence is indeed "needed by all," particularly in today's techno-world. It's one of the great mysteries to me why so many people like the dazzle of multi-media mega-churches: these churches incorporate technology as liturgical baggage; it seems the church is to be a place of worship and contemplation that shuts out the world.

In most Protestant churches, it's always the center of attention. Front and center, the pulpit is the center of all eyes, all ears. In mega-churches, the stage has replaced the pulpit, but on the stage, there is a lectern of some sort, making it clear the high point of the service is the pastor's sermon.

Protestants sometimes suggest that Christ is not the center of the Catholic Church, but it's hard for them to make such an argument when the pastor is the center of theirs. The sermon is the center of the church service, and so the pastor's personality, wit, or erudition is what ultimately brings congregants to this or that church. In mega-churches, it's often a combination of the show and the sermon.

In a Catholic church, the pulpit is always to the side. The priest's homily is not the reason people are in attendance, and as such, the pulpit is tastefully moved to one side.