Sunday, April 04, 2021
Saturday, March 27, 2021
In my professional life I have been spending the last week lecturing on design elements of traditional Christian architecture, specifically looking at churches from around 400-1300. I've guided my students through the identification of the design elements of the late Roman, pre-Romanesque, Romanesque/late Romanesque and Gothic styles. It's always refreshing to devote time to studying the great monuments of the Christian faith and see how the beauty our religion has inspired the hearts of people over the ages.
Beauty is attractive, and that's really all there is to it.
Saturday, February 27, 2021
Last week I received an inquiry from a young man of Protestant background who is contemplating the claims of the Catholic Church. He had been listening to the Fr. Mike Schmitz through the Bible, in the course of which he encountered a difficulty understanding the figures of speech used in the Scriptures. This gentleman posed a question about consistent interpretation, using an example from Genesis 10:9-10. He wrote:
Way back in the beginning there was Nimrod, who was "a mighty hunter before God". It is explained [in the podcast] that "before God" is thought to mean "in opposition to God", which is kinda counterintuitive. Maybe five podcasts later, after blessing Abraham, God says to him "go before me". I doubt He is telling Abraham to oppose Him; he's actually telling him to be faithful to God. Why is "before God" in Genesis 10 taken to mean "in opposition to God" while the same concept in Genesis 17 taken to mean "be faithful to God"? One of the problems I have with modern religion is accuracy after multiple translations. Do you see now why I have reservations?
Here we have a classic problem of two similar biblical phrases being taken to mean different things. Such situations can raise questions about the integrity of a translation in particular, or the very plausibility of written divine revelation in general. Let's dig in to this question.
This really isn't problem with the accuracy of biblical translation; it's just how language is. Words have lots of meanings that require context to sort out. Heck, the English word "set" has 432 different meanings. The Bible, being written by men and utilizing regular human speech, requires the same sort of contextual approach to understand. The fact that various phrases mean different things in different contexts is what we would expect any time human language is being used normally.
In the verses cited, Nimrod's life "before the Lord" or "in the face of the Lord" is taken to mean he was brazenly bold in his opposition to God. The context is derived not from the text directly, but from a longstanding Jewish interpretive tradition, going back to the Midrash, Philo, Pseudo-Philo, the Book of Jubilees, Josephus, etc. who all assert Nimrod was a villain. It's not necessarily discernible from the text, but it is a reasonable interpretation of the it. The pre-Christian tradition is unanimous that Nimrod is a villain, and thus we read the phrase ḡibbōr-ṣayiḏ lip̄nê Yahweh to mean "in affront to the Lord" or "in opposition to the Lord." The Vulgate, too, followed this tradition, calling Nimrod robustus, that is, stout, bold, or haughty. The fact this young man finds such an interpretation "counterintuitive" in its English rendering is neither here nor there. Rather, it's an example of why you need tradition to help you interpret Scripture.
Context is also key in Genesis 17, the passage the interlocutor referenced about Abraham walking before the Lord. Abraham is unanimously portrayed as a faithful man and hero of faith in both Testaments and in Jewish and Christian tradition. Therefore the the phrase "before the Lord" with reference to Abraham gets a more benign reading, which makes perfect sense. The context, either textually or in terms of extra-textual of tradition, helps establish the meaning.
Incidentally, the Vulgate preserves this contextual approach perfectly. It translates "before the Lord" as in coram Domino, which means "in the presence of the Lord." In coram is a neat little phrase that means "in the presence of", "in the midst of", or "before", as in the sense of "to stand before." As with the English phrase "in the face of" and the Hebrew ḡibbōr-ṣayiḏ lip̄nê, in coram can denote intimacy as well as opposition. In ancient Rome, a man marrying a woman in the presence of the family is said to be marrying her cum manu in coram gente, whereas a man found guilty of a crime before an assembly was said to be condemned in coram populo. In the former case in coram denoted intimacy and fidelity, whereas in the latter it signified opposition and antagonism.
Ultimately, there's really no reason to have reservations about the meaning of these texts anymore than there would be to have reservations about the way any regular human being uses language. I have previously recommended The Book of Non-Contradiction: Harmonizing the Scriptures as a handy guide to sorting out a lot of these textual questions. Anyone interesting in learning more about reconciling biblical passages with each other should check it out.
Tuesday, February 09, 2021
Grace and peace to you all, friends. For awhile I have been working on the manuscript of a book that will be on the subject of sacral kingship in the Middle Ages—the idea that the king, by virtue of his coronation, has a kind of sacred or theocratic authority, held directly from God, which enables him to exercise a trusteeship over the Church within his realm. I am super close to finishing the text and am quite excited with how it's turning out.
I wanted to preview a section of one of the chapters here that I am very happy with. This chapter is on the ideology of the Investiture Controversy, but this sub-section deals with the theocratic pretensions of the Norman and Angevin kings specifically and their attempts to consolidate their power through turning the Church into an apparatus of the state.
Also, I do have the text thoroughly footnoted in the manuscript, but the formatting did not transfer well into blogger so I omitted them here. But you'll have to take my word on it that I did my research : )
The Normans & Angevins
The Investiture Controversy was not limited to Germany and Italy. Ideals of sacral kingship were particularly strong amongst the Norman lords, who worked tirelessly to centralize Church and State under their command within their realms. While constraints of space do not permit an entire chapter devoted to the lords of Normandy, we will touch on some of the more important episodes of the 11th and 12th centuries germane to our discussion.
[I]t is notorious that in ancient times before the coming of the Normans, the kings of England, even those now canonized, granted cathedral churches to archbishops and bishops entirely at their pleasure. Since the conquest, elections have been subject to the king’s assent and hitherto have been carried out strictly in this form.
Though the Angevins drew appealed to older theocratic models to justify their attempts to hold onto royal control over the Church, King John was unable to prevail in his dispute with Innocent III. Stephen Langton was eventually installed as Archbishop of Canterbury over John’s protests (1207). John refused to accept Langton, and his obstinacy earned him an excommunication in 1209. John feigned indifference, until war with France seemed to be looming and he needed the pope’s support. Innocent III agreed to lift the excommunication in exchange for John offering England as a fief to the pope. John did homage to Innocent III in 1213, handing over England as a papal fief. Two years later he was humiliated before his nobles at Runnymede, who forced him to sign the Magna Carta. A year after he was dead, and with him died theocratic kingship in England—at least for a few centuries.
If you think you might like this book and would be interested in purchasing a copy, please email me at email@example.com and I will make a note of it and email you when it is complete. I am anticipating the book to be ready for sale by April. Probably going to be close to 200 pages, hardcover. Pax.
Sunday, February 07, 2021
What this man does not realize is that it is not his great virtue that restrains him from gossiping—he merely has a personality that is not disposed to it. Because he is not disposed to it, there is no struggle for him in refraining from it. Because he experiences no struggle, he can't understand that other people do. Because he can't understand this, he can't empathize. Because he can't empathize, he judges the other for his sin. And his assessment of his own virtue is distorted.
But what of his own sin? He may not be disposed to gossip, but he is certainly disposed to other sins. Perhaps because he is withdrawn he is often lonely, and turns to pornography now and then in vain hopes of consoling his loneliness. This is a struggle for him. He is deeply embarrassed by it. He understands the temptation and the difficulty surrounding this sin. Because it's hard, he wants empathy—and he easily gives empathy to others struggling with pornography as well. He is much less likely to judge himself or others for this sin. He is much more likely to feel like, "Nobody's perfect. I know I've got my faults, but I'm trying." He is more lenient.
In general, we are most critical of those sins we are not naturally disposed to commit anyway, while we are most lenient towards those sins we ourselves struggle with. Our own experience tends to be the lens through which we apportion severity or leniency to a particular sin. We think we are being fair, we think we are being level-headed, but really we are just justifying ourselves.
Of course, certain sins are objectively worse than others. Murder is worse than cheating on an exam, and I would argue pornography is worse than gossiping. But how much virtue we exercise in overcoming a particular sin is very relative to our own strengths and weaknesses. A man who struggles with a porn habit and, through prayer and much effort, manages to go three weeks without relapse may have exercised more virtue in this regard than a man who is not easily disposed to temptations of the flesh and has never looked at porn in his life. The man who, through grace-filled effort, manages to restrain himself from gossiping throughout Lent has exercised more fortitude than the man who isn't disposed to gossip to begin with.
This is because virtue is not merely doing the right thing—it is doing the right thing habitually, because you have disciplined yourself to do so. A person who who has learned to be unperturbed through discipline has acquired the virtue of patience. A person who is naturally chill and unperturbed by things has considerably less patience, considered as a virtue.
Through the gift of wisdom, may we see with God's eyes and truly focus on removing the plank from our own eye.
Saturday, January 09, 2021
At 388 pages, it takes a bit of time to work through, but it's very much worth it. The brush strokes here are broad, yet targeted. The breadth of subjects covered is impressive in its universality, but it still finds time to dig down into specific concerns. Dr. Kwasniewski patiently addresses almost every objection to the usus antiquior with strength and clarity. Perhaps the line of thought here is so convincing because, as Dr. K himself explains, he has walked the long path from charismatic Catholic to "New Springtime" to Reform of the Reform to traditionalist. You can hear echoes of the author's own arduous developmental history as he patiently works through all the various facets of the subject, including very difficult personal issues people struggle with when contemplating going over exclusively to the TLM.
I also enjoyed this book because it avoids what I would call the overly canonical/legalistic arguments many Trads tend to wallow around in. With this book you're not going to get egg-headed bloviating about Quo Primum, theological parsing of the phrase pro multis, dense elucidations on the authority of the Second Vatican Council, or any of the other standard fare of the Trad diet. Dr. Kwasniewski isn't here interested in talking about Masonic conspiracies or Vatican politics. Instead, you find a common sense appeal to the superior quality of worship the Traditional Mass offers, what I would call a more hortatory approach—"Come to the Traditional Latin Mass because its simply better worship. Here's why." Not that problems with the Novus Ordo are downplayed or more weighty canonical issues ignored; rather, it's more that Dr. Kwasniewski continually focuses our attention on what is most important. The result is a book that not only educates but edifies.
I highly recommend Peter Kwasniewski's Reclaiming Our Roman Catholic Birthright as a sure guide for those wanting to understand why the Traditional Latin Mass is the future of the Church. If you already have the book, I recommend leaving a positive review on Amazon. If you'd like to get it—and support my blog as well—you can buy Reclaiming Our Roman Catholic Birthright here through my blog affiliate link. And, if you know Peter Kwasniewksi or follow him on Facebook, drop him a note thanking him for this valuable work.
Friday, January 01, 2021
Towards the end of that post, I made the following comment:
"It was certainly more of a challenge to orchestrate, but this communion meant a lot more. I was more prepared. My children were more prepared. The extra work made it more meaningful. And I started thinking there really is something to the argument that less communions can be more beneficial. Of course I've always known that it was superior to receive fewer communions better prepared than more communions less prepared, but until this present darkness I had no experiential knowledge of the fact. When this is all over, I think I may voluntarily receive Holy Communion less and spend more time in preparation. Maybe once a month or something."Several of you took issue with this. One commenter said:
"Dear Boniface, Jesus established His Church for two reasons: Salvation, Sanctification. We are sanctified primarily through the reception of Holy Communion and so you may want to rethink your plan in the future to receive less often."Another left a fuller critique:
"As noble as your intentions for less frequent Communion in order to make it more fervent may be, I would not recommend it. Saints have again and again stressed the necessity of frequent, even daily, Communion, both from the practical standpoint that man is in great need of the divine Food for his spiritual sustenance as also from the relational standpoint that Our Lord desires this union with us far more than we could ever desire it ourselves...The desire to be more prepared and more worthy is the right one. Communicating less frequently is definitely not. Grace builds upon nature, and strengthens and fortifies it. Nature alone is weak, and so long without Holy Communion it is bound to suffer both in the loss of virtue (that is good habit) and the development of vice. Build good habits; and the habit of frequent Communion (and confession!) is the best habit of all."
Sacraments work ex opera operato. You might have *felt* like you got more graces this way. Your experience was different. But the Church doesn't gauge the graces received from sacraments based on the feelings it induces. Have you asked a priest or confessor whether your conclusion about infrequent Holy Communion is correct? The reason why this line of thought is dangerous is because there's a fallacy along the line somewhere. It's like saying this:"My wife and I had to endure a separation because of a war. I was frequently out of country, serving my country. I came only one three times in ten years. My visits with her were more emotionally intense than any experience before, when we lived together. When the war is over, I think we're going to live in separate houses and get together only every few years."It's one thing if separation with a just cause leads one to appreciate one's interaction with one's spouse more. It's entirely different to artificially reduce contact in order to "prepare" more.The case with the Sacrament is similar. The Church encourages frequent reception. There's a cumulative effect here. Who's to say that frequent reception of the Sacraments doesn't have a net better effect, even if you don't do as intense a preparation for each reception?It just seems that you're seeing this all through your subjective experience. It felt more special, so you're proposing "social distancing" from Our Lord in the Sacrament in order to make your less frequent Holy Communions seem more special to you. It's perverse.
I do thank you all for seeking the good of my soul and warning me against the error of my ways. However, I do think you were misguided in your comments. I hope to show by this post that there is nothing amiss about voluntarily depriving oneself of Holy Communion for a time in order to better prepare oneself for reception later. And that what I said has nothing to do with "feeling" better about Holy Communion (contra my interlocutor) and is certainly not perverse.
"...in an era like ours, which is too prone to take Communion for granted and thus reduce it to a routine that lacks a deep hunger and thirst for God, we can benefit ourselves and make reparation for others by sometimes not going to Communion and by making an act of desire instead—a spiritual communion. It is a supernatural spin on "absence makes the heart grow fonder." (Peter Kwasniewski, Reclaiming Our Roman Catholic Birthright, Brooklyn: Angelico Press, 2020, pg. 285).
In the Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas addresses asks "Whether it is lawful to receive the sacrament daily?" His answer acknowledges that the sacrament works ex opera operato, as the commenter above explained, but balances that against the grace given ex opera operantis (by the disposition of the communicant). His response is worth quoting at length:
There are two things to be considered regarding the use of this sacrament. The first is on the part of the sacrament itself, the virtue [power] of which gives health to men; and consequently, it is profitable to receive it daily so as to receive its fruits daily. Hence Ambrose says: “If, whenever Christ’s blood is shed, it is shed for the forgiveness of sins, I, who sin often, should receive it often: I need a frequent remedy.”The second thing to be considered is on the part of the recipient, who is required to approach this sacrament with great reverence and devotion. Consequently, if anyone finds that he has these dispositions every day, he will do well to receive it daily. Hence, Augustine after saying, “Receive daily, that it may profit thee daily,” adds: “So live, as to deserve to receive it daily.”But because many persons are lacking in this devotion, on account of the many drawbacks both spiritual and corporal from which they suffer, it is not expedient for all to approach this sacrament every day; but they should do so as often as they find themselves properly disposed. Hence it is said in De Eccles. Dogmat. 53: “I neither praise nor blame daily reception of the Eucharist.” (St. Thomas, STh, III, Q. 80 Art 10)
Thomas lays out the various aspects that we should consider and avoids a facile solution that comes down exclusively on one side or the other. He is clear that receiving Communion is vital for our spiritual life, but so is our preparation and readiness.
Reverence for this sacrament consists in fear associated with love; consequently, reverential fear of God is called filial fear, as was said above, because the desire of receiving arises from love, while the humility of reverence springs from fear. Consequently, each of these [love and fear] belongs to the reverence due to this sacrament, both as to receiving it daily, and as to refraining from it sometimes.Hence Augustine says (Ep. 54): “If one says that the Eucharist should not be received daily, while another maintains the contrary, let each one do as according to his devotion he thinketh right; for Zaccheus and the Centurion did not contradict one another when the one received the Lord with joy, whereas the other said: ‘Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof’; since both honored our Saviour, though not in the same way.” But love and hope, whereunto the Scriptures constantly urge us, are preferable to fear. Hence, too, when Peter had said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord,” Jesus answered: “Fear not.”
A right intention consists in this: that he who approaches the Holy Table should do so, not out of routine, or vain glory, or human respect, but that he wish to please God, to be more closely united with Him by charity, and to have recourse to this divine remedy for his weakness and defects.One would assume, then, that whatever period of preparation was sufficient for a person to avoid routine would be laudable? After all, grace received ex opere operantis is important. Following St. Thomas, St. Pius X also stresses this point:
Since, however, the Sacraments of the New Law, though they produce their effect ex opere operato, nevertheless, produce a great effect in proportion as the dispositions of the recipient are better, therefore, one should take care that Holy Communion be preceded by careful preparation, and followed by an appropriate thanksgiving, according to each one's strength, circumstances and duties. That the practice of frequent and daily Communion may be carried out with greater prudence and more fruitful merit, the confessor's advice should be asked.How many of you ask your confessor's advice before receiving daily Communion?
If my "careful preparation" takes three weeks, who is anyone to say otherwise? As Augustine said on the matter, "let each one do as according to his devotion he thinketh right," for the Church does not ask that I receive Holy Communion as much as possible, but that I receive it as much as I am rightly disposed and prepared to do so. And that is a matter for my own careful discernment. If I, being educated and discerning of what our faith teaches, and not afflicted by scruples, believe that it might take me longer than one week to dispose myself rightly for Holy Communion, that's perfectly fine and very much within what our tradition envisions.
If anything, Communion that is too routine, too commonplace, too regular is more the danger today. And it is modernists like Cardinal Reinhard Marx who are prone to argue for MOAR COMMUNIONS for every class of people: “When someone is hungry and has faith, they must have access to the Eucharist. That must be our passion, and I will not let up on this" (First Things, "What Happens in Germany," May 2018)
One last pertinent quote is passage from none other than Joseph Ratzinger, affirming the concept of periodic "spiritual fasting" from the Eucharist as a means of enkindling greater love in our hearts for our Eucharistic Lord:
“Do we not often take the reception of the Blessed Sacrament too lightly? Might not this kind of spiritual fasting be of service, or even necessary, to deepen and renew our relationship to the Body of Christ? The ancient Church had a highly expressive practice of this kind. Since apostolic times, no doubt, the fast from the Eucharist on Good Friday was a part of the Church’s spirituality of communion. This renunciation of communion on one of the most sacred days of the Church’s year was a particularly profound way of sharing in the Lord’s Passion; it was the Bride’s mourning for the lost Bridegroom (cf. Mk 2:20). Today too, I think, fasting from the Eucharist, really taken seriously and entered into, could be most meaningful on carefully considered occasions, such as days of penance—and why not reintroduce the practice on Good Friday? It would be particularly appropriate at Masses where there is a vast congregation, making it impossible to provide for a dignified distribution of the sacrament; in such cases the renunciation of the sacrament could in fact express more reverence and love than a reception which does not do justice to the immense significance of what is taking place. A fasting of this kind—and of course it would have to be open to the Church’s guidance and not arbitrary—could lead to a deepening of personal relationship with the Lord in the sacrament. It could also be an act of solidarity with all those who yearn for the sacrament but cannot receive it. It seems to me as well that the problem of the divorced and remarried, as well as that of intercommunion (e.g., in mixed marriages), would be far less acute against the background of voluntary spiritual fasting, which would visibly express the fact that we all need that ‘healing of love’ which the Lord performed in the ultimate loneliness of the Cross. Naturally, I am not suggesting a return to a kind of Jansenism: fasting presupposes normal eating, both in spiritual and biological life. But from time to time we do need a medicine to stop us from falling into mere routine which lacks all spiritual dimension. Sometimes we need hunger, physical and spiritual hunger, if we are to come fresh to the Lord’s gifts and understand the suffering of our hungering brothers. Both spiritual and physical hunger can be a vehicle of love.” ( Joseph Ratzinger, Behold the Pierced One: An Approach to a Spiritual Christology, trans. Graham Harrison (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1986), 97-98.I want to make one final point about the analogy the interlocutor made about marriage. To review, he said:
The reason why this line of thought is dangerous is because there's a fallacy along the line somewhere. It's like saying this: "My wife and I had to endure a separation because of a war. I was frequently out of country, serving my country. I came only one three times in ten years. My visits with her were more emotionally intense than any experience before, when we lived together. When the war is over, I think we're going to live in separate houses and get together only every few years." It's one thing if separation with a just cause leads one to appreciate one's interaction with one's spouse more. It's entirely different to artificially reduce contact in order to "prepare" more.
This analogy is flawed for this reason:
What we have, then, is not about having access to God or not, but more about taking time preparing for a profoundly intimate encounter with God's love through other acts of love. Therefore a more appropriate marital analogy might be temporary abstention from sexual intercourse. A man and a woman may voluntarily abstain from intercourse, during which time they focus on showing each other love through different means. The husband has not cut himself off from the wife by any means—he is present to her continually, but he is showing her love by other ways than just intercourse. And indeed, this temporary abstention from intercourse will most likely make the sexual act more appreciated when it finally is time to be intimate in that way. I'm sure many Catholic married couples recognize this pattern.
Is not the same principle applicable here that St. Paul teaches regarding sexual intercourse among the married: "Deprive not one another, except, perhaps, by consent, for a time, that you may give yourselves to prayer; and return together again, lest Satan tempt you..." (1 Cor. 7:5). If one devotes himself to prayer, there is no reason one cannot voluntarily deprive himself of communion "for a time", just as St. Paul teaches of marital relations, which are ultimately a mystery of Christ and the Church.
Thursday, December 31, 2020
I was unable to blog as much as I would have liked this year, and honestly sometimes there was so much going on that by the time I had something to say I questioned whether it was still relevant. Even so, there were a few articles this year that were among my personal favorites:
Some Hard Talk about the Knights of Columbus: One of my most popular posts of the year, addressing the elephant in the room about the Knights of Columbus declining membership—young men are bored by an organization whose obligations are tedious and unfulfilling.
Our New Civic Religion: The ideology of Black Lives Matter has assumed the form of a new civic religion.
It's not "Crucifying Your Neighbor" to Attend Mass: Responding to an essay by one of our favorite interlocutors who was arguing that it is "crucifying your neighbor" to attend Mass during the pandemic.
"Utilitarianism": The Latest Word Being Used Incorrectly: Responding to objections that anti-lockdown Catholics are taking a "utilitarian" approach to human life in the pandemic.
Some Coronavirus Catch-Up: Though probably dated now, this article from the first weeks of the lockdowns was my first attempt to respond to some of the stupidity that only became more endemic as 2020 wore on.
Balancing Truth and Humility: My most recent article, encouraging us all to balance our zeal for the truth with authentic Christian humility.
On the Ridiculous Extension of the Term "Pro-Life": Liberal Catholics have a tendency to continuously expand the definition of "Pro-Life" until it becomes equated entirely with political progressivism.
On Wokeness and Reasons People Leave the Church: This was by far my most popular article of the year, in terms of views. Examining the reasons a well-known Catholic family gave for leaving the Church and how they were related to the phenomenon of "Wokeness."
I look forward to another year of blogging. A special blessing to those of my friends who have stuck with me this long. What news of your own lives?
Saturday, December 26, 2020
Wednesday, November 25, 2020
One of the most notable characteristics of the Novus Ordo Missae is the utilization of members of the congregation in roles that were formerly filled by clerics in Minor Orders. This change was brought about due to a misguided understanding of "active participation", a phrase whose pre-Vatican II definition had meant something more akin to "full engagement of mind and heart" but which in the post-Conciliar regime came to mean "everybody moving around doing stuff." There is an excellent little exegesis on the pedigree of the phrase participatio actuosa in Dr. Peter Kwasniewski's book Reclaiming Our Roman Catholic Birthright (which I will be reviewing in the near future, Lord willing). For those of you who don't have the book, I recommend this article from Dr. Kwasniewski at New Liturgical Movement.
While there are many examples of congregants being substituted for clerics in the new Mass, here I'd like to focus on the role of the lector in the Novus Ordo, specifically in utilitarian terms. That is, there are many good arguments that it is more uniquely fitting for clergy to lector; here I am going to present an argument for the same based on the fact that congregants are generally bad at doing the readings.
Before we examine this, I want to reference from the Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 45, on mistakes made when doing the readings. St. Benedict wrote:
Should anyone make a mistake in a psalm, responsory, refrain or reading, he must make satisfaction there before all. If he does not use this occasion to humble himself, he will be subjected to more severe punishment for failing to correct by humility the wrong committed through negligence. Children, however, are to be whipped for such a fault.
Friday, November 13, 2020
I recently took a trip out to Southern California and had a very edifying time visiting various churches and religious sites. Though Southern California is obviously a hotbed of progressive nonsense politically, for the devout Catholic, it's also a rich paradise of cultural, historic, and religious sites.
If you want to do more research on the Norbertines of St. Michael, their website can be found here.
The mission chapel is particularly noteworthy. Though much of it is reconstructed, the reconstructions were done using materials from the same period taken from other similar structures and based on historical drawings and photographs. It is a very accurate representation of what St. Junipero must have seen when he offered Mass here:
I was able to spend quite a bit of time in here in prayer. The mission was a little quieter than usual due to Covid I was told and I had the place to myself for some time. What a grace!
After this I wanted to make a trip up to the San Gabriel Mission, but I was informed by a docent that it had regrettably been destroyed over the summer in an apparent act of anti-Catholic arson.
As I was leaving, I noticed the old lady was still kneeling outside praying the Rosary. Then I saw other people were kneeling in the grass, in the parking lot. It was super bizarre, so I turned to see what they were all kneeling towards. That was when I noticed the Blessed Sacrament was being displayed from the second story window of a building next door to the Church, presumably the Rectory. When Covid restrictions closed the Adoration chapel, the pastor had moved the sacrament to the rectory, which allowed people to adore from the parking lot. I immediately dropped to my knees, embarrassed that I had walked back and forth across this area multiple times without realizing what was going on. I took this picture, which I found profoundly moving: