Instead of a Sunday, A Day Off
“Instead of a Sunday,” Baron K. told us, “the Russians have a day off. This happens at certain intervals which vary in different parts of the country. First they had a five-day week, with the sixth day off, then they had a nine-day work period, with the tenth day off; then again it was an eight-day week. What a difference between a day off and a Sunday! The people work in shifts. While one group enjoys its day off, the others continue to work in the factories or on the farms or in the stores, which are always open. As a result the over-all impression throughout the country was that of incessant work, work, work. The atmosphere was one of constant rush and drive; finally, we confessed to each other that what we were missing most was not a well-cooked meal, or a hot bath, but a quiet, peaceful Sunday with church bells ringing and people resting after prayer…
As I have spent most of my life in rural areas, it is Sunday in the country that I shall describe.
First of all, it begins on Saturday afternoon. In some parts of the country the church bell rings at three o’clock, in others at five o’clock, and the people call it “ringing in the Feierabend.” Just as some of the big feasts begin the night before–on Christmas Eve, New Year’s Eve, Easter Eve–so every Sunday throughout the year also starts on its eve. That gives Saturday night its hallowed character. When the church bell rings, the people cease working in the fields…On Sunday everyone puts on his finery. The Sunday dress is exactly what its name implies–clothing reserved to be worn only on Sunday…
But when my husband and I were walking home that night from Baron K.’s house, we realized that our complacency–so prevalent among people in pre-war days–had received a rude shock. It dawned on us that we had taken something for granted that was, in reality, a privilege: namely, that we lived in a country where Sunday was not so much observed as it was celebrated as the day of the Lord. This was a new way of looking at things, and the light was still rather dim, but I can see now in retrospect that a new chapter in our life as a Christian family began that very night.
The Land Without a Sunday
If we call ourselves Christians,
these words of Maria Von Trapp’s essay, pierce,. maybe even draw some blood. As indeed they should. In our 21st century, Von Trapp’s description of Sunday reads like fantastically religious whimsy. And yet, her essay provokes us even more deeply because she explains they did these things out of tradition. When asked why Saturday nights and Sundays were this way, she realizes, “Everyone did it and so we did too.”
“It was a necessary cleansing.”
Father Paul McCollum’s reply to my description of becoming Catholic during the awful persecution of the Boston Catholic church in the late nineties surprised, even shocked me. And I must have showed it.
“Lin, when I was growing up, Saturday nights were for confession. Every Saturday night. And then Mass on Sunday mornings.”
My then spiritual director paused, collecting his thoughts. “It’s what everyone did….”With an ironic smile, he said,”I was a kid and on the way into the priest, would make up stuff just to have something to say. Now, when Catholics go to confession, they come because of sorrow, contrition for their sins, not conditioned habit.”
It’s tempting to think that those who’ve gone before us had it easier: easier in terms of working to live virtuously, that is. But we need only to continue reading Maria Von Trapp’s essay or look back in history to see that achieving a virtuous life is hard work. At times, it’s a moment by moment grind that requires all we have, gritting our teeth the whole while. Satan didn’t take over this world last year. We handed it to him in the beginning..
This past Wednesday was the Feast of Saint Ingnatius of Loyola, a saint I ‘met’ in Rome. Before our trip to Italy, I knew his name and little else. But when John and I walked into the Chiesa di Sant Ignazio, I virtually dropped to my knees. St Peter’s was stunning to be sure; the Sistine Chapel, indescribable. But it was at the Church of St. Ignatius of Loyola–the Chiesa del Jesu— where I wanted to worship, over and over again. And it was there that I had my first conversation with the Spanish soldier of fortune who became a saint because he’d nothing else to do. It was there that I prayed at the simple black coffin holding his remains, asking–more accurately, begging for direction for my life.
And got it.
We do ourselves a great disservice when we ignore these friends in heaven: men and women who walked this earth, did battle with the same temptations as we.
“Born to be saints,” you say about him or her?
Yes, of course.
But so are you.
And me.
Saint Ignatius, Pivotal Player
Bishop Robert Barron’s series of pivotal players in the Catholic Church is a gem. Each hour-long video is visually beautiful and replete with the depth and comprehensive research we associate with Bishop Barron’s work.
For Saint Ignatius’ feast day, he offers his presentation on Saint Ignatius of Loyola for free: https://www.wordonfire.org/loyola/#watch. The presentation begins, Admayorim Dei Gloria, to the greater glory of God.. This is the motto associated with Saint Ignatius of Loyola and the Society of Jesus order he founded. And another maxim of the saint, Semper major “always more.” Saint Ignatius pushed, ever certain that his fidelity and devotion to God could ever be increased…there is always more we can do to unite ourselves, to give Glory. Not until though, he dealt with his desires for fame and his love of the world and its vanities.
What would our lives be like if, daily, upon opening our eyes, we dicided that starting now, with evry word and action, we would give greater glory to God? Certain that our focus must be on our own actions, the weeds in our own hearts, categorically refusing to participate in the moral outrage swirling around us. Summing up the Ignatian spirtual exercises in one sentence: always do more to promote the salvation of souls.
“Then,” Bishop Barron declares, “everything is ordered and our lives will reflect Ignatian indifference to all but God.”
By finding others who apparently are more evil than we, we falsely believe that we are somehow better “than the rest of men” (Luke 18:11). It used to be that the most popular biographies were stories about the lives of good men and women worthy of our imitation, rather than the recounting of scandals for the sake of making us believe we are more virtuous than we really are.
The Wisdom of Fulton J. Sheen (Archbishop)
The photo below is the magnificent Chiesa del Jesu in Rome.
On the bottom far left can be seen the coffin holding the remains of Saint Ignatius of Loyola.
