St. Mary's Church, Roslyn: Pastor's Page

Dear Friends,

Mark Twain, quoting a contemporary, once commented on the work of a famous German composer; for him, Richard Wagner’s music “is really much better than it sounds.” That quip came to mind when reading about the work featured on this week’s bulletin: the Annunciation by Leonardo da Vinci. (I know: my third da Vinci reference.) The scene of the angel Gabriel delivering the divine message to Our Lady was one of the most oft-depicted Biblical images in the Renaissance. Several critics have attributed the supposed “flaws” of Leonardo’s execution—poor spatial perspective, the “vacant” expression of the Virgin, her seemingly elongated right arm, the visually distracting garden wall, etc.—to the relative inexperience of a still-apprentice artist. Walter Isaacson even remarks, without a hint of irony: “On careful examination, however, the picture is not quite as bad as it looks.” As bad as it looks? What does that even mean? Speaking as a layman, my reaction is quite the opposite: the image seems so…perfect. If this is what it means to be “flawed,” we all should be so lucky…

On second thought, perhaps the very limitations of an artist’s early effort recommend it all the more to the occasion we mark this weekend, namely, the installation of a new pastor. Doubtless, the flaws of his performance will, like a young painter’s shortcomings, be manifest before long, if they aren’t already: his difficulty in “balancing” priorities, his “vacant” response when addressing new challenges, his arm that seems to “overreach” from time to time, his lack of focus, especially when compared with churches “beyond the wall” of Roslyn, etc. One hopes that, just as history had patience with the “errors” of a Florentine artist, or God—with the questions of a young maiden facing unique circumstances—the good people of St. Mary’s will be no less generous with their new priest.

The fact that the Annunciation is the first of the joyful mysteries is not lost on me. It is, for all its unknowns, a moment of seemingly endless possibility and divine invitation. Just so, the will of God continues to unfold in the life of our parish. Along the way we will undoubtedly experience the touch of tragedy, but only then can we appreciate the sublime moments of grace and love that are also in store for us. And would the delight they bring be nearly as intense if we could anticipate them? We must constantly be ready to accept the gifts of God, the Source of Goodness, and Wisdom, and Beauty, whenever they come to us.

In the meantime, given human weakness and imperfection, the advice of the saints is worthy of consideration. As St. Ignatius remarks at the beginning of the Spiritual Exercises, it “is necessary to suppose that every good Christian is more ready to put a good interpretation on another’s statement than to condemn it as false.” To discern God’s will, whether in one’s personal life or that of a religious community, is simultaneously a fascinating and (almost fiendishly) difficult task. The presumption of goodwill, however—itself the sign of God’s grace—has the effect of binding us together and smoothing out our rough edges. Let us pray for a gracious approach to the adventures that lie before us.

Faithfully,

Fr. Valentine

Dear Friends,

I’ve always been partial to the image of Our Lady of Angels, if for no other reason than the fact that it was the name of the Brooklyn parish where my parents were married. True, the Church celebrates her feast on August 2, but one could argue how appropriate it is to mention her this weekend. Today, September 29, is the Feast of Ss. Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael the Archangels, while this Wednesday, October 2, we honor the Guardian Angels. Moreover, on Friday, October 4, we celebrate St. Francis, whose chapel, the Portiuncula (“little portion”) is located in the Basilica of St. Mary of the Angels in Assisi. (By the way, we’ll have the Blessing of Animals next Saturday at noon in front of our Church.) The Mother of God, honored by saints and angels alike, nevertheless points our attention away from her and instead to her Son, as today’s lovely painting by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, makes clear.

The great St. Thomas Aquinas, who set the agenda for Roman Catholic theology in the Middle Ages, is also known as the Angelic Doctor; this may very well be because he wrote more about the nature and function of the angels than almost any other Catholic theologian. Thomas explains that the angels are completely spiritual beings who represent various aspects of God’s power and goodness; each angel is “one of a kind,” because there is in one no mixture of matter and form, and for the same reason an angel cannot die; as intellectual beings whose knowledge comes directly from God, angels do not need to “learn” as human beings do, but their knowledge is not absolute, the way God’s is; finally, because angels, unlike human beings, are not influenced by their appetites, they use their free will more perfectly than we do. In what Thomas calls the “analogy of being,” it seems appropriate to believe in angels within the order of creatures, as we proceed from purely physical to purely spiritual ones. By contrast, we human beings have one foot in both worlds: the physical (by virtue of our bodies) and the spiritual (our souls).

Even the names of the angels communicate some aspect of divine grace: Michael (“Who is like God?”), the leader of the heavenly host, Gabriel (“God is my strength”), who announces the divine plan to the Blessed Mother, and Raphael (“God heals”), who restores well being to suffering humanity.

But what does any of this have to do with you and me? We learn from St. Augustine that the word “angel” signifies a function, an activity: namely, to serve as a messenger of God. As your pastor, I have witnessed, firsthand, how our parishioners convey to their neighbor, friend and stranger alike, the goodness, and wisdom, and beauty of God, on a daily basis. It is a privilege to observe the Disciples of Christ communicate the power of God’s grace, as it raises, perfects, and strengthens the human condition.

Surely, those we honor this week, the angels as well as the saints—St. Francis, St. Therese of Lisieux (“the Little Flower”), and the great St. Jerome (the Biblical scholar who tells us that “ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ”)—call us to a deeper knowledge and love of Christ. May Our Lady of the Angels intercede for us as we follow our vocation.

Faithfully,
Fr. Valentine