In a statement sure to make traditionalists scream, Cardinal Roger Mahony writes, “While we all must constantly re-evaluate our liturgical practice and not allow it to become routine or careless, I have determined that there is no need to make any significant changes in our liturgical practice at this time.” 

So while in Los Angeles, carafes are okay if “artistically designed.” Recently, the curia seemed to virtually outlaw the practice of using carafes and pouring the Sacrament into chalices once the consecration had taken effect. Some parishes were scrambling to adjust practices during the preparation of the altar and gifts, but others, not only in Mahony’s diocese, continue as they had. 

While the Vatican seems to be nitpicking about ritual practices it has little experience with, I was struck by the tone in Mahony’s statement, especially that clergy must demonstrate an “ability to pour the Precious Blood without danger.” Somehow I doubt that Rome’s answer to Mahony’s “Liturgy Evaluation Forms” will be a Pouring Certification for clergy. 

While some may applaud Mahony’s sensible approach, especially in light of the many years’ effort he has led in improving liturgy in his archdiocese, it throws down a liturgical gauntlet of sorts. If a local bishop truly believes Vatican II reforms have been seriously and fruitfully implemented, is he bound by curial proscriptions? How’s your bishop doing? Does your pastor have a certification to pour? 

If you can’t lead people to the confessional …

… just take it to the people instead. The “Beichtmobil,” a white Volkswagen minivan with tinted windows, advertises reconciliation “with God and the people” in the Archdiocese of Munich, Germany. The vehicle made its first appearance at a diocesan youth day in Augsburg. Appealing to those who might find traditional church confessionals intimidating, the Beichtmobil also advertises a phone number to bring the sacrament to people who cannot get to a church. 

Christian songs in native languages

Marking the opening of the National Museum of the American Indian last fall, a 33-song CD entitled Beautiful Beyond is available both at the museum gift shop or online at www.nmai .si.edu. The recording features well-known Christian songs sung in languages you’ve probably never heard, such as Hopi (“Silent Night”), Navajo (“Amazing Grace”), and Oneida (“Rock of Ages”). 

Sacristan (?), know thy church

Late one evening, police responded to an alarm at a place of worship to find a man looking through cabinets. The intruder insisted he had come early to prepare for the next morning’s Mass. Aside from a broken window indicating forced entry and pocketed, price-tagged jewelry, how did Bangor, Maine, law enforcement realize this was likely a fib? The location: Beth El Congregation Synagogue. 

Head for the border

Press coverage of controversial parish closings in the Archdiocese of Boston focused on protests, sit-ins, and an outdoor Mass last Aug. 15. But ill feelings have also netted a windfall of new members for a few parishes on the border of the Worcester Diocese. “We’ve doubled our religious education program,” reported a DRE in Northboro. “God’s sending the people. I feel like we’re blessed to have them.” 

World’s smallest cathedral

“This you have to see to believe,” reads the entry in Off the Beaten Path: A Guide to Unique Places. And people do come to see, some from as far away as Australia. For 20 years, the Cathedral of the Prince of Peace has sat under a large oak tree in Highlandville, Mo., quietly proud of its designation in Guinness World Records as the world’s smallest cathedral.

Karl Pruter, a bishop in Christ Catholic Church (part of the Old Catholic Church, which split from Rome over Vatican I’s definition of papal infallibility), converted a 14-by-17-foot washhouse on a farm property he purchased in 1983. The building is outfitted with an altar, a tabernacle, four pews, a stained glass window, and a small organ. Mass is celebrated traditionally, with the priest facing east, and draws up to a dozen worshipers on Sundays. Mass is celebrated daily, though sometimes the total in attendance is just four — “myself, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,” Pruter said. 

Though the town publicizes its tourist attraction, Pruter insists the Guinness designation is not important. “We’re not trying to attract the looky-sees. We want people who want to meditate.” Though he does leave the cathedral unlocked 24/7 and neighbors note tour buses and the occasional wedding, Pruter, 84, is content to spend much of his time praying and writing. The publicity acknowledges the Old Catholic movement and what it’s doing in this country. (Material courtesy of Steve Bock and the Kansas City Star)  ML