The Truth of Parable

While I very much enjoyed reading Peter C. Erb’s The Schwenkfelder Code (6/5), I would have to object to a few of its assertions. I cringed when the author suggested that a faith based on a fictional narrative was adolescent. Since the embrace of historical-critical methods in the field of biblical scholarship, few would disagree that the Bible contains fictional assertions that do not uphold historical integrity. The historian Arnold Toynbee suggested, however, that the genre of fiction was the most truthful way of communicating a description of human relationships. Artistic recreation reaches more of the intangibles of a human story line.

The article assumes that fiction, its depictions being historically inaccurate, is a less adequate technique when communicating such truths as articles of faith. I would argue the contrary: it is more accurate, especially in the discussion of the transcendent, because through art it relays and evokes the emotive elements of relationship. I do not defend Dan Brown’s work. I would agree with much of Erb’s critique (I especially appreciated his point about the contradiction between Brown’s content and formula in one of the final paragraphs), but in the process of this critique he downgrades the power of fiction and the desire of the human to be involved in another’s story. That is not adolescent. That’s simply human. And it can work both ways, which brings me to another, final point.

Despite misgivings, if the reader were to accept the analogy of a mature faith, based on church teaching and history, versus an immature faith, based on the popularity of a piece of fiction, should maturity so flippantly dismiss immaturity? Is there not an obligation to listen, as a parent should, and to respect the needs of their children? Regarding the Da Vinci experience as adolescent demonstrates a divide between the church and its flock. We are called to bridge this divide. The point is that there is much to be learned from the phenomena surrounding The Da Vinci Code. One is that the world very often does not listen to historically accurate doctrinal explanations. It listens to stories that are rich in true and human intangibles. It yearns for the truth of fiction and parable, rather than the truth of catechesis and history. And the church should listen and learn before it thinks of itself as so mature, losing its members to popular trends because it no longer speaks the world’s language.

Joseph Arner

Life to Come

As director of the Office of Prayer and Worship for the Diocese of Albany, I found Terry Golway’s essay It’s Your Funeral (6/5) disturbing. I can only speak for the Diocese of Albany; but like diocesan officials in many areas of the country, we have found it necessary and helpful to establish guidelines for the selection of music and the reflection on the life of the deceased at funeral liturgies. Yes, there were a few horror stories that initiated these directives, but there is also a need for catechesis and a desire to provide positive liturgical experiences reflective of the Christian belief in death and the life to come.

It is in this respect that I disagree with Mr. Golway. The Catholic funeral Mass is not about the individual; it is a celebration of the paschal mystery, Christ’s ministry, passion and death, resurrection and promise to come again as made evident in the life of the one whose earthly time has passed. It points the mourner not only to what has been, but more importantly to the belief that life has changed, not ended. It offers hope to those who grieve that there will be a time when all will be united again and every tear will be wiped away.

Roman Catholic liturgy is forever attempting to call us back from the rampant individualism that pervades United States culture to a sense of community, a sense of identity within the larger group, the body of Christ. It is for this reason that the Order of Christian Funerals recommends that as the casket is received into church it be covered with a pall that recalls the baptismal garment, the sign of Christian dignity given through the sacrament of Baptism. The white pall also signifies that all are equal in the eyes of God.

With regard to Mr. Golway’s complaints about music selections, perhaps he can appreciate that music is part of the prayer of the funeral and all liturgies, not a decorative finial tacked on to provide accent. Prayer is addressed to God. It too is not merely about us.

Also of Irish descent, I am chilled by the affection he feels for the song by Sting and the Chieftains played at the end of James Davitt’s funeral, whose words were sung in a language he did not know. He believes the song was about defiance and courage and life itself. How does he know that the song did not also glorify or call others to acts of violence? Was there any way for him to experience the song as prayer?

I would suggest that instead of being concerned about whether or not one has a friend on the inside and the need or inability to cultivate relationships with clergy to serve one’s own ends, Mr. Golway and others who share his perspective enter into and maintain a greater familiarity with the rituals of the church and the theology that underlies them. I hope America will not let Mr. Golway’s text be the only word on this subject.

Elizabeth Simcoe