UPDATE: The audio controls have been replaced by a YouTube video, so now the song is combined with pictures from the ordination. Amazing! Thank you Julie, Maria, and others who put their skills together to make this video. Previous post: Julie Lafontaine was a parishioner of mine back when I was in Saint Luke parish [...]
UPDATE: The audio controls have been replaced by a YouTube video, so now the song is combined with pictures from the ordination. Amazing! Thank you Julie, Maria, and others who put their skills together to make this video.
Previous post:
Julie Lafontaine was a parishioner of mine back when I was in Saint Luke parish in Dollard-des-Ormeaux. She has a gorgeous singing voice and is quite a talented artist in that regard. Back when my appointment as bishop was first announced she wrote me the following:
I just thought I should let you know that I felt compelled to write a song in honour of your recent election as Auxiliary Bishop. I would love to share it with you some time soon.
Well, “soon” turned out to be today! With her permission, feel free to have a listen for yourselves:
I am so very touched by this generous gesture, which I can tell came from the heart. Thank you, Julie, I am proud to share this song with my blog readers.
For those wanting to attend the ordination ceremony, it will be held at Mary Queen of the World Cathedral in downtown Montreal. The main entrance to the church is on René-Lévesque boulevard. The ceremony will begin at 7:30 p.m., but I recommend getting there at least an hour early to have a decent seat. There [...]
For those wanting to attend the ordination ceremony, it will be held at Mary Queen of the World Cathedral in downtown Montreal. The main entrance to the church is on René-Lévesque boulevard. The ceremony will begin at 7:30 p.m., but I recommend getting there at least an hour early to have a decent seat. There will be a reception afterward, open to the public. Details regarding the reception will be announced at the end of the ordination.
For those who cannot attend, you will be able to watch it unfold live through the magic of streaming video on the web through a Livestream channel:
You can also go directly to the broadcast page, where additional options (like posting Facebook comments) becomes possible:
Yesterday I received my two new cassocks (one purple, and one black with red piping), and today I ran around Montreal picking up the last of my items for the ordination: my ring, my mitre, my crozier, my new alb, and so on. There are a few items still outstanding, but I do not need [...]
Yesterday I received my two new cassocks (one purple, and one black with red piping), and today I ran around Montreal picking up the last of my items for the ordination: my ring, my mitre, my crozier, my new alb, and so on. There are a few items still outstanding, but I do not need them for Saturday, so in other words I am good to go.
Tonight, we had the ordination rehearsal. It was great seeing so many people coming together for the final preparations for the ceremony, and frankly I feel like a big weight is off my shoulders. I have a few lines I need to memorize, but otherwise my last task is to pray be open to God’s grace. Please pray for me!
One of the traditions associated with becoming a bishop is having a coat of arms. This is not mandatory in any way, but most bishops around the world have at least an unofficial coat of arms that they use, and some in Canada have received a formal grant of arms through the Canadian Heraldic Authority. [...]
One of the traditions associated with becoming a bishop is having a coat of arms. This is not mandatory in any way, but most bishops around the world have at least an unofficial coat of arms that they use, and some in Canada have received a formal grant of arms through the Canadian Heraldic Authority. The advantage of doing so, of course, is that the resulting coat of arms fully respects the heraldic tradition. As for my coat of arms, the preliminary art came in last week, and I adjusted it slightly in Photoshop to produce the following:
The green and gold colours should, of course, be recognizable to readers of this blog, as I have used them ever since I began putting up my own web pages (they are derived from the colours of the Dowd family). Green, in particular, is the colour of hope, and hope is definitely at the core of my spirituality. At the same time, gold represents the glory of God and of heaven, a glory I hope to witness and share in some day. It is the object of my hope.
Old time blog readers will also remember a time when the symbol of a sun had a prominent place (it was later shifted over to the adventus.org website). I have long been inspired by the title given to Christ of “Sun of Justice”, as found in this quote from the prophet Malachi when speaking of the coming Day of the Lord: “But for you who fear my name, there will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays” (chapter 3, verse 20).
The stripe, called a bend sinister in heraldic terms, has the same basic shape as a deacon’s stole. It represents the fact that all bishops and priests were once first ordained as deacons, and are called first of all to serve and not be served.
The special horn is actually a shofar, a trumpet traditionally made from the horn of a ram. This musical instrument is meant to announce the glory of God. As well, these sorts of instruments are symbolic of communication at a distance, and so it expresses my interest in media and other means of social communications.
The motto, cor et anima una, is Latin for “one heart and soul”. It is taken from a description of the early Christian community found in the Acts of the Apostles (chapter 4, verse 32). I have already written about my use of this motto here.
I think the artist did a fabulous job, personally. I wanted something very simple and clean: two colours, with a maximum of three easy-to-sketch symbols. Many coats of arms are very complex, and would look good in a tapestry. I wanted something that would look great as a JPEG, and I think I got it. Traditional, yet modern — just the balance I was looking for.
I was at Saint Aloysius parish this morning, to celebrate my last parish Sunday mass there before being ordained bishop. I will of course return there sometime, but I won’t be able to be there on a regular basis. A small reception was held afterwards, complete with coffee and cake, at which I was presented [...]
I was at Saint Aloysius parish this morning, to celebrate my last parish Sunday mass there before being ordained bishop. I will of course return there sometime, but I won’t be able to be there on a regular basis. A small reception was held afterwards, complete with coffee and cake, at which I was presented with a very nice (and large!) card signed by many of the parishioners. Some of the kids also gave me drawings they did. This one, part of another large card, was just too cute:
Simple and to the point. I don’t have a refrigerator door to post the cute things kids sometimes give me, but the blog is a great alternative!
I had a meeting this morning to try and determine which of the various dossiers I currently manage I am going to have to drop/transfer to someone else once I am ordained a bishop, because I am already pretty busy and I can’t just take more on without giving up something. The process of taking [...]
I had a meeting this morning to try and determine which of the various dossiers I currently manage I am going to have to drop/transfer to someone else once I am ordained a bishop, because I am already pretty busy and I can’t just take more on without giving up something. The process of taking on new tasks has already started, mind you: I recently received a letter informing me I have been appointed as a member of the College of Consultors for the Archdiocese of Montreal.
What, you may ask, is the College of Consultors? Every diocese has a Council of Priests (a.k.a. the Presbyteral Council), whose members are elected by the priests themselves, or who are automatically members of the Council because of the job they have. As an auxiliary bishop I am in the latter category. Then, from among the members of the Council there is a smaller group, picked by the diocesan bishop, who constitute the College of Consultors. This is a stable body which the diocesan bishop *must* consult on certain matters, usually related to finances. Should something happen to the diocesan bishop (e.g. he dies suddenly), the College can also elect a diocesan administator to govern until a diocesan bishop is appointed (and, I should note, a diocesan administrator has to get the approval of the College for even more situations than the diocesan bishop does).
I don’t know how much work this new job is going to involve — probably not a lot. Still, I can see I am going to have to bone up on canon law, particularly the part about the approval process for major transactions, as well as what needs to happen in the event we find ourselves without a diocesan bishop.
As readers of this blog know, I have recently been going shopping for speciality items for bishops. Shopping is really not my thing, but as it turns out a great many people have been following this particular element of my recent vocational evolution with great interest. One journalist told me at one point not to [...]
As readers of this blog know, I have recently been going shopping for speciality items for bishops. Shopping is really not my thing, but as it turns out a great many people have been following this particular element of my recent vocational evolution with great interest. One journalist told me at one point not to be surprised if people were really curious about the shopping. “Great,” I replied dryly, “I’ll be the Kate Middleton of the episcopal world.” His reply? “I wish you had said that on camera!” Um, no.
Now there is actually an official basic standard for some of the elements of the episcopal uniform. For example, the Ceremonial for Bishops says the following at paragraph 1199:
This is the choir dress of the bishop both inside and outside his diocese: purple cassock; purple silk sash, with silk fringes at both ends (but without tassels); rochet of linen or some similar material; purple mozzetta (without hood); over the mozetta the pectoral cross with cord of green interwoven with gold strands; purple skullcap; purple biretta with tassel. Purple stockings are also worn.
Purple stockings? Is this for real? And yet, it is.
And we are not talking about any old purple either: as I have recently learned, episcopal purple is somewhere between fuschia and magenta. This is far more information about “purple” than I ever thought I’d ever need. No wonder most bishops I know don’t have the special socks.
And yet, I am a by-the-book kind of guy, so I figured I should get some just in case they would come in handy. “So where the heck are you going to get men’s fuschia socks?” asked a good friend of mine recently, as we were discussing my shopping list.
A good question, and yet another reason why, when this is all over, I am going to write a “survival guide to being named bishop” for the benefit of those appointed in the future. In fact, I had gotten some socks in the mail a couple of days prior to our conversation. “Did you order them from Rome? They must have been expensive,” he wondered.
“In fact, they weren’t expensive at all,” I replied, “I got them from Florida.”
“Florida? There’s a store for bishop’s stuff in Florida?”
“Not that I know of,” I answered with an impish grin, “but there *is* a store called WeLoveColors.com.”
Yep, that’s where I got them. And yes, we had a good laugh over that. Sometimes you have to love the Internet. Next thing you know I will be buying mitres on eBay. Not!
A number of people I’ve spoken with are curious about the process used in selecting bishops in the Latin Church. While I can’t say I have first hand experience of the procedure (except for being on the receiving end), there are a few details I do know, particularly as it concerns auxiliaries. When a diocesan [...]
A number of people I’ve spoken with are curious about the process used in selecting bishops in the Latin Church. While I can’t say I have first hand experience of the procedure (except for being on the receiving end), there are a few details I do know, particularly as it concerns auxiliaries.
When a diocesan bishop believes it would be pastorally advantageous to have one or more auxiliary bishops appointed for his diocese, he submits a list of candidates to the Holy See (i.e. the Vatican) through the Pope’s diplomatic representative in Canada (known as the Apostolic Nuncio, i.e. a kind of ambassador). This list must have at least three names; this is why the list is called a terna (meaning “three”). I imagine the bishop making the request can list them in an order of preference, although canon law itself is silent on that issue.
Once the terna has been submitted it must be vetted to make sure each candidate means the minimum criteria and is at least credible as a possible candidate. The minimum criteria include age (at least 35 years old), experience (at least 5 years of priesthood), education (at least a licentiate in Biblical studies, theology or canon law), and other human factors like a good reputation, solid faith, good morals, piety, pastoral zeal, wisdom, prudence, and so on. These criteria are listed in the Code of Canon Law, canon 378.
From what I hear, it is possible for a terna to be rejected outright! This does not mean that none of the candidates are worthy, but my understanding is that all three candidates must be true potentials, so that the Pope has a genuine choice. One would not want to have a situation, for example, where a diocesan bishop, hoping for one name in particular, was tempted to put down two others whom he knew were unlikely to be chosen (in other words, trying to rig the outcome).
Once the list of candidates has been initially vetted, a process of inquiry begins, led by the Apostolic Nuncio. He writes in secret to priests and lay people who know the candidate(s) and asks them to write back with responses to a detailed set of questions. I should point out that the candidate himself is not asked any questions, nor is he asked about the other candidates. This process is meant to hopefully avoid politics and “campaigning for the job”, and to the extent that secrecy is maintained a potential candidate could truly be left in the dark. For example, I imagine that at least a few of the 20 priests I live with here at the cathedral were consulted regarding me, and yet — hats off to them — none ever let on.
One never knows what the inquiry process might turn up, but assuming the terna remains valid (i.e. the three candidates remain credible), the reports are sent to Rome to the Congregation for Bishops (or, for mission territories, the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples). A committee composed of bishops and cardinals examines the reports, checking to make sure that proper procedure was followed, and that the candidates truly are potentially suitable. Ultimately, the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for Bishops then presents the list to the Pope (I imagine with a recommendation, although I can’t confirm that), and the Pope makes the final selection.
There are some who believe that the general procedure for the selection of bishops should be more open, more democratic. I suppose the matter could be open for discussion: after all, the Eastern Catholic Churches have different methods in picking their bishops, and even the Latin Church has exceptions to its general process (such as in Switzerland). Heck, in the Acts of the Apostles (chapter 1, verses 15-26) we see that Saint Peter, while he led the process to pick the successor to Judas, left it up to the community to suggest names — with the final choice left to the equivalent (in those days) of flipping a coin! The current process does have one major advantage, however: it prevents undue influence from civil authorities. History — including very recent history — is full of examples of kings and governments trying to influence (or even force) the selection of particular candidates for bishop, often with unhappy results. Regardless if we were to tweak the current process, or even change it completely, I would definitely want to continue to see some mechanism for insulating the choice of successors to the apostles from undue outside pressure. It is all about freedom, including the freedom of the Church to pick her own leaders and ministers according to the standards of her Tradition.
As people are already aware, I am being named auxiliary bishop of Montreal. This means I am not the head bishop of that diocese, but that I will assist him in his duties as bishop. What is less known, however, is that even auxiliary bishops have a diocese. Mine is not in Canada, but in [...]
As people are already aware, I am being named auxiliary bishop of Montreal. This means I am not the head bishop of that diocese, but that I will assist him in his duties as bishop.
What is less known, however, is that even auxiliary bishops have a diocese. Mine is not in Canada, but in Italy: it is the diocese of Treba. Yes, people actually live there (today it is known as Trevi nel Lazio, in the province of Frosinone). However, I will not have any jurisdiction over them: I am what is called a titular bishop, not a diocesan bishop.
You may be wondering where these sorts of fictional dioceses come from. In every case the titular diocese was once a regular diocese with its own diocesan bishop. However, in most cases some war or other calamity either required the bishop to flee, or required the pastoral care of those people pass to someone else. As well, because travelling was often difficult some parts of the world had a great many small dioceses, which eventually got merged. One of these scenarios likely happened to my diocese at some point. Now that the jurisdiction of this territory has passed to another local Italian diocesan bishop, the title can be used to appoint an auxiliary bishop elsewhere in the world.
Such as myself, in Montreal.
I should point out that not everyone believes in the use of titles like this for auxiliary bishops — after all, could we not just appoint priests as auxiliary bishops without this sort of legal fiction? I do think that there is perhaps room for development in theology and canon law in this area, especially as we continue to explore the concept of a “local Church” in our ecumenical dialogue with the Orthodox.
All this being said, though, while I have no living members of the diocese to take care of, I do plan on saying mass on November 2 (the feast of All Souls) for the deceased members of that local Church. The Treba diocese did exist for 500+ years (longer than Canada!) and who knows? Maybe there is still a soul or two waiting for someone to pray for them and help them out of purgatory. Who better to offer that prayer than the bishop of that historical place?
I certainly plan on visiting the town of Trevi nel Lazio the next time I am in Italy, and I’d be thrilled to learn more about the history of the place. If anyone can help out with info, please drop me a line.
UPDATE (August 5): This text was sent to me by a historian of the episcopate:
Ancien évêché (Treba Augusta) attesté dès les Ve-VIe siècles, situé dans la province de Rome (Latium, sur le site de la moderne Trevi del Lazio), près des sources de l’Anio (affluent du Tibre), dans les monts Simbruini, à quelque 28 km NNO de Frosinone; il fut supprimé au milieu du XIe siècle (par Victor II ou Nicolas II, selon les sources), et réuni au diocèse d’Anagni et ultérieurement au territoire de l’abbaye de Subiaco. Apparaît pour la première fois dans l’AP 1971. À ne pas confondre avec Trevi, province de Pérouse en Ombrie, à quelque 15 km au nord de Spolète et 9 km SSE de Foligno, autre ancien évêché (datant de la fin du IIIe siècle), lui aussi maintenant disparu. (Moroni, G. Dizionario di erudizione storico-ecclesiastica, v. 80, 47-49)
