Three Pious Practices
for Every Devout Catholic
Gloria, Tea and Bee:
Recovering the Disreputable
three pious practices
no longer encounter and that had been not just customary, but instinctive
to Catholics — up to 40 or so years ago when the notion of piety fell
into disrepute, together with many of the customs long cherished — and
practiced — by Catholics, not for years, but for centuries. They are
simple things really, that we seldom see because ... well, they are
rarely done and yet of themselves, speak volumes of our loss (perhaps
a calculated deprivation, actually) of the sacred.
Let me give you both the long and the short of it. Here is the short:
We no longer bow our heads at the Name of Jesus (see Philippians
We no longer make the Sign of the Cross over our hearts or foreheads
when we pass by a Catholic Church where Christ dwells, really and
truly, in the Blessed Sacrament.
We no longer make reparation whenever we hear the Sacred Name
of Jesus uttered blasphemously.
We have lost collective memory of things instinctually Catholic. Much
of it has been superannuated by “policy” or simply jettisoned in what
became a totally unilateral effort at ecumenism in which the Church
embraced, en masse, much historically alien to it — with absolutely
no other denomination embracing anything remotely “Catholic” in return.
The Church surrendered much unique to its identity. The other “communions”
wisely surrendered nothing. This is not to say that ecumenism has failed.
It has only failed for Catholics — the only ones who have been resolute
in failing to recognize the obvious.
Now the long version, a vignette really, that captures much of what
once was — not long ago — is no more, and ought to be: (the Boston
Catholic Journal wishes to express its gratitude to P.G. of San
Francisco, formerly of Massachusetts, for the following contribution)
flood of memories
came rushing in upon me one
day recently at Mass.
I noticed an impeccably dressed elderly woman with stark
white hair nodding. Not just nodding, but nodding at what
I began to realize were predictable times. To be sure I
continued to observe this almost imperceptible movement
of her head downward until I became aware that it occurred
precisely each time the priest uttered the Name, "Jesus".
It did not occur when the priest uttered “Christ”, —- except
when it was preceded by “Jesus”.
I looked around the congregation and saw to my surprise
that this gentle gesture was accompanied by other nods —
mostly among what one “Minister of Music” described to me
as the “Grayheads”. I even observed it, much to my surprise,
in one young man. Out of a congregation of perhaps 300,
this almost imperceptible but curious behavior was instantiated
in perhaps 5 or 6. And always — always and only — at the
Name of Jesus.
Memories returned. Memories of my father. A tall man (to
me as a child, anyway) with a gentle voice; strong, in the
quiet way that only gentleness can be remarkably strong,
he walked beside me, straight and assured, proud but not
arrogant. Holding my hand we walked the several blocks to
Church with my younger brother alternately walking and being
carried effortlessly in the strong arms of my father. It
was Sunday morning 1957. Upon entering Church (Saint Clement’s),
he removed his hat and made sure we blessed ourselves properly.
In those days matrons wore fur stoles that still had the
eyes of the poor Minks in them, which endlessly fascinated
my brother, and frightened me. Dad would have to prevent
Mikey from poking at them during Mass.
It was here that I first remembered Dad nodding his head,
too. I did not know why ... but he did, and so did everyone
else. I remember asking him if his tie was too tight. He
put his fingers to his lips and pointed in the direction
of the Altar. As time went by I began to understand that
one simply nods ones head whenever the name of Jesus was
uttered. Catholics just did that. The priest did it. Dad
did it. Even Mikey did it! And so did Tommy Mason, the freshest
kid on the block! Soon it became second nature, in Church
and out of it. I remember my father gently scolding me once
when I deliberately said the “Holy Name” several times in
a row to make the boys around me nod their heads! I even
did it twice to Aunt Vickie!
But I also noticed two other peculiar things about Dad (and,
in fact, a lot of other Catholics back then). Whenever we
walked in front of a Church — even on the other side of
the street — Dad would make a tiny Sign of the Cross over
his heart in a hidden kind of way, and quietly utter :
“Gloria (presumably Aunt Gloria), Tea and Bee, Dom and knee”.
I thought it a cute riddle that rhymed, although I never
had an Uncle Dom. Later Dad unraveled the mystery to me
one day when I finally asked him who “Dom” was. I distinctly
remember that it was Winter, for Dad crouched down beside
me in the snow, threw his muffler around our faces to keep
out the snow and wind, and told me, “It is Latin, son.
“Gloria tibi, Domine”, which means, “Glory to You,
Lord Jesus.” Yup, even as he spoke he nodded his head when
he said “Jesus” — and so did I. I was learning. “Whenever
you pass in front of a Catholic Church you always say that,
son, and make the Sign of the Cross over your heart.” But
Mom does it over her forehead, I protested. “Well, Mamma
is right, too”, he said. “The important thing is that you
always do it, because Jesus is inside the Church.”
Walking, driving, on the bus — wherever — Dad did it and
I felt it was like a little secret between us, and, of course,
Jesus (yes, I just now bowed my head).
There was one other thing that Dad did that stayed with
me all my life. Whenever he spoke with someone who was either
angry or just crude and said something like, “Jesus Christ!
I told him he was a crook!” or, “Jesus, was I
angry!”, I noticed that Dad very unobtrusively did two
things! First, of course, he slightly bowed his head. Then
he would usually cross his arms and underneath them secretly
make a small, totally unnoticeable movement with his thumb,
pressing it against his heart.
It took a long time for me to catch on to that one.
Again, it was something he did so naturally and quietly
that it almost escaped me. “Dad”, I later asked, after he
had a very animated conversation with one of my uncles,
“what do you do with your thumb when people are angry, like
Uncle Mario was a few minutes ago? And why? This really
escaped me — but stayed with me all my life as perhaps no
other gesture he taught me.
He paused a moment, as though trying to look for simple
words to explain it.
“What”, he asked me, is the Third Commandment?” I told him,
“Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.”,
proud that I remembered it quickly (back then we had
to memorize them and Nuns taught us our Catechism — and
boy, you had better remember!)
“Well”, Dad continued, “Uncle Mario just used the Lord’s
Name in vain. Instead of just letting it pass as blasphemy
(I did not know what “blasphemy” exactly was at the time,
but knew it was not good) against God, I just “finished”
the sentence for him, adding, “Have mercy on us”
and striking my heart as we do at Mass. That way, it brings
something good out of a sin — I make it an opportunity to
ask God’s mercy both for Uncle Mario and for myself.”
I began to understand what kind of man my father really
was — and what kind of man I should try to be, too. So often
it is the little things a person does — especially when
they do not know that they are being observed — that leave
the most lasting impressions.
Dad would not recognize most Catholics today. Neither, I
think, would Saint Paul. What was second nature to them
seems to have disappeared altogether —except for a few of
those beautiful elderly women or old men at Mass.”
San Francisco, CA
say, not only do the laity
no longer exercise these pious and beautiful practices — but neither
do our priests or bishops. They use what Catholics once called the “Sacred
Name” with no reverence, attaching to it a significance apparently no
greater than any other name that passes from their lips. But it was
not always so. For many, many centuries it was not so. But piety has
become so … disreputable in our time. It is a term of disdain,
a concept fraught with an intolerable “otherworldliness” that no longer
has a place in our time, and in our world.
What P.G., I think, was alluding to when he wrote that Saint Paul would
probably not recognize most Catholic today, is this:
Saint Paul’s Epistle to the Philippians (2.5-11):
Iesu qui cum in
forma Dei esset non rapinam arbitratus est esse se aequalem
Deo. Sed semet ipsum exinanivit formam servi accipiens in
similitudinem hominum factus et habitu inventus ut homo.
Humiliavit semet ipsum factus oboediens usque ad mortem
mortem autem crucis. Propter quod et Deus illum exaltavit
et donavit illi nomen super omne nomen. Ut in nomine
Iesu omne genu flectat caelestium et terrestrium et infernorum.
Et omnis lingua confiteatur quia Dominus Iesus Christus
in gloria est Dei Patris.”
Who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to
be equal with God: But emptied himself, taking the form
of a servant, being made in the likeness of men, and in
habit found as a man. He humbled himself, becoming obedient
unto death, even to the death of the cross. For which cause
God also hath exalted him, and hath given him a name which
is above all names: That at the name of Jesus every
knee should bow, of those that are in heaven, on earth,
and under the earth. And that every tongue should
confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God
The very Angels in Heaven bow at the name of Jesus. And even the
demons in Hell.
But we are somehow more enlightened than that …somehow superior
to both — such that what is binding upon those in Heaven and Hell itself,
is not binding upon us. How vastly superior, enlightened, (sanctified?)
we have become in less than 50 years of the 2021 years of Christianity!
What a quantum leap! But I think not of grace — at least for us who
have been made “a little less than the Angels” who bow in Heaven at
the Sacred Name — and who have made ourselves less subject to God
than even the demons!
Think about it — and perhaps make a very ancient effort at what is “disreputable”
to the world and more in keeping with your beautiful Catholic identity.
Geoffrey K. Mondello
Boston Catholic Journal
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