My Journal of the Council, by Yves Congar. Liturgical Press, 2012.

Want a nice little book to cozy up to during Advent?  Try this 979 page diary of Congar recorded during the  process of Vatican Council II. Day by day Congar took time to write what was happening on the floor of the Council. Even though his days were long with interruptions of persons seeking his counsel, he took great pains to let the world know what every cardinal, bishop, msgr, and theologian said publicly or said to him in private that day. This was at a time when Congar's health was failing and there were days when he had much pain and distress.

Some years before the Council opened, Yves Congar had been silenced and was not allowed to speak in certain places nor write anything for publication. But when the Council opened, the whole Catholic world needed his expertise and he was called on to be an expert for many church leaders.  He wrote, prepared  documents, reviewed other writings, critiqued articles, and gave numerous talks to church leaders on various topics. He found it difficult to say No to any request, and at times believed he was wasting his time when his advice was not sought. "Maybe I should just go home."  "Maybe I should not return for the next session of the Council."  But he didn't go home, and he did return for all the sessions.

Congar felt free enough to list the speakers he didn't like, those who bored him, those he thought were simply wrong. He pointed out those who were also bored and who left sessions to go to the bar. He attended countless business luncheons and stayed up late at night to answer questions and record input. He was free to tell a group that he thought the document was complete or needed more clarification, or should just be scrapped altogether. He did not hesitate to contradict even leading theologians. Congar had some sessions with the two Popes and gave his honest opinions about how he thought the Council was going and if it was accomplishing what he had hoped for. On many occasions, Congar lost his patience and simply went silent. Above all things, Congar wanted a new church looking forward, not backward, and he had to make this known to members of the Curia on various occasions.

Throughout the diary, Congar was intent on tabulating first and last names, and home dioceses of all persons with whom he had some connection.  In spite of intense fatigue and illness, he wrote daily but he made it known that he didn't want his notes published until the year 2000. His wishes were respected. 

(Thanks to Sr. Irene Hartman OP for this review)



Our Lady of Guadalupe: December 12

The feast in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe goes back to the 16th century. Chronicles of that period tell us the story.

A poor Indian named Cuauhtlatohuac was baptized and given the name Juan Diego. He was a 57-year-old widower and lived in a small village near Mexico City. On Saturday morning, December 9, 1531, he was on his way to a nearby barrio to attend Mass in honor of Our Lady.

He was walking by a hill called Tepeyac when he heard beautiful music like the warbling of birds. A radiant cloud appeared and within it a young Native American maiden dressed like an Aztec princess. The lady spoke to him in his own language and sent him to the bishop of Mexico, a Franciscan named Juan de Zumarraga. The bishop was to build a chapel in the place where the lady appeared.

Eventually the bishop told Juan Diego to have the lady give him a sign. About this same time Juan Diego's uncle became seriously ill. This led poor Diego to try to avoid the lady. The lady found Diego, nevertheless, assured him that his uncle would recover and provided roses for Juan to carry to the bishop in his cape or tilma.

When Juan Diego opened his tilma in the bishop's presence, the roses fell to the ground and the bishop sank to his knees. On Juan Diego's tilma appeared an image of Mary exactly as she had appeared at the hill of Tepeyac. It was December 12, 1531.