| Rocky Mountain News |
| To print this page, select File then Print from your browser |
| URL: http://www.rockymountainnews.com/drmn/local/article/0,1299,DRMN_15_4711045,00.html |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Movie puts focus on order that puzzles even many Catholics
By Jean Torkelson, Rocky Mountain News
May 19, 2006
Denver investment banker Steve Markel recalls being with a group of colleagues when the chat turned to the latest book rage, The Da Vinci Code.
Somebody brought up the lurid assassin character who hailed from an odd Catholic organization called Opus Dei.
"I said, 'Well, I'm from Opus Dei.' They were just totally shocked. They've known me for 20 years."
" 'My gosh,' " one said, " 'you're just a normal person!' "
Today, when The Da Vinci Code movie opens nationwide, filmgoers will see a fictional, coldhearted Opus Dei killer who flagellates himself and takes his murderous marching orders from an evil bishop.
Contrast that with Markel, the -real Opus Dei member: a 48-year- old father of five who likes to golf, ski and fly-fish.
He'll reluctantly see the film "because I have friends in the world who will ask, and I want to be able to talk intelligently about it."
Another of the 20 or so Opus Dei members in Colorado is Clare Chavez, 33.
In her sunny Denver backyard last week, Chavez cuddled 6-week- old Pilar as Fernando, 6, Emmet, 4 and Maria 2, swarmed around the swing set her husband built.
A brief mommy moment arose when one son had a surprise encounter with worms.
"Emmet," she comforted him gently, "you like worms."
Forget assassins; the real work of Opus Dei, members say, is in what they call the sanctification of daily life.
"Whatever work we're doing," says Chavez, "it becomes the work of God."
On Tuesday, Chavez will join a panel at the Archdiocese of Denver to explain Opus Dei. Even other Catholics are puzzled by the organization, dogged since its beginnings 75 years ago by controversy, and once again by The Da Vinci Code.
Most-asked question: Is there really a device that members wear to "mortify" themselves?
Yes, it's a metal band called a cilice, found in religious supply stores. And yes, it's worn by Opus Dei's celibate members, including spokesman Brian Finnerty, 43, who lives with others in the headquarters in New York.
"It's an uncomfortable piece of metal worn around the thigh for a couple of hours a day," Finnerty says.
"But nobody would ever be encouraged to do something that would cause physical injury. It's something that causes discomfort as a token reminder of the love that Christ showed to us."
Such practices were common throughout religious orders before Vatican II, says Raymond Arroyo, author of Mother Angelica, a biography of the founder of a Catholic broadcast network.
"They would strike themselves lightly, token strikes, not painful unto themselves, but as a reminder of the sufferings of Christ."
In Opus Dei, the optional practice survived, though not for married members: "I've never even seen (a cilice)," Markel says.
That lay people could follow such disciplined lives was seen as controversial even when Opus Dei was formed in 1928 by the Spanish priest Jose Maria Escriva. Mortifications? Holiness? Such talk was seen as trespassing on the turf of priests.
The secular world, with its emphasis on equality and sexual freedom, has problems with Opus Dei, too. Men and women are segregated in prayer settings such as retreats. And there are two designated kinds of members, celibate and married.
Add in Spanish politics and the late Escriva's intensity - he's been declared a saint, but detractors still call him arrogant and authoritarian - and the ingredients are in place that make Opus Dei "the most controversial force in Roman Catholicism," writes John Allen, a writer for the National Catholic Reporter and author of four books, including Opus Dei, published in 2005 by Doubleday.
No smoking gun
Some hard-core critics were disappointed that Allen's heavily researched book, which explored Escriva's personality, warts and all, as well as the political machinations surrounding Opus Dei, failed to find a smoking gun.
"Where's the juice? The excitement? It's not there," says Chavez, referring to the book's findings. "There's nothing terribly flamboyant about what we do. It's everyday life. We're just trying to live it very well."
As Allen put it, "Think of it as the Guinness Extra Stout of the Catholic Church. It's a strong brew, definitely an acquired taste, and clearly not for everyone."
Clare Chavez was working with inner city youth in Chicago - one of a number of Opus Dei service projects - where she met her future husband Fernando, who graduated with a foreign service degree from Georgetown University.
Fernando, now a co-owner of a Denver recycling firm, never felt called to join Opus Dei, nor has Markel's wife Nancy, though both are supportive and take part in prayers and activities.
Chavez starts every day kneeling before a crucifix and a statue of Mary, offering up her day in God's service.
She goes to daily Mass - if Fernando can't stay with the kids, she brings all four with her. She says her rosary while nursing 6-week-old Pilar, or during the kids' nap time.
The contract she signed with Opus Dei - renewed every year - also obligates her to work in an apostolate, or outreach that helps people and spreads the gospel.
Members also agree to support Opus Dei financially, though no specific amount is required, she says.
Before joining Opus Dei, members spend 6 1/2 years in prayer and preparation, guided by a spiritual director and priests associated with Opus Dei.
"It's a long process because it's a divine vocation - and nobody wants to make a commitment they can't keep," says Chavez, a Chicago native with a degree in philosophy. "These obligations are not for the weak at heart."
Members say joining Opus Dei is a specific call from God, which may come as a quiet, inner conviction, growing over time: "Nobody tapped me on the shoulder - I didn't get flowers or anything," Chavez says, with a smile.
Brother followed sister
Markel came about it differently - 15 years ago his sister Mary Jane announced she had joined Opus Dei as one of the celibate members.
Her brother set out to learn more.
Over the years, he, too, discerned a call from God, but didn't join until three years ago: "I just liked the fact it seemed so natural - to live in the world and God was calling me in my position to be holy," Markel says.
Celibate members live in Opus Dei centers, where they hold down worldly jobs but pool their financial resources and live as a supportive family, Finnerty says.
Detractors, some of them former members, call the organization strict and cultlike. Finnerty says the organization has been open to all questions.
Opus Dei, he says, is a commitment freely made "every step of the way."
Tonight, the New York headquarters is scheduled to be the setting for Hardball with Chris Matthews. And when "a corny little video" produced by Opus Dei was ridiculed on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart, members chose to respond with humor, Finnerty says.
"You know you're breaking into pop culture when you're on Jon Stewart."
Or when you're playing a lead role in a best seller and a Hollywood movie.
What is Opus Dei?
Latin for "Work of God," it is an organization of lay people, advised by group of affiliated clergy, who seek to bring God into their daily lives.
• Founded: In 1928 by the Rev. Jose Maria Escriva in Madrid, Spain. Today, there are 85,000 members worldwide; 3,000 in U.S.
• First U.S. bishop associated with Opus Dei: Former Denver Auxiliary Bishop Jose Gomez, now Archbishop of San Antonio. Gomez was formerly chief vicar of Opus Dei for Texas.
• How to become a member: Requires more than six years of spiritual preparation with the organization. Members sign a contract agreeing to a daily life of prayer, Mass, good works and, according to their ability, financial support. The contract is considered for life, but is renewed every year on March 19, the Feast of St. Joseph.
• U.S. headquarters: 243 Lexington Ave., New York City; Web site: www.opusdei.org
• In Denver: Panel on Opus Dei and other aspects of The Da Vinci Code, 7 p.m. Tuesday at Bonfils Hall, the Archdiocese of Denver, 1300 S. Steele St. Free and open to the public.
Copyright 2006, Rocky Mountain News. All Rights Reserved.