The multiplication of devotional objects associated with Eucharistic Liturgy is one of the more visible effects of a restorationist trend has been developing in the Catholic Church since the pontificate of John Paul II.  A few common examples illustrate the nature of the trend. 

The General Instruction of the Roman Missal specifies that candles and a cross are to be placed “on or next to the Altar”; the Instruction also states that the cross and candles carried in the Entrance Procession at the beginning of the Liturgy fulfill this requirement. (117)  It has become common, however, to place an additional crucifix on the Altar in some Catholic churches, despite the fact both the Processional Cross and the Crucifix mounted permanently in all Roman Catholic church buildings suffice for the requirement in the GIRM.  An associated duplication of candles can be seen in some church buildings, as well.  More recently, the trend has expanded to include the re-introduction of the conopaeum, a woven net originally intended to keep flies out of the Tabernacle. (Carpentier, Supplément au Glossaire de Du Cange)  

The trend toward superfluous duplication and embellishment will almost certainly continue its current trajectory.  While it’s not possible to determine the object or action that the restorationists will focus on next, it’s easy to determine the cause of the trend.  The nature of the obsessive piety of the restorationists is elucidated by the parable in today’s Gospel. 

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus’ parables tend to be metaphors about himself and his adversaries.  For example, the parable of the rich man and Lazarus portrays Jesus as the poor, faithful Servant of God who attains eternal glory as the result of unjust suffering. (Lk 16:19-31)  The parable in today’s Gospel reading is also about Jesus and his adversaries; in this case, the adversaries are some Pharisees and scribes who complained that he welcomed sinners and ate with them. (Lk 15:2)   

In the parable, the prodigal was guilty of one of the worst imaginable sins: in a culture that prized image and reputation above all else, the prodigal dishonored and embarrassed his family.  The prodigal’s father restored the family’s honor by restoring the sinful son to his inherited status.  The prodigal’s brother, on the other hand, refused to be reconciled and, thereby, brought irremediable dishonor to the family. 

The father in the parable represents Jesus and/or God’s will to redeem all creatures.  The intransigent brother represents the Pharisees and scribes who would deny to sinners the possibility of repentance and reform.  The prodigal brother represents the sinners who repented because of Jesus’ teaching and/or Jesus himself who, in Paul’s words, was made “to be sin for us.” (2 Cor 5:21) 

Regardless of how one assigns identities to the various roles in the parable, however, the meaning of the parable remains the same.  Some of the religious leaders in Jerusalem were so self-righteous that they refused to admit that anyone who did not follow their stringent religious and moral teachings could be granted God’s mercy.  Jesus judged these religious leaders to be worse sinners than those who failed to comply with the requirements of the Law of Moses because of ignorance or complacency.   

According to Jesus, the self-righteousness of the Pharisees and scribes was the result of putting faith in cultural values rather than revealed truth. (Lk 11:37-52)  This common mistake continues today in both organized religion and privatized spirituality.    Placing one’s religious faith in something that does not merit ultimate trust is the equivalent of the sin of the intransigent elder brother; it is worst betrayal imaginable. 

All created things are good, but they are good only to a finite degree.  Created things can be trusted, but only conditionally.  This is because even the finest, most precious created thing is no more than a thing and created; religious faith is authentic when it is placed in the eternal rather than the ephemeral.  As culture is an artifact of human society, it is created, not divinely revealed, and therefore, not an appropriate object for religious faith.   

The Pharisees and scribes placed their ultimate trust in the cultural experiences that afforded them comfort and consolation.  As appealing as this practice might be, it falls fatally short of trust in God.  The same is true of the trend toward restorationism in the Church today.  It is comforting and non-challenging but centered on experiences that can be controlled and directed at one’s whim.  The object of belief, in this case, is not God but created things, and this is why the trend will continue to progress. 

An authentic faith in God affords one the peace of mind necessary to “deal with the things of this passing world in such a way as to hold fast to the things that endure forever.” (Preface II of Lent, cf. Lk 16:1-13)  When one puts one’s religious faith in created things, however, the experience is unavoidably disappointing; one will always feel the need to do more, have more, and accumulate more because the goodness of created things is naturally limited.  Trust placed in created things will never be stable or sufficient to afford one peace of mind.   

The current restorationist trend is an example of the error of trusting in created things.  The number of redundant devotional objects and acts will continue to multiply because those who place their trust in them will never find them completely satisfying.  As they don’t experience the peace of mind that should be derived from religious practice, participants in this trend will continue to feel compelled to expand the reach of their pious activities, acquisitions, and possessions. 

There is, of course, an alternative to the endless and futile pursuit of satisfaction from things that will never satisfy.  Instead of imitating the intransigent brother who worried about his wants and needs (Lk 15:29-30), one can imitate the prodigal who had nothing to claim as his own. (Lk 15:14) 

The prodigal knew he had no merits on which to base a request for forgiveness. (Lk 15:21)  Crucially, he also knew that his poverty would have no bearing on his father’s decision to welcome him home.  The prodigal repented of the personal limitations that led him to dishonor his family, and the father exercised true mercy, which is both unmerited and unlimited. 

While the details of the parable can be interpreted in multiple ways, the meaning of the parable needs very little interpretation.  God exercises unlimited and unmerited mercy toward God’s creation, and one finds oneself the subject of this mercy through humility rather than through achievement or possessions. 

Not all Catholics participate in the trend toward more, and more complex, devotional practices, but all Catholics are called to repent of trusting in created things.  The purpose of the Lenten practices of fasting, almsgiving, prayer, and penance is to teach one to rely less on the things that comprise one’s personal definition of righteousness and more on Jesus’ definition of righteousness as trusting solely in God’s mercy.  It is easily possible for any person to experience God’s mercy in the way the prodigal experienced the father’s mercy.  One is required only to abandon attempts to attract God’s attention and instead, to trust that God’s mercy is wider and deeper than one can possibly imagine.