So with all due respect to my dad, I'd never thought I'd say this...my dad is a great writer! And he needs to get published! Sure, it's taken him a good fifty years an' what-all to gettin' it sorted all out down below, but now-a see hyar what kind-a yarn tellin' this ol' fox is 'capable uv:
"Well sir, Ah was jest 'bout ta creep outa there in low-range when Ah got to thinkin. This hyar'd be a good spot to check the underside a ol' Gramps's fer any dee-regularities, what with the extra standin room under thar. So Ah grabbed mah flashlight an reached fer the door handle but it weren't there. So Ah looked 'round an found Ah was sittin on it. So Ah figgered that mehbe it wadn't such a good idea ta open that door at this partic'lar angle. Ah mean thar's prob'ly a ten foot drop a waitin out thar. An hyar Ah am an older gent, alone in the dark a sittin in a truk that's perched pre-carius a half mile up a steep an ragged gulley from a possible rocky water landin an no help fer fifty miles. Ah ain't even got no dawg ta whine over me. So discretion being the better part a valor, Ah'll just have ta go out t'other door."
And that's before anything really happens!
I guess t'other part-a this that really tickles mah hide is that the ol' feller asked me, his weak an' sickly girl-child, fer help with his hyar, what they call it, creatin' process that all writers and such-like do, and hyar ah am, jes' a mean and lowly housewife an' all. So ah'm a mite tickled by the ol' gent ya see, an' ah'm right grateful to have my o-pinyuns asked fer.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Friday, December 01, 2006
Our Papa Celebrates Mass in Ephesus
Just saw this video on JimmyAkin.org and thought I'd share it with ya'll. I don't know how to put YouTube vids on my blog, so if you click on the link below it will take you to Jimmy's blog and you can watch it there.
Several things struck me about this video. Every time an image of the Pope appears, whether it's on the TV or in a magazine--like this week's cover of Time, the atmosphere around him is electric. I mean, if spiritual graces were visibly manifested as something like...lightning bolts, for instance, he'd be a mass of trailing arcs and sparks. In contrast, I'd be something like that static-y thing that happens when you open your dryer.
Next, watch how the people treat him. I mean, no matter how much you disagree with Catholicism, you cannot argue that this is the one person on Earth who could actually "confront Islam," like it said on the magazine cover. Then watch how he treats the consecrated Host. There is no doubt in my mind that he thinks of himself as the lowliest servant of Christ. And yet, what does it do to a man to consecrate, handle, and consume the Body and Blood of Christ over a lifetime? You can see the love in his hands and face. He does not wear the regalia of a king for his own glory. He does it for the glory of his King.
BTW, there's a good close-up of a woman wearing a headcovering in the vid, although most of the women are not wearing one.
CHECK IT OUT.
Several things struck me about this video. Every time an image of the Pope appears, whether it's on the TV or in a magazine--like this week's cover of Time, the atmosphere around him is electric. I mean, if spiritual graces were visibly manifested as something like...lightning bolts, for instance, he'd be a mass of trailing arcs and sparks. In contrast, I'd be something like that static-y thing that happens when you open your dryer.
Next, watch how the people treat him. I mean, no matter how much you disagree with Catholicism, you cannot argue that this is the one person on Earth who could actually "confront Islam," like it said on the magazine cover. Then watch how he treats the consecrated Host. There is no doubt in my mind that he thinks of himself as the lowliest servant of Christ. And yet, what does it do to a man to consecrate, handle, and consume the Body and Blood of Christ over a lifetime? You can see the love in his hands and face. He does not wear the regalia of a king for his own glory. He does it for the glory of his King.
BTW, there's a good close-up of a woman wearing a headcovering in the vid, although most of the women are not wearing one.
CHECK IT OUT.
Monday, November 13, 2006
If this is pride, it's a funny way to go about it
Today I had to go to Lowe's, even though the kids and I are still sick, and the last thing I want is for them to get their gooey little hands all over a germy shopping cart. But my special order stain was in, and since this door job we're trying to do is more than three months overdue, I had to stuff everybody in the van and just go do it.
BUT before I could leave the house, I had to find a top/skirt/shoe/coat combo that would work with the weather and with my own ego. As I struggled with my closet on this, I had to ask myself (again) just why I am going through this. What is so wrong with just throwing on some jeans? It's not like there's anybody at Lowe's who gives a darn about what they're wearing (Lowe's is a lot like Wal-Mart in that respect). And I don't want to look like I'm headed to church. But it's hard to go casual in a skirt, especially in November. I wanted to look modest (thus the skirt) but also sporty and Northwest-y enough to "pass muster" with the fashion critics lodged in my head.
Was I falling victim to pride? I thought about it...and concluded that while my own desire to achieve a certain "look" was probably prideful, it would have been just as prideful to throw on the jeans and then smirk at everybody in the store who didn't look as "put together" as I did, or whose butts looked bigger in their pants, or whatever. I discovered that there's always pride, no matter what we're wearing. If anything, wearing the skirt humbles me because I can't be all that my ego wants, being constrained by the modesty standards.
But it made me think again about this whole issue of pride, and whether dressing according to modesty principles is "prideful" because dressing differently tends to attract attention.
This is, perhaps, the biggest reason why Christians don't adopt more conservative dress. Some do, and I'm not trying to exclude them. But for many people in the pews, the last thing they want to do is stick out in the crowd. Part of it is human nature. Heck, even animals try to blend in with their environment--it's a form of self-defense for them, and for us, too. However much we proclaim that we have a "free" country and that people can do whatever they want to do, it's the rare person that swims upstream in the way they dress. For some, this may be a source of pride, particularly if done in a rebellious spirit...like the first hippies who wore their hair long, or when women burned their bras. Their flinging off of social mores in dress was done to attract attention, to make a statement, and to send out a big Boston raspberry to the establishment.
But now our society is full of "hippies" who think they are swimming upstream by their way-out modes of dress, so the image has become rather commonplace. And I would say that the last thing this new hippie generation is doing by their dress is making a statement, political or otherwise. They are just trying to fit in with a particular group that they feel best represents their beliefs and opinions. And there's really nothing wrong with that. I wouldn't accuse them of pride at all, even if they felt "proud" of their particular group. It's OK to have pride in who you are. Some people, like Erykah Badu--who often wears a very large and very distinctive African headdress--wear garments that remind themselves (and others) of their roots, and there's no sin in that. Many Americans, out of political correctness, would fall all over themselves to welcome such people and make them feel comfortable, because we've been told that they have a right to express themselves.
What then, are we to think about those among us who adopt a distinctive dress because of religion? Are they way-out? Are they motivated by rebelliousness, or pride? On the contrary, whenever I see a Muslim man in a turban or a woman in a hijab, the last thing I think they are doing is being prideful. In some countries where certain religions are persecuted, people may not even be able to wear distinctive religious garments. We should be glad that Muslims are free to wear what they want.
Some Orthodox Jewish women practice a form of modesty called tznius, which is very strict and regulated. They delineate which areas of the woman's actual bone structure are to be covered or uncovered. Granted, it may not exactly be popular in this country, but is there a big outcry over it? No, the woman's beliefs are simply accepted, because she has a right to express her culture and her religion, and the last thing anybody wants to be accused of is anti-Semitism. Even the babushka ladies at the grocery store remind us that there are many eastern cultures that are making their home here in the United States, and we have a duty to be hospitable and welcoming to these new immigrants.
So now we come to that great silent religion, Christianity. We are the only religion that cannot express ourselves through dress without some form of persecution. But, oddly enough, the persecution tends to come from fellow Christians. Early on in the Reformation, "clerical" garb was quickly discarded by the reformers, because it smacked of Catholicism. Priests and religious have always made easy targets because of the way they dress. Even today, laws that punish religious garb--especially that of Catholics--are in effect or on the table in France and India. And do you think that, left to themselves, they would have wanted it that way? Probably not. There may be nothing harder to bear in the life of a priest than the constant stares, comments, and inevitable questions that arise because of his Roman collar.
Obviously there is a great good in the distinctive dress of priests and religious, as there is in celibacy, or the Church would not have decreed it. For some, the sight of a man or woman of God gives them great comfort and hope, even if they are not Christian. At least there is a person who stands up for what he or she believes and is available to others' needs, as it says in the Gospel. While Blessed Mother Theresa may have adopted her plain white sari because it was common, and poor, it has become the uniform of an army--her Missionaries of Charity. When a poor person looks up out of a gutter and sees that white sari, he sees Mother--and when he sees her, he sees the hand of God.
And I don't think that a laywoman of the Church who gradually transitions her wardrobe over to skirts, jumpers, and dresses is going to incite a lot of turmoil in other people's hearts. Despite Gospel ideals, human nature drives people to be far more concerned about themselves than they ever would be about somebody else's minute details of dress. If guys in the NFL can have dreadlocks cascading out of their helmets, it should not be a violation of anybody else's sensibilities if I put on a wool plaid skirt and go out into the rain.
Is dressing "differently," then, a prideful act? As I hope I have already proved, it can be if done in an in-your-face way, or for specious reasons. Or it can be one of the most humbling things you can do. I don't think anybody who wears offbeat dress for a well-thought-out reason is acting out of deadly sin-type pride. It can be just as dangerous to your soul to "blend in." You could make the argument that those who run to keep up with the latest fashion are falling victim to pride. You could say that aging women who dye their hair and teeth and wear lots of makeup are falling prey to pride. What about people who go to such great lengths to achieve and keep a perfect body? What about people who drive Hummers? Once you start pointing that finger, there is no end to it. The truth is that we are all battling pride in some form or another. And there is no telling, just by looking, who it is. I think the most dangerous thing we can do is second-guess people's motives for how they dress or act. We just don't know.
And when it comes to various stripes of Christian who are struggling to bring back more conservative and graceful modes of dress, in line with their own cultures and religious heritage--they should be encouraged rather than criticized. We may be a small minority, and our form of dress may not be everybody's cup of tea, but we are within our rights in this country, and we should use them while we have them, lest even what we have be taken away.
BUT before I could leave the house, I had to find a top/skirt/shoe/coat combo that would work with the weather and with my own ego. As I struggled with my closet on this, I had to ask myself (again) just why I am going through this. What is so wrong with just throwing on some jeans? It's not like there's anybody at Lowe's who gives a darn about what they're wearing (Lowe's is a lot like Wal-Mart in that respect). And I don't want to look like I'm headed to church. But it's hard to go casual in a skirt, especially in November. I wanted to look modest (thus the skirt) but also sporty and Northwest-y enough to "pass muster" with the fashion critics lodged in my head.
Was I falling victim to pride? I thought about it...and concluded that while my own desire to achieve a certain "look" was probably prideful, it would have been just as prideful to throw on the jeans and then smirk at everybody in the store who didn't look as "put together" as I did, or whose butts looked bigger in their pants, or whatever. I discovered that there's always pride, no matter what we're wearing. If anything, wearing the skirt humbles me because I can't be all that my ego wants, being constrained by the modesty standards.
But it made me think again about this whole issue of pride, and whether dressing according to modesty principles is "prideful" because dressing differently tends to attract attention.
This is, perhaps, the biggest reason why Christians don't adopt more conservative dress. Some do, and I'm not trying to exclude them. But for many people in the pews, the last thing they want to do is stick out in the crowd. Part of it is human nature. Heck, even animals try to blend in with their environment--it's a form of self-defense for them, and for us, too. However much we proclaim that we have a "free" country and that people can do whatever they want to do, it's the rare person that swims upstream in the way they dress. For some, this may be a source of pride, particularly if done in a rebellious spirit...like the first hippies who wore their hair long, or when women burned their bras. Their flinging off of social mores in dress was done to attract attention, to make a statement, and to send out a big Boston raspberry to the establishment.
But now our society is full of "hippies" who think they are swimming upstream by their way-out modes of dress, so the image has become rather commonplace. And I would say that the last thing this new hippie generation is doing by their dress is making a statement, political or otherwise. They are just trying to fit in with a particular group that they feel best represents their beliefs and opinions. And there's really nothing wrong with that. I wouldn't accuse them of pride at all, even if they felt "proud" of their particular group. It's OK to have pride in who you are. Some people, like Erykah Badu--who often wears a very large and very distinctive African headdress--wear garments that remind themselves (and others) of their roots, and there's no sin in that. Many Americans, out of political correctness, would fall all over themselves to welcome such people and make them feel comfortable, because we've been told that they have a right to express themselves.
What then, are we to think about those among us who adopt a distinctive dress because of religion? Are they way-out? Are they motivated by rebelliousness, or pride? On the contrary, whenever I see a Muslim man in a turban or a woman in a hijab, the last thing I think they are doing is being prideful. In some countries where certain religions are persecuted, people may not even be able to wear distinctive religious garments. We should be glad that Muslims are free to wear what they want.
Some Orthodox Jewish women practice a form of modesty called tznius, which is very strict and regulated. They delineate which areas of the woman's actual bone structure are to be covered or uncovered. Granted, it may not exactly be popular in this country, but is there a big outcry over it? No, the woman's beliefs are simply accepted, because she has a right to express her culture and her religion, and the last thing anybody wants to be accused of is anti-Semitism. Even the babushka ladies at the grocery store remind us that there are many eastern cultures that are making their home here in the United States, and we have a duty to be hospitable and welcoming to these new immigrants.
So now we come to that great silent religion, Christianity. We are the only religion that cannot express ourselves through dress without some form of persecution. But, oddly enough, the persecution tends to come from fellow Christians. Early on in the Reformation, "clerical" garb was quickly discarded by the reformers, because it smacked of Catholicism. Priests and religious have always made easy targets because of the way they dress. Even today, laws that punish religious garb--especially that of Catholics--are in effect or on the table in France and India. And do you think that, left to themselves, they would have wanted it that way? Probably not. There may be nothing harder to bear in the life of a priest than the constant stares, comments, and inevitable questions that arise because of his Roman collar.
Obviously there is a great good in the distinctive dress of priests and religious, as there is in celibacy, or the Church would not have decreed it. For some, the sight of a man or woman of God gives them great comfort and hope, even if they are not Christian. At least there is a person who stands up for what he or she believes and is available to others' needs, as it says in the Gospel. While Blessed Mother Theresa may have adopted her plain white sari because it was common, and poor, it has become the uniform of an army--her Missionaries of Charity. When a poor person looks up out of a gutter and sees that white sari, he sees Mother--and when he sees her, he sees the hand of God.
And I don't think that a laywoman of the Church who gradually transitions her wardrobe over to skirts, jumpers, and dresses is going to incite a lot of turmoil in other people's hearts. Despite Gospel ideals, human nature drives people to be far more concerned about themselves than they ever would be about somebody else's minute details of dress. If guys in the NFL can have dreadlocks cascading out of their helmets, it should not be a violation of anybody else's sensibilities if I put on a wool plaid skirt and go out into the rain.
Is dressing "differently," then, a prideful act? As I hope I have already proved, it can be if done in an in-your-face way, or for specious reasons. Or it can be one of the most humbling things you can do. I don't think anybody who wears offbeat dress for a well-thought-out reason is acting out of deadly sin-type pride. It can be just as dangerous to your soul to "blend in." You could make the argument that those who run to keep up with the latest fashion are falling victim to pride. You could say that aging women who dye their hair and teeth and wear lots of makeup are falling prey to pride. What about people who go to such great lengths to achieve and keep a perfect body? What about people who drive Hummers? Once you start pointing that finger, there is no end to it. The truth is that we are all battling pride in some form or another. And there is no telling, just by looking, who it is. I think the most dangerous thing we can do is second-guess people's motives for how they dress or act. We just don't know.
And when it comes to various stripes of Christian who are struggling to bring back more conservative and graceful modes of dress, in line with their own cultures and religious heritage--they should be encouraged rather than criticized. We may be a small minority, and our form of dress may not be everybody's cup of tea, but we are within our rights in this country, and we should use them while we have them, lest even what we have be taken away.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
One Ugly Baby
Not to toot my own horn or anything, but while I've never considered myself especially attractive, I'm constantly told that I have cute kids (must be my husband's half of the equation). This is Tom, who's one year old, and in this picture he is hanging onto the coffee table for the first time. Yeehaw!
Now this is what happens when my little guy gets his hands onto a dairy product.
Welcome to the world of food allergies. I used to do a lot of reading on this type of thing, when I was going through my "food fads" in college. But now I have absolutely no interest in the subject. When I was in the military, I came to respect ordinary food, so I now look askance at all the "health food" that's out nowadays and their claims to be fat-free, wheat-free, vegan, organic, or whatever. I never thought I would have a baby who couldn't do dairy. So now I have to cudgel my brain to figure out what to do with this baby. We've been feeding him soy formula, which he does OK on. I mean, would you put milk in his mouth if you saw it do this to his face?
My midwife insisted that it was I who caused the allergy by giving Tom his first taste of cow formula when I put his first bottle in his mouth at the nine month mark. I'm still not talking to her. My doctor says he's probably not allergic to it, but then again, she's never seen him like this. To me, this screams, "I HAVE A FOOD ALLERGY! DO NOT FEED ME THIS STUFF!"
So what's a concerned mother to do? He is now a year old, and I am getting really sick of buying $40 worth of formula at Wal-Mart every month. And yet, store-bought soy milk in the aseptic containers is almost as expensive, and not nearly as fortified as the powdered stuff. The cheapest I've been able to find it is for $1.25 a quart, if I buy it by the case on markdown.
The other wrinkle to this situation was the discovery of my own intolerance of dairy. So now I consume almost a quart a day, not counting what Tom would need. In desperation, I asked the Hillbilly Housewife what to do.
Her answer rocked my socks!
The solution is to buy a thing called a soy milk maker, which is apparently very popular in Japan and other Asian cultures that do a lot with soy. She linked to the Sanlinx web page where I found and ordered my new toy. While the machine costs $90 to $120, it pays for itself very quickly, since you can get soybeans for a song. It also comes with a one-year warranty, and right now they're offering a promotional two-year warranty, which I got when I ordered my SoyaPower. The thing that ultimately convinced me were all the unsolicited testimonials on their site, including some people who had a problem with their machine or a part and were satisfied with the service.
Making your own soy milk isn't as simple as making coffee, however. You soak the beans for at least 6 hours, then rinse and put them in the filter basket. You fill the canister up to the mark (about 1.8 quarts), then put the whole thing together and press a button. That's the simplest part. The machine heats the water, the blade pulverizes the beans, the cycle runs about 15 minutes, and beeps when it's done. Then you pull the top off and clean the heater element and blade. The filter you pull off and either save or discard the mashed bean by-product inside (hint: don't throw it away, lots of good uses for it). Then you have to clean the filter. The filter is not easy to clean. Your best bet is to buy the Magic Cleaner that they sell, or be like me and make the little sample they give you last as long as possible. You soak the filter in the solution, and next day it's pristine and ready to use again. Meanwhile, you pour the soy milk into a clean container and flavor it with sugar or vanilla or whatever you want to put in it. It takes some finagling to get a comparable taste to the store-bought stuff, if that's what you like. You don't need to buy the special "Laura" beans that they keep touting. One thing I did extra that really helps the texture is that I filter the final product through a paper towel in a Brita pitcher. Otherwise, there is a substantial amount of grit that gets through the filter.
For now I am giving Tom half soy formula and half soy milk from the SoyaPower. When the formula runs out, I'll give him all soy milk with maybe a dose of Poly-Vi-Sol a day. Along with his Claritin.
Friday, November 03, 2006
A Primer on Virtue, or...how not to feel like a failure
Geez, I wish I could think of more light-hearted things to post about. Maybe it's the weather, and the fact that my neck of the woods tends to be clouded over for more than half the year. In summertime, you only have to paint your toenails once and you could probably get through the whole sandal season.
This is the time of year when people tend to retreat into their homes, turn on the tube, and eat lots of treats. Lately I've been ruminating, a dangerous thing to do in winter when you have two little tykes and don't get out much. My bad habit is to start thinking about all the things that have "gone wrong" and all the things I should have done to prevent it. Like, I could have married another man to prevent Dean's gall bladder surgery and us having to pay the medical bills. Or how it was my fault we bought this house and now I can't get out from under all our home improvement projects.
It is so distressing when you have all these thoughts and plans and expectations built up about what's going to happen--and then something unforseen (and potentially disastrous) blows them all into smithereens. How do you get through this kind of thing, mentally? How do you avoid the thought that it's somehow all YOUR fault? Or that God has turned his face away, as it says so many times in the Psalms?
You could think about how much better you've got it than so many other people in the world. What I mean to say is, you could think things like, "At least we have a roof over our heads," "At least we have our health" (Oops! You can't think that unless everybody is healthy!), "At least we live in a free country" (even that is up for debate). Oh well, you get the drift. But that is a pretty negative way of looking at things, and it only makes me feel worse. Is there a more positive way to deal with stress and upset?
1. You could read the lives of the saints. Yes, 'tis the season to go and get yerself a volume of those, if they're not already on your shelf. Personally, I think saints are fascinating. Their lives were so difficult that you have to admire the fact that they got through it at all, and to top it off, made it to heaven to boot. Plus they are comfortably distant, so you aren't guilt-ridden over the fact that they are alive somewhere in the world suffering while you're making banana bread.
2. Read up on the virtues, and teach them to your kids. Wikipedia is a pretty good place to start to research something, even Catholic things. They list the cardinal virtues as: prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. The theological virtues are faith, hope, and love--as in charity (it has been posited that only Christians can have these virtues). Alternatively, you could list out the seven deadly sins and then look to their antitheses: lust/chastity, gluttony/moderation, greed/generosity, sloth/zeal, wrath/meekness, envy/charity, and pride/humility. This would also make a good examination of conscience. Instead of trying to figure out what deadly sin you committed, you could ask yourself, "How did I fail to embody the virtues?"
3. Remind yourself that success in God's eyes is not success in the eyes of the world. Oh, how difficult this is! Don't think I am sitting here all smug thinking I've got the answers to everything. I am struggling just as much as anybody--I just choose to embarrass myself by committing it to a literary format. What I mean is, we have to keep telling ourselves that the Christian ideal has never been to put our kids through college and retire with fat bank accounts. Even the saints who have gone out into the wilderness to convert pagans, only to be murdered, were a smashing success in God's eyes. Even Mother Theresa (pray for us!) would have been a success in God's eyes if she never even opened one Missionaries of Charity convent. Because she would have been doing what He asked.
When things start going "wrong," what we need to do is to start examining ourselves and asking, "Am I living the virtues today? Which ones am I great at? Which ones are missing from my life?" If we could focus more on whether we are acting according to the virtues, then when disaster strikes we can at least tell ourselves we acted in the right way according to right intentions. The rest is up to God.
This is the time of year when people tend to retreat into their homes, turn on the tube, and eat lots of treats. Lately I've been ruminating, a dangerous thing to do in winter when you have two little tykes and don't get out much. My bad habit is to start thinking about all the things that have "gone wrong" and all the things I should have done to prevent it. Like, I could have married another man to prevent Dean's gall bladder surgery and us having to pay the medical bills. Or how it was my fault we bought this house and now I can't get out from under all our home improvement projects.
It is so distressing when you have all these thoughts and plans and expectations built up about what's going to happen--and then something unforseen (and potentially disastrous) blows them all into smithereens. How do you get through this kind of thing, mentally? How do you avoid the thought that it's somehow all YOUR fault? Or that God has turned his face away, as it says so many times in the Psalms?
You could think about how much better you've got it than so many other people in the world. What I mean to say is, you could think things like, "At least we have a roof over our heads," "At least we have our health" (Oops! You can't think that unless everybody is healthy!), "At least we live in a free country" (even that is up for debate). Oh well, you get the drift. But that is a pretty negative way of looking at things, and it only makes me feel worse. Is there a more positive way to deal with stress and upset?
1. You could read the lives of the saints. Yes, 'tis the season to go and get yerself a volume of those, if they're not already on your shelf. Personally, I think saints are fascinating. Their lives were so difficult that you have to admire the fact that they got through it at all, and to top it off, made it to heaven to boot. Plus they are comfortably distant, so you aren't guilt-ridden over the fact that they are alive somewhere in the world suffering while you're making banana bread.
2. Read up on the virtues, and teach them to your kids. Wikipedia is a pretty good place to start to research something, even Catholic things. They list the cardinal virtues as: prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. The theological virtues are faith, hope, and love--as in charity (it has been posited that only Christians can have these virtues). Alternatively, you could list out the seven deadly sins and then look to their antitheses: lust/chastity, gluttony/moderation, greed/generosity, sloth/zeal, wrath/meekness, envy/charity, and pride/humility. This would also make a good examination of conscience. Instead of trying to figure out what deadly sin you committed, you could ask yourself, "How did I fail to embody the virtues?"
3. Remind yourself that success in God's eyes is not success in the eyes of the world. Oh, how difficult this is! Don't think I am sitting here all smug thinking I've got the answers to everything. I am struggling just as much as anybody--I just choose to embarrass myself by committing it to a literary format. What I mean is, we have to keep telling ourselves that the Christian ideal has never been to put our kids through college and retire with fat bank accounts. Even the saints who have gone out into the wilderness to convert pagans, only to be murdered, were a smashing success in God's eyes. Even Mother Theresa (pray for us!) would have been a success in God's eyes if she never even opened one Missionaries of Charity convent. Because she would have been doing what He asked.
When things start going "wrong," what we need to do is to start examining ourselves and asking, "Am I living the virtues today? Which ones am I great at? Which ones are missing from my life?" If we could focus more on whether we are acting according to the virtues, then when disaster strikes we can at least tell ourselves we acted in the right way according to right intentions. The rest is up to God.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Another $5,000 hospital bill!!
Sisters, please pray for us and for our little boy's health. And please vote for anything that will reduce health care costs! I hate money!
Veiling: update, apology, and explanation
Of my very few (but very appreciated) readers, some sharper-eyed ones may have noticed that the two posts "Taking the Veil" and "Taking the Veil...Part II" are gone. I originally wrote those posts after reading a whole raft of info on the issue of mantilla-wearing at Mass, concluding that there must be some kind of holdover from the 1917 Code of Canon Law requiring the wearing of the veil at Mass that the post-Vatican II Church just kept mum about.
In my pride, I felt that Jimmy Akin needed to be corrected, so I informed him of my disagreement with his interpretation of canon law on the subject, citing some traditionalist-oriented web sites as my sources.
Then I read all the discussion threads I could find on Catholic.com pertaining to this subject--and saw that all the veil advocates GOT ABSOLUTELY TROUNCED when they trotted out their arguments for veiling as required by canon law. I modified my opinion to accommodate the new information...which is basically that a satisfactory case for veiling being some kind of back-door requirement of the Church CANNOT BE MADE in such a way that it will be taken seriously. The veil has been consigned to the realm of "personal devotion."
Sadly, I discovered that even Magisterium-loving Catholics are divided into little subcamps. The Catholic Answers/EWTN crowd are called the "neo-cons" and the Latin Mass-loving, mantilla wearing (but not SSPX) crowd are called the traditionalists, or simply "trads" for short. This may not come as much of a shock to anyone but me, but I got really depressed over the whole thing. Can't we all just be Catholic, follow the Magisterium, and get along?
So I took my posts down, wrote a shamefaced little apology e-mail to Jimmy and am now lurking around at jimmyakin.org, afraid to show my moniker.
So by way of explanation, my goal here is to take a little snapshot of my current thinking on mantillas, or headcovering--which is an umbrella term for all kinds of coverings worn in all kinds of situations by all kinds of well-meaning women, be they Christian, Jewish, or Muslim (there is probably a Master's thesis lurking in here).
1. This is a huge issue. I have been reading for weeks, unable to piece together a cohesive Catholic perspective on the whole thing. Aside from the do-we-wear-one-at-Mass-or-not controversy, there are varying interpretations of I Corinthians 11, some of which dismiss the whole thing as an example of Paul just being overzealous, the Corinthians being a special case, or veiling being just a cultural practice specific to the times. While our sola scriptura sisters have a refreshing clarity when it comes to seeing this command jump out at them from Scripture, the Catholics shrink back and cry, "Not unless the Pope tells me to...preferably in person!"
2. If you do decide to wear a headcovering...there is NO GUIDANCE. This is a situation in which it would be a relief to be Amish, or CCF, where they tell you what type of headcovering you are to wear and what color and that's that. If you are Catholic, not only do you have no official direction from the Church on this, you have the active animosity of a large contingent of people who have/had a vested interest in "modernizing" the Church, and here you are drawing attention to yourself and implicitly criticizing their "reforms"-- and that's if you're only wearing a covering at Mass. What if you start showing up to all the non-Mass parish events in your covering? What happens when your lapsed-Catholic relatives get a gander at you come Thanksgiving? How do you explain your "new look" to your few remaining Protestant friends who don't really know anything about the Church in the first place? Right now there are too many unanswered questions for me to start wearing a headcovering full-time, although my heart is drawn to the practice.
3. I am afraid I'll be sending the wrong message...spreading confusion, instead of the gospel. This is the real kicker. We must be in the last, last days, because these days when somebody wants to appear overtly religious, they are either ignored or persecuted (and yes, I consider staring to be a form of persecution--it says, "Who do you think you are? I've got my eye on you!") You will quickly find out what people think of your faith when you wear it on your head. "You look Amish with that thing on your head," said my talkative neighbor Joe when he saw my black kerchief. Note: he didn't say, "Wow, I so appreciate your wonderful Catholic and Christian witness! You are making me think about the Lord!" Now times this reaction by twenty and this is what you will have to endure every day, every week, every year of your life until the end. It is not something to be taken on blithely.
And yet, I admire the Catholic sisters on my Yahoo discussion group, which is for Catholic women who cover and who feel called to plain dress, like the Amish (I didn't know they existed either). They offer up the pain of being noticed in this manner, of being mistaken for Mennonite or JW or some other conservative fundamentalist group, knowing in their hearts that they are trying their level best to follow the Scripture and live according to the immemorial traditions of the Church, even if that amounts only to a trough of irrelevance in today's day and age.
And so my agonizing dilemma goes...should I wear makeup, or shouldn't I? Should I wear my hair up every day or shouldn't I? Is it OK to wear pants around the house, or do I need the "feminizing" influence of a skirt even more when I'm inside? I really sympathize with those of you who just don't get the whole emphasis on "appearance." "Why are you spending so much time and energy worrying about it?" they wonder.
You know, I sometimes wonder the same thing. I guess it's like when you examine Christianity for the first time, and you realize that you're going to have to change everything about your life. And yet, what you've found is so beautiful, that you know once you've made the changes and are living only for God, that you'll be more at peace than you've ever been, you'll have more time and energy for Him because you're not being "tossed to and fro on every wind of doctrine."
I guess it's the same with women and the way we dress and present ourselves. Up until now, I've been tossed around when it comes to fashion and I'm tired of it. On the other hand, I don't want to just give up and wear a unisex uniform every day. When you're a stay-at-home, and you don't have all the "outside" stuff to keep you distracted, your soul yearns for beauty, delicacy and all the refined sentiments that women have that help us make a home and a family. When I'm dressed in a feminine manner that is correct for my role, it's like something that was dislocated gets put back into joint. It just feels right.
Here is a nice little run-down on headcovering by Hillbilly Housewife:
http://www.scriptures.hillbillyhousewife.com/beginners.htm
In my pride, I felt that Jimmy Akin needed to be corrected, so I informed him of my disagreement with his interpretation of canon law on the subject, citing some traditionalist-oriented web sites as my sources.
Then I read all the discussion threads I could find on Catholic.com pertaining to this subject--and saw that all the veil advocates GOT ABSOLUTELY TROUNCED when they trotted out their arguments for veiling as required by canon law. I modified my opinion to accommodate the new information...which is basically that a satisfactory case for veiling being some kind of back-door requirement of the Church CANNOT BE MADE in such a way that it will be taken seriously. The veil has been consigned to the realm of "personal devotion."
Sadly, I discovered that even Magisterium-loving Catholics are divided into little subcamps. The Catholic Answers/EWTN crowd are called the "neo-cons" and the Latin Mass-loving, mantilla wearing (but not SSPX) crowd are called the traditionalists, or simply "trads" for short. This may not come as much of a shock to anyone but me, but I got really depressed over the whole thing. Can't we all just be Catholic, follow the Magisterium, and get along?
So I took my posts down, wrote a shamefaced little apology e-mail to Jimmy and am now lurking around at jimmyakin.org, afraid to show my moniker.
So by way of explanation, my goal here is to take a little snapshot of my current thinking on mantillas, or headcovering--which is an umbrella term for all kinds of coverings worn in all kinds of situations by all kinds of well-meaning women, be they Christian, Jewish, or Muslim (there is probably a Master's thesis lurking in here).
1. This is a huge issue. I have been reading for weeks, unable to piece together a cohesive Catholic perspective on the whole thing. Aside from the do-we-wear-one-at-Mass-or-not controversy, there are varying interpretations of I Corinthians 11, some of which dismiss the whole thing as an example of Paul just being overzealous, the Corinthians being a special case, or veiling being just a cultural practice specific to the times. While our sola scriptura sisters have a refreshing clarity when it comes to seeing this command jump out at them from Scripture, the Catholics shrink back and cry, "Not unless the Pope tells me to...preferably in person!"
2. If you do decide to wear a headcovering...there is NO GUIDANCE. This is a situation in which it would be a relief to be Amish, or CCF, where they tell you what type of headcovering you are to wear and what color and that's that. If you are Catholic, not only do you have no official direction from the Church on this, you have the active animosity of a large contingent of people who have/had a vested interest in "modernizing" the Church, and here you are drawing attention to yourself and implicitly criticizing their "reforms"-- and that's if you're only wearing a covering at Mass. What if you start showing up to all the non-Mass parish events in your covering? What happens when your lapsed-Catholic relatives get a gander at you come Thanksgiving? How do you explain your "new look" to your few remaining Protestant friends who don't really know anything about the Church in the first place? Right now there are too many unanswered questions for me to start wearing a headcovering full-time, although my heart is drawn to the practice.
3. I am afraid I'll be sending the wrong message...spreading confusion, instead of the gospel. This is the real kicker. We must be in the last, last days, because these days when somebody wants to appear overtly religious, they are either ignored or persecuted (and yes, I consider staring to be a form of persecution--it says, "Who do you think you are? I've got my eye on you!") You will quickly find out what people think of your faith when you wear it on your head. "You look Amish with that thing on your head," said my talkative neighbor Joe when he saw my black kerchief. Note: he didn't say, "Wow, I so appreciate your wonderful Catholic and Christian witness! You are making me think about the Lord!" Now times this reaction by twenty and this is what you will have to endure every day, every week, every year of your life until the end. It is not something to be taken on blithely.
And yet, I admire the Catholic sisters on my Yahoo discussion group, which is for Catholic women who cover and who feel called to plain dress, like the Amish (I didn't know they existed either). They offer up the pain of being noticed in this manner, of being mistaken for Mennonite or JW or some other conservative fundamentalist group, knowing in their hearts that they are trying their level best to follow the Scripture and live according to the immemorial traditions of the Church, even if that amounts only to a trough of irrelevance in today's day and age.
And so my agonizing dilemma goes...should I wear makeup, or shouldn't I? Should I wear my hair up every day or shouldn't I? Is it OK to wear pants around the house, or do I need the "feminizing" influence of a skirt even more when I'm inside? I really sympathize with those of you who just don't get the whole emphasis on "appearance." "Why are you spending so much time and energy worrying about it?" they wonder.
You know, I sometimes wonder the same thing. I guess it's like when you examine Christianity for the first time, and you realize that you're going to have to change everything about your life. And yet, what you've found is so beautiful, that you know once you've made the changes and are living only for God, that you'll be more at peace than you've ever been, you'll have more time and energy for Him because you're not being "tossed to and fro on every wind of doctrine."
I guess it's the same with women and the way we dress and present ourselves. Up until now, I've been tossed around when it comes to fashion and I'm tired of it. On the other hand, I don't want to just give up and wear a unisex uniform every day. When you're a stay-at-home, and you don't have all the "outside" stuff to keep you distracted, your soul yearns for beauty, delicacy and all the refined sentiments that women have that help us make a home and a family. When I'm dressed in a feminine manner that is correct for my role, it's like something that was dislocated gets put back into joint. It just feels right.
Here is a nice little run-down on headcovering by Hillbilly Housewife:
http://www.scriptures.hillbillyhousewife.com/beginners.htm
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Reader mail (I always wanted to say that!)
Here is a reader question that recently appeared in the comment box, followed by my response. I think it is a good letter, and that it points out some needed clarifications:
Hi, I'll try to answer your question, but I'm not an authority, only a housewife :)
1. www.catholicmodesty.com
Standards of Modesty in Dress
Imprimatur dated Sept. 24, 1956
"A dress cannot be called decent which is cut deeper than two fingers breadth under the pit of the throat; which does not cover the arms at least to the elbows; and scarcely reaches a bit beyond the knees. Furthermore, dresses of transparent materials are improper."
The Cardinal Vicar of Pius XII
I just used the phrase "Pope test" as shorthand...thanks for pointing out to me that it needed to be clarified (you mean somebody actually read my blog?? Whoo-hoo!).
2.
a. Only God knows. It's a path He's drawn me to. Without grace, without Scripture, and without the Church, there's really no point in delineating any standards at all. The modern culture just continues to slouch toward Gomorrah, so there's no standards there. Just what won't get you busted. Also check out Deuteronomy 22:5: "A woman shall not be clothed with man's apparel, neither shall a man use woman's apparel: for he that doeth these things is abominable before God." I think some of the gender-bending fashions we've seen in history are the exception, not the rule.
b. I applaud your journey. I think we all get to a point after conversion where we have to listen deeply for God's call and His personal will for our lives. You know He wants you to be Catholic, but what kind of Catholic will you be? Do you know He is calling you to sainthood? That He is calling every person on earth to sainthood? Do you know that when men can see the separation of your legs...it doesn't matter what you're wearing, they are staring at the rear of the woman. Please don't be offended...I try to be a very refined person but sometimes women don't seem to realize that men are so plagued by concupiscence that we are shocked when we find out! I am not saying that men are animals, or that they all want to do this, but they are bombarded all day with things that tempt them to sin. We can help our brothers out by "veiling" our intimate parts.
c. I totally agree about winter!! You freeze, because modern skirts aren't made to keep you warm--you can't fit anything under them. But jeans aren't necessarily any warmer. My advice is, find or make a longish skirt that is cut a bit fuller than "normal" and wear some exercise pants or soft pajama pants underneath. That's what bloomers are, just pants that women wore beneath their skirts to stay warm. And then I daresay you will be warmer than the skintight Levi's club. Also I think a split skirt that is cut very modestly would be appropriate for sporty things. I am a member of a couple of Yahoo groups where we discuss this kind of thing. Some are very modest and never appear unless they're in a skirt, even if they're weeding in the backyard. Some are much more casual, just exploring the concept of modesty and looking to dress more feminine, like you.
You sound like a very earnest and thoughtful person. Pray about it, read some more, think about what God might be calling you to. Thanks for writing and God bless.
"I read what you wrote, carefully. I have some questions.
1) Where can I find the "Pope test"? Sorry, I read your post
and checked the links, and I cannot find it!
2) Pants: I admit since I converted (first to Christianity in general,
and then to Catholicism) the way I dress has been changing. I am dressing in a
more feminine way (before I used to either dress in shapeless, grayish,
unflattering clothes or in too short skirts and shorts. I avoided colour, also).
I find myself more drawn to long skirts and more feminine pants. But I still
need the pants. When it's raining or cold, nothing can beat the pants. I still
have some pants from "before", which I hate, because they make me seem ugly and
masculine. But the new ones have a feminine, more classic cut. Why do you
believe all pants are not feminine? Why can't they be like skirts: there are
masculine skirts, as the kilts from Scotland or the traditional garb from Apulia
seaweed collectors (Portugal), or the skirts the men from Miranda (Portugal)
wore. Why can't there be masculine pants and feminine pants?"
Hi, I'll try to answer your question, but I'm not an authority, only a housewife :)
1. www.catholicmodesty.com
Standards of Modesty in Dress
Imprimatur dated Sept. 24, 1956
"A dress cannot be called decent which is cut deeper than two fingers breadth under the pit of the throat; which does not cover the arms at least to the elbows; and scarcely reaches a bit beyond the knees. Furthermore, dresses of transparent materials are improper."
The Cardinal Vicar of Pius XII
I just used the phrase "Pope test" as shorthand...thanks for pointing out to me that it needed to be clarified (you mean somebody actually read my blog?? Whoo-hoo!).
2.
a. Only God knows. It's a path He's drawn me to. Without grace, without Scripture, and without the Church, there's really no point in delineating any standards at all. The modern culture just continues to slouch toward Gomorrah, so there's no standards there. Just what won't get you busted. Also check out Deuteronomy 22:5: "A woman shall not be clothed with man's apparel, neither shall a man use woman's apparel: for he that doeth these things is abominable before God." I think some of the gender-bending fashions we've seen in history are the exception, not the rule.
b. I applaud your journey. I think we all get to a point after conversion where we have to listen deeply for God's call and His personal will for our lives. You know He wants you to be Catholic, but what kind of Catholic will you be? Do you know He is calling you to sainthood? That He is calling every person on earth to sainthood? Do you know that when men can see the separation of your legs...it doesn't matter what you're wearing, they are staring at the rear of the woman. Please don't be offended...I try to be a very refined person but sometimes women don't seem to realize that men are so plagued by concupiscence that we are shocked when we find out! I am not saying that men are animals, or that they all want to do this, but they are bombarded all day with things that tempt them to sin. We can help our brothers out by "veiling" our intimate parts.
c. I totally agree about winter!! You freeze, because modern skirts aren't made to keep you warm--you can't fit anything under them. But jeans aren't necessarily any warmer. My advice is, find or make a longish skirt that is cut a bit fuller than "normal" and wear some exercise pants or soft pajama pants underneath. That's what bloomers are, just pants that women wore beneath their skirts to stay warm. And then I daresay you will be warmer than the skintight Levi's club. Also I think a split skirt that is cut very modestly would be appropriate for sporty things. I am a member of a couple of Yahoo groups where we discuss this kind of thing. Some are very modest and never appear unless they're in a skirt, even if they're weeding in the backyard. Some are much more casual, just exploring the concept of modesty and looking to dress more feminine, like you.
You sound like a very earnest and thoughtful person. Pray about it, read some more, think about what God might be calling you to. Thanks for writing and God bless.
The B-team is here!
Whew-eee!
Thanks to all of you whose patience has finally paid off. I've cudgeled my brain into messing with my blog template, and ...the B-team badge & blogroll are finally UP!
Check out my new links!
Learn about Catholicism!
Have fun surfing the B-teamers' blogs!
I'll be getting another cup of coffee...head hurts...
PS: Any of you bloggers who can give me tips on how to make my blog fancy-er, they're welcome...
Thanks to all of you whose patience has finally paid off. I've cudgeled my brain into messing with my blog template, and ...the B-team badge & blogroll are finally UP!
Check out my new links!
Learn about Catholicism!
Have fun surfing the B-teamers' blogs!
I'll be getting another cup of coffee...head hurts...
PS: Any of you bloggers who can give me tips on how to make my blog fancy-er, they're welcome...
How do you deal with JW's?
I am sorry to report that after my post on how to treat door-knockers in a gospel manner, I hid from some JW's today. I guess I could cop an excuse--my baby is sick, that's why we're home from Mass today, I was upstairs with my toddler helping him go potty--but really I can't say I wouldn't have hid from them if I had no excuse at all. Why? If Catholicism (however unattractive it is in its contemporary form) is the TRUTH, why should I shrink from sharing it? Are there any legitimate reasons?
1. I am afraid of persecution. Yep, you heard it here--I was just afraid. I probably wouldn't balk at a couple of grassroots fundies going around the neighborhood sharing the "good news," but JW's in particular are notorious for being organized, aggressive, and explicitly anti-Catholic. In the literature they left me it showed a picture of a Catholic priest among their image montage exposing "false religion." And when you read it, you can tell that when they say "false religion," what they really mean is the Catholic Church.
2. I am unprepared. I know, I know, after being on an apologetics diet for 1 1/2 years, you'd think I'd be loaded for bear when these guys show up. I know enough to defend the Church in casual conversation with friends and relatives, but I don't feel ready to go up against professional religious salesmen.
3. I don't feel safe with strange men in my house. I have a right to feel safe in my own house, and if Dean's away, that usually means that I don't invite anybody in unless I know them. Maybe I would have been less intimidated if it was a couple of ladies. But they were older, heavyset men in business suits. Eh.
It is important to spread the Gospel, and these days that's my mantra. It's what Christ told us to do, and when I realized I didn't know the gospel all that well, I started keeping an open Bible by my bed, so that when I get ready to go to bed, the words are already staring me in the face.
That's why I've been exploring modesty and headcovering. It's such a powerful witness, and you don't have to say anything. Even if I had just opened the door, my long skirt and hair up probably would have conveyed some kind of witness. Maybe they would have been nicer to me. But there'e so much going on around here and in my head that I just couldn't take the chance.
So I apologize for being an intimidated, unprepared chicken. I really hope those men go with God and stay on the path to His truth, wherever it leads them.
1. I am afraid of persecution. Yep, you heard it here--I was just afraid. I probably wouldn't balk at a couple of grassroots fundies going around the neighborhood sharing the "good news," but JW's in particular are notorious for being organized, aggressive, and explicitly anti-Catholic. In the literature they left me it showed a picture of a Catholic priest among their image montage exposing "false religion." And when you read it, you can tell that when they say "false religion," what they really mean is the Catholic Church.
2. I am unprepared. I know, I know, after being on an apologetics diet for 1 1/2 years, you'd think I'd be loaded for bear when these guys show up. I know enough to defend the Church in casual conversation with friends and relatives, but I don't feel ready to go up against professional religious salesmen.
3. I don't feel safe with strange men in my house. I have a right to feel safe in my own house, and if Dean's away, that usually means that I don't invite anybody in unless I know them. Maybe I would have been less intimidated if it was a couple of ladies. But they were older, heavyset men in business suits. Eh.
It is important to spread the Gospel, and these days that's my mantra. It's what Christ told us to do, and when I realized I didn't know the gospel all that well, I started keeping an open Bible by my bed, so that when I get ready to go to bed, the words are already staring me in the face.
That's why I've been exploring modesty and headcovering. It's such a powerful witness, and you don't have to say anything. Even if I had just opened the door, my long skirt and hair up probably would have conveyed some kind of witness. Maybe they would have been nicer to me. But there'e so much going on around here and in my head that I just couldn't take the chance.
So I apologize for being an intimidated, unprepared chicken. I really hope those men go with God and stay on the path to His truth, wherever it leads them.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Hallowed Souls All Around Us
I've been watching a lot of movies lately, since the weather turned. And since I've converted, I'm noticing some Catholic "pearls" that get dropped in here and there by Hollywood. Not many, but a few.
A lot of films try to play with reality. Some are more effective than others. The Matrix, for instance, tried to introduce this idea in a hip, stylish way to the young. Unfortunately such fantasies are unproductive, increasing the nihilism and sense of disillusionment that young people already feel. But after watching A Beautiful Mind again, this time with a Catholic eye, I realize that movies like these do show us glimpses of truth, only they often do so negatively.
John Nash's delusions do harm to his grasp on reality. They get in the way of him living his real life. So by the end of the film he has to ignore them. "It is only in the mysterious equations of love," says Nash at his Nobel acceptance, "that any reason or logic can be found." But what if the opposite is true? What if what the Bible and the Church tell us is actually true: that each person has a guardian angel. Each person has a purpose and a life plan ordained for them by God. We live life, not in a metaphysical vacuum, but in a "cloud of witnesses." Each person has to make a choice: to live out their purpose with God's help, or rejection of God's plan and a spiral into sin. Unlike Nash's retinue of unreal characters, we are surrounded with real persons, who stand by to guide us, to guard us, even to follow our orders.
It will not succeed unless you put on the eyes of faith. As long as you look around and see only walls, you will scoff at the notion of a personal God. But if you pray long enough, a little each day I mean, persevering in prayer and not letting the devil convince you that nobody hears you, you will start to sense little echoes of the supernatural all around you. Read a book about miracles and you will not doubt that every thought or action we take is witnessed immediately and acted upon by supernatural forces. If you're mired in sin, demons rush to do your bidding and solidify your indifference. If you are struggling to be holy, angels breathe on you and transmit your holy prayers and thoughts to heaven. And if you are a saint, then (spiritually speaking) you are "a bulldozer bearing down on a field of marshmallows" to paraphrase Fr. Benedict Groeschel.
It is spiritual warfare to try to be holy in the world. There's really no way to be an "average" Catholic. You are either fighting the good fight or you are aiding and abetting the enemy by your indifference. Remember what Jesus said, "Whoever is not for me is against me." Do you think he is going to look kindly on those of us that are sitting on the fence? It's hard, because the world seems so much more real than the metaphysical realm.You get discouraged, you start to believe that this or that happenstance is a freak incident, another is coincidence. You suffer over something and get angry and depressed, not knowing what it means. The world seems ugly and cold. Then the devil moves in and tries to convince you that the source of your healing, the Church, is really a nasty mess of bad people that you are much better off without. All you really need is yourself, he says. If you could only dispense with all the morons in your life, and do things "your" way, your suffering could at least be palliated, you could insulate yourself from the pain and loneliness you feel.
And then something truly bad happens. Loved ones go to the hospital, enormous bills land in your mailbox and life becomes a round-the-clock of work with no respite in sight. Your mind is filled with the stress of knowing that all the little plans you've built up in your mind, of what you were going to do--provided everything went peachy--are gone. There comes a point when you can't plan, you can't think, you can only react. But once you become physically and mentally exhausted, once you hit that moment of helplessness, when you can't solve all your problems yourself--that's when you go to your knees and God can finally take over.
And then you start to understand how you can have peace that surpasses understanding. Looked at objectively, she should be having a nervous breakdown from all the stress. But there goes the humble little servant of God, trusting in His plan like a child. So she can nurse her children, do the dishes, make the phone calls and dispense the medicine. Even when she doesn't understand how all this is going to come out.
I will watch through the dark til the morning comes
All the light I'll take you through the night to see
A light showing us all love can be
I will guard you with my bright wings
Stay till your heart learns to see
--Will Jennings
A lot of films try to play with reality. Some are more effective than others. The Matrix, for instance, tried to introduce this idea in a hip, stylish way to the young. Unfortunately such fantasies are unproductive, increasing the nihilism and sense of disillusionment that young people already feel. But after watching A Beautiful Mind again, this time with a Catholic eye, I realize that movies like these do show us glimpses of truth, only they often do so negatively.
John Nash's delusions do harm to his grasp on reality. They get in the way of him living his real life. So by the end of the film he has to ignore them. "It is only in the mysterious equations of love," says Nash at his Nobel acceptance, "that any reason or logic can be found." But what if the opposite is true? What if what the Bible and the Church tell us is actually true: that each person has a guardian angel. Each person has a purpose and a life plan ordained for them by God. We live life, not in a metaphysical vacuum, but in a "cloud of witnesses." Each person has to make a choice: to live out their purpose with God's help, or rejection of God's plan and a spiral into sin. Unlike Nash's retinue of unreal characters, we are surrounded with real persons, who stand by to guide us, to guard us, even to follow our orders.
It will not succeed unless you put on the eyes of faith. As long as you look around and see only walls, you will scoff at the notion of a personal God. But if you pray long enough, a little each day I mean, persevering in prayer and not letting the devil convince you that nobody hears you, you will start to sense little echoes of the supernatural all around you. Read a book about miracles and you will not doubt that every thought or action we take is witnessed immediately and acted upon by supernatural forces. If you're mired in sin, demons rush to do your bidding and solidify your indifference. If you are struggling to be holy, angels breathe on you and transmit your holy prayers and thoughts to heaven. And if you are a saint, then (spiritually speaking) you are "a bulldozer bearing down on a field of marshmallows" to paraphrase Fr. Benedict Groeschel.
It is spiritual warfare to try to be holy in the world. There's really no way to be an "average" Catholic. You are either fighting the good fight or you are aiding and abetting the enemy by your indifference. Remember what Jesus said, "Whoever is not for me is against me." Do you think he is going to look kindly on those of us that are sitting on the fence? It's hard, because the world seems so much more real than the metaphysical realm.You get discouraged, you start to believe that this or that happenstance is a freak incident, another is coincidence. You suffer over something and get angry and depressed, not knowing what it means. The world seems ugly and cold. Then the devil moves in and tries to convince you that the source of your healing, the Church, is really a nasty mess of bad people that you are much better off without. All you really need is yourself, he says. If you could only dispense with all the morons in your life, and do things "your" way, your suffering could at least be palliated, you could insulate yourself from the pain and loneliness you feel.
And then something truly bad happens. Loved ones go to the hospital, enormous bills land in your mailbox and life becomes a round-the-clock of work with no respite in sight. Your mind is filled with the stress of knowing that all the little plans you've built up in your mind, of what you were going to do--provided everything went peachy--are gone. There comes a point when you can't plan, you can't think, you can only react. But once you become physically and mentally exhausted, once you hit that moment of helplessness, when you can't solve all your problems yourself--that's when you go to your knees and God can finally take over.
And then you start to understand how you can have peace that surpasses understanding. Looked at objectively, she should be having a nervous breakdown from all the stress. But there goes the humble little servant of God, trusting in His plan like a child. So she can nurse her children, do the dishes, make the phone calls and dispense the medicine. Even when she doesn't understand how all this is going to come out.
I will watch through the dark til the morning comes
All the light I'll take you through the night to see
A light showing us all love can be
I will guard you with my bright wings
Stay till your heart learns to see
--Will Jennings
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Thoughts on Modesty
Why is it only Catholics that seem to have a problem with "dressing up" for church?
As a convert, I've noticed this from the beginning. "Boy, these people are skuzzy," I thought. "If what they say about the Real Presence is true, you'd think they'd have more respect" (confession has done a lot for me since then!). But my thoughts failed to take any real form until, in my veil-reading, I discovered the concept of Catholic modesty. And while concerns about clothing and appearance may be merely a female proclivity, I think we can all look around us and assess the damage that a wholesale disregard of this virtue has produced. Just look around the next time you attend Mass. Outside church it's even worse. Women are supposed to be "liberated," but when we expose our bodies, we lose our dignity. What's liberated about having to dress like a hooker and then be evaluated on your "hot" factor?
As a housewife, I'm concerned because I place as a priority my own vocational development as well as the moral and spiritual well-being of my family--particularly my sons. As their mother, I am modeling femininity to them. I am saying, "This is what a woman is. This is how she dresses and this is how she acts. The way you treat me and the way your father treats me is how you should treat your sisters and your future wife, as well as other women." And on this point I agree with feminist New Agers: the feminine is sacred. At least it ought to be, in our kids' eyes at least.
I don't think mothers who work are as concerned about this because they're always out in the world. Having to go to work, competing with everybody on every level throughout the day, imbues in us the message that we are where we fit into the pecking order. Clothing is a visual language that tells other people, "Hey, I'm with it. Check me out. I've got the latest shoes, and my handbag isn't too behind the times. I'm committed to this job and I deserve that raise." Imagine a Mennonite woman working in an office. Just doesn't compute. Her costume says, "I may be in this world, but I'm not of it." The working woman has to communicate to her employer that her job is her number one priority or she risks losing her paycheck. Her clothing is the most visible and obvious way to do this.
Well, how is modesty defined? Today modesty seems to mean anything that doesn't get you fired or busted for violating indecent exposure laws. But in Scripture, modesty is named as one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit and the Church has, for 1900+ years, held it up as a virtue. Modesty used to mean the universal enforcement of at least an unwritten dress code for women. That dress code included longish skirts or dresses, becoming but not revealing blouses and shirts, and (in the not-too-distant past) a hat or bonnet or headcovering of some type.
The Catholic literature about modesty is some enlightening reading (see links below). I could quote all kinds of stuff from it, but there's just too much--and more easily read by yourself. It all pertains to the dignity of woman, her sacred role as guardian of the home and primary nurturer of children. There are also explicit guidelines as to what exactly a women should be wearing, and these guidelines rule out 85% of what passes for fashion today. I was amused and dismayed by turns as I examined the web sites with their "modesty clothing." "This is so Little House on the Prairie!" I moaned. There were even patterns for bloomers and petticoats!
But then I reminded myself of just how ugly fashion was getting, and how I have almost given up on wearing anything beautiful. I had resigned myself to wearing jeans and T-shirts for the rest of my life because, as a housewife, "Just who and what do I think I have to dress up for?" I even prided myself on "macho" behavior (probably because I was in the military) and being able to compete with men when it comes to coarse language. But I love old movies and period fashion plates, and my "Jane Austen" videotape collection is well-worn. I have also forced myself to wear skirts to Mass because of the crazy outfits people wear. And I'm always glad I did, especially when there's a guy behind me.
So I read voraciously everything I could find on modesty. And I was so convinced by this reading, that I went up to my closet and pulled out everything that didn't pass what I called "the Pope test" (it's in the literature--see below). Then I went down to Goodwill and spent two hundred bucks on things that did pass the Pope test. I emerged looking like a silhouette from the forties, but with modern touches. The look is a little retro, but not Little House on the Prairie. And what is even more important, I felt beautiful.
I did not buy any pants.
Two things I noticed immediately. On coming out of the Goodwill store, I encountered a man in a "wifebeater" tank top and a mullet. When he saw me, he did this sort of double take and automatically opened the door for me. The second thing I noticed was that I stopped carping at my husband. Didn't take any effort at all. Now why should that be? I thought modesty was only about changing my clothing, which I was willing to do anyway, for the sake of my kids. But I discovered that changing my clothes ended up changing my heart, and my marriage--overnight.
My husband is the most wonderful man in the world. I honestly don't think I could have gotten myself a better. But he's not perfect. He's not neat, he's not "healthy," and he's not handy. I'm the one who cleans and reads auto manuals and handles the finances and nags him about his cholesterol. "Oh, if he'd only listen to me!" I'd think. "All his problems would be solved!" The criticizing always hits a crescendo around PMS time when he either sulks or explodes and then I cry out of remorse. Sound familiar? I think the same refrain goes through the head of every fallen woman since Eve ate the apple. But what if we could break the cycle? Could it be possible that when a woman dresses according to her sacred role, it tends to bring out true masculinity in men? Women, what if we could make our husbands be the men we have always wanted them to be by simply putting on a skirt?
Why are there teaching documents from cardinals and archbishops urging women not to wear pants? Because the pants represent a blurring of the sex roles. When a women puts on pants she immediately thinks of herself not in the role of sacred feminine, but in terms of her utility. And then feminism seizes on this and tells her that she can do anything a man can do. Is it any wonder then that the woman feels driven to compete with her husband, along with everyone else?
Can you imagine the Virgin Mary in pants?
Looked at another way, our clothing proclaims to the world where our hearts are. Last week, I went along with my husband to his work site in Vancouver, British Columbia. There is a public, wholesale endorsement of the gay lifestyle there. In one of the brochures in the hotel, there was a pamphlet with tourist destinations within it that included "the vibrant gay and lesbian community." The pamphlet showed a man and woman tourist, but no kids. The front of the pamphlet was an opened zipper with the statement, "Expose yourself to Vancouver, British Columbia." This is where we are headed, gang.
We went to the farmers market there and saw a teenage boy in a dress. Not in drag, but in a dress. What struck me about him was that this was not a joke. He was dead serious, and you could tell that he expected people to take him seriously. The next time someone accuses you of focusing merely on the externals, ask them what they think about men going to job interviews in dresses and expecting to be hired. What does that say about what's inside?
Now how is modesty related to the veil issue? Are they separate? I think they are linked. When women dropped the veil, they started wearing pants and the "battle of the sexes" was on. The veil is a "sign of submission," of the woman to her husband. When women started to drop this sign, it wasn't simply a matter of convenience. It was an act of rebellion. It says, I am no longer going to be subject to any man--and that goes directly against Scripture. And the secular culture is only too happy to back her up on this. "The Church was wrong for 1900 years," it says. "Now you can become who you really are." And let me interject here that I don't believe this passage means that every woman is automatically any man's slave. The Scripture says a woman is subject to her husband, and to her husband only. She is subordinate to him, not all males or anybody else.
Christianity dignified women by lifting them up from the status of slave and giving them the place accorded to the Church by Christ. Christianity offered protection to women, rights and privileges they didn't have in the pagan world. If you have a problem with St. Paul on this, ask yourself whether it is more dignified for a woman to answer to her husband, in private, over whom she exercises the whole of her feminine gifts--or to some indifferent boss in the public square who values her only for her quota of man-hours? Is it more dignified for a woman to submit to the man who needs her most, and has the most to gain from her cooperation, or the corporate moguls and government officials who set social standards far more rigid than anything that prevails in a home?
In the traditional context, the veil is not merely a "sign of submission,' but a badge of honor, and a privilege. When I was promoted in the military and was given the rank insignia to wear, did I complain about how I was to be subordinate to the next higher rank? No! I gloried in my new position, I wanted to learn all about it, and to do right by everyone who happened to be below or above me. And to the angels, the veil signifies that we accept our proper place in the worship of God, just as they do--because the angels cover themselves before God.
Now that 40 years have passed, and the veil has been so completely eradicated, it seems unthinkable for women to willingly respond to an exhortation from the Church about this--even if the hierarchy felt the urge to do so. Where has the Church been through all this? In a tailspin after Vatican II, fighting social phenomena like contraception, abortion, and homosexuality in the priesthood--which was not exactly a position from which to exhort women about something like veil-wearing. The literature cites a few examples from the 50's or the 60's, a cardinal here, an archbishop there--promoting the ideal of modesty and attempting to set some standards. But they are like voices crying in the wilderness.
Anyone with the courage to obey risks becoming socially irrelevant--because in today's society, if you're not going along with the dress, you're not going along with the culture. Secular, unisex, and immodest clothing SHOULD be anathema to Catholic women, but we all want to "go along" with the crowd. It may be ugly, and utilitarian, but it's comfortable and practical, which seems to be the only criteria on which to judge something these days.
However, if a Catholic woman wants to take the virtue of modesty seriously, she must consider the veil a part of the package. Covering a woman's hair has ALWAYS BEEN DONE in Christian societies. It wasn't until the 20th century that women started to buck the tradition. Now am I talking just at Mass, or all the time? Well...that is a whole other can of worms. I haven't found definitive information yet from the Catholic perspective, but I have found a few Protestant/evangelical/fundamentalist sects which exhort and defend the practice of veiling at least for worship and some of them all the time, based on St. Paul's passage in I Corinthians. There is very strong Catholic evidence that the veil is to be worn at Mass--it just seems to be ignored by everyone. I haven't found a jot of support in Catholic circles for veiling outside of Mass, however. I am still looking, so check back for updates.
Some sites to check out:
http://www.catholicmodesty.com
http://catholicplanet.com/women/index.htm
and you can jump off from there...
As a convert, I've noticed this from the beginning. "Boy, these people are skuzzy," I thought. "If what they say about the Real Presence is true, you'd think they'd have more respect" (confession has done a lot for me since then!). But my thoughts failed to take any real form until, in my veil-reading, I discovered the concept of Catholic modesty. And while concerns about clothing and appearance may be merely a female proclivity, I think we can all look around us and assess the damage that a wholesale disregard of this virtue has produced. Just look around the next time you attend Mass. Outside church it's even worse. Women are supposed to be "liberated," but when we expose our bodies, we lose our dignity. What's liberated about having to dress like a hooker and then be evaluated on your "hot" factor?
As a housewife, I'm concerned because I place as a priority my own vocational development as well as the moral and spiritual well-being of my family--particularly my sons. As their mother, I am modeling femininity to them. I am saying, "This is what a woman is. This is how she dresses and this is how she acts. The way you treat me and the way your father treats me is how you should treat your sisters and your future wife, as well as other women." And on this point I agree with feminist New Agers: the feminine is sacred. At least it ought to be, in our kids' eyes at least.
I don't think mothers who work are as concerned about this because they're always out in the world. Having to go to work, competing with everybody on every level throughout the day, imbues in us the message that we are where we fit into the pecking order. Clothing is a visual language that tells other people, "Hey, I'm with it. Check me out. I've got the latest shoes, and my handbag isn't too behind the times. I'm committed to this job and I deserve that raise." Imagine a Mennonite woman working in an office. Just doesn't compute. Her costume says, "I may be in this world, but I'm not of it." The working woman has to communicate to her employer that her job is her number one priority or she risks losing her paycheck. Her clothing is the most visible and obvious way to do this.
Well, how is modesty defined? Today modesty seems to mean anything that doesn't get you fired or busted for violating indecent exposure laws. But in Scripture, modesty is named as one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit and the Church has, for 1900+ years, held it up as a virtue. Modesty used to mean the universal enforcement of at least an unwritten dress code for women. That dress code included longish skirts or dresses, becoming but not revealing blouses and shirts, and (in the not-too-distant past) a hat or bonnet or headcovering of some type.
The Catholic literature about modesty is some enlightening reading (see links below). I could quote all kinds of stuff from it, but there's just too much--and more easily read by yourself. It all pertains to the dignity of woman, her sacred role as guardian of the home and primary nurturer of children. There are also explicit guidelines as to what exactly a women should be wearing, and these guidelines rule out 85% of what passes for fashion today. I was amused and dismayed by turns as I examined the web sites with their "modesty clothing." "This is so Little House on the Prairie!" I moaned. There were even patterns for bloomers and petticoats!
But then I reminded myself of just how ugly fashion was getting, and how I have almost given up on wearing anything beautiful. I had resigned myself to wearing jeans and T-shirts for the rest of my life because, as a housewife, "Just who and what do I think I have to dress up for?" I even prided myself on "macho" behavior (probably because I was in the military) and being able to compete with men when it comes to coarse language. But I love old movies and period fashion plates, and my "Jane Austen" videotape collection is well-worn. I have also forced myself to wear skirts to Mass because of the crazy outfits people wear. And I'm always glad I did, especially when there's a guy behind me.
So I read voraciously everything I could find on modesty. And I was so convinced by this reading, that I went up to my closet and pulled out everything that didn't pass what I called "the Pope test" (it's in the literature--see below). Then I went down to Goodwill and spent two hundred bucks on things that did pass the Pope test. I emerged looking like a silhouette from the forties, but with modern touches. The look is a little retro, but not Little House on the Prairie. And what is even more important, I felt beautiful.
I did not buy any pants.
Two things I noticed immediately. On coming out of the Goodwill store, I encountered a man in a "wifebeater" tank top and a mullet. When he saw me, he did this sort of double take and automatically opened the door for me. The second thing I noticed was that I stopped carping at my husband. Didn't take any effort at all. Now why should that be? I thought modesty was only about changing my clothing, which I was willing to do anyway, for the sake of my kids. But I discovered that changing my clothes ended up changing my heart, and my marriage--overnight.
My husband is the most wonderful man in the world. I honestly don't think I could have gotten myself a better. But he's not perfect. He's not neat, he's not "healthy," and he's not handy. I'm the one who cleans and reads auto manuals and handles the finances and nags him about his cholesterol. "Oh, if he'd only listen to me!" I'd think. "All his problems would be solved!" The criticizing always hits a crescendo around PMS time when he either sulks or explodes and then I cry out of remorse. Sound familiar? I think the same refrain goes through the head of every fallen woman since Eve ate the apple. But what if we could break the cycle? Could it be possible that when a woman dresses according to her sacred role, it tends to bring out true masculinity in men? Women, what if we could make our husbands be the men we have always wanted them to be by simply putting on a skirt?
Why are there teaching documents from cardinals and archbishops urging women not to wear pants? Because the pants represent a blurring of the sex roles. When a women puts on pants she immediately thinks of herself not in the role of sacred feminine, but in terms of her utility. And then feminism seizes on this and tells her that she can do anything a man can do. Is it any wonder then that the woman feels driven to compete with her husband, along with everyone else?
Can you imagine the Virgin Mary in pants?
Looked at another way, our clothing proclaims to the world where our hearts are. Last week, I went along with my husband to his work site in Vancouver, British Columbia. There is a public, wholesale endorsement of the gay lifestyle there. In one of the brochures in the hotel, there was a pamphlet with tourist destinations within it that included "the vibrant gay and lesbian community." The pamphlet showed a man and woman tourist, but no kids. The front of the pamphlet was an opened zipper with the statement, "Expose yourself to Vancouver, British Columbia." This is where we are headed, gang.
We went to the farmers market there and saw a teenage boy in a dress. Not in drag, but in a dress. What struck me about him was that this was not a joke. He was dead serious, and you could tell that he expected people to take him seriously. The next time someone accuses you of focusing merely on the externals, ask them what they think about men going to job interviews in dresses and expecting to be hired. What does that say about what's inside?
Now how is modesty related to the veil issue? Are they separate? I think they are linked. When women dropped the veil, they started wearing pants and the "battle of the sexes" was on. The veil is a "sign of submission," of the woman to her husband. When women started to drop this sign, it wasn't simply a matter of convenience. It was an act of rebellion. It says, I am no longer going to be subject to any man--and that goes directly against Scripture. And the secular culture is only too happy to back her up on this. "The Church was wrong for 1900 years," it says. "Now you can become who you really are." And let me interject here that I don't believe this passage means that every woman is automatically any man's slave. The Scripture says a woman is subject to her husband, and to her husband only. She is subordinate to him, not all males or anybody else.
Christianity dignified women by lifting them up from the status of slave and giving them the place accorded to the Church by Christ. Christianity offered protection to women, rights and privileges they didn't have in the pagan world. If you have a problem with St. Paul on this, ask yourself whether it is more dignified for a woman to answer to her husband, in private, over whom she exercises the whole of her feminine gifts--or to some indifferent boss in the public square who values her only for her quota of man-hours? Is it more dignified for a woman to submit to the man who needs her most, and has the most to gain from her cooperation, or the corporate moguls and government officials who set social standards far more rigid than anything that prevails in a home?
In the traditional context, the veil is not merely a "sign of submission,' but a badge of honor, and a privilege. When I was promoted in the military and was given the rank insignia to wear, did I complain about how I was to be subordinate to the next higher rank? No! I gloried in my new position, I wanted to learn all about it, and to do right by everyone who happened to be below or above me. And to the angels, the veil signifies that we accept our proper place in the worship of God, just as they do--because the angels cover themselves before God.
Now that 40 years have passed, and the veil has been so completely eradicated, it seems unthinkable for women to willingly respond to an exhortation from the Church about this--even if the hierarchy felt the urge to do so. Where has the Church been through all this? In a tailspin after Vatican II, fighting social phenomena like contraception, abortion, and homosexuality in the priesthood--which was not exactly a position from which to exhort women about something like veil-wearing. The literature cites a few examples from the 50's or the 60's, a cardinal here, an archbishop there--promoting the ideal of modesty and attempting to set some standards. But they are like voices crying in the wilderness.
Anyone with the courage to obey risks becoming socially irrelevant--because in today's society, if you're not going along with the dress, you're not going along with the culture. Secular, unisex, and immodest clothing SHOULD be anathema to Catholic women, but we all want to "go along" with the crowd. It may be ugly, and utilitarian, but it's comfortable and practical, which seems to be the only criteria on which to judge something these days.
However, if a Catholic woman wants to take the virtue of modesty seriously, she must consider the veil a part of the package. Covering a woman's hair has ALWAYS BEEN DONE in Christian societies. It wasn't until the 20th century that women started to buck the tradition. Now am I talking just at Mass, or all the time? Well...that is a whole other can of worms. I haven't found definitive information yet from the Catholic perspective, but I have found a few Protestant/evangelical/fundamentalist sects which exhort and defend the practice of veiling at least for worship and some of them all the time, based on St. Paul's passage in I Corinthians. There is very strong Catholic evidence that the veil is to be worn at Mass--it just seems to be ignored by everyone. I haven't found a jot of support in Catholic circles for veiling outside of Mass, however. I am still looking, so check back for updates.
Some sites to check out:
http://www.catholicmodesty.com
http://catholicplanet.com/women/index.htm
and you can jump off from there...
Friday, August 25, 2006
Bob the Bummer
The last time we gave money to OPB, they cancelled my favorite show. I was so mad, we took a long hiatus from watching any public programming. I mean, it just feels like a betrayal, because they always take something good and replace it with something stupid or just ruin it.
Take Bob the Builder. At first, I thought it was a little too "cutesy" and simplistic, especially the refrain, "Can we fix it? Yes we can!" The show centers around Bob and Wendy and their crew of construction vehicles that all have names and personalities and even hang-ups. Bob goes around doing construction jobs for the community, with no job being too small. Every member of the community has Bob on the payroll, it seems, and there's no lack of business from the mayor. So every show is a pack of three mini-episodes following Bob and the gang on their latest job, interacting with various other characters, and solving every problem with a mixture of teamwork and serendipity.
I quickly got over my first impression that Bob was a dippy show, however. Soon I began to appreciate the jerky stop-action animation, the cute animals and the anthropomorphic machines. There was an innocence about the show, that transcended bills and permits and contracts to show a simple world without sin, in which everyone worked together for the good of all. One time there was a segment oriented purely at the parents, who were told that, "By learning how to solve problems together, children learn to work together as a team." That was the extent of any overt messages in the show. Although Bob occasionally interjected that such-and-such was a salvageable material that should be reused, or mentioned "green" building methods from time to time, the main thrust of the show was fun, friends, and problem-solving. I got hooked on it, and for the last few weeks, Bob has been the high point of many hectic mornings.
Until now. I may be late to the scene--apparently Bob the Builder has been on for awhile--but after the first season of the show, the focus shifted. Bob and his team have been given a new mission: to develop picturesque Sunflower Valley into an environmentally-friendly community. The new focus was pitched in a full-length episode featuring an architectural contest in which Bob's green utopia was pitted against an ugly mass of skyscrapers. Bob wins the contest, to the relief and enlightenment of all, and is awarded the task of making his vision come alive. During the episode, Bob is what he usually is not--a man on a mission. No more civic redecorating or barn-raising for him! This is a real job. At several points in the episode, he even had all the vehicles chanting "Reduce, reuse, recycle! Reduce, reuse, recycle!" I almost choked on my coffee in annoyance.
Now each mini-episode consists of Bob alone in the wilderness, building his dream one step at a time, while delivering homilies on environmentalism to his captive audience of adoring machines. While Carl still enjoys the show, it's been ruined for me. Now instead of drifting briefly into fantasy land, chuckling over the townspeople's small foibles and unintentional bits of comedy, I'm having this environmentalist agenda shoved down my throat. Even the PC-ness of Sesame Street isn't stressed this much. It's bad enough that children can't just have fun anymore (everything having to carry an "educational" message), but the new, unmistakably political, tone of the show is cruel.
How so?
It's cruel to take a child's little memories and pleasures and twist them to reflect the agenda of some adults who just happen to be in charge and stand to profit from forcing their agenda. You can practically see some producer cackling with glee in anticipation of his next promotion, and some committee of writers sitting around going, "Well, what can Bob say about protecting the environment today? Who cares...somebody brew another pot of coffee and we'll spend 30 seconds chanting Reduce-Reuse-Recycle again." This is not to say that I'm against protecting the environment. It's just that "protecting the environment" has become the mantra of liberals, covering up their real agenda of killing human beings through abortion and euthanasia. They took a sweet little story and turned it into a half-hour long commercial for their platform.
It's cruel to eradicate every last vestige of imagination from television, especially when PBS gets public money to fund programs for poor children which should go toward something besides inculcating an ideology. "Wait a minute, it's just recycling," you point out. "Who can argue with that?" Nobody can. That's the point. It's the camel's nose in the tent, pitched at two-year-olds to soften them up for more propaganda once they get into the schools, where recycling bins proliferate and common sense goes out the window. And even if you don't agree with that, you'd think that there would be a better way than to take a good show that had good writing and production value and turn it into a platform of talking points.
Finally, it's cruel to all the rest of us who live in a diminished world, a world that has sold its birthright--the faith delivered once by Jesus Christ to the saints--for this mess of pottage: a world of paranoia and pornography, of political correctness and contraception, of anti-religious totalitarianism and casual killing. It's cruel to destroy every oasis of joy there is to be had in this howling wilderness, in which human beings exist only to use and be used, and children are simply pawns to be won to one agenda or another. Like the world, Bob has become boring...and that's a real bummer.
Take Bob the Builder. At first, I thought it was a little too "cutesy" and simplistic, especially the refrain, "Can we fix it? Yes we can!" The show centers around Bob and Wendy and their crew of construction vehicles that all have names and personalities and even hang-ups. Bob goes around doing construction jobs for the community, with no job being too small. Every member of the community has Bob on the payroll, it seems, and there's no lack of business from the mayor. So every show is a pack of three mini-episodes following Bob and the gang on their latest job, interacting with various other characters, and solving every problem with a mixture of teamwork and serendipity.
I quickly got over my first impression that Bob was a dippy show, however. Soon I began to appreciate the jerky stop-action animation, the cute animals and the anthropomorphic machines. There was an innocence about the show, that transcended bills and permits and contracts to show a simple world without sin, in which everyone worked together for the good of all. One time there was a segment oriented purely at the parents, who were told that, "By learning how to solve problems together, children learn to work together as a team." That was the extent of any overt messages in the show. Although Bob occasionally interjected that such-and-such was a salvageable material that should be reused, or mentioned "green" building methods from time to time, the main thrust of the show was fun, friends, and problem-solving. I got hooked on it, and for the last few weeks, Bob has been the high point of many hectic mornings.
Until now. I may be late to the scene--apparently Bob the Builder has been on for awhile--but after the first season of the show, the focus shifted. Bob and his team have been given a new mission: to develop picturesque Sunflower Valley into an environmentally-friendly community. The new focus was pitched in a full-length episode featuring an architectural contest in which Bob's green utopia was pitted against an ugly mass of skyscrapers. Bob wins the contest, to the relief and enlightenment of all, and is awarded the task of making his vision come alive. During the episode, Bob is what he usually is not--a man on a mission. No more civic redecorating or barn-raising for him! This is a real job. At several points in the episode, he even had all the vehicles chanting "Reduce, reuse, recycle! Reduce, reuse, recycle!" I almost choked on my coffee in annoyance.
Now each mini-episode consists of Bob alone in the wilderness, building his dream one step at a time, while delivering homilies on environmentalism to his captive audience of adoring machines. While Carl still enjoys the show, it's been ruined for me. Now instead of drifting briefly into fantasy land, chuckling over the townspeople's small foibles and unintentional bits of comedy, I'm having this environmentalist agenda shoved down my throat. Even the PC-ness of Sesame Street isn't stressed this much. It's bad enough that children can't just have fun anymore (everything having to carry an "educational" message), but the new, unmistakably political, tone of the show is cruel.
How so?
It's cruel to take a child's little memories and pleasures and twist them to reflect the agenda of some adults who just happen to be in charge and stand to profit from forcing their agenda. You can practically see some producer cackling with glee in anticipation of his next promotion, and some committee of writers sitting around going, "Well, what can Bob say about protecting the environment today? Who cares...somebody brew another pot of coffee and we'll spend 30 seconds chanting Reduce-Reuse-Recycle again." This is not to say that I'm against protecting the environment. It's just that "protecting the environment" has become the mantra of liberals, covering up their real agenda of killing human beings through abortion and euthanasia. They took a sweet little story and turned it into a half-hour long commercial for their platform.
It's cruel to eradicate every last vestige of imagination from television, especially when PBS gets public money to fund programs for poor children which should go toward something besides inculcating an ideology. "Wait a minute, it's just recycling," you point out. "Who can argue with that?" Nobody can. That's the point. It's the camel's nose in the tent, pitched at two-year-olds to soften them up for more propaganda once they get into the schools, where recycling bins proliferate and common sense goes out the window. And even if you don't agree with that, you'd think that there would be a better way than to take a good show that had good writing and production value and turn it into a platform of talking points.
Finally, it's cruel to all the rest of us who live in a diminished world, a world that has sold its birthright--the faith delivered once by Jesus Christ to the saints--for this mess of pottage: a world of paranoia and pornography, of political correctness and contraception, of anti-religious totalitarianism and casual killing. It's cruel to destroy every oasis of joy there is to be had in this howling wilderness, in which human beings exist only to use and be used, and children are simply pawns to be won to one agenda or another. Like the world, Bob has become boring...and that's a real bummer.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Be Nice to Knockers
And now, for a word about door-to-door solicitations.
DISCLAIMER: In taking up this topic, it is not my wish to alienate anybody who simply does not give to any unsolicited requests for donations as a matter of principle. I quite understand this sentiment, as I make it a rule never to commit money over the phone unless I'm the originator of the request.
What I'm after is finding a method of dealing with them that not only does justice to both parties involved, but that harmonizes with Christian, and especially Catholic, principles. I will also not be talking about those solicitations you get over the phone, partly because I have a rule for not giving to them, and partly because elements of the strategy below will also work with phone solicitors.
But doorknockers are a special category, since they are people, and people by definition have souls--souls which you should be interested in saving. Now I'm not talking about handing out tracts, stumping for the Church, and asking them whether they want to go to Mass with you. That would be termed, popularly, as the evangelical approach. What we're talking about here is something subtle, human, practical, and very Catholic, that anyone can do without feeling embarrassed or apologetic about it.
Therefore, doorknockers are a special problem--and a special opportunity. They are also in-your-face unavoidable, and you can't exactly slam down the phone after making pretend static noises and get away with it. You have a commission from God to spread the Gospel, in whatever form you can, even if it means just not being a jerk. Here are some methods I've used that do not pass the test:
1) PRETEND TO NOT BE HOME. This does not work. Either I end up skulking in the bathroom, feeling like an idiot, or the two cars in the driveway and the shrieking toddler give me away. One time the "solicitors," two little neighborhood boys, peeked in our front window, and I was indignant enough to give them a dressing-down for it. Then I felt like a mean idiot.
2) PUT UP A SIGN. This does not work because in order to make the sign effective, it either has to be SO LARGE that all your neighbors can see it from across the street, and thus becomes a real eyesore--as well as making you look reclusive and inhospitable--or it is so small as to be easily ignored by the doorknocker. I once created a sign that I could put up in the window as needed, in lieu of opening the door, but this approach creeped me out, as well as the doorknockers (from what I gathered of the looks on their faces). The effect was, "Help, I'm a prisoner in my own home! Call the 6 o'clock news!"
3) GET RID OF THEM. This involves opening the door, listening to them just long enough to get a word in edgewise, and then declaring your disinterest and slamming the door in their faces. This approach is so repugnant that it not only drives people to use methods 1) and 2) above, but it doesn't always work because you are not always close to a door. For example, today's encounter happened while I was out front mowing the lawn.
4) THE PAYOFF. Let them get their spiel out, squirm a little bit and dig around for a buck or two just to get them off your property.
OK, so how do we deal with these people in a humane and Christian manner?
First, let me say unapologetically that we are on every do-not-call list in existence, and our name is on file with the DMA to not send us all those catalogs. There is nothing wrong with that, in my estimation. Being a Christian does not mean that you must invite an inundation of wasteful, irksome, and sometimes obnoxious marketing attempts. There is nothing wrong with telling people that this is not a good time, their cause is not on your priority list, or that you simply can't afford to add to your charitable donations this month. But you could always consider them for next month. This leads me to strategy #1:
1) SEE THEIR SOUL: The fundamental idea is trying to spread the Gospel to every human being you find in front of you, no matter where you are. So remind yourself that this is a person beloved of God, that he or she has an immortal soul, and "you are the only Bible they may ever read." So quickly pray and ask yourself, "How can I be Jesus to this person?" Not, "What would Jesus do?" but "How can I show the love of Christ and the truth of the Gospel to them, even in just a few minutes?" This necessarily shapes what comes next:
2) LISTEN. Hear them out. Give them a chance to practice their spiel, and try to consider their request. Chances are they're footsore, have been all over the neighborhood, and the rough treatment from some of your neighbors is probably getting them down. You don't have to invite them inside for tea and cookies, but at least give them two minutes of your time. That tells THEM that you truly care about them as a person, even if you aren't buying.
3) ASK FOR MORE INFORMATION. This is the true Gospel test. If you definitely aren't interested, and there's no way you'd ever use that service, tell them politely, smile, and say you're sorry but you hope they have better luck. Practice your manners. BUT if there's any possibility you might use that service, or give to their cause, go ahead and ask some questions. This serves a dual purpose. If you ultimately do not decide to accede to their request, at least you've given them a fair hearing. You may find out about information that interests you but seems unrelated. If you ARE interested in giving or subscribing (or whatever), you need to ask a few more questions simply to verify that you are dealing with a reputable organization, not just a shyster cruising the neighborhood. If they are serious and their organization is legit, they'll be happy to take some time and answer all your questions. Only a crook would suddenly be in a hurry.
4) BE HONEST. I was talking with a DISH satellite sales guy and had come to the point where he was using my phone to inquire about the tax rates attached to the service, and I was reading through the fine print on the contract. The reason I was considering the service was their low promotional rate and the fact that they offered a family package with EWTN, a Catholic cable channel. But the contract was very long, with rigid terms and steep fines if you didn't do everything on the nose. I handed it back to him and said, "I'm sorry. I really would like to do it, I just don't think I can live up to my part of the contract. Sorry to have wasted your time." He was very persistent, but all was polite.
5) BE GENTLE. I don't know quite how to quantify this, but I guess it means that since I started dealing with solicitors in this manner, I've never felt the need to be rude, brusque, or brassy. I always make lots of eye contact, shake hands, and call the person by name. A final note: if there's an opportunity to simply mention my faith in the course of the conversation, I do so. We might be discussing the weather or current events and you could say, "God's in control." Or you could say "Praise God!" if the person relates some good news that seems particularly heaven-sent. "I'll say a prayer for that," can be appropriate if a personal matter enters the conversation. A simple "God bless you," or "Godspeed," as they go on their way will not fall on deaf ears. As an additional note for evangelizing, it occurred to me that I could have a small sign, needlework in the window, or lawn ornament that depicted a blessing, Scripture verse, or saint, so that whoever even knocks on our door will know who we are and what we stand for, and will shape their reaction accordingly.
I mention all this because I did have an encounter today with a doorknocker that convinced me I needed to write all this down. His name was Lawrence, and he volunteers for a missing children's outreach, Operation Lookout. He seemed puzzled by all my questions, but I carefully explained (just being honest) that we have a lot of solicitors come through and I wanted to know who I was dealing with before I donated. I gave him $12 and he gave me a nifty calculator (which, as a tightwad, I use frequently). I had him check over my pepper spray key chain and he gave me some info about that, and he mentioned as an aside that he fixed houses up and rented or sold them. Now I wish I had asked him for some advice on remodeling, but he seemed like he needed to go. But all in all I'd say I got a good deal.
Godspeed, Lawrence.
DISCLAIMER: In taking up this topic, it is not my wish to alienate anybody who simply does not give to any unsolicited requests for donations as a matter of principle. I quite understand this sentiment, as I make it a rule never to commit money over the phone unless I'm the originator of the request.
What I'm after is finding a method of dealing with them that not only does justice to both parties involved, but that harmonizes with Christian, and especially Catholic, principles. I will also not be talking about those solicitations you get over the phone, partly because I have a rule for not giving to them, and partly because elements of the strategy below will also work with phone solicitors.
But doorknockers are a special category, since they are people, and people by definition have souls--souls which you should be interested in saving. Now I'm not talking about handing out tracts, stumping for the Church, and asking them whether they want to go to Mass with you. That would be termed, popularly, as the evangelical approach. What we're talking about here is something subtle, human, practical, and very Catholic, that anyone can do without feeling embarrassed or apologetic about it.
Therefore, doorknockers are a special problem--and a special opportunity. They are also in-your-face unavoidable, and you can't exactly slam down the phone after making pretend static noises and get away with it. You have a commission from God to spread the Gospel, in whatever form you can, even if it means just not being a jerk. Here are some methods I've used that do not pass the test:
1) PRETEND TO NOT BE HOME. This does not work. Either I end up skulking in the bathroom, feeling like an idiot, or the two cars in the driveway and the shrieking toddler give me away. One time the "solicitors," two little neighborhood boys, peeked in our front window, and I was indignant enough to give them a dressing-down for it. Then I felt like a mean idiot.
2) PUT UP A SIGN. This does not work because in order to make the sign effective, it either has to be SO LARGE that all your neighbors can see it from across the street, and thus becomes a real eyesore--as well as making you look reclusive and inhospitable--or it is so small as to be easily ignored by the doorknocker. I once created a sign that I could put up in the window as needed, in lieu of opening the door, but this approach creeped me out, as well as the doorknockers (from what I gathered of the looks on their faces). The effect was, "Help, I'm a prisoner in my own home! Call the 6 o'clock news!"
3) GET RID OF THEM. This involves opening the door, listening to them just long enough to get a word in edgewise, and then declaring your disinterest and slamming the door in their faces. This approach is so repugnant that it not only drives people to use methods 1) and 2) above, but it doesn't always work because you are not always close to a door. For example, today's encounter happened while I was out front mowing the lawn.
4) THE PAYOFF. Let them get their spiel out, squirm a little bit and dig around for a buck or two just to get them off your property.
OK, so how do we deal with these people in a humane and Christian manner?
First, let me say unapologetically that we are on every do-not-call list in existence, and our name is on file with the DMA to not send us all those catalogs. There is nothing wrong with that, in my estimation. Being a Christian does not mean that you must invite an inundation of wasteful, irksome, and sometimes obnoxious marketing attempts. There is nothing wrong with telling people that this is not a good time, their cause is not on your priority list, or that you simply can't afford to add to your charitable donations this month. But you could always consider them for next month. This leads me to strategy #1:
1) SEE THEIR SOUL: The fundamental idea is trying to spread the Gospel to every human being you find in front of you, no matter where you are. So remind yourself that this is a person beloved of God, that he or she has an immortal soul, and "you are the only Bible they may ever read." So quickly pray and ask yourself, "How can I be Jesus to this person?" Not, "What would Jesus do?" but "How can I show the love of Christ and the truth of the Gospel to them, even in just a few minutes?" This necessarily shapes what comes next:
2) LISTEN. Hear them out. Give them a chance to practice their spiel, and try to consider their request. Chances are they're footsore, have been all over the neighborhood, and the rough treatment from some of your neighbors is probably getting them down. You don't have to invite them inside for tea and cookies, but at least give them two minutes of your time. That tells THEM that you truly care about them as a person, even if you aren't buying.
3) ASK FOR MORE INFORMATION. This is the true Gospel test. If you definitely aren't interested, and there's no way you'd ever use that service, tell them politely, smile, and say you're sorry but you hope they have better luck. Practice your manners. BUT if there's any possibility you might use that service, or give to their cause, go ahead and ask some questions. This serves a dual purpose. If you ultimately do not decide to accede to their request, at least you've given them a fair hearing. You may find out about information that interests you but seems unrelated. If you ARE interested in giving or subscribing (or whatever), you need to ask a few more questions simply to verify that you are dealing with a reputable organization, not just a shyster cruising the neighborhood. If they are serious and their organization is legit, they'll be happy to take some time and answer all your questions. Only a crook would suddenly be in a hurry.
4) BE HONEST. I was talking with a DISH satellite sales guy and had come to the point where he was using my phone to inquire about the tax rates attached to the service, and I was reading through the fine print on the contract. The reason I was considering the service was their low promotional rate and the fact that they offered a family package with EWTN, a Catholic cable channel. But the contract was very long, with rigid terms and steep fines if you didn't do everything on the nose. I handed it back to him and said, "I'm sorry. I really would like to do it, I just don't think I can live up to my part of the contract. Sorry to have wasted your time." He was very persistent, but all was polite.
5) BE GENTLE. I don't know quite how to quantify this, but I guess it means that since I started dealing with solicitors in this manner, I've never felt the need to be rude, brusque, or brassy. I always make lots of eye contact, shake hands, and call the person by name. A final note: if there's an opportunity to simply mention my faith in the course of the conversation, I do so. We might be discussing the weather or current events and you could say, "God's in control." Or you could say "Praise God!" if the person relates some good news that seems particularly heaven-sent. "I'll say a prayer for that," can be appropriate if a personal matter enters the conversation. A simple "God bless you," or "Godspeed," as they go on their way will not fall on deaf ears. As an additional note for evangelizing, it occurred to me that I could have a small sign, needlework in the window, or lawn ornament that depicted a blessing, Scripture verse, or saint, so that whoever even knocks on our door will know who we are and what we stand for, and will shape their reaction accordingly.
I mention all this because I did have an encounter today with a doorknocker that convinced me I needed to write all this down. His name was Lawrence, and he volunteers for a missing children's outreach, Operation Lookout. He seemed puzzled by all my questions, but I carefully explained (just being honest) that we have a lot of solicitors come through and I wanted to know who I was dealing with before I donated. I gave him $12 and he gave me a nifty calculator (which, as a tightwad, I use frequently). I had him check over my pepper spray key chain and he gave me some info about that, and he mentioned as an aside that he fixed houses up and rented or sold them. Now I wish I had asked him for some advice on remodeling, but he seemed like he needed to go. But all in all I'd say I got a good deal.
Godspeed, Lawrence.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
It's a Blaine Shame
Whenever current events are concerned, I always tell people that I'm behind on the news--unless it's something of 9/11 proportions--because news in general really stresses me out and depresses me, so I avoid it.
But I am usually not 130 years behind.
It was about that long ago that a certain Henry G. Blaine introduced an amendment to the Federal Constitution that would forever ban any revenues from the government going to support "sectarian" institutions--e.g., Catholic schools. He was taking advantage of a particularly strong current of anti-Catholic feeling among Protestants and "nativists" (those who objected to the hordes of unwashed Catholics showing up on their shores). Well, the amendment failed by only 4 votes, and Blaine wasn't even there to vote on it. But that's not the end of the history lesson.
Since the failure of the "Blaine Amendment," 38 states went on to adopt versions of this legislation in their state constitutions. Adoption of Blaine-syle legislation was, in fact, often a condition of acceptance into the Union for western states. Since controversy surrounding the immigrant problem has faded, so has public memory of the legal veracity of these laws--but they remain on the books. In fact, since they were written using rather general terms (referring to "sectarian" institutions and "religious" purposes, rather than singling out Catholics by name), they are now being interpreted ever more broadly in accordance with the current trend of scouring public schools and spaces of religious references. But the fact is that these laws are unconstitutional--and the Supreme Court knows it.
The legal fallacy these laws fall under is called "religious gerrymandering." Kyle Duncan, in a paper written for Columbia Law School in 2003 (http://law.bepress.com/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1044&context=expresso) points out that, while it is allowable that government might make a law for the general public good that incidentally infringes on the religious practices of some, it amounts to legalized persecution to allow public goods and services to be allotted to the general public while excluding groups that have expressly religious purposes, simply because they are religious. For instance, just because the Federal Government prohibits polygamy does not mean that they are trying to persecute Mormons. The law applies to everybody equally. However, when the State of Washington says that a blind man can't use his state-allotted funds to study to become a minister--simply because, as a minister, he believes the religion--disqualifies him, under the Washington State Constitution, to receive the funds (Witters v. Comm'n for the Blind). Witters was singled out, just because he was religious.
"But wait a minute," you say. "Isn't that just separation of Church and State? I don't see the problem here."
The problem is that the law excludes religious purposes and institutions specifically and exclusively. Said another way: the law treats all citizens equally under the law except where it excludes a certain group precisely because they are religious. Let's say 10 blind people apply to the state for funding for higher education to pursue another career. The state looks over their declared majors: Biology, Computer Science, Music, Teaching, Theology, Master of Divinity, Comparative Religion, Basket-weaving, Forestry, and Criminal Justice. "Hm..." says the state official. "These all look OK except Theology and Master of Divinity. Now, Master of Divinity is right out, since that is a career path leading to the ministry, and we have a law on the books that says nobody can use our money who actually believes in their religion. What about the Theology major? Let's call him up and ask if he actually believes in any specific religion, or if he simply wants to study religion in the abstract, like the Comparative Religion major. If he doesn't believe, it's OK. If he does, then that counts as furthering a religious or sectarian institution and he can't have the funds." Now, if you can come up with a clearer-cut case of discrimination, I'll brew the coffee.
Here's another example. A religious group, wishing to practice a religious rite involving animal sacrifice, finds themselves the object of hasty animal-rights legislation that penalizes their religious activity while allowing the general industry of meatpacking to go on. It's OK for everybody else, except the religious group--because they want to do it as part of their religious practices. Now, if you were to flip these situations on their backsides, and say that it's OK for Mormons to have polygamy, or African cults to sacrifice animals, or blind divinity students to receive public funds, but no one else--these would all be violations of the Establishment Clause. The law can't single out religious groups for certain favors not extended to everyone else, but neither can they withhold resources that are commonly available simply because the applicant is religious or intends to use his share of the resources for religious uses.
On the contrary, the First Amendment Free Speech and Non-Establishment clauses tend to uphold the equal rights of all citizens to have access to benefits generally available to everyone, without regard to their religious affiliation. Hence, the state can't deny welfare benefits to Muslims because they're religious. Schools can't let any kind of club under the sun use their facilities while prohibiting religious clubs from enjoying the same privilege. The Supreme Court has actually developed quite a clean record of respecting people's religious freedoms, when they get the chance. However, at the State level, violations abound as many State Blaine-style laws go far beyond the FS/NE Clauses, as the Witters cases demonstrate.
So now you have the background, I can plainly name the elephant in the room. Thanks to Mr. Blaine and a century of legislative fox-trotting, public money is being kept out of the hands of people who actually want to exercise their religion freely. Catholic parents who want to send their children to Catholic schools are effectively taxed twice when they are denied the option to use whatever portion of public resources is theirs to educate their children in a way that is in line with their religion. Instead, they have to fork out ever-increasing tuition fees on top of their taxes in order to educate their children as conscience dictates. They are singled out in a silent way, since the money is taken out in taxes and no justification is ever advanced as to why they cannot participate equally in the educational benefits doled out by the state.
How do Catholics deal with this? Sadly, many Catholics have few options but to send their kids to public schools. Some can pay for private education if mom works. Some can't even do that. The home-schooling movement appears to be flourishing--for now--but isn't a viable option for everybody. The net result of the current system, I believe, tends to reinforce religious indifference for the Catholic. Catholic parents I've spoken to seem to put an unofficial "cap" on their family size when they get to the point where anxiety sets in about how they're going to pay for a proper Catholic education. The problem is that, while wanting to be good Catholics who educate their children in accord with Church teaching, they end up in a contraceptive mentality that dictates family size in accordance with perceived future costs--which is not Catholic teaching at all.
But I am usually not 130 years behind.
It was about that long ago that a certain Henry G. Blaine introduced an amendment to the Federal Constitution that would forever ban any revenues from the government going to support "sectarian" institutions--e.g., Catholic schools. He was taking advantage of a particularly strong current of anti-Catholic feeling among Protestants and "nativists" (those who objected to the hordes of unwashed Catholics showing up on their shores). Well, the amendment failed by only 4 votes, and Blaine wasn't even there to vote on it. But that's not the end of the history lesson.
Since the failure of the "Blaine Amendment," 38 states went on to adopt versions of this legislation in their state constitutions. Adoption of Blaine-syle legislation was, in fact, often a condition of acceptance into the Union for western states. Since controversy surrounding the immigrant problem has faded, so has public memory of the legal veracity of these laws--but they remain on the books. In fact, since they were written using rather general terms (referring to "sectarian" institutions and "religious" purposes, rather than singling out Catholics by name), they are now being interpreted ever more broadly in accordance with the current trend of scouring public schools and spaces of religious references. But the fact is that these laws are unconstitutional--and the Supreme Court knows it.
The legal fallacy these laws fall under is called "religious gerrymandering." Kyle Duncan, in a paper written for Columbia Law School in 2003 (http://law.bepress.com/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1044&context=expresso) points out that, while it is allowable that government might make a law for the general public good that incidentally infringes on the religious practices of some, it amounts to legalized persecution to allow public goods and services to be allotted to the general public while excluding groups that have expressly religious purposes, simply because they are religious. For instance, just because the Federal Government prohibits polygamy does not mean that they are trying to persecute Mormons. The law applies to everybody equally. However, when the State of Washington says that a blind man can't use his state-allotted funds to study to become a minister--simply because, as a minister, he believes the religion--disqualifies him, under the Washington State Constitution, to receive the funds (Witters v. Comm'n for the Blind). Witters was singled out, just because he was religious.
"But wait a minute," you say. "Isn't that just separation of Church and State? I don't see the problem here."
The problem is that the law excludes religious purposes and institutions specifically and exclusively. Said another way: the law treats all citizens equally under the law except where it excludes a certain group precisely because they are religious. Let's say 10 blind people apply to the state for funding for higher education to pursue another career. The state looks over their declared majors: Biology, Computer Science, Music, Teaching, Theology, Master of Divinity, Comparative Religion, Basket-weaving, Forestry, and Criminal Justice. "Hm..." says the state official. "These all look OK except Theology and Master of Divinity. Now, Master of Divinity is right out, since that is a career path leading to the ministry, and we have a law on the books that says nobody can use our money who actually believes in their religion. What about the Theology major? Let's call him up and ask if he actually believes in any specific religion, or if he simply wants to study religion in the abstract, like the Comparative Religion major. If he doesn't believe, it's OK. If he does, then that counts as furthering a religious or sectarian institution and he can't have the funds." Now, if you can come up with a clearer-cut case of discrimination, I'll brew the coffee.
Here's another example. A religious group, wishing to practice a religious rite involving animal sacrifice, finds themselves the object of hasty animal-rights legislation that penalizes their religious activity while allowing the general industry of meatpacking to go on. It's OK for everybody else, except the religious group--because they want to do it as part of their religious practices. Now, if you were to flip these situations on their backsides, and say that it's OK for Mormons to have polygamy, or African cults to sacrifice animals, or blind divinity students to receive public funds, but no one else--these would all be violations of the Establishment Clause. The law can't single out religious groups for certain favors not extended to everyone else, but neither can they withhold resources that are commonly available simply because the applicant is religious or intends to use his share of the resources for religious uses.
On the contrary, the First Amendment Free Speech and Non-Establishment clauses tend to uphold the equal rights of all citizens to have access to benefits generally available to everyone, without regard to their religious affiliation. Hence, the state can't deny welfare benefits to Muslims because they're religious. Schools can't let any kind of club under the sun use their facilities while prohibiting religious clubs from enjoying the same privilege. The Supreme Court has actually developed quite a clean record of respecting people's religious freedoms, when they get the chance. However, at the State level, violations abound as many State Blaine-style laws go far beyond the FS/NE Clauses, as the Witters cases demonstrate.
So now you have the background, I can plainly name the elephant in the room. Thanks to Mr. Blaine and a century of legislative fox-trotting, public money is being kept out of the hands of people who actually want to exercise their religion freely. Catholic parents who want to send their children to Catholic schools are effectively taxed twice when they are denied the option to use whatever portion of public resources is theirs to educate their children in a way that is in line with their religion. Instead, they have to fork out ever-increasing tuition fees on top of their taxes in order to educate their children as conscience dictates. They are singled out in a silent way, since the money is taken out in taxes and no justification is ever advanced as to why they cannot participate equally in the educational benefits doled out by the state.
How do Catholics deal with this? Sadly, many Catholics have few options but to send their kids to public schools. Some can pay for private education if mom works. Some can't even do that. The home-schooling movement appears to be flourishing--for now--but isn't a viable option for everybody. The net result of the current system, I believe, tends to reinforce religious indifference for the Catholic. Catholic parents I've spoken to seem to put an unofficial "cap" on their family size when they get to the point where anxiety sets in about how they're going to pay for a proper Catholic education. The problem is that, while wanting to be good Catholics who educate their children in accord with Church teaching, they end up in a contraceptive mentality that dictates family size in accordance with perceived future costs--which is not Catholic teaching at all.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Our Sacrifice of Praise
This morning I got up and, immediately starting to rush because I was late, told myself I'd skip Morning Prayer and just say the morning offering. "After all," I reasoned. "It's not as if I've been getting much out of it lately. Might as well take a break." Then I started brushing my teeth.
A thought occurred to me. A still, small voice said, "Since when is prayer all about you? Weren't you just reading last night that we have an obligation to God to offer praise to Him, since it was He who made you, and it is to Him that you owe all you have and are?" That stopped me in my tracks. I was indeed reading about that, last night, in Radio Replies. It said that religion is man's duty to God, since he did not make himself, God did. Every tribe, civilization, and nation since the beginning of time has had religion of some sort or another. Man instinctively knows he owes worship to God. If he denies it, he has to work against his natural inclination, convince himself through rationalization that either God does not exist, or if He does, then we don't owe anything to Him.
Hm. I continued brushing my teeth. The voice kept talking. "And isn't prayer really your substitute for doing the good works you are always saying you're going to do? You are too occupied at present to do them, so you offer prayers up instead for the weak, poor, starving, sick, and dying. Are you going to stop that now, that it isn't 'doing anything' for you?" "Uh..." I thought. "And what about the universal Church?" the voice continued. "That you are always saying you care about, and would like nothing better than to see put to rights. The Office has always been about that. Are you going to leave your duty to that, too? That is, until your prayer life starts to do more for you?"
I was shrinking inside. I looked over at the picture of Jesus I keep on the wall, remembering words from spiritual works I had read about how Jesus aches for souls, how he hungers and thirsts for our love. If I can't throw myself down before the Blessed Sacrament, I tell myself that I will at least say these prayers. And, saying them, I am not doing this for myself, like I would do a yoga class. It is about God's due.
This whole conversation--this fabric of prayers, thoughts, and feelings that I feel connects me with God from day to day--must be nourished by something. If you want to lead a holy life, you must have power. You cannot do that in and of yourself. However, God also must receive his due. You must do for him, even when you don't feel like it. Even when it isn't really "doing anything" for you. That's what makes it a sacrifice, and even more precious in His sight.
A thought occurred to me. A still, small voice said, "Since when is prayer all about you? Weren't you just reading last night that we have an obligation to God to offer praise to Him, since it was He who made you, and it is to Him that you owe all you have and are?" That stopped me in my tracks. I was indeed reading about that, last night, in Radio Replies. It said that religion is man's duty to God, since he did not make himself, God did. Every tribe, civilization, and nation since the beginning of time has had religion of some sort or another. Man instinctively knows he owes worship to God. If he denies it, he has to work against his natural inclination, convince himself through rationalization that either God does not exist, or if He does, then we don't owe anything to Him.
Hm. I continued brushing my teeth. The voice kept talking. "And isn't prayer really your substitute for doing the good works you are always saying you're going to do? You are too occupied at present to do them, so you offer prayers up instead for the weak, poor, starving, sick, and dying. Are you going to stop that now, that it isn't 'doing anything' for you?" "Uh..." I thought. "And what about the universal Church?" the voice continued. "That you are always saying you care about, and would like nothing better than to see put to rights. The Office has always been about that. Are you going to leave your duty to that, too? That is, until your prayer life starts to do more for you?"
I was shrinking inside. I looked over at the picture of Jesus I keep on the wall, remembering words from spiritual works I had read about how Jesus aches for souls, how he hungers and thirsts for our love. If I can't throw myself down before the Blessed Sacrament, I tell myself that I will at least say these prayers. And, saying them, I am not doing this for myself, like I would do a yoga class. It is about God's due.
This whole conversation--this fabric of prayers, thoughts, and feelings that I feel connects me with God from day to day--must be nourished by something. If you want to lead a holy life, you must have power. You cannot do that in and of yourself. However, God also must receive his due. You must do for him, even when you don't feel like it. Even when it isn't really "doing anything" for you. That's what makes it a sacrifice, and even more precious in His sight.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
My Screed on Abortion
Consider this scenario: My toddler, full of energy and happiness, thinks that putting his hand on the stove burner is a good idea. Horrified, I move to stop him, resulting in a temper tantrum from him because I denied his "choice."
Illogical? Just plain mean? Or the compassionate response of a loving mother who knows what's best for her child? I think you would answer the latter. And yet, the abortion debate is full of such scenarios as these, in which the toddler is given his way for the sake of "choice." If the logic of abortion were used in any other arena, its arguments and methodology would not stand for an instant.
Driving down the highway today, I notice a pro-abortion bumper sticker that said, "If you will not trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?" I stared at this sticker, and tried to figure out on what planet this would be a logical statement. Leaving aside the euphemistic and imprecise nature of this term, "choice," for a moment, I have to emphasize that what they mean when they say "choice" is KILL THE CHILD WHILE IT'S IN THE WOMB AND NO ONE WILL KNOW. Obviously, someone cannot be trusted with a child if there's a chance that they might kill that child. And if "choice" is simply another name for killing the child, well, they cannot be trusted with a choice, either. That's what CPS, adoption, and foster parents are for.
Frankly, murder is just not a moral option when you're faced with an "unplanned" pregnancy. And if you don't think abortion is murder, I hope you run into one of those disgusting pictures of a tiny murdered aborted child. And I hope you throw up.
Illogical? Just plain mean? Or the compassionate response of a loving mother who knows what's best for her child? I think you would answer the latter. And yet, the abortion debate is full of such scenarios as these, in which the toddler is given his way for the sake of "choice." If the logic of abortion were used in any other arena, its arguments and methodology would not stand for an instant.
Driving down the highway today, I notice a pro-abortion bumper sticker that said, "If you will not trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?" I stared at this sticker, and tried to figure out on what planet this would be a logical statement. Leaving aside the euphemistic and imprecise nature of this term, "choice," for a moment, I have to emphasize that what they mean when they say "choice" is KILL THE CHILD WHILE IT'S IN THE WOMB AND NO ONE WILL KNOW. Obviously, someone cannot be trusted with a child if there's a chance that they might kill that child. And if "choice" is simply another name for killing the child, well, they cannot be trusted with a choice, either. That's what CPS, adoption, and foster parents are for.
Frankly, murder is just not a moral option when you're faced with an "unplanned" pregnancy. And if you don't think abortion is murder, I hope you run into one of those disgusting pictures of a tiny murdered aborted child. And I hope you throw up.
Friday, May 19, 2006
The Desert of the Real
The Catholic concept of "the desert" is one that fascinates me. I first heard it mentioned by Saint Therese of Liseux, in her spiritual autobiography, Story of a Soul. Beginning with the Desert Fathers, a few monks chose to separate themselves as hermits, ascetics who lived in wastes considered uninhabitable by their cloistered cohorts. Throughout the history of the Church, as life in a consecrated community became more worldly, various renewal efforts (spearheaded by such saints as Theresa of Avila) drew on this tradition of going to "the desert." To purify oneself spiritually, renounce worldly temptations, and subject oneself to the suffering that was unavoidable in such a deprived environment--was seen as a path to holiness.
St. Therese thought of her entrance into the Carmelite convent as "going to the desert."
Sometimes I think of my life in these terms. As a woman, I feel my identity springs from my vocation as a wife and mother. But while some might think that life as a lay person is less challenging and less spiritually rich than the monastery, I beg to differ. Our opportunities to grow in holiness are limited only by our capacity to endure suffering. And there is just as much suffering available in the life of the housewife as there is anywhere else. Dust and dirt, aches and pains, and countless little sacrifices make up the rocks and sand of my desert.
Many times during the day I tell myself to stop feeling so sorry for myself. I have everything I could possibly want, and yet I find myself wanting more. After doing heaps of laundry, I want more clothes. After dusting shelves of books, I want more entertainment. After forgetting about all the people I've promised to call, I feel lonely and complain that I have no friends. More than anything I feel the lack of time. I seem to have all the time in the world--sheesh, she's a stay-at-home-mom, what in the world does she do all day?--goes the refrain in my head. But I know that my time has severe limits on it. Every fifteen minutes I have to make decisions like, "Gosh, I'm really hungry, but if I water the roses NOW, I can get it done before the baby gets up and maybe I can grab something to eat while I nurse him." Or: "Man, I wish I could get my hair cut and look a little more up-to-date, but I've got so many things in my schedule, I can't possibly fit in a pleasure jaunt just for me." Or: "My writing is so neglected I should at least find half an hour to write SOMETHING, but if I were to do that, I'm giving up sleep that I need to NOT be a monster to my kids tomorrow."
The desert is suffering. It is the pain of loss--not necessarily loss of life or limb, or even the loss of comfort--but loss of the sense of limitlessness that our culture offers up and commercializes as if it were candy. Take a trip to Maui, it says. Try our new camera phone. Treat yourself to dinner. Live a little. Believe in yourself. Achieve your potential. You, you, you. It soothes us with an endless murmuring lullaby of self. My sacrifice, my penance, my path to holiness, as it were--consists in resisting the pull of that voice. Every time I can say no to it I achieve a spiritual victory. But I am often left feeling dry and somewhat deflated.
Then the little self-pity voice starts again. "You are giving up so much. You are such a good mother. Surely you'll achieve sainthood for this. Oh, don't worry about that little indulgence there. God will understand. You're only human. After all, how many people do you know who make all the little sacrifices you do? How many people are blessed with these insights? You ought to write them all down, you know. Then one day people will read what you wrote and quote it and you'll be acclaimed as a great mystic." Then I have to turn away from that voice, and so it goes...
That's the real reason I haven't been writing. The struggle is demoralizing. And I don't know if I could even "cut back" on the many things that seem necessary at any given moment. As soon as a thing appears to be unnecessary (or I discover time-savers and more efficient ways of doing things), I might try. But I think one of the consequences of original sin is not only pride and envy, but also a disordered sense of time. The truth is that there was NEVER a time that was less hectic, or more easy-going. In my life, or even in history, I think.
When I think about my life right now, there's a line in The Matrix that comes to my mind: "Welcome to the desert of the real." The movie is about discovering what's behind the illusion that our lives are composed of. I can agree with a lot of the movie's aspects, except the idea that a lot of soulless machines are behind it all. I believe, instead, that God is behind it, but sometimes the illusion is so compelling that many people can't imagine there is a God, much less that he cares about us as individuals.
My struggle is trying to pierce that illusion, even if only once a day.
St. Therese thought of her entrance into the Carmelite convent as "going to the desert."
Sometimes I think of my life in these terms. As a woman, I feel my identity springs from my vocation as a wife and mother. But while some might think that life as a lay person is less challenging and less spiritually rich than the monastery, I beg to differ. Our opportunities to grow in holiness are limited only by our capacity to endure suffering. And there is just as much suffering available in the life of the housewife as there is anywhere else. Dust and dirt, aches and pains, and countless little sacrifices make up the rocks and sand of my desert.
Many times during the day I tell myself to stop feeling so sorry for myself. I have everything I could possibly want, and yet I find myself wanting more. After doing heaps of laundry, I want more clothes. After dusting shelves of books, I want more entertainment. After forgetting about all the people I've promised to call, I feel lonely and complain that I have no friends. More than anything I feel the lack of time. I seem to have all the time in the world--sheesh, she's a stay-at-home-mom, what in the world does she do all day?--goes the refrain in my head. But I know that my time has severe limits on it. Every fifteen minutes I have to make decisions like, "Gosh, I'm really hungry, but if I water the roses NOW, I can get it done before the baby gets up and maybe I can grab something to eat while I nurse him." Or: "Man, I wish I could get my hair cut and look a little more up-to-date, but I've got so many things in my schedule, I can't possibly fit in a pleasure jaunt just for me." Or: "My writing is so neglected I should at least find half an hour to write SOMETHING, but if I were to do that, I'm giving up sleep that I need to NOT be a monster to my kids tomorrow."
The desert is suffering. It is the pain of loss--not necessarily loss of life or limb, or even the loss of comfort--but loss of the sense of limitlessness that our culture offers up and commercializes as if it were candy. Take a trip to Maui, it says. Try our new camera phone. Treat yourself to dinner. Live a little. Believe in yourself. Achieve your potential. You, you, you. It soothes us with an endless murmuring lullaby of self. My sacrifice, my penance, my path to holiness, as it were--consists in resisting the pull of that voice. Every time I can say no to it I achieve a spiritual victory. But I am often left feeling dry and somewhat deflated.
Then the little self-pity voice starts again. "You are giving up so much. You are such a good mother. Surely you'll achieve sainthood for this. Oh, don't worry about that little indulgence there. God will understand. You're only human. After all, how many people do you know who make all the little sacrifices you do? How many people are blessed with these insights? You ought to write them all down, you know. Then one day people will read what you wrote and quote it and you'll be acclaimed as a great mystic." Then I have to turn away from that voice, and so it goes...
That's the real reason I haven't been writing. The struggle is demoralizing. And I don't know if I could even "cut back" on the many things that seem necessary at any given moment. As soon as a thing appears to be unnecessary (or I discover time-savers and more efficient ways of doing things), I might try. But I think one of the consequences of original sin is not only pride and envy, but also a disordered sense of time. The truth is that there was NEVER a time that was less hectic, or more easy-going. In my life, or even in history, I think.
When I think about my life right now, there's a line in The Matrix that comes to my mind: "Welcome to the desert of the real." The movie is about discovering what's behind the illusion that our lives are composed of. I can agree with a lot of the movie's aspects, except the idea that a lot of soulless machines are behind it all. I believe, instead, that God is behind it, but sometimes the illusion is so compelling that many people can't imagine there is a God, much less that he cares about us as individuals.
My struggle is trying to pierce that illusion, even if only once a day.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Triumph: A Book Review
Every history has an agenda. For example, in a college class our history instructor had picked a textbook all about "the worker." The book detailed the strikes and riots and printed excerpts from the workers' songs and newsheets. I thought it all very interesting--until I found out that our beloved professor was a card-carrying member of the American Communist Party.
My point is that, while a book like Triumph: The Power and the Glory of the Catholic Church was, in a sense, MADE to be dismissed by the academic trendsetters of modernity as a pointless anachronism, it nonetheless differs in no way from any other history on the market in its adoption of an agenda. One gets the sense that, like the workers' textbook, Triumph exists not only to vindicate the Church's role in history, but also to put that role in its proper perspective--a perspective that is often buried under an avalanche of anti-Catholic prejudice.
The book is a blast of fresh air in a room stuffy with the secondhand smoke of the Protestant Reformation. For the first two-thirds, I could hardly put it down. Harry Crocker gallops through history with all the skill and virility of a Crusader going at full tilt--without missing any of his targets. The years whip by so quickly, it seems the darkness of paganism lurks just beyond the streetlights of the modern European state. The ancient barbarism of the Germanic tribes seethes beneath Hitler's triumphant Reich. Italy is a land of ancient rivalries and modern political chaos, Mafiosi-style. Spain is a noble woman who, after having been knocked down a few too many times, is ruthless in her pursuit of an idyllic Catholic state. And the enduring zealotry of the French turns to nightmare during the Revolution, when all truth seems to die.
Indeed, once the whiplash caught up with me, things had gotten so bloody that I had to put the book down and accept a dark truth. Things were not getting any better. Despite all our claims of "progress," the 20th century saw more blood shed in the name of atheism than in any of the wars over religion. Persecution of the Church hadn't gone away--it had increased. In the first few years of Stalin's reign, hundreds of thousands of Catholics simply disappeared. Four million Catholics perished alongside the six million Jews during the Holocaust. More than ever, the Pope seemed to be a lone voice crying out in the wilderness for justice, for peace, and for the dignity of man. And yet never was an institution more ruthlessly attacked.
Throughout the Church's history, with the deadening predictability of death and war, priests and religious have been martyred, exiled, marginalized and penalized in every conceivable way. Church property has been seized, smashed, and sacked in every age. Catholic lay people, women and children, have been dragged from their homes and slaughtered. Soon the truth starts to build in the back of your mind that, if the things that people say about the Church--that it's a man-made institution that simply exists because of a consolidation of power--are true, then history needs to be hidden from view, because it tells a much different story. How can it be that priests, monks, and female religious would put themselves on the front lines, set themselves apart in a highly visible and controversial fashion, in age after age, if they were simply the dupes of a power-hungry papal dynasty? As a matter of fact, no dynasty, no nation, no tribe, and no dictator has ever existed as long, and in the same essential form, as the Catholic Church.
Crocker doesn't pull any punches--all the papal pecadilloes are here. And yet, while littered with pragmatist popes and overzealous generals, the history of the Church is still the history of Western Civilization. For centuries, the papacy was the axis around which Europe turned and--after the rise of the nation-state--the lodestar to which the Western world looked as its man-made institutions began to crumble. Amid internal strife and invasion, it was the Popes who kept the peace--often with their own armies--upholding the transcendent concept that there was a Power above kings and nobles. As each new heresy threatened to split the fabric of society, consecrated men and women stepped from the shadows to preach, to admonish, and to purify the Church that they loved. And we are reminded that it is ultimately the influence of the Church that brought King John to Runnymede to sign the Magna Carta, and it is those same principles of liberty--"the traditional rights of Englishmen"--which are enshrined in our own Declaration of Independence.
The paradox of the Church is that she could be so great, and yet filled with men who appear weak, sinful, and at times--antithetical to the Church's raison d'etre. So many people look at the facts about the Church and ask, "How can this be the church of Jesus Christ?" I submit that after reading this book, one can draw only two conclusions. Either the author has been entirely disingenuous, or we may have to admit that there is no way that any institution of merely human origin has survived for so long and still remains.
This is the Church of Jesus Christ. Sometimes she looks weak, sometimes ridiculous, and always like a flame that wavers as if about to go out. Men have sought to annihilate her in every age, but the gates of Hell have never prevailed over Christ's Bride. Chock-full of sinners as a hospital is of the sick, the Church remains, with arms open wide with mercy--because She is the path, the narrow way...even the foolish-looking way.
I am reminded of the Donatists who, in the time of Augustine in the fifth century, maintained that he who had collapsed under torture and denied the Church should not be readmitted to the sacraments because they would make the Church impure. St. Augustine, who for love of his Lord strove to heal the breach, preached peace and mercy to them:
"Nothing in you do we hate, nothing detest, nothing denounce, nothing condemn, except human error. We repeat, we detest human error from regard for divine truth, but we acknowledge all of God's graces [sacraments] in you, while whatever in you has gone astray we would correct....The stray is the one I would seek out, find, admonish, approach, take by hand, and lead, correcting the deserter, not defacing his divine image" (Willis 109).
My point is that, while a book like Triumph: The Power and the Glory of the Catholic Church was, in a sense, MADE to be dismissed by the academic trendsetters of modernity as a pointless anachronism, it nonetheless differs in no way from any other history on the market in its adoption of an agenda. One gets the sense that, like the workers' textbook, Triumph exists not only to vindicate the Church's role in history, but also to put that role in its proper perspective--a perspective that is often buried under an avalanche of anti-Catholic prejudice.
The book is a blast of fresh air in a room stuffy with the secondhand smoke of the Protestant Reformation. For the first two-thirds, I could hardly put it down. Harry Crocker gallops through history with all the skill and virility of a Crusader going at full tilt--without missing any of his targets. The years whip by so quickly, it seems the darkness of paganism lurks just beyond the streetlights of the modern European state. The ancient barbarism of the Germanic tribes seethes beneath Hitler's triumphant Reich. Italy is a land of ancient rivalries and modern political chaos, Mafiosi-style. Spain is a noble woman who, after having been knocked down a few too many times, is ruthless in her pursuit of an idyllic Catholic state. And the enduring zealotry of the French turns to nightmare during the Revolution, when all truth seems to die.
Indeed, once the whiplash caught up with me, things had gotten so bloody that I had to put the book down and accept a dark truth. Things were not getting any better. Despite all our claims of "progress," the 20th century saw more blood shed in the name of atheism than in any of the wars over religion. Persecution of the Church hadn't gone away--it had increased. In the first few years of Stalin's reign, hundreds of thousands of Catholics simply disappeared. Four million Catholics perished alongside the six million Jews during the Holocaust. More than ever, the Pope seemed to be a lone voice crying out in the wilderness for justice, for peace, and for the dignity of man. And yet never was an institution more ruthlessly attacked.
Throughout the Church's history, with the deadening predictability of death and war, priests and religious have been martyred, exiled, marginalized and penalized in every conceivable way. Church property has been seized, smashed, and sacked in every age. Catholic lay people, women and children, have been dragged from their homes and slaughtered. Soon the truth starts to build in the back of your mind that, if the things that people say about the Church--that it's a man-made institution that simply exists because of a consolidation of power--are true, then history needs to be hidden from view, because it tells a much different story. How can it be that priests, monks, and female religious would put themselves on the front lines, set themselves apart in a highly visible and controversial fashion, in age after age, if they were simply the dupes of a power-hungry papal dynasty? As a matter of fact, no dynasty, no nation, no tribe, and no dictator has ever existed as long, and in the same essential form, as the Catholic Church.
Crocker doesn't pull any punches--all the papal pecadilloes are here. And yet, while littered with pragmatist popes and overzealous generals, the history of the Church is still the history of Western Civilization. For centuries, the papacy was the axis around which Europe turned and--after the rise of the nation-state--the lodestar to which the Western world looked as its man-made institutions began to crumble. Amid internal strife and invasion, it was the Popes who kept the peace--often with their own armies--upholding the transcendent concept that there was a Power above kings and nobles. As each new heresy threatened to split the fabric of society, consecrated men and women stepped from the shadows to preach, to admonish, and to purify the Church that they loved. And we are reminded that it is ultimately the influence of the Church that brought King John to Runnymede to sign the Magna Carta, and it is those same principles of liberty--"the traditional rights of Englishmen"--which are enshrined in our own Declaration of Independence.
The paradox of the Church is that she could be so great, and yet filled with men who appear weak, sinful, and at times--antithetical to the Church's raison d'etre. So many people look at the facts about the Church and ask, "How can this be the church of Jesus Christ?" I submit that after reading this book, one can draw only two conclusions. Either the author has been entirely disingenuous, or we may have to admit that there is no way that any institution of merely human origin has survived for so long and still remains.
This is the Church of Jesus Christ. Sometimes she looks weak, sometimes ridiculous, and always like a flame that wavers as if about to go out. Men have sought to annihilate her in every age, but the gates of Hell have never prevailed over Christ's Bride. Chock-full of sinners as a hospital is of the sick, the Church remains, with arms open wide with mercy--because She is the path, the narrow way...even the foolish-looking way.
I am reminded of the Donatists who, in the time of Augustine in the fifth century, maintained that he who had collapsed under torture and denied the Church should not be readmitted to the sacraments because they would make the Church impure. St. Augustine, who for love of his Lord strove to heal the breach, preached peace and mercy to them:
"Nothing in you do we hate, nothing detest, nothing denounce, nothing condemn, except human error. We repeat, we detest human error from regard for divine truth, but we acknowledge all of God's graces [sacraments] in you, while whatever in you has gone astray we would correct....The stray is the one I would seek out, find, admonish, approach, take by hand, and lead, correcting the deserter, not defacing his divine image" (Willis 109).
Thursday, February 09, 2006
My Continuing Fascination with Judge Judy
Thought I'd have a light television moment. Since football season is over (leaving me at the mercy of American Idol and ads for grisly new crime shows), I'm getting nostalgic for the show that brings me all the drama and pathos of the low life, without all the viewer discretion. Now, obviously this is TV and even "reality" shows don't have much to do with reality, but the parade of cases on Judge Judy is so reflective of our national mood and the general level of morality, etiquette, and interpersonal relationships that it makes an interesting cultural study. Plus, I just love Judy.
For those unfamiliar with Judith Sheindlin herself, she's a real retired family court judge, but her court isn't a real court. The litigants agree to have Judge Judy arbitrate their claims on national television, and the producers of the show pay out the awards. In fact, Judge Judy is THE successor to The People's Court, which stopped airing in 1993. The other court shows are trying to cash in on her success, but Judge Judy is the real success story here.
Why is she so popular? The winners may come away with money, but rarely their dignity. Judge Judy is the Dr. Laura Schlessinger of the legal world, and both women have as their calling card plain talk and the ability to ferret out the lies and hidden motives of those who come to them, who often end up looking ridiculous. Roomate wars, boyfriend/girlfriend spats, petty assault, harrassment, and the ever-popular "I gave him a loan/No, it was a gift"--everyone's story is heard and vivisected, while it is Judge Judy--"The Ultimate Truth Machine"--whose viewpoint prevails.
In fact, the show wouldn't be nearly as entertaining if her less truthful or prepared litigants didn't get humiliated on a regular basis. You'd better not talk out of turn, or interrupt her. She has no mercy for deadbeat dads, delinquent tenants, careless pet owners, or angry motorists. She tells people what they probably need to hear but that nobody else has the guts to tell them: "I suggest that you get a job." "You are full of baloney!" "If it doesn't make sense, it's not true!" "Are you a lowlife sir?! Yes you are!" And my personal favorite: "You're not the boss, Applesauce!" (I plan to use this line on my toddler.)
Judy's emphasis on the truth is telling. People want justice. If they didn't want it, we wouldn't have shows like this. But nobody is prepared to believe that the incident was THEIR FAULT. She faces an endless parade of the consequences of sin in a world in which no one is willing to admit it exists. It amazes me that a nation which rejects a divine Judge with supreme power to decide big, cosmic issues embraces TV shows about human judges with limited power to settle small claims--and the harsher and more arbitrary the judge, the better. People seem to be eager for humiliation, but not humility. They will confess their sins to the world, but not to God's agent in the confessional. Instead of seeking truth, they seek "The Ultimate Truth Machine."
Of course the show is not reality, and my comparison doesn't go far enough. But if we imagine for a moment just how our cosmic judgment is going to go, it would bear little resemblance to a TV court. There will be no cross-examination, because God knows everything you did. There will be no need for evidence or witnesses. He can see to the heart of all our motives, our excuses, our prideful denials. He can see the times in our lives when we took the right fork in the road and we know we should have taken the left. And there will be no appeal. It is God's viewpoint that will prevail.
What will there be left to say, at that moment, in our defense? The thought may well make us shudder, as it should. How do we know we are on the right path? How do we know that we will be justified before Him? These days there's a truth for sale in every ideology on the market. But shows like Judge Judy are a reflection of an eternal reality--a real Truth. And we should care about finding it.
For those unfamiliar with Judith Sheindlin herself, she's a real retired family court judge, but her court isn't a real court. The litigants agree to have Judge Judy arbitrate their claims on national television, and the producers of the show pay out the awards. In fact, Judge Judy is THE successor to The People's Court, which stopped airing in 1993. The other court shows are trying to cash in on her success, but Judge Judy is the real success story here.
Why is she so popular? The winners may come away with money, but rarely their dignity. Judge Judy is the Dr. Laura Schlessinger of the legal world, and both women have as their calling card plain talk and the ability to ferret out the lies and hidden motives of those who come to them, who often end up looking ridiculous. Roomate wars, boyfriend/girlfriend spats, petty assault, harrassment, and the ever-popular "I gave him a loan/No, it was a gift"--everyone's story is heard and vivisected, while it is Judge Judy--"The Ultimate Truth Machine"--whose viewpoint prevails.
In fact, the show wouldn't be nearly as entertaining if her less truthful or prepared litigants didn't get humiliated on a regular basis. You'd better not talk out of turn, or interrupt her. She has no mercy for deadbeat dads, delinquent tenants, careless pet owners, or angry motorists. She tells people what they probably need to hear but that nobody else has the guts to tell them: "I suggest that you get a job." "You are full of baloney!" "If it doesn't make sense, it's not true!" "Are you a lowlife sir?! Yes you are!" And my personal favorite: "You're not the boss, Applesauce!" (I plan to use this line on my toddler.)
Judy's emphasis on the truth is telling. People want justice. If they didn't want it, we wouldn't have shows like this. But nobody is prepared to believe that the incident was THEIR FAULT. She faces an endless parade of the consequences of sin in a world in which no one is willing to admit it exists. It amazes me that a nation which rejects a divine Judge with supreme power to decide big, cosmic issues embraces TV shows about human judges with limited power to settle small claims--and the harsher and more arbitrary the judge, the better. People seem to be eager for humiliation, but not humility. They will confess their sins to the world, but not to God's agent in the confessional. Instead of seeking truth, they seek "The Ultimate Truth Machine."
Of course the show is not reality, and my comparison doesn't go far enough. But if we imagine for a moment just how our cosmic judgment is going to go, it would bear little resemblance to a TV court. There will be no cross-examination, because God knows everything you did. There will be no need for evidence or witnesses. He can see to the heart of all our motives, our excuses, our prideful denials. He can see the times in our lives when we took the right fork in the road and we know we should have taken the left. And there will be no appeal. It is God's viewpoint that will prevail.
What will there be left to say, at that moment, in our defense? The thought may well make us shudder, as it should. How do we know we are on the right path? How do we know that we will be justified before Him? These days there's a truth for sale in every ideology on the market. But shows like Judge Judy are a reflection of an eternal reality--a real Truth. And we should care about finding it.
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