Sr Marie Paul's long-awaited book is out, a worthy successor, perhaps, to Sr. Kathryn's "depression" series.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
From Pauline pens...
Sr Marie Paul's long-awaited book is out, a worthy successor, perhaps, to Sr. Kathryn's "depression" series.
Now I get it...
A few months ago, I was invited to join the Chicago Tribune's panel of guest religion bloggers. I got my superiors' permission to accept (you'll even find my picture and a brief bio on the Tribune site), but so far I haven't had anything published. The religion editor (who is also the religion writer) didn't quite explain the procedure. I thought I was supposed to make occasional contributions, and as the only Catholic on the list, I feel more than a little anxious lest my contributions be counterproductive! But I sent in something a few weeks ago (on the editor's suggestion) and then again this morning.
Finally, though, I get how this works.
The editor sends an email to all the bloggers, suggesting a particular news item that could use the various perspectives of the churches, synagogues and secular humanist fellowships. Then a variety of perspectives on that one (or some closely related) topic are offered on the religion blog.
Well, in one way that lets me off the hook. Most of the topics are so far out of my range of experience that I really have very little to offer. (That doesn't let me off the hood for finding something to offer by way of calling up Catholic leaders...something else I am realizing today.)
On the other hand, in so many things, the Catholic "take" comes from such a different worldview, that it very well could be that the things I would most be in a position to write about (today's topic, as posted below, for instance) would be the things that are least likely to be asked for--because just about everyone else is in agreement among themselves and with the culture.
At least I get how this works, now. And I can be on the lookout for those topics about which I am personally clueless--because if I'm going to be the Catholic voice on the Tribune, it's important that I get the Catholic perspective out there.
Pray for that, won't you?
Finally, though, I get how this works.
The editor sends an email to all the bloggers, suggesting a particular news item that could use the various perspectives of the churches, synagogues and secular humanist fellowships. Then a variety of perspectives on that one (or some closely related) topic are offered on the religion blog.
Well, in one way that lets me off the hook. Most of the topics are so far out of my range of experience that I really have very little to offer. (That doesn't let me off the hood for finding something to offer by way of calling up Catholic leaders...something else I am realizing today.)
On the other hand, in so many things, the Catholic "take" comes from such a different worldview, that it very well could be that the things I would most be in a position to write about (today's topic, as posted below, for instance) would be the things that are least likely to be asked for--because just about everyone else is in agreement among themselves and with the culture.
At least I get how this works, now. And I can be on the lookout for those topics about which I am personally clueless--because if I'm going to be the Catholic voice on the Tribune, it's important that I get the Catholic perspective out there.
Pray for that, won't you?
Desperation and the Indefensible
Where is King Solomon when you need him? He once made a landmark ruling in a case involving parental rights (remember that one?), but the situation outlined on the front page of today's Chicago Tribune would have stymied even that famously wise king: When couples are so desperate for children that they resort to IVF, what is the "right thing" to do with embryos that they do not intend, ever, to bring to birth?
Just six days from now, the US Catholic bishops will be voting on a teaching document addressing the root reasons for questions like this: the astoundingly high infertility rate in the US. (No one seems to be asking if this is related to the profligate use of chemical contraceptives; does anyone really want to know?)
The bishops' draft document, entitled "Life-Giving Love in an Age of Technology," acknowledges the suffering many couples endure in discovering that they are unable to conceive as easily as they expected. Couples aren't going to be told to just "offer it up" (Catholic speak for "give up the whole idea in a spirit of worshipful submission"); in many cases, there are natural solutions that don't involve lives brought into existence in a Petri dish, but the challenges for Catholics are enormous.
When people are driven to defend the indefensible, there is generally something else at stake--something truly valuable, like the desire for children. This one value becomes such an overriding concern that every other value can be sacrificed or dismissed, and if there is any immorality involved, it is the sin of suggesting that one or another course of action may involve actual evil. In such an intimate and highly emotional setting, people who most need the objective guidance of moral teaching may be the least likely to accept it. In the case of infertility, cultural assumptions as well as a veritable "reproductive-industrial complex" (that includes embryonic research facilities) all but guarantee that couples will be left in the dark about effective alternative approaches to infertility (like NaPro, which is fully acceptable by Catholic moral standards). And then there is the ultimate, unanswerable rationale, "But this is what we want."
That deep "want" that becomes more than a desire or a felt need but a demand that must be met at all costs, leads to unspeakable consequences. I am still trying to wrap my head around the response of the mother who would prefer to give her children's unimplanted embryonic siblings over to experimentation rather than see them carried to term and brought up by another woman (although the Church doesn't recommend this, either). Her husband disagrees with her about experimentation, but he, too, uses the utilitarian language of "waste" and "opportunity." As much as this couple desired (for years!) to bring children into this world, and as much as they now want the best for the two who were born to them, what a disconnect there is with regard to the offspring that remain in their frozen world! Don't parents do what is best for their own children? Since when do abstract considerations outweigh the immediate good of human lives that are already present and "viable"? It was desperation that led to this seeming impasse: desperation and an inability to see things in a different light. And this is where the Catholic Church really does have something unique to offer.
Pope John Paul II called it the "Theology of the Body."
But that's for another post. (And another live streaming class this Saturday!)
US Bishops Press Release
NaPro Fertility Care
A mommy blog that touches on some of these issues
In the same issue of the Tribune: a beauty school where amazing fertility is the norm
This post is being submitted to the Chicago Tribune's religion blog, "The Seeker," since I have been invited to be an occasional guest blogger.
Just six days from now, the US Catholic bishops will be voting on a teaching document addressing the root reasons for questions like this: the astoundingly high infertility rate in the US. (No one seems to be asking if this is related to the profligate use of chemical contraceptives; does anyone really want to know?)
The bishops' draft document, entitled "Life-Giving Love in an Age of Technology," acknowledges the suffering many couples endure in discovering that they are unable to conceive as easily as they expected. Couples aren't going to be told to just "offer it up" (Catholic speak for "give up the whole idea in a spirit of worshipful submission"); in many cases, there are natural solutions that don't involve lives brought into existence in a Petri dish, but the challenges for Catholics are enormous.
When people are driven to defend the indefensible, there is generally something else at stake--something truly valuable, like the desire for children. This one value becomes such an overriding concern that every other value can be sacrificed or dismissed, and if there is any immorality involved, it is the sin of suggesting that one or another course of action may involve actual evil. In such an intimate and highly emotional setting, people who most need the objective guidance of moral teaching may be the least likely to accept it. In the case of infertility, cultural assumptions as well as a veritable "reproductive-industrial complex" (that includes embryonic research facilities) all but guarantee that couples will be left in the dark about effective alternative approaches to infertility (like NaPro, which is fully acceptable by Catholic moral standards). And then there is the ultimate, unanswerable rationale, "But this is what we want."
That deep "want" that becomes more than a desire or a felt need but a demand that must be met at all costs, leads to unspeakable consequences. I am still trying to wrap my head around the response of the mother who would prefer to give her children's unimplanted embryonic siblings over to experimentation rather than see them carried to term and brought up by another woman (although the Church doesn't recommend this, either). Her husband disagrees with her about experimentation, but he, too, uses the utilitarian language of "waste" and "opportunity." As much as this couple desired (for years!) to bring children into this world, and as much as they now want the best for the two who were born to them, what a disconnect there is with regard to the offspring that remain in their frozen world! Don't parents do what is best for their own children? Since when do abstract considerations outweigh the immediate good of human lives that are already present and "viable"? It was desperation that led to this seeming impasse: desperation and an inability to see things in a different light. And this is where the Catholic Church really does have something unique to offer.
Pope John Paul II called it the "Theology of the Body."
But that's for another post. (And another live streaming class this Saturday!)
US Bishops Press Release
NaPro Fertility Care
A mommy blog that touches on some of these issues
In the same issue of the Tribune: a beauty school where amazing fertility is the norm
This post is being submitted to the Chicago Tribune's religion blog, "The Seeker," since I have been invited to be an occasional guest blogger.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Iowa
Sr Barbara and I made yet another trip yesterday; this time, crossing the Mississippi flood plains of Iowa, to join in a memorial Mass held in Green River (pop. 36). Mass was held in a tiny chapel 
that had been deconsecrated, but was bought by a Chicago Catholic who was doing his best to make it a place of devotion. At the Sign of Peace, an elderly woman came in, amazed to see a service in progress. Turns out that Alice (81) had been a parishioner here all her life and was married in the little church on a rainy day 61 years ago. It meant so much for her to see it again from the inside, and to know that it would be used once more, even if only on again/off again. She was even more moved when we told her that the priest had suggested, as Mass began, that we pray for all those who had worshiped there through the years.
Later, we gathered for a lunch of "maderights" (the local name for a kind of sweet sloppy Joe) at a saloon/music hall, of all places. Kevin, the proprietor, showed us around this former barn. The upstairs has a stage modeled on the Grand Ole Opry, and has hosted some pretty famous names in country music. (This is country country.)
I think that's all the traveling I will have to do until...the day after Thanksgiving, when we begin our Great Christmas Concert Road Trip. Meanwhile, "miles to go" before that happens. We have our community meeting on Thursday, Theology of the Body class on Saturday and my Mom and sister
Jane coming Saturday evening for Jane's well-deserved vacation. (Hope the weather doesn't scare her away!)
Just a little thought for today's feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran... Just to clarify: there is no "Saint John Lateran." There is a Church on property in Rome formerly owned by the Lateran family. (That's Jane standing at the entrance during the World Youth Day celebrations in the Jubilee Year.)
The "St. John" in question is...two of them: John the Baptist and John the Evangelist. The Lateran Basilica is one of the four "patriarchal basilicas" in Rome; the anniversary of the dedication of each one of these important churches is marked with a feast day. Today's is a solemnity (the highest level of feast there is) because the Lateran Basilica is actually the cathedral of Rome. A marble inscription at the entrance reads: Head and Mother of all the Churches. So you could say that today's celebration is a kind of second feast of the "Chair of St. Peter" ("kathedra" means chair, as used even now in the world of academia).
that had been deconsecrated, but was bought by a Chicago Catholic who was doing his best to make it a place of devotion. At the Sign of Peace, an elderly woman came in, amazed to see a service in progress. Turns out that Alice (81) had been a parishioner here all her life and was married in the little church on a rainy day 61 years ago. It meant so much for her to see it again from the inside, and to know that it would be used once more, even if only on again/off again. She was even more moved when we told her that the priest had suggested, as Mass began, that we pray for all those who had worshiped there through the years.
Later, we gathered for a lunch of "maderights" (the local name for a kind of sweet sloppy Joe) at a saloon/music hall, of all places. Kevin, the proprietor, showed us around this former barn. The upstairs has a stage modeled on the Grand Ole Opry, and has hosted some pretty famous names in country music. (This is country country.)
I think that's all the traveling I will have to do until...the day after Thanksgiving, when we begin our Great Christmas Concert Road Trip. Meanwhile, "miles to go" before that happens. We have our community meeting on Thursday, Theology of the Body class on Saturday and my Mom and sister
Jane coming Saturday evening for Jane's well-deserved vacation. (Hope the weather doesn't scare her away!)Just a little thought for today's feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran... Just to clarify: there is no "Saint John Lateran." There is a Church on property in Rome formerly owned by the Lateran family. (That's Jane standing at the entrance during the World Youth Day celebrations in the Jubilee Year.)
The "St. John" in question is...two of them: John the Baptist and John the Evangelist. The Lateran Basilica is one of the four "patriarchal basilicas" in Rome; the anniversary of the dedication of each one of these important churches is marked with a feast day. Today's is a solemnity (the highest level of feast there is) because the Lateran Basilica is actually the cathedral of Rome. A marble inscription at the entrance reads: Head and Mother of all the Churches. So you could say that today's celebration is a kind of second feast of the "Chair of St. Peter" ("kathedra" means chair, as used even now in the world of academia).
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Paul's circle
Our founder was deeply impressed with an aspect of St. Paul that seems to bypass the rest of us. Paul was a great networker! Far from being self-reliant (that wouldn't even square with his cultural upbringing), Paul knew how to work with others, and on his missionary journeys (which he never undertook alone), Paul looked for more people he could team up with. Nowhere is that more evident than in the conclusion of the letter to the Romans, where Paul names one person after another (28 in all!). Considering the size of the Christian community in Rome, Paul must have known close to 10 or 15% of them in person. But Paul does more than list them in a perfunctory way at the end of his letter. He gives each one a kind of extended "title" of recognition, highlighting some dimension of their Christian service. The most effusive recognition goes to two married couples: above all, Prisca and Aquila "my co-workers in Christ Jesus, who risked their necks for my life, to whom not only I am grateful but also all the churches of the Gentiles."
This dynamic duo of the New Testament deserve a lot more attention than they have historically been given. That's not Paul's fault: he refers to them repeatedly in his letters, as Luke does in the Acts of the Apostles. Perhaps it was because Prisca, the wife, is almost always mentioned first, so Paul's advance team for the Gospel didn't fit into the usual categories.
It's time to rescue Prisca and Aquila from oblivion and make them the patrons of the lay apostolate!
This dynamic duo of the New Testament deserve a lot more attention than they have historically been given. That's not Paul's fault: he refers to them repeatedly in his letters, as Luke does in the Acts of the Apostles. Perhaps it was because Prisca, the wife, is almost always mentioned first, so Paul's advance team for the Gospel didn't fit into the usual categories.
It's time to rescue Prisca and Aquila from oblivion and make them the patrons of the lay apostolate!
Taking Dictation
Today's first reading includes one of the few "third party" remarks in all of Sacred Scripture. I mean a place where someone other than the "official" inspired human author shows up in his own right. There are some places in the Old Testament where this happens--Jeremiah's secretary, Baruch, is one of those--of course, he is also presumed to be the author of the prophetic book that bears his name, so maybe Baruch doesn't count. Then there is the grandson of Jesus ben Sirach, who translated and wrote an introduction to his grandfather's work, the book of Sirach (also called "Ecclesiasticus"). The introduction, even though it is in our Bible, is not recognized as inspired Scripture! And then there's Paul's scribe, Tertius, who took Paul's dictation for the letter to the Romans. (What a job!) Paul is almost always depicted holding his own pen, but today's reading sets us straight.Reading the conclusion of Romans with its evidence of Paul's dictation reminded me of how my Dad (whose 3rd anniversary is tomorrow) would use a dictaphone or tape recorder to dictate letters and documents for his legal practice. At a certain point, he would cease narrating clauses, turn the radio on, and say, "And now, for a musical interlude..." (I don't know what his secretary did with that "interlude"; maybe it gave her a chance to keep up with my Dad's prodigious output!
Tertius' little greeting is a font of information for scholars. First of all, it proves that Paul didn't do his own handwriting (which we gather from Galatians). From Tertius we see that prominent locals hosted the whole Church, and that some of these people, like "Erastus, the city treasurer," were very prominent indeed. Actually, that reference to Erastus is important for more than one reason. Archaeologists have found an inscription in the ruins of Corinth which identify "Erastus, the city treasurer" of Corinth as the financier behind the paving of the public square. Given that the letter to the Romans is presumed to have been written from Corinth, it is tantalizing to think that this stone is a physical link to Paul.
Tertius' name even tells us something about himself! It was Roman custom for a first-born son to receive his father's name in the three-fold Romans form: praenomen (first name), nomen (clan) and cognomen (specific family within the clan). For instance, Gaius Julius Caesar. Any further sons, however, did not receive a special praenomen. They were just named in numerical order: Secundus, Tertius, Quartus, Quintus. So we know from his name that the helpful and literate Tertius of Corinth was the third son of a Roman family. Was the "Quartus" whose greetings he so graciously delivers his own younger brother, or some other fourth-born son?
Friday, November 06, 2009
Motor City Experiences
I've spent an amazing amount of time in Detroit over the past 9 days. Last week, Sr Barbara and I ran a book display for the "Michigan Association of Non-Public Schools" convention where we were the smiling faces at booth 417. We stayed with our Pauline brothers in Dearborn. After an early Mass, Sr Barbara and I caught a glimpse of the local paper. Headlining it was the story of the killing by the FBI of a radical Islamist...in Dearborn. Then, at supper, we were guests, along with our St. Paul brothers, of a lovely couple who live in one of Dearborn's tonier neighborhoods. Their experience of their mostly Muslim neighbors (in the "tony" neighborhood, as well as in our brothers' neighborhood) is quite different. The children in the area call the retired couple Grandma and Grandpa, and when one of the neighboring couples needed a weekend to themselves, the kids weren't parceled out to extended family; they spent the night with their Catholic grandma and grandpa. The husband told of a father bringing his two young sons to the local parish to deliver their post-Ramadan offering of charity. The boys had saved their pennies to give... half to the mosque and half to the Church. Brother Al told us that when a baby is born to a Muslim family, the house is decorated with tiny white Christmas lights. (I imagine that Christmas decorations make quite an appropriate impression!) If any progress is going to be made with regard to mutual respect between cultures in US, it's probably going to happen in Dearborn.
We returned to Chicago for the weekend, and then Sr Helena and I took to the highway again, this time to give workshops for the youth ministers of the Archdiocese of Detroit. Our first workshop was at St. James parish. Sr Helena (former resident of Toronto) was thrilled to see a Tim Horton's across the street. Sadly, we didn't have a chance to sample the offerings. (The local DRE told us that Canadians say it just isn't the same quality as in the homeland.) Rather than stay in Dearborn, we were given hospitality at Sacred Heart Seminary, where our main presentation would be held. (Sr Helena kept
scanning the parking lot for Janet Smith's car; she was hoping we would run into her--figuratively speaking.)
The seminary is an impressive structure--one of those classic red-brick Gothic institutions from the early 20th century. The ceramic shower apparatus was so interestingly antique I took a picture of it! (Note the patent date: Dec 22, 1915.) Unfortunately, we didn't get to see the chapel, which is still being renovated after a fire in February. (Mass was held in the "chape-torium.")
More impressive than the seminary is the neighborhood around it. Guided by Mapquest and "Flo" (the female voice of our brand-new GPS), we drove past block after blighted block. Once beautiful, big homes with bay windows and welcoming porches were boarded up or burned out. In between, some homes were still occupied, and on the sidewalks children were coming home to them from school while men criss-crossed the streets in the loping stride of people who have nowhere to go. Apartment buildings, real architectural beauties (not bland cracker-boxes), stood there with shattered windows; roofs were collapsing through the empty floors. I felt as though we were driving past some of the hardest-hit parts of New Orleans, only this wasn't the result of a hurricane.
Our Thursday workshop was well-attended. One participant Twittered from the room, but we 
were pretty limited in online access. Between firewalls and bandwidth issues, we couldn't do all we wanted to, so (oddly) we resorted to talking about social media instead of demonstrating it. (Thank goodness for PowerPoint!) We hope to offer the same sort of workshop (only with real-time online access) to other groups. On the way home, we stopped in Dearborn to have supper with our brothers of the Society of St. Paul.
Brother Al (an energetic 81) and Father Arthur welcomed us. As Brother Al prepared the table, he started talking about our Founder, whom he knew very well. (Brother Al was the first Pauline brother to be elected to the General Council of the order, while the Founder was still alive.) When I realized what was happening, I pulled out my camera and changed it to the video setting. I missed a lot of the good stuff, but below is a clip of insight from Brother Al. We are hoping that Brother Al and Father Arthur will join us here in Chicago for Thanksgiving, which coincides with our Founder's feast day. (Pray!)
I've spent an amazing amount of time in Detroit over the past 9 days. Last week, Sr Barbara and I ran a book display for the "Michigan Association of Non-Public Schools" convention where we were the smiling faces at booth 417. We stayed with our Pauline brothers in Dearborn. After an early Mass, Sr Barbara and I caught a glimpse of the local paper. Headlining it was the story of the killing by the FBI of a radical Islamist...in Dearborn. Then, at supper, we were guests, along with our St. Paul brothers, of a lovely couple who live in one of Dearborn's tonier neighborhoods. Their experience of their mostly Muslim neighbors (in the "tony" neighborhood, as well as in our brothers' neighborhood) is quite different. The children in the area call the retired couple Grandma and Grandpa, and when one of the neighboring couples needed a weekend to themselves, the kids weren't parceled out to extended family; they spent the night with their Catholic grandma and grandpa. The husband told of a father bringing his two young sons to the local parish to deliver their post-Ramadan offering of charity. The boys had saved their pennies to give... half to the mosque and half to the Church. Brother Al told us that when a baby is born to a Muslim family, the house is decorated with tiny white Christmas lights. (I imagine that Christmas decorations make quite an appropriate impression!) If any progress is going to be made with regard to mutual respect between cultures in US, it's probably going to happen in Dearborn.
We returned to Chicago for the weekend, and then Sr Helena and I took to the highway again, this time to give workshops for the youth ministers of the Archdiocese of Detroit. Our first workshop was at St. James parish. Sr Helena (former resident of Toronto) was thrilled to see a Tim Horton's across the street. Sadly, we didn't have a chance to sample the offerings. (The local DRE told us that Canadians say it just isn't the same quality as in the homeland.) Rather than stay in Dearborn, we were given hospitality at Sacred Heart Seminary, where our main presentation would be held. (Sr Helena kept scanning the parking lot for Janet Smith's car; she was hoping we would run into her--figuratively speaking.)
The seminary is an impressive structure--one of those classic red-brick Gothic institutions from the early 20th century. The ceramic shower apparatus was so interestingly antique I took a picture of it! (Note the patent date: Dec 22, 1915.) Unfortunately, we didn't get to see the chapel, which is still being renovated after a fire in February. (Mass was held in the "chape-torium.")
More impressive than the seminary is the neighborhood around it. Guided by Mapquest and "Flo" (the female voice of our brand-new GPS), we drove past block after blighted block. Once beautiful, big homes with bay windows and welcoming porches were boarded up or burned out. In between, some homes were still occupied, and on the sidewalks children were coming home to them from school while men criss-crossed the streets in the loping stride of people who have nowhere to go. Apartment buildings, real architectural beauties (not bland cracker-boxes), stood there with shattered windows; roofs were collapsing through the empty floors. I felt as though we were driving past some of the hardest-hit parts of New Orleans, only this wasn't the result of a hurricane.
Our Thursday workshop was well-attended. One participant Twittered from the room, but we were pretty limited in online access. Between firewalls and bandwidth issues, we couldn't do all we wanted to, so (oddly) we resorted to talking about social media instead of demonstrating it. (Thank goodness for PowerPoint!) We hope to offer the same sort of workshop (only with real-time online access) to other groups. On the way home, we stopped in Dearborn to have supper with our brothers of the Society of St. Paul. 
Brother Al (an energetic 81) and Father Arthur welcomed us. As Brother Al prepared the table, he started talking about our Founder, whom he knew very well. (Brother Al was the first Pauline brother to be elected to the General Council of the order, while the Founder was still alive.) When I realized what was happening, I pulled out my camera and changed it to the video setting. I missed a lot of the good stuff, but below is a clip of insight from Brother Al. We are hoping that Brother Al and Father Arthur will join us here in Chicago for Thanksgiving, which coincides with our Founder's feast day. (Pray!)
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Wars of Religion?
Still thinking about those atheists and their advertising campaign. Still shaking my head over their insistence that they are "good"! That (and their claiming the mantle of "reason") makes the whole message seem so very arrogant.
In many ways, the "god" they do not believe in is a god I do not believe in, either. It's a human being writ large, not so different from the Olympians; as if the mythic language of some of the Scriptures were taken to be the bald facts.
Fact is, the only real image we have of God is Jesus. (Wasn't it Augustine who said, "If you can understand, it is not God"?) It all comes down to Jesus, the "image of the invisible God."
That doesn't mean that faith in God revealed in Jesus is a given. Well, it is a given, in that it is only a gift. We can't convince ourselves into believing (though faith is an act of will); it has to be given to us. And not every dear soul we meet or associate with will have been given that gift of an explicit faith in God. Maybe that's how it is supposed to be. Maybe we really are supposed to be the Jesus they meet.
In many ways, the "god" they do not believe in is a god I do not believe in, either. It's a human being writ large, not so different from the Olympians; as if the mythic language of some of the Scriptures were taken to be the bald facts.
Fact is, the only real image we have of God is Jesus. (Wasn't it Augustine who said, "If you can understand, it is not God"?) It all comes down to Jesus, the "image of the invisible God."
That doesn't mean that faith in God revealed in Jesus is a given. Well, it is a given, in that it is only a gift. We can't convince ourselves into believing (though faith is an act of will); it has to be given to us. And not every dear soul we meet or associate with will have been given that gift of an explicit faith in God. Maybe that's how it is supposed to be. Maybe we really are supposed to be the Jesus they meet.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Today's saint exemplifies all three of the Scriptures in the Liturgy of the Word for the regular weekday Mass. St. Martin de Porres exercised the gifts he was given in the Body of Christ, even to the point of working miracles. He "busied not himself with 'great' things," the way the "invited guests" in the Gospel parable did. They were too busy with their farms and investments and personal lives to go sit at the King's table and just enjoy the bounty. Not Martin. This somewhat marginalized Dominican brother was one of those servants who went "out into the streets and hedgerows" and invited "the poor and the crippled, the blind and the lame" (and, most famously, cats and dogs and mice) to the King's banquet.
Monday, November 02, 2009
Good to Go?
Running errands downtown the other day, I came upon one of those proselytizing billboards. Proselytizing, but not in the usual way. The sign asked, "Good without God?" It was sponsored by the "Chicago Coalition of Reason."
I have to say that the billboard got me thinking, although not in the vein that the question was surely intended to. Instead I was wondering, "Where is Flannery O'Connor when we need her?" She would have found the perfect way to highlight the short-sightedness of the self-evaluation implied in the billboard copy (as well as the image of God and religion).
The humanists behind the billboard are trying to overcome the negative stereotypes of atheism--but relying on a stereotype of religion worthy of Miss O'Connor herself: the image of religion that sees itself as the exclusive arena for all things "true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy" (Phil. 4:8) and condemns or dismisses any such quality that might be found outside of the visible confines of the fold.
Not that the members of the "Coalition of Reason" aren't truly upright, fine people by every typical measure. St. Paul (Rom. 2: 13-15) himself wrote about people who, without the Torah, live by a Torah in their hearts. But uprightness apart from "religion" does not disprove the existence and praiseworthiness of transcendent Goodness.
And ultimately, that is what "religion" is all about: the love and praise of the source of all Good, by whom we can even have some inkling of the good in the first place.
I have to say that the billboard got me thinking, although not in the vein that the question was surely intended to. Instead I was wondering, "Where is Flannery O'Connor when we need her?" She would have found the perfect way to highlight the short-sightedness of the self-evaluation implied in the billboard copy (as well as the image of God and religion).
The humanists behind the billboard are trying to overcome the negative stereotypes of atheism--but relying on a stereotype of religion worthy of Miss O'Connor herself: the image of religion that sees itself as the exclusive arena for all things "true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy" (Phil. 4:8) and condemns or dismisses any such quality that might be found outside of the visible confines of the fold.
Not that the members of the "Coalition of Reason" aren't truly upright, fine people by every typical measure. St. Paul (Rom. 2: 13-15) himself wrote about people who, without the Torah, live by a Torah in their hearts. But uprightness apart from "religion" does not disprove the existence and praiseworthiness of transcendent Goodness.
And ultimately, that is what "religion" is all about: the love and praise of the source of all Good, by whom we can even have some inkling of the good in the first place.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Is Halloween Evil?
Sociologists probably have all kind of insights into the popularity of Halloween customs, especially the costumes. (Nobody needs a degree in social sciences to explain the popularity of free candy.) I'm sure the ghoul factor gets some attention in the ivory halls, too. Every year the costumes and movies get more gruesome, and the anti-Halloween pontifications in newspapers and blogs more pronounced. What is going on?
Beats me.
The Mexican tradition for All Souls Day, the Dia de los Muertos, features skeletons galore, usually in rather comic representations, and skull candies. My understanding is that this is a way of mocking death, because Jesus put death to death by entering into it himself. That's pretty close to the origins of our Catholic celebrations at this time of year, because the original feast of All Saints was celebrated in close connection with Easter and then moved to coincide with the Celtic observances that gave a nod to our ongoing communion with the departed. But it would be quite a stretch to say that is what is happening at Halloween in el Norte. I almost wonder if it is the exact opposite; that what we see advertised for the Haunted Houses and in the costume shops (I'm not going anywhere near the movies) reflects the loss of a theological sense of death at all, a kind of shrugging "whatever" before the most ghastly possibilities because, ultimately, none of it matters anyway.
Still, to just pitch Halloween altogether seems like a sell-out. It's almost like saying that there is nothing redeemable at the root of the festivities; that it really is all pagan (in the worst sense of the word). That wasn't the attitude of the Church in the 5th century, when anything that could be re-interpreted in the light of the Gospel was "baptized" and taken in.
Can this celebration be "saved" again?
Beats me.
The Mexican tradition for All Souls Day, the Dia de los Muertos, features skeletons galore, usually in rather comic representations, and skull candies. My understanding is that this is a way of mocking death, because Jesus put death to death by entering into it himself. That's pretty close to the origins of our Catholic celebrations at this time of year, because the original feast of All Saints was celebrated in close connection with Easter and then moved to coincide with the Celtic observances that gave a nod to our ongoing communion with the departed. But it would be quite a stretch to say that is what is happening at Halloween in el Norte. I almost wonder if it is the exact opposite; that what we see advertised for the Haunted Houses and in the costume shops (I'm not going anywhere near the movies) reflects the loss of a theological sense of death at all, a kind of shrugging "whatever" before the most ghastly possibilities because, ultimately, none of it matters anyway.
Still, to just pitch Halloween altogether seems like a sell-out. It's almost like saying that there is nothing redeemable at the root of the festivities; that it really is all pagan (in the worst sense of the word). That wasn't the attitude of the Church in the 5th century, when anything that could be re-interpreted in the light of the Gospel was "baptized" and taken in.
Can this celebration be "saved" again?
Blast from the Past
For Halloween or All Souls? You decide. Purgatory Cookies (from my blog archives).
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
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