What is the Value of a Single Human Life?

This is a fundamental question in our society. It doesn't just touch on the huge moral (and secondarily, political) topics of abortion and euthanasia, but on something far more common:  it hits us all, every single day in every single human interaction.

I recently began re-reading a book series that was beloved to me in my youth: Lloyd Alexander's  The Chronicles of Prydain, beginning with The Book of Three.

Early on in the story, the protagonist, Taran, meets the great Warrior Prince Gwydion, his hero, and upon meeting him is both awed and disappointed. The man in person does not meet his mental image of a "hero" nor does he encourage it. He reveals his humility and wisdom when the passionate Taran suggest the two of them go against the Horned King alone.

"Then we should stop him," Taran declared. "Attack him, strike him down! Give me a sword and I will stand with you!"
"Gently, gently," chided Gwydion. "I do not say my life is worth more than another man's, but I prize it highly. Do you think a lone warrior and one Assistant Pig-Keeper dare attack the Horned King and his war band?"
Taran drew himself up. "I would not fear  him."
"No?" said Gwydion. "Then you are a fool. He is the man most to be dreaded in all Prydain..."

Ahh. What a beautiful dialogue to demonstrate the point. Here we have a lowly commoner (like most of us), and we have a Great Hero, actual royalty, even! And when the commoner wants him on a pedestal and seeks in his own pride to raise himself to the level of his hero, the humility of the hero brings him back to earth, even to the degree of calling him a "fool"!

Can you imagine such a rebuke? (Does it perhaps call to mind Jesus rebuking Peter by saying "Get behind me Satan!" or to James and John by calling them the "Sons of Thunder"?)

I couldn't move on from this passage, especially a single seemingly-insignificant line from Prince Gwydion:  "I do not say my life is worth more than another man's, but I prize it highly."

There it is. What is the value of life? Is there any such thing as one life being more valuable than another? In any give situation, who determines who should live and who should die? In any given human exchange, who is owed more respect or less respect?

Our current society is driven by hero worship. Never before in history have celebrities been such a huge force behind politics and causes. People did not used to follow mere actors, whose trade was to entertain the masses. Now, it matters not if someone is educated; it matters only that they are beautiful and popular and "in".

That is not to say that those who are "celebrities" necessarily buy into this image of themselves; I would not accuse them of valuing themselves above others, but rather, I cast the role of naive and starstruck Taran upon the American public at large.

The problem is we don't see the humility of the Prince in the story in those we as a public perceive to be our "leaders". We don't see moral fortitude (or any solid moral compass at all), and when it comes to celebrities, even the popular spokesactors haven't a leg to stand on when questioned in most cases. They are but straw idols to be cast upon the wind and torn apart by crows when the appetite suits them. They become victims of the same society that elevated them seemingly only to eventually rip them to shreds.

So let us speak directly then, of politics. Every few years it is a tidal wave of politics, a tsunami that never really goes away, but seems to regather and build for an even greater assault every four years.

I am always left scratching my head over the adulation given to certain politicians, and in contemporary society: Obama. I can't understand why he wasn't vetted and vilified as were the other candidates, and I was shocked when he was never forced to answer tough questions in previous presidential debates.  He didn't like the question he just said, "Let's move on." and they did.

I make no apology: I don't like Obama, and I have often thought, and even stated that if I were ever to meet him, I would refuse to shake his hand. His clear anti-life status, his abuse of our natural-law and Constitutional freedoms, his various methods of America-bashing in other countries, his constant prideful faux-pas in "gifts" to other Heads of State, his obvious dismay and outright attempts to crush out any legitimate criticism of himself and his policies, his attempts to crush religious freedom...all for his own power and his own glory. I despise him as a man and I am offended as what he has done to the Office of President.

And there, those last words, that's what stop me. Office. Office of President.

Many years ago I considered the Secret Service, researched it a bit and pondered for myself the role the Agents take. They agreed that they would take a bullet for the President! What a noble cause! How beautiful a way to die!

Except that ultimately, I didn't want to die for the President. I thought it would be a nice idea, but, no, no, if I was going to die for someone, I wanted to die for someone I cared about. Someone more like...me.  Someone who came from my community, lived their life and perhaps had something terrible happen to them. Someone..normal. Not someone whose life was "more valuable" than that of the average person.

I was raised to respect authority, and certainly, I do. I also learned through trial and error that respect may be owed to a particular position, but the person who holds that particular role may not be worthy of that respect; but one gives it anyway. Not for the person, but for their Office.

This is why those Secret Service Agents who protect the President can do so even if they disagree with him or even personally despise him. They do it because they defend NOT the man, but the Office. They can recognize that his life is worth no more or less than their own. What IS valuable is the office he holds, for if the Office falls, so does the country.

I have to realize, because of this, that if I ever do meet Obama and am in a position to shake his hand, I must do so, not because I respect him as a man (for I don't), but because I respect the Office of President of the United States, and it is right and just to give it and him as a human being, simple respect. I respect the fact he was created in the image and likeness of God, no matter how he has chosen to distort that image (for I am a sinner, too, and am also distorted.)

Ah! But What of Life? For Anyone? What of the Everyday?

Most of us won't meet political heavies or celebrities or royalty. Most of us just go about our lives every day and try to eke out our existence, work with people professionally and of course, simply try to keep our heads down and shoulders to the grindstone.

But if we're pressed and if we really think about it, we DO tend to give more value to certain lives than we do to others.

Think about it. In the workplace, do you treat EVERYONE with the same respect? Or do you treat the CEO with more?  How do you speak to the CEO in comparison to the IT guy locked in the basement? How to you treat your Pastor versus the Mechanic doing your brakes? How do you treat the Parish Council member versus the elderly confused lady who asks random questions and speaks about random things you know nothing about?

How many average human interactions every single day cause you to change your level of respect and interior admiration or desire for approval according to the person standing before you?

Whose life is worth more?

Is any life worth more than another?

Do the wealthy deserve more respect? Or should we not give the same respect to the poor?  To the person we dislike? To the person we like? To the person who is lost, the person who serves us in some way, the person we serve by employment or other obligation?

The issue of Life isn't to be compartmentalized; it's not just about abortion and euthanasia, but is part of our everyday lives, in every moment, every interaction.

It doesn't mean we have to like or approve of everyone. It doesn't mean we have to "respect" someone in the sense of placing them on a pedestal. What the call to value life means is this: we must hold ALL to the highest standard, we must give ALL basic human respect and it should not matter whether we are speaking the Pope, the President, the CEO, the Janitor, the Stable groom, the Housekeeper, the Pastor, the Mechanic, the Cashier, the Religious Sister, or the homeless guy on the corner. (Hint: learn his name!)

Life is life. In Genesis, we learn that blood, the symbol of Life, belongs to God alone. So it was that God Himself, through His Only Son Jesus Christ offered His blood so that we might live for eternity. Jesus gave us the example of holiness we are all to live. He did teach to respect Civic leaders, but in practice, to be like Himself.

Personalities and politics are not part of God's Kingdom; they are of the world. We are called, through Baptism to bring about the Kingdom of God in word and deed, and foundational to this is respect for all Life, and to know that every human being is willed and loved by God. It's not a matter of political action, but in how we all live our lives. It matters not if we pray outside an abortuary and then return to our regular lives and bash our neighbors and coworkers.

We have to catch ourselves when we find we are caught in the trap of valuing one life over another, and remember to find Christ in them, somewhere, recalling they, too, are known and loved.

I fall very, very short of this, every single day, and pray one day I may finally practice what I am incoherently trying to preach.


** Disclaimer:  I am not stating that the Truth should not be taught  and I am all for condemning the moral attack upon our society, namely abortion, homosexual "marriage", euthanasia, the Health Mandate, the attack upon religious freedom, etc. These things are ideas, not people. In this post I am attempting to focus on basic human discourse, no matter what our position. Every life is a gift from God and we need to treat every life we meet according to that reality, and THEN address the darkness within us that makes us into total idiots.***

Embrace the Passion of Christ

This Lent has been a hard one for the Church as a whole, but it has hit Europe especially. They are facing the purging now that began in America in 2002, but it seems the media and the world in general has become even more vicious and visceral in their reactions. A light is being shown on the sins of the Church, and even as we all collectively shudder, we, the disfigured Bride of Christ, must recognize that even the innocent must be scourged along with the guilty.

We live in a world today that hates us as Christians, but most especially as Catholics. It is launching a vile and backhanded assault against "the Vatican" and against our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI. In so doing, they are assaulting us all for we as Catholics are in solidarity with all who suffer injustice.  In our innocence, we partake in the sufferings of those who were abused. In our own guilt, we partake in the divine justice that is owed to the men (and women) in the Church who have abused others.  In the mystical reality of our identity as the Bride of Christ, the Mystical Body with Christ as our head, we must enter into and suffer His own Passion. We are one with Christ, and cannot be separated from Him.

I have heard and seen others, in America and abroad, who have expressed that they are "shaken" by these revelations of sin and debauchery in Ireland and Germany (especially given what has happened here). Sadly, I am not shaken at all. I am saddened. I am angry. I am beyond emotion. But I am not shocked, and I am not shaken.

We have to recall that God does not reveal sin without revealing His mercy. In this season of Lent, as we enter Holy week, it is fitting that the Church as a whole suffer to her very soul for the sins committed in her name, and perhaps with her seeming acquiescence.  It is fitting that such horrifying sin has been revealed, for now it can be purged. We enter Holy Week in humiliation, even we who are innocent. We hear once again the banshee cries directed toward all priests, most especially our Holy Father, screaming, "CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM!"  We shudder deep within ourselves, perhaps wanting to look away, but knowing we cannot.

We look into the eyes of the guilty and innocent alike and find ourselves reflected there, part and parcel of both the bad and the good of our human nature.

We walk the road to Calvary with our Savior, knowing why He became Incarnate and went to the Cross to save us from our sins. We offer ourselves in union with Him, to be ridiculed, to be scourged, and ultimately, to be crucified.  Unless we accompany Christ along the via dolorosa, we cannot rise with Him in the Resurrection, knowing the full revelation of His Mercy.

Mk 4:35-40 35 On that day, as evening drew on, he said to them, "Let us cross to the other side." 36 Leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat just as he was. And other boats were with him.37 A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. 38 Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" 39 He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Quiet! Be still!"  The wind ceased and there was great calm. 40 Then he asked them, "Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?"

This parable has relevance to our time. If you recall from scriptures, Jesus was always getting into a boat with the disciples and going somewhere, so we recognize this image as a reflection of the Church buffeted about in the world.

We are now those disciples in the boat with Christ as the "violent squall" of an insanely violent media attacks relentlessly, as money-grubbing attorneys with no interest in anyone's soul, much less his own, seeks to bring down the Annointed of Christ himself, seeking hard to find guilt where there is only innocence. In response, we, the faithful, are filling the chapels and churches, we are praying in our homes and in all places, at all times. If we are "shaken" it means that we think Jesus is sleeping and cannot hear our cries. For some, the scandals may well rattle their faith, yet they are in good company, for did not the Apostles (but for John) flee also when confronted by the violence and accusations of the crowd? 

Sounds a lot like the Passion of Our Lord, doesn't it?

We should not be shaken in these times. We should recognize that Christ does not sleep among us, but has sent the Holy Spirit to guide the Church through every storm of every century, and will not fail us now. Christ himself has not abandoned us; He is with us and calls US to be even more united with Him in His suffering for the salvation of sinners. We must pray, we must do penance, and we must, in absolute faith, embrace the Passion of Christ and in so doing, come to understand the full revelation of His saving power through the exercise of Divine Justice, Divine Mercy, and Divine Love in the folly and the glory of the Cross.

In the Office of Readings last Saturday we read an exhortation from St. Gregory Nazianzen:   "We must sacrifice ourselves to God, each day and in everything we do, accepting all that happens to us for the sake of the Word, imitating his passion by our sufferings, and honoring his blood by shedding our own. We must be ready to be crucified."

Today, the antiphon of Morning Prayer reminds us:  "Jesus said: my heart is nearly broken with sorrow; stay here and keep watch with me." 

The Office of Readings today is from Hebrews 10:39 exhorting us: "We are not among those who draw back and perish, but among those who have faith and live."

Today, Monday of Holy Week, we are called to courage, called to "set our faces like flint" and remember that we, too, must be crucified with Christ. We are waiting and we are watching. We are called to have faith....and live.

No Such Thing as "Pro-Abortion Catholic"

There is no such thing as a "Pro-abortion Catholic".   Catholics are pro-life and this IS an infallible teaching that belongs to the Deposit of Faith.

You CANNOT be CATHOLIC *and* "Pro-Choice"!

The "Pro-Abortion aka Pro-Choice 'Catholics'" seen in politics and in political organizations are people who have chosen to separate themselves from the Church in deep passionate love of their own will, ambition, and preferences, and as such, are no longer members of the Mystical Body of Christ through a very grave sin.    Therefore, they are not "Catholic".  They are people who are, for personal gain, misappropriating the Title and claiming a Privilege of being Catholic that does not belong to them by their own CHOICE.

Seriously, I find it hard to believe ANYONE claiming to be a PRACTICING Catholic (every Sunday, Holy Day of Obligation, Confession once per year, Holy Communion in state of grace during Easter Season as a bare minimum according to our precepts) would believe abortion is morally justifiable.

I don't care who you are!  If you willfully and publicly dissent against and advance teachings that contradict the Faith and Morals of the Catholic Church, you have separated yourself from us all,  and therefore you may be "Catholic" in name and by baptism (for by virtue of this, there is always hope...I'm a sinner, too, and screw up a LOT), but you LOSE the right to proclaim in conjunction with a public life and advancement in the eyes of others, a Faith you obstinately REFUSE,  ESPECIALLY if  you're using it for your political advancement to purposefully fleece those who are even more uncatechized than you!

I don't care if you're a politician, a DRE, a homosexual activist, or a housewife in rural Alabama with a blog and a little time and a column in your diocesan newspaper:  if you dissent on grave matters and KNOWINGLY and INTENTIONALLY advance your dissent through your own formal teaching...you aren't Catholic in anything other than name, and that is only by God's grace...in which you are publicly and personally refusing to partake.

That's your Choice, my friends. 

Yes, you do have a Choice...agree with God or disagree with God.

To Conceive a Child...or control your passions and keep your pants on so that you won't conceive a child.  Abortion is NOT the answer to animal passions. It's the epitome of a barbaric, tyrannical society.

To support abortion and claim Catholicism is demonically scandalous and you will NOT find support for it in the official teachings of the Church. The fact that Tertullian or Origin or St. Augustine or St Thomas Aquinas said some things in their theological musings a long time ago doesn't contradict the fact that the constant and persistent Magisterial teaching of the Church from the beginning of Christianity (ie the Church which was born out of the side of Christ) has been that abortion is morally incompatible with Christ.  Period.  You don't get to disagree with that without entering into grave sin.  Consider yourself informed now of that fact if you were previously claiming ignorance.

As a reminder, three things constitute grave (mortal) sin, which destroys the virtue of charity and renders one severed from God:

1.  The object of the sin is a grave matter (abortion is murder, even atheists agree on this because the fetus is a CHILD, a human being.)

2.  The matter is committed with full knowledge.   (The reference above...if someone is a sincerely practicing and DEVOUT Catholic, it means they have FULL KNOWLEDGE that a sin is grave and separates one from a relationship with God.)  Note that the teaching doesn't leave room for wishy-washy "opinion".  It is OBJECTIVE and BINDING.

3.  The matter is done with deliberate consent.  Active support of abortion in politics, in procuring, etc, is a willfull choice..unless forced by others contrary to one's own will. Thus it means that a woman who is forced into abortion has not committed sin. Those who forced her are DAMNED if they don't repent. Period.

No, I'm not mincing words. God is the judge, not me, and I'm not stating this to or about anyone in particular.

(More info on the morality of abortion and other common issues from the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) can be found here.) 

It happens:  mothers and  fathers of pregnant daughters, families and inconvenienced boyfriends force girls/women into abortion.  Because it is legal and available and "safe".  Those women then suffer for this act against their own conscience, for the baby they wanted...but no one else did.  The women in question didn't sin....those that forced them...DID.  And as scripture tells us...Vengeance is the Lord's.  And He cares deeply for those who suffer so much.

Yes, abortion DOES harm women and it harms the children they conceived and allowed to be flushed down the toilet through use of the Pill (because that's what it does), through vacuum-suction and chemical uterine murders, etc. And it harms the fathers who helped, with the mother and God, to bring them into existence so that they could be torn to pieces in the womb in the Sacred Name of "Choice".

I'll close, then, with my starting point for we have come full circle:   There is no such thing as a "Pro-Abortion", or in politically correct warm fuzzy terms, "Pro-Choice Catholic". There is only such a thing as a prideful politician or activist who has usurped a Privileged Title for the advancement of themselves and in detriment to all of Christianity and to the Mystical Body of Christ, from which they have divorced themselves through their faithless ideological and outright demonic position.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Choose your place. Choose your politicians...just know that if they claim to be Catholic, there's more to check than the title they take for themselves in order to win your vote.

Further info:  Father Malloy, SDB at A Shepherd's Voice ALSO says you can't be Catholic and "Pro-Choice". As does, famously, Father Corapi. (I couldn't find a link to a You Tube or article that gave the full quote, but it's one he's famous for!)   


****** ANONYMOUS COMMENTS WILL BE DELETED. NO EXCEPTIONS ********* 

Holocaust

Not long ago, I read PRIESTBLOCK 25487, the concentration camp memoir of Fr. Jean Bernard. Many people (especially those who say the Catholic Church didn't do anything to help the Jews in WWII) fail to realize that THOUSANDS of Catholic and other Christian clergy suffered the camps and were brutally murdered along with our MILLIONS of Jewish brethren. This book details this reality, through the eyes of one who survived...barely.

I am reproducing here a section from PRIESTBLOCK, because tonight, I watched The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. This passage may reveal the juxtaposition provided first by an unrelated book...and the movie about friendship in the tyranny of brutality.

Once the door upstairs creaks.

Like a flash I have the axe in my hand and am splitting wood. But nobody comes. I can't see the door, since the stairs go around a corner.

Then from upstairs I hear a small child's voice: "Mister, are you there?"

I am incapable of describing the impression this voice made on me. A greeting from another world! Did such a thing still exist?

At the same time I felt horribly afraid that someone might find me talking to this child...

I still can't see to the top of the stairs and am very careful not to take even one step.

"What are you doing here?" --My tone of voice was intended to be harsh, but I didn't succeed very well.

"You won't tell my mommy, promise?"

"Go back to your mother right now! You'll get dirty down here!"

The little girl went but called back through a crack in the door: "I'll come back tomorrow!"

The next day I was just on my way upstairs with a pail of ashes when I heard a woman's shrill voice calling, "Mathilde, where are you going?"

"To talk to the nice man," the little girl answered.

My heart skipped a beat. What would happen now?

Nothing happened. The girl started down the steps and no one interfered. So the mother didn't mind!

I heaved a sigh of relief.

I never saw the child. On each visit she would push the door open and sit down on the upper steps; then a lively conversation developed between the two of us that was like a ray of light from heaven for me. I told the little girl the most wonderful stories. And thawed in the process myself. I rediscovered my faith in beauty and purity, in innocence and love.

It was all right with me that I never got a glimpse of her. Perhaps she wore long braids, even worse them coiled snail-fashion over her ears, or had some other feature of the master race. As it was I could picture her to myself as the epitome of everything amiable, a messenger from that better world in which I could hardly believe anymore.

It was this scene I had in my mind's eye as I watched The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. From the very beginning of the movie I was horrified at this very average family first in denial about what was really happening, and then having to face what was really going on in the "farm" next to their house. The prisoner who peeled potatoes, as it turned out, was really a doctor, and in his short conversation with Bruno, I saw the scene from Priestblock.

I saw a human being being treated as an animal, and yet, when the child of the enemy State was in need, he ran to his side and cared for him as though he was his own son. The very normal conversation between an innocent 8 year old and this kind man was a delight, and the film captured the glimmer of hope from him as he looked up, slightly smiling at Bruno's quip. It was a scene parallel to Fr. Bernard's recounting of the little girl who came to converse with him as he worked in the Officer's house.

I held my breath when Bruno's mother arrived and sent the child away. It was as though she wasn't sure how to act. I pleaded with her to say something, to recognize what had happened, and thus the very humanity of the man who had looked out for her son even though it wasn't his "job" to do so. There was an extended moment, wondering whether she would berate the man, get her husband or another soldier, or simply ignore him. As she softly said, "Thank you", I was flooded with relief and gratitude, and hope. I was reminded that there were those who knew what was happening, and disagreed with it, working on their own to figure out how to hide their allegiance to morality from the State that wanted to dictate and enforce an agenda so contrary to natural law and the dignity of humanity.

As the movie progressed, the full horror of what was happening behind the walls surfaced, and even Bruno was given a glimpse. The propaganda being fed to the two children (Bruno and his sister) was absolutely demonic, and yet, one could see Bruno resisting what he was being fed, even as his sister gave herself to it completely.

I'm not going to say anything further about this movie. The ending is shocking, as it should be, for no one should walk away from it without having to face the reality of what happened in Hitler's camps.

In college we read Elie Wiesel's Night for one of our courses, and I'd long ago read The Diary of Ann Frank. Books on this topic abound, from the driest court documents to the most gruesome memoirs. As well they should. And there are still stories and testimonies we will never hear, for who can speak for the experience of the dead?

This is something we should NEVER forget. This very week, a crazed idiot entered the Holocaust Museum and opened fire. As I understand it, he didn't believe the Holocaust ever happened.

How anyone could be in such denial of a well-documented and systematic slaughter of thousands upon thousands of innocent human beings is beyond me.

And yet, we still live in such times. We still live in the age of denial, where people witness or are a part of the violation of civil rights, and anyone who speaks up is condemned. Genocide still happens, around the world. I've written before of the pogroms in India that began last August, wiping out the Christian population in several states. Where I live, there are many Somalian refugees, having fled their own extinction to seek a new home where they could perhaps survive.

Tonight, in watching this movie, I prayed for all those souls who were lost in the camps, and I wondered...how long before the anti-Christian climate in the United States slips that far?

There are some who will read this and ridicule me. The average German and Polish citizen who recognized what was happening were ridiculed, too...just before they were hauled off to the camps to be slaughtered along with the people they sought to defend.

The Fuhrer and his minions tolerated no dissent.

The reality is that the Holocaust happened, and it will happen again because human nature never seems to learn. When the face of the Fuhrer changes, people stick their heads in the sand so as to avoid ever denouncing the actions of their idol. That's why it's SO IMPORTANT to understand and recognize what happened at the hands of the Nazis and the blind acquiescence of the average people who refused to speak up. We must recognize those who risked their lives to speak up...and often lost them. We must recognize the ongoing ability of man to brutally redefine what "humanity" means, in order that his own selfish and demonic agenda be pushed and made to be "acceptable" or at least rendered morally "neutral."

Everyone should read these books and see this movie. And never, ever, forget.
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Abortion and Notre Dame

Today, Obama said at commencement, "Let's reduce unintended pregnancy!"

NO! NO!  NO!

The Blessed Virgin Mary's pregnancy was unintended. 

Jesus was a COMPLETELY unintended pregnancy!

My brother was an "unintended" pregnancy...because Mom had been told she'd never have children. By that definition, in spite of the fact that my brother came before me, the doctor's diagnosis didn't change, and although we were wanted and desired, we were not "intended" for our parents did not know we were even possible. Then along came...ME! My imperfect self.  Unintended by Obama's definition. 

Never mind all those who have sexual relations without realizing the natural ends of those sexual  relations. It amazes me that someone can look at such intimacy and be "surprised" at "unintended" results of an action that, as its natural end, is a child.  

HI!  

I might be a "willed" child, but very likely "unintended".  

I thank God that Mom didn't "decide" to end her "unintended pregnancy".  

Just because a pregnancy is "unintended" doesn't render the created life to be useless or without merit. If anything, ending the life of an unborn child has a greater chance of rendering the life of the mother and father (or whoever makes the "decision")  without merit...not the child they slaughter in the womb.

What is abortion but an act of supreme judgment?   Judge not lest you be judged...

Good luck if you think abortion is A-OK!   Hope your own particular judgment goes better than that to which you just sentenced an innocent child! 

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PSST!  If you still HAVE a conscience...there's ALWAYS  time for Divine Mercy....please go there! No matter WHAT you've done or advocated...Jesus is waiting to forgive you.  

He forgave me MY sins....He will forgive anyone...

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Whatsoever You Do To The Least Of My People...

The first time I debated Abortion, I was a junior in High School. My opponent, arguing "Pro-choice" was, sadly, a "Catholic".

We were both kids, with radically different viewpoints. And, I have to admit, radically different perspectives which may have arisen not just from our upbringing, but from our social status.

She was a popular girl from a well-to-do family. I was an unpopular girl who had grown up on welfare, and as it was a small high school, EVERYONE knew our social status.

And yes, social status matters.  Don't kid yourself. 

As it was, I knew going in that I was the underdog because the class would listen to her before they'd listen to me. I knew that no matter what, I was automatically "wrong".

But I prepared, just the same, hoping that facts and morality would win over social popularity.  I did my research, I spoke with local women involved with MCCL, they gave me resources, they gave me opposing arguments, and using all of these things, I prepared my end of the debate.

It was structured so that we'd each have an opportunity to speak. No rebuttal. Not every student in class was doing a debate, just a few of us on particular topics, and the teacher had taken volunteers. I was the ONLY student willing to speak for the pro-life side. That's not to say that other students disagreed...it only says they were more terrified than I was to stand up in front of the class and speak.  Not that I wasn't terrified myself. Let's be clear about that. 

When the day came, I was, in fact, so nervous I couldn't eat. But I had my notes, I knew what I was going to address, and I expected the popular propaganda to be put out there.  My opponent did not disappoint. She trotted out the same ignorant statements that has continued to this day to be used by the left:  that children resulting naturally from sex are "punishment", that it's unreasonable to expect a teenager to take on the responsiblity of a child, that it's better to kill a child than allow that child to come into a world as messed up as ours, that population control "demands" abortion, that pregnancy wrecks lives, that women should have a right to decide what to do with their bodies, etc.

I responded to all of these things, BEGGING my audience to understand the very definition of life, reminding them even of what we'd learned in Biology, only a week prior where a video we'd watched stated very clearly, "Life begins at conception."

In the end, the class IMMEDIATELY decided that my opponent won the debate. Why? Because they agreed with her because they liked what she said. What she had told them made them feel comfortable.

I had pulled in facts, figures, biology, and....logic. Sure, I made a certain emotional appeal, but given that it was a debate, passion gave me courage to stand up there dissenting against the class. But it was facts that made me believe and should have made others believe.

I learned a hard lesson that day; that just because you're right and you have the truth on your side doesn't mean anyone is going to care.

Next Debate....

I went through my own period of being "pro-choice", but when I emerged from that fog of idiocy, I realized how wrong I'd been, and found myself entering another debate. This one was more informal, but much more true to life. It took place at a website I frequented, in the form of a "Survivor" competetion, where we'd all choose our sides, enter the debate, and at the end of a set time, we'd vote people out of the debate who hadn't contributed much, etc. It was a good idea, and was largely well done as it was a wonderful forum for lots of ideas to come together in a very safe way. The participants "knew" each other, so friends often disagreed with friends. These "relationships" actually helped to keep the debate very civil. Usually.

The first debate in the series was...you guessed it....abortion.

I was making my own slow re-entry into the Church at the time, and found the need to look to the Catechism (CCC) to aid me in my argument.  In this debate, I kept it handy, made some notes, and wandered into the fray. While I was not making my argument specifically from a Catholic perspective (since I didn't actually know what it was), I did recognize that I could use the words of people wiser than I to make my point. Other people were using their own resources and quotes with proper references, so I set out to do the same.

I quoted the CCC, then, with regard to when life begins, and a few other sources, and gave the references so that they could be read by others.

To my utter  shock, one particular debator on the opposing side suddenly began berating me in the most bizarre way. She started out by "screaming" at me (all caps): "STOP SHOVING YOUR CATHOLIC DOCTRINE DOWN MY THROAT!" and wanted to be clear that she "HAD THE ARMOR OF GOD ON, SO BRING IT ON!" Through that rant and unsubstianted claim, she would in some way, apparently deflect anything I said. It was a diatribe dripping with pure, irrational, absolutely demonic hatred.

I was completely taken aback, and responded that I wasn't shoving anything down anyone's throat, but apparently she was shoving her hatred down mine.

To my amazement, people on BOTH sides of the abortion debate came to my defense. The opposing debators said they disagreed with what I'd posted, but understood my position better because of it, and emphasized that I had a right to use the resources that had formed my values, etc, because that's what everyone else does, too.

All of the debators, with the exception of a very small minority, absolutely, as a whole, condemned the vitriol of that one woman and in fact, she received several votes at the end of the debate (to be voted out), because of her completely illogical attack upon my position based upon my faith, especially given that my resources weren't polemical, but spoke for me in a logical way. 

I even received emails from more than a few people apologizing for that person's behavior.

But the damage was done. I was terrified after that to use Catholic sources, no matter what wisdom was contained. If using that affected my position...then what? So I did my best to make coherent arguments, using the sources to inform me, but not using the exact wording so as to avoid citations that would cause another such reaction.

The scary thing is...

...that the vitriol these days is pretty much unchecked. If that same debate took place on that same site today, I'm convinced that there would be no defense, but rather, it would turn into a slaughter. The anger and hostility of the liberal anti-religious left has gone unchallenged for so long that they have become conceited in their "enlightenment" and even as they preach "peace" where there is no peace, they make war upon those who simply seek to live Truth.

I know that I'll go on debating abortion and speaking out against it, and that people will continue to not listen. Babies will continue to be slaughtered in the name of Moloch...uh... "Convenience" (as his current incarnation happens to be.) But I'm grateful for my early high-school lesson, and that of the web site from several years ago. The reality is that until abortion comes to an end, there will continue to be a debate, and there will continue to be nearly-violent backlash against anyone who dares to speak out against the unmitigated slaughter of children in the womb.  

Truth is on only ONE side, and that is the side that honors Life. We are going to continue to be beat up by people who disagree, but their vile tactics only serves to discredit them and reveal their lack of foundation. Let them flounder. Let them spew their bloody agenda until they choke on it and drown...maybe then, they'll look through blood-encrusted eyes and see things as they really are.

Until then, keep fighting the good fight, keep praying, keep loving, and keep debating to the best of your ability. We know how this story ends.

Our Lord said clearly, "Whatsoever you do to the least of my people, that you do unto me. " (Mt 25.40)

Those are the words that reveal Truth...and the words that condemn those who choose death for the unborn, the "least of His people."

*

Ignoring the Obvious

SANCTE PATER: Be careful not to offend gay worshippers, Catholic priests warned

For some reason, homosexual activists, like the Hollywood divas, have some kind of crazy idea that the world revolves around them. They think they have a "vote" in something they clearly know nothing about or have outright rejected.

We must be very clear: the Church does not exist as an admiration society for whatever popular immoral issue happens to be running the headlines. The Church, in fact, is a hospital for SINNERS. She is concerned with the salvation of SINNERS. Jesus Christ died for SINNERS...and that would be ALL of us. Including practicing homosexuals.

They should be flattered that the Church doesn't cave into their demands to accept their lifestyle, for if she did, that would mean that she didn't love them and that Christ, her Bridegroom, does not love them. The very fact that the Catholic Church continues to stand up for the sacramentality of heterosexual marriage (thus for LIFE) is directly indicative of her love of homosexuals.

Personally, I'm thrilled to be given the title of "sinner" and a place to go for help. That means both that I'm loved and that I have the dignity given to me by God that indicates I still have the ability to reject what is evil in favor of virtue and all those things that are of God.

The second the Church starts affirming me in my own favorite sins, I will realize that I am no longer loved by God.

You CANNOT be Christian and Support Abortion!

This post was originally published on June 22, 2007. Given that Advent begins in a week, and given that this weekend we celebrate the Feast of Christ the King, I can think of no better way to honor Him than by fighting for the life of the unborn by citing Jesus as the most perfect example of an "unplanned pregnancy." Those who profess to believe in Christ speak with forked tongues if they proclaim Christ in one moment and deny life to the unborn in the next.

In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth,
27 to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin's name was Mary.
28 And coming to her, he said, "Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you."
29 But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.
30 Then the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.
31 Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus.
32 He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father,
33 and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end."
34 But Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?"
35 And the angel said to her in reply, "The holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God.
36 And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren;
37 for nothing will be impossible for God."
38 Mary said, "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.
39 During those days Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah,
40 where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth.
41 When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the infant leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth, filled with the holy Spirit,
42 cried out in a loud voice and said, "Most blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
43 And how does this happen to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
44 For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leaped for joy.
45 Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled."

It is not possible to be a Christian and support the "right" to an abortion. It is not possible to be a Catholic Christian and support the "right" to abortion. You certainly have a choice...you are EITHER what society calls "Pro-Choice", OR you are a Christian.

If this is not clear to you, re-read the text of Luke 1 which I posted above. Especially focus on the parts in bold.

When the angel appeared to the Virgin Mary, he announced to her she would conceive and bear a son to be named Jesus. The birth of Jesus would follow the conception, because that's how it works. The angel did not announce to her that she would conceive and lay and egg...he announced that the Holy Spirit would overshadow her, and AT THAT MOMENT she would conceive in her womb the Christ, the Holy Redeemer.

Something very special happens to each woman at the moment of conception, the very same thing that happened to Mary when she conceived Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit. Every single human life begins in the same way; with a touch from God, a touch that infuses body and soul together, forming a complete human life in the most minute detail.

When the Holy Spirit overshadowed the Blessed Mother, the human and Divine nature of Jesus were fused together. As we know that Jesus, born of a human woman, was fully human in all ways, we also know that he was fully Divine.

Any Christian would certainly be offended at the idea that Jesus was a lump of flesh or just a conglomeration of cells until he was born. Scripture clearly spells out the fact that the children in the wombs of Mary and Elizabeth were, in fact, children, not accidents of the universe. They were not cancer, they were not impersonal "fetuses"; no, they were CHILDREN, they were God's wonderful and abundant blessings, and through the womb of Mary, the Mother of God, Jesus, both Human and Divine, emerged to redeem humanity.

He did not become Jesus from birth; he was Jesus from conception.

Christ, the Redeemer of the world, is the one who penetrated in a unique unrepeatable way into the mystery of man and entered his "heart". Rightly therefore does the Second Vatican Council teach: "The truth is that only in the mystery of the Incarnate Word does the mystery of man take on light. For Adam, the first man, was a type of him who was to come (Rom 5:14), Christ the Lord. Christ the new Adam, in the very revelation of the mystery of the Father and of his love, fully reveals man to himself and brings to light his most high calling". And the Council continues: "He who is the 'image of the invisible God' (Col 1:15), is himself the perfect man who has restored in the children of Adam that likeness to God which had been disfigured ever since the first sin. Human nature, by the very fact that is was assumed, not absorbed, in him, has been raised in us also to a dignity beyond compare. For, by his Incarnation, he, the son of God, in a certain way united himself with each man. He worked with human hands, he thought with a human mind. He acted with a human will, and with a human heart he loved. Born of the Virgin Mary, he has truly been made one of us, like to us in all things except sin"47, he, the Redeemer of man.(RH, 8)

From the very moment of his Conception, Jesus was both God and Man; as by his conception he dignified humanity even further, it cannot be denied that EACH AND EVERY HUMAN LIFE has an innate dignity, raised even even more by virtue of the Incarnation of God, the Word made Flesh who dwelt among us (John 1), showing us by EXAMPLE of his very own CONCEPTION that this is a child of God FROM THAT VERY MOMENT!

I can understand how atheists or agnostics or religions that do not believe in the Virgin Birth can argue when life begins. But I simply cannot FATHOM how those who claim to be Christian, redeemed by the blood of the Lamb, can support the unmitigated and unquestioned slaughter of the unborn children of God. The reality is that the Holy Spirit overshadows all women at the time of conception in order for the soul to be infused into the moment of conception; God touches each one of us at that moment. God touches each woman especially at that moment, a blessing of life, a blessing of love, in the creation of a unique human being designed from the beginning to grow according to the will of God.

If you have the audacity to claim that abortion is an authentic "right", then at least have the integrity to announce you are no longer a Christian. To do anything else is to deny the Lord, the Redeemer who shed his blood so that you might live and have eternal life.

Should you be faced with an unexpected pregnancy, spend some time meditating on the passages of Luke, on Mary's fiat ("let it be done unto me according to your Word"), meditate on the face of the Crucified Christ, place your hand over your womb where that child grows, and consider how God has literally touched you and the life you carry within you. Imagine the face of the Christ child, the infant, and realize that just as Jesus, who loves you enough to die a horrible death for you, loves your child just as much. Imagine how the two natures of God, both Human and Divine, were joined at the moment of Jesus' conception, just as the body and soul of your unborn child were also joined in that same blessed moment.

Do any of us really want to deny life to any of the children of God? To do so is to justify the abortion of Christ Himself.


Bibliography:

"The Redeemer of Man (Redemptor hominis), Encyclical Letter of Pope John Paul II", Pauline Books & Media, 1979, p. 16

America in Historical-Critical Biblical Artistic Terms

In class, as we study Isaiah and Jeremiah, in reading the prophecies in historical context, it's impossible to ignore the lessons for today.

We all know the old adage: Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it. There are variations, but that's the basic line, and the meaning never changes. Stephen King even has his own version from one of his books: "Those who do not learn from history are bound to be beat up by it again."

Something like that.

And it's true. In Christian Anthropology, we study the nature of man, and in Spiritual Theology, we study the masters, from the pagan philosophers to the great Catholic Saints and Doctors. In all of these subjects, we can't help but mesh them together and see the tapestry that has been woven before us. We have not learned from history; we are repeating it.

We are, in artistic terms, a Diego Rivera melting into a Salvador Dali.

Biblically, we can substitute "America" in place of "Israel" or "Jerusalem" and have a pretty good idea as to what's coming next. We can take an objective look at the immorality of our culture, the secularization of our country, and all the people crying "Peace, peace" where there is no peace. The American false prophets (Obama, Oprah, etc.) are advocating all sorts of social change, even as those they claim help are the most victimized by their ideologies.

In the siege of Jerusalem, the captives were forced to eat their own dead children, among other horrors. What's so much worse about America is that not only does our new leader advocate abortion, but the slaughter of children born alive in spite of the attempt on their lives, and we're using embryos....THOSE ARE CHILDREN....in vaccines and to study various cures. How is that better than the cannibalism of Jerusalem? It's worse because it's been CHOSEN and ADVOCATED!

Let me make this comparison again:

In the siege of Jerusalem, the people were forced to eat their dead children. They had a water source, but were cut off from food for, what...three years? How long was it? Long enough for them to resort to cannibalism out of desperation. Those who thirst without respite will die. Those who hunger...get creative. In their desperate creativity, they ate their own children.

Can you imagine anything more horrible?

No?

Check out modern-day America:

America is not under siege. We have abundant food and water. We are a wealthy country, in spite of our huge national debt. The milk and honey are flowing, wine is being poured out copiously, and there is much rejoicing.

We are under no duress. Yet the abortuaries are doing brisk business in in-the-womb slaughters these days, and our new President-elect has voted THREE TIMES against the Infant Born Alive act, which would require medical treatment for babies born alive in spite of the intention of the abortionists and the mothers to kill them in utero.

You say that no, we're not eating our children. Maybe not as the inhabitants of Jerusalem did...but what we're doing is much worse.

Remember....they were under duress and seeking survival. Doing the abominable just to try to live. They were not in their right minds.

We are...in theory. We have more than we need.

But we ARE eating our children. We ARE cannibals.

In our culture, human embryos are being used in vaccines, in research, in ways that benefit us in expensive ways. Not only are we eating our children...we are paying for the privilege.

This is the stuff of sci-fi horror genres. This is the stuff born out of the depths of Hell. And as a country, we're voting it in and choosing it.

Human nature doesn't change. We are the same now as the people in the fertile crescent, B.C.

The ONLY thing that has changed is our ability to harness science to our own moral destruction.

America/Jerusalem. Same Diff.

Same result.

Wait and see.

Trash

This is something I wrote several years ago now, when I'd broken up with my boyfriend of 3 1/2 years. I'd thought I'd wanted to marry him. At the time I wrote this piece, it was only a few months later, and I'd learned via mass-email that he was now engaged to another woman. And I felt like trash, and some days, I still do.

** *** * *

I stood there, resolute in my promise to myself as I heard his car pull into the garage. I stood with the dogs out in the yard, happy that we were going to have this conversation in person, sure that it was the last.

He came out of the garage, slowly. My heart was in my throat, already knowing the answer. He wouldn’t even meet my eyes. He, the one who couldn’t even THINK of me, now couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

It was I who broke the uncomfortable silence.

“So am I going or staying?”


Silence.

He was greeting the dogs, still. At least someone was happy to see him. I had once used that same avoidance technique, years ago, avoiding a kiss that I didn’t want. It was a different man, a different dog, a different place. He patted the dog, then looked up at me, still bent over. He couldn’t even say what he had to say while standing.

For the first time, he looked me in the eye, still bent over, distracting himself. I knew before he even said the words.

“I think you’d better go.” He looked away, unable to say more.

I stared, my heart dropping, my game backfiring. The previous night, tired of being undervalued—maybe “non-valued” was the better term—I'd given the ultimatum. He'd been out elsewhere with other people, not caring that I'd been gone for two weeks. So I'd left, packing up everything I'd ever left at his house. All the little things. Leaving no trace of myself, wishing he couldn't even smell my perfume in the air. But I couldn't vacuum the air.

Later, after I'd left, knowing he'd already arrived home, I'd  had to call about necessary medication for one of the dogs, planning on leaving a message. He’d just walked in the door. He didn’t even notice I was gone!

I had to tell him I left. I even had to spell it out.

He hadn’t even noticed I was gone.

So I asked him if he wanted to break up. All the indications were there. He didn’t know. So I told him to think about where I belonged in his life, or if I didn’t belong at all.

Turns out that I didn't.

And immediately after that, he wanted to marry her!

Two weeks after we broke up, after a 3 year relationship, he started dating HER. A very nice person, a bit too much like me—and now he thinks she’s “the one.”

He went out with me for three years, knowing that he would NEVER marry me. He led me on, introduced me to his family—and he took me for granted.

He didn’t want me in his life, in his family. He wants to be my friend, fine.

But he thinks she’s the ONE!!!!

Just twist that dagger, there, ex.

He had said he loved me. He said that I was important to him.

I trusted him. I believed he loved me.

And I was just wallpaper. Just wallpaper, someone to be with, but someone who really doesn’t mean much.

Now I’m just yesterday’s trash, kicked to the curb. Three years, I carried our relationship, while he kept his secret to himself. She’s a buddy in the National Guard, he’s known her for 4 years. Was she the reason that he never introduced me to his Guard buddies? I was never going to be good enough, no matter what. He knew that, but kept the secret to himself, selfish. He just wanted a woman in his life. He sucked up my years, my life, wasting it for his own purposes.

Wasted.

Trash.

Funny how those terms go together. And now they resemble me.

And I can still feel that breeze in my hair, time and sound stopping, hearing the sound of “over.” Knowing how it feels to be trash.
*

The Terror of Motherhood

Last Friday I attended a barbecue at a friend's home, an annual affair that included her large family and many friends. While I didn't know everyone there, I did know many, and each year, if I can I attend because, even though I'm single, I've never once felt "left out" of anything. Most of the attendees are families, and even as I sat at a table, I was much hugged and greeted by those just arriving, adults and children alike. At these gatherings, it never seems to matter if a few of us are single; we are made to feel like a part of their own family and so it's a comfortable place to be.

But there is one moment that I continue to ponder, and that makes me realize how much I need a Spiritual Director as I move on with my own vocational discernment.

One of my friends (who was at the barbecue) recently had a baby, a dear little girl, and I have now twice proudly held her, so happy for my friend! I have another friend who, maybe a year ago, lost her unborn little one, the first conception she was aware of although she's been married for several years now. She suffers from a genetic disease, nothing apparent from the outside, but I know that this disease concerns her for every pregnancy would be high-risk for her. I don't know how widespread is the knowledge of their loss, but on Friday, I couldn't help but remember her pain when someone commented that she and her husband were "the ones they were waiting for."

She didn't say anything, just smiled, and I know they want children, and I ached for her, knowing what she's suffered and what she fears. But she answered graciously if diminuitively, and from that point, my own thoughts wandered a bit.

Even as we observe the pain and the joys of our married friends, we as single people are on the margins. It is not that we don't revel in their wonders and grieve with them. Rather, it is that we are not a part of "the club". Any club. And as much as they do to make us feel like family, we as single people will always be on the outside looking in. It's the reality of our lives, simple as that. I'm neither happy nor sad, although maybe it seems a little bittersweet to me.

As others were joking with my friend about the child we are all waiting for, I happened to catch upon their wording. "you're the last one." I realized I wasn't even in the running. It wasn't that I was being ignored; far from it! I am not married, and this is a wonderful group of Catholic families, and we all believe the same thing; that children come after marriage. (To be certain, this group would also be supportive of unmarried mothers and rejoice in the children...we are also a VERY pro-life crowd!) . Yet, in the natural order of things, the banter with my friend was gentle, not demanding or rude. It was banter among friends, among married friends who know the lingo and the questions. And it was beautiful.

But it was a moment to be captured for me, as I realized I was not a part of it and may never be. I am an unmarried woman and I have a sense that no one will EVER ask me that question and I might never have a child of my own.

And I'm going to say something shocking..the idea isn't really that disturbing to me. Bittersweet...but I can't decide if it's more bitter or sweet.

Is the Past the Past?

As a little girl, I used to talk about what I would be like as a mother. I played with dolls, but as I got older, it wasn't babies I wanted, rather, I wanted to be a hero. My childhood fantasies were never about abandoning motherhood, although as I got older, I didn't think of motherhood; I thought of a career. Even as I began my working life by serving in child care and I did love children,I did not see myself as a mother. During college I worked in adolescent psych, and it was there that I decided motherhood was not for me; the kids there, from children (5 and up to around 23) were so messed up, and I got so beat up verbally, emotionaly, and physically in that job that I decided I would never have children.

I was terrified I'd mess them up just as much as those I served. And I think I hated the parents who had done so much to wreck the human beings they had brought into the world. I could not be something I hated.

But there was another dimension, something I haven't often voiced; the very idea of childbirth is abhorrent to me. It's awful. I'd rather be disembowled (even though the experience is similar). I'm not sure where this fear came from, but there it is. I had it LONG before I took an EMT class back in 1998 in which I cringed in my seat as we watched a few births. I was a puddle on the floor, and my instructor took note. I was otherwise a star student; give me anything, I could handle it...blood, guts, and eyeballs, I could give the textbook treatment. Give me the textbook births, I could cringe and recite the facts, but give me the reality...? That's what my instructor did as our class practiced scenarios. My fear was obvious to everyone. Mothers in the class tried to help me, to no avail...I decided that children and childbirth weren't worth it. Yet, I knew that one day I could be called upon to help a woman in labor; I knew I needed the facts but I never wanted the experience.

And yet...I belived, even though I wasn't a practicing Catholic, that children were a gift. I believed in life. Even as I practiced death, both professionally and personally in my relationships.

For awhile, there was a man I thought I wanted to marry, and I was at my turning point; I knew I was Catholic and wanted to come Home. That also meant that I wanted to be married in the Church, and I had to be "open to life". I was struggling with a number of issues, and my boyfriend was not interested in going to church, although he was interested in learning about what I believed. I think God used him to help me in my own questions, and made me ask...am I willing to give in to my greatest fear in order to live life with this man I think I love?

I decided I'd have a child with and for him, and trust God to get me through it. Because, rationally, woman have been doing this for millenia...who was I to have such a stupid fear?

Yet it was not to be...not with him, maybe not ever.

When I returned to the Church, for a short time I had a Spiritual Director, and while I never confessed my DEEPEST fears, I did share with him my hesitancy about children, around the time I confessed I thought I was called to religious life.

This priest told me that one must be called to motherhood and religious life both; meaning that good Sisters and Nuns are ALSO good mothers. You can't hate children and be a good mother to anyone. You can't hate children and be a good priest. It was across the board; he wasn't picking on me.

And his words have not left me. I still wonder about them. I've grown, and no, I don't hate children. I think they're wonderful. And the idea of labor...well, it's not pleasant, but knowing about redemptive suffering helps a great deal.

Yet...I don't think I'm called to motherhood. I have a sense that I will never be married, but I'm not sure I'm called to religious life, either. I look at different communities and consider their lives, especially given that I work in a church. But none of it attracts me. This afternoon I realized that I love my solitude, yet it doesn't fulfill me.

I love the idea of marriage and being married, and I'm willing to accept all that goes with marriage. But I have to wonder if I'm still romanticizing marriage? I know that our lives here are only temporary. There is no marriage in Heaven.

Yet, then I consider religious life; nothing really attracts me. I am attracted, like marriage, to the IDEA of religious life, and think it beautiful. Yet it still involves something foreign to me; life with other people; people you can't get away from. And maybe assignments that one cannot refuse.

The community I visited for prayer and do intend to visit for a weekend could send me to a parish or a school or a nursing home...and I won't have a say in where I go. Will I be happy? Knowing that, really, I'm not fulfilled even where I am? Am I too set in my ways? Am I fit for such a life? Can I be obedient or has my life of survival-oriented philosophy destroyed my ability to conform to a community of any sort?

I'm in a tough position...I like children, but I don't feel that "biological clock" ticking away. Just a small sadness that no one will ever ask to see my child. And I look at religious life, rapidly passing me by as more and more communities are eliminated the older I get, and I hear the echo of the priests words; that I must be a Mother even to be a Sister.

Does my lack of desire for motherhood destroy the potential vocation to consecrated life?

The odd thing is, that in vocational discernment, one knows they are giving up one thing for another. I'm giving up nothing, and it's paralyzing me.

I have nothing to sacrifice.

It's not a sacrifice to give up motherhood when I don't really feel called to it and haven't since I was a child and considered it the only option in life.

It's not a sacrifice to give up religious life when I'm not sure it's where I belong, anyway, or if I could handle it.

It's not a sacrifice to give up the single life, because I don't live it like "Sex in the City" anyway, and I don't think I'm fulfilled in this state even as I do live it out. I don't at all feel called to be a "Consecrated Virgin". And don't mention Regnum Christi..I won't discuss it.

Yet this year, I was told I was a mother, by a woman who is a grandmother. And in the next moment, congratulated by a mother with a few of her own, for the children I don't have but "might" in the future.

What's really sad is that I know my agony is not my own; it doesn't belong to me. It belongs to an entire collective of disenfranchized women who have grown up in an atmosphere of hatred towards motherhood, hatred of holiness, and hatred of anything other than self-fulfillment through temporal means.

I haven't found happiness in this world, it doesn't exist in this world, and yet...we know we belong in this world because God brought us into being. How can we find where we really belong? We are not a sum of our dysfunctional families, but as I pointed out to a Sister I spoke with today...how do we know God's will when the foundation He established has been destroyed for so many of us? How do we know where we belong when nothing seems to fit?

How do we answer a call we can't hear because we don't know the language?

How can we overcome cultural indoctrination that has destroyed the foundation that is supposed to build us up?

*

Can you hear the echoes of the culture of fragmented family reverberating between the walls of objective reality? Is it any wonder so many souls have been and continue to be shattered by a culture that seeks only itself to the detriment of our own humanity?

Fertility

This weekend, in conversation with my classmates, the topic of large families came up. One woman's sister happens to have four children, and for some reason, people insist on making snide comments to her about the number and kind of her offspring. They even go so far as to tell her about birth control. The dear woman, who happens to have an M.D. behind her name, just smiles sweetly and thanks these people for their concern about her fertility.

Which always makes her point.

Myself, I tend to be more blunt. If someone had the audacity to comment on my fertility, I'd probably take a deep breath, while considering the proposition of birth control. The conversation would go something like this:

Rude person (RP): FOUR children? Aren't you DONE yet? You know, you can get contraceptives so you don't continue to have this problem.

Me: (deep breath, eyes upward, as though considering.) Contraceptives? You mean "birth control?" (smile sweetly)

RP: (condescending) Yeah, you know, the pill?

Me: Oh, of course. Thanks for your concern about my fertility. And since you brought it up...do you know that contraceptives are an abortifacient? That's a big word that means "causes abortions". And since you're such a fan, I'm just wondering.... (still smiling sweetly)...have you kept track of how many of your children you've flushed down the toilet every month?

Did I Kill My Little Girl?

This was originally posted on the ides of March, and I took it down. I am putting it up again in honor of Respct Life Sunday. It may come down again soon.

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I am terrified to write this post. There are some parts of my past that I have alluded to but have never come out directly to admit, and part of that is pride; I want to be seen as a "good Catholic girl." The truth is that maybe today I'm mostly a "good Catholic woman" but in the past, I was not. I got lost and I bought into our culture, and it's terrifying and even humiliating to admit the mistakes I made while I was wandering around in the desert of my own creation.

But I am even MORE terrified that someday, I may meet another woman with the same questions I have now, and she will ask me why I never brought this up. She will ask me why I didn't warn her and why I didn't try to save her babies. I can't undo my past, but I CAN influence someone else's future.

A few years ago, I was involved in a "long-term relationship", and we used contraception. I remember my willful ignorance, most of which I gained from "informed" sources, even when that information was contradicted. I had a roommate, a left-wing liberal Democrat social worker, who told me that contraception does, in fact, cause abortions. It does this because contraception cannnot necessarily suppress ovulation. And if ovulation occurs, and a child is conceived, that zygote cannot be implanted. Contraception makes the womb uninhabitable and flushes the new life out and away and into death.

I rejected what she said because I didn't like it, even though it struck me as truth. She let me live out my denial. After all, it was nothing to her; she was pro-"choice" to the core. She would have been the first in line to drive me down to Planned Parenthood for an abortion (and she expressed this to me on one occasion). Yet truth can come even in these unlikely packages. My friend told me the truth because she was my friend and she knew that I didn't believe in abortion. It must have cost her to somewhat compromise her own liberal agenda out of love for me, her friend, to help me not carry out something she knew was against my own values.

People are puzzling, aren't they?

But I still didn't listen to her. Not then, anyway, but even today, I hear her voice, and I ask questions. I have to wonder; in those years, did I kill a child that was supposed to come into the world?

One day at work as I counted down the night-shift hours, I saw a black-and-white photograph of a little girl and I KNEW I needed to reproduce this image. I took out my art supplies and carefully began to draw. I tenderly began to form the features that made up her face, her eyes, and her hair. I put deep, deep love into each and every stroke of the pencil and then of the charcoal. And then I carefully colored in her own personal hue, trying to infuse life into her pudgy baby-fat cheeks. I kept the sadness in her face, the solemn gaze in her eyes, and the subtle pout to her lips.

This child spoke to me. This child could have been mine.

I don't have a lot of my own art work on my walls, but this is one that was destined from its conception to face me every single day. Several people have asked me if she is mine, if she is related to me, or if she is someone I know. These questions have always amazed me because I do not see any outward connection to me, especially given her skin tone (I'm white), yet by their questions they prove to me that some of the artist goes into each work of art; just as part of the parent goes into each new life. This is why, when I look at this picture, I see what might have been. I see myself and I see her father. And by the comments of friends, they see us, too.

I see my little girl. A little girl who never came to be because I might have killed her.

Please, please, I beg you from the bottom of my heart and the depths of my soul to throw away your pills, your condoms, your sponges, your IUD's, and, please, don't kill your baby.

Can you really look into the eyes of this child and deny her life?

Unexpected Blessings

I just love how the Lord works. He constantly blows me away with his love and mercy, with the smallest of concerns. In fact...there are no concerns too small for God. Today was a lesson in that.

I went to Adoration this afternoon, and ne of the things I prayed about was my dreams involving Fire. I know I did the right thing, I was there, I said goodbye, and yes, I miss him. Jesus and I had a great discussion about that, and he said that he speaks to us in dreams...why am I not listening? I so rarely understand when such cryptic things come to me in prayer, so I just threw my hands up as usual (so to speak) and asked him to reveal himself and what he meant. That part of my prayer was answered today; it is that other people feel as I do when they suffer a loss, and sometimes, we are in the circumstances in which we can provide that answer to another soul. I will explain.

While I was there, I sensed that I should take my dog to the dog park this afternoon for awhile. I didn't really want to go; while I love going there, today is a warm day, it's rush hour, and a thousand other excuses. And then I was guilty for being distracted in prayer. I wasn't sure what I would do, but en route home from the church, I knew I had to go to the dog park. I figured I'd let her chase a ball for awhile, give her water, and come home. And that's what happened...but there's more to the story.

This is where it gets good...

There was no one at the park when we arrived, which wasn't surprising. 4 pm on a Thursday afternoon? People are at work, and it's a hot day. My German Shepherd and I are the only nutjobs dumb enough to be out on such an afternoon.

I was thinking about leaving when a car pulled up behind mine and a woman got out with her dog. I figured my dog could use some canine contact so decided to stay. Sure enough, the new dog made a beeline for us, and the woman who arrived commented that my dog looked just like Sadie.

She asked me where I got her? "The Humane Society", I told her. "A few years ago."

She was insisting that she never thought she'd see this dog again...that was Sadie. I told her that when I adopted her, she was called "Sugar Bear" and I had to change the name.

By this time, the woman was very excited, and I was a little shocked. "That's Her! When we got her, she was called Sugar Bear! We called her Sadie! CAN I HUG YOU? We were heartbroken when my parents had to give her up!"

So this afternoon, that's how I found myself hugging a stranger in a dog park in suburbia.

For a little backstory....when I adopted my girl, the Humane Society gave me her history. First she was brought in by a girl who was going to college, so had to give her up. Then a woman adopted her for her parents, who had recently lost their dog. She had a good home with that couple, but the man was diagnosed with terminal cancer, they realized they could not care for her, so found her a home. Those people couldn't care for her so brought her back to the Humane Society. She was adopted once or twice after that, and then came to me, where she has been ever since.

The woman I met today is the same one who adopted her for her parents! She explained that they were heartbroken; they LOVED this dog to death and always wondered what had become of her. J., the woman I spoke with today, revealed that she and her husband wanted to adopt her but they had cats and "Sadie" was not good with cats. So they, too, were heartbroken because they'd fallen in love with this sweet-natured German Shepherd. J. said that she had prayed to God that she'd found a good home, and was worried she'd gone to some crazy family that ignored her or treated her badly. All she wanted to know was whether their "Sadie" was all right.

She looked at me, then, thrilled. She could see with her own eyes that "Sadie", now Tikaani, is wonderful. She's healthy, happy, and has a good home. I told her how she came to be with me and how she's been...she was familiar with some of her behaviors, asked how that had gone, and it was just an amazing conversation.

And just to make the Hand of God so clear; she was there today with a dog that does not belong to her. She is taking care of her while her relatives are out of town, but they are coming back and today was her last day at the park as she does not have a dog of her own right now.

Can there really be any doubt that my presence there today had nothing to do with me, or my dog, but the answer to a prayer for a woman who wanted a little grace,a little peace, and made her request out of love? I'm not sure which of us was more blessed today:  me, for having a front seat to God's abundant love, or her, for having recieved the answer to a humble prayer?

But there's another facet to our meeting, perhaps a much deeper one. When she pulled up behind my car, not knowing at the time that she was about to be reunited with a favored pet, she took note of my bumper stickers. I have a pro-life sticker from a verse from Isaiah: "Before you were formed in the womb I knew you..." (It says more but I forget the rest.)

She commented, "Oh! A woman after my own heart!" She explained she and her husband are trying to conceive, so abortion really ticks her off. Here they are trying so hard to bring a new life into the world, and others are slaughtering their children. They are now looking to adopt, but still have hope God may bless their marriage with their own children.

I had the sense she is not Catholic, but is a practicing Christian. I asked her if she'd heard of the Pope Paul VI center. It's not based in MN, but she asked if they have something local? She knows people who went through a Christian fertility center, but doesn't know what it's called. Since I'm not married and don't have children, I'm not familiar with local resources, so I just suggested she look into NFP or look for an NFP only doctor...I explained that there is a ton of science behind NFP and couples have used this method TO BECOME PREGNANT when faced with fertility issues. She didn't seem thrilled, so didn't comment and slightly changed the subject.

So I am asking you all for prayers for her and her husband. She seems to be a delightful person, is my age, maybe a little younger and had she not told me she has no children, I would have assumed she was a mother. She SEEMS like a mother, and is clearly a very loving soul.

She did take my email down, so if any of you, esp. from the Mpls.- St. Paul area are familiar with good Catholic and other Christian fertility clinics (read: no in-vitro, no contraceptive chemicals, no tube babies, no surrogate, etc.), please post links. I know about omsoul.org and the Paul VI Institute (I think that's what it's called)and the Couple to Couple League, but is there anything else locally? I'd love to be able to send her some links if she does email me.

Above all, keep this couple in your prayers, that the Lord will bless their marriage and grant them a new life to nurture and offer for His glory.

Our God is a God of Miracles

I believe in miracles because I am both the product and the subject of a miracle.

Shortly after she was married, Mom was told that she would never have children. But, in defiance of the great god Science, she conceived and bore a son, and called him her firstborn. And Heaven rejoiced.

Then, two years later, roughly, she conceived and bore a daughter. Either before or during her gestation, Roe v. Wade passed and so people were embolded to approach her to say unspeakable things. Mom and Dad both suffered from visible genetic defects; Mom was born with only one hand, Dad had Spina Biffeda. So while Mom's belly was swollen with me, she was attacked with great hatred by the culture of death that suggested remorselessly that she murder her child in deference to their preference to live in a world without such imperfection as herself.

I can't imagine the anguish this must have caused my mother. That alone should qualify her as a martyr and speed her canonization.

So then I was born, and Heaven rejoiced. But alas, I was born with a very lazy eye, turned so far inward that as I got older, the doctors told my Mom I would never have depth perception, I would never be able to so much as stack blocks. Mom was devastated, but she opted not to kill me although certain factions of culture would have liked to see such a thing occurr.

I still remember an eye doctor appointment during which I heard the word "surgery". I remember the doctor discussing with my mother how certain muscles would be cut and reattached, the risks (which I did not understand) and the probability for success. The appointment was set for a few days or couple weeks later. It was to be a simple surgery, apparently.

I remember going to Mom's friend's house the day before my scheduled surgery. Mom's friends' name was Barb, and she was about Mom's height, a little older, and she had dark wavy, short hair. She was very friendly and talked a lot. They had a split-level home with blue carpeting and nice furniture. They were nice people and they had a littl girl a bit younger than me and sent us off to play together. That little girl was as blue as the carpet.

Mom explained to me later that she was sick and wasn't going to be in this world for very long. (Many years later I learned her diagnosis; Congenital heart disease. She was a "blue baby"). That little girl actually lived far longer than she was "supposed to."

I remember a certain sense of peace about her, as though she knew she was dying, but it didn't diminish her life. She was just like every other little girl everywhere, but for her blue color and her need to rest a little more often.

While we were there, she and I were called into the livingroom where all the adults were, including some other people I'd never seen before. I seem to remember people exclaiming over us and my lazy eye.

I was a very very shy child, hated to be the center of attention, and did my best to not be noticed. But since my new blue friend was with me, I felt better because they were making much out of her as well. There is solidarity in such things.

The group of adults stood in a circle around us, and I remember Barb praying for healing for us. Other people spoke up, too. I hated being there and I made faces at my new friend to release some tension. She was very used to this so didn't understand my discomfort, and stared back at me soberly. I took a cue from her and stopped, enduring the embarassment of so many people paying attention to me at once.

Shortly after that, and maybe some hugs from our new friends, and promises to return, we left.

I remember holding Mom's hand as we went to the hospital where I was prepped for surgery.

There was a quick pre-op exam, and the doctor stood up and called for someone else. They left the room. They came back, checked again, and told Mom that surgery was not necessary.

I remember walking out with Mom, not understanding my sense of relief, not understanding Mom's wonderment. I was completely oblivious to what had happened.

Mom wasn't.

It was a bona-fide miracle. My condition, which had been monitored since my birth, was not a self-correcting type of condition. I literally needed surgery to turn my eye straight.

But overnight, the condition was corrected to the degree that surgery was not needed.

I actually always thought that Barb and her family and friends were Charismatic Catholics, because sometime around then, Mom had taken us to a Charismatic prayer meeting. I only learned last weekend that they were actually Assembly of God.

I have been pondering this and considering whether this new information affects my perspective in any way.

I've decided it has not. Rather, I am coming to a new understanding of true ecumanism, in fact, the true meaning of it. I do not remember that they were trying to convert us. It seemed there was a great deal of mutual respect for our religious beliefs and theirs, and through their concern for their children, these adults bonded over what was common and addressed God in unity.

I think only a suffering mother can relate to another suffering mother, and those prayers are powerful.

I was healed that day. I found out that about a year later, that other little girl died. I also seem to remember her praying for me with her family.

I am humbled, and I pray that this little girl is in Heaven, praying for me still for I sense that her prayers are powerful.

Do not fear to believe in miracles; they happen every day, to people all over the world.

I am typing these words today not through braille, but through living eyes, a sense of sight Mom was told I would never have. These very words are the result of a miracle.

Thank you, God, for this gift of sight. Thank you, God, for Mom's gift of faith. Thank you, God. for Barb and her family/friend's gifts of faith and prayer, and thank you, God, every day, for the gifts of holy friendship.

Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi

I keep hearing about how men are fleeing the Church, how men are not involved in worship, how men of today find the Church to be too feminized.

I agree that it seems to be women who run almost everything, and historically it has been women who lead men into the faith. We seem to have that power, but is this a surprise? For wasn't it Eve who lead Adam, even though it was Adam who was created first?

This is part of the gift of femininity; we have an affinity for God, for contemplative communication, a need to be nurtured so that we, in turn, can be nurtured.

But somehow, this beautiful gift of God has become warped, and what we are seeing today has to do with the introduction of the demonic ideology of radical feminism.

The Church has become overly - feminized in a political manner, completely divorced from the true function of the Church and completely ruptured from the true meaning and representation of feminism. What we see today is a host of innovative liturgies, citing "Vatican II", which clearly speaks against innovation and, in fact, the document "Sacrosanctum Concilium" was written to reform the innovations that had appeared in what is now referred to as the Tridentine Mass.

This current dysfunction has everything to do with rejection of Tradtion, rejection of Truth, rejection of all that is Holy in favor of all that is "here now, gone tomorrow." It has been the radical feminists who have introduced New Age components into the churches and liturgies we now witness or experience. We hear references to "Gaia", God as a "she", and "homilies" by lay women crying out for female ordination, betraying the poor catechesis and lack of understanding of the solid theology of the Church. We see an outright rejection of the beauty of true human sexuality, resulting in a disordered objectification of immoral sexual union outside of the sacredness of marriage as a replacement for understanding of human dignity.

We see that the "feminization" of the Church is nothing but a twisted deception, for the Church, at her nature, has ALWAYS been feminine, for the soul of the Church is Marian. The soul of the Church projects us all as the Bride of Christ, of which Mystical Wedding was consummated upon the Cross. It is the place of the Church as a whole to be receptive to Christ, who gives everything for us, thus for we, His Bride, to give fully of ourselves.

Not so surprising, then to see in the actions of radical feminism so prolific today, the rejection of authority, of Christ, of God the Father, by those who also reject life through use of contraception, who advocate the slaughter of children in the womb. We see a complete rejection of all of the holiness of womanhood. We see a full rejection of all things feminine as women seek to make themselves "equal" to men, although their definition of "equality" is more synonymous with androgyny.

I've been hearing for most of my life about the "mysogynist" tendencies of the Church, about how "patriarchial and oppressive" the Church is, but over time, I have come to see how those very terms apply more to the resulting tyranny of women who have followed Eve and listened to the lie of the serpent, set to lead Adam into the sin that rejected us all from the Garden of Eden.

For you see, the Serpent went after Eve because he knew that if he had her, he had Adam. Eve actually resisted the serpent, seeing his lie, and responded with the truth...so he dug deeper and lead her into temptation and sin. If you read Genesis again, you'll see that Adam didn't even bat an eye. Rather, he simply accepted what he was given without question.

What a lesson. We see the gift of man and woman here; we see as we do even today how, although men have strength and leadership, it is the women who build them up and bring them down. Our roles are complimentary, and our powers cannot be abused, for when they are, we see the actual de-feminization of the Church proclaimed under the guise of "feminization".

The Church has always been feminine in nature; from the music, the trappings, the contemplation and mysticism, the beauty and serenity in architecture and in liturgical practice. Amazingly, men have also been drawn into this, as they cannot help but be drawn into the mantle of Our Lady who comforts them and gives them the strength they need to be true men after the example of Christ.

What we see today, however, are churches stripped of beauty, music divested of devotion and artistry, lyrics which sing to the people and not to the God we are there to worship. We see a complete de-personalization of Truth. We see bland, lackluster worship which cries out for innovation. We see masculinity in style rather than what is intended, that of the trappings of the Bride waiting to receive her Beloved.

Ironically, the radical feminists, under the guise of their ideology, have put our Mother Mary into the back seat, choosing to ignore her humble fiat in favor of seeking the secular understanding of power in the form of "ordination" and their misguided sense of "participation" stemming from their misreading and misinterpretation of Vatican II documents.

The Church has, as a result, actually been stripped of her feminine nature, which has resulted in the mass exodus of many worshippers, especially men. Men who are Marian remain and become involved as defenders of the feminine, which is what they are wired to be. But when the feminine mystery is stripped from the Church, what is left to defend? Where is the honor and the beauty? Where is the purity? Why should the men remain when there is nothing apparent to identify the Bride as what she is? Why defend an androgynous anomoly? From what?

These are strong words, but I state them as truth: Radical Feminism has penetrated and defiled the Church and has left her violated and bereft. Is there any surprise, then, that men are not engaging in worship? The very violence of the rape of the culture, the destruction of the feminine mystery, the propagation of death in secularity has invaded the Church and has violated us. Can we really be surprised that our Churches which have come to mimic secular "values" are no longer a haven to men or to women, but rather have become temples to the false idols of self-worship?

The Church has been violated to her very soul, and if we cannot keep the world out, how can we heal and become restored and remain the haven to which all can flee in order to be empowered to proclaim the love of Christ?

What is needed is a true renewal, a return to Truth, to Traditions, and to the embrace of our Mother. We need to reject the ideologies of the world which do not have our needs at heart, those ideologies which seek only to destroy life wherever it is found.

We need to truly re-feminize the Church, get rid of all the innovation and New-Ageyness that has permeated many liturgies and parishes, and bring back true liturgical music and Catholic prayers. We need to rebuild the Bride, recognize our roles in the Mystical Body, and seek once again the unsurpassable beauty which has been so abused and forgotten.

Then the men will embrace what it means to be men, what it means to defend the honor of the Church, what it means to stand up before the culture and proclaim the Kingdom of God.