Liturgy on BROADWAY!

Just the other day I was musing over the show-tune fare offered to us at Mass. You know those old and tired song-and-dance rhymes from Haugen-Haas-Joncas? And while I toyed with the idea of writing a Broadway-style script (or Vaudeville, maybe, or even Burlesque!) based on Haugen-Haas, I've decided that maybe it would be easier to follow the example from the L.A. Religious Ed. Conference, and write my OWN Mass. And instead of using the same-ol'-same-ol', I decided to use some REAL Broadway tunes!

I mean...if we're going to be humming show tunes, we should at least have enough taste to hum the things that haven't bothered to out of style and will ALWAYS entertain! And in fact, some of the Broadway and off-Broadway showtunes are just as relevant to Mass as the dated drug and heresy-inspired compositions provided by Haugen-Haas-Joncas!

What a BRILLIANT idea! But wait....there's MORE!

And I thought- so I thought to myself...how 'bout I take the tunes from Broadway, and cast the different characers - I mean - roles - in the Mass, and not only use the music, but use it to tell the story about what's happening in that church? What if a lone voice for orthodoxy stood up at the right time...what would happen? Why not do what the modernists are doing, and use show tunes, and tell the truth about what's REALLY going on? Because, as the progressives have taught us, Mass isn't about God...it's about US! So let's CELEBRATE OURSELVES! Let's sing and dance and tell the truth, because there is no sin..it's all social. And if it's out in the open air, it can't be sin anymore, because we have to forgive each other!

Jesus was a really nice guy. He really was. We should all try to be as nice and loving and peaceful as He was. After all...it's not like there was blood involved in His saving us. Don't be so melodramatic.

So, I've gone through my showtune library, and I'm working on editing some of the lyrics, but just off the top of my head, this is what I wrote as a program...uh...I mean, Worship Aid...for what the graduates of a local college here insist on calling "Liturgy":



Prelude: Anything Goes!
(Adapted from Anything Goes)


Gathering Song: There's No Business like Church Business!
(adapted from "No Business Like Show Business", Annie Get Your Gun)

MEN'S CHORUS:

The costumes, the scenery, the makeup, the props
The dancers that lift you when you're down

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
The heartaches, the alter server’s flip flops
The ushers who dance in the aisles

MEN'S CHORUS:
The opening when your Tom-toms beat like a drum

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
The closing when we celebrate ourselves!

ALL:
There's no business like Church business
Like no business I know

Everything about it is appealing
Nothing the rubrics will allow
No where could you have that happy feeling
When you’re fully defying, the Vatican!

There's no people like Church people
They smile when they disobey!

MEN'S CHORUS:
Yesterday we told you you would not go far

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
That night we were ordained and here we are

MEN'S CHORUS:
Next day on your sacristy We've hung a star

ALL:
Let's go on with the SHOW!

MEN'S CHORUS:
The servers, the choir, the bread, and the wine
The priestesses that wear the tablecloths!


WOMEN'S CHORUS:
The music, the spotlights, the people, the Pow’r
Your baggage with the feminazi pawns!

MEN'S CHORUS:
The colors and swirls and emasculation

WOMEN'S CHORUS:
The funky drape we've turned into an alb!

ALL:
There's no business like Church business
If you tell me it's so
Traveling out of the country is so thrilling
Standing out to be ordained secretly
Smiling as you watch the benches filling
And see your billing up there on the boat!

There's no people like Church people
They smile when they are wrong
Even with theology you know will fold
You may be choosing excommunication
Still you wouldn't trade it for a sack o' gold
Let's go on with the show
Let's go on with the show!
The show!
It’s all we want to know!


Responsorial: Old Deuteronomy
(Adapted for liturgy, choral - congregation, CATS)


Alleluia: Alleluia It's Rainin' Men
(Abba!)


Offertory: Father Hanks the Heretic *** _ _ *** See below for lyrics
(Adapted from Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat, CATS)

FATHER HANKS THE HERETIC

CHOIR:
Father Hanks the Heretic, Pastor of Saint Heresy!

Father:
There's a whisper down the line at eleven twenty-nine
When the Liturgist’s ready to begin
Saying, "Father where is Father?
Is he diving in baptism water?
We must find him or no Liturgy!"

All the ushers and the servers
And the old sacristan’s daughters
Would be searching high and low
Saying "Father where is Father for unless he holds his water
Then the Liturgy just can't go.”

At eleven thirty-two with the signal overdue
And the Liturgist all frantic to begin
That's when I would appear and I'd saunter to the rear
I'd been lost in the labyrinth!

Liturgist:
Then he gave one glance
To the Lord of the Dance
They'd be off at last to the front of the mass, to the middle of the liturgy!


Choir:
Father Hanks, the Heretic
Pastor of St. Heresy!

Liturgist:
You might say that by and large it was me who was in charge
Of the dancing parish mess
From the choir to the drums to the dancers in their tights
I would supervise them all more or less

Down the aisle Father prances and examines all the faces
Of the travellers in all the rows
But I’ve established control in the pastoral council
And I’d know if a spy was there.

I could watch you without blinking and see what you were thinking
And know for certain you don’t approve
Of hilarity and riot but I’d advise to be very quiet
While Father and I are on the move

You could call the Bishop on Father Heresy
She’s a "priest" that can’t be ignored
But all is well with our liturgical show
When "Father" Heresy is aboard

But it ticked us off when they went to the Bishop
To report about our liturgy!
But the Bishop didn’t care, said get out of his hair
And he did nothing because he didn’t see.

In our liturgy it’s all about “me!”
Because that’s what Vatican II said
And we don’t care if it’s not really there
And the funny little basin to dispose of the sacrament
Is better used to throw away old vino.


Choir:
Father Hanks, the Heretic
Pastor of St. Heresy!

Father Heresy:

In the middle of the night when awakened by a call
To hospice to visit the sick
I take a drop of scotch while I was keeping on the watch
Only stopping long enough to call a cab.

The sick are fast asleep and so they never knew
That I was walking up and down the hallway
They were sleeping all the while I couldn’t find the room
Until I stumbled on a custodian’s broom.

They might see me at the DNC when I’m there to support Dems
If there was anything they ought to know about

So when they go to the polls they vote with me
For Father Heresy doesn’t care what’s right!

So I’ll give you a bow to your divinity
Which says “I’ll wash your feet again!”
But I'll be sleeping at Midnight Mass

ALL: The Pastor of St. Heresy!


Communion: Maybe *** _ _ *** See Below for lyrics
(Adapted from Annie)

It May be Liturgy…
Or maybe not so much
Jesus pouring His blood…
Or can we save ourselves?

Maybe in a Church
All hidden in a veil
Someone’s praying to Jesus
Neo-caths for renewal!

Betcha that they're young
Betcha that they're smart
Bet they’ve read the RUBRICS
And like Icons and Art!

Betcha that they pray --
(And study quite a bit)
Their one mistake
Was admitting to it!

So maybe now it's time,
And maybe when I cry
They'll be there calling me “Traddie…”
Maybe.

Betcha we can try
Betcha we can pray
Maybe Holy Father hopes
The Church will be reformed

Maybe he is strict
As straight as a line...
I don’t really mind….
As long as he cares…

So maybe now this prayer's
The last one of it's kind...
Won't you please come renew our Church…?

[CHILDREN’S CHORUS]
May - be….!

Secondary Communion Hymn: Doin' What Comes Naturallly! (Adapted from Annie Get Your Gun)

Folks are dumb where I come from,
They ain't had any learning.
Still they're happy as can be
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally).
Folks like us could never fuss
With CCC and CCD and learnin’
And we’ve ignored the Baltimore CC!,
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally)

You don't have to know how to sing or pray
When you're out meetin’ Gaia in a labyrinth!
You don't have to look in a book to find out
What to know about God in a terebinth!
That comes naturally (that comes naturally).

My uncle out in L.A. can't even kneel to pray
But he dances LA Conference
And we like him just the same!

If you saw my pa and ma,
You'd know they didn’t want children
So they've flushed their family
Usin’ contraception! (usin’ contraception!)

Cousin Jack has never read the rubrics on liturgy
Still he twangs guitar in Life Teen!
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally).

Sister Sal who's musical has never hear Gregorian
Still she sings contemp’rary
Doin' what comes naturally (doin' what comes naturally).

You don't have to go a Catholic school
To learn how to vest in the vestibule!
You don't have to have a Theo Prof’s Tome
To make it up as you go along!
That comes naturally (that comes naturally).


Recessional: Finale
(Adapted from same title, Annie Get Your Gun, see Gathering Song, medly of all above)

Postlude: Angelical Kids
(Adapted from Jellicle Cats, CATS)

To Love God

Indeed, only then do we possess a truth completely when we teach it to others, when we make others share our contemplation; only then do we wholly love God when we desire to make Him loved by all. Give money away, or spend it, and it is no longer yours. But give God to others and you possess Him more fully for yourself. We may go even further and say that, if we desired only one soul to be deprived of Him, if we excluded only one soul - even the soul of one who persecutes and calumniates us - from our own love, then God Himself would be lost to us.

~ Rev. R. Garrigou-LaGrange, OP

Year Two Begins

Tonight I begin my second year of class. After this weekend of marathon classes, I will be back to the routine of irregular work hours, studying when I can, trying to find unbroken time, Saturday morning at the coffee shop, and agonizing over papers.

And then the last week before class, scrambling to get finished, knowing I haven't read everything, forgetting things...speaking of which...I can't remember all the books of the Old Testament and I KNOW our prof is going to test us on them tonight! Especially the major and minor prophets, which is what this class is about!

But the good news is that we'll be using the Summa a lot this semester for our Christian Anthropology class, among other sources, and Spiritual Theology...well, I'm not sure what all that will consist in. But hey! I'll know more by the end of the day Sunday!

So, all of you, enjoy your weekend...I'll be sitting in a classroom. The entire time.

Tell me again why I'm doing this?
*

Presenting Ourselves for Holy Communion

In my previous post, in which I discussed nearly missing an opportunity for Confession, a couple commenters brought up an important point. Although their point did not apply in my case (as I was not at the church to attend Mass that evening), it COULD apply to some people and so I thought this would be a good opportunity to discuss our approach of the Sacraments.

Just this afternoon, I spoke with a teen who had visited a parish offering a Spanish language Mass, and he noticed that only about half of the Spanish-speaking people who attended did not present themselves for Holy Communion, and he wondered why...for in his home parish EVERYONE goes to Communion.

It was an opportunity to discuss the need of us to receive the Lord only if we are in a state of grace so as to avoid profaning the Body and Blood of Christ. And he understood this, yet by his query, I realized that others likely wonder about the same thing...why are people not going forward at Communion?

It goes back again to the idea that we NEED to have a certain desperation for the Sacraments, something completely lacking in our culture for they are so abundantly offered. We also, in this country, have an attitude of entitlement; that we have a "right" to something, and through some very lacking catechesis, many have never been taught the reality of personal sin, of taking responsiblity for sin, and that they cannot present themsevles for Holy Communion if they have committed mortal sin.

The teachings have been so watered down for a few generations that Catholics today think nothing of deciding for themselves that their sins are not mortal because they don't see anything wrong with something "everyone" in society is doing. And so we have short Confession lines, and long Communion lines. Or, I guess it's entirely possible that we have many parishes filled to the brim with perfect Saints who have no need to confess what they haven't done.

Right.

Now, it's important to say that if you have not messed up insanely and committed mortal sin, you don't need to go to Confession every time you go to Mass. And, of course, if you ARE in a state of grave sin, you STILL have the obligation to ATTEND Mass on Sunday, however, you should refrain from going to Communion until you've received Sacramental Confession. The same applies for Daily Mass...if you are in a state of grave sin, you can and should still attend Mass, but remain in your pew and make a Spiritual Communion through prayer, and resolve to receive the Sacrament of Penance as soon as you are able.

Last night, if my intention was to attend Mass and I had not been in time for Confession, I would not have presented myself for Communion. In the past, my parish did not offer the Sacrament before Mass, but afterwards, and in fact, this was an important factor in my conversion! I could not receive Communion, and attending Mass without being able to receive what I realized was truly the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ was the very thing that goaded me to overcome my fear and go to Confession!

Thus if you discern that you might not be in a state of grace, DO attend Mass and let your abstinence from Holy Communion serve to pierce your soul, forcing you to realize the union you no longer have with our Lord. Gaze upon the Crucifix and comprehend how deeply and passionately He loves you...and allow that love to bring you to the throne of His Mercy in the Sacrament of Confession.

*

Desperation for the Sacraments

This evening I left work earlier than planned because I REALLY needed to get to Confession, and there is a traffic snarl reminiscent of Hell in the general area of my home. The main highway bottlenecks a few miles before my exit, so during rush hour I always exit before I hit the backup. But there's a parallel route that is under construction and down to one lane, and two days ago I learned about than when I had taken that particular route home. But I got off before the major construction, and learned that had I come to that shortcut from the North instead of the south, I would have had to backtrack...because the connecting road was COMPLETELY closed due to construction. Whew!, I thought to myself. Dodged that one!

BUT! I have since learned that ALL possible alternate routes are completely useless...3 of them are under construction, and of those, 2 are completely blocked!

Knowing this, I left work early and took the last possible route only to learn that, ironically, it would have been better to just stay on the main highway...at least THAT was inching along. Not like the gridlock on the side streets!

So it was that I was biting my nails and praying really hard to get to Confession in time. At my parish, confessions are before Mass, giving the priest just enough time to finish and prepare for Mass. We try to respect the posted times in order to give him that time because of course, at some point he has to dart out of the confessional!

I got to the church with only 15 minutes left of Confession...hoping there was no line.

When I walked into the chapel, though, my heart sank...about 5 people in line ahead of me. It was by then 6:34. And these people were in NO HURRY to make their confessions, apparently. So I prayed and fidgeted, staring at Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, begging to have enough time, begging for the Sacrament. Desperate to be reconciled to Him. Knowing that I might have been too late, and that the potential was that I might have to walk away, denied the Sacrament I needed.

I did not begrudge the people standing in line ahead of me...I assume they were as desperate as I, for NO ONE likes to stand in line waiting for Confession. I think it's part of the penance. It's Pre-Penance.

I just made that up. But that's what it feels like.

Yet, standing there realizing my desperation, I considered what it must be like for those Catholics in places like the Sudan and China and Saudi Arabia, or even ALASKA, where it might be difficult to receive ANY of the sacraments. And it might be impossible to be absolved even once per year! Maybe it's many years, but not out of desire for the Sacrament, but from unavailability.

I realized that, had there not been time tonight, I could come back tomorrow...there would be 3 opportunities. One requiring me to get up much earlier, another requiring me to go to work later, and one requiring me to leave EVEN EARLIER from work in order to get there on time.

I have no right to complain. My desperation doesn't COMPARE with that of Catholics all over the world.

I'm a spoiled brat.

It was a lesson in humility, in remembering the great gift that we have in this country. Even in realizing that in my metro area there are many parishes that have Confession times maybe only once per week, and only for a half hour.

But there was another lesson for me, one that reminded me of something I learned in class a year ago; and that was the lesson learned from the woman with the hemorrhage.

She had been bleeding for 12 YEARS! She was considered to be "impure" because of it. She was shunned, and she was probably very sick and weak. She'd sought cures for those long twelve years, to no avail. The woman was truly desperate. So when Jesus walked by, as the crowds pressed around Him, she sought Him out, maybe even crawling, for the scriptures say she touched the corner of his cloak. It may even have been the tassel of his prayer shawl that would have hung low to the ground, and the part of him that was most "impure" of what He would have worn as a Jew, for it would be close to the ground and dirty. She would not have wanted to cause impurity to Jesus...but she knew she needed Him in order to be healed.

Imagine the ground-level view, as she reached out towards Jesus as He passed her by. Imagine how desperate she was, how weak, how lonely. How outcast.

And how faithful! Consider how she did not want to render Jesus impure because of her own state...she sought only to be healed of her condition, so touched that which was on Him, and was the least "pure" according to the Law.

She touched the tassel...and in that instant, was healed. Jesus stopped and called out, and she came forward, fearful, expecting rebuke, but telling Him everything. Her shame became God's glory...her shame still impacts us over 2,000 years later.

And we see the mercy of Jesus through the desperation of an unknown woman. She gives us the example of the desperation we should ALL have when we receive ANY of the Sacraments, but in our American culture of plenty, even the Sacraments are plentiful. Yet our desperation is lacking.

Ever since that lesson, I've tried to consider, each time I receive Holy Communion, to consider the desperation of that woman, trying to realize what I am doing, Who I am receiving...and if I'm not "desperate" enough, I simply don't realize my wretched condition especially in comparison to the reality of the God who is about to enter under my roof.

Tonight, although I did not attend Mass, I was granted at least a small sense of desperation, truly fearful I would be denied the mercy I needed. And although I usually go behind the screen, I decided that even if I was walking in as Father was leaving, and he saw and recognized me (and I know he would return to the confessional as I was last in line), I would have made my Confession face to face. Because I was that desperate...I didn't care if I was "known in my sin." I needed the Grace of the Sacrament, I needed to meet Jesus face-to-face and touch the tassel on his cloak.

It is desperation that humbles us and makes us realize who we really are and why we need God. It is in our lowest moments that we can most clearly see His face. And it is only when we have hit that point that Jesus can reach down to where we crouch in the dirt and lift us up so He can embrace us.

Tonight was a beautiful lesson for me, one I hope to remember, not only so that I can recall the sense of desperation, but also so as to remember God's incredible Mercy...He did not send me away to suffer any longer.

He let me touch the tassel of his cloak, just as He was passing by.

We should all remember that when we approach Our Lord, we are the woman in the dirt, we are bleeding, we are humiliated...and we all need him as desperately as she did.
*

You Know You're a Catholic

I've begun noticing little things, and this is just the latest:

You know that you're a Catholic when you start to break up the year not according to semesters or trimesters or quarters, or even spring, summer, fall and winter.

Instead, you define and plan your life according to the liturgical seasons...Advent, Lent, Easter, and Ordinary time.

I'm just sayin'.

A Quiet Moment...with Adoro

An oxymoron, I know. Deal with it. You read me. Some of you actually know me in person. Would you expect anything else?

So...first up...

HIDING THE FAITH

Do you have "liberal" or "modernist" friends? Or non-Catholic friends or co-workers? When they come to your office (if a co-worker) or to your home, are you tempted to hide some of your more obvious items that point towards your embrace of Catholicism, in order to avoid "offending" this strange person? If so...is this person more important than God to you? Are you ashamed of your heritage?

What's WRONG with you?

If you're Catholic, and you embrace our faith, then EMBRACE it! People throughout the centuries have DIED for what you love...and you're willing to put it in a closet in order to avoid "offending" someone you may not even know in a year's time? Or fear this person may reject you or your positions because you believe in Petrine Primacy as established by Christ our Savior, and you believe in the Virgin Birth and that the Bible reveals both the Christ of history AND the Christ of Faith???? Quit being such a wuss! If you claim to be Catholic....LIVE IT! Live it to the degree that you're willing to DIE for it as did your ancestors in the Faith!

Moving on..

CRITTERS

I don't know what is is with nature lately. Just yesterday when I was yacking with a co-worker in the hallway at work (a church), a bat meandered (and by that I mean...dive-bombed) through the hallway in the middle of the afternoon. Apparently he had insomnia. And he wasn't a fan of the open fire doors, so flew towards the school then doubled back a couple times, swooping at our heads.

I let out my own "WOOP!" as I jammed the key into the lock of our office door, which I'd inadvertantly forgotten to leave open. With great regret. Ironically, I'd read an article yesterday, the day of the event, about the preponderance of bats in August, and the need, in any actual contact, to be tested for rabies. Not desiring to be tested for rabies or jammed with multiple needles, I knelt on the floor as I fumbled with the lock, laughing hysterically as I remembered my last "bat hunt" when I was working security at a University. That, incidentally, was followed by yelling directions at a confused squirrel that had wandered into Heffron Hall....

And today...a nasty spider made an appearance on my desk as I was eating my luncheon salad. It was black and had two racing stripes down either side of its body, and it was really FAST! I tried to kill it with a bad magazine featuring bad vestments on the cover (a good use for the magazine, actually), but that little thing went under the desk. No WAY was I going to sit down, so I peered underneath, trying to see the spider so I could smash it into oblivion.

It was teasing me. It appeared...and disappeared, over and over again. I was peering underneath again, and the thing crawled on the edge, near my forehead, causing me to screech (for about the 3rd time), a completely involuntary reaction, as my boss the DRE yelled at me to kill the darned thing already. And she was talking to the head Custodian, who must certainly have been doubled-over laughing at the noises I was making.

Well, they don't realize that the spider disappeared SO FAST that I thought it might well have transferred itself in a single bound onto my head...and the idea made me want to prefer to die than suffer that!

But I saw it and I smashed it and instantly felt better for having committed the murder most foul. Or justified....I vote for justified. That spider TOYED with me!

And then so did my co-workers. My DRE, the boss, suggested that I can expect at some point in the future to have a remote-controlled spider dangle over my head attached to a fishing line,while I work unsuspectingly and in tranquility at my desk or somewhere else.

I assured her I'd quit with no notice should such threat take place. I think she was kidding.

I wasn't.

GOOD THINGS HAPPEN, TOO

So, after all that trauma, a cool thing also happened today. A local Hawthorne Dominican recently came to speak for us, and she did a wonderful job, and she and I somehow spoke about books and Padre Pio and other things. (Dominicans are SO COOL!!) Well, she was going to send me a book.

Today I received a package, and found not that book but a St. Dominic card with a message from her explaining the book that she DID find...one called "Quiet Moments with Padre Pio."

What an incredible book! It's filled with short meditations, things that he said or things stated about him from those who were close to him. And all that I read today is relevant to me...this book is a true gift, not just from Sister, but from Padre Pio as well.

I leave you with the blessed and profound words of the Saint himself:

SAFE IN THE DIVINE ARMS:

- April 23, 1918 letter to Erminia Gargani

Do not anticipate the problems of this life with the apprehension, but rather with a perfect hope that God, to whom you belong, will free you from them
accordingly. He has defended you up to now. Simply hold on tightly to the hand of his divine prividence and he will help you in all events, and when you are unable to walk, he will lead you.

Why should you fear when you belong to this God who strongly assured us: "We know that in everything God works for the good with those who love him"? Don't think about tomorrow's events, because the same Heavenly Father who takes care of you today will do the same tomorrow and forever.

Live tranquilly, [removing] from your imagination that which upsets you and often say to our Lord: Oh God, you are my God and I will trust in you. You will assist me and be my refuge, and I will fear nothing because not only are you with him, but you are in him and he is within you. What can a child fear in the arms of its father?

*
Incredible, how he can speak so profoundly to me through such a random event and person. I'm constantly amazed at how this simple Franciscan chooses to speak to me through Dominican and other messengers, answering my latest concerns, my latest prayers, and my truest desires.

God is good. God desires our good. And when we are desperate to hear His voice...he speaks, but never as we expect.

CALLING FOR READER PARTICIPATION!

I've done a little research and did find a Catholic book Meme, but I wasn't satisfied as I felt that there were many books that should be listed but aren't.

So...I've started my own. Although I know I haven't read every Catholic book out there, not even 100 of them, I think maybe some of you would have book recommendations. What are the top 100 Catholic books? I'm looking for both contemporary spiritual books as well as contemporary fiction, to go along with the classic books I'll have listed such a St. Francis de Sales and the like. At this point my goal is to turn this into a sort of Meme, but who knows? Maybe it'll be a stand-alone post of good Catholic book recommendations.

So....everyone...suggestions? What makes the cut for the top 100 Catholic books? Go through your home libraries, look at your dog-eared tomes, and consider your Amazon wish list. Maybe it's a book you haven't read but have heard great things about? Maybe it's a reference resource? Maybe a Flannery O'Connor novel?

I need help with this list....send me your favorite books, and even if you see that someone has listed your title already, list it again. That'll tell me it's important!

The combox awaits....
*

100 Book Meme

I stole this from Transcendental Musings, a Meme I've avoided because I think I'm going to be embarassed. But since I'm working on humility, well...maybe this is a good day to do it.

Basically, the idea is to bold the books you've read and highlight the books you'd like to read. And per my usual style...commentary will accompany some of the selections.

1.Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen - I'm neutral on this one. It's a classic I've never read but I think I can live my life without reading it.
2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien - But I saw the movies!
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee - I LOVE THIS BOOK! Read it on my own and then had to read it in a class in High School...and have read it again several times since.
6. The Bible – maybe not all, but at least MOST! I do think I've read the entire thing by now, though.
7. Wuthering Heights - mostly neutral on this one, but think I should read it "just because"
8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials - Phillip Pullman - I have no need to read transparent atheist anti-Catholic propaganda.
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12. Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy – I saw parts of this made into a movie...was bored. Can't imagine how boring the book must be!
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller I read this but can't remember anything about it.
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare - I've read many of his works, so bolding, but would desire to read them all.
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier – I think I read this...I'm not sure!
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien – I read this in college, and had a hard time getting through it. It was a good story, but the style seemed somewhat dry to me...it's the reason I haven't tackled Lord of the Rings.
17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19. The Time Traveller's Wife -
20. Middlemarch - George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald - Saw the movie in High school...hated it. No desire whatsoever to read the book.
23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25. The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll –
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis - read all, once as a child, once as an adult.
34. Emma - Jane Austen
35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
36. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
37. Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres –
.38. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
39. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
40. Animal Farm - George Orwell
41. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown - I tried. But he is such a hack I couldn't even get out the door of the store with it. I prefer to read edifying things or at the very least, something that contributes to honest imagination.
42. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
43. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
44. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins -
45. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery - The whole series....a few times!
46. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
47. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood - I've seen excerpts of this one due to a local controversy...and have to say that it's a pornographic book thus I have NO INTEREST in reading it.
48. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
49. Atonement - Ian McEwan –
50. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
51. Dune - Frank Herbert
52. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
53. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
54. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
55. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
56. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens - have read it a couple times
57. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley - we're living this one.
58. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
59. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
60. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
61. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
62. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
63. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
64. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
65. On The Road - Jack Kerouac -
66. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
67. Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding
68. Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
69. Moby Dick - Herman Melville - Read it, wasn't a fan.
70. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
71. Dracula - Bram Stoker
72. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett - one of my favorite books growing up, was given to me by my Dad, which makes it more special.
73. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson\
74. Ulysses - James Joyce
75. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
76. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
77. Germinal - Emile Zola
78. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
79. Possession - AS Byatt
80. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
81. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
82. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
83. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
84. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
85. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
86. Charlotte's Web - EB White - over and over again and I cry EVERY TIME!
87. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom - lotta hype on this one...I wasn't impressed.
88. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
89. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
90. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
91. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery -
92. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
93. Watership Down - Richard Adams
94. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
95. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
96. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
97. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
98. Les Miserables - Victor Hugo -
9. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain
100.The Outsiders

I have to wonder at the absence of GK Chesterton and some other authors. Is there a list of 100 CATHOLIC books out there? Or general Christianity? That would be an interesting Meme...must research. If none exists...maybe must create!

Mothers!

I still remember the hot summer afternoon in Alexandria, Minnesota back in 1995. My Mom had called on a Saturday afternoon, and after an extremely frustrating conversation, the content of which I can't even remember, I hung up the phone and screamed, "Aaaaarrrrrgggh!"

My roommate looked up from whatever work she was doing at the time, and glancing at my expression of consternation, commented, "I don't know a SINGLE WOMAN who doesn't do THAT every time they talk to their mothers!"

It was nice to know I wasn't alone.

And I've found that...over time...it doesn't change.

But instead of screaming, I just sigh. I sit through conversations with my earthly mother while gazing at an image of our Blessed Mother and I take deep breaths and try to work on the virtue of patience.

And I know that so many of us have the SAME conversations with our mothers. I could probably talk to YOUR mother and the content would be the same.

First, Mom tells me that she's been to the Fair, and gives me the full menu of what she's eaten throughout the day, any interactions with various medications, and how the food, if it didn't interact with medications, how she did or didn't approve of it and why. And how many days she's going to suffer for having eaten it in the first place. (I will get this same info and the FULL report, probably on Tuesday this week.)

Then I get the run-down on how she overextended herself because she's only used to a 30-minute walk that the doctor says she has to take each day, but today it was 2 hours so she's got to write that in her journal and report it to him.

And then she discusses her difficult work schedule of 20 hours per week, which fluctuates by about an hour or so a couple of those days, and how HARD that is to go into work at 10 instead of 9, an get off at 2 instead of 1.

But that's not all!

In the past, Mom was contented, after her menu of the last few weeks (even though I'd already gotten the full review a few times), to give me a full report on her health with all the gorey details.

But now...Mom has a friend. So, after Mom's report, I get her friend's report, too. And all the details and Mom's diagnosis and full advice given to the woman. Along with her menu, too. Seriously..I got to hear alll about how the woman likes to eat radishes before she goes to Mass on Saturday, and how the radishes made her smell like onions during Mass (don't ask, you don't want to know), and Mom's "fraternal correction" of the incident. I also now know all about her friend's sleeping schedule, her Insomnia, and her addiction to caffeine and no-doz, and I think I have here a list of her medications in case of an emergency. Because God knows the medics would call the daughter of a neighbor if the woman in question had a medical emergency.

* sigh *

Nope, I don't scream anymore when I hang up the phone after talking to Mom. I just sigh and try to forget everything I've just heard, because I simply don't want to know that much about her neighbors. It just doesn't seem right. In fact, there's stuff I don't want to know about Mom's personal life, either, and I wish I didn't.

YOU know what I mean.

AND STOP LAUGHING! Even though it's true, it's not funny!

* sigh *

Why is it that when our parents get older, we find we need actual recovery times and even debriefing from the trauma of talking to them?

Please don't get me wrong. I love my mother. She is and always was an incredible woman, and may even be a living Saint. Like all mothers and daughters, we have had our difficulties, exacerbated by Mom's bipolar through my teenage years, and my having to be an adult at too young an age as a result. So there are struggles there that don't belong to a normal mother-daughter relationship. Yet there are moments that match EXACTLY what other women I know deal with, and tonight's conversation with Mom was just such a moment.

And as much as these conversations drive me crazy, I think a part of me will always cherish them, for I don't think Mom is long for this world. We nearly lost her last December, and I think it's just a matter of time. She looks old beyond her years, thanks to her illness, her resulting medical conditions...and the medications that have given her the ability to live on her own in a relatively normal, if isolated, life.

God bless her. If that woman can raise a child like me, well...she deserves better than me. She deserves Sainthood.

Please keep my Mom and our family in your prayers.
*

Can't You See the Blood Dripping from the Flag of China?

I wasn't going to post this, and maybe it's a post that will be taken down. In all likelihood, if my URL is not yet banned in China, it will be after tonight.

It's completely INSANE that China was allowed to host the Olympics. Given the well-known human-rights violations in SO many areas, given the well-known oppression of their people...HOW, in good conscience, can the OIC POSSIBLY have awarded this honor to one of the WORST and most immoral countries on the planet?

In 1982, one of my cousins was bound for the Olympics, and as I understand it, her name was a big one; EVERYONE knew she'd be going. She was a diver, and the day before Trials, she suffered an unfortunate landing in training, and the resulting broken bone broke her chance for the Gold...and her heart. She couldn't face four more years of the same regimen of training only to come so close and meet the same disappointment. She chose to move on with her life.

I remember clearly watching the 1982 Summer Olympics, watching my cousin's sport, completely awed by the athletes, and I announced that day to my parents that one day, I'd be an Olympian, too. Because SOMEONE had to be. Why not me?

Well, I have resigned myself to the fact that this will never happen, yet in my years of adulthood I DID achieve a certain elite training and have come, through that, to appreciate the amazing sacrifices and dedication of Olympians. I've also become a person of faith, which affects me not only spiritually, but socially as I cannot look at the world we live in and remain aloof.

Let's just cut to the chase:

When I see the Chinese flag, I see the blood of the Chinese People.

The flag that welcomes the athletes, the dignitaries, and the visitors is red for a reason, and EVERY time each of us looks at it, we must remember the people of China in their subjugation to the oppressive and deranged communist leaders who deny not only their dignity, but their very basic human rights...even their lives.

A long time ago, an important leadership concept came to my attention; never ask anyone to do what you would refuse to do or could not do. To do so is hypocrasy. But the idea goes beyond leadership and into everyday life and colors our decisions and opinions.

Taking into consideration my cousin's great disappointment and my own forays into serious athletic training in the past (not Olympic-bound - not the same goal), I took an objective look at the Olympics in China. Sure, I could look at it ideologically, even positively. But in the end, I've had to concede that this event does more for the current Chinese Regime than it does for the beautiful Chinese people.

There's a lot of ideology out there; you have a lot of people, even good Catholic authors using the tired argument that "the Olympics doesn't HAVE to be political...."

Well, right. I agree. It doesn't HAVE to be...but the fact that politicization isn't required doesn't change the reality that it IS and REMAINS a political event.
We cannot use the idea that "The Olympics don't have to be political." It's a strawman argument and it can go up in the same flames a match applied to a scarecrow would generate. We live in the real world and we have to see it as such, not as the fantasy world of "what we'd prefer it to be." We can't react to fantasy; we can ONLY deal with what's happening before our very eyes, and if we don't accept it, we can't encourage change.

China isn't doing this for the goodness of her people. China isn't hosting the Olympics for a financial boom. They aren't doing it out of "goodwill", for the latter has to arise out of a true desire to do good...and the objective documentation on human rights failings on the part of China leaves "goodwill" out of the equation.

The people of China deserve something good...so why are they suffering in the shadows of the Olympic stadiums?

Because the Olympics aren't about them. They are about China's use of what Nazi Germany used when they hosted the Olympics, while, in the meantime, they slaughtered thousands of people in death camps.

Yet, their hosting of the Olympics gave them a positive spin in the world, and people were willing to overlook what was REALLY happening because, well, Hitler had such a pretty face when his country hosted the Olympics...he couldn't be THAT bad, could he?

I can think of thousands upon thousands of souls, some still living, who would disagree.

The Nazi Olympics are happening again, folks. And sure, the Chinese government, just like Nazi Germany, is putting on a pretty face. Just recently a man from Minnesota, a prominent and beloved local businessman, was murdered in China by a random deranged killer. And the Chinese government, reportedly, has been just wonderful to his wife who was also severely injured. The government has been incredibly helpful to the family and is providing the best medical treatment available. And that's good..that's exactly what they SHOULD do.

But they won't do this for their own people. And I doubt, if they were there as tourists and not for the Olympics, that we'd be seeing this face of the government; they likely wouldn't take personal interest at all, and we wouldn't expect them to do so. Things happen to people who visit America, and our government doesn't "adopt" them and issue press releases, do they? It would be a full-time job and a news channel would have to be dedicated to all the events.

So, this event alone seems to point to the fact that the Chinese government is over-extending itself in an attempt to "prove" how good and benevolent it is.

ON THE ATHLETES

I don't fault the athletes for competing or for being there. They worked hard to be there, and this is a dream of a lifetime. Congratulations to all, and God bless them. They are living history and will forever look back on these events, but I fear that what China is and will become after this event will also forever taint their memories when they come to realize what was happening in the country that hosted them.

Much like being hosted by a mass murderer and being sent away unscathed. Survivor's guilt.

In musing about this, I tried to, using my experience and knowledge gained from memories of my cousin, place myself in the shoes of an olympic athlete. I've written fiction about being in that very place, but now I change the idea; what if the event was...China?

Knowing what I know, knowing about the underground Catholic Church, knowing that women are forced to have abortions due to the one-child limit legislated by the Chinese government, knowing that they recently killed a Bishop...I'd have to weigh it. Getting to the Olympics is a once-in-a-lifetime event that happens only to the fewest, and the best of the fewest.

To be counted in that number...wow. Humbling. Amazing. Not something to discount. You can ONLY get there by putting your heart and soul into it.

But knowing all that I know...I honestly believe I would turn it down. I would walk away and ask other athletes to do the same. Not without tears, not without a struggle for I would know what I was giving up. But I would also realize that if I competed, I'd be competing upon soil bloodied by my own Christian brothers and sisters, and through my willingness to participate, I'd be legitimizing the government's actions against them.

Thus, my actions would be a betrayal against my own people. And I, as a Catholic, claim the Chinese as my brothers and sisters in Christ.

If they are being slaughtered, I have no business being friendly with their murderers. The ONLY thing to do is to walk away and use my position as an athlete to make a very public stand and declare a very public condmenation against the Chinese government.

BOYCOTT

I have not watched the Olympics. A couple times I have briefly had the channel on, although the event wasn't one I care about, yet I still feel guilty even for that. I have watched the medal count, and I'm glad when America does well. And it is KILLING me to realize I won't be able to watch the equestrienne or swimming or gymnastics or track competetions. Because, if I say I wouldn't be willing to compete...then I can at least make the sacrifice of not watching those who do. Even though it has no financial impact upon anyone.

I can't watch the Olympics this year. At all. Because, through this post especially, I am saying that the venue is immoral, thus, so is our participation.

Watching is participation.

I wish the athletes of all nations well, and I pray good comes out of this event. But I can't give acquiescence to it because the host is the next thing to Satan Incarnate, and I certainly don't think that the Olympics should be held in Hell next time around.

Speak to Chinese Catholics and other Chinese Christians...they'll tell you that this year, the Olympics ARE being held in Hell.

And every time you look at the Chinese flag, take a really good look...because, if you were born under it, it could be your blood dripping upon the athletes that now tread on your grave or the graves of your unborn.
*

Last Liberty

This is my last free weekend until sometime in Advent.

Not only has work started up again full time (thank God! The financial crunch from this summer is going to be making waves over the next 10 months!), but classes start up again next Friday. The brutal marathon weekends are coming again....BRING IT ON!

I love what we're learning in class, and today I verified they received everything including the loan documentation. I only had to order two books this semester as I have the same prof for Old Testament II as I did for OT I, and one of the profs cancelled his selection as it went out of print so the price, even used, went up nearly 500%. Literally.

This semester will consist in 6 credits of Christian Anthropology, Spiritual Theology, and Old Testament II - Prophets. Thus, by the end of this semester not only will we be good buddies with the OT Prophets, but we'll be quoting the Summa, and...well, maybe we'll be more spiritual.

Oh...and I just realized that I overlooked a required book - hope it's available online!

While I'm looking forward to beginning studies again, starting the second leg of this three-year journey towards my MTS, well, I wish I didn't have to complete this grad program in a job that uses what I'm learning...and yet prevents me from learning it. My current job is wrought with irregular hours, weekend hours, and I'm a very routine-oriented person. When my daily routine goes, I lose EVERYTHING. And while I'm tempted to say, "Well, I could be more effective and could do this if I had better working hours", I can't truly make that complaint. It would be akin to St. Paul's complaint about the "thorn in his side", which he realized God had given him as a particular suffering he MUST endure for the sake of the Kingdom. And if St. Paul can't complain, nor can I.

So it goes. I have errands to run this weekend, business to complete, things to put in order as I won't be able to run errands next weekend. But I'm looking forward to seeing my friends again and sitting at the feet of great theologians, secure in the knowledge that God won't waste a single moment of this. It all has a purpose, and the agony makes that purpose even more powerful.

And just an observation....where IS everyone this week? The blog traffic has been...almost non-existant! I must be getting boring.

Well, maybe the start of a new semester will provide fodder for better and more engaging posts.
*

There's No Crying in BASEBALL!

One of the Best. Lines. Ever.

From one of the BEST. MOVIES. EVER.

Hands down.

The first time I watched this movie, I was bored and just looking for something new, and had seen portions of it here and there on TV, which prompted me to finally pull it out of my roommate's DVD library and watch it.

I was enthralled. I love this movie. And for a long time I had cable so every so often I watched it, but for months now I've been deprived of cable services since I can't afford the fun stuff like TBS. So while I was at Amazon.com recently ordering my books for my upcoming semester, I also looked up DVD's and purchased "A League of Their Own" for the awesome price of $3.95. I'm not sure there will be anything left of this DVD when I'm done with it!

My Confession...

I've never really been a fan of baseball, and that's one of the reasons I delayed so long in watching this movie to begin with. When I was a kid I HATED softball with a passion, and every other sport. This was likely because I couldn't SEE..I had an astigmatysm and even in the classroom teachers couldn't understand why I wasn't grasping the material. I didn't realize that I couldn't see like the other kids could. I didn't realize that I sucked at sports because I literally couldn't see the ball coming at me and I couldn't observe the plays of any given sport, so when a ball or a puck came to me, I had no idea what to do. (Incidentally, for some really odd reason, I was REALLY GOOD at soccer and Field Hockey in spite of my vision problems...but never got the opportunity to play them when I got out of elementary school.)

But I digress...basically, the point is, I've never been a huge fan of Baseball. I've gone to games in person on occasion, and ALWAYS enjoyed the experience. I remember when the Minnesota Twins won the World Series in 1987; I was in Jr. High, and in the classes like Drafting, where we had "work time", the teachers let us watch the afternoon games as long as we also continued to work on our projects. It was then that I maybe had the first enthusiasm for Baseball. And let's face it; this is a uniquely American sport, with a unique place in American history. I still remember sitting with my Great Aunt Rose in her livingroom, watching the Twins Games on her little livingroom TV. She was a HUGE fan, and I'm guessing she'd remember the Women in Baseball portrayed in the movie I watched tonight and I only regret that I didn't even, at the time, know that women HAD a history in Baseball.

Themes
The themes woven throughout this movie make it a timeless classic. Themes of sisterhood, of family, of feminism (both the good and the bad) and chauvenism are woven masterfully and theatrically throughout the story, painting a very believable picture with a mixture of fact and fiction to keep us all hopping, inspiring us to learn more, and...might I say....to BE more?

The movie opens with the ongoing rivalry between the farm sisters, Dottie and Kit, both incredibly talented in Baseball, both responsible in their work on the farm. And even in their rivalry, the love and connection they have to each other is nearly palpable.

Then we see the theme of selfishness versus sacrifice, which switches throughout the movie to the people and the situations, revealing the depth of the characters as well as the human capacity to overcome their own personal failings. In the beginnig, Dotty refuses the offer to come to Chicago to try out, but at the ultimatum given to Kit, "If your sister comes, you can come too", along with Kit's desperation to finally come out from under her sister's shadow, Dotty realizes that her life, although already chosen, isn't hers alone, either. She sacrifices what she truly desires in order that her kid sister can reach her own potential.

That's love.

Yet when they witness injustice, a rejection of an incredible yet not-so-attractive woman, BOTH Kit and Dotty refuse to continue on the train towards their destiny. They both recognize talent and aren't willing to let the world's standards of "beauty" reject the calling of even a potential competitor. And so it was that Marla Hooch joined them. (And for the record...I NEVER thought she was ugly, and the way she was treated in the movie by "officials" really ticked me off! But wasn't she a beauty as an elderly woman?)

FEMINISM

This movie took place just past the peak of true Feminism. It seems to me, without researching the timeline and actual facts, that WWII marked a Golden Age of Feminsim, wherin the gifts of woman were recognized beyond the "barefoot and pregnant" category, where women literally stepped up to the plate and saved our economy, built our weapons, and even provided our timeless form of national entertainment in the form of women's sports. And un-heard-of event. Women literally saved America. U-RAH!

The event brought out the same weird extremes we see today; with the pre-programmed and prim prude who continues to suggest that women must remain in a niche that had oppressed them for so long, to the chauvenism that fought to "elevate" the women as sex objects, even using the idea of "charm school" to give the impression of "lady-ness" so as to better exploit their "wares" on the National, or even Intenational stage.

Even racism makes an appearance, and we are made to realize that women of color were not allowed into the League, to the very detriment of the Game. The dignity and proud humility (the only time those two words can EVER come together) of the black woman who pitches an out-of-bounds ball to Dottie says far more than any rhetoic can ever accomplish. I have to say that this, for me, was one of the most heartbreaking scenes.

The movie takes place in the time of War, when the men of America enlisted in DROVES to fight Hitler, which is what allowed this entire sports event to happen. Yet, in the Roadhouse scene, populated by the vixen-like girls of the Rockford Peaches, I, for one, have to ask...from whence did come all the smitten gentlemen that had aforeto encroached upon the locale of that venue?

They seemed mostly healthy and intelligent to me...what had kept these men home to woo the vixens, as opposed to going off to defend freedom for the world? Could they really be the cream of the crop?

But I digress. Hollywood always has a stash of their own "objects" to fit any movie scene. Poor things.

The war theme comes to bear, having been built up among the women of the Rockford Peaches, especially those who were married. When a telegram comes, the agony is nearly palpable, and in this day and age, I think we might feel it all the more. This scene NEVER fails to make me cry; it's too real. It's too direct.

It's too "now."

And yet, we still see the theme of selfishness, even with Dotty, our heroine. She was the great talent who had, throughout the movie, saved the day morally, personally, and through her coaching for the team when Jimmy Dugan was far too schnockered to be bothered to stop scratching himself *ahem* long enough to bother doing his job.

But then Dotty's husband arrives, wounded, and even though her team is heading to the World Series, her detachment is so great that she leaves the team. At their most dire hour, she walks away. It's understandable, given the situation (husband back from war), but there didn't even seem to be a struggle; she got what she wanted, and who cares about anyone else?

It brings us to consider, no matter what we want, even if life throws our desires our way, are we really free to forget that others need us, too?

But there is redemption; for Dotty, for the alcohol-soaked Dugan, for Kit, who steals the show.

And in the end, we are left with nostalgia, a sense of what has been, maybe what should still be, of friendships that never ended and lives that had come to a close. It is a bittersweet finale that reminds us that life is temporary, and even in the shining moments, they become only snapshots in black-and-white, sepia tones at best, and it is our memories that add the color.

Maybe this is for another post, but I can't help but observe that what original feminism intended has failed. This movie alludes to the new "liberality" of sexuality that carried on in their baby-boomer children that are still wreaking havoc in the Church and our society. And while all the worst has happened, the beauty of the Golden Age has not continued. We don't have Women's Professional Baseball, and if we did, no one would go. When I was in college, a Women's Hockey League started, but while I was in Mexico. If I could have afforded the equipment and if I'd been there at the time of formation, I would have been on the team. But there have been no opportunities since then, and Women's Hockey STILL isn't major league.

Women's Basketball might be the biggest thing, and even that doesn't have NEARLY the prestige of other of men's sports.

I would suggest that if Feminism were to get over their vagina-gazing (not-so-veiled reference to the gross Vagina Monologues), and over their obsession with the so-called "sexual revolution" that has done nothing more than cripple women and kill babies, well, maybe they could focus on the things that mattered to the women who started the Movement to begin with. The foundresses, the women are rolling in their graves at what has happened with the idea that they originally advanced; that women have dignity. That women are more than just cooks and housekeepers. That women have gifts and talents that can contribute to and even BUILD society.

Instead, we've gotten...a culture of death. A far cry from the freedom and dignity we see in the movie.

You see, I can do rhetoric, too.

But it's time to bring this long post to a close. And I'll do it in a fun way. For those who know this movie...do you find yourself categorizing your friends? Yourself?

I can tell you right now...I'm Kit. I've never had her moment of fame, but I'm her, in all her best and especially worst moments. I have her fiery temper, I've been overlooked for the shadow of another, and I've had her passion. I've even spent time blaming others for things that weren't their fault. And like Kit, as much anger as I've had towards the important people in my life, I've loved them even more and recognized their contributions to who and what I am. But I gotta say...I'm Kit.

Maybe one day I should write a version of this movie and cast my friends...

Oh, I SO can't wait to see this!

Today I learned about a 7-minute short that made its debut at World Youth Day this year. The video is unfortunately not yet available, but the gallery photos from the project are a wonderful tool for marketing.

I'll admit it. I'm drooling. I can't WAIT to see this!

The short film, "Women of Mystery, Women of Hope" highlights the lifestyles of three religious communities as they go about their daily lives. Mass, Prayer, Apostolate....and fun. Yup. You might not realize it, but REAL Sisters aren't angry and bitter feminist holdovers from the 60's, but are real, LIVE, joyful women who have devoted their lives to Christ and radiate this love to the world in all that they do and in all that they are.

Although it doesn't seem that this is a Vocations video, I have to say that FINALLY, women who are discerning have an answer to the powerful DVD "Fishers of Men."

And for now, that's all I have to say about that.

Sadness isn't a bad thing

Last week I posted that for some reason, I was just...sad. I didn't know why, and that general sadness has continued, ebbing and flowing over the last week. I've had many joyful moments, I've had many joyful events, and truly, I have no right to complain about anything.

Even a friend of mine noticed that something wasn't right, and I was amazed. I looked over the emails we'd exchanged, and I just didn't "see" what he was reading in them. But then again, sometimes friends can see what we can't.

And I have to admit...I AM still sad, although I've been able to identify some of the cause. It's not something I'm willing to share on the blog. But I have taken it to prayer and I'm trying to let God speak to me about this. Maybe the time will come to talk about it, but not here.

And don't worry...it's nothing criminal or awful. Just life.

There are a lot of things weighing on me right now, but I'm constantly amazed at how even when we don't "feel" like God is close, He reveals himself in small, loving ways.

Tonight I'm at work, waiting for a program to finish so I can lock up the building and go home. One of the benefits of working in a Church is access to the church and the chapel, and I often love to spend time with Jesus as he rests hidden in the Tabernacle. I don't know why, but I've had some truly profound experiences when He is not exposed in the monstrance. Maybe it's the privacy, as no one else is generally around. Or maybe it's just that I'm more open, somehow. But I know that Jesus is present, and it's enough.

I had turned on a few of the lights, and sat down to pray Evening Prayer just as a thunderstorm arrived overhead. Then, from the back of the church, I heard a door open, and a man poked his head in, then quietly moved through the church and knelt down near the votives to pray. I returned to my own prayer, and, upon finishing, sighed and took my leave of Our Lord. Just as I passed a pew behind me, I saw a little piece of paper. Leaning in closer, I saw that it was a prayer, so I turned it over to reveal an image of the Infant of Prague.

This particular image and devotion has continued to appear here and there in my life for a couple years now, and it's something I was introduced to many years ago. But tonight, especially, I was stopped and knelt down again, right on the floor where I stood, facing the tabernacle once again, as I said this perfect prayer to the Infant of Prague.

Jesus knows what weighs us down and sometimes literally gives us the words to pray when we can't seem to find them for ourselves. Maybe our friends can see that something is wrong with us, but God...He sees all. He sees the secrets we hide and can't speak to another. And He comes to us in those moments of solitude to teach us HOW to pray, and to reveal that He knows our pain so that we won't think we suffer alone.

Yes, I'm still sad. But it's nothing to worry about; part of life involves being sad, and sometimes it's a proper response. Sometimes it's what we need, for when we suffer we find that God waiting for us and welcomes our questions and our prayers. Or even our silence in His presence.

Tonight, God blessed me both with a little love-note in the form of a prayer I couldn't compose on my own, and then gave me an opportunity for evangelization.

At the end of my prayer, I left the church and so did the man who had entered. We crossed paths in the hallway, and he asked if the Adoration Chapel was closed? I explained where it was, thinking maybe he was visiting the parish and looking for it. As it turned out, he was only curious; he'd seen me near the tabernacle praying, so wondered why, and he apologized for his question, not wanting to intrude. I was happy to answer, though: I was praying in the church because Jesus is just as present in the tabernacle as He is in the Adoration Chapel.

And any time I can make that point with someone, it's a joyful occasion.

God just loves making connections...little ones for us to give us strength, and public ones for others, to help lead them closer to Him.

So, as you can tell, even if I'm a bit...melancholy...these couple weeks, I'm in a good place, one where God is present in spite of me.

Flesh of My Flesh, Blood of My Blood

We pray John's Gospel each day if we pray the Angelus at 6 am, noon, and 6 pm.
"And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us."

Have we ever TRULY contemplated those holy words? This great mystery of the Incarnation?

We should often contemplate Jesus on the Cross, for He gave His flesh on our behalf...and continues to offer us His flesh and blood through Holy Communion. As Christians, we always look to Jesus, we always look to the Incarnation and we know that He died to ransom us.

I have a huge devotion to Our Mother of Perpetual Help. Her Icon graces my home both upstairs in my room and downstairs, greeting all who enter my home. I keep her image on a keychain. Thus, as long as I have her image before me, I have the entire Gospel of salvation no matter where life takes me.

Tonight, I was gazing upon the Icon of Our Mother of Perpetual Help, considering all she has done to bring me closer to Jesus, and in so doing, I realized that I cannot gaze upon her without seeing Jesus. I cannot look at Mary without seeing our Savior, for our Lord wears her flesh and shed her blood.

Think about it. When you look at children, who do you see? You see the child, yes. But you ALSO see the parents. You see one parent, then both. You see the features of BOTH. You see that this child has his father's eyes, and this girl has her mother's cupid's-bow mouth. They have the ski-jump nose attributed to the family genetics, and the curly locks belonging to a particular geneology of the family bloodline. No child is created in a vacuum.

Nor was Jesus.

When God became Incarnate through the flesh of humanity, He took on the genetic structure and adopted all that belonged to His Mother. God had never before appeared to us in the flesh; it was Jesus who enabled us to look upon God through His Son Incarnate. Thus, when we look upon Jesus, we see His Mother, for it was she who contributed to His ethnicity as a Jew, His eyes, His hair color, His skin color, His physical bone structure (as in facial features, etc.), and His blood type. The same blood that was shed for us. All of His humanity came to us through His Mother alone.
Jesus was not a human being divorced from human genetics; although He is the Son of God, He took on his flesh from His Mother, and so when we see images of Him on the Cross, we must ALSO remember the Mother He chose, who willingly dedicated her very flesh and bone so that the Son of God might dwell among us and save us from our sins. And we must see that in the features of Jesus, we find His Mother, and in the features of Mary, we are pointed towards Our Lord and Savior.

I do not mean to indicate that Jesus was a clone of Mary; I mean only to point to her obvious contribution to His humanity, just as all parents contribute to the features of their children.

There are those who dismiss the Mother of God, Theotokos, as being "just some woman", which seems to relegate her to the level of a whore. They dismiss Mary as unimportant, and yet, claim to know Christ. I fail to understand how one can know Christ and claim His blood for salvation, yet refuse to acknowledge the woman Christ Himself chose to donate the blood to be given on our behalf. I cannot comprehend how one can love Jesus and ignore the very woman He chose from Eternity to bring Him into our presence in order to save us from our obstinate exile in sin.

Jesus Christ is our Bridegroom, the one spoken of throughout the Gospels, and we, the Church, are His Bride. When we see our Savior, by necessity we acknowledge His Mother, and we seek her counsel. We are embraced not only by Jesus, but by His Mother, who takes us as Her own in our marriage to her Divine Son, and constantly seeks to bring us into closer union with Him.



I can testify to her intervention; I can testify that when I look at my Mother Mary, she directs me to Jesus and the more I am willing to accept her as my Mother, the more I find that Jesus awaits under the Baldaccino of the Altar, and the more I recognize that the blood spilled for me unites us all not only to Him, but to an eternity of which we cannot even dream.


It was Jesus who shed His blood for us, but it was His Mother who donated her blood first.

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.
*

Sacrament Police

Last night I learned that a friend of mine who became a mother three months ago, is struggling more in her marriage and for her child than any of us realized. Her husband, who is not Catholic, is not allowing her to baptize their child. At all. They did not, at marriage, make any promises with regard to the faith of their children as this friend was also not Catholic at the time...she was only Confirmed a couple years ago, and even THAT was a huge struggle with only opposition from her husband.

In the process of learning this information, and in sending out prayer requests for this situation, I've become aware of the desperate need of Catechesis for adults with regard to Baptism, and our place as the Faithful. I know of some very devout and well-meaning Catholics who have done some very wrong things with regard to the issues of stonewalling parents.

The first was this; a woman I know said that her neice and nephew, atheists if I'm correct, logically refused to baptize their child. Well, this woman one day took it upon herself to "baptize" the child herself in the bathroom sink. So although this happened maybe 20 years ago, the child in question never learned he was baptized (and it may have not just been illicit, but invalid - there was no emergency, and may be invalid for other reasons.), and the parents also don't know.

There are SEVERAL problems with this! First, even though we as the faithful may love our friends and relatives and desire their good, we do NOT have the right to be sacrament police and trample on the rights of parents to work for what they see as being the good of their child. Yes, we hope that child will be baptized, but we cannot overstep our bounds and usurp the rightful authority and preferences of the parents...the parents GOD CHOSE for this child. We cannot forget that the Catholic Church teaches that PARENTS are the primary educators of their children and they hold the authority in the spiritual formation, or lack therof, with their children.
We can work to catechize the parents, we can pray for the parents and child, and we can trust in God's mercy. To "enforce" an illicit Sacrament just because someone is not operating according to OUR preferences and desires is contrary to the dignity and free will of the parents who hold rightful authority, and it is contrary to the dignity of the child who may be destined for a conversion like St. Augustine's. It is an offront to God to act thus, rather than trusting that He alone knows best and knows that child and His plans for that child; if we enforce what is supposed to be such a profound moment in the spiritual life of a soul, we act out of misguided love, and officially commit what is known as a "sin". And sin is, as defined by St. Thomas Aquinas, "a rejection of God's love."

Do we love that unbaptized child? YES! But guaranteed, God loves that child more. Entrust that little soul to God's mercy, and then respect God's authority in the matter. Who are WE to question HIM?

Another friend, another person who should know better, suggested that I get "ordained" through some weird Protestant denomination that offers "ordinations" by mail order. Unfortunately, these "ordinations" are legal in the state of Minnesota and one who possesses the certificate may apparently complete baptisms and officiate at weddings.

Now, if someone is already Protestant, well, it's between them and God. If we as Catholics take part in such a fallacious and invalid thing, we are outright DENYING our own Baptism, we are being unfaithful to God and our Church, and in fact, we're treading into the unholy land of heresy.

Further, if we, as alleged Catholics, are running around "baptizing" children, with or without their parents' permission, under the "authority" of a Protestant church, then we are not baptizing them Catholic...we are baptising them...something else. It might still be a valid baptism, but again, why would a Catholic put themselves into a position to baptize a child...something less than Catholic?

Sure, maybe these sacraments are valid in the eyes of state law, but we as Catholics don't operate according to the laws of Caesar when it comes to the spiritual world. We operate according to a higher authority; God. Who speaks through the authority He gave to Peter, who is represented in our Holy Father and the teaching authority of the Magisterium. It is not a physical authority, but a spiritual one; we are not part of an earthly Kingdom, but a Heavenly Kingdom. The laws of the State cannot stand above God, and because the State authorizes something does not mean that God acquiesces to the State.

Even further...the Sacrament of Baptism isn't just a few splashes of water and the Trinitarian formula. It begins a life of grace, an entrance into the ecclesial community, and ALL of us, as members of this mystical Body of Christ are obligated to help form this child in our faith. Parents and Godparents are primary, but what of the fact that people with no authority to do so are secretly "baptizing" children and leaving them without formation? They cannot grow in grace without the assistance of those around them.

It is Confirmation that COMPLETES Baptism; until we are Confirmed, we are not fully Catholic. So...in the Roman Rite, it is required that the child in question receive catechesis in the Faith for years prior to being Confirmed; and that child, then an adult in the eyes of the Church, must take it upon him or herself to REQUEST the Sacrament of Confirmation. Again...free will.

People, it is good to care about those around you, and it is good to desire the best for them; and the best is clearly an eternal life with God. But we can't take it upon ourselves to enforce our own timeline.

To Catholics who have completed these illicit baptisms out of your well meaning intentions, to those of you who have out of the same well-meaning intentions chose to be "ordained" by mail (well...you're not ordained and you have no spiritual authority, so don't be deluded) - go to Confession. Go talk to a priest. Get some solid advice on how to deal with the "baptism" you performed. Read the Catechism of the Catholic Church, especially with regard to Baptism. Quit going around assuming authority you don't have, even if your heart IS in the right place.

And just so you're aware; in the case of an emergency, ANYONE can baptize someone. In Minnesota, ambulances carry Holy Water (although regular water can be used), and a little card with the Trinitarian formula for baptism, in the case that someone is dying, or a baby is born and is close to death, or even stillborn. Even if the EMT's/Paramedics are atheists, they are asked to perform this rite according to the wishes of the person - it's filed under "Psychological First Aid." But in the life of grace, for the soul affected, it has an impact for eternity.

What is needed for Baptism is the permission of the parents, the desire of the parents to raise this child in the faith, and ultimately, the completion of Baptism with the sacrament of Confirmation.

We can't be sacrament police. It's not our job. It IS our job to be faithful and to pray, and to trust in God's mercy. THAT will do a lot more for people around us than in taking actions contrary to God's will for the souls He loves more than we can ever imagine.

*
Read about Baptism in the CCC here.

***** NOTE: I am not a theologian, and any doctrinal errors or misstatements are mine and should not reflect upon the valid teachings of the Church. Do NOT use this post as catechesis in a classroom, but only authentic texts published with the proper ecclesial authority. I have linkd to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and that is only the tip of the iceburg with regard to the immensity of Baptism.

Blushing Bride

This evening I attending the wedding of a dear friend and neighbor, a woman, in part, responsible for my own coversion. Why? Because she is a good Catholic.

When I first purchased my townhome, I prayed that God would lead me to a place where I would be surrounded by good Catholic friends. He has answered this prayer with great abundance, and one of the first people I met when I moved in was...my now newly-married friend. She and her sister had a garage next door to me, and their unit backed up to mine. I think I mentioned in conversation that I had begun attending the nearby parish, and she became very excited, telling me they'd been members there for awhile and were happy I was Catholic, too. Over the last few years, although we mostly seemed to wave at each other only in passing, both of these young women have become good friends of mine, and so as I write this post, I have to admit the memories are a little bittersweet.

Tonight, this friend got married. A couple years ago when we rode to Theology on Tap together, I happened to meet the man who is now her new husband. If I remember correctly, they had perhaps met a couple times, and I also had spent some time talking with him that night and on other occasions. For some reason, I could "see" the two of them together, so finally I asked her about him. At the time, they were only friends, and she was noncomittal about anything further, but I wondered. And sure enough, about a year later they were officially dating...and tonight...they married.

And I couldn't be happier for them both! It was a beautiful wedding between a man and a woman who know what the Sacrament is about, a reception including their family and friends whom they love and who love them both dearly in return, and all in all, it was a wonderful night!

Yet I will miss her and her sister, for they are selling their townhome and will no longer be my neighbors. I will miss their smiling faces and the short conversations or waves as we pass each other coming and going, along with prayer requests and promises on the fly. Their faith has bolstered what was once a fledgling faith for me, and as I have watched them grow over the last few years, they have helped me to grow. And so it is with joy and sorrow both that I attended this wedding, thanking God for the providental connections He makes for us, knowing that if we trust our welfare to Him, He will always provide for us what we need in any given moment, from simple friendship to eternal sacramental bonds.


It was also a night to make connections with friends and acquaintances I haven't seen in a few years, as well as make new friends who happen to be connected in other acquaintances in other circles in which I travel. Life is beautiful, is it not?

One of the people I had the great privilege of speaking with tonight is the prior Associate Pastor from my parish, who was reassigned this spring as Pastor of another parish. This particular priest was instrumental to me in where I am in life now, through a couple simple actions; he wrote recommendation letters to two Grad programs for me, and served as a reference for my current job. This priest also was often in the classroom when I taught RCIA, insuring, apparently, that any Latin pronounciation (ie: Gaudete: Gau DAY tay) was done correctly, and that what I said was free from heresy.

We fell into our old banter, causing me to have to remind him of the evening before RCIA when he had come in to check his speaking schedule, to learn I was signed up to give the catechesis on sin. He thought it was his topic, I was ready to back off, but he asked me to take it as he had two other talks that week as well, and ended his seemingly-nice request with the typical caveat I had come to expect from him: "Oh, no, you can give the talk about Sin. After all, you were a MUCH bigger sinner than I was!"

Thanks, Father.

He of course denied the event, but everyone there who knew him knew that it sounded EXACTLY like the kind of thing he would say.

And that's why we respect him so much, and why he was there to concelebrate my friend's wedding; because not only was he hilarious, he was (and is!) an awesome priest with the ability to balance jest with real business. And all of us who have had contact with him have become better Catholics out of his real encouragement and real actions on our behalf. I know my newly-married friend would say at least that, probably more. It was good to see him again tonight and that he is doing well at his new parish.

I'm sad to report that I had to leave before I was able to get a photo with my friend in her bridal gown, and one with her and her sister, but such is life. And as it turns out, my failure to get a photo with them was a blessing. As soon as I got into my car, I realized that I had some green herb right smak dab center in my teeth, which likely couldn't be observed in the dark dance hall...but WOULD have shown up in stark relief in any given photograph embellished with flash.

God is quite merciful, y'all. Extremely so.

And so I end this post with a prayer request for all of you, known and unknown. Please offer your prayers for my friend and her husband, that God bless their marriage, that they be blessed with children, and that they continue to serve as an example of holiness for us all.


******

PSA: I have found it necessary to enable comment moderation . I will do my best to publish your comments in as timely a manner as possible.