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.
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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.
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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.


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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.

Real Women Wear Kevlar

I don't know what made me think of this stuff, but this blog is in need of humor so here it is. Maybe I'm the only one to think it funny, but let me assure you, at the time it was just plain weird and unexpected. And I STILL think it's funny, even as I'm grateful for the seriousness of it.

Back in 1996 around this time, the dog days of summer, I was preparing to enter into what I thought was to be my career in Law Enforcement. I'd completed my background investigation, during which the investigators officially determined I was a REALLY boring person after verifying it with almost ALL the people who knew me. So I'd been called to the location of my future employer several times in order to complete paperwork, was sent to a couple uniform specialty stores to order my uniforms and patches, and went to the gun range to practice and hopefully "qualify" with the .45 Smith & Wesson I'd be required to carry on duty.

Well, I went about these trips to the Twin Cities from two hours away as required. It was interesting; I found it ironic that the uniform shops were found in the most urban areas, one of which was located on the infamous Hennepin Avenue (Uptown area), and the other on the ghetto street, Broadway Ave N. of Minneapolis, home, even to this day, of frequent street shootings and murders.

(Actually, in my last job, only blocks from the uniform shop, I witnessed a drug deal taking place before my very eyes, right there in the open air in broad daylight of...noon.)

But I digress. I remember finding the store, parking in the lot in back, and thinking of how embarrassing it would be for the future rookie to be mugged between the car and the store at 2:00 in the afternoon on a Tuesday.

It was weird being there. I was surrounded by Police and Fire uniforms, and others of these professions were consulting with various store employees, who were obviously very knowledgeable about what each needed specific to their departments. I was only 22, and felt like a stranger in this store; I didn't belong there. 

I felt like a little kid in a grown-up shop waiting for my Dad to come in to make his purchase.

I remember standing up very straight and trying to look official and professional, knowing I looked like a rookie, knowing that THEY knew that I knew I looked like a rookie. Because I was, in fact, a rookie. And, in fact, I wasn't even a rookie yet!

To be sure, I didn't even know what I was there for until they told me: my Department had sent an order and they were making a bullet-proof vest for me. Yup. I was there to be fitted for a bullet-proof vest.

I was SO glad Mom wasn't there with me. She might have fainted.

The reason I was there to be fitted for a bullet-proof vest was because, on the Job, someone might decide it would be a good idea to shoot me. And for some reason I didn't really have a problem with that idea. Because I would be wearing said vest. Knowing lots o'cops die each year anyway because vests aren't made for head shots.

Don't tell Mom, OK?

Anyway, I was measured, the vest and its Kevlar layers were explained to me, and I saw the trauma plate that goes over the chest up close and personal. They wanted to make sure I knew what I'd be wearing, maybe to give me a chance to turn the job down.

I left the store to head to my car, wishing I was already wearing the Vest in case I walked through one of the daily neighborhood shootings they use to welcome new guests to their area in that part of Minneapolis.

 It's a custom there, you see. If you're not bleeding...you're not family.

From there, my official Department business done for the day, I returned to my home in small-town Minnesota and went about my life in which the idea of being killed on the job was an unlikely event.

Then , a couple days later, I got a phone call from a woman working in personnel for the Department hiring me. She apologized for the call, but no need; I'd met her and she was a gem of a person. Then I realized why SHE was calling and not my future supervisor, who was male.

"I'm so sorry to call and have to ask you this..." her voice trailed off.  She was clearly embarrassed, and I waited patiently, having already had my life gone through to the extreme by perfect strangers who were looking for all sorts of junk. As it was, I THOUGHT I had nothing left to hide.

"Well, we got a call from the Uniform Company today, and they forgot to ask...um..." She paused again. "What is your bra size? I'm SO SORRY!"

I laughed, completely appreciating her embarrassment...I wouldn't want to call a near stranger and ask them that, either! Poor lady got conscripted, because apparently the woman who worked for the place making the vest destined to save my life at some point wasn't working that day. And it simply wouldn't DO for a man to call me and ask me for such an intimate detail! Can you IMAGINE how THAT would have gone?

I gave her the info (no, I won't share it), but it wasn't until I actually GOT the vest, two weeks after I'd already been on the Job, that I truly understood the importance of the question.

This is inside info, y'all. No pun intended.

I'd "worn" a bullet-proof vest before, one belonging to my (male) cousin who taught me how to shoot. He'd been afraid of ricochets in the gravel pit we used in target practice, so I wore his vest when shooting. And the thing was HUGE on me. It is a vest with a big metal "trauma plate" in the center to cover the major organs. The vest itself is made of layers of fabric, including Kevlar, which goes over the shoulders and around the torso, attached by Velcro straps on the sides. It's the kind of thing that, if you wear it properly, will not allow you to bend over and tie your shoes. So you make sure your shoes are well-tied BEFORE you don the vest.

Wearing one is like walking around in a modified body cast. New cops are discernible from veterans because the new cops look like robots in their new vests. Call them "Bender".

And just so you know...uniforms themselves are not made for women. We all wore stuff in men's sizes but tailored at the waist and hips as needed...the shirts...all men's stuff. And the end result is NOT flattering. Thank God working as a cop is not a fashion show...we'd all be condemned.

Anyway, bullet-proof vests are the exception and are worn UNDER the uniform shirts, over the required t-shirt. And the vests are tailored to accommodate...ahem...certain...womanly features...in accordance with her proportions. That requires certain intimate measurements. Which were (thankfully!) sufficient over the phone. The woman I spoke with explained that specific measurements were better, but they could go with something general and be fine. I was happy for that!

And to those who need to know...if we give the right info, the fit is right, too. In other words...don't lie about size. It doesn't work for men, and for them lying decimates only their pride. Women..if you lie about THIS size, you might be risking your LIFE. Besides...it's darned uncomfortable to wear something like this day after day in the wrong size!

For you see...Madonna wasn't the first woman to use armor as underwear. She just wanted to emulate REAL women who wear armored underwear.

I'm just sayin'....
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The Ripple Effect of Sin

We all know about confessing the sins we commit. We read examinations of conscience, focusing on all those things we've done. We go to Confession, we go through our laundry list, and sometimes, it becomes rote because we do the same things wrong all the time.

But every so often, God calls our attention not to what we've actively done to offend Him...but to what we HAVEN'T done. And those sins of omission are often far more brutal in nature than those we actively commit.

The Gospel of Self Esteem

We live in a world that embraces the Gospel of Self-Esteem, a world that focuses on the good that is done, and the evil only if it is defined according to the popular political causes of the day. We are encouraged to think well of ourselves, to treat ourselves well, to give ourselves a break, and to realize that, in all probability, we have an awesome impact on people who come into our lives. It is suggested that we focus on this positive impact, because God forbid that we get into the thought process embodied in "It's a Wonderful Life!"

While I do think it's important for us to realize that we have an inherent dignity and value, and that our lives DO matter to others, and we do, indeed, most likely have a positive impact on the people around us, we also have to remember that we are fallen creatures. And thus, somtimes our not-so-holy-actions have a negative impact, one that can ripple even through centuries and millenia.

Judgment

I know that one day I will stand at my own particular judgment, and I'm pretty darned aware of what I've done in life, the sins I've actively committed, and still commit. And to be honest, I often beat myself up over many of these, especially the big ones, and for a few reasons.

First,because the "big ones" still have an impact in my life, one that will never go away for as long as I walk this earth. For this reason, I have a VERY difficult time in forgiving myself. It might be one of my biggest struggles; forgiving myself. I've been to Confession, and I know that God has forgiven me, and I think I've even had perfect contrition in some of those cases (God can judge that, I can't). Yet, I can't forgive myself, and so at times, I continue to beat myself up over some of these.

Recently I went to Confession, and while I do not suffer from scrupulosity (basically, the belief that EVERYTHING is a sin, and the sufferer cannot seem to accept any consolation of mercy), the priest did note some of my general struggle. He said to me that there is a fine line between beating ourselves up and recognizing and being sorry for our sins...and God does not want us to beat ourselves up. He is merciful, He wants us to experience His mercy, and He wants us to remember His mercy, always.

I am comforted by this counsel, versions of which I've heard over and over again, from different Confessors.

As I mentioned, I do often beat myself up over those things I know are wrong; in part, because if I don't, I find myself rationalizing them. They become unimportant, or "not so bad." I too easily fall into the trap of "Well, that person does it and I think that person is holy, so if they do it, it must be ok." Even contrary to what I know to be objective, I'll give in to rationalization and the next thing you know, I won't bring up that sin in Confession because I no longer "consider" it to be a sin. Thus, it seems far preferable to "beat myself up" and keep that sin in front of my face, even if someone I respect commits it, too. That way, at least I know I did something wrong, I can take personal responsiblity, and I find that when I am tempted by vanity or pride, I can remember somethig that "isn't a big deal" and realize how far I have to go towards Sainthood.

Yet, it is not these "active" sins that scare me the most. I know that I will go before God with these, and I will remember them (even if He does not), but I can accept that because I know my purgatorial state is necessary. It is not these sins that scare me, for I am, I think, paying a lot of my temporal punishment in this life.

Sins of Omission

These are the sins maybe we commmit but don't recognize, for they are a deficit in proper behavior and proper actions. They arise not from what we do...but from what we DON'T do. They are the sins of missed opportunities.

Consideration of these sins are what make me shake in my shoes. Not what I did...but what I didn't do when called to do something.

And second to this...I consider the ripple-effect of those times in life that I had a HORRIBLE effect on someone else. I know of some of these situations, although I'll never be able to see the impact. I remember moments of unkind words, even apologies to the person offended, responded to in humility rather than anger. I think it has been the humility, over the years, that causes me to remember some of these, for they taught me the most.

Amazing to me; even in our most vile moments, we offend God by offending our friends, and He responds in such a way that true kindness towards our evil strikes serve to bring us to real contrition...even years later.

I spent years being evil, both in outward actions as well as in omissions. Part of reconciliation is making amends to offended parties, but most of those are not in my life and were only passing through, chance encounters. I'll never be able to apologize. And I'll never know the ripple effect of my own evil. Yet, God is merciful and He has given me opportunities to make up for some of it, and I only pray that I live long enough to do enough good to counteract the evil I have brought into the world.

We DO have to recognize that while we may have a positive effect on people, we also have a negative effect on others; actively and passively. It's healthy to recognize this, for once we do, we can own it, we can claim it, and we can give it to God in the Sacrament of Confession.

Maybe we'll still suffer for our past action or lack therof; but at least we can come to the point of agreement with God that we have not lived up to His standard.

I wish I could make it up to all the people I've offended, especially in those years during which I so embraced my anger and took it out on everyone around me. Often I knew what was the right thing to do; and still, I chose my own path, not God's.

How great is God's mercy. How great is His compassion; and so my prayer remains that those who were victims of my own sins have experienced God's compassion to a far greater extent than that which I have experienced myself.

I think, to some degree, I understand the Apostle Paul, for he and I are so similiar in so many ways. I pray for his intercession over the next year, and hope that I, too, will be given so many opportunities to bring people to Christ, especially those my actions injured the most.

The Transfiguration

I love the Gospel readings of the Transfiguration, which, today we find in Matthew 17:1-9

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.

And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him.
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.”

When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid.
But Jesus came and touched them, saying,“Rise, and do not be afraid.”
And when the disciples raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone.

As they were coming down from the mountain, Jesus charged them, “Do not tell the vision to anyone until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”

A couple years ago when I was teaching RCIA, I had to give a reflection on the readings for the upcoming Sunday and was stricken by those that were used. In the first reading for that day, Abraham spoke with God when surrounded by complete darkness, and in the Gospel readings of the Transfiguration, God spoke out of the darkness cast by a cloud. (This image is in both Matthew and that which is found in Luke 9:28).

It would seem that it is significant that darkness descends, whether through abscence of light or through the cloud described in today's Gospel, when God has something special to teach us. So often we surround ourselves with so many distractions, many over which we have no control.

In the Gospel readings that describe the Transfiguration, Peter, James, and John are in the presence of Jesus when a cloud descends upon them. Have you ever flown through clouds? Have you ever walked in a thick fog of the early morning? It's disorienting, isn't it? One moment you can see clearly, maybe for miles, and the next moment you don't know what's in front of you, behind you, even beneath your very feet. In an airplane, you may have the sense that even though you can no longer see, you must trust that the pilot knows what he's doing. In such a dense cloud, it even stifles voices and other sounds; it can give the impression of complete abandonment.

And that's exactly what it's designed to do. That's why God uses darkness and speaks FROM that darkness or the cloud. Notice the wording in this Gospel; God didn't speak through the cloud; He spoke FROM it.

God speaks to us when we are cut off from our senses, when maybe we feel most alone; there He is most present. There, He surrounds us in a way that He can't when we are taken in by the world. But there, in the midst of that cloud, we are contained in God Himself and He speaks, directing our attention to His Son, who in turn touches us in our fear and inspires us to trust in Him; in Jesus alone. He knows what is best for us, He knows what we need and He knows that sometimes we need the most extreme fear so that it can be cast out by the perfect love that is embodied in Jesus Christ.

Just as Jesus is Transfigured before the very eyes of the Apostles, so He calls us all to follow Him in trust, and be transformed. Perhaps we'd miss this message entirely were it not for the moments of darkness that force us to hone in on the one important thing; the voice of God that speaks from eternity and has called us forth from eternity to be with Him.

From the Office of Readings for today, August 6 (taken from a sermon on the transfiguration of the Lordy by Anastasius of Sinai, bishop):

Let us run with confidence and joy to enter into the cloud like Moses and Elijah, or like James and John. Let us be caught up like Peter to behold he divine vision and to be transfigured by that glorious transfiguration. Let us retire from the world, stand aloof from the earth, rise above the body, detach ourselves from creatures and turn to the Creator, to whom Peter in ecstasy exclaimed: Lord, it is good for us to be here.

Amen.

Sad

I don't know what's wrong with me today, but I'm just...sad. No, I'm not wandering around crying or anything so ridiculous. I just have this general sense of...sadness.

At this point, I'm chalking it up to just being a woman. We get like this sometimes, unpredictably. Sometimes we KNOW why we're sad because usually some event sets it off, but sometimes, we just get sad for no particular reason.

Who knows? Maybe our biological makup is running some strange update and making sure emotions are working properly?

I've had a pretty good day; I got up, went to work, got some stuff done, didn't get other stuff done, joked with co-workers, and completed the final prep for a child's First Confession. I hit the gym on my way home, ran a couple errands, and spent some time in Adoration praying (badly) the LOH.

Hmmm...maybe that's it. I missed LOH yesterday for some odd reason and never got to it, and couldn't focus at all today. So I ran around the church and got some cool photos of the stained glass windows. Unfortunately, there's not a lot of stuff to look at in my church, not a lot of artistry or beauty in the architecture; it's like a typical Catholic Church built within the last 40 years; utilitarian, much like a bomb shelter with stained glass adornments.

And yet..I'm sad. Maybe I'll see if I can find either a good comedy or one of my rare chick-flicks, the tear-jerker kind, just so I can have a REASON to be sad...and get over it.

No, I'm not ALWAYS this analytical, but if I'm sad for no reason, I want to get to the bottom of it so I can go back to being contented again.

So I ask you, friends, to pray for me and maybe make a few wise-cracks in the combox.

Vocational Discernment

This summer I've been working, with the Youth Minister, on finding speakers for an upcoming class on Vocational Discernment. It's a general kind of thing, to address the questions: "How do I know what God is calling me to do?" and "How do I begin to listen to God" and "I know what I want...and what my parents want..but what does GOD want?"

Finally, the speakers are in place, our job as employees will be to welcome and introduce the speakers, and then get out of the way, which is ALWAYS a nice position to take!

Yet, I find that as I've worked on this project this summer in the precious few hours provided by my employer, that I have been taken back a few years to when I began discerning my Vocation. VISION 2009, a discernment guide published each year, was recently sent out to various parishes and I have one opened here in front of me. I have read many of the articles, cringing at some (as usual), but even the latter have some usefulness. The ads for the various communities are always interesting, so I've followed a few links and I've likewise been frustrated at those communities that do NOT have a web presence.

Like it or not, we live in a world of technology, and I'll be the first to admit that I'm not going to call up a community if I can't see what they're about other than a brief "bio" on a magazine that comes out only annually.

We live in scary times. Some religious communities wear habits...some do not. And these factors, like it or not, are a huge part of discernment. It was a factor to me a few years ago and as we look at the climate of Vocations in America, those religious communities that wear habits are EXPLODING in comparison to those who don't. In fact, the latter are mostly dying off and merging in order to care for their elderly...because there is no one to take their places.

Like it or not, the communities that have continued to wear habits are the ones gaining new aspirants and postulants and novices, for they are also the ones to have stayed most true to their original charisms. Thus I would suggest that it isn't so much the outer trappings that are drawing men and women to these communities; it is their Faith. It is the Faith and Loyalty to their founders and to the Magisterium that are signified in the Habit, and that Loyalty speaks to the hearts and souls of those who are seeking to truly follow Christ.

Sadly, so many Orders and their Congregations have fallen away, giving in to the ways of the world, and many of these have chosen to let go of the Holy Habit in favor of dressing like "the guy next door" or "the ladies next door." And there is some validity in that, for in the beginning, many of the Orders began by dressing like the poorest of the poor. Thus, the original Sisters and even Brothers were indistinguishable from the impoverished that they served.

But we live in a different world now, and we are ALL judged by others based on our outward appearance. The world is superficial and cares nothing for the soul. Thus, it makes sense that those who care the most for souls are choosing to use an exterior symbol of the Habit in order to identify not themselves, but Christ.

A few years ago, I remember thinking back to the days that I had dreamed of being famous. I thought I would light up Broadway, and some early success on the stage even lead me to believe it was actually POSSIBLE. The very idea of having to disappear and lose my individuality under the clothing of a religious community was a terrifying temptation; for I never wanted to lose who I was, my very individuality - even AFTER I had long given up dreams of being famous. (In fact, these days, the idea of being famous is abhorrent to me!) Yet, even now, I consider that temptation of Vanity; to realize that if I were to wear a Habit, I'd be letting go of myself so completely as to blend in with others and lose my freedom to do what I want to do.

I think that this temptation was one of those that chased me away from real discernment a few years ago. I wanted to be my own person. I didn't want to be lost among so many others. And it seems that many of the communities that have chosen to lose the Habit have given into this temptation as well, choosing individuality over obedience, choosing political platforms over real spiritual charisms.

Yet, we see how the idea of obedience and even conformity through wearing a Habit does NOTHING to quash the individual; we have so many examples! Consider St. Theresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, St. Therese of Lisieux, and so many others! They were men and women who wore Habits...and their names and their individuality were not quashed through answering God's Call and dying to their own desires. God in fact elevated them such that they were true celebrities long before the Cult of Hollywood!

Looking through these magazines, resources, and websites has brought me back to those early days of discernment, and has reminded me of the confusion to be provided to someone truly seeking. While the technology and ability to research are wonderful, and NECESSARY, it also provides a daunting landscape of considerations and overwhelming possibilities.

While our very culture of religious communities who have "lost their way" require us to add another dimension to Vocational Discernment, we are forced to give in to another temptation; that of looking for our place in the same way that we would find a job through Monster.Com. Or Hotjobs.com.

But Discernment and finding Home is not a job search. Again, referencing my discernment of a few years ago, that was the biggest mistake I made, and the same one made by others who knew I was discerning; not only did I naturally fall into "discerning" through hours of research via the web, but others around me fell into the same trap on my behalf. Just as, when I was unemployed or seeking other employment people would send me job leads or websites, so, when I was discerning, did people send me religious communities and discernment websites. Instead of listening to God, I was reviewing "employer resumes".

In short, I was interviewing God and asking Him to meet MY demands.

True Discernment is the other way around; it is about being Called and then interviewed by God; and then freely choosing to answer His requests to love us as He created us to be loved.

So I somehow have found myself full circle, reviewing these publications in preparation to introduce youth to the idea of Discernment, realizing that the answers aren't found here. I've half a mind to steal the stuff and hide it during and after the event. There's something to be said for the absence of too much information. There's something to be said for stoicism and austerity.

It's only in silence and lack distraction that we can hear God. In this culture of soundbite insanity, even in the holiest of places we are innundated with information. We can't get away. Somehow, I think that introducing young people to so much information so quickly may not be the way to go about helping them to discern God's voice.

We are all constantly praying for more Vocations to the Priesthood and Religious Life, but I have to wonder if our response might be truly counterproductive? We might be getting the cart before the horse.

When someone says that they are considering a Vocation, what do we do but throw information at them? We give them magazines and books and websites, and especially in the case of women, we say, "Good luck!" Diocesan Vocations Directors are without a leg to stand on when it comes to God's Call to women, and no matter how good their intentions, all they can do is throw information about and say, "My door is open if you have questions." And in reality, the hapless VoD has no idea what he would do if a woman came back to him with questions, for he's equipped and has the main focus of assisting men towards the Priesthood.

There's a tide of Vocations out there, and if the reports from Steubie North are true, there's a TON of young men and woman locally ready to give their fiat to God...if only we don't overwhelm them with too many choices.

They don't know HOW to discern. They don't know HOW to make choices, and it's not feasable to go with "whatever is close by." Unfortunately, what is "close" and might bill itself as "Catholic" may in practice be pagan and acting in most ways adversely to the narrow gate that leads to Heaven.

I have to say that maybe learning to be quiet and just know God and truly seek His Will might be far more valuable than all the books in the world. For if we can't teach them how to develop a relationship with Christ, how can they possibly even BEGIN to make headway with all the data available to them in their discernment? How do we find the balance between teaching them how to Discern AND giving them the tools they need in this culture of technology?

Divine Love

A few years ago in the midst of my return to the practice of my faith, I was struggling hard, trying to grow in virtue, frustrated at my vices, nearly overcome, realizing how far I had to go. (Actually, I'm still there. Nothing has changed.)

I was spending a lot of time in Adoration, praying, "Dear Jesus, please don't give up on me. Don't ever give up on me, I'm trying!" Some days I'd absolutely be in tears as I begged Jesus not to let me go. I knew where I'd come from and it was a place I never wanted to see again, but I knew the slope is steep and it wouldn't take much before I'd be mired in that pit again.

Then on day at Mass, Father happened to say those exact words of my prayer, and as he was scanning the congregation he seemed to stop and stare directly at me as he said, "God will NEVER give up on you!"

My heart caught in my throat as he continued with this particular gem, as if affirming the words of my prayer, not knowing how desperately I needed to hear what he had to say. Father hadn't heard me praying and he hadn't read my journal, but God doesn't worry about trifles like that; He can speak so directly if He chooses, delivering His messages of love to us through our Priests, through the Sacraments, and through other people He sends into our lives.

The love we experience through others is a reflection of and participation in Divine Love; it is how God has chosen to order the world. Even when we might think we're the only ones experiencing a particular darkness, God can speak to us through others and help us understand we are never alone.

We learn that He pursues us relentlessly, never giving up, for His greatest desire is that we be united to Him for eternity; nothing else is acceptable. It does not matter how far we run, how much we fight him, God will never stop loving us and will never stop his pursuit.

The second reading today addresses this reality:

Rom 8:35, 37-39

Brothers and sisters:
What will separate us from the love of Christ?
Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine,
or nakedness, or peril, or the sword?
No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly
through him who loved us.
For I am convinced that neither death, nor life,
nor angels, nor principalities,
nor present things, nor future things,
nor powers, nor height, nor depth,
nor any other creature will be able to separate us
from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Our Lord will always pursue us. He will never give up, no matter what we do. Even those afflictions that come upon us can't separate us from Him; He is forever present, and often these sufferings are a very sign of His love.

Even though I write about this, I have a VERY difficult time grasping it. I still look upon the crucifix and think, "I can't possibly be worth THAT!" And from last Sunday (and again this week), the Gospel reading of the Treasure in the Field/Pearl of Great Price, again, I can't imagine that Our Lord would find me of any value whatsoever.

Why would God pursue me? I'm flawed. Worse...I'm worse than flawed. I've never even thought myself to be even REMOTELY attractive in any way, and so that fallen-nature part of me causes me to judge myself according to flawed world standards. God doesn't look at us for our exterior (which, by the way, He created), and God doesn't judge us even according to our flaws, of which we are often the most critical observants. It is our flaws that enacted His compassion. It is our fallen nature that brought Him to be united with our physical reality in order to reunite us to Him for eternity. It is in answer to our most desperate longings that Jesus came to us, decided we were worth it, and took on the ultimate suffering on our behalf.

And He did this for us, individually. From conception, in the Garden, from the Cross, Jesus KNEW us, all, individually, perfectly, and it was in His Divine Love that His blood was shed.

For you. For me.

And I know I'm not the only one who struggles with making this understanding personal.

Yet, we have to believe it. We are called to believe it. We experience it each time we go to Mass...and the more often, the better. Jesus loves us each SO MUCH that He longs for us, He desires that we be united to Him; and that's why He offers himself in the Sacraments, especially that of the Holy Eucharist.

As I had begun this post speaking about how I'd prayed that Our Lord would not give up on me, I can testify that He has not, and I know that He never will. Indeed, He has not only pursued me, but He has surrounded me with others striving to know Him and love Him, and even many with the same doubts as I. It seems that each time I am confronted with doubt, He sends me a friend to share the experience and reveal His love even further.

Each day is an act of trust, and each day contains all the love of God, if we only have the courage to open our eyes and see Him even in the smallest moments.
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The Internet and St. Thomas Aquinas

As I previously mentioned, I was wondering what my blog patron, St. Thomas Aquinas, would have to say about the phenomena of meeting and becoming friends with people via the internet. So I did some digging, and sure enough, I found another section of the Summa Theologica that was located with the Q Documents. My guess is that it was cut from the Summa because, at the time it was written, apparently there WASN'T internet so archaeologists were confused and didn't think the writings were authentic. (What I don't understand is that the people who like the "Q" theories think all SORTS of crazy things with no basis in ANY reality are true...but when they are faced with the prophetic wisdom of a great Saint they trample his writings into the dirt!)

Well, after laborious translations, I think I have finally found the answer to whether our current method of making friends is a good thing.

Whether using a tool called "the internet" to meet other people and travel great distances to meet them in person can be justified?

Objection 1: It is dangerous to meet people via the internet. As the true intentions of those with whom one may interact through a written medium cannot be properly ascertained, one should maintain friendships only with those with whom they have real contact each day.

Objection 2: It is especially dangerous to travel in order to meet other people, for the same reasons as set out above, but furthermore, it is MORE dangerous because then one is taken away from home which is a protective haven.

Objection 3: It is more virtuous to be cautious and aloof.

Objection 4: What is the inter net? We need only one layer in order to catch fish and we don't use nets to capture people. This question has no logic. No one meets other people through the use of nets!

ON THE CONTRARY I answer that, from the beginning of the written word, contact has been made with other people through the use of such words, prior to actual meetings. The Apostles, such as Paul, and James, sent letters to the various churches and visited them as well in order to preach according to his Divine Mission.

I answer that it can be justified to meet others via the medium of the tool yet to be invented called "the internet", for this tool will take the place of the laborious process of writing letters using ink and papyrus, sealing them with beeswax and a seal, and sending them via courier.

Reply to Objection 1: I answer that, while it may be true that contact via written word from afar cannot reveal the hearts of those with whom one corresponds, it is still a true contact. Truthfulness can be verified over time through the use of details and consistency in the writings presented from each correspondant. At times it is necessary to send ahead the written words, as in the case of St. Ignatius of Antioch who wrote letters prior to his martyrdom and whose letters were taken to heart by the peoples who had never made his direct acquaintance. Those who knew the Saint directly were only harmed when they followed in his heroic footstps and were martyred with him after willingly identifying themselves as Christians, then were fed to the lions. Thus, it was not the written correspondance that harmed the innocent, but rather, it was the Romans. Thus I answer that the internet is not dangerous; the governing bodies that shed the blood of the faithful are dangerous.

Additionally, the objection calls to mind the position of one who is cloistered and refrains from contact with the outside world. By necessity, humanity was designed by God to interact with others, and often with strangers and travellers. The act of traveling can be a pilgrimage in which the pilgrim must in humility submit to God's own designs, and the pilgrim must be willing to accept the assistance of strangers. It is further a grace for strangers to provide assistance to travelling pilgrims. Thus, I answer that the internet facilitates pilgrimages in a manner that is much safer than those which take place in our day.

Reply to Objection 2: I answer that, while home is a protective haven, it may be necessary for various reasons for one to leave that haven to visit other locales. In this process, while discernment is needed first, should the person in question accept the challenge to leave their haven, again the virtue of humility comes into exercise as the soul must learn to trust God for safety, and not those with whom one normally associates. Thus, it is clear that, rather than being dangerous, it is virtuous for someone to meet others via the internet as it causes one to grow in foundational virtues.

Reply to Objection 3: It would seem that being cautious is a virtue, yet the seeds of the Church was the blood of the martyrs. Thus, I answer that caution is not a virtue but a tool of Satan. Further, as our example for behavior belongs to Our Lord Jesus Christ, who was not aloof, but rather, took on our sins in order to free us from death, if we are aloof we are not in imitation of Him. Jesus tells us to "Take up your cross and follow me", which often means following Him away from what we think is safe; for we may also be called to be crucified, either where we live or, as in the case of St. Ignatius, in a circus in Rome. Travel to meet others, then, can lead to ultimate union with God, and this is a consummation devoutly to be wish'd!

Reply to Objection 4: The internet is a tool of communication yet to be invented, designed to take the place of the contemporary writing tools of our day. Further, it would seem that this objection has no logic, for Our Lord Himself met Apostles James and John while they were at their nets, and later directed Peter to "Duc en altum". Thus, it is clear that the use of nets has always been in place to facilitate important meetings especially with regard to divine mission.

I answer that, overall, it is clear that using the internet to facilitate meeetings with others is a continuation of the Apostolic tradition and ultimately unifies Christians all over the world. In the case where such meetings lead to martyrdom, this is part of God's plan and a necessary seed in order to plant holiness in an area of the world where Christendom has not spread. Discernment in this regard is necessary before embarking upon any pilgrimage in order that the right intentions and virtues be in place prior to making the trip.


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So, there you have it. But I'm still not telling Mom what I did. She'd freak out!

Another Blog Gathering

I'm starting to think blogging is my life. Is that a good thing? This evening I met up with friends Cathy, Ray, and the Hadleys, all local bloggers whom I have previously met. Cathy, Ray, and I took the Rail from the 38th street station with a bunch of Twins fans headed to the game at the Metrodome.

Of course, the Rail was packed, but cleared out greatly at the 'Dome, allowing us to breathe a little bit. We were meeting the Hadleys (Mitchell and Judith) at The Little Red Wagon on 4th street Downtown. And we had a great time.

Cool thing...the restaurant had the Twins v. Indians game up on a big screen at at one point I saw a guy who had been standing (trying not to fall down) on the train with us en route there. He looked like he was having a good time, although the Twins had their rear ends handed to them this evening. * sigh *

En route back on the Rail, two guys stepped on, accompanied by a nearly-visible cloud of pot smoke. And by the way one of them was rapping (yes, really), they'd been greatly enjoying their ditchweed for quite awhile. Cathy, always ready with a quip, snarked quietly, "I'll bet that rap must be really profound when you're high on pot!"

Thankfully they disembarked a station or two later, and the cloud went with them. Personally, I'm offended. I mean, if they're going to bring a cloud of potsmoke with them, the least they can do is be as funny as Cheech and Chong! But no...in this day and age, we get bad rap!

But I digress. It's always fun to see my friends, especially those who don't live in the same corner of my world, and it's literally been a couple years since I've seen my good friends the Hadleys.

Yet this brings up a new point. I have to ask; is it now a GOOD idea to meet people via the internet? Isn't that dangerous? But there it is; I've met some wonderful friends thanks to the medium of Catholic blogging and my life is better for knowing these people. (Um...I hope they can say the same about me!)

So I am doing some research to see what St. Thomas Aquinas has to say about this issue. More to come!

Be Still and Know That I Am God

The other morning I stopped into the Adoration Chapel to pray Morning Prayer. The chapel had a few people in it, all retired people, some maybe from the nearby assisted-living. When I stop in during the day, that's the usual "crowd", and it always makes me remember my p's and q's. For example...I feel like I have to be EXTRA quiet, and dress very properly. I know these people remember what it was like prior to Vatican II, and even when I walk in with capris and a nice top, I've caught a glimpse of disapproving stares. I don't belong to a rad-trad parish, but I DO know that we have a large number of very devoted Catholics. And maybe it's my own guilty concience if I wear shorts in the chapel, knowing that my outfit would not be tolerated in many churches in secularized Europe But I digress.

As I was praying the other day, a woman quickly came into the chapel, very reverent, and knelt, in very quick movements, but very reverently. She sat down in the row in front of me, the next chair over, and proceeded to quickly pull out a STACK of printed prayers and devotions. Every movement she made was done very quickly with a sense of almost desperate urgency.

I was kneeling and had my breviary open in front of me, reading quietly, occasionally stopping to digest some line or some other related thought popping into my head. Before she had come, the chapel had been so quiet, so peaceful...but suddenly this person appeared and....well...

She was a fidgiter.

Normally I'm not too disturbed by people coming and going in the chapel. I might look up, but that's my own hyper-vigilance bourne out from years of training and attitude. I'm not usually too bothered by these people and quickly can return to what I'm doing, even forgetting what or whom I saw.

But the fidgiters...they're a whole 'nuther story.

They're very devout, typically, excellent Catholics, know their faith or at least tend to seek more knowledge, and always...they are seeking greater devotion. These people (always women, in my observation) clearly love Jesus and are seeking greater union with Him. It's a wonderful thing, and I love these people. They're the backbone of the parish.

But they don't seem to know what it means to "Be still and know that I am God."

As I'd mentioned, the woman in question came in with a stack of prayers on various papers, and I think she had a few small booklets, too. As she was immediately in front of me and just to the side, I couldn't help but be distracted, no matter how much I tried to focus on my own conversation with our Lord.

She paged through her papers, pulled one and then another out, variously reading them through. Her movements were rapid, she was trying to be quiet, but it wasn't the noise that was distracting; it was the movement. The constant movement. She moved in and out of her row several times, likely for various devotions, only to return to her stack and go through it for the next thing, only to set that down, maybe go through her purse again for another leaflet, maybe finding it in another place.

I don't know what devotions she was trying to complete. All I knew was that her body language of worry and quickness intruded into my own prayer, and made me try even harder to shut it out, to realize I had to be willing to deal with others and their methods of prayers.

In moments like that, I try to remember what St. Therese of Lisieux said about the Sister with the rosary that constantly rattled against the pew. I know that I need to deal with this thorn in my side, and so, in the end, I'm not irritated, only distracted. There's no sin in distraction, only temptation.

The woman in question got out of her pew once again, knelt in the center aisle, crossed herself very quickly and irregularly, several times, and then returned to her seat, collected her things, and left the chapel, quickly, silently. And again..it wasn't that she was making noise. It was her constant movement that was distracting.

On Prayer

So let's talk about prayer a little bit, for this woman is not alone. A priest who was at my parish previously once gave a talk in which this behavior was addressed; he spoke of people who come to the chapel for Adoration, but they bring a stack of prayers and devotions. They don't remain still ; they are constantly in movement, offering their novenas and litanies and list of prayers that * must* be said. And then they leave.

He asked, "Where, in all that, have they had time to LISTEN to Jesus?"

I've taken his words to heart. Although I've never gone so crazy on devotions, the temptation has been there. I've found wonderful novenas, captivating litanies, several prayers applicable to my situation or the situations of others, and really....lots of things that could take up an hour or even a brief visit.

As it is, it's tempting to just drop into the chapel and let loose with my own complaints, supplications and demands. None of us is without a laundry-list of issues to bring to the foot of the cross.

But that's NOT what Adoration is about.

Sure, Our Lord invites us to bring our concerns, ask for help, petition on behalf of others, and pray our litanies that honor Him and His Mother and the Saints. Those prayers are important. But maybe it's even MORE important to just come to Him and sit at His feet, silently, allowing Him, for once, to speak to US. To love us. To be present with us, and help us to understand how to be present with Him.

Adoration is not about the nearly-obsessive compulsion to pray a thousand devotions, to "get through" them each time, no matter how many indulgences they carry. If we're only rushing from one prayer to the next, seeking one indulgence, then another, with a desperate neediness to complete the words in the time we have...that's NOT prayer. It's...words. It's EXACTLY what Jesus cautioned us AGAINST! The multiplication of words does not get us or others to heaven!

One Hail Mary, spoken deliberately and with devotion, is far more valuable than a thousand litanies spoken without a thought other than to get the words out in a specific period of time.

I love devotions, and many devotions draw us into contemplation. But not when we're praying one devotion while thinking about the next one we HAVE to complete during our "prayer time."

Compare it to this: You are going to visit a friend you highly respect and love dearly, more so than your own life. And so, when you visit them, you rush in, skip a calm "hello" in favor of rattling off a bunch of things you think this person needs to know. And as soon as you get through your list, you're off. In the meantime, your dear friend listens patiently, not able to get a word in edgewise, and then in exasperation watches you rush off, knowing that he has something to say to you that, for once, will give you some peace.

And the amazing thing...this friend will take this abuse over and over, as long as He needs to.

But what He really wants is a relationship with you.

Jesus appreciates the honor of your visit, the litanies, the intercessions, and WANTS to hear of your troubles. Even though He already knows you more intimately that you know yourself, He wants you to talk to Him about it. And He wants to respond to you. And sometimes, like any good friend, he wants to just spend time with you, even in silence.

There's nothing like companionable silence, where both understand one another and can simply exist together.

THAT is contemplation.

So many sincerely devout Catholics become so focused on what is written that they forget that prayer is relational and requires reception of the other half of the conversation. And sometimes, it requires hearing ALL of the side of the other.

It's not that I'm not guilty of this. I've gone into the chapel with my own laundry list, and even now that I'm praying LOH, I have to take care not to rush through the prayers because sometimes Jesus uses only one line to get my attention. If I'm praying a litany, sometimes it's one title that makes me stop.

Sometimes the devotion isn't about completing the devotion, but being willing to listen to Jesus as He tells us what about that prayer is important in our relationship with Him.

In speaking with a priest this afternoon, we both lamented that people can't seem to get through the written devotions in order to grasp the beauty of contemplative prayer. It's not that everyone experiences mysticism, but rather, that they are willing to put aside the STUFF and just engage with Jesus, one on one.

There are so many beautiful devotions in our tradition, and they ARE important; but they are only tools. If we let the tools take control, then we are not developing a relationship with our Beloved; we are building obstacles.

So to all Catholics who love Jesus and love their devotions; please take note of what you're doing with your time and take even a day to leave your stack home. Just be present with Jesus, knowing that even if you don't know what to say...He DOES. And if you ALLOW Him to speak, you'll be amazed at what He has to say.

I promise.

For those of you who don't have the Blessed Sacrament exposed, know that Christ is just as present in the Tabernacle, and values your presence there where He is hidden just as much as He does where He is exposed in the monstrance. Truth be told, although my parish has Perpetual Adoration, I've had some of my most intimate encounters with God in the church where Christ is present but enclosed.

Jesus is there. He is waiting, and all he needs is a little bit of silence...and He will change your life forever.

I promise.