It's time to shut this thing down. I started it a couple of years ago just as a place to publish some of the stuff I'd written for RCIA and work out some ideas (I think better with my fingers). But I never promoted it and it never took off, and for some reason that disappointed me. I'm not conceited enough to advertise my blog but I am conceited enough to be disappointed in the traffic it gets.
Plus the big story these days are the frequent outbursts from Rome and I, increasingly, have little interest in that but since I have a blog, I feel compelled to say something rational. The Pope's smarter than I am. He's been to Pope school and all that. The Cardinals that chatter about his mumbling are smarter than I am as well. They went to Cardinal School. If they can't figure it out then I'm not sure I even want to try. The wisest thing I can say is "God gave us Francis to cure us of ultramontanism".
I've also felt the urge to make objective, sometimes objectionable, comments about my local parish. I've gone to some lengths to avoid identifying information, but it's uncharitable and pointless (they aren't going to change anything because of my dyspeptic mutterings).
So all in all, the Blog was doing no good and it wasn't doing me any good either.
Over and out.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Monday, July 18, 2016
What is a homily?
I posted this a couple of months ago. It is my feeling that Christianity is not doing enough to speak to the issues that people face today. Instead we offer bland platitudes. When things go bad we say "we'll pray for you" and when things go well we say "God is good". Sometimes we'll reverse that and say "God is good" when things go bad just to sound profound. None of which rises above the level of insight you'd get from a Hallmark greeting card.
One of the guys at RCIA likes to tell a story about a sermon he heard one time from Bishop Galante who picked up the Bible and said "The words written in this Bible are more current than the words written on the paper on your doorstep this morning." That's a pretty powerful statement about the relevance of God's word in our lives. If we say that God's Word is alive, then it is in motion. It is constantly stretching Itself (or actually "Himself") into new corners of our world the way that a tree's roots expand into the soil where it's planted.
Last week someone animated by the anger of the Black Lives Matter movement killed five police officers in Dallas and injured nine others. The readings that weekend were about the Good Samaritan which starts with a pointed question: "Who is my neighbor?". One would think that such a reading coming only a few days after a public shooting and the outpouring of grief and anger would prove a rich ground for explaining how Christianity can speak to today's world. If the words of the Bible are "more current than the words written on the paper on your doorstep" then surely there's something to learn from this. We could consider, for instance
So let's take a look at the history. Justin Martyr wrote about the Mass in the Second Century. He mentions in his First Apology that And on the day called Sunday,(1) all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things.
Justin Martry was born in 100AD and died in 165AD. So we was roughly one-hundred years removed from the events of Jesus' time. He was born in Samaria and lived in the post-Temple era. That means that when he was alive there were no Sadducees. The fight between the Jews and the Samaritans was pretty much over because both sides "lost" to the Romans. The Pharisees were the only surviving branch of Judaism and they were scattered. He simply lived in a different era. Things like "Temple Sacrifice" had a historical, but not emotional impact on him. The situation of Jesus' time was relatively fresh: the language would be familiar and the geographical setting would be familiar, but the exact situation would be only known in family verbal history.
In his apology, he doesn't say "The president explains what a 'Sadducee' is and why Jesus was so mad at them". He doesn't say "The president explains where Jesus landed on the Pharisee/Sadducee divide". He doesn't say "The president explains why Jesus is taking the side of the Samaritans, proving that we're better than the Jews". Those concerns were history. Instead "The president verbally instructs and exhorts to the imitation of these good things."
Indeed, in Luke's Gospel, you may notice that Luke never mentions such things as "Pharisees", "Levites", or "Sadducees". Luke was writing to a gentile audience, so he just called them all "Jews" because the finer shades of distinction don't matter.
But that's all we care about. Who were the Samaritans? Who were the Herodians? What did Jesus think of the Temple? What year was Daniel written? Who were the Phillipians? Did Peter really write the letters with his name on them?
It's obvious why Catholic priests and Deacons do this. They are hiding behind the Bible. Trained from an early age to avoid confrontation, they quickly realize that the Bible doesn't have much to say about Abortion, Contraception, Global Warming, gay marriage or Barack Obama. Actually, it does have a few things to say about some of those things but we can cleverly snip those out of our Sunday readings. So historical analysis of the various factions at work in Jesus' day takes the place of any kind of thoughtful words that apply to the world we live in. Christianity is reduced to a historical preservation society.
So, in Justin Martyr's day, the post-Gospel exhortation was an indication as to how to hear and apply the Gospel. And today the post-Gospel exhortation is still about how people in the first or second century would hear and apply the Gospel.
I guess Bishop Galante was wrong. The newspaper and TV is the place to learn about navigating world today. We can put down the Bible and pick up Rolling Stone and National Review, depending on our preference.
One of the guys at RCIA likes to tell a story about a sermon he heard one time from Bishop Galante who picked up the Bible and said "The words written in this Bible are more current than the words written on the paper on your doorstep this morning." That's a pretty powerful statement about the relevance of God's word in our lives. If we say that God's Word is alive, then it is in motion. It is constantly stretching Itself (or actually "Himself") into new corners of our world the way that a tree's roots expand into the soil where it's planted.
Last week someone animated by the anger of the Black Lives Matter movement killed five police officers in Dallas and injured nine others. The readings that weekend were about the Good Samaritan which starts with a pointed question: "Who is my neighbor?". One would think that such a reading coming only a few days after a public shooting and the outpouring of grief and anger would prove a rich ground for explaining how Christianity can speak to today's world. If the words of the Bible are "more current than the words written on the paper on your doorstep" then surely there's something to learn from this. We could consider, for instance
- Who's my neighbor?
- Would the Black Lives Matter protestors consider the Police to be their neighbors? Should they?
- Would the Police consider the Black Lives Matter protestors to be their neighbors? Should they?
- What do the rest of the citizens make of those groups? A pox on both their houses?
- What about racism in America? Do we focus on every real and perceived incident of racism, just get over it because it's not as bad as Jim Crow or forget about it all to form a united front against ISIS?
So let's take a look at the history. Justin Martyr wrote about the Mass in the Second Century. He mentions in his First Apology that And on the day called Sunday,(1) all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as time permits; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things.
Justin Martry was born in 100AD and died in 165AD. So we was roughly one-hundred years removed from the events of Jesus' time. He was born in Samaria and lived in the post-Temple era. That means that when he was alive there were no Sadducees. The fight between the Jews and the Samaritans was pretty much over because both sides "lost" to the Romans. The Pharisees were the only surviving branch of Judaism and they were scattered. He simply lived in a different era. Things like "Temple Sacrifice" had a historical, but not emotional impact on him. The situation of Jesus' time was relatively fresh: the language would be familiar and the geographical setting would be familiar, but the exact situation would be only known in family verbal history.
In his apology, he doesn't say "The president explains what a 'Sadducee' is and why Jesus was so mad at them". He doesn't say "The president explains where Jesus landed on the Pharisee/Sadducee divide". He doesn't say "The president explains why Jesus is taking the side of the Samaritans, proving that we're better than the Jews". Those concerns were history. Instead "The president verbally instructs and exhorts to the imitation of these good things."
Indeed, in Luke's Gospel, you may notice that Luke never mentions such things as "Pharisees", "Levites", or "Sadducees". Luke was writing to a gentile audience, so he just called them all "Jews" because the finer shades of distinction don't matter.
But that's all we care about. Who were the Samaritans? Who were the Herodians? What did Jesus think of the Temple? What year was Daniel written? Who were the Phillipians? Did Peter really write the letters with his name on them?
It's obvious why Catholic priests and Deacons do this. They are hiding behind the Bible. Trained from an early age to avoid confrontation, they quickly realize that the Bible doesn't have much to say about Abortion, Contraception, Global Warming, gay marriage or Barack Obama. Actually, it does have a few things to say about some of those things but we can cleverly snip those out of our Sunday readings. So historical analysis of the various factions at work in Jesus' day takes the place of any kind of thoughtful words that apply to the world we live in. Christianity is reduced to a historical preservation society.
So, in Justin Martyr's day, the post-Gospel exhortation was an indication as to how to hear and apply the Gospel. And today the post-Gospel exhortation is still about how people in the first or second century would hear and apply the Gospel.
I guess Bishop Galante was wrong. The newspaper and TV is the place to learn about navigating world today. We can put down the Bible and pick up Rolling Stone and National Review, depending on our preference.
Saturday, July 9, 2016
Why do I Care?
Last week I watched an episode of Mother Angelica where she, in an offhand way, commented on the human tendency to point out the flaws of others. There's a lot of irony on display there: Mother Angelica was never shy to point out the flaws of others, and by cautioning us not to point out flaws of others she was, in fact, pointing out our own flaws.
In light of the past couple of years dealing with Pope Francis I'd been reflecting on this and related issues and I keep coming back to the question: Why Do I Care? Pope Francis is, rightly or wrongly, portrayed as an indulgent grandfatherly figure who can't really be bothered to call a sin a sin. That's not true: he insults people all the time and he's always encouraging people to go to confession. But it's clear that he has preached "mercy" to the point that a lot of people wonder if there are indeed any consequences of sin.
But why do I care about that? He's the Pope. He has the power to bind and loose. He can say whatever he wants. Why should I get worked up about it?
Two images come to mind. My young niece and nephew (aged 2 and 3 at the time) were arguing and their mother was losing her patience and told my niece (who was instigating the conflict) that if "If you don't stop by the time I count to three, you're getting a spanking!" In characteristic fashion, she counted to three very slowly. Too slowly for my nephew who finally exploded "Say 'three' and spank her!" Do I secretly want the Pope to smack down those whose sins I don't approve of? Do I want him to direct his considerable venom towards my political or cultural foes? Am I, in fact, acting like a three-year old?
The other image that frequently comes to mind is actually my favorite parable:
In fact, I consider myself rather libertarian in my cultural outlook. I don't actually much care what people do for a living or how they live their lives. I have a skill of minding my own business. I like to think that I encourage people to be kind and generous through my own example, but I have to admit my track record of actual evangelization is pretty poor. So if I'm happy that I get to sneak in at the last minute, why should I care if the institutional Church seems to be giving a pass to other people?
Let's say Francis' critics are right: that he doesn't care about marriage and would prefer that annulments were automatic upon the grant of a divorce in civil courts. For that matter, why get married at all? He thinks people living together are just as married as people who stood before the altar to say "I do". Even though he wrote a book called the Joy of Love, he doesn't see much joy in love and wants to make it as easy as possible to enter into a relationship and as easy as possible to get out of said relationship when the joy is gone.
Why do I care about that?
By this time, you may be expecting a profound answer, but I'm actually still trying to figure it out.
What our society consists of now is what H. Richard Niebuhr famously described as “A God without wrath brought men without sin into a Kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a Cross.” It is succinctly summarized by the post-modern phrase "spiritual but not religious". God is great, if we even believe in Him, but it's simply enough to call on Him, if we believe in Him, during times of trial. There's no commitment on our part is required. We don't have to go to Church, don't have to change our lives or anything. Maybe we post a meme on Facebook once in a while to show we're spiritual. But if not, that's OK too.
That doesn't sound right to me. In my reading of the Bible, and the lives of the saints and my own life, I've concluded that conversion requires accepting Jesus and a change in your life. I believe "repent" is one of the more common words on Jesus' lips and "repent" doesn't just mean saying "my bad" and going on, it means changing your life so as to not fall into sin again.
It seems that the Church has stopped preaching that. It seems that the Church, itself, is now "spiritual but not religious".
Part of me, it must be said, is jealous. I changed my life, so other people need to change their lives too. When my nephew said "Say 'three' and spank her" he was speaking as one who'd been spanked himself more than once and wanted the same punishment meted out to his sister. I can say a lot of things like "justice requires this" and I can express a philanthropic wish that all men be saved and the way of salvation requires a change of heart and a change of heart is expressed through a change of life. But the real reason is: I had to do it, you have to as well.
My life is a whole lot better since I turned away from my past sins, and I anticipate it will be better still when I turn away from my present sins. And I do want everyone else to experience the joy that I have, and I do feel that this means changing your life. "There's nothing worse than a reformed sinner" as they say. So it's not totally wrong to say I am worried about the state of my neighbor's souls, but mostly I just don't want them getting off easy.
Another thing that strikes me is an idea that I picked up from the lives of the saints. A sin is a sin. The sin can be forgiven, but it's still a sin, and God doesn't like sins. And I don't want God to be angry, especially not at me but also not at my neighbor. When the lightening bolt hits him, I might get burned by the shrapnel. By proactively dismissing or explaining away the presence of sin, I think the Church is welcoming towards people (in the sense of getting them in the door) but I think it is also getting very close to saying "this is not a sin" rather than "this is a sin that can be forgiven".
Another thing that strikes me is that in the parable above, the workers chosen at the last hour actually worked for an hour. The land owner didn't just walk through the marketplace and say "Well, you didn't know I was hiring and that's not your fault, so here's a day's wages anyway." No, (1) he called them and (2) they followed and (3) they did the work. That makes sense to me. Perhaps I'm too linear in my thinking. To short circuit that and say "well, we didn't tell anyone about sin for the past few decades, so we can hardly blame them if they fall into sin" is to engage in a dangerous line of thought that Joseph Ratzinger dealt with in On Conscience.
Another thing, probably the most obvious thing, is that this world is awful. As I write this the city of Dallas is still reeling from a sniper eager to start a race war who opened fire on an otherwise peaceful demonstration. Before the bodies were cold, people were already spreading memes on Facebook and Twitter about how the shootings would impact the current president and the people running to replace him. Yeah, five people lost their lives, but the real victim is Donald Trump, or Barack Obama. I'd like to think that if the Church spent a little more time calling people to a holy life and a little less time looking for loopholes in the Church's teaching our world might be a little bit better. It won't be paradise, but perhaps we can avoid some of the more egregious public displays of Original Sin.
So there you have it. Part of me is an immature three-year old and part of me is a disciple of a German Theologian who went on to be Pope and part of me wants relief from a society gone mad.
In light of the past couple of years dealing with Pope Francis I'd been reflecting on this and related issues and I keep coming back to the question: Why Do I Care? Pope Francis is, rightly or wrongly, portrayed as an indulgent grandfatherly figure who can't really be bothered to call a sin a sin. That's not true: he insults people all the time and he's always encouraging people to go to confession. But it's clear that he has preached "mercy" to the point that a lot of people wonder if there are indeed any consequences of sin.
But why do I care about that? He's the Pope. He has the power to bind and loose. He can say whatever he wants. Why should I get worked up about it?
Two images come to mind. My young niece and nephew (aged 2 and 3 at the time) were arguing and their mother was losing her patience and told my niece (who was instigating the conflict) that if "If you don't stop by the time I count to three, you're getting a spanking!" In characteristic fashion, she counted to three very slowly. Too slowly for my nephew who finally exploded "Say 'three' and spank her!" Do I secretly want the Pope to smack down those whose sins I don't approve of? Do I want him to direct his considerable venom towards my political or cultural foes? Am I, in fact, acting like a three-year old?
The other image that frequently comes to mind is actually my favorite parable:
I've always imagined that I'm one of the people chosen towards the end of the day, and I'm happy that I don't have to settle for just a small slice of heaven because of my late turn to the Lord.Matthew 20:1-16New American Bible (Revised Edition) (NABRE)
The Workers in the Vineyard.[a] 1 “The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out at dawn to hire laborers for his vineyard. 2 After agreeing with them for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. 3 Going out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, 4 [b]and he said to them, ‘You too go into my vineyard, and I will give you what is just.’ 5 So they went off. [And] he went out again around noon, and around three o’clock, and did likewise. 6 Going out about five o’clock, he found others standing around, and said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’ 7 They answered, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You too go into my vineyard.’ 8 [c]When it was evening the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Summon the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and ending with the first.’ 9 When those who had started about five o’clock came, each received the usual daily wage. 10 So when the first came, they thought that they would receive more, but each of them also got the usual wage. 11 And on receiving it they grumbled against the landowner, 12 saying, ‘These last ones worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us, who bore the day’s burden and the heat.’ 13 He said to one of them in reply, ‘My friend, I am not cheating you.[d] Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? 14 [e]Take what is yours and go. What if I wish to give this last one the same as you? 15 [Or] am I not free to do as I wish with my own money? Are you envious because I am generous?’ 16 [f]Thus, the last will be first, and the first will be last.”
In fact, I consider myself rather libertarian in my cultural outlook. I don't actually much care what people do for a living or how they live their lives. I have a skill of minding my own business. I like to think that I encourage people to be kind and generous through my own example, but I have to admit my track record of actual evangelization is pretty poor. So if I'm happy that I get to sneak in at the last minute, why should I care if the institutional Church seems to be giving a pass to other people?
Let's say Francis' critics are right: that he doesn't care about marriage and would prefer that annulments were automatic upon the grant of a divorce in civil courts. For that matter, why get married at all? He thinks people living together are just as married as people who stood before the altar to say "I do". Even though he wrote a book called the Joy of Love, he doesn't see much joy in love and wants to make it as easy as possible to enter into a relationship and as easy as possible to get out of said relationship when the joy is gone.
Why do I care about that?
By this time, you may be expecting a profound answer, but I'm actually still trying to figure it out.
What our society consists of now is what H. Richard Niebuhr famously described as “A God without wrath brought men without sin into a Kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a Cross.” It is succinctly summarized by the post-modern phrase "spiritual but not religious". God is great, if we even believe in Him, but it's simply enough to call on Him, if we believe in Him, during times of trial. There's no commitment on our part is required. We don't have to go to Church, don't have to change our lives or anything. Maybe we post a meme on Facebook once in a while to show we're spiritual. But if not, that's OK too.
That doesn't sound right to me. In my reading of the Bible, and the lives of the saints and my own life, I've concluded that conversion requires accepting Jesus and a change in your life. I believe "repent" is one of the more common words on Jesus' lips and "repent" doesn't just mean saying "my bad" and going on, it means changing your life so as to not fall into sin again.
It seems that the Church has stopped preaching that. It seems that the Church, itself, is now "spiritual but not religious".
Part of me, it must be said, is jealous. I changed my life, so other people need to change their lives too. When my nephew said "Say 'three' and spank her" he was speaking as one who'd been spanked himself more than once and wanted the same punishment meted out to his sister. I can say a lot of things like "justice requires this" and I can express a philanthropic wish that all men be saved and the way of salvation requires a change of heart and a change of heart is expressed through a change of life. But the real reason is: I had to do it, you have to as well.
My life is a whole lot better since I turned away from my past sins, and I anticipate it will be better still when I turn away from my present sins. And I do want everyone else to experience the joy that I have, and I do feel that this means changing your life. "There's nothing worse than a reformed sinner" as they say. So it's not totally wrong to say I am worried about the state of my neighbor's souls, but mostly I just don't want them getting off easy.
Another thing that strikes me is an idea that I picked up from the lives of the saints. A sin is a sin. The sin can be forgiven, but it's still a sin, and God doesn't like sins. And I don't want God to be angry, especially not at me but also not at my neighbor. When the lightening bolt hits him, I might get burned by the shrapnel. By proactively dismissing or explaining away the presence of sin, I think the Church is welcoming towards people (in the sense of getting them in the door) but I think it is also getting very close to saying "this is not a sin" rather than "this is a sin that can be forgiven".
Another thing that strikes me is that in the parable above, the workers chosen at the last hour actually worked for an hour. The land owner didn't just walk through the marketplace and say "Well, you didn't know I was hiring and that's not your fault, so here's a day's wages anyway." No, (1) he called them and (2) they followed and (3) they did the work. That makes sense to me. Perhaps I'm too linear in my thinking. To short circuit that and say "well, we didn't tell anyone about sin for the past few decades, so we can hardly blame them if they fall into sin" is to engage in a dangerous line of thought that Joseph Ratzinger dealt with in On Conscience.
I first became aware of the question with all its urgency in the beginning of my academic teaching. In the course of a dispute, a senior colleague, who was keenly aware of the plight of being Christian in our times, expressed the opinion that one should actually be grateful to God that He allows there to be so many unbelievers in good conscience. For if their eyes were opened and they became believers, they would not be capable, in this world of ours, of bearing the burden of faith with all its moral obligations. But as it is, since they can go another way in good conscience, they can still reach salvation.
What shocked me about this assertion was not in the first place the idea of an erroneous conscience given by God Himself in order to save men by means of such artfulness—the idea, so to speak, of a blindness sent by God for the salvation of those in question. What disturbed me was the notion it harbored that faith is a burden that can hardly be borne and that was, no doubt, intended only for stronger natures—faith almost as a kind of punishment—in any case, an imposition not easily coped with.
According to this view, faith would not make salvation easier but harder. Being happy would mean not being burdened with having to believe or having to submit to the moral yoke of the faith of the Catholic Church. The erroneous conscience, which makes life easier and marks a more human course, would then be the real grace, the normal way to salvation. Untruth, keeping truth at bay, would be better for man than truth. It would not be the truth that would set him free, but rather he would have to be freed from the truth. Man would be more at home in the dark than in the light. Faith would not be the good gift of the good God but instead an affliction.
If this were the state of affairs, how could faith give rise to joy? Who would have the courage to pass faith on to others? Would it not be better to spare them the truth or even keep them from it? In the last few decades, notions of this sort have discernibly crippled the disposition to evangelize. The one who sees the faith as a heavy burden or as a moral imposition is unable to invite others to believe. Rather, he lets them be, in the putative freedom of their good consciences.But I do think Faith gives rise to Joy. I honestly can't explain why, anymore than I can explain why I love my wife. But it does and to hear people mess around with that offends me in the way that someone might argue with me over a matter of mathematics or geography. The facts are the facts.
Ratzinger, Joseph Cardinal (2010-11-19). On Conscience (Bioethics & Culture) (pp. 13-15). Ignatius Press. Kindle Edition.
Another thing, probably the most obvious thing, is that this world is awful. As I write this the city of Dallas is still reeling from a sniper eager to start a race war who opened fire on an otherwise peaceful demonstration. Before the bodies were cold, people were already spreading memes on Facebook and Twitter about how the shootings would impact the current president and the people running to replace him. Yeah, five people lost their lives, but the real victim is Donald Trump, or Barack Obama. I'd like to think that if the Church spent a little more time calling people to a holy life and a little less time looking for loopholes in the Church's teaching our world might be a little bit better. It won't be paradise, but perhaps we can avoid some of the more egregious public displays of Original Sin.
So there you have it. Part of me is an immature three-year old and part of me is a disciple of a German Theologian who went on to be Pope and part of me wants relief from a society gone mad.
Friday, July 1, 2016
A good way to start a long weekend
Mother Angelica famously referred to the "Electric Church" of the 1970's and 1980's: "Every time you go, you get a shock!" I've been getting a lot of shocks lately so I'm insulating myself with a trip to Mater Dei tonight for the First Friday Sacred Heart vigil. My friend's cancer is back and he needs some prayers and I need some time with My Lord that's not mediated by Baptist hymnody during Communion, an urgent appeal to go on an ACTS retreat, the William Shatner School of Overacting rendition of Paul's Letter to the Romans or my pewmate's play-by-play recap of his dialysis.
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Rocking the Paradise
My wife and I saw Dennis DeYoung tonight at the Wildflower Festival. At 69 years old, we thought he should change his name to Dennis DeOld (ba-dum-dump!). Dennis DeYoung was the lead singer of Styx, a rock group that probably took itself a little too seriously in the 1970's and 1980's, but they were talented and wrote a number of great songs, all of which DeYoung is now playing on his tour.
Several of the songs came from Styx's 1981 concept album Paradise Theater. Paradise Theater was a real theater in Chicago that opened in 1928 and closed in 1958. The opening song A.D. 1928 depicts the owners' buoyant optimism that greeting the opening of the theater.
The populist goes on:
Back to Paradise. The Paradise Theater was designed for silent films and therefore had horrible acoustics. The Theater opened almost simultaneously with the opening of the Paradise, "talkies" were introduced and the era of silent movies ended. The miserable acoustics of The Paradise doomed it to second-class status and by the 1950s' it was bankrupt. The story of a Theater called "Paradise" that was opulent and elegant but doomed to failure was too powerful a metaphor for a socially-conscience band like Styx to pass up and they used the Theater as a metaphor for the changes going on in America in the 1970s and 1980s.
If the beginning of the album depicts optimism at the opening of the Paradise the middle of the album depicts desperation. One of the middle songs is titled "Nothing Ever Goes as Planned" and indeed it doesn't. The populist fervor of the opening seems naive and misguided. We can't focus on enemies ("big shots, crackpots, bending the rules") when we ourselves are flawed.
Towards the end of the "middle" of the album, there's a little spoken dramatic interlude. Someone is inside the theater playing a saxaphone and his neighbor complains about the noise.
Why do I go through all this? It was a rock concert after all, and I was more interested in the skill of the guitar player than I was in the moral theme of the music (the guitar player was very good, he looked like and sounded like a young Tommy Shaw). I bring it up because everyone longs for a paradise, and the idea of a broken down paradise is indelible in the popular imagination. Perhaps "paradise" was some time in your youth. Perhaps it was some era inhabited by your parents or grandparents or ancesters in the old country. Things suck today, but boy if we only lived then we'd be set!
When we got married, there was another popular song that I'd like to bring up here. Right Here Right Now by Jesus Jones.
But regardless, Right Here Right Now is more generational hubris. Who cares what Bob Dylan said in the 1960s? It's today, man! Yesterday's gone.
(these are all very favorite songs of mine)
I guess my point is that we can't pine for the good old days. And we can't idolize the present or the perceived future. We have to learn from the past and take what was good and true and apply it to the problems we have today. Every era has it's own technological challenges and solutions and it's own cultural clashes. Moral decay from one generation can poison another generation and moral renewal in one generation may not bear fruit until that generation is dead and buried. Generational pride is a tool of the devil to pit one generation against another. Waiting for the world to "wake up from history" is to wait for the old generation to give up and admit it lost.
Paradise won't be in our grasp until we experience it in Heaven. Attempts to build paradise on Earth are doomed to failure at best and occasionally lead to war and genocide. By ourselves we are unable discern what should be kept from a previous generation and what should be handed on to the next. Pride and competition blinds us to the good and bad that exists in all eras. The only way to tell what should be preserved and what should be discarded is a moral wisdom that transcends generations. We can't "wake up from history" we need guidance from the Author of history. And we need humility to know that we're not the pinnacle of human advancement. We'll get a few things right, but the the older generation will look at us and despair at the future and the younger generation will look at us and despair at the past.
Several of the songs came from Styx's 1981 concept album Paradise Theater. Paradise Theater was a real theater in Chicago that opened in 1928 and closed in 1958. The opening song A.D. 1928 depicts the owners' buoyant optimism that greeting the opening of the theater.
Tonight's the night we'll make history, as sure as dogs can flyThe Paradise Theater opened in 1928, the year before the Great Depression hit. The "darkest skies" in the opening stanza are yet to come. And they start to appear in the next song Rocking the Paradise. It opens with a populist appeal.
And I'll take any risk to tie back the hands of time
And stay with you here all night
So take your seats and don't be late, we need your spirits high
To turn on these theatre lights and brighten the darkest skies
Here at the Paradise....
So whatcha doin' tonight?That opening line is actually one of the great lines in all rock music "Whatcha doing tonight? Have you heard that the world's gone crazy?" I've thought that often as I watch the political process in the US, ISIS in the Middle East and Europe, spiraling debt around the world and on and on.
Have you heard that the world's gone crazy?
Young Americans listen when I say
There's people puttin' us down
I know they're sayin' that we've gone lazy
To tell you the truth we've all seen better days
Don't need no fast buck lame duck profits for fun
Quick trick plans, take the money and run
We need long term, slow burn, getting it done
And some straight talking, hard working son of a gun.
The populist goes on:
Whatcha doin' tonight?
I got faith in our generation
Let's stick together and futurize our attitudes
I ain't lookin' to fight, but I know with determination
We can challenge the schemers who cheat all the rules
Come on take pride, be wise, spottin' the foolsDennis DeYoung, at 69 years old sang those words tonight: "I got faith in our generation". Of course people singing it today are a completely different generation. They might wonder if his generation actually did anything useful. I'm reminded (as a diversion) of another song that came out in the 1980's by Genesis, Land of Illusion.
No more big shots, crackpots bending the rules
A fair shot here for me and for you
Knowing that we can't lose
I won't be coming home tonight"My generation will put it right". The hubris of it all.
My generation will put it right
We're not just making promises
That we know, we'll never keep.
Back to Paradise. The Paradise Theater was designed for silent films and therefore had horrible acoustics. The Theater opened almost simultaneously with the opening of the Paradise, "talkies" were introduced and the era of silent movies ended. The miserable acoustics of The Paradise doomed it to second-class status and by the 1950s' it was bankrupt. The story of a Theater called "Paradise" that was opulent and elegant but doomed to failure was too powerful a metaphor for a socially-conscience band like Styx to pass up and they used the Theater as a metaphor for the changes going on in America in the 1970s and 1980s.
If the beginning of the album depicts optimism at the opening of the Paradise the middle of the album depicts desperation. One of the middle songs is titled "Nothing Ever Goes as Planned" and indeed it doesn't. The populist fervor of the opening seems naive and misguided. We can't focus on enemies ("big shots, crackpots, bending the rules") when we ourselves are flawed.
Towards the end of the "middle" of the album, there's a little spoken dramatic interlude. Someone is inside the theater playing a saxaphone and his neighbor complains about the noise.
Hey , hey out there knock it off will ya?The Paradise is closed at this point. The idealism that greeting it's opening has been replaced by selfishness and greed. This is neatly summarized in one the last song Half Penny Two Penny
Hey give it a rest will ya? I'm tryin' to get some sleep!
Want me to call the cops?
I tell ya Erma I can't till next week when they start to tear that damn old theatre down.
Half penny, two penny, gold krugerrandStyx was from Chicago and they were probably familiar with "Justice for money". Of course, the song was written in the early 1980s. This was the era of the Yuppie, when "conspicuous consumption" became a topic of discussion and when BMW cars were so ubiquitous that their nickname "Beemer" became an everyday word.
He was exceedingly rich for such a young man
Sad story, old story
Bring out the band
Another divorce just a few hundred grand
Half penny, two penny, back of the queue
Yes mister poor man this means you
Justice for money what can you say
We all know it's the American way
Why do I go through all this? It was a rock concert after all, and I was more interested in the skill of the guitar player than I was in the moral theme of the music (the guitar player was very good, he looked like and sounded like a young Tommy Shaw). I bring it up because everyone longs for a paradise, and the idea of a broken down paradise is indelible in the popular imagination. Perhaps "paradise" was some time in your youth. Perhaps it was some era inhabited by your parents or grandparents or ancesters in the old country. Things suck today, but boy if we only lived then we'd be set!
When we got married, there was another popular song that I'd like to bring up here. Right Here Right Now by Jesus Jones.
A woman on the radio talks about revolution
When it's already passed her by
Bob Dylan didn't have this to sing about you
You know it feels good to be alive
The third line sticks with me: when I heard the song I always thought the singer was saying "Bob Dylan didn't have to sing this for you". Meaning, you don't need your oracle to tell you the obvious: it's good to be alive.I was alive and I waited, waited
I was alive and I waited for thisRight here, right now, there is no other place I wanna be
Right here, right now, watching the world wake up from history
But regardless, Right Here Right Now is more generational hubris. Who cares what Bob Dylan said in the 1960s? It's today, man! Yesterday's gone.
(these are all very favorite songs of mine)
I guess my point is that we can't pine for the good old days. And we can't idolize the present or the perceived future. We have to learn from the past and take what was good and true and apply it to the problems we have today. Every era has it's own technological challenges and solutions and it's own cultural clashes. Moral decay from one generation can poison another generation and moral renewal in one generation may not bear fruit until that generation is dead and buried. Generational pride is a tool of the devil to pit one generation against another. Waiting for the world to "wake up from history" is to wait for the old generation to give up and admit it lost.
Paradise won't be in our grasp until we experience it in Heaven. Attempts to build paradise on Earth are doomed to failure at best and occasionally lead to war and genocide. By ourselves we are unable discern what should be kept from a previous generation and what should be handed on to the next. Pride and competition blinds us to the good and bad that exists in all eras. The only way to tell what should be preserved and what should be discarded is a moral wisdom that transcends generations. We can't "wake up from history" we need guidance from the Author of history. And we need humility to know that we're not the pinnacle of human advancement. We'll get a few things right, but the the older generation will look at us and despair at the future and the younger generation will look at us and despair at the past.
Thursday, May 5, 2016
The Benedict Option, again
Last year I had some rambling words about the Benedict Option and Dominican Option in the Church. I've been thinking about it some more lately and I'm starting to tilt a bit towards the Benedict Option. Here are my reasons.
1) There needs to be a community to maintain tradition. In the light of history, this is obvious. Like-minded people live together. Read your Old Testament. When the Assyrians and Babylonians conquered the Jewish states, the first thing they did was scatter the Jews. In the case of the Assyrians, they scattered them so effectively that eventually the Israelites were assimilated out of existence. In the case of the Babylonians, the Jews were apparently able to maintain enough cohesion to keep their identity, but they also were "only" in exile for a generation before a more tolerant regime took over.
The Jews were enslaved in Egypt for a long time, but lived in a tight community and were able to maintain at least a semblance of identity. When Moses showed up, they needed to be re-instructed in the faith and were in a sad shape. Hundreds of years of slavery will do that to a people. But what if they didn't live in a community? What if they were broken up and scattered across the Egyptian kingdom? Surely they wouldn't have even remembered they were Jews.
Today the faithful find themselves atomized. After eight years of Barack Obama, I think it's safe to say that the United States is a secular post-Christian country. Faithful Christians find themselves surrounded by nominal Christians, post-Christians, atheists, agnostics, Nones, do-it-yourself spiritualists, and increasingly Buddhists, Hindus and Muslims. And with every generation, the culture waters down the convictions of the faithful even more. The faithful are being assimilated out of existence.
2) The era of rational dialog is over. Jonathan Swift famously said "It is useless to attempt to reason a man out of a thing he was never reasoned into." We've seen over and over again the irrational protests sweeping the universities, Occupy Wall Street, protests over perceived racism, sexism, "privilege" of every sort. These people cannot be reasoned with. Even the thought of a conservative speaker on campus is enough to send people to their safe space. If they won't even let the conservative talk, how is the conservative going to persuade anyone?
We are not dealing with ideas or philosophies that are arrived at by logic, trial and error, open discussion of experience with how said ideas have been implemented in the past. We're dealing with emotional, irrational outbursts based on tribalism and populism ("Our people are great! You people suck!") You can't break that with Aristotle or Aquinas. You can't break it at all. You just have to wait for the storm to blow over.
And if you do try to break through with your morality based on your traditions, you will do it alone. None of the major political parties will stand up to the LGBT community. None will take meaningful steps to reduce abortion. No significant network on TV will promote virtue. Conservative talk show hosts on the radio are typically on their 2nd or 3rd wives and are neutral at best towards gay marriage.
No help is coming from within the Church, either. The Catholic Bishops in the US are famously squeamish about cultural issues. And when they do pull their cumberbunds up to give a talk on social issues, they cloak them behind morally neutral language. We are told to speak of "religious liberty" when speaking about Church entities being forced to provide contraception. But ... why is contraception coverage a violation of religious liberty? Does that mean the Church thinks contraception is a sin? You'd never know, listening to our leaders, who strenuously avoid the "s" word. That may be a good legal strategy, but it doesn't help the faithful if morality is ignored. It just makes the Church look legalistic -- possibly even narrow and rigid and pharisaical -- because it focuses on legality instead of morality. Why not focus on both?
I have other reasons, but they are subcategories of the two above. Against those problems I offer a number of benefits of a close community of faithful.
1) Mutual reinforcement. We all go through cycles of optimism and pessimism. Getting people together lets the people in their optimist phase cheer up those in their pessimist phase.
2) Respectful engagement. Since we all go through cycles of optimism and pessimism, having everyone together lets the pessimists bring some realism to the optimist point of view. But beyond some vague mutual enrichment, it enables people who are on the same side to disagree with each other. You can speak your mind among friends. To borrow a spoiled phrase from the liberals, it's a "safe space". I attend meetings of the Readers of First Things, and that's the experience. The discussions are intense, but we're all on the same side, so at the end of the evening, we're still friends and there are no hard feelings.
So what do to? In my previous post, I linked to a talk by Father Eric Bergman where he advocates physically moving close to the parish. Of course, you'll have to have the rest of the parishioners do the same. But I would amend that. In the year since I wrote that post I've come around to the idea of parish shopping. If the primary interaction you get with your parish priest is a seven to ten minute homily once per week, then it had better be a good one, or at least not a bad one. I mentioned that the faithful today are atomized, surrounded by a lot of lukewarm Christians and non-Christians. Some of them will be in your parish, which is as it should be: they are being saved just like you. But if one of them is your parish priest or music director or other minister that can make your life miserable, then that's not the community you should be in. Don't waste your time there. It's too dangerous to your soul.
In the extreme case you might have to change dioceses, if one of the lukewarm types is your bishop.
1) There needs to be a community to maintain tradition. In the light of history, this is obvious. Like-minded people live together. Read your Old Testament. When the Assyrians and Babylonians conquered the Jewish states, the first thing they did was scatter the Jews. In the case of the Assyrians, they scattered them so effectively that eventually the Israelites were assimilated out of existence. In the case of the Babylonians, the Jews were apparently able to maintain enough cohesion to keep their identity, but they also were "only" in exile for a generation before a more tolerant regime took over.
The Jews were enslaved in Egypt for a long time, but lived in a tight community and were able to maintain at least a semblance of identity. When Moses showed up, they needed to be re-instructed in the faith and were in a sad shape. Hundreds of years of slavery will do that to a people. But what if they didn't live in a community? What if they were broken up and scattered across the Egyptian kingdom? Surely they wouldn't have even remembered they were Jews.
Today the faithful find themselves atomized. After eight years of Barack Obama, I think it's safe to say that the United States is a secular post-Christian country. Faithful Christians find themselves surrounded by nominal Christians, post-Christians, atheists, agnostics, Nones, do-it-yourself spiritualists, and increasingly Buddhists, Hindus and Muslims. And with every generation, the culture waters down the convictions of the faithful even more. The faithful are being assimilated out of existence.
2) The era of rational dialog is over. Jonathan Swift famously said "It is useless to attempt to reason a man out of a thing he was never reasoned into." We've seen over and over again the irrational protests sweeping the universities, Occupy Wall Street, protests over perceived racism, sexism, "privilege" of every sort. These people cannot be reasoned with. Even the thought of a conservative speaker on campus is enough to send people to their safe space. If they won't even let the conservative talk, how is the conservative going to persuade anyone?
We are not dealing with ideas or philosophies that are arrived at by logic, trial and error, open discussion of experience with how said ideas have been implemented in the past. We're dealing with emotional, irrational outbursts based on tribalism and populism ("Our people are great! You people suck!") You can't break that with Aristotle or Aquinas. You can't break it at all. You just have to wait for the storm to blow over.
And if you do try to break through with your morality based on your traditions, you will do it alone. None of the major political parties will stand up to the LGBT community. None will take meaningful steps to reduce abortion. No significant network on TV will promote virtue. Conservative talk show hosts on the radio are typically on their 2nd or 3rd wives and are neutral at best towards gay marriage.
No help is coming from within the Church, either. The Catholic Bishops in the US are famously squeamish about cultural issues. And when they do pull their cumberbunds up to give a talk on social issues, they cloak them behind morally neutral language. We are told to speak of "religious liberty" when speaking about Church entities being forced to provide contraception. But ... why is contraception coverage a violation of religious liberty? Does that mean the Church thinks contraception is a sin? You'd never know, listening to our leaders, who strenuously avoid the "s" word. That may be a good legal strategy, but it doesn't help the faithful if morality is ignored. It just makes the Church look legalistic -- possibly even narrow and rigid and pharisaical -- because it focuses on legality instead of morality. Why not focus on both?
I have other reasons, but they are subcategories of the two above. Against those problems I offer a number of benefits of a close community of faithful.
1) Mutual reinforcement. We all go through cycles of optimism and pessimism. Getting people together lets the people in their optimist phase cheer up those in their pessimist phase.
2) Respectful engagement. Since we all go through cycles of optimism and pessimism, having everyone together lets the pessimists bring some realism to the optimist point of view. But beyond some vague mutual enrichment, it enables people who are on the same side to disagree with each other. You can speak your mind among friends. To borrow a spoiled phrase from the liberals, it's a "safe space". I attend meetings of the Readers of First Things, and that's the experience. The discussions are intense, but we're all on the same side, so at the end of the evening, we're still friends and there are no hard feelings.
So what do to? In my previous post, I linked to a talk by Father Eric Bergman where he advocates physically moving close to the parish. Of course, you'll have to have the rest of the parishioners do the same. But I would amend that. In the year since I wrote that post I've come around to the idea of parish shopping. If the primary interaction you get with your parish priest is a seven to ten minute homily once per week, then it had better be a good one, or at least not a bad one. I mentioned that the faithful today are atomized, surrounded by a lot of lukewarm Christians and non-Christians. Some of them will be in your parish, which is as it should be: they are being saved just like you. But if one of them is your parish priest or music director or other minister that can make your life miserable, then that's not the community you should be in. Don't waste your time there. It's too dangerous to your soul.
In the extreme case you might have to change dioceses, if one of the lukewarm types is your bishop.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Winning Friends and Influencing Others
In a recent Apostolic Exhortation that received some murmur of attention in the press, we read these beautiful words:
Our Pontiff is certainly trying to reach out to those separated from us. And let's not forget that "pontiff" means "bridge builder". Now the Protestants, Muslims, secularists and -- possibly! -- even the Jesuits will come around to embracing Church Teaching due to the gentle words of our Pope and those that emulate him.
Today's Gospel reading is particularly challenging to the modern skeptic. In today's reading (John 14:6-14), Jesus not only says that he is identical with The Father (affirming the Trinity, at least in part), but Jesus also claims that He is the sole means to gain access to The Father. No goofy indifferentialism or syncretism here! How will our pontiff build bridges to those that don't see eye to eye with us with regards to this challenging passage?
By insulting people.
Love is not rude"Love is not harsh", "Its actions, words and gestures are pleasing and not abrasive or rigid." "live agreeably with those around [us]." It's a bold new approach to the world outside the Church. Gone are the days with St John Paul II and Benedict XVI would publicly scold a poor soul in Latin while the rest of the Cardinals would giggle at his perplexity and shame. No more will the USCCB post cruel caricatures of President Obama on its website. The windows have been thrown open to the world! A new era of engagement built on mutual respect!
99. To love is also to be gentle and thoughtful, and this is conveyed by the next word, aschemonéi. It indicates that love is not rude or impolite; it is not harsh. Its actions, words and gestures are pleasing and not abrasive or rigid. Love abhors making others suffer. Courtesy “is a school of sensitivity and disinterestedness” which requires a person “to develop his or her mind and feelings, learning how to listen, to speak and, at certain times, to keep quiet”.107 It is not something that a Christian may accept or reject. As an essential requirement of love, “every human being is bound to live agreeably with those around him”.108 Every day, “entering into the life of another, even when that person already has a part to play in our life, demands the sensitivity and restraint which can renew trust and respect. Indeed, the deeper love is, the more it calls for respect for the other’s freedom and the ability to wait until the other opens the door to his or her heart”.109
Our Pontiff is certainly trying to reach out to those separated from us. And let's not forget that "pontiff" means "bridge builder". Now the Protestants, Muslims, secularists and -- possibly! -- even the Jesuits will come around to embracing Church Teaching due to the gentle words of our Pope and those that emulate him.
Today's Gospel reading is particularly challenging to the modern skeptic. In today's reading (John 14:6-14), Jesus not only says that he is identical with The Father (affirming the Trinity, at least in part), but Jesus also claims that He is the sole means to gain access to The Father. No goofy indifferentialism or syncretism here! How will our pontiff build bridges to those that don't see eye to eye with us with regards to this challenging passage?
By insulting people.
Pope Francis: Many ‘mummified’ or ‘vagabond’ Christians.
We'll have to rent out the Convention Center for our next RCIA class given the mannerly ecumenical outreach here.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
The dragon is not slain
Indeed. Short and to the point.
http://marymagdalen.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-dragon-is-tamed-not-slain.html
http://marymagdalen.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-dragon-is-tamed-not-slain.html
Evangelism: Give the People What They Want.
I found this article posted at First Things' First Thought's blog. It has much wisdom in it and I've been thinking along similar lines, but have been unable to articulate my thoughts.
I also haven't been able to do enough research to speak confidently on this, but it seems to me that many of the early converts to Christianity converted because Christianity offered something that they wanted or needed.
Other than the last two, these are not bad reasons to convert to Christianity, but they represent a promise, not an actual fact. Slaves may convert, for instance, but unless their masters also convert, their human dignity will only come in the next world.
Accordingly, if we are to evangelize the world today, we need to offer a clear benefit to the world. What are the issues that people complain about in the US? I can think of a few.
There are other ills to be sure. I'd mention "lust" and "envy" but these are the ones that people themselves recognize. They have to be convinced that "lust" and "envy" are problems.
Can Christianity speak to the list above? I think it can. It currently is not. For most problems, people are currently turning to the government instead of the Church for solutions.
It's something to think about. I'll have to ponder it some more before I can figure out what to do.
I also haven't been able to do enough research to speak confidently on this, but it seems to me that many of the early converts to Christianity converted because Christianity offered something that they wanted or needed.
- Slaves converted because Christianity offered human dignity to them
- Women converted because Christianity offered respect.
- Scholars converted because of the philosophical claims of Christianity opened up new avenues of study.
- Constantine converted to win a war, leading to
- Constantine's toadies to convert as a political ploy.
Other than the last two, these are not bad reasons to convert to Christianity, but they represent a promise, not an actual fact. Slaves may convert, for instance, but unless their masters also convert, their human dignity will only come in the next world.
Accordingly, if we are to evangelize the world today, we need to offer a clear benefit to the world. What are the issues that people complain about in the US? I can think of a few.
- A combination of loneliness and overstimulation that comes from electronic communication.
- Stress of the busyness of raising a family.
- Economic uncertainty.
- Dissatisfaction and hopelessness.
- Fear of crime and terrorism.
There are other ills to be sure. I'd mention "lust" and "envy" but these are the ones that people themselves recognize. They have to be convinced that "lust" and "envy" are problems.
Can Christianity speak to the list above? I think it can. It currently is not. For most problems, people are currently turning to the government instead of the Church for solutions.
It's something to think about. I'll have to ponder it some more before I can figure out what to do.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Disappointment
Mother Angelica on disappointment inside and outside the Church.
(that's a strange cover image).
And, while we're at it, Mother Angelica talking about "Let not your hears be troubled"
(that's a strange cover image).
And, while we're at it, Mother Angelica talking about "Let not your hears be troubled"
Saturday, April 16, 2016
Fin de Siecle, part 2
In an earlier post, I wondered who would take the place of Mother Angelica. I still don't know who can replace her witty charm, her wisdom and her ability to connect with people. But I have a nomination for who will continue to use EWTN to hammer heretics: Raymond Arroyo.
As Exhibit A, I submit his memorial episode of The World Over.
There are two notable parts in this video: Mother Angelica's condemnation of the fiasco at World Youth Day in Denver where a woman played Jesus in the Stations of the Cross and her scuffle with Cardinal Mahony. These are significant not only because of what Mother said, but because as far as I know EWTN essentially swept them under the rug. In the case of the Cardinal Mahony flap, EWTN was requested to never play it again, according to the book written by the same Raymond Arroyo. In the case of WYD, I don't know if EWTN deliberately decided not to show it, or if they simply felt that it wasn't relevant anymore since that episode was long past.
When I saw this show, and saw the Cardinal Mahony incident discussed, I couldn't help but get the sense that Raymond Arroyo was making a statement that, even if no one else could take Mother's place, he personally was going to continue her role as Guardian of (small-O)rthodoxy. It's something that he's done in the past with some crisp interviews on his World Over Live show, but it didn't occur to me until this show that he was formally accepting the challenge.
Lead on!
As Exhibit A, I submit his memorial episode of The World Over.
There are two notable parts in this video: Mother Angelica's condemnation of the fiasco at World Youth Day in Denver where a woman played Jesus in the Stations of the Cross and her scuffle with Cardinal Mahony. These are significant not only because of what Mother said, but because as far as I know EWTN essentially swept them under the rug. In the case of the Cardinal Mahony flap, EWTN was requested to never play it again, according to the book written by the same Raymond Arroyo. In the case of WYD, I don't know if EWTN deliberately decided not to show it, or if they simply felt that it wasn't relevant anymore since that episode was long past.
When I saw this show, and saw the Cardinal Mahony incident discussed, I couldn't help but get the sense that Raymond Arroyo was making a statement that, even if no one else could take Mother's place, he personally was going to continue her role as Guardian of (small-O)rthodoxy. It's something that he's done in the past with some crisp interviews on his World Over Live show, but it didn't occur to me until this show that he was formally accepting the challenge.
Lead on!
I've Given up on Amoris Laetitia
I'm only a mortal man. I can't get through it all. I can't even tough it out to get to the juicy part. In fact, I'm just exhausted by the whole subject. Three years, Two Synods, "Five Cardinals" book, an "Eleven Cardinals" book, Kasper's book and a critique of Kasper's book, an entire issue of Communio devoted to the subject and a 300 page non-doctrinal exhortation, not to mention my own 25+ years of marriage and the marriages of my family and friends, and apparently nothing much has changed. And actually, the juicy part affects me very little. In the worst case scenario (or best case, depending on your point of view), Francis leaves that up to the pastor or bishop to decide and I'm neither of those. (Though I suppose I'd be more curious about it if I was divorced.)
So what was the point?
I'm just burned out by the whole subject. I just have no strength to devote to either the document itself or the voluminous commentary about it. I can't get fired up about who's a heretic this week or who's standing up for the faith this week. Marc Barnes, who's a better thinker and writer in his sleep than I am when fully engaged, wrote a relatively modest 1800-word essay on the matter and I couldn't even get all the way through that -- though to be fair I read 1700 of them and enjoyed them all.
This is a grace. Normally I would obsess for weeks about this stuff, but in this case I'm able to worry about other things. Like my life -- my poor hail-damaged roof, my job, my bank account, my family's health, my own health, spiritual attack ... you know, trivial things like that.
I guess that, as a catechist, I'm mainly curious as to whether I need to update any of my talks about marriage and such. But from the sounds of it, I'm not going to get any such advice from this document.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I kind of expect my bishop and pastor to read this stuff and make sense of it and tell me what it means. I mean, they went to priest-school and bishop-school and got enrolled in the hierarchy and all that. I have a Catechism. Unless I need to replace it with a new document from the Vatican, I don't think it's really important for me to keep up with the Pope's latest unfocused commentary. Unless I personally enjoy reading him the way I'd enjoy reading any other author. And, in fact, I do not.
So there.
So what was the point?
I'm just burned out by the whole subject. I just have no strength to devote to either the document itself or the voluminous commentary about it. I can't get fired up about who's a heretic this week or who's standing up for the faith this week. Marc Barnes, who's a better thinker and writer in his sleep than I am when fully engaged, wrote a relatively modest 1800-word essay on the matter and I couldn't even get all the way through that -- though to be fair I read 1700 of them and enjoyed them all.
This is a grace. Normally I would obsess for weeks about this stuff, but in this case I'm able to worry about other things. Like my life -- my poor hail-damaged roof, my job, my bank account, my family's health, my own health, spiritual attack ... you know, trivial things like that.
I guess that, as a catechist, I'm mainly curious as to whether I need to update any of my talks about marriage and such. But from the sounds of it, I'm not going to get any such advice from this document.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I kind of expect my bishop and pastor to read this stuff and make sense of it and tell me what it means. I mean, they went to priest-school and bishop-school and got enrolled in the hierarchy and all that. I have a Catechism. Unless I need to replace it with a new document from the Vatican, I don't think it's really important for me to keep up with the Pope's latest unfocused commentary. Unless I personally enjoy reading him the way I'd enjoy reading any other author. And, in fact, I do not.
So there.
Sunday, April 10, 2016
A partial retraction
Hyperbole is an essence of my writing which, upon reflection, I almost always back away from in the interest of clarity. I don't want people's emotions getting in the way of a message I'm trying to deliver. In the previous post, I can't read a person's soul and certainly don't mean to imply that anyone is in jeopardy of hell due to criticism of this Pope or the office of the Papacy. We are required to give some sort of respectful reception to what comes out of the Magisterium. But whether this or that document rises to the level of "assent of will" or "assent of faith" or "polite applause" or whatever is beyond my ken.
A thought about the Pope's Exhortation
I'm on chapter two of Francis' Joy of Love exhortation. A few days ago I was still on chapter two. However, I've read some of the summaries and commentaries and so I think I know what's ahead, should I choose to continue.
However, the constant carping about it from points various and sundry got my dander up earlier today and I posted a comment on a blog post that reflects my general view about the whole thing.
However, the constant carping about it from points various and sundry got my dander up earlier today and I posted a comment on a blog post that reflects my general view about the whole thing.
People getting worked up about a footnote or a single sentence! There's an old (maybe Protestant) saying: A proof-text without Context is a Pretext. What's the context of the note? Isn't there anything else in the 200+ pages that would guide the interpretation of a single sentence. If your context is that "Francis is a modernist who wants to change church teaching and this sentence is proof.", then you may be correct about Francis, but the proper context OF THIS TEXT is not Francis' personal preferences, but the Magisterium. Francis may want all kinds of things, but we don't read Papal documents in light of off-the cuff statements not protected by the Holy Spirit but on the constant teaching authority of the Church, which is. In 30 years people will read this document blissfully unaware of Francis' verbal diarrhea and only in the context of the documents referenced therein. We should read it the same way.
If the Pope decries gradulism in the law in one part of the document, then he can't be advocating for it in another. He must mean something else (like what kind of baby-steps are necessary to bring people to compliance with the law). Bishop Morlino (no liberal) said that the law of gradualism means that if someone comes up to him and says "I used to be having an affair with 4 women, but now I'm only having an affair with 1 woman" then Bishop Morlino would have to say "that's good! Now let's work on this a little more." THat doesn't mean he lets the adulterer come to Communion. It means he encourages him in the progress he made and encourages him to make it the rest of the way.
I'm sure I'll be hated on now. So I have my asbestos undershorts ready :(
Source
The source of the Bishop Morlino quote is found here, starting around the 44:30 mark.
Since I haven't read the document, I felt a little hesitant about the post, but I figure if I know nothing about it, then I'm at least as qualified as some of the other commenters I'm reading. I also got my example wrong (Bishop Morlino's example was cutting the number of mistresses from 3 to 1) and I had typos in my post, so I'm definitely on the same plane as the other commenters on the interwebs.
The thing is, Pope Francis is not my favorite Pope. I'd prefer if someone else was Pope. But Francis IS Pope, and I AM a Catholic and so I MUST read him in light of the constant teaching of the Church.
The last couple of weeks we were all talking about the passing of Mother Angelica. One of the great stories was about how early on her nuns packaged peanuts to make money. A distributer wanted a kickback to sell the peanuts. In declining to pay the kickback, she said "I'm not going to hell for a peanut." In the same vein, I'm not going to hell for willfully misreading the Pope. I am often confused by the this particular Pope and, almost daily, I'm disappointed by this particular Pope, but the office of the Papacy is a dogma of the Church. My confusion and disappointment can't result in disobedience.
That's the traditional way: obey the Pope. If he says thing you don't understand, then obey the things you DO understand but don't undercut the rest of it. Let someone smarter than you (or more qualified in the case of the bishops) figure it out. That doesn't mean I can't make some good-natured jokes or ask pained questions as a way of blowing off steam. But I must give the Pope -- even this Pope -- the courtesy of reading him in continuity with the Magesterium
There, I said it.
Excellent talk on Resurrection
http://www.instituteofcatholicculture.org/my-lord-and-my-god-evidence-for-the-resurrection-of-christ/
The audio is a little rough at the start. Bear with it. It's a wide-ranging talk about relativism, atheism and Christianity.
The talk references the classic CS Lewis talk "Fern seeds and Elephants", available online here.
Also relevant is Peter Kreeft's classic Evidence of the Resurrection, available here.
The audio is a little rough at the start. Bear with it. It's a wide-ranging talk about relativism, atheism and Christianity.
The talk references the classic CS Lewis talk "Fern seeds and Elephants", available online here.
Also relevant is Peter Kreeft's classic Evidence of the Resurrection, available here.
Monday, March 28, 2016
The National Catholic Reporter agrees with me
Well this is awkward...
In 2011, the new English Translation of the Roman Missal became official, including a new translation of the Exsultet at the Easter Vigil. Notable among the changes in the Exsultet was a reference to the Easter Candle made of wax, "the work of bees".
But 2011 was, after all, only five years ago and it's entirely inappropriate to expect people to actually implement something as radical as changing the Exsultet in such a short period of time. So our humble parish, away from civilization, out in the boonies, with no access to electricity or fancy book-learning, continues with the old, non-apiary focused Exultset. Apparently no one knows the music to the new expanded version. All of our hymns were published by OCP in the 1990s, so that's understandable. But if only some clever person would figure out how to record music so it could be played back as an aid to learning it.
But every spring, the promise of baseball, greening of the leaves and the buzzing of the insects warms the cockles of my cold black, pharisaical, throw-away, pre-Vatican heart and I long to hear about the beautiful bees in the Exsultet. And every year I am disappointed.
Now, even the National Catholic Reporter is praising the bees. The emphasis on environmentalism is a bit stretched, to my mind. But since my parish and diocese regularly reads NcR perhaps next year will be different.
In 2011, the new English Translation of the Roman Missal became official, including a new translation of the Exsultet at the Easter Vigil. Notable among the changes in the Exsultet was a reference to the Easter Candle made of wax, "the work of bees".
But 2011 was, after all, only five years ago and it's entirely inappropriate to expect people to actually implement something as radical as changing the Exsultet in such a short period of time. So our humble parish, away from civilization, out in the boonies, with no access to electricity or fancy book-learning, continues with the old, non-apiary focused Exultset. Apparently no one knows the music to the new expanded version. All of our hymns were published by OCP in the 1990s, so that's understandable. But if only some clever person would figure out how to record music so it could be played back as an aid to learning it.
But every spring, the promise of baseball, greening of the leaves and the buzzing of the insects warms the cockles of my cold black, pharisaical, throw-away, pre-Vatican heart and I long to hear about the beautiful bees in the Exsultet. And every year I am disappointed.
Now, even the National Catholic Reporter is praising the bees. The emphasis on environmentalism is a bit stretched, to my mind. But since my parish and diocese regularly reads NcR perhaps next year will be different.
Fin de Siecle
With the passing of Mother Angelica, it seems even more clear that we've hit the end of an era, at least in America. First our supposedly "conservative" Chief Justice started re-writing law to allow the Obamacare mandate that affected the biggest expansion in government control in the history of the United States. Then Pope Benedict XVI, who ask for prayers that he wouldn't flee from the wolves fled from the wolves and resigned. Then Cardinal Burke got fired. Then our "conservative" Chief Supreme Court Justice decided that the constitution not only allows gay marriage, it requires it. Then our "conservative" political party started playing footsie with a vulgar, adulterous, orange-colored boor as nominee. Then the greatest conservative justice on the Supreme Court died and now Mother Angelica has passed the earth.
Not for the first time, I'm reminded of Yeat's The Second Coming.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Not for the first time, I'm reminded of Yeat's The Second Coming.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Who will take the place of Pope Benedict XVI, Antonin Scalia, and Mother Angelica? The pessimist will say "no one". The optimist will say "we may have lost leaders, but we still have a movement". Wouldn't that be something? A sea of cultural and spiritual conservatives breaking over the sea-wall of liberalism; the head is struck down, yet the flock charges on.
On Twitter, a question was posed: what would you say to new Catholics this Easter? I replied "Don’t get discouraged by “bad” Catholics. We don’t follow pundits or priests. We follow Christ risen." I meant it then, and I mean it today. But it's one thing that there's a fever swamp of bad catholics out there that give the faith a bad name. It's another thing that no one effectively repels it. For every liberal outrage, there may be 100 or 1000 bloggers, Tweeters, Facebookers and so on to rebut the arguments or present an alternative interpretation. But is there anyone that people are forced to take seriously? Like it or not, the media controls the dialog. Is there anyone who the media recognizes as a voice for conservative Catholics? Is there anyone who is in a position of authority who will do something besides issue limp wristed statements when liberal catholics get out of line?
In short, is there anyone in the Catholic Church who will (1) say something like this and (2) be listened to?
(Michael Voris and Father Zuhlsdorf are a "Yes" for the first question but a "No" for the second.)
Mother Angelica put steel in the spine of the US Catholic Bishops. In the 1980s, they were willing collaborators with the liberal agenda of women priests, open marriage and contraception. They reluctantly drew the line at abortion. Mother Angelica's emotional and thoughtful rejection of that nonsense, along with the visible support of the Pope, eventually caused that nonsense to at least go underground. And eventually we got a few Bishops in the mold of Burke, Chaput, Loverde, Morlino and Bruskewitz.
Now our Bishops are "pastoral" and the best conservatives can hope for is benign neglect from the Vatican.
Mother Angelica stepped down from EWTN over a decade ago. Her passing is a symbolic tragedy and not a strategic setback. And that it happened on Easter is inexplicable.
Rest in Peace.
Friday, March 25, 2016
A comfortable faith
I finished The Man Who Was Thursday today. This is a bit from the end of the book. It is a conversation between the same two poets I mentioned a couple of posts back. Gregory is the anarchist and Syme is the poet of order. Gregory, in the novel, is a allegorical representation of Lucifer.
"You!" [Gregory] cried. "You never hated because you never lived. I know what you are all of you, from first to last—you are the people in power! You are the police—the great fat, smiling men in blue and buttons! You are the Law, and you have never been broken. But is there a free soul alive that does not long to break you, only because you have never been broken? We in revolt talk all kind of nonsense doubtless about this crime or that crime of the Government. It is all folly! The only crime of the Government is that it governs. The unpardonable sin of the supreme power is that it is supreme. I do not curse you for being cruel. I do not curse you (though I might) for being kind. I curse you for being safe! You sit in your chairs of stone, and have never come down from them. You are the seven angels of heaven, and you have had no troubles. Oh, I could forgive you everything, you that rule all mankind, if I could feel for once that you had suffered for one hour a real agony such as I—"
Syme sprang to his feet, shaking from head to foot.
"I see everything," he cried, "everything that there is. Why does each thing on the earth war against each other thing? Why does each small thing in the world have to fight against the world itself? Why does a fly have to fight the whole universe? Why does a dandelion have to fight the whole universe? For the same reason that I had to be alone in the dreadful Council of the Days. So that each thing that obeys law may have the glory and isolation of the anarchist. So that each man fighting for order may be as brave and good a man as the dynamiter. So that the real lie of Satan may be flung back in the face of this blasphemer, so that by tears and torture we may earn the right to say to this man, 'You lie!' No agonies can be too great to buy the right to say to this accuser, 'We also have suffered.'
"It is not true that we have never been broken. We have been broken upon the wheel. It is not true that we have never descended from these thrones. We have descended into hell. We were complaining of unforgettable miseries even at the very moment when this man entered insolently to accuse us of happiness. I repel the slander; we have not been happy. I can answer for every one of the great guards of Law whom he has accused."I can't speak for what the situation in England was in 1908, but today I frequently hear that religion is a source of strength and comfort. "Religion is the opiate of the masses" and all that. I suppose that what people mean is that people with faith believe that their fortunes will be improved, if not in this life, then in the next. They may be sleeping in the gutter in this world, but in the next, they will be kings. They may suffer torments from their betters in this world, but their tormentors will be their servants in the next.
Was that ever true? Perhaps in different times and places, but surely not in general. Faith has either been the mainstream position, in which case it would not soothe and comfort because your tormentor would likely profess the same religion, or it has been a hunted minority. Can anyone say that Christianity is a comforting religion today? Dr. Robert George dismissed that notion a few years ago.
Syme's comment is instructive: ...Why does a dandelion have to fight the whole universe? For the same reason that I had to be alone in the dreadful Council of the Days. So that each thing that obeys law may have the glory and isolation of the anarchist. So that each man fighting for order may be as brave and good a man as the dynamiter. This struggle was discussed at length in Chesterton's great apologetic Orthodoxy. In that book he describes a conservative as a radical, always fighting the forces of entropy and decay around you. "If you want a white post, you have to keep painting it or else you'll end up with a black post." Fighting for order is every bit as desperate and romantic as fighting a dragon or fighting against injustice. But it's so prosaic that no one notices. The shopkeeper sweeping leaves out of his doorway is every bit as daring as the soldier fighting insurgents in Iraq. But no one will write books or movies about the shopkeeper.
Keeping the faith in the midst of confusion is a bold proposition. It's not for the faint of heart. Today a great sifting is going on. We don't have to worry about being beheaded by Islamic radicals and we're not in imminent danger of imprisonment. But even with that it's not for the faint of heart and it's not for those seeking comfort. The Benedict Option is often touted as a way of preserving culture, even to the point of believers moving closer to their parishes so that the physical neighborhood would be a place of security and comfort. But that's not the experience of many. If you don't kowtow to the mainstream culture, you'll suffer for it. And if you seek membership in the Church, it's likely that you'll suffer more because you're a bigger target.
However, if you're looking for a fight, if you're looking to engage the enemy and risk your life for your values, it may be just the place you're looking for. "Culture Warrior" is not the prestigious title it was during Benedict XVI's reign, but that doesn't make them less necessary. And I feel that's the direction things are going whether Rome likes it or not. We'll either face our enemies on our feet or on our knees.
A final point before I put Thursday down for another year. I want to comment on this line: "I do not curse you for being cruel. I do not curse you (though I might) for being kind. I curse you for being safe!" This is echoed in a scene from earlier in the book, and portrayed in the YouTube video I posted earlier: "You policemen are cruel to the poor, but I could forgive you even your cruelty if it were not for your calm." This runs through the book and it seems to be an inversion of the classic English stereotype of "keeping a stiff upper lip". Chesterton wrote about it in earlier books, that the great heroes of English history were men of valor and emotion but by the time of Chesterton the English had been drained of emotion, and least in public comportment. Emotional outbursts were the domain of hot-headed Frenchmen and Italians. Even English women were advised to pull themselves together in the face of death. The characters in Thursday find the lack of emotion infuriating. They fear people that possess a bland expression more than the evil acts that person commits.
And yet the characters themselves are as stoic as them come. Gregory, the villain in the book, is almost a Bond-villain: treating Syme to a good meal and pleasant conversation as a prelude to a dangerous introduction to the anarchist council. (I'm going to kill you, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil). I don't know if Thursday originated that trope, but it's the oldest book I've read that contains the Bond-villain motif.
And yet the characters themselves are as stoic as them come. Gregory, the villain in the book, is almost a Bond-villain: treating Syme to a good meal and pleasant conversation as a prelude to a dangerous introduction to the anarchist council. (I'm going to kill you, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil). I don't know if Thursday originated that trope, but it's the oldest book I've read that contains the Bond-villain motif.
Poverty, Inc
A new film from The Acton Institute. It's available online.
Some background videos are
Andrew Mwenda at TED 2007
George Ayittey at TED 2007
Herman Chinery-Hesse
The speakers above advocate local solutions to the local problems in Africa. Most of those local solutions involve "capitalism": jobs, entrepeneurship and free trade. The current aid system is run by people who are successful capitalists, but who are suspicious of capitalism. Let's be honest: the rat race sucks and a different system would be nice. The rich donors seemingly wish to use their aid as a test bed for a post-capitalist system. Not quite socialism, but not quite capitalism either. Crony capitalism, perhaps.
The film itself makes a case against paternalism: a feeling that rich countries and donors know better than poor countries. This ties in with the skepticism about capitalism. There's always risk in capitalism. People will get rich, but other people will go broke. The rich donors don't want risk: they want everyone to succeed. That's an odd position for successful people to take. Why is bland subsistence with no chance for success acceptable for Africans and Haitians but not for Bono and Bill Gates?
Some background videos are
Andrew Mwenda at TED 2007
George Ayittey at TED 2007
Herman Chinery-Hesse
The speakers above advocate local solutions to the local problems in Africa. Most of those local solutions involve "capitalism": jobs, entrepeneurship and free trade. The current aid system is run by people who are successful capitalists, but who are suspicious of capitalism. Let's be honest: the rat race sucks and a different system would be nice. The rich donors seemingly wish to use their aid as a test bed for a post-capitalist system. Not quite socialism, but not quite capitalism either. Crony capitalism, perhaps.
The film itself makes a case against paternalism: a feeling that rich countries and donors know better than poor countries. This ties in with the skepticism about capitalism. There's always risk in capitalism. People will get rich, but other people will go broke. The rich donors don't want risk: they want everyone to succeed. That's an odd position for successful people to take. Why is bland subsistence with no chance for success acceptable for Africans and Haitians but not for Bono and Bill Gates?
Archbishop Chaput at BYU
Good stuff
America thrives on diversity. It needs immigration to constantly renew itself. So demographic change is a very good thing—so long as some mechanism exists in society to weave people together into a nation with common ideals; ideals that are organic to our past and higher than our personal appetites. America is an idea. And the idea needs to have a moral substance greater than “every man for himself” or “do whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t hurt somebody else.” That’s a hunting license, not a national purpose.http://www.firstthings.com/web-exclusives/2016/03/awakenings
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
More from Man Who Was Thursday
The Man Who Was Thursday was written in 1908, at the tail end of the period of the Anarchist movement. The history of the Anarchists is complex and probably beyond my ability to summarize. They descended from Marxism and sought to destroy the ruling class mostly through violent outrages. They bear at least a superficial resemblance to the terrorists that plague the world today, at least in their methods.
The Man Who Was Thursday was nominally about the struggle against Anarchists. And this scene from early in the book pretty much summarizes the philosophical motivation for the anarchists. After today's attacks in Brussels, it's probably worth a look,
The Man Who Was Thursday was nominally about the struggle against Anarchists. And this scene from early in the book pretty much summarizes the philosophical motivation for the anarchists. After today's attacks in Brussels, it's probably worth a look,
For more about the link between the old anarchists and modern terrorists, here's a 2005 article from The Economist.
Saturday, March 19, 2016
In defense of order
It's that time of year again. Once a year I get the urge to read GK Chesterton's haunting epic The Man Who Was Thursday (the annotated version linked is highly recommended). Thursday is enigmatic, humorous, frustrating and fascinating. It is a lot like life. Early in the book we have a dialog between an anarchist poet (Gregory) and "a poet of law, a poet of order" (Syme).
"An artist is identical with an anarchist," [Gregory] cried. "You might transpose the words anywhere. An anarchist is an artist. The man who throws a bomb is an artist, because he prefers a great moment to everything. He sees how much more valuable is one burst of blazing light, one peal of perfect thunder, than the mere common bodies of a few shapeless policemen. An artist disregards all governments, abolishes all conventions. The poet delights in disorder only. If it were not so, the most poetical thing in the world would be the Underground Railway."
"So it is," said Mr. Syme.
"Nonsense!" said Gregory, who was very rational when anyone else attempted paradox. "Why do all the clerks and navvies in the railway trains look so sad and tired, so very sad and tired? I will tell you. It is because they know that the train is going right. It is because they know that whatever place they have taken a ticket for that place they will reach. It is because after they have passed Sloane Square they know that the next station must be Victoria, and nothing but Victoria. Oh, their wild rapture! oh, their eyes like stars and their souls again in Eden, if the next station were unaccountably Baker Street!"
"It is you who are unpoetical," replied the poet Syme. "If what you say of clerks is true, they can only be as prosaic as your poetry. The rare, strange thing is to hit the mark; the gross, obvious thing is to miss it. We feel it is epical when man with one wild arrow strikes a distant bird. Is it not also epical when man with one wild engine strikes a distant station? Chaos is dull; because in chaos the train might indeed go anywhere, to Baker Street or to Bagdad. But man is a magician, and his whole magic is in this, that he does say Victoria, and lo! it is Victoria. No, take your books of mere poetry and prose; let me read a time table, with tears of pride. Take your Byron, who commemorates the defeats of man; give me Bradshaw, who commemorates his victories. Give me Bradshaw, I say!"
"Must you go?" inquired Gregory sarcastically.
"I tell you," went on Syme with passion, "that every time a train comes in I feel that it has broken past batteries of besiegers, and that man has won a battle against chaos. You say contemptuously that when one has left Sloane Square one must come to Victoria. I say that one might do a thousand things instead, and that whenever I really come there I have the sense of hairbreadth escape. And when I hear the guard shout out the word 'Victoria,' it is not an unmeaning word. It is to me the cry of a herald announcing conquest. It is to me indeed 'Victoria'; it is the victory of Adam."
Gregory wagged his heavy, red head with a slow and sad smile.
"And even then," he said, "we poets always ask the question, 'And what is Victoria now that you have got there?' You think Victoria is like the New Jerusalem. We know that the New Jerusalem will only be like Victoria. Yes, the poet will be discontented even in the streets of heaven. The poet is always in revolt."
"There again," said Syme irritably, "what is there poetical about being in revolt? You might as well say that it is poetical to be sea-sick. Being sick is a revolt. Both being sick and being rebellious may be the wholesome thing on certain desperate occasions; but I'm hanged if I can see why they are poetical. Revolt in the abstract is—revolting. It's mere vomiting."I'm an engineer and I work in a technology company. My company touts innovation and creativity. Indeed, I have recently entered a contest for best innovation. We have had talks about the power of innovation and we all nod our heads sagely and admit that creativity is the key to success.
Yet, there is a value in plain-old, humdrum order. Imagine if every electrical outlet in your house was a different style, and the new widget you just brought home from the store had yet some other arrangement of prongs. Imagine, indeed, if the stores didn't agree on what kind of money they'd take. A store might take cash, credit, Apple Pay, Android Pay or Paypal, but all those transactions will be done in US currency (if the store is in the US). Imagine if the plumbing fixtures didn't come in standard sizes, or if some cars had brake pedals on the right and some had the brakes on the left.
Innovation is wonderful. We all benefit from new ideas and better products and more convenience, though a lot of the convenience brought about by technology comes from alleviating inconvenience from an earlier generation of technology. But innovation is built upon a framework of agreed-upon standards. Apple disrupted the cell-phone industry with the iPhone, but you can still call and text Samsung phones from an iPhone. Without the standards you just have chaos.
Indeed, one of the marks of successful innovation is that it becomes the standard. Check out the history of railroad gauges, for instance. Chrysler was an early adopter of airbags and now you can't get a car without them.
This is a different kind of post for me. It's irrelevant to most of what I put here. Actually, the quote above from Thursday is mostly irrelevant to the rest of the book. I could make a God connection somewhere -- that God uses the ordinary world and the people in it as His "framework" to innovate on -- but I don't know if I can make that point without sounding stupid.
But mainly I just wanted to plug Chesterton, and that's always a good thing to do.
Friday, March 18, 2016
And I haven't even read the last one yet...
The post synodal exhortation is expected this month. It's supposed to be signed on St Joseph's day (patron of families). I don't know what that means as far as translation and distribution. I haven't even read Laudato Si yet (I don't even know why there's always an apostrophe on Si' ).
Here's some advice while we wait.
Here's some advice while we wait.
... one of the things unofficially abolished by Vatican II was the art of brevity.Indeed.
Sunday, March 6, 2016
Intro to Catholic Social Teaching
March 6, 2016 talk on Social Teaching or Social Justice
The full talk by Father Robert Sirico is on YouTube.
I put people to sleep! Probably talked too long and the room was a little warm.
I'll have to make it a little snappier next time.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Intro to Catholic Moral Teaching
Talk for RCIA this Sunday
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_KXHqjxpwk1ZB7fDcfGMJfnVneCUN02EAftZx3-eNu0/edit?usp=sharing
As an example of flawed conscience, I submit the example of one Greg Williams, former radio host of KTCK (1310AM The Ticket in Dallas). Back in 2005 he told a story on the radio about his experience in rehab. He had voluntarily checked himself in due to a Vicodin addition during the 2004-2005 holiday break. A portion of the story can be heard here.
This audio is from the second segment of that talk. In the first segment, he mentioned an interesting fact: all the staff in that rehab clinic were trained to avoid looking at their patients in the eye. The patients were obviously in pain and if the staff looked them in the eye, they might take pity on them and might do something to ease the pain. It's understandable that this clinic had drugs or alcohol on hand: the addicts probably had it on them when they came in. So it's possible people could squirrel it away and, in a misguided sense of compassion, give the patients something to take the edge off. Conscience tells us to help, but it doesn't tell us the best way, or even the right way.
Conscience does not good unless it's formed by something outside of ourselves. Something trustworthy and well-founded.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_KXHqjxpwk1ZB7fDcfGMJfnVneCUN02EAftZx3-eNu0/edit?usp=sharing
As an example of flawed conscience, I submit the example of one Greg Williams, former radio host of KTCK (1310AM The Ticket in Dallas). Back in 2005 he told a story on the radio about his experience in rehab. He had voluntarily checked himself in due to a Vicodin addition during the 2004-2005 holiday break. A portion of the story can be heard here.
This audio is from the second segment of that talk. In the first segment, he mentioned an interesting fact: all the staff in that rehab clinic were trained to avoid looking at their patients in the eye. The patients were obviously in pain and if the staff looked them in the eye, they might take pity on them and might do something to ease the pain. It's understandable that this clinic had drugs or alcohol on hand: the addicts probably had it on them when they came in. So it's possible people could squirrel it away and, in a misguided sense of compassion, give the patients something to take the edge off. Conscience tells us to help, but it doesn't tell us the best way, or even the right way.
Conscience does not good unless it's formed by something outside of ourselves. Something trustworthy and well-founded.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Thoughts about the Rites of Initiation in RCIA
My talk from yesterday's retreat
I read it for my own benefit as much as anyone else's. The story of Elijah is about as personal as any I can think of. I pray for refreshment almost every day.
In fact, I've been thinking about leaving RCIA for more than a year because I don't know if I can keep going. Work isn't getting any easier, and I'm not getting any younger and there are other considerations that I don't want to get into in a semi-public forum (assuming anyone ever reads these posts).
I've been looking for a sign, and our new pastor starts on March 1, so maybe that will be it. With God's grace, I can keep going. But if He withdraws His grace because it's time for me to do something else, I certainly can't do it on my own.
My Most Successful Lent
I haven't decided what to do for Lent this year. Actually, work has been grinding me down to the fine powder and I'm making a long car trip in a week, so between those two thing, I'm not sure what more penance I can do.
But I was reminded this morning of what I did last year and it was very successful.
There was a certain Religious Sister who works for the diocese who had taught a class I attended who said a series of things that really upset me. It would be uncharitable for me to dwell on them here, but they were straight out of the 1970's felt-banner era and I was surprised that such generational and cultural biases still existed in the 21st century.
And the more I thought about it, it really made me mad. I was mad at her, I was mad at the people in her religious order, I was mad at the people who hired her for to teach this class, I was mad at the people who hired them, and I was mad at the local Ordinary. In short, I was pretty mad and frustrated. I had been promised that this generation was passing and there'd be a new, orthodox group to take their place Real Soon Now(TM).
I chewed on that anger and nurtured it for several years.
I couldn't remember her name, but I knew that she was some bigwig with the diocese religious order ... organization or whatever it's called. I had seen her picture on a poster for that organization on the day that she was teaching the class. A week or so before Lent last year, I was walking around the parish and -- lo and behold! -- that very poster was hanging on the wall with that very Sister's smiling face beaming at me. In a flash of inspiration, I took a picture of it on my phone.
Soon, it occurred to me to pray for her. I'm not one for symbolic gestures -- I've had too much pop psychology at corporate training events to take it seriously -- but I resolved that I would pray for her every day during Lent, and on Easter I would erase her picture from my phone with the idea that this would erase the anger from my heart. Since she was all about the NewChurch, I decided that an Our Father, a Hail Mary and St Michael Prayer would be appropriate.
So every day in Lent, I prayed those three prayers for her and for catechists in the diocese, and for those who run that program including the bishop. That's a lot of work for three little prayers. But I did it every day. And on Easter I deleted her picture.
I wish I could say there was a huge cathartic release when I did, but it wasn't like that. The first week of Lent I felt no difference at all. I don't know if there was a single point during Lent where she didn't bother me anymore, but by Holy Week, I was pretty much over her. It did feel good to delete her picture, but I can't really explain why. I was actually kind of embarrassed by the gesture, and embarrassed that it was necessary. Maybe I was just happy that it was over.
Had I written this post before I did that I'd have spent several paragraphs trashing the woman, including what she said, what she wore and anything else I can think of. Now, that doesn't seem necessary.
I don't expect this to work for everyone. People in a continuing relationship wouldn't be able to symbolically delete other people from their lives: new provocations would require them to start over continuously. But it worked in this case.
But I was reminded this morning of what I did last year and it was very successful.
There was a certain Religious Sister who works for the diocese who had taught a class I attended who said a series of things that really upset me. It would be uncharitable for me to dwell on them here, but they were straight out of the 1970's felt-banner era and I was surprised that such generational and cultural biases still existed in the 21st century.
And the more I thought about it, it really made me mad. I was mad at her, I was mad at the people in her religious order, I was mad at the people who hired her for to teach this class, I was mad at the people who hired them, and I was mad at the local Ordinary. In short, I was pretty mad and frustrated. I had been promised that this generation was passing and there'd be a new, orthodox group to take their place Real Soon Now(TM).
I chewed on that anger and nurtured it for several years.
I couldn't remember her name, but I knew that she was some bigwig with the diocese religious order ... organization or whatever it's called. I had seen her picture on a poster for that organization on the day that she was teaching the class. A week or so before Lent last year, I was walking around the parish and -- lo and behold! -- that very poster was hanging on the wall with that very Sister's smiling face beaming at me. In a flash of inspiration, I took a picture of it on my phone.
Soon, it occurred to me to pray for her. I'm not one for symbolic gestures -- I've had too much pop psychology at corporate training events to take it seriously -- but I resolved that I would pray for her every day during Lent, and on Easter I would erase her picture from my phone with the idea that this would erase the anger from my heart. Since she was all about the NewChurch, I decided that an Our Father, a Hail Mary and St Michael Prayer would be appropriate.
So every day in Lent, I prayed those three prayers for her and for catechists in the diocese, and for those who run that program including the bishop. That's a lot of work for three little prayers. But I did it every day. And on Easter I deleted her picture.
I wish I could say there was a huge cathartic release when I did, but it wasn't like that. The first week of Lent I felt no difference at all. I don't know if there was a single point during Lent where she didn't bother me anymore, but by Holy Week, I was pretty much over her. It did feel good to delete her picture, but I can't really explain why. I was actually kind of embarrassed by the gesture, and embarrassed that it was necessary. Maybe I was just happy that it was over.
Had I written this post before I did that I'd have spent several paragraphs trashing the woman, including what she said, what she wore and anything else I can think of. Now, that doesn't seem necessary.
I don't expect this to work for everyone. People in a continuing relationship wouldn't be able to symbolically delete other people from their lives: new provocations would require them to start over continuously. But it worked in this case.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Interesting facet of Benedictine Spirtuality
http://corbiniansbear.blogspot.com/2016/01/harbinger-of-lent.html
Key part
Benedictine Oblates ... must submit their "Bona Opera" proposals to the abbot. This is according to Chapter 49 of the Rule of St. Benedict.
I have frequently heard of people making known their lenten penances. I have done it myself often, as a way to holding myself accountable. If no one knows what I'm giving up, then no one knows if I'm cheating. It did occur to me that publicizing what I'm giving up could be a form of prideful boasting, but it never occurred to me that one would get permission for his penance.
Key part
Benedictine Oblates ... must submit their "Bona Opera" proposals to the abbot. This is according to Chapter 49 of the Rule of St. Benedict.
Everyone should, however, make known to the abbot what he intends to do, since it ought to be done with his prayer and approval. Whatever is undertaken without the permission of the spiritual father, will be reckoned as presumption and vainglory, not deserving of reward. Therefore everything must be done with abbot's approval.The reason St. Benedict required monks to receive approval for anything not required by the Rule is that he had no doubt seen how some monks would not wisely limit extra devotions or penance. Worse, what is supposed to be an offering to God can instead become an occasion for pride. The devil is subtle. There are many monitory tales of such deception.
I have frequently heard of people making known their lenten penances. I have done it myself often, as a way to holding myself accountable. If no one knows what I'm giving up, then no one knows if I'm cheating. It did occur to me that publicizing what I'm giving up could be a form of prideful boasting, but it never occurred to me that one would get permission for his penance.
It just goes to show the totality of life in a monastic community, even for the third-order members.
(note, Corbinian's Bear is a strictly anonymous blog. The author identifies himself as The Bear in honor of St Corbinian's bear and identifies himself as a retired lawyer but other than that strictly refers to himself is ursine terms to preserve his anonymity. It's part of his schtick)
Monday, January 25, 2016
Father Longenecker on Church Shopping
Been thinking about this lately, for some reason.
Father Longenecker used to run a number of posts by his 'alter egos'. Mrs Brady was one of them.
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/standingonmyhead/2010/09/mrs-brady-on-church-shopping.html
And then there was this post
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/standingonmyhead/2010/09/church-shopping.html
Father Longenecker used to run a number of posts by his 'alter egos'. Mrs Brady was one of them.
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/standingonmyhead/2010/09/mrs-brady-on-church-shopping.html
And then there was this post
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/standingonmyhead/2010/09/church-shopping.html
That being said. Sometimes you just got to go, but when you do you’d better agonize and pray over the decision, and when you find that new parish. You’d better stay put and learn stability. I know it will sound like heresy to some folks, but there is more to the spiritual life than fine liturgy. It’s called humility. Humility is very very hard.Indeed.
Humility is endless.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Eleven Cardinals Book
Before the recent synod on the family, Ignatius Press released "Eleven Cardinals Speak on Marriage and the Family". It's hard not to think of this as a sequel to the "Five Cardinals Book" that was released prior to 2014's synod on the family. One wonders what will happen prior to the next synod.
I didn't get the book right away because I was hoping that Ignatius would release a Kindle or iBooks edition. When I finally realized that wasn't going to happen the synod was halfway over and I resisted buying the book because I figured it'd be obsolete by the time the final report came out. After the synod was over, I didn't get it because I was getting tired of the constant discussion about marriage and things related to marriage (I am married. I am familiar with the subject. Perhaps there are other topics of interest?) But a month ago I ended up buying it, more to support my local Catholic bookstore than anything else.
It's a slim volume at 136 pages, including the preface by Winfried Aymans. Given that there are eleven authors, it's understandable that it's an uneven book. Mr Ayman's preface and the first chapter by Cardinal Caffara (Bolgna) are outstanding, and probably worth the price of the book. The second chapter by Cardinal Cleemis (Syro-Malankara) and the seventh chapter by Cardinal Onaiyeken (Abuja, Nigeria) are very interesting as the present how the Church's teaching on marriage is transmitted and received in different cultures, which I foolishly assumed as the point of these synods, not to regularize the decadent practices of the West. Then of course is Cardinal Sarah's contribution which is wonderful as always.
So I can't discourage people from getting this book. But I'm not sure I can whole-heartedly recommend it, either. My earlier misgivings persisted even as I read the better chapters. There's an odor of antiquity in the book. Most of the authors have "emeritus" in their titles and so it seems that their views are not necessarily reflective of the current people running dioceses around the world. Since the majority of the authors in this book are in no position to do anything practical or constructive with regards to Church teaching, it naturally leads one to think that that is the case in general. That the people in the Church at large that uphold traditional values are not in a position to do anything about it and, by extension, the majority of people who ARE in a position to do something are not inclined to uphold Church teaching. That's a completely fallacious argument, but I couldn't help getting that impression.
I suspect that Ignatius views this book as a minor contribution to the body of knowledge surrounding marriage which is why they didn't take the effort to make it available electronically.
I also have specific quibbles. Cardinal Eijk (Utrecht), Cardinal Meisner (emeritis, Cologne) and Cardinal Savino (Caracas) make the point explicitly that the Church is too timid in teaching the truth about marriage and sexuality. Cardinal Eijk actually uses the phrase "catechesis has been seriously neglected for half a century". I hear this all the time and it's true. But the fact that I hear it all the time also sets my antenna twitching and I've come to see this as a cheap applause line for conservative Catholics. It's the equivalent to a speaker warming up his audience with "I'm always very happy to come to (insert name of town). The people are so good looking and friendly!" It's used to get on the good side of your audience so they agree with everything else you way. It's a way of filling the space when you have nothing else to offer. It's treacle.
But what makes it offensive in this case is these people are the very ones who can do something about it. Cardinal Eijk make think catechesis has been poor in the last five decades, but he's been the archbishop of Utrecht since 2007 and a bishop since 1999. Cardinal Meisner was the archbishop of Cologne for twenty-five years. Cardinal Savino has been a bishop in Venezuela in various capacities for thirty-three years. These are not exactly helpless bystanders. I'd rather read less about their complaining about how things are in the Church and more about they've done to fix the problems.
The other quibble is related to a pet peeve of mine, so probably isn't valid for everyone. The authors mention that Vatican II is the key to a correct understanding of the family, largely through the interpretive lens of Pope St John Paul II at his Apostolic Exhortation Familiaris Conosorto. Yet it also appears in the pages that many of the problems are caused by a misunderstanding of Vatican II. This is more treacle. It's hard to imagine getting published a a Catholic author without invoking Vatican II. It wears me out. I'm left with the conclusion that Vatican II has basically the same function as alcohol in the minds of many.
So I remain conflicted about the book. There are definitely gems contained within it and I think it's a good reference on the subject. It's worth the price and it's worth the space on your bookshelf if you're a catechist or evangelist of any sort. At least today. I remain cautious about it's shelf life. I still worry that Pope Francis will issue his own apostolic exhortation and render much of the argumentation in this book obsolete. I don't think he'll exactly overturn John Paul II, but ... well, actually I just don't know what to expect. He could uphold Church teaching, but for a completely different reason than is presented by these authors. He could dismiss them as pharisees and symptoms of a throw-away culture and antithetical to mercy, yet not go so far as to say their conclusions are wrong. Who knows?
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