'Nuff said.

Margaret Sanger or Mother Teresa? This should not be a difficult choice. Cilnton's response at the end puts the decision we must all make in the starkest of terms: Is it the role of the state to protect the radical will to power of a few select human persons or is it to protect those conditions (including life itself) necessary to human excellence? One could (and I do) argue that a woman cannot attain her feminine excellence while being, in many cases, coerced by the culture surrounding her to abort her unborn child.



Thanks to the Feminine Genius.

Belated feasting

I completely forgot to put up a post for St. Gianna's feast day yesterday. We were so busy celebrating with Miriam Gianna that the Internet just didn't happen (which is as it should be, right?). Three-year-olds are so lovely, because they can be content with just a holy card, a round of "Happy Feast Day to You," and some oatmeal cookies.

I'll send you over to Catholic Manhood for another link and a little note.

Happy post-feast day to our lovely firstborn!

Colbert, Glendon, and Kmeic

Well, you either laugh or you cry. I think it's time to laugh. Here is Colbert most wonderful interview with the increasingly limp Douglas Kmiec, who infamously made the case that now-President Obama was the most pro-life candidate available to Catholics last year. As mentioned once or twice on this blog, Kmiec's arguments on that score resemble a rather wistful Swiss Cheese. Colbert pokes a few more holes in him.

While Kmiec's theological and pastoral contortions may provoke pity, Mary Ann Glendon's decision to turn down Notre Dame's Laetare Medal at this year's commencement inspires hope. Her letter to Fr. Jenkins, the university's president, is articulate, gentle, and yet unambiguous. The NC Register has great commentary from Fr. Raymond de Souza. May her tribe increase.

(American Papist has a list of bishops--with links to their statements--who have responded to Notre Dame in kind.)

And now, enjoy the show:

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Douglas Kmiec
colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Gay Marriage Commercial

I know myself in the other.

Here is a marvelous reflection on the nature of the Jewish-Christian relationship from the new Spengler First Things blog. God's beloved is not two peoples, but one; his passion is undivided for his divided children. Enjoy this little excerpt:

"The Christian-Jewish engagement is nothing, if it is not a matter of mutual Unheimlichkeit —a marvelous word that in the case of Freud’s essay is translated as “the uncanny,” but implies a kind of creepiness for which there is no real English cognate. If you step onto your morning train into the office, and someone gets out and walks by you who looks exactly like you, that is unheimlich. Meeting a Doppelgänger is unheimlich. God is the jealous (better translation: impassioned) bridegroom of Israel. When Israel, the physical descendants of Abraham and Sarah, makes eye contact with Israel, the People of God in the self-conception of the Christian Church (using Barth’s upper-case), it is unheimlich."

It is uncanny, indeed.

Catholic Identity and Christ

Amy Welborn has a good reflection on Catholic identity over at Beliefnet (yes, she's about the best thing that ever happened to that site). The questions she ponders have been swimming around in my head this year, especially. I've been teaching at a small Catholic homeschool academy for almost four years now and am a "parish" member of a university Newman center. The former is not only delightfully orthodox but also distinctly and deliberately traditional in taste: prayers in Latin, Baltimore Catechism, the Fr. Laux books, rosary bracelets, scapulars, etc. The university center, while providing valid sacraments, leans in the other direction: Marty Haugen Muzak, its own peculiar variations on liturgical postures, little interest in Adoration, no mention of doctrine (never), etc. The Catholic styles, tastes, and degrees of orthodoxy I encounter are, to say the least, varied.

Now, I am fully convinced of two things with regard to this discussion. First of all, your "tastes" and preferences in terms of "Catholic identity"--do I like stained glass? am I convinced that it's "cool" to be Catholic? do I find the Novus Ordo completely overrated?--do not matter at all. Second, these tastes and preferences matter tremendously.

Do you see my problem? Let me spell this out.

Our preferences in liturgy, music, or even what we deem appropriate at Mass in a sense do not matter. For example, multiple teachers at my little school have spoken with real disdain or distrust of the LifeTeen movement. They object to the Christian Rock music employed at Mass and what they perceive as the use of emotion to bring about conversion. "It just feels too Protestant." It would be better, they say, for these kids to be exposed to silence, chant, and beautiful architecture. After all, it is beauty that will draw them. Now silence is important, chant is one of the great treasures of the Church, as is architecture; but the point of all these things is to draw us to the person of Christ and to inspire us to submit to his authority on earth. "By their fruits you shall know them," and LifeTeen has borne great fruit in the lives of many of my friends. LifeTeen Masses may not be appropriate for Vatican City, but they do evidence the life of the Holy Spirit living in these teens.

The teens do need eventual exposure to the rich culture that human beings have built up around the Church, but we do well to remember that--however beautiful--human culture is just human. It is Christ who is divine and is the one we need.

On the other hand, tastes matter immensely when they tie directly into virtues of obedience and love. There are human things that every Catholic should know, but not so that he or she can be "more Catholic" or "a Real Catholic" or "a Super-Solid Catholic." We need to encounter some of these things because they may just help us to love Jesus Christ more.

For example, Eucharistic Adoration is not just about me being orthodox. It's a practice that came about in the Church as a result of and a way to foster a deeper passion for Christ truly present in the Eucharist. Some people have a distinct distaste for Adoration, and this distaste needs to be overcome. Other dislikes do not need to be overcome, such as a dislike for Christian Rock, because there's nothing intrinsically necessary about Rock 'n' Roll to your relationship with God. But profound love for the Eucharist and the desire to be in its Presence is necessary to our relationship with God.

These are just my preliminary thoughts (what? she has more thoughts?), and I will end here with Welborn's words. The point of all this is that as Catholics we need to constantly re-examine what value we are placing on our "Catholic Identity." We are not called either to re-affirm the Gothic arch or churches in-the-round. We need to find our attraction to the Church in the person of Christ and in his sacraments:

"When I read Pope Benedict (and, incidentally John Paul II), I don't see the "It's Cool To Be Catholic" or "Let's reaffirm our Fascinating Catholic Identity" in play. I see... ...the assumption that the Church is the Church of Jesus Christ, his loving, serving, redeeming presence on earth. ...people today, as they always have, need Christ. They need salvation, forgiveness and mercy. ...Our call as Catholics is to bring that loving Christ to others - through what we do as Catholics individually and institutionally - but the direct, explicit goal is not to get people to like Catholics, think well of Catholics or be impressed by Catholics. The goal is...to put on Christ. And serve. And love. And bring others into his embrace."

Amen. If we put on Christ, the rest--beauty, truth, goodness, culture--will follow.

Happy Birthday, Bella!

We are so happy you are here and can't remember life without you.

On a side note, today is also the Feast of St. George (Old Calendar). We pray Bella will slay many dragons for the glory of God!

The Tears of God

I came to Fr. Benedict Groeschel's latest book, The Tears of God, with a bias. I don't think I shall ever recover from the depth and incisive rhetoric of David B. Hart's Doors of the Sea, his examination and refutation of Christian attempts to rationalize human suffering and catastrophe. Nothing, I assumed, could top that.

But my bias was soon overcome, for Groeschel has neither written a theological examination of suffering nor attempted to explain philosophically the Christian world view on the non-being of evil. Instead, he has written a book for those who are experiencing catastrophe themselves or are close to those experiencing it. Since we will all suffer at some point, he also explicitly recommends it for those preparing their hearts for that moment.

He has written the book as one entirely immersed in that point of view which Hart so perfectly articulates.: "We Christians are not obliged (and perhaps not even allowed) to look upon [catastrophe] and to attempt to console ourselves or others with vacuous cant about the ultimate meaning or purpose residing in all misery. Ours is, after all, a religion of salvation. Our faith is in a God who has come to resuce his creation from ... the empitness and waste of death [and] the forces ... that shatter liing souls (Hart, 101)." In perfect unison with Hart, Groeschel gives experiential witness to the fact that God himself has willingly suffered catastrophe and to the fact that this matters in our lives.

The Tears of God is eminently practical (Groeschel is a trained psychologist), leading the reader through the experience of catastrophe and the steps of sorrow that follow. He uses anecdotes from the attacks on the World Trade Center, the genocide in Rwanda, and--most predominantly--survivors of the Shoah and World War II to illustrate his points. More than illustrations, however, these living examples of grief offer hope to those of us suffering now. They have "come through the fire" and cleaved to the cross of Christ. In their relationship with a God who suffers with them, they find the strength to continue and even rebuild lives that were seemingly destroyed.

Groeschel urges his readers to meditate on heaven, especially as described in Revelation 21 and 22: "I read these chapters very often because that's where I'm going, and I await the coming of the Lord." His simple faith and (oddly enough) forceful humility on this point is particularly moving, considering our cultural tendency to suppress the thought of death or the end times. Groeschel, in contrast, finds them most comforting in times of great pain.

In the second half of the book, Groeschel's voice disappears. He has collected (and in some cases written) prayers for times of catastrophe--for murder victims, suicides, those who themselves have caused catastrophes, the seriously ill, imminent death, natural disaster victims. He also includes an anthology of Scripture quotations and some spiritual essays for private reading.

The overall result is a brief, but insightful, handbook for those who suffer. It takes only a few hours to read Groeschel's own thoughts, but the reader may return repeatedly to the prayers and meditations. It is a beautiful resource, a love letter to those who share in Christ's unending Passion.

This review was written as part of the Catholic book Reviewer program from The Catholic Company. Visit The Catholic Company to find more information on The Tears of God.