That bare minimum mode.

Jen over at Conversion Diary is asking about those seasons of life called "Bare Minimum Mode." And, oh, do I love to dish on the intimate details of those darkest days.

For our family, Bare Minimum Mode can be very, very long (I'm thinking the entire first year of Ana Therese's life), more to middling (those first three months of pregnancy), or a few days (flu season!). The longer stretches share several characteristics:

1. We ask for help. We have never, ever had the funds to hire a nanny or even a mother's helper. We beg. I have begged my parents to adopt my small children for three months and take me in as a patient. I have begged my deacon to find older couples to come cook, clean, and entertain kids. I have begged college students to donate hours of their time to change diapers or just take the kids away and return only for bedtime.

2. People come out of everywhere to help. Seriously, we have made the most wonderful friends during our Bare Minimum Time. Men from the Knights of Columbus have cooked amazing quantities of food. Their wives have played with babies. Students have taught my children how to read and paint and knit. Without exception, every person among them has thanked us profusely for asking for help. And we, of course, just gape and thank the good Lord for the communion of saints, for bringing us to our knees, and providing such company in the vale of tears.

3. Nap time becomes sacred. This echoes Jen, but ain't it the truth? Nothing touches the 1-4pm. No one. Nothing.

4. Post-dinner, too, is sacred. No one comes near the Philosopher Home after 8pm. This is time for nursing the baby down, catching a nap while Scientist Dad holds the baby, doing physical therapy, a just winding down and encouraging each other.

5. Laundry is not folded. Now we get to the knitty-gritty: I put two laundry baskets on th living room floor. One is for clean Grown-Up Clothing. The other is for clean Childrens Clothing. I don't care if the 6-year-old puts on the 3-year-old's underwear every day for a month. It's clean, the kids are warm, and I didn't spend my sleeping hours folding laundry.

6. The kids' routine is simplified, but not abandoned. They eat sitting together three times per day. They have snack. They may watch more movies, but also have play time (usually in the happy, morning hours). They have nap (or quiet-time). When their lives are sane, it's easier for the parents to stay sane.

7. Confession and Mass. Both mom and dad must cling to the sacraments. This is the hour. Whatever else goes away--homeschool, ballet class, recreational reading, exercise--these two sacraments must never go away. Monthly Confession and weekly Sunday Mass. It's hard, but these indeed are the Bare Minimum.

It sounds cliche, but it's so true: These times are passing. They come and they go. We always emerge from them blinking a little in the glare of day. Did that really happen? During the dark times, life becomes so physical but also so pure. Our focus is narrowed, but single-minded. We escape the distractions and flurry of ordinary life, and even in the suffering we find a certain peace.

Can a creature so beautiful...

... have come from us? Yes, yes, she did.

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Let it all hang out!

Head on over to Catholic Exchange today for my article (post?) on abstinence in marriage. This is a sort of combination of my two previous posts here and here, with some added twists thanks to y'all's profound commentary.

Abstinence and marriage, Part II: Bueno!

I've read some exquisitely thoughtful and transparent comments from yesterday's post, Abstinence and marriage: ¿Que pasa? The only worthy response would be to continue with a few more thoughts.

Jen wrote that she finds an inherent difference between priestly (or monastic) celibacy and periodic (or permanent) abstinence in marriage. I think she's right on this: Celibates (priests and religious) have freely vowed not only to live a life without sexual intercourse but also detached from the particular, one-on-one friendship that the marriage vows demand. Very few men and women get married expecting years and years of sexual abstinence. One anonymous commentator wrote that "the single person and the religious are both called to live chastity for many years. What makes it possible for them is fidelity to the spiritual life and the life of prayer. What is four weeks in comparison?

My response would be that four weeks living in the same, close quarters after years of a shared bed, shared sleeplessness, shared affection, and shared tears can make the shift from "sexual active married couple" to "sexless married couple" very different from life in a cell or large, lonely rectory. I'm not denigrating either sacrifice, I just think it might seem callous to compare (much like comparing the struggle of an infertile couple to my struggle).

The same anonymous commentator makes, however, an excellent point about the nature of human life: The great equalizer for all vocations and states of life is the call to sacrificial love. It's a difficult teaching, but, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."

Anonymous: "My recommendations to you aren't rocket science— daily Mass, weekly confession, weekly adoration, weekly fasting. Fasting, in particular is key to taming one's desire to engage in the marital act. I know that this sacrifice isn't easy— but it's part of what the marital vocation calls on you to do— but in a marriage— every step of the way is paved by sacrifice..."

April puts a positive slant on it: "God is making us into saints and THAT is beautiful. That is life-giving." She's put her finger on a truth we hold dear: All suffering can give life. It is all able to bear fruit.

I was listening to Abbot Tryphon this afternoon. He said, "When we are free, there are no battles. Life is a constant battle with the material world." As we battle in our desire to have it all--sex, health, avoid pregnancy, achieve pregnancy, Brownie Sundaes, a slim figure, plenty of sleep, completion of all projects--we inevitably feel the pull of the "flesh" (as in, the things that are transitory) to compromise. "If I just used a Pill, I could have sex and avoid pregnancy." "If I just made myself throw it all back up, I could eat Brownie Sundaes and be slim!" The killer argument comes from the psychologist: "You will go crazy if you don't have it all!"

But new life is not born of these compromises. It is born of becoming free of the desire to compromise. I think anonymous #2 gives good suggestions for training our souls and bodies to become free: fasting, prayer, the sacraments. It is only if we live in the very life of Christ himself that we can be free as he is free.

The Abbot also said that--as he was feeling miserable one day in all his accumulated wealth--he realized suddenly that this life was given him only as a time to prepare for eternity. The married life is only a sign of that real life: eternal consummation of our union with God. It is a means, not an end, to bring us to our true end.

In a sacramental and faithful marriage, abstinence is going to happen. For various reasons--voluntarily or involuntarily--we cannot always come together physically. Another friend pointed out to me the many examples of saints and blesseds who have chosen abstinence within their marriages either permanently or for a short period of time. We can join secular culture and psychoanalyze these men and women to pieces, or blame the Church for bashing sex in honoring them, or we can assume the best: They were seeking freedom, total freedom for the things of God. Their joy and final victory doesn't denigrate large families or sexually active marriages: It uplifts "those who are bowed down" under a battle they did not originally anticipate.

I am grateful for your company and witness.

Image Source: Blessed Luigi Beltrame Quattrocchi and Blessed Maria Corsini

My man.

The Art of Manliness seems to be making a comeback in the margins of the Interweb. You can find, hidden in cyberspace, all sortsof blogs dedicated to the revival of such skills as classy tattoos, shaving with a badger bristle brush, and holding the door for the ladies (or just women, if ladies are in short supply). It's a subculture, and it's pretty cute.

One Catholic blog is devoted to Castiglione’s “sprezzatura,” sometimes translated as "noncholance," as outlined in his Renaissance work The Art of the Courtier. Castiglione writes that the true gentleman exudes this quality: I have found quite a universal rule which in this matter seems to me valid above all other, and in all human affairs whether in word or deed: and that is to avoid affectation in every way possible as though it were some rough and dangerous reef; and (to pronounce a new word perhaps) to practice in all thing a certain sprezzatura [nonchalance], so as to conceal all art and make whatever is done or said appear to be without effort and almost without any thought about it..."

I'm thinking that, from a lady's point of view, YES. There is something irresistable in the man who performs in a seemingly effortless way--appearing unpretentious and at ease in al things. This is true, I believe, about men I don't particularly like for other reasons, e.g., Frank Sinatra and John F. Kennedy. Is it sprezzatura that makes most male comics funnier than the women (Seriously. I'd watch Bill Cosby over Lucille Ball any day.)?

Thanks to a dear friend from long ago, I have a brief list of qualities in the true courtier. A guy can hardly exhibit the sprezzatura and still be a jerk, a dawdler, or a coward around the ladies. What think you?

Swift. This is not to say the masculine male is hasty, but rather that he doesn't Muck About. In romantic parlance, that means, "If you're going to marry the girl, ask her. If you're not, stop dating her."

Adroit, but Humble. It takes a person of considerable talent to not only court the lady, land the job, start the business, father the children, and hold the door, but also to do so with an effortlessness and humility that inspire others to seek their best.

Friend. He never fails to greet people with a smile and is ever ready to assist in times of sadness, confusion, or celebration. For those of us who know the Man personally, it is no understatement to call his friendship one of life’s privileges. And he's attentive to his mom.

Poised. While he always looks dapper, it is his grace of bearing and personal presence that truly reflect his inner self and make the stronger impression. In a time when many mistake accoutrements for the source of personal style, he reminds us that how we carry ourselves is just as (if not more) important.

Patron. His pursuits of objective truths through scientific study support his appreciation (and support) for endeavors in the arts and humanities, which—as he often reminds us—also speak to deep truths about humanity and God.

A whole man. Recognizing that we only know Truth insofar as we practice Truth, he is unabashedly devout, drawn to the Truth by the timeless “lens of Beauty” and the admiration of goodness. That worldview compels him to be actively involved in his country as a citizen and as a witness to the gift of all life.

Thank you to the men who are these things to us.

Love, power, and Hans.

I've been thinking a lot lately about love and how to communicate love. One of the biggest catalysts has been the debate over same-sex marriage in New York: I think the debate points to some disagreements so fundamental that we, as a society, have lost the ability to even have this debate. And so, there is no debate: There is, in the end, only power.

But power is not credible. Power is not satisfying, I believe, even to the one who holds it. Love alone is credible, and as a civilization I believe we have lost who love is: the true, the good, and the beautiful.

And, hey! I've read books about love... So here, with a few revisions is a re-post of my analysis of the third chapter of Hans Urs von Balthasar's Love Alone is Credible.

Hans presents two approaches to speaking of the love of God.

Eros. First, we can begin to think in terms of personalism: One person cannot presume to master intellectually another person's gift of love. I can't break down my husband's love empirically or even explain it in terms of his "humanity"--the minute I do, I lose him.

Beauty. The second approach to love is through beauty. "In the experiences of extraordinary beauty--whether in nature or in art--we are able to grasp a phenomenon in its distinctiveness that otherwise remains veiled. We encounter something we could not have invented, but which is nevertheless deeply compelling. It satisfies us in a way we could not have satisfied ourselves.

These two approaches are, of course, just "signs." Von Balthasar emphasizes that, unlike a piece of art, God's love is not something "produced," nor does it exist in order to "fill my need." But both eros and beauty come together and are transcended by God's revelation of his love.

Divine love replaces human love as "agape"; divine beauty is "glory." Von Balthasar insists that both terms are needed for us to perceive that majesty of divine love: because it is beauty, it possesses an authority. When this authority shows itself, it demands our obedience; we long to be obedient when we see it, because it is at once so glorious and so intimate.

He has a beautiful little meditation on authority in the middle of the chapter--addressing the authority of the ecclesial office (bishops), the Scriptures, and the "living proclamation of the Word." All three, he says, are "merely word." They do not take on flesh until God himself takes on flesh: "The sole authority is the Son, who interprets the Father in the Holy Spirit as divine Love."

The authorities we obey here on earth have authority in obedience to Christ's mission. They--the Church--"prepare man to perceive the manifestation of God's love and to give it its due." This is a lovely way to think about Church authority and all the "rules" and doctrines; they have authority insofar as they exist to prepare us to see God face-to-face.

Von Balthasar leaves us with a warning: We must interpret Christian revelation "either wholly in terms of the self-glorification of absolute love or else we simply fail to understand it."

Receiving the beauty of love--the glorious majesty of God--requires the eyes of faith, eyes that neither presume too much nor shrug with false simplicity.

Yes to everything.

This is a re-post from last year's Lent (so long ago...). I've been reacquainting myself with my Mother in heaven. Or rather, she's been chasing me down lately. As May draws to a close, I wanted to honor her.

One of my Lenten disciplines will be to renew my consecration to Jesus through Mary in the mode of Louis de Montfort. The plan (emphasis on "plan") is to post the daily reflections (not all the prayers, though!) here. The three-week period of preparation starts this Thursday, March 4, but here's a little Marian reflection from Hans to get us going.

He's been discussing the foundation of contemplation, which is a listening to the Word of God in Scripture and the person of Christ.

He writes:

"The hearer par excellence is the virgin, who becomes pregnant with the Word and bears it as her Son and the Father's. As for herself, even as Mother she remains a handmaid; the Father alone is Lord, together with the Son who ish er life and who fashions it... She still carries him within herself, even after she has given birth to him; to find him, all she has to do is look into her heart, which is full of him."

I love the image of a virgin--a sort of symbol of purity, of a person who is completely emptied of all else (including herself) in order to be "full of him." Certainly it is an elevated vision of virginity, and not one we encounter on primetime!



He continues:

"With all the strength she can muster she listens to this Word as it grows more and more vast, divine and seemingly alien; its dimensions almost tear her asunder, yet it is for this, for everything, that she gave her consent right at the start. She lets herself be led where she 'does not wish to go'--so far is the Word she follows from being her own wisdom."

This section--right in the middle of a discourse on virginity!--speaks to me so much as a married woman trying to follow the Church's teaching (which is the Word of God in a certain form) on spousal love and fertility. Isn't it just a learning what my original vows meant? Every time I am led "where I do not wish to go" in this married life, I must remember that it was "for this, for everything, that I gave my consent right at the start."

The Long Loveliness.

Betty Beguiles wants to know: Was it love at first sight?

How did you and your significant other first meet? Was it love at first sight or did your affection develop over time? And how did you know he (or she) was The One?

I first (knowingly) set eyes on Todd in the halls of high school. I thought he was cute. He was also the best friend of a guy everyone thought I should date. I really had no interest in Dave (the friend) and, besides, I was going to become a nun.

But Dave's really tall friend, Todd, was really cute.

Todd liked classical music, studying, and arguing about death and life and meaning. He was something else. So, while it was not love at first sight, I sure liked him. But I was going to be a nun, so it really didn't matter. We started hanging out and debating the hot buttons.

We argued a lot. You see, I was the school papal nazi (a rather unflattering term coined by some other guy in high school). And Todd, well, he was a evolutionist/atheist/scientist guy. Darwin was his man, and the pope was mine. It was the best fun I'd ever had.

By the time he graduated high school, I was smitten by his intellectual integrity and passion for truth. I knew he was the one, except for Jesus. But he was dating someone else. They split up, but then he almost immediately started seeing someone at his new college (Oberlin, far far away Oberlin). We kept in touch, nevertheless, exchanging handwritten letters and still arguing about God, life, sex, religion, the Church, history, and the meaning of love.

Hindsight is 20/20, but I really think we both "knew" from about the time he left for Oberlin. We just had work out a few things. He had to fall in love with Jesus Christ. I had to work out that nun thing.

But we did. Deo Gratias Ago. And now for the hard part...

It will make a great novel one day, because it is true.

OMG(osh), like, wow.

Last night I should have been reading Polybius or tackling some 10th grade Geometry. After all, school starts next week.

Instead, as my husband wrote his dissertation, I watched an hour of the Bachelor.

And my soul hurts.

At one point, Todd looked up and noted, "Your mouth is hanging open. I'd shut it." I tried, but really.

For those of you who have remained pure, it's a reality show. One guy ("Jake") holes himself up in the life of luxury (mansions, yachts, private jets) for 15 weeks with a diminishing number of beautiful women (ages 23-32). He gradually weeds them out until One remains: The One. Then he proposes and they live ... As he told the host, "I have this feeling! In my perfectly-toned stomach! That SHE is in that room! She's the One!"

This was the season premier, so I avoided the heavy kissing (et alia) sessions. But the hour consisted of Jake standing at the door to the mansion as five limousines each loaded with five women in evening dress pull up. Each girl has about 30 seconds when she gets out to introduce herself and "make an impression." One girl tripped and fell against the beaming Jake. Another walked up and stuck her hand on his stomach, "I just had to feel these rock-solid abs!" A third felt his arms and asked, "Are these guns registered?"

Hi, Dad!!! I'm on TV!

The camera would intermittently cut to the rapidly-filling-up-with-competing-females parlor. The girls would ooh and aah together over how hot Jake is in person: "I just wanted to rip his clothes off!"

You get the picture.

It would have made an amusing screen-play with an odd premise. Sort of bringing back the harem concept from The King and I for modern women. Except these women had a choice about it. To a certain extent, these are real people playing around with their bodies and their happiness.

I hardly know where to start the commentary, but here were a few points.

1. No wonder people are down on pursuing marriage. If this is a hit show (watched by a couple million people weekly, let's say), then the meat market these women and Jake are participating in degrades both sexes. The man is reduced to this piece of rock-hard abs, hanging out in a life of absolute luxury, and weighing his preferences: blond or brunette? yacht or plane? smart or ditzy? He has no need to win a woman's love, because--heck!--they all want him. The women are reduced to their looks (no "More To Love" contestants here), their willingness to exhibit themselves, and must become the pursuers in order to win the prize. If that is the dating game, forget it.

2. But stranger situations have produced marriages that work. True, but the problem with this show is that these people are professedly seeking to commit their entire lives--the everyday as well as the extraordinary--to one person. "Getting to know" your future spouse can't just be about a fake Hollywood mansion, fake dates, set-up and scheduled make-out sessions, and carefully crafted social situations. Why? Because real life is not like that. To prepare for real life with someone, try living real life with that someone for a while.

3. Well, it's sort of like arranged marriages. No. Arranged marriages are made by the parents of the man and woman, who know their children and--hopefully--have their best interests in mind. They share certain values--beyond piloting airplanes or a passions for football--that will hopefully give the arranged couple a leg up. And usually, in cultures supporting arranged marriage, I believe the woman remains fully clothed at least up to a certain point.

4. Where's the FOCUS form? Or at least an eHarmony questionnaire? There was absolutely no mention of what sort of process these women went through to reach the Big Meeting with Jake. I have my own issues with "Find Your Perfect Partner" surveys, but they're better than nothing. There really are some basic issues on which future spouses should be compatible. Nothing is impossible with God, but it sure helps grace if nature does its part. Finances, living space, cleanliness, and most importantly having and raising children--these are things that must be talked through. I'm not hopeful that The Bachelor will be bringing up household chores on that beach.

But maybe I'm wrong.

Sigh.

There's so much more to say, but sometimes we just sigh and pray.

He says it all.

I was thinking about a post on marriage. But then Aaron Martin just said what I wanted to say. By the way, the answer is, NO, the YouTube video is not worth 5 minutes of your time. But the rest of his post is.

Pulling together.

Am I ready to ask the question? A Holy Experience shares an intimate moment.

Vacation.

The Philosopher Mom and Scientist Dad, together with the various progeny, are sequestered up in the deep greens of New Hampshire. It promises to be three weeks of deep breaths, long walks in the woods, maybe deer and bullfrogs at twilight, and good food with family.

It is good that we are here.

There can be few gifts sweeter in life than a family home to which we can return. There are certainly few joys that prophesy more keenly the joy of heaven, our final home. I can hardly grasp the enormity of this gift: to be with those who have known you from your first breath, to be at one in heart and mind concerning the Final Things, to laugh at the same jokes, and to enjoy peace and prosperity while knowing they are not ends in themselves. Many families, I know, plan and long for this to be theirs without ever seeing it come to pass. I will take these days to be grateful and to pray for them.

We are resting and recovering from the storms now, readying our hearts for whatever the divine will has for us in the coming months. It is good.

Pseudogamy and the beauty of marriage.

Anthony Esolen, a professor at Providence College and editor of Touchstone, has a beautiful exhortation up on the magazine's blog page. He contemplates the reality of marriage, society's deep need for marriage, and its tragic violation. Complete with Dante and Augustine, he offers some compelling and--if not unique--at least oft-forgotten insight:

"Marriage -- marriage such as Jesus defined it -- is the foundation of society not simply because it is the best environment for raising children, though it is. It is the foundation because in it man and woman commit themselves one to another, as if they were, so to speak, gods freely bestowing freedom upon what they create. They are like God Himself in that free and freedom-making relinquishment of themselves, and they find themselves in that greater thing they create, the one flesh, the love that embraces them and that stands as an example to all others of the beauty and grandeur of that complete gift."

Really the best witness to that grandeur is the faithful marriage. I have been blessed to witness many faithful marriages, some are good and wholesome, others filled to overflowing with pain. But fidelity to the vows--in and out of season--has its own inimitable joy. And then, at the end, when one spouse has died, and the marriage is over, that joy overflows. It is finished!

Esolen is much more articulate, so give him a read.