Reading Romans

The Lectionary recently turned to Paul’s letter to the Romans for the first reading at weekday masses. It started on October 12 (Monday of the 28th week of Ordinary Time) and will continue until November 7 (Saturday of the 31st week of Ordinary Time). I’ve been reading and re-reading chapters 4 through 8, and my feeble mind has been struggling to follow Paul’s logic without falling into a Manichean duality (spirit good, body bad!), but I think I’m slowly getting there. I’d like, therefore, to take this moment to whole-heartedly agree with St. Peter that Paul’s “letters contain some things that are hard to understand, which ignorant and unstable people distort, as they do the other Scriptures, to their own destruction.” (2 Peter 3:16).

She Is Beauty

The guest last week on Life on the Rock (I typically listen to the program on podcast the week after it airs) was Eric Genuis, a composer and concert pianist. I was previously familiar with his work only in connection to the Passion meditation performed by Radix (Doug Barry acting with Eric Genuis providing live musical accompaniment).

Toward the end of the program, Eric discusses some of his charitable involvement, and his enthusiasm for working with the pro-life movement. It turns out that some of his motivation comes from his own daughter.

I have a daughter with Down syndrome. She’s five years old. I call her the Master of Disaster. There is nothing in my house she can’t break. I promise you that. She’s a beautiful little girl. Through abortion, most – a high percentage, over 90 percent of these children – when detected early, they are aborted, and it just breaks my heart. I cannot tell you the gift this child is. If you gave me a magic wand, I wouldn’t change her for the world. This girl is love itself. She is beautiful.

I talk about her at every concert, because you know there’s going to be someone in that audience who has a relationship in the future – some cousin or aunt or uncle – that may end up with a child or know somebody who may be pregnant with a child who has Down syndrome or with other defects. You realize we are made in the image of God. That alone gives us dignity, not what we accomplish. But my daughter has the same dignity. She’ll never be a beauty queen, she’ll never be a rocket scientist, but she is beauty, just inherently because she is made in the image of God. And so, I think more than ever, we have to really fight for life now.

The Return of Masculine Catholicism

Inside Catholic recently ran a feature that first appeared in the July 2007 issue of Crisis Magazine, The New Catholic Manliness. The opening paragraph hooked me, and I had to read the whole thing.

It is a source of no small irony that, even as radical feminists within and without the Church have railed for two generations against patriarchy and phallocentrism, it can be quite plausibly said that the post-conciliar Church in this country has, for all intents and purposes, been run by women.

What I found was a refreshing defense of masculine Catholicism, of which I, being a man, am a big fan. The author, Todd Aglialoro, goes into the past and traces the arc of the pendulum from what it could be argued was a male-dominated Church in the 1950s through what came to be a feminized Church following Vatican II, to what in some ways is a Church re-discovering its masculinity today.

Let me say now, as clearly as I can, that I believe there is room for both masculine and feminine spirituality within the Church. I even engage in and benefit from some pious devotions and practices that tend toward the feminine side of the scale. But men need masculine ways to relate to God and to live out their vocations as husbands and fathers.

The Psalmist declares, “For you light my lamp, O Lord; my God brings light to my darkness. For with you I will attack the enemy’s squadrons; with my God I will leap over their wall.” (Psalm 18) The imagery is distinctly masculine, as it is when the Psalms speak of the blessed man contending with the enemies at the gates (Psalm 127). Elizabeth Scalia notes that St. Catherine of Siena wrote to Pope Gregory XI, “Be a manly man. . . I wish to see you as a manly man so that you may serve the Bride of Christ without fear, and work spiritually and temporally for the glory of God according to the needs of that sweet Bride in our times.”

Men need models of authentic manliness in order to clearly distinguish virtuous masculinity from its macho imitation. Women also need to see models of masculinity in order to know that it does not in any way demean or subjugate them or their femininity. Our children need to be very carefully taught that godliness is not a sign of weakness, and that real men are selfless and sacrificial.

The future of our civilization just might depend upon it.

The Value of Special Needs Children

Archbishop Charles Chaput of Denver seems to be everywhere these days. Most recently, Catholic News Agency reported on remarks made by Chaput to the Phoenix Catholic Physicians’ Guild, where he spoke at length about our societal attitudes towards those with physical and mental disabilities, especially those with Down syndrome.

“Parents of children with special needs, special education teachers and therapists, and pediatricians who have treated children with disabilities often have a hugely life-affirming perspective. Unlike prenatal caregivers, these professionals have direct knowledge of persons with special needs. They know their potential. They’ve seen their accomplishments. They can testify to the benefits – often miraculous – of parental love and faith. Expectant parents deserve to know that a child with Down syndrome can love, laugh, learn, work, feel hope and excitement, make friends, and create joy for others. These things are beautiful precisely because they transcend what we expect. They witness to the truth that every child with special needs has a value that matters eternally.”

The full text of his remarks can be found at the Archdiocese of Denver website, and they are well worth reading in toto. They will resonate with any parent of a special needs child.

This is not the first time Archbishop Chaput has made public comments about our need to welcome in life those with special needs. In August, he wrote a column for the Denver Catholic Register, Health Care and the Common Good. In it, he argued against any system that allows or funds the killing of unborn children or discrimination against the elderly and persons with special needs. He cites an email that he received from a young mother on the east coast whose second child was born with Down syndrome. She worries that the health care overhaul bill that eventually emerges from Congress will put bureaucrats in charge of making decisions regarding the care received by her daughter and she believes that they “don't know -- or don't care to know -- the value and blessedness of a child with special needs. And I don't trust them to mold policy that accounts for my daughter in all of her humanity or puts ‘value’ on her life.”

Archbishop Chaput understands and shares the concerns of parents who have special needs kids. He understands that the common good does not reduce to a return on investment calculation. And he shares our concern that the health care reform that we end up with will be the wrong sort of health care reform.

Small Town Law Enforcement

Living in a rural village is not like living in a city. I’ve often commented that the bad thing about living in a small town is that everyone knows your business, but the good thing about living in a small town is that everyone knows your business. You sacrifice your anonymity, but that’s not a bad thing. You become accountable to others, but you know that your neighbor’s got your back.

The lack of anonymity transfers in unusual ways to law enforcement practices. We appreciate the efforts of our police officers, even if outsiders might sometimes consider them extreme. Our officers don’t typically sit idly in their patrol cars – they drive the streets and, you know, patrol. In doing so, they become familiar with the territory. If they spot an unfamiliar vehicle, it’s not unusual for them to run the tags as a precaution.

And if you’re passing through town, you might want to drive very carefully.

Our Knights of Columbus field agent shared with us a story about an encounter with our local cops. He was driving through town, and got pulled over. The officer told him that he (our agent) had Montgomery County tags, and he (the officer) had been looking for an excuse to pull him over and check him out. When our agent failed to use his turn signal, the officer had his excuse. For those unfamiliar with our local geography, we are located three counties away from Montgomery County, home of the big bad city of Dayton, Ohio. Our agent, after having his driver’s license run through the system, was sent on his way with a warning.

Some people might consider this harassment. However, those of us who our men in blue have sworn to serve and protect, can draw no small measure of comfort from their vigilance.

Reflections on Turning Forty

“Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.” Different variations on this quote have been attributed to Abraham Lincoln, which is somewhat odd, given that what I’ve read of the great man indicates that he often found himself in a mood that was definitely not happy. It is possible, I suppose, that Lincoln was speaking of the happiness that transcends mere emotion.

The quote came to mind to me on the occasion of my 40th birthday. My person, unfortunately, is not so tightly integrated that I can tell myself how to feel about something. My emotions are what they are, and the most I can hope to do is manage them and keep them from by-passing my intellect to influence my actions. No matter how often I tell myself that this milestone doesn’t really mean anything, it’s impossible to shake the nagging feeling that a threshold has been crossed.

When I was in my thirties, I could run or lift weights, secure in the knowledge that I was taking care of myself. Now, in my forties, it suddenly seems more like a vain and futile attempt to stave off the inevitable. That’s a sentiment that’s not born in any rational part of my brain; it comes from somewhere else.

Perhaps coincidentally, Joe Carter over at the First Thoughts blog posted an excerpt from a book on spiritual depression, which seems to suggest that if we listen to ourselves less and talk to ourselves more, we’ll be more emotionally happy. I already do a lot of that, and I have yet to argue myself into a good mood. At some point, I have to rest my argument, for fear that my self will devolve into a parody (!) of an old Al Franken skit on Saturday Night Live.

Here are some considerations. If eighty is an average life span, then forty is middle age. According to the 2005 actuarial table published by our federal government, at the age of 40, I have approximately 37.3 years left. I actually entered middle age somewhere between my 38th and 39th birthdays.

I expect that I’ll probably have to keep working for at least 30 more years. I functionally became an adult (i.e., started paying my own way) when I graduated from college 17 years ago, and I’ve really only been contributing to the private sector for 12 years. I could argue, therefore, that I’m nowhere near the middle of my adult life.

Age itself is only a statistic. It can’t be anything more than a general indicator of health, wellness, and maturity. I should really avoid comparing myself to other men on the basis of age alone. I should really avoid comparing myself to other men period. I am my own man! And yet age determines when we can drive, vote, drink, and qualify for senior citizen and retirement benefits. It might someday be determinative of whether we will receive life-saving or extending medical care.

Should I live my life any differently at forty than I did at thirty? Only to the extent that I find myself in different circumstances – time marches relentlessly on; there is no going back. At thirty, I had three kids with one on the way, and the oldest was five. At forty, I have six kids with one on the way, and the oldest is fifteen. Different circumstances demand different behavior. I have to believe that if I were 35 or 45, my choices today would not be any different.

I keep telling myself that age doesn’t matter! Forty is a meaningless number! If I keep repeating it to myself, I might even believe it.

Now where do I get in line to buy my sportscar?

Interveiw With a … er, With Me

A few weeks ago, I was approached by Fellman Anthony, a Catholic blogger who, for some reason, was interested in interviewing me for a project on his blog. I eventually took the time to sit down and answer his questions:

1. What is the biggest challenge to your faith that you have faced so far?
2. What scripture do you find yourself turning to most often?
3. How do you think God is revealing his presence to us in the world today?
4. Do you have a book that you would recommend to people trying to develop their spirituality?
5. Why do you think bad things happen to good people?
6. What have you found is the most effective way to introduce the word of God to a nonbeliever?
7. Do you have a favorite saint and if so, why?

To see how I answered, visit Fellman’s blog at Learning to be Quick to Listen

The Lamp of the Body

I noticed an interesting thing when I sat down last night to read today’s Lectionary readings. The Lectionary skips over Luke 11:33-36. This morning, I dug through the Lectionary to see if perhaps the passage is used anywhere else. Nope. I could find no instance in which Luke 11:33-36 is the Gospel read at mass (granted, it was only a five-minute search, based on an online version of the Lectionary – I welcome corrections). It’s passages like this, which the typical Catholic is likely never to have seen or heard, that I find among the most fascinating, and this one is fairly cryptic.

No one who lights a lamp hides it away or places it (under a bushel basket), but on a lampstand so that those who enter might see the light. The lamp of the body is your eye. When your eye is sound, then your whole body is filled with light, but when it is bad, then your body is in darkness. Take care, then, that the light in you not become darkness. If your whole body is full of light, and no part of it is in darkness, then it will be as full of light as a lamp illuminating you with its brightness.

I read the passage once, and then I read it again. Then I got my wife’s attention, and I said to her, “Hey Amy, what do you make of this?” Then I read it to her. “The lamp is our talents,” she said matter-of-factly. “Okay, but this says the lamp is the eye. What’s all this eye stuff about?” She shrugged, and then asked, “Why are you trying to interpret it? We’re not supposed to do that, are we?” So then I had to go into an aside about the four senses of scripture and how we are indeed supposed to interpret scripture, provided we follow the rules. Both the senses and the rules are covered in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (109-119).

What we came up with, using the lamp as talents analogy and the immediate context of Luke 11 as a guide, is that each of us has been endowed by our Creator with certain natural gifts. St. Paul might extend that to include spiritual gifts as well. We can use those gifts for good or ill. If we put our talents or gifts to uses that are at cross-purposes with what God intended when he made us and gave us those gifts, then our eye is bad, and our body is in darkness. If we cooperate with God’s grace, then we will see clearly, and our body will be in light, and our actions will lead others to the light. We have to have a certain clarity of vision in order to properly use our gifts so as to be a light to others. We have to be diligent to remove even the splinters from our eyes, once we’ve removed the planks. Deliberate, conscious hypocrisy simply will not do.

As always, it seems like it should be so much easier than it actually is in practice. As much as we want to be good, our fallen nature makes it difficult. Even when we see clearly, we can’t always subdue our will. It’s like trying to follow directions while driving. Sometimes we know that we have a right turn coming up, but we see the street sign too late to make the turn. In my struggle to conform myself to Christ, I often pray the three-fold prayer: to see thee more clearly, to love thee more dearly, to follow thee more nearly. Knowledge of Christ leads to love of Christ, which leads to imitation of Christ, through which others will see Christ in us. Lord, let us be children of light! Banish from us all darkness that clouds our vision, that we may be light to others.

What's Your Favorite Food?

My dear middle daughter (one of them) came to me last night with a question. “Dad, what’s your favorite food?” I thought for just a moment, then answered, “Bacon.”

“What?!” The look on her face told me that I had given the wrong answer.

“Uh, steak?” Her expression told me that she still wasn’t getting the answer she expected or wanted. “Ooh, asparagus!”

“Oh, never mind.”

It occurs to me today that she might be planning something special for my birthday. A thick juicy steak, wrapped in bacon, with a side of asparagus would be nice.

What We Teach Our Young Athletes

Do you mind if I vent a bit? I’m just being polite; the vent is going to happen whether you mind or not. This vent or rant or whatever you want to call it really doesn’t have anything to do with the things that might normally lead someone to read this blog. As a parent of two kids in school sports programs, I’ve got some things that I’ve just got to get off my chest.

Let’s start with high school football. My son is a freshman, and I’ll grant you that he’s not the greatest athlete in the world. I wasn’t either as a high school freshman. But the kid’s got lots of genetic potential that could blossom during his junior and senior year. The problem is that I don’t think the program is seriously interested in developing potential.

Our school has a small squad of freshman players. Some of the freshmen were called up to play at the varsity level, so after only two freshman games, the rest of the freshman schedule was cancelled. The varsity and junior varsity squads were recently decimated by a scandal that resulted in seven players being suspended for the remainder of the season. And so, on the most recent Saturday, the junior varsity game saw a total of 18 players suited up. One of those players had his arm in a cast, and another spent the entire second half of the game with ice on his leg. The quarterback was only playing on offense, leaving a total of 15 players available to play defense. You would expect, therefore, that all of the players would be rotated in, so that they could get some experience. After all, the JV game matters about as much as a varsity scrimmage. That is to say, the final score doesn’t matter at all, because there’s no conference JV trophy awarded at the end of the season. The whole purpose is to develop the younger players (unless I’m missing something). But there were two freshman players (my son being one), who got next to no playing time.

Playing time is not the root of my complaint, development is. During practice, the players will occasionally run drills in which they go head-to-head with another player. During those drills, my son is always paired with the other freshman tackle, who just happens to be the other freshman who gets next to no playing time. The other freshman tackle also happens to be the smallest player on the team and, until recently diagnosed with a pulled muscle, thought that he had a hernia. How are either of these two players supposed to improve their skills?

Another example? My player informs me that they never run the plays. The varsity squad runs the plays, and the JV players are expected to learn the plays by watching the varsity squad and studying the play book. I hope you’ll excuse me if I say that I think this is nuts! On the rare occasion that my son does get to play, he’s expected to execute plays that he’s never had the chance to practice! I can, to some extent, forgive him, therefore, when he has to concentrate on remembering what he’s supposed to do during a play. During one play on the one defensive series that he played on Saturday, the running back for the opposing team ran past him on the line. I asked him about that after the game. His response was that the back ran through “B” gap, and on that play, he is supposed to plug “A” gap. The center was responsible for “B” gap. I can tell him that he needs to react to the ball, but at the same time, I can forgive him for not wanting to mis-execute a play that he’s barely had time to practice.

Can I make one more football complaint? Before the home games, in the locker room, the players are force to listen to music by Taylor Swift. I have nothing against Taylor Swift; she seems like a sweet girl. But her music is not going to get football players pumped up for what is, inherently, a violent, full-contact contest. The junior high volleyball players get to listen to more aggressive music! But I also object to the obnoxious and vulgarity-laced rap by Ice Cube (with vocal assist by Snoop Dogg) that was played following the team’s sole win of the season. Team captains should be given some leeway in selecting the locker room music, but not free rein!

In spite of this, my freshman still looks at the pre-season poster, with the photos of the seniors around the edge, and expects to see his picture there three years from now. I hope that he still feels that way next year.

I can’t say the same thing regarding my eighth-grade daughter. The eighth grade volleyball team has nine players this year. With six on the court at a time, that leaves three subs. Two of those subs get next to no playing time. In one recent match, the eighth grade team lost both games (the first team to win two games wins the match, so all matches are either two or three games), and my daughter didn’t get to step foot on the court until the last three points of the second game. We complained after that, so in the next match, after not playing at all in the first game, our daughter played one full rotation in the second game, during which she made no mistakes that cost her team a point. When she left the game, the score was tied. The team went on to lose, with my daughter spending the rest of the game on the sideline. She gets to watch other girls make mistakes that cost the team points, while she doesn’t even get the chance to contribute either way. She’s frustrated, her mother is frustrated, and it is very unlikely that she’ll even be interested in trying to play at the high school level. Whatever flicker of potential there might have been has been effectively crushed.

This past summer, she played pony-league softball. Our village fields teams that compete against other villages with schools in the same athletic conference as our school. We didn’t quite have enough girls to field three teams, so we ended up with two teams with large rosters. During games, ten of the girls take to the field at a time, but all of the girls on the roster are included in the batting line-up. To make things a little bit manageable during the season, each girl on the team was asked to pick two games to sit out. This gave all of the girls on the team a chance to get a little more playing time in the field. I could understand this. But when it came time for the tournament, the coach asked certain girls not to show up, so that he wouldn’t have to include them in the lineup. Understandably, those asked not to show were a little miffed.

Sports are a wonderful thing, or at least they can be. I’ve been able to draw a lot of life-lessons from my own experience with running. The things I learned from my own participation in high school cross country and wrestling were that perseverance and hard work paid off, mostly through the principle of delayed gratification. Sometimes, however, I have to wonder just what it is that our children are supposed to be learning from all of this. My daughter is displaying an impressive amount of stoic poise, and my son is learning to accept defeat. Beyond that, the lesson seems to be that only the starters matter, and that is the wrong lesson, not least because it is short-sighted and ensures that any team success will last only as long as the current group of naturally-talented players.

The Rich Young Man

Fr. Robert Barron has an excellent sermon for the encounter between Jesus and the rich young man, which we hear about in today’s Gospel selection. Fr. Barron asserts that Jesus called the young man to heroic virtue. He admits that he is following, in this sermon, the interpretation given by Pope John Paul II in Veritatis Splendor.

The young man aspires to something more than he has known in just obeying every jot and tittle of the Law. As John Paul II wrote, “For the young man, the question is not so much about rules to be followed, but about the full meaning of life. This is in fact the aspiration at the heart of every human decision and action, the quiet searching and interior prompting which sets freedom in motion. This question is ultimately an appeal to the absolute Good which attracts us and beckons us; it is the echo of a call from God who is the origin and goal of man's life.” Jesus loved him for it, and challenged him to true spiritual heroism. John Paul II believed that the young man’s question and Christ’s answer were critical for us: “If we therefore wish to go to the heart of the Gospel's moral teaching and grasp its profound and unchanging content, we must carefully inquire into the meaning of the question asked by the rich young man in the Gospel and, even more, the meaning of Jesus' reply, allowing ourselves to be guided by him. Jesus, as a patient and sensitive teacher, answers the young man by taking him, as it were, by the hand, and leading him step by step to the full truth.”

Note that Jesus does not dismiss the importance of obeying the Law; rather, he highlights that it does not end there. John Paul II: “Jesus tells the young man: ‘If you wish to enter into life, keep the commandments’ (Mt 19:17). In this way, a close connection is made between eternal life and obedience to God's commandments: God's commandments show man the path of life and they lead to it. From the very lips of Jesus, the new Moses, man is once again given the commandments of the Decalogue. Jesus himself definitively confirms them and proposes them to us as the way and condition of salvation.”

Fr. Barron points out that some of the Protestant reformers interpreted this Gospel scene as a “gotcha” moment, in which Jesus points to the futility of obeying the Law. He finds fault with this interpretation, and John Paul II notes that this scene must be interpreted in the context of the rest of the Gospel, especially the Sermon on the Mount and the Beatitudes.

Ultimately, the young man goes away sad, because he is unable to renounce his possessions to follow the way of perfection to which Jesus has called him. Fr. Barron notes that this is the only instance recorded in the Gospel where Jesus’ invitation to follow him is rejected. Even so, the rejection is not in anger or pride, but in sadness. How, we are always invited to ask, does this Gospel apply to me? How do I respond to the invitation of Christ. John Paul II again: “This vocation to perfect love is not restricted to a small group of individuals. The invitation, ‘go, sell your possessions and give the money to the poor’, and the promise ‘you will have treasure in heaven’, are meant for everyone, because they bring out the full meaning of the commandment of love for neighbour, just as the invitation which follows, ‘Come, follow me’, is the new, specific form of the commandment of love of God. Both the commandments and Jesus' invitation to the rich young man stand at the service of a single and indivisible charity, which spontaneously tends towards that perfection whose measure is God alone: ‘You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect’ (Mt 5:48). In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus makes even clearer the meaning of this perfection: ‘Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful’ (Lk 6:36).”

I don’t want to be the one who, upon receiving the invitation, turns away sadly. Lord, please give me the grace that I need to heed and respond to your call.

Bone of My Bones

I’d like to mention just one more time (for now) that I find great significance in the way that the human family with husband, wife, and children, images the Holy Trinity with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The language of Sunday’s first reading, from Genesis, mirrors this as well. Adam says of the woman, “This one, at last, is bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh.”

Doesn’t that sound amazingly similar to the description of the Son in the Nicene Creed: God from God, light from light, true God from true God? God the Son images God the Father, and the woman images the man. God is love, and the love that is shared between God the Father and God the Son is so perfect, that it proceeds from the Father and the Son as God the Holy Spirit. The love that exists between a man and a woman joined in marriage is so strong, that it proceeds forth as a new person, born from the womb of the woman.

I am not worthy of the great gift that God has given me: the chance to be a living icon of the Trinity! I certainly did not appreciate the full depth of the vocation to marriage when my wife and I exchanged vows. Even now, the full depth of meaning has yet to penetrate my consciousness. O Lord, help me to be worthy of this vocation!

It Is Not Good

After the first six days of creation, God repeatedly looked upon what he has made, and declared it good. It stands, therefore, in stark contrast when we read in Genesis 2:18 that “God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone.’” There are two directions to go with this. First, that man is meant to live in community, with communal life finding its ultimate fulfillment in incorporation into the body of Christ. Within the body of Christ, each member is distinct and interdependent. No one member can realize his full potential without the rest of the body.

The second direction would be the fulfillment of man’s creation in the image of the Trinitarian God through the complementary pairing of male and female in the vocation of marriage. Genesis 2:24 seems to endorse this interpretation: “Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh.” The man and the woman need one another to fully realize God’s image, with the fruit of their love emanating forth in a manner analogous to the way in which the Holy Spirit proceeds forth from the Father and the Son. The gaping whole in this interpretation is the holiness of the celibate life.

Certainly, we can say that man is called to live in community, and that this call to community is realized in a special way through the sacrament of marriage. In the Gospel (Mark 10:2-12), Jesus notes that the allowance of divorce was only a concession that Moses made for the hardness of the Israelites’ hearts. In the new covenant, that concession would not be needed. God joins together the husband and wife in an indissoluble bond. Divorce does not free an individual to remarry. The words of Christ are pretty darn clear on this point.

Even in the Old Testament, it is clear that divorce is not part of God’s plan for his people. In Malachi 2:14-16 reads “The Lord was witness to the covenant between you and the wife of your youth, to whom you have been faithless, though she is your companion and your wife by covenant. Has not the one God made and sustained for us the spirit of life? And what does he desire? Godly offspring. So take heed to yourselves, and let none be faithless to the wife of his youth. ‘For I hate divorce, says the Lord the God of Israel.’”

Too many people get married today thinking that marriage is about self-actualization, or they think of it as a 50-50 partnership. Marriage is not about self actualization, marriage is about sacrifice, as Christ sacrificed himself for his bride, the Church. Marriage is also not about each spouse contributing half, but rather each spouse contributing everything they’ve got. They are no longer two, but one flesh.

I can imagine that sermons based on this weekend’s Sunday mass readings are difficult for divorced Catholics to hear. Regardless, it is the clear and constant teaching of the Church, based on the words of our Lord. If it is unpleasant for some to hear, it says more about those who don’t want to receive the hard sayings than it does about the so-called failure of the Church to adapt to modern realities. Perhaps if these teachings were more widely received, the modern realities would not be quite so unpleasant.

Big Bang God

Not long ago, I wrote a post noting that faith and science seem to be intersecting a lot lately. Yesterday, the Catholic News Agency ran a story that I want to highlight as another instance in which science, rather than rebutting belief in God, reinforces it.

The CNA story reported on the remarks of Jesuit Fr. Robert Spitzer at a conference in Denver.

“Theism, in fact, can be better explained by contemporary science and modern philosophy better than ever before, but particularly interesting is what is happening in the field of astrophysics ... to the point that I can't imagine why agnosticism and Atheism are still popular,” Fr. Spitzer said.

For those interested, a footnoted paper, Indications of Creation in
Contemporary Big Bang Cosmology, going into all of the more technical aspects related to Fr. Spitzer’s assertions was written in 2004 and is available on the internet.

Some of the comments to the CAN story from unfriendly readers are amusing and predictable. One argues that there are infinite universes and therefore, no matter how small a probability might be, at least one will meet the conditions. I suppose that means that there are an infinite number of universes, less one, in which everything falls apart. Another commenter asks, if God caused the Big Bang, then who or what caused God? Some people just don’t seem to be able (or willing) to understand what God is.

Saint Michael and Me

Many years ago, when I was preparing for Confirmation, we were encouraged to be confirmed under a saint’s name. In doing so, we would establish a kind of patronage, a special relationship with that saint. I don’t remember much from that eighth-grade year, but I remember reading the prayer to St. Michael the Archangel (“defend us in battle ... O prince of the heavenly hosts ...”) and seeing a depiction of St. Michael wearing a breastplate, wielding a sword, and standing over a defeated devil. That warrior spirit appealed to me, and so I was confirmed under the name Michael.

I haven’t done much to live up to that warrior ideal. Too often, it seems as though I don’t even do enough to defend my own family against the assaults of a decadent culture. We keep the worst of it out, but some of the subtle stuff gets in by flying under the radar. I justify it to myself by arguing that exposure to the minor stuff (along with some contextualization) will allow my young charges develop the necessary antibodies (metaphorically speaking) to avoid a full-blown infection when they are finally exposed, as adults, to the really nasty stuff.

As for St. Michael, the Church’s liturgical calendar ensures that once a year (today, September 29!), we celebrate the feast of the Archangels. Therefore, once a year, I am reminded that I chose St. Michael as my patron and am called to imitate his example. It matters not how well I have followed his example in the past, what matters is how well I follow his example here and now. On that day approximately 25 years ago, when I was anointed with the sacred chrism, I received the gift of the Holy Spirit and commissioned into the service of the Lord, and I effectively promised in a particular way to imitate St. Michael the Archangel. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel any different the day after my Confirmation than I did the day before. Yet our faith teaches us that I was marked with a seal that day. St. Michael continues (and will continue) to have a special significance for me.

St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray.
And do thou, O prince of the heavenly hosts,
By the power of God,
Thrust into hell Satan, and all the evil spirits,
Who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.
Amen.

Science and the New Atheists

It seems as though every way I turn recently, I come upon the intersection of faith and science and the new atheists. Just yesterday, there was an excellent article by Mark Shea at Catholic Exchange, in which he examined the arguments of the new atheists in a Thomistic fashion. Expanding upon some of the comments that he made during his recent appearance on Catholic Answers, Mr. Shea lays out five arguments (two good and three really weak) against the existence of God. Namely,:

Objection 1: The Argument from Evil
Objection 2: The Everything-Works-Fine-Without-God Argument
Objection 3: The Argument from Intellectual Maturity
Objection 4: Argumentum Contra Suckers
Objection 5: Argument from Chronological Snobbery

The first two objections are the only reasonable objections, according to St. Thomas Aquinas, and he dealt with them hundreds of years ago. For a full breakdown of how the five arguments are most commonly expressed in modern times, I encourage you to read Mr. Shea’s article, Padding the Case for the New Atheism.

I said there were multiple dots to connect, besides Mr. Shea’s, and so there are. Very recently, Dr. Benjamin Wiker, author of The Darwin Myth, was a guest on EWTN’s Life on the Rock. Dr. Wiker is not a proponent of a young earth theory, nor does he deny the mechanism of evolution in the development of species. In fact, he asserts that anyone who believes the earth is only 6,000 years old and God planted fossil evidence in order to test man’s faith is flirting with heresy because it implies that God himself is inherently deceptive. What Wiker objects to is the Darwinist ideology that holds a purely materialist view of evolution, with God’s participation excluded. The Church has nothing to fear from science.

Br. Guy Consolmagno was a guest on Catholic Answers for a show titled, The Christian Roots of Science. Brother Guy is a Jesuit with a PhD in Planetary Science, and he has conducted his research from the Vatican Observatory since 1993. As can be expected, the subject of Galileo’s trial by the Church was raised. It really wasn’t about his scientific theories, except maybe to the extent that he might have tried to assert that science trumped Revelation. Plus his persecution had to be among the mildest in recorded history.

Today, I happened to listen to the second hour of Monday’s Catholics Answers Live, in which Mark Brumley, the President of Ignatius Press, was the guest for Why Arguments for God are Important. Mr. Brumley noted that there are three reasons why even faithful, believing Christians should be familiar with the arguments in favor of God’s existence: our own faith is strengthened in the process, it aids our evangelizing efforts in being able to make the case to non-believers, and it clarifies in our own mind exactly who and what God is. It just so happens that Ignatius Press publishes a book, the Handbook of Catholic Apologetics, that has an entire chapter devoted to presenting 20 different arguments for the existence of God. I would be surprised if the five classic proofs of St. Thomas Aquinas weren’t the first five covered.

Finally, at least for now, was last Thursday’s Evening Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours:

Lord, it is your will that men use their minds to unlock nature’s secrets and master the world, may the arts and sciences advance your glory and the happiness of all peoples.

Now I have to ask, does that sound like a Church that is hostile toward science?

Extraordinary in the Ordinary

In my bedroom hangs a portrait of a parish priest – Fr. Michael McGivney. For those who might not be familiar with Fr. McGivney, he is responsible for founding the Knights of Columbus in 1885, and his cause for beatification is under review. The postulator for his cause, Fr. Gabriel O’Donnell, was recently a guest on Fr. Mitch Pacwa’s Wednesday evening EWTN Live program, where they discussed the Church’s canonization process and two causes that Fr. O’Donnell is involved with, that of Fr. Michael McGivney and that of Rose Hawthorne. Fr. O’Donnell currently serves as the Academic Dean at the Dominican House of Studies in Washington, DC.

Fr. O’Donnell on why the Church canonizes saints:

The Church chooses certain individuals to canonize so that the ideal for holiness can be enshrined in flesh and blood, we have examples, and the glory of God is manifested in people in their ordinary lives. In fact, I think some theologians today would say that modern saints are often saints of ordinary life. The classic example would be Therese of Liseux, someone who did nothing extraordinary. She was a simple Carmelite nun, but she was extraordinary in the quality of her life – the way she loved, the way she lived with her sisters, etc. And in a way, that’s true of Fr. McGivney. He’s one of those people who lived the ordinary life of a parish priest in an extraordinary way.

Fr. O’Donnell on the canonization process:

The primary issue is, can the Church see in this individual the qualities of what is called heroic virtue. In other words, this person isn’t just a good Christian, but goes above and beyond and is virtuous to such an extent that it’s a kind of martyrdom. They endure all things for Christ. And so the Church’s judgment is always, “Does this candidate have the quality of heroic virtue?” And the whole canonization process is unearthing the proof of whether that’s true, also unearthing the things that might say that it’s not true. So the long process from beginning to canonization is really all about constantly looking at this individual, his life or her life, writings, activities, what they did, what they didn’t do, and always trying to probe, “Can we see the heroism of Jesus Christ in this person?” … Today the process is long, and it’s very complex. There are norms from the Church that govern every step along the way, and the main thrust of the canonization process is really, almost more scientific. You’re gathering a tremendous amount of information through research and then interviewing people who may have known the person or, if the person is long dead, people who know the reputation for holiness. The point of it all is that the norms are only meant to legitimate the ultimate conclusion that this indeed is someone in whom we can see Christ clearly through their life of virtue. And both Fr. McGivney and, I think, Rose Hawthorne qualify for that, even though they’re not yet canonized.

During the question and answer period, a viewer asks whether a Protestant can be canonized. Fr. O’Donnell’s answer:

No, they can’t, because canonization is an act whereby the Church takes a member of the Church and brings him or her forward as an example of heroic virtue. The Church would have no right to investigate or lay claim to that person’s life. I mean, ti would be an invasion, you might say. You can imagine how a family or a church body would be terribly upset if you ever tried to coopt one of their members as a Catholic martyr or saint. So no, the church only beatifies and canonizes baptized Catholics.

As with most EWTN programs, a podcast of the program is available in the archives (I really love those archives). For more information on Fr. McGivney and his cause, visit the website of the Father Michael J. McGivney Guild.

You Pull, I'll Push

Last week was the one-year anniversary of the death of a remarkable man. Remarkable in the sense that his life and death are worthy of being remarked upon. That man was Thomas Vander Woude, who died in Virginia on September 8, 2008.

Mr. Vander Woude, a retired airline pilot, was tending to his small farm when his youngest son, Joseph, fell through the cover of a septic tank. Joseph, 20 years old at the time of the accident, is the youngest of seven brothers, and he happens to have Down Syndrome. Mr. Vander Woude jumped into the tank to save his son. It is reported that his last words, spoken to a hired hand, were, “You pull, I’ll push.” Joseph was saved, and spent five days recovering in the hospital. Thomas was lost, his life sacrificed for that of his son.

What became obvious in the days following Thomas Vander Woude’s death was that he died as he had lived. In life, he embodied many of the ideals of the loving husband and father. He was able to die well because he had lived well.

His oldest son, a priest for the Diocese of Arlington, VA, was a guest on EWTN’s Life on the Rock last week. He noted that his father would have been mortified by all of the attention being paid to him. He also noted that his dad would have been among the first to note his own faults. And yet, he remains an individual who embraced and lived out his Catholic faith to the fullest. As a husband and a father, he provides a role model for the rest of us to emulate.

At one point in the program, a viewer asks Fr. Vander Woude via email, “I would imagine your father’s glorious death was the crown of his spiritual journey. Can you mention some of the times you noticed your father’s growth in sanctity and in what ways he acted in accord with Our Lord’s grace in order to grow over the years?” Fr. Vander Woude responded, “Definitely. My dad’s life was a very joyful life, but as he grew and got older it was definitely a balance in life as far as the joys and being able to be patient with the inconveniences of life, and whatnot. And so I definitely saw that. And to the point that with my youngest brother, Joesph, doing things that, ultimately you have to laugh. He keeps reminding you of what is most important in life, and that’s what I saw in a particular way with my own dad (and mother). These little things that people oftentimes get upset about, inconveniences around the house – nah.”

At this point, Fr. Mark, who co-hosts the program with Doug Barry interjected, “I’ve heard that so many times from parents of a child who has Down Syndrome or something like that, that it really helps them to shake up their priorities and focus on what’s really important.” To which Fr. Vander Woude added, “And there’s a lot of joy in that as well, and being able to – now it’s just more of a focus out of self. Pope John Paul used to talk a lot about total self-giving. There’s joy in that.”

The audio from the September 10 episode of Life on the Rock is available in the audio library section of the EWTN website. Fr. Roger Landry wrote an excellent account of the life and death of Tom Vander Woude.

The Widow of Niam

by William Baer

Copyright (c) 2008 First Things (June/July 2008).

I follow the rank corpse, holding my breath,
prepared to bury my son forevermore;
a widow left with nothing, nothing but death,
who prays, but doesn’t know what she’s praying for.
Suddenly, the multitudes appear
following the Rabbi at Niam’s Gate,
who meets my eyes and whispers, “Have no fear.”
The funeral procession stops. I wait.
He turns to sees the corpse of my dead son,
then calls out loud, “I say to thee, arise.”
My son sits on his bier, his death undone,
the flash of heaven gleaming in his eyes.
Then, watching Jesus leave, though shocked and numb,
I know that He’s “the one who is to come.”

Killing Cars

Got my October 2009 issue of First Things today. In the back of the journal, where Fr. Richard John Neuhaus used to make his observations, Editor Joseph Bottum now carries the mantle. Among many other things, he comments on an article that appeared in the August 4, 2009 issue of the Wall Street Journal.

Believe it or not, sodium silicate ("liquid glass" to its friends) is in the news. The gederal government gave this unassuming compound a huge boost in popularity by making it the official poison for killing fuel-inefficient cars under its now, alas, bankrupt "Cash-for-Clunkers" program. In a detailed, 136-page manual distributed to dealers, the government mandated that "clunkers" be permanently disabled by running the engine with sodium silicate instead of oil, thereby abrading the engine beyond repair.

Suppliers happily scrambled to meet the sudden demand (the Wall Street Journal reported that one distributor was working "sixteen-hour days"), and across the nation, mechanics were energized by the prospect of a novel thrill: "At dealerships across America, mechanics accustomed to fixing engines are battling for the chance to ruin them. 'Everybody wants to go first, so I'm probably going to have to make them draw straws,' says Jim Burton of Randy Curnow Buick Pontiac GMC in Kansas City, Kansas. As service manager, however, he might reserve that thrill for himself. 'I can't wait,' he says."

By all accounts, the prescribed method is quick, safe, and effective. At one dealership in Kansas, sodium silicate killed a 2002 Ford Windstar and a 1999 Jeep in approximately two minutes. (A 1988 Jeep held out for six minutes. "Sometimes," observed the dealership president, "those old engines are hardest to kill.") The simplicity , efficiency, and dispatch with which this debut federal euthanasia program was administered should help quiet fears that the federal government is incompetent to administer health care.