Worth a Thousand Words

Fence taken by Hey Jules.

Not that I can relate to this personally as the weather just turned an unseasonable 65+ degrees today. I notice that nobody's complaining.

Catholic Media Review is Bursting at the Seams with Great Stuff

I had great hopes for this group media review spot y'all but I am being blown away at the quality and quantity of great writing that is flowing like fine wine over there.

I really didn't expect it to become one of my favorite places for checking out reviews on books and movies. Every time I check it (and that's a lot since I'm working on getting the place set up) there is something else that I have to read or print out for evening perusal. If nothing else, I'm having a great time (and it's all about me right?).

Well, I'm here Jesus, but I'm not happy about it! [Updated]

Nice way to start off a prayer session isn't it?

After about two weeks of spending a certain time each morning in prayer, sometimes getting nice feelings, sometimes getting a bit of enlightenment, sometimes just being there peacefully ... this morning I was in full revolt.

It probably was the first time I've ever come to prayer feeling as like a rebellious kid about to have a tantrum. Oh, I've been mad at God before but this was different. I didn't even have anything in particular that I'd rather have been doing, except anything but be there.

I thought of Fr. Dubay in his series on contemplation which I just finished yesterday. He said that those who practice deep prayer want to spend more and more time with the Beloved. As if I needed the confirmation, but obviously I could check any "deep prayer" off my list.

I'd start a prayer and then stop and look at all the books in the bookcase that I could be reading instead. I'd look at the morning psalm in my recently purchased Christian Prayer, read it through, flip around in a desultory fashion, and think about something (anything) else. Usually I care that I'm being distracted, catch myself and go back to meditation, but this was a seeking out of distractions. Aaargh.

I flipped around the Bible and came to passage after passage that I had marked during my CHRP discernment to be Lay Director. I remembered that glorious time when prayer was so easy, when I could almost actually hear Jesus' voice in the little thoughts that would float in unasked ... that came up with comments in a tone I'd never have used on myself. Well guess what. I didn't care about that now. (Yep, I was in a mood.)

I thought of the many wise people who have pointed out that we need relationship with God and just as you treasure time with your husband you will treasure this time with God. You know what? Sometimes I don't feel like being with Tom. And, sometimes he doesn't feel like being with me.

Yes, I know that God is bigger than all that. Obviously I was much, much smaller than all that ... and I knew it. In the back of my mind, intellectually, I knew it. But I didn't even have enough feelings about it to feel embarrassed or ashamed. It was a fact. I knew it. But I didn't feel it.

And then, in all my flipping, I read this, written by today's saint, Elizabeth Ann Seton:

O Father, the first rule of our dear Savior's life was to do your will. Let his will of the present moment be the first rule of our daily life and work, with no other desire but for its most full and compete accomplishment. Help us to follow it faithfully, so that doing what you wish we will be pleasing to you.

I paused.

The present moment.

I thought back to this article the first part of which was in last week's bulletin ... about meditating, ruminating on God's word.

I thought about relationship.

I thought about the present moment ... talking to God.

I thought about Jesus in my mind's eye. And I started talking. Not to him as God but to him as my brother, as a person, in relationship. I said, "Listen, I'm sorry because I know I've got a lousy attitude and I'm wasting your time here."

Into my head floated the thought, "But you showed up."

"Oh, right," I thought. "How like me to start making excuses right off the bat. Sheez, I am hopeless."

I continued, "Jesus, I know I don't have to feel anything but I am really sorry that I don't even care that I don't care. But there you go, that's where I'm at."

Again the thought, "But you showed up."

Again I dismissed my easy propensity to deflect blame.

I did have the grace to offer prayer for others, especially those most on my heart (and y'all know who you are), figuring that I didn't need to waste all my time.

The timer beeped and I bounded out of there.

Later, washing dishes, making lunches, getting dressed, I kept thinking about that stray thought. "But you showed up."

I suddenly thought of something I'd read (can't remember where or who) that said that we are much harder on ourselves sometimes than our friends would be or that God would ever be.

"But you showed up."

Finally, I got it. I did show up. Before, I wouldn't have bothered spending time at prayer. I'd have said that I had too much to do, didn't have the time, and that I'd make that prayer time up later (famous last words, right?).

However, that option hadn't crossed my mind. I'd been rebellious and snarky as all get out. But I had been there. Even simply going through the motion, I had been there.

That little bit of progress was head and shoulders above anything I've attempted in prayer for the past year, folks. (Yes, I'm baring all, that's for sure.)

It could have been with a better attitude. It could have been with a more open heart. But I was there. Giving God the time to work on me, regardless of my mood, and what's more ... He actually did it.

He did it.

I know that no time at prayer is ever wasted, but this is the first time I've ever thought about the fact that in spite of myself and my best efforts to rebel, God uses that time anyway. Fruitfully.

But he's ever faithful. And all it took was the slightest bit of faithfulness on my part to give him the chance he needed.

How do I feel now?

Grateful.

UPDATE
This morning when I showed up and had that mental moment of quieting my mind down before I began what we would formally recognize as prayer, I got this sense of underlying humor, laughter, and a dig in the ribs. "Oh so nice to see you! And how are we feeling today, missie?"

I am telling you, it was a definite change to begin that time in a fit of giggles.

Worth a Thousand Words

Taken by Paris Daily Photo.

A Little Useless Information

It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information. -- Oscar Wilde

George Washington had to borrow money to go to his own inauguration.

The Book of Useless Information

Worth a Thousand Words

Scottish Not British from Flickr Scotland

Mark Your Calendars

January is pro-life month in a big way!

First of all, we've got the last "First Friday Fast" this week.

Secondly, there is the March for Life on Saturday, January 19. I'll be meeting Mark Windsor and Laura before the 10:00 Mass and then we'll participate in the March to the Federal Courthouse where Roe vs. Wade was originally filed.

I've never done anything like this before so it will be a first for me ... and I'm rather nervous. But what's life without new challenges, right? And this is for the best reason of all ... life.

If anyone else wants to join in, let me know and I'll get the particulars to you about where we're meeting up.

Worth a Thousand Words

One of many images of Reynard Fox to be found at BiblioOdyssey.

Spiritual Resolutions?

And Mary kept all these things,
reflecting on them in her heart.
Luke 2:19

Madelyn asks, "Anything forthcoming on spiritual resolutions?"

The smart aleck's answer (and that would be me) would be that I resolve to sin less and love God more. Big help that answer is, right?

Perhaps if I didn't make that resolution so often it would have more impact when I am making it more.

Seriously though, lately I have been finding the greatest step toward that goal is my determination to have quiet prayer time every morning. So far I have managed to do that for two weeks running. I get up and read the paper, then grab a cup of coffee and go shut myself into the spare bedroom where I have a timer and my bible. The timer is set for 20 minutes, turned with the face away from me (no peeking!) and then I do my best to pray using Scripture. I have had much encouragement to do this from various sources and have to say that I have an overall peace that I do not have otherwise. Sometimes I hit a phrase that echoes in my head and heart and I think about it, sometimes I keep reading the entire time, and sometimes I battle distractions continually. However, I try to always remember that just making the effort is sometimes what God wants, what He will use to teach us.

I will post some of the things that have inspired me to make this attempt and that have come up to encourage me when that 20 minutes seemed like something that I could just as well skip. First up are Stevie's comments about Fr. L's homily from yesterday as I was equally struck, right down to wanting to stand up and clap (yes, Stevie and I are soul-mates and CRHP sisters, so that's the way that goes).

... I was very appreciative of Fr. J's great homily today (so much so that I wanted to stand up and clap when he was done) which gave me a new perspective on this awesome verse. The main message that I got from it was to take time out of our busy schedules each day to ponder in our own hearts what Jesus has done for us and in us so that we can see Him working and moving in our lives. This is something that I really need to do. I don't do the New Year's resolution thing. I know that I won't stick to it which leads to disappointment in myself and I don't need that in my life - especially right now. But, it is the time of year that lends itself to reflection on what we need to change or improve and this is one area of my life that I know needs improvement. Fr. J. just gave me a little more motivation and direction for this quiet time.

Charismatic?

A couple of comments lately made me remember this post from a while back (now that I am looking I can see I wrote this in 2004 .... that seems so long ago doesn't it?). If I am "on fire" or a good witness for what God has done for me, I think that quite a bit of it can be credited to what you read about right here ...


Reading the excellent article about Discernment by Peter Kreeft, I was struck by this:

I assume that many readers of this page are (1) Catholic, (2) orthodox and faithful to the teachings of the church, (3) conservative, and (4) charismatic. I have had many friends -- casual, close, and very close -- of this description for many years. In fact, I fit the description myself.

I kept coming back to it. Peter Kreeft called himself charismatic? Wasn't that speaking in tongues, shouting "Hallelujah, Lord!" with hands in the air, possibly holy rolling? Snakes? No, probably no snakes ... that seemed too extreme. But, he had mentioned also being conservative, orthodox and faithful to the teachings of the church. That did not seem to go with being charismatic.

Worse, yet, when I thought about it, I suddenly realized that I might have some of those charismatic characteristics. I prayed out loud with my CRHP (pronounced "chirp) sisters, we would "pray over" someone who needed it for whatever reason by crowding around and laying our hands on her, we are very into the Holy Spirit ... I really didn't like where this seemed to be going. So I thought that I'd better get a few facts. A short Google later, I was in possession of some very interesting information ... a real definition of a charismatic Christian.

Charismatic is an umbrella term used to describe those Christians who believe that the manifestations of the Holy Spirit seen in the first century Christian Church, such as glossolalia [speaking in tongues], healing and miracles, are available to contemporary Christians and ought to be experienced and practiced today.

The word charismatic is derived from the Greek word charis (meaning a grace or a gift) which is the term used in the Bible to describe a wide range of supernatural experiences (especially in 1 Corinthians 12-14).

Often confused with Pentecostalism (which it was inspired by), Charismatic Christianity tends to differ in key aspects: Charismatics reject the preeminence given by Pentecostalism to glossolalia, reject the legalism sometimes associated with Pentecostalism, and often stay in their existing denominations ...

While Charismatic Christians are not exclusive to any single denomination, Charismatic theology is not uniquely Protestant. There is a burgeoning Charismatic movement within the Catholic Church, and Pope John Paul II is reputed to have a Charismatic Priest as his personal pastor. wordIQ Dictionary & Encyclopedia

So, not necessarily speaking in tongues but primarily very open to the graces, miracles, power and presence of the Holy Spirit. And even the Pope might be on board with this. Ok. I was feeling better, less freakish anyway. In fact, thinking about it, I realized that definition could be used on practically everyone who has gone through the Christ Renews His Parish retreat and formation.

Christ Renews His Parish (CRHP), to which I have referred repeatedly in this blog, is an amazing process. It begins with a two-day retreat held in isolation from the world, but on church premises. The main emphasis during that time is a series of witnesses telling of their personal encounter with Christ based on one of a series of topics, such as Renewal, Reconciliation, Discipleship, etc. There are various other activities that I won't go into here but suffice it to say that you almost can feel the Holy Spirit flowing during that time. The retreat participants can then go on with their "team" to a series of weekly meetings that go on for six months while they study Scripture and prepare to give the next retreat.

Nothing I say here can adequately describe how close that CRHP team becomes and how God works in and through their lives. We shared miracles, graces, answered prayers ... and no speaking in tongues. During that time is when I realized that I suddenly felt about the Holy Spirit as I did about God and Jesus. He was an active participant in my life. The Holy Spirit used CRHP to change my life so much so that sometimes I feel like a different person ... and have had people who knew me before mention it independently.

Mulling all this over and continuing on my Kreeft readings in Fundamentals of the Faith, I came across this passage that pulled it all together for me.

When Paul visits the church in Ephesus (Acts 19), he notices something missing -- I think he would notice exactly the same thing in most of our churches and preach the same sermon -- and he asks them, "Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?" (Acts 19:2). Why would he ask that unless he saw a power shortage? Why did twelve fishermen convert the world, and why are half a billion Christians unable to repeat the feat? The Spirit makes the difference ...

We have received the Spirit by faith and baptism. "Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him" (Rom 8:9). But we need the release, the empowering, the anointing of the Spirit. Such empowerment is probably what the New Testament means by baptism in (or of or with) the Holy Spirit. It is supposed to happen at confirmation. Apparently, it usually does not. Millions of confirmed Catholics receive it afterward, usually in charismatic prayer meetings or seminars. The charismatic movement is obviously God's answer to Pope John XXIII's prayer for a new Pentecost. Popes Paul VI and John Paul II both blessed it but said that it will fulfill its purpose only when, like the early liturgical movement, it ceases to have a separate identity of its own and is absorbed into the whole Church. In other words, every Catholic should be a charismatic, baptized in the Spirit, empowered like the apostles.

The difference this baptism in the Spirit makes is not primarily in any particular charismatic gift, such as tongues. Paul clearly says not to get hung up on tongues (1 Cor 12-14). The difference is far greater: like the difference between a picture and a live person, between dead orthodoxy and living truth, between words and power. If we are not certain that Jesus Christ is present in us, working, acting, making a difference, rather than just being a teacher, an example, a lovely but remote historical figure, then we need Pentecost. And when that happens, the world will be won again.

What CRHP does is just what Kreeft describes above ... it brings a new Pentecost. No wonder people come out of there glowing. Like the apostles they just can't stop telling people the Good News. When you find something like that you want to share it with everyone. Now I finally understood why the apostles had to have the Holy Spirit before they could accomplish anything. It literally changes you from the inside out. No wonder it is called Christ Renews His Parish ... and our priest and deacon are 100% behind it. And I understood why Peter Kreeft could call himself orthodox, conservative, and charismatic. It turns out that is what I am myself.

Now we just need to find a new word that doesn't carry all those negative connotations ... because I know what I thought about charismatic Christians. "Spirit filled?" Kinda crazy but not as bad. "Full of grace?" Hmmmm, no one is going to understand that at all and ... still kinda wacky. Well, I'll keep working on that part. All I know is CRHP made me into a charismatic Catholic and I couldn't be happier. If this is the future of the Catholic Church I can't wait to see the day when all Catholics are charismatic Catholics.

UPDATE: I think the best alternative to the term charismatic is one that a CRHP sister suggested. How about a whole heartedly practicing Catholic?

UPDATED UPDATE: I have been pleased to get response from CRHPers in other parishes. And, I think we have a winner from a person who is familiar with CRHP and the Holy Spirit, "I think it's a Catholic who has finally stopped practicing and started really living it!" I like that ... fully living the faith!

This person went on to add: "I describe the process this way: think of a jar filled with water. Now, put a lid on that jar and put it under a flowing faucet. What happens to the flowing water? It does not enter the jar at all but bounces off. Unscrew the lid, however, and the constantly flowing water flows into the jar and the water in the jar overflows. The jar is constantly filled to thee brim and overflowing with fresh water.

We are the jar...the water is the Holy Spirit. The lid is how we close ourselves off to the workings of the Spirit. CRHP, the charismatic renewal, or any other kind of real and profound experience of God causes us to allow God to unscrew the lid and let the Spirit flow. For some of us, God has to take one of those instruments used for unscrewing a lid that is on real" tight! For others, the lid comes off easily."

I Am Legend: Light Up the Darkness

It is difficult to know how to review these without spoiling them

In brief, I can say that there are some definite parallels between them and yet they have a completely different feel. Both are cautionary tales about man's meddling with things that he should not. Both leave Robert Neville as the sole survivor of an insidious disease that either kills the infected or completely changes any survivors into monsters which prey upon normal people. In the book the people look normal but actually are regular cross-hating, garlic-shunning, sunlight-hating vampires. In the movie, the people become animalistic monsters that the girls and I dubbed "zom-pires" as they seemed a strange mixture between fast moving zombies and vampires.

The book, written in 1954, is fairly typical of a genre of science fiction of the time. The details of Neville's life are told completely from his thoughts. Between the daily details of making stakes to kill vampires, teaching himself science to try to identify what has caused the disease, and his struggles with loneliness, there are flashbacks from his dreams which fill in what happened to his wife and daughter. Neville was a worker in a plant before the disaster, not a high level intellectual at all, and thus is more of an "every man" than one would expect. I actually found this quite interesting and was riveted right up until the last chapter, which surprised me by entirely changing the entire tenor of the book for me. I will not say more because the I don't want to give away plot points. As I say, they are often parallel to the movie, but made for different reasons with different results which provides quite an interesting contrast when considering both presentations of the story.

The movie is also of its time and turns the scenario into an action-thriller which nonetheless remains strongly life-affirming and redemptive. The movie functions well as a tale of the end-of-the-world (images of abandoned New York are still flashing into my head two days after seeing the movie), an action/horror movie (those zomb-pires are freaky strong and scary with lots of sharp teeth and ear piercing howls), and a story that illustrates what is good about man as exemplified in Robert Neville. Neville in this scenario is a high level scientist who did not cause the disease but is dedicated to finding a cure and carries on his experimentation daily in a thorough fashion. Flashbacks are provided in dreams which fill us in on his family and what left New York City in the disastrous state in which it is presented.

The elements that bring the movie most strongly to life are the detailed touches such as herds of deer in New York, "renting" DVDs each day, a scene with Shrek (of all the unlikely things), and Robert Neville's stubborn dedication to finding a cure for the disease. This seems nonsensical at one point as the disease clearly has won and one wonders why he bothers. However, this is brought into focus by his telling of his hero Bob Marley's reason for putting on a concert two days after being shot by a gunman.

The people that are trying to make the world worse never take a day off, why should I? Light up the darkness.

All things considered I much preferred the movie to the book. That is not to say that there are not plot holes or flaws in the movie that some such as Roger Ebert have complained about. There is still running water for example. However, these also are things that the original book didn't bother explaining. The author, for all his dedication to various details of survival, left completely unexplained such things as running water, electricity, getting gas for the car. Movie viewers are unlikely to mind either.

The point of the movie is to tell the story and it does so in a compelling fashion. Well done indeed and it is going on my list of the year's best movies.

Note: Although this movie is PG-13 it is definitely horrifying in many of the situations and not suitable for younger children. Hannah and Rose saw a family with a boy of about 8 or 9 sitting near them. Thankfully, after about half an hour they left. I think that is just about the time that Neville is setting off with his flashlight ... a sequence so very suspenseful that I spent much of the time breathing deeply and deliberately looking around the audience just to break the tension. With that said, the violence is quick and not prolonged so that there are not scenes of a disturbingly graphic nature. It was quite well done in implying those scenes or showing them quickly enough that one is carried on in the action.

Cross-posted at Catholic Media Review.

Did Deacon Greg Miss His Calling?

After months of waiting and wondering, last night I finally got to see the movie version of "Sweeney Todd." I'd seen the stage production years ago, with Angela Lansbury and George Hearn, and knew to expect something different with Johnny Depp wielding the razor. It is different. Very different. It's a brooding, disturbing, urgent, ominous, grisly, sweeping "Sweeney."

And it's also something I never expected: heartbreaking.

It's a story of revenge, and like all of these kinds of tales, the moral is the same: revenge begets revenge. (Or, as "Othello" puts it, "Sin will pluck on sin.") The grudges we nurse can destroy us -- even more so, when we believe that settling those grudges will, in fact, redeem us. When Sweeney throws back his head and sings, "I will have salvation," he's not talking about going to heaven, but to hell. And hell consumes, almost literally, the second half of the story, with bodies being burned and chimneys belching black smoke and corpses piling up like the last scene of "Hamlet."

Definitely Deacon Greg should have been a movie reviewer. Read the rest for his thoughtful and compelling commentary. I already was dying to see this and ... darn it ... this just makes it worse!

Cross-posted at Catholic Media Review

The crying children, the music, the way people are dressed ... distractions at Mass

As we participate in the Eucharist, not only do we participate in Christ's sacrifice on Calvary but we are called to share in that sacrifice. Just knowing this should change how we view everything that irks us at Mass. Are you:

• Suffering mental anguish -- like a crown of thorns is weighted upon your head?
• Weighed down by worldly concerns -- like the weight of the cross is on you?
• Feeling powerless -- like you are nailed to a cross?

If we take away a sacrificial attitude toward the Eucharist, we are likely to fail to see the connection between our lives and what we do at Mass. We are apt to sit in judgment, waiting to be entertained (whether we are conservative or liberal, what we want to see differs but the attitude is the same). When we fail to bring a sacrificial attitude to the Eucharist, our participation seems at times to be modeled more after Herod's banquet, where Simone's dance cost the Baptist his head, than after the Last Supper of Our Lord, where there was every indication that partaking in this banquet was likely to cost the disciples their own lives. (Indeed, ten of the twelve were martyred, Judas took his own life, and John survived being boiled alive in a cauldron of oil.) ...

Participation in the Eucharist requires that we die to ourselves and live in Christ. If we want to get the most out of the Eucharist, then sacrifice is the key. This is what has been lost on many of us and if we want to reclaim all the spiritual riches that are available to us we must relearn what it means not only to "offer it up" but indeed to offer ourselves up.

Now I want to be clear that what I am proposing in this book is not the "victim-ism" that was sometimes prevalent in the older spirituality of "offering it up." In every situation we are free to choose how we will respond to an event: we can blame someone else for what is happening, or we can feel powerless and do nothing. It is my contention that neither of these responses is Christ-like. The experience of "offering up" our lives to God needs to be a positive and co-redemptive act. Thankfully, with God's help we are all capable of freely choosing to respond in this fashion.

How to Get the Most Out of the Eucharist
by Michael Dubruiel

There are things that will drive anyone to distraction at Mass and new convert Will Duquette and his family are dealing with noisy children, specifically. Anyone who is annoyed at Mass would do well to go read his reflections found here, here, and here. He and his family are dealing with their distractions in a mood of charity and common sense that many of us would do well to emulate. They are providing an excellent example of a positive, co-redemptive way to offer up oneself during the Mass.

I, personally, tend to reflect upon the fact that the first Masses were held in households, especially during the times when the Church was under extreme persecution. You would have had children crying, animals wandering around, flies and fleas abounding, and many other distractions that we do not have to think about today. Keep your eye on the prize, I often remind myself. I am here to worship and meet Christ in the Eucharist and so are all these other people, whatever distractions they may offer. I dare not let myself think of the times I, unwittingly, have been a distraction to others. Because, of course, I'm perfect, right? Ha!

Seventh Day of Christmas: Optional Memorial of

The last day of the year is also the feast of St. Sylvester — bishop of Rome in 314. Constantine gave him the Lateran Palace, which became the cathedral church of Rome. Many legends exist about Sylvester. He supposedly cured Constantine from leprosy and later baptized him on his deathbed.

New Year's Eve, along with its innocent gaiety, is really a day for serious reflection. On the eve of the civil New Year the children may join their parents in a holy hour, in prayer and thanksgiving for the gifts and benefits which God has given them in the past year, and to pray for necessary graces in the forthcoming civil year.

Read more at Catholic Culture.

Be Careful What You Ask For

I believe in signs. I believe that prayers are often answered. I believe that God will indulge us from time to time because we are precious to Him and He delights in our delights. But I hope I've finally learned to stop asking for what is freely given in His own time.

formation has a good and thoughtful post about "baiting God" or, in other words, asking for a sign. I especially love being reminded that God delights in us and will give treats as an indulgence. That takes me back to "relationship" and it is too easy for me to forget that at times. Especially at this time of year, I think that increased awareness of God in our lives is so interesting to think over.

That post made me cast back my mind to a time when I didn't believe, asked for a sign, and wound up ponying up first ... only to be given a whopper of a sign.

I think back to a time when we didn't ask for a sign but got a miraculous one anyway.

I think of a time when I was being hounded by God (yes, hounded and haunted and hunted and pestered to distraction) in discernment of my role for the Christ Renews His Parish team. I mean to say the Holy Spirit used scripture, that "small, still voice," people's offhanded comments, and more to whap me upside the head. On one hand, once I figured out what was going on, I was pleased. On the other hand, I was considerably freaked out. Not easy to accomplish simultaneously, but I managed without any problem at all.

Those are just the big examples, not the small instances that pop up here and there, usually when I least expect it. I really tend not to ask for signs as I figure that if I am "listening" or aware enough then I'll hopefully see things unfolding (as with Rose's college choice ... at one point it was like standing in the middle of the runway looking at the airplane circling overhead and feeling that God was standing there signalling where to land ... truly amazing). Not that I don't need a good whap with that holy 2x4 every so often. I also have a dread of getting in the habit of treating God like a vending machine (insert one prayer, receive one sign) because that completely ignores the relationship and so much more about our lives of faith.

Well, Well, We've Got Two Extra Chapters of Daniel in the Bible

Peter Paul Rubens. Daniel in the Lions' Den.

"We" meaning Catholics. I knew there were books the Protestants didn't include such as Tobit (and what a shame that is ... it is fantastic and a favorite of mine). However, this morning, having forgotten to pick up my Magnificat for the daily Mass readings and having already set my timer (to be sure I put in some quantity as well as quality time with God) ... I just did a Bible flip and wound up at chapter 14 of Daniel. Really great and I found it quite absorbing. Specifically I was at verse 13 and I will paraphrase the story (read it here). The king shows Daniel a living dragon, says it is a god and tells him to worship it. Daniel disposes of the dragon quite elegantly, the mob protests his getting rid of a god (as well as another one from earlier in the chapter) and the king responds by tossing Daniel in a den of hungry lions. They leave him in there for 7 days and I was most impressed by the level of detail. For instance, God sends an angel to the prophet Habukkuk to bring Daniel something to eat. When Habukkuk tells the angel that he doesn't have any idea where either Babylon or the den are, the angel seizes him by the crown of his head and whisks him by his hair off to feed Daniel. I just loved that. Picking up my brand new Archaeological Study Bible (which has an adamant "yay Protestant Biblical books choice!" cheering section of the introduction) I was curious to see what they might have for entries on those pages. Surprise, surprise, surprise! The Book of Daniel didn't end at all as I expected with the story of Susannah in chapter 13 and Daniel exposing various false gods in chapter 14. The Protestant Bible only goes to chapter 12. And here is why.

The Hebrew and Aramaic sections of the Book of Daniel thus far dealt with, are the only ones found in the Hebrew Bible and recognized by Protestants as sacred and canonical. But besides those sections, the Vulgate, the Greek translations of Daniel (Septuagint and Theodotion) together with other ancient and modern versions, contain three important portions, which are deuterocanonical. These are:

• the Prayer of Azarias and the Song of the Three Children, usual}y inserted in the third chapter between the twenty-third and the twenty-fourth verses;
• the history of Susanna, found as ch. xiii, at the end of the book;
• the history of the destruction of Bel and the dragon, terminating the book as ch. xiv.

The first of these fragments (Dan., iii, 24-90) consists of a prayer in which Azarias, standing in the midst of the furnace, asks that God may deliver him and his companions, Ananias and Misael, and put their enemies to shame (verses 24-45); a brief notice of the fact that the Angel of the Lord saved the Three Children from all harm, whereas the flame consumed the Chaldeans above the furnace (46-50); and a doxology (52-56) leading on to the hymn familiarly known as the "Benedicite" (57-90). The second fragment (ch. xiii) tells the history of Susanna. ... The last deuterocanonical part of Daniel (ch. xiv) contains the narrative of the destruction of Bel and the dragon. ... The Greek is, indeed the oldest form under which these deutero-canonical parts of the Book of Daniel have come down to us; but this is no decisive proof that they were composed in that language. In fact, the greater probability is in favour of a Hebrew original no longer extant. It is plain that the view which regards these three fragments as not originally written in Greek makes it easier to suppose that they were from the beginning integrant parts of the book. Yet, it does not settle the question of their date and authorship. It is readily granted by conservative scholars (Vigouroux, Gilly, etc.) that the last two are probably from a different and later author than the rest of the book. On the other hand, it is maintained by nearly all Catholic writers, that the Prayer of Azarias and the Song of the Three Children cannot be dissociated from the preceding and the following context in Dan., iii, and that therefore they should be referred to the time of Daniel, if not to that Prophet himself. In reality, there are well nigh insuperable difficulties to such an early date for Dan., iii, 24-90, so that this fragment also, like the other two, should most likely be ascribed to some unknown Jewish author who lived long after the Exile. Lastly, although the deuterocanonical portions of Daniel seem to contain anachronisms, they should not be treated -- as was done by St Jerome -- as mere fables. More sober scholarship will readily admit that they embody oral or written traditions not altogether devoid of historical value. But, whatever may be thought concerning these literary or historical questions, there cannot be the least doubt that in decreeing the sacred and canonical character of these fragments the Council of Trent proclaimed the ancient and morally unanimous belief of the Church of God.

No matter which Bible you use, do go read chapters 13 and 14 of Daniel. I found them both to be ripping stories and (most important of all) to have some good food for thought. As a side note, I checked the Archaeological Study Bible out of the library for several weeks before adding it to my Christmas wish list. All the notes, articles, and commentary are about such things as historical/cultural notes, archaeological discoveries, artifacts, and more. If you go to their site they have sample pdfs to examine. I use it in conjunction with my The Catholic Study Bible or, in the case of my current reading of Romans, the Ignatius Catholic Study Bible.

Dean Koontz and His Catholic Faith

March Hare mentioned, upon reading this quote, that she didn't realize Dean Koontz was Catholic.

For those whom it may interest, here is an interesting interview with Dean Koontz where he talks about his faith with Tim Drake.

The Curt Jester Reviews "In This House of Brede"

This book is certainly no pious stereotype of perfect contemplative nuns, but instead a book that reads more like an autobiography than a novel. The characters in the story are so real that you forget you are reading a novel. From the abbess down to the novices each person described could easily find their counterpart in real life.

Read the whole review. Y'all know that I am a fan and it is nice to see that Jeff enjoyed the book also.

Something I rarely see mentioned about Godden's books but that one commenter pointed out is that Godden's books often have unsettling elements which can often be painful to think about. I think about the way that the youngest child is ignored practically to the point of abuse in Thursday's Children, the way that Lovejoy's mother has abandoned her in An Episode of Sparrows, Philipa's secret in In This House of Brede. I haven't read all of Godden's books but I think that the only one that I have read where I can't remember something of the sort included is The Kitchen Madonna.

I think it is because Godden doesn't sugar-coat life. She shows the worst side of human behavior and we find it painful because we know just how it would feel to be treated like that. However, she also shows the best side and it is a redemptive side that I find extremely rewarding. For me, this mirrors life and I think that Godden does it with a subtle yet sure touch. Perhaps most amazing thing is that Godden manages to show those bad qualities in extremely good, non-offensive prose. That is an art that is lost on many modern writers.

When Atheism Backfires

Michael Coren (found via Brandywine Books) writes about the "banality of atheism" pushing him to investigate faith to see if there was something more worthwhile to be found. Lo and behold, he has been a Christian now for 20 years. With the advent of the so-called new crop of atheists, he hasn't found their arguments much different than the old ones.

Then, just recently, the tarnished old arguments from the flimsy and trendy were re-published in new editions by the likes of Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins and we were all supposed to run away and hide. So I read them. Then began to laugh. It's the emperor and his new clothes. Naked, quite naked.

Nothing new here. Nothing clever or challenging, either.

Busting with errors, hysterical, clumsy, nasty and obviously incredibly frightened. Suddenly, I realize what's going on. It's that God again, helping to strengthen my faith. "The best they can do," He's saying, "is blast you with the same old nonsense they threw at you when you first thought of coming my way."

We have all heard the objections to Christianity that are continually trotted out by those who fancy themselves the first to pose such questions. Heck, I used to believe a couple of them myself. However, I wish I'd have had someone on hand who could have disposed of those objections with the simple logic shown by Coren. I especially appreciated his responses to the questions of "If God were good, He would make Himself obvious" and "Why do bad things happen to good people?" Go see what he says.

All this made me realize that I tend to store up what I consider the deal-breakers for doubters' objections to faith. Coren now has provided what will become my first salvo to those particular questions I mentioned above.

As to the question of Christianity being an invention and necessity for the weak to be able to get by in life, my favorite is still that comment by former atheist John C. Wright:

To those of you who think religion is a self-delusion based on wish-fulfillment, all I can remark is that this religion does not fulfill my wishes. My wishes, if we are being honest, would run to polygamy, self-righteousness, vengeance and violence: a Viking religion would suit me better, or maybe something along Aztec lines. The Hall of Valhalla, where you feast all night and battle all day, or the paradise of the Mohammedans, where you have seventy-two dark-eyed virgins to abuse, fulfills more wishes of base creatures like me than any place where they neither marry nor are given in marriage. This turn-the-other cheek jazz might be based any number of psychological appeals or spiritual insights, but one thing it is not based on is wish-fulfillment.

An absurd and difficult religion! If it were not true, no one would bother with it.

As to the supposedly scandalous accusations about the crimes committed in the name of Christianity, we all wish those were not true but it is undeniable that the Church is made up of people, which is to say ... sinners. Which always turns my thoughts to this quote which says it all.

The church is always God hung between two thieves. Thus, no one should be surprised or shocked at how badly the church has betrayed the gospel and how much it continues to do so today. It has never done very well. Conversely, however, nobody should deny the good the church has done either. It has carried grace, produced saints, morally challenged the planet, and made, however imperfectly, a house for God to dwell in on this earth.

To be connected with the church is to be associated with scoundrels, warmongers, fakes, child-molesters, murderers, adulterers and hypocrites of every description. It also, at the same time, identifies you with saints and the finest persons of heroic soul within every time, country, race and gender. To be a member of the church is to carry the mantle of both the worst sin and the finest heroism of the soul ... because the church always looks exactly as it looked at the original crucifixion, God hung among thieves.

Ronald Rolheiser

Leave It to God to Use You

The basic thing is that I never ask myself what the result of any action will be--that is God's concern. The only question I keep asking myself in life is: what should I do at this particular moment? What should I say? All you can do is to be at every single moment as true as you can be with all the power in your being--and then leave it to God to use you, even despite yourself.

Beginning to Pray by Anthony Bloom

I had to revised my conversion story slightly. A specific part that I never spelled out is that Hannah came home and started pushing us to go to weekly Mass because her religion teacher in kindergarten, Mrs. McDaniel (a woman whose vocation clearly is to teach kindergarten, she is amazing), asked the children who went every week. She then told those who didn't raise their hands that they needed to go home and tell their parents they should be going to Mass every week. As we all know, Hannah went right home, obeyed orders, and ... well, the rest is history.

A couple of weeks ago I glimpsed Mrs. McDaniel at Mass as I sometimes do and realized that I never had thanked her. For her that was a routine part of teaching religion, but considering people's touchy feelings these days (yes, even at a Catholic school), I know that she was taking a risk in telling those little children to go home and push their parents to go to Mass. Of course, I am so very grateful that she did as it changed my life completely as well as that of our family.

I began thinking that I needed to tell her what a difference she had made, but she was always too quick in slipping out the door. Yesterday, at the 11:00 Christmas Mass, she came in. I thought, "Ok, today I am going to be so quick, I am going to catch and tell her." Then she sat down in the pew in front of me. In the place directly in front of me.

I wasn't going to lose a chance like that. I tapped her on the shoulder, meaning to ask her to stay after Mass so I could talk to her. Instead, the whole story poured out (abbreviated and very quickly) into her startled ears. She put her hands to her face, tears came to her eyes, she hugged me. As so often happens, of course, she had no idea that God used her to plant that very specific seed in the one determined person that Tom and I would not disappoint ... our little Hannah.

At the end of Mass, she turned to me again and told me that she had needed so very much to hear that message of making a difference, that I had no idea of what it meant. True enough, I didn't. However, I had that thought suddenly planted about staying alert to thank her and then she sat right in front of me with friends, where I never see her sit. This Christmas gift was coming from a bigger place than me. God never stops moving, never stops working, especially at Christmas Mass.

If you enjoy this blog, then Mrs. McDaniel has touched you too. Aren't we all happy she did her job so well, that she cared enough to send those little children home with that message for their parents? There is no telling how many people's lives she has touched through her devoted teaching of kindergarteners through the years. I am simply the one who was there to speak the words at that moment. I am positive there are many, many, many others who owe Mrs. McDaniel a large debt of thanks also.

On all their behalves let me say again, "Thank you, Mrs. McDaniel!"

I'm Out of Here ...

... until after Christmas! My prayer is that everyone has a very Merry and blessed Christmas everyone and I'll be back on Boxing Day (a.k.a. Dec. 26)!

The Holiday Spirit is Everywhere

From Lifehacker, via Tom.

Who Should Direct the Hobbit?

Since Peter Jackson is declining. Jeffrey Overstreet suggests Brad Bird and I second that suggestion. Read the reasons why at his place ...

"Rescuing your people ... I can't really say it is our prime objective."

Are we ready for Lost? I know I am.

What Does "the Incarnation" Really Mean?

Our church bulletin insert from last Sunday.

Considering the Truth of the Incarnation

“No worldly mind would ever have suspected that He Who could make the sun warm the earth would one day have need of an ox and an ass to warm Him with their breath; that He Who, in the language of Scriptures, could stop the turning about of Arcturus would have His birthplace dictated by an imperial census; that He, Who clothed the fields with grass, would Himself be naked; that He, from Whose hands came planets and worlds, would one day have tiny arms that were not long enough to touch the huge heads of the cattle; that the feet which trod the everlasting hills would one day be too weak to walk; that the Eternal Word would be dumb; that Omnipotence would be wrapped in swaddling clothes; that Salvation would lie in a manger; that the bird which built the nest would be hatched therein—no one would have ever suspected that God coming to this earth would ever be so helpless. And that is precisely why so many miss Him. Divinity is always where one least expects to find it. ...

No man can love anything unless he can get his arms around it, and the cosmos is too big and too bulky. But once God became a Babe and was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger, men could say, “This is Emmanuel, this is God with us.” By His reaching down to frail human nature and lifting it up to the incomparable prerogative of union with Himself, human nature became dignified. So real was this union that all of His acts and words, all of His agonies and tears, all of His thoughts and reasonings, resolves and emotions, while being properly human, were at the same time the acts and words, agonies and tears, thought and reasonings, resolves and emotions of the Eternal Son of God.”

Archbishop Fulton Sheen, Life of Christ

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In our meditations upon the Incarnation we encounter many familiar images. This is natural and to be expected. It is automatic to think sentimentally and comfortably about the little babe, the adoring parents, singing angels, startled shepherds, and Magi with gifts, while traditional carols echo in our ears.

However, as Fulton Sheen reminds us, the reality of the Incarnation is not comfortable at all. It is God breaking into human time and nature and history to effect a miracle so outrageous that no one would have thought it up in their wildest dreams. The Second Person of the Trinity willingly takes on our limited human nature, purely for love of us. Shocking? Yes. Amazing? Yes. But comfortable? No.

This also is a good reminder that it is very easy to read into Scripture what we would like to see. Pulling the truth out of Scripture, also called exegesis, is considerably more difficult. That truth may prove quite a bit more surprising than we expect. God does have a habit of showing us truth in surprising ways.

To think of the Christ child at Christmas is natural. Undeniably those are the images of the season. However, the meaning of this baby for us and for all mankind is far from a sentimental picture. Jesus comes to us as a baby so we will learn something of his real nature and of the beginning of the path that he will tread and that we must follow.

Pope Benedict XVI helps us to consider further the layers of meaning in the Incarnation. In a Christmas homily* he said:

“God’s sign is the baby in need of help and in poverty. … God’s sign is simplicity. … God’s sign is that he makes himself small for us. This is how he reigns. He does not come with power and outward splendour. He comes as a baby – defenceless and in need of our help. … He asks for our love: so he makes himself a child. He wants nothing other from us than our love, through which we spontaneously learn to enter into his feelings, his thoughts and his will – we learn to live with him and to practise with him that humility of renunciation that belongs to the very essence of love. ...”

In our meditations upon the Incarnation we encounter many familiar images. This is natural and to be expected. However, let us not settle for comfort. Let us dig deeper and discover the true nature of the Lord, he who is Love incarnate, who came to show that love for you and for me.

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* Read online Pope Benedict XVI’s entire homily from Midnight Mass, Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord.

Story of my life ...

Click on the image to enlarge.
See more of these cartoons here.

Now That is Giving It Up For Your Art ... Matt Frewer I Salute You!

Everyone thought that Max was computer generated, but computers couldn’t do that in 1986. In reality our actor, Matt Frewer, had to spend hours every day having makeup and prosthetics applied to him, including plastic hair and shiny chest piece.

He was then shot on greenscreen, the video was squashed in the Ampex ADO effects box, and the moving graphics were composited into the background in the switcher.

Some video editing (linear, of course) introduced his unique “scratch” effect, complemented with audio effects. Finally, the whole thing was output to a monitor and reshot on set with live actors. Not a computer to be found.

Creative Cow reminds me of how much Tom and I loved Max Headroom, which still inexplicably is available only on old VHS ... the show that still holds up after all these years.

Download the current issue of Creative Cow in pdf form at their website.

The Helpful Catholic's Guide to Discerning Other People's Vocations For Them

One of Disputations' best charts ever. Its funny because its true. (I'll be snickering for a while over this one ...)

You Can Know God's Will. But Will You Want to Do It?

Over and over again this past week, I've found that the challenge is not usually knowing what God's will is...it's following it. There have been some occasions where I really don't know what I am supposed to do and can only go forward in meekness and blind trust. But, more often, when I pray about my anxiety, God's path for the resolution of the situation is actually pretty clear: it involves stuff like smoothing over tense interpersonal situations with great humility and love; resolving financial stress by admitting things I don't want to admit and committing to sacrifices I don't want to make; making overwhelming situations manageable by taking a hard look at my priorities (like, say, stopping half way though a blog post I really wanted to finish to open mail instead) and asking for help when I need it. And so on and so on. Not surprisingly, it keeps coming down to stuff like sacrifice, humility, loving openly and selflessly, patience, being willing to be vulnerable, etc. In other words: really hard stuff that I don't want to do.

Jen at Et Tu?

I feel ya, sistah!

I realized earlier this year that I almost always know what I should do but spend quite a lot of mental effort trying to justify my way out of doing it. Often this is over a real no-brainer and something fairly simple like attending a Holy Day of Obligation Mass (If only they picked more convenient mass times. What would those convenient times be? Well, to be honest ... how about never?)

I don't have to get in a prayerful mindset the way that Jen describes (of course, I'm battling out and out disobedience here, not dealing with anxiety as she is and that's a whole different problem). I already know. I'm like the three-year-old who is coming up with excuse after excuse, trying them out all the while knowing that none of them are good enough.

When I finally give up and give in? Oh, the relief of not struggling any more!

Now that I have realized this pattern, I try to recognize it earlier and just give in ASAP. No matter what I will have to do the "right thing" that I am trying to avoid ... but now without all the added stress of arguing with Papa about it.

I will double back and add that the times I haven't known what to do and prayed about what to do in a tough situation, I almost always get that "little thought" floating from the back of my mind that shows the way. Sometimes when I'm extra dense I get a stern, smackdown. Yes, it's happened. (Which was one of the things that convinced me I wasn't just "making up" what I wanted to hear. I'm always much gentler with myself than God sometimes is.) Nothing makes you jump up and follow marching orders like getting yelled at.

Go read all of Jen's post. There's much more and, as always, it's all good stuff.

I Am Legend. Go See It.

That's Scott Nehring's advice and I, for one, think its always a good idea to follow Scott's advice. He says, intriguingly:

I am Legend is very much worth seeing. Not only do you get a very effective zombie flick (if its fair to call it that) the piece is very Christian in its approach and overall theme. It is very rare to see God place such a central role in a major release film.

They had me at "zombie." Well, to be honest, they really had me at Will Smith. Ahem. Anyway, Nehring's recommendation has my interest to a fever pitch.

Now if I'd only not realized that it is ONE WEEK AND ONE DAY away from Christmas. Excuse me while I breathe into a paper bag to calm my hyperventilating ... at least the thought of Will Smith and zombies will help keep me calm while I whirl around finishing things up.

A Few Reactions to Frankenstein. Ok, Really Just One Reaction.

To the book, not any of the movies.

I'm listening along with CraftLit , about one episode behind. As Heather at points out, Young Frankenstein really is not a bad representation of the book at all, especially Gene Wilder's take on Frankenstein's character.

... what a SHALLOW IDIOT Frankenstein is!

First, when he said he was going to make his creation 8 feet tall, I was waiting for a reason to do this. Oh silly me, no reason. Just seemed like a good idea at the time I suppose.

THEN, when he is horrified at his creation because he's ugly. And what does he do? Goes off to take a nap!

Then Frankenstein comes back with a friend and is only HAPPY to find the monster gone? No thoughts about where he's gone, what he might be doing ... just worry that his friend might have seen him.

I'd like to give that guy a good slap!

Of course, this resonates all the more because I read this morning that scientists think they are on the verge of creating original DNA strands and inserting them in cells to see what happens. I think they all need to read Frankenstein first ...

"But, Jeff, ... what are you doing for the kingdom?"

More Than a Dream: How One School's Vision Is Changing the World by G.R. Kearney

Jim Gartland walked toward a group of four gangbangers who stood in the shadows next to a brick building, just beyond the yellow light cast by a a nearby street lamp. He was scared. Their gang affiliation was clear in the way they wore their clothes, their hair, their shoes. They were out on patrol. It was a hot night in September, and Gartland--dressed in a Roman collar, comfortable chinos, and a pair of Teva sandals--was walking the neighborhood and talking to people. He slowly approached the group, his hands in his pockets, and tried to look self-assured. He knew they were watching him His white face shone in a sea of Latinos.

This was one of Gartland's first face-to-face-interviews, and it's worth nothing that as he approached the young gang members, no one had his back. In a literal sense, he walked the streets alone, following the clearest orders he received form his superiors, to "go out and meet people and tell us what, if anything, we should do." In a figurative sense, Gartland was conducting the feasibility study with very little support from his fellow Jesuits. Even as he walked the streets, many of them were voicing their opposition to the idea of a new ministry, particularly a school. ...

As Gartland drew near the gangbangers standing in the shadows, they turned slowly to face him. He was surprised by how young they seemed, with thin mustaches and beards, and tattoos emblazoned on their shoulders and arms. Still, they succeeded at appearing menacing. Gartland could barely manage to say, "Hi , guys."

If you had told me at the beginning of the weekend that I'd be reading a book about a school start-up and absolutely riveted, I'd have scoffed.

As happens so often, I'd have been wrong.

This is a book of all the little stories that add up to a big picture, in this case the opening of a school based on a completely original learning approach in the poor Hispanic ghetto laden with crime, gangs, and no dreams of a future. We see intertwined the lives of students, the lives of those who will run the school, and the unfolding of the story in a compelling documentary style. I am loathe to share many of the details of the story because part of what has left me so fascinated is watching each hurdle arise and actively wondering how it is going to be overcome. This is not only an amazing story, it is storytelling in a immersive style as we travel with each person on the way. We not only see the personalities, they share with us their personal growth along the way.

The rope course was a hit with the students and an epiphany for Kendall. "At the end of the day, the students were all climbing this wall and I remember one of the girls looking up and saying, 'I'm not going.' I said, 'I won't force you. But you should try. I'll go up there with you.' I thought it'd be a piece of cake.

"We climbed the wall, and when I got up there, I started looking down. I kept telling myself I was safe--I was strapped into a safety harness and wearing a helmet--but every part of my body was telling me I wasn't. My legs were shaking and my heart was pounding. It was really scary. I only realized then how much I'd been asking the students to do. All year I'd been telling them they had noting to be scared about at work. Standing up on the ropes course, I realized how I hadn't been aware of their fear. When we came down, the girl looked up at the wall and said, 'You know, Mr. Kendall, I never thought I could do that, but I did.' She was just gazing up at the wall. And that's when I realized that this was the best thing we'd done all year. I wanted every one of our students to be able to say, 'I never thought I could, but I did.'"

It is also an education into those who would label the Jesuit order as being of a "type." It is a reminder that there are many good people who want to make a difference but simply don't know how until they are offered the opportunity. It is a wake up call that many of those mired in gangs and crime don't aspire to that life, they simply have no clue of how to live a "normal" life that seems as far from their experience as a moon landing.

... During admissions interviews, Kendall, Judy Murphy, and Rosy Santiago learned that some of the incoming students had literally never left their neighborhoods. Some had never been downtown, never been in an elevator or on an escalator ...

In spite of all this ... the lack of funds, the lack of interest on the part of most potential students, the lack of any sensible model to follow, the fear and opposition of those who saw it threatening established schools ... a diverse group of people all found themselves immersed in the dream to serve those who needed it most and who could themselves help to make a difference in the neighborhood of Pilsen. The story is compelling and you will want to read it.

Kudos to Loyola Press for continuing to publish books (They Come Back Singing, A Jesuit Off-Broadway) that take us into other, sometimes uncomfortable, parts of society and our world to remind us that our cozy little corners are not the only thing there is and that God is at work in all of them.

"Because of love!"

This was my favorite chapter from They Come Back Singing (reviewed here). I read it three times because the dynamics of the people's responses and the way the teaching built gripped me by the throat. I loved it. This is long but worth it.

Much thanks to Loyola Press for allowing me to excerpt this chapter. I typed this in myself so if you see typos let me know.

Kogwon Narju

Every day here takes me into new experiences, deeper experiences, yet linking me with the past. I am an old tree growing steadily but always with a new growth of leaves and blossoms. Grace and love move in my heart, and each place and event becomes a new sanctuary of the mystery of my faith.

Yesterday I traveled to the west side of the Nile with Ratib to do a one-day seminar in the settlement village of Cochi. When we arrived, after two hours of driving in the rain and ferry delays, I talked strategy and plans for the seminar with my lead catechists, Kenyi and Osura, as people were coming in to the chapel. Nearly a hundred people there.

It is Lent, so I focused on the theology of the season and how it fits into the church year. That led into a discussion of the life of Christ and why God even bothered to send his Son. What I asked, is the point of Jesus' suffering and dying for us? In these seminars, I use Scripture and lots of acting to engage the group as much as I can in a dialogue about our topic. I know that they have the truth within them. My job is to tease it out and help them claim it.

We were at it for more than three hours.

At the heart of the teaching was the fact that we sin and are forgiven and loved by the one who creates us, the one who sent his only Son as the promise of his love and forgiveness. We are loved sinners.

I asked everyone: "Well, what is sin?"

They gave a variety of answers: "murder," "adultery," "gossip," stealing," selfishness," "hate," "not being faithful to God."

"Are we all sinners?"

The congregation, in a convinced chorus: "Yes, all are sinners."

I pointed to a man in the front row. "Even this old man here?"

"Yes, all are sinners."

"Even this beautiful young mother and her child?"

"Yes, all."

"But surely not Kenyi, your good and holy catechist?"

Lots of nodding and laughs. "yes, all." (Kenyi cracked up as I shook my head at him in mock disapproval."

"But surely not me, the priest? A sinner?"

Now there were lots of snorts, and a chorus of "You, too!" I acted hurt. More laughing from the congregation.

Then I asked, "Did Jesus tell us any stories about how God forgives our sins and loves us in spite of our sin?

There was hesitation, and then a hand went up: "yes, the prodigal son."

"Could you tell us that story?"

The woman stood up and utterly nailed the parable; she was animated, capturing all the attendant emotions and convictions of the story. I asked her to come forward to play the role of the parent of the child who spends his inheritance and then returns to fall on his parent's mercy. She was a frail-looking woman, maybe forty-five, wearing a colorful green and black headpiece. Another person was chosen to be the wayward child, and they acted out the moment of the boy's return after blowing all his inheritance in Kampala. The son fell on his knees, begging forgiveness from his mother. She picked him up and embraced him, showing unconditional acceptance of her son.

While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly. (Luke 15:20)

To the woman, I said: "Why did you forgive your boy?"

She responded, "Well, he is my son. I must welcome him and forgive him."

"But why must you forgive your son?"

From the back of the chapel, an old woman exclaimed, "Kogwon narju!" It is the Bari for "Because of love!" -- the ultimate explanation of the mother's act and of the Incarnation. The mother in the drama nodded her head in agreement. So did I.

To the boy, I asked: "Why did your mother forgive you?'

"Because I am her son."

"But you are a selfish and greedy son."

"But she loves me."

I kneaded this truth; Kenyi was pacing me now, figurative fingers on the pulse of my heart, seamlessly tying toegther in Bari my theology and rhetoric.

I instructed the actors to sit down' everyone present applauded. Then I asked a man and a woman in the chapel, Josephina and Mawa, both parents, to come up.

I asked Josephina: "Would you buy exercise books for your daughter who needs them for school?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I want her to have the right materials so she can finish school."

"Why?"

"Kogwon narju--because I love her."

I turned to Marwa and asked the same question.

"Yes," he said, for the same reason.

I said to everyone in the chapel: "Now remember, we are trying to understand how much God loves us."

Then I said to Mawa: "You daughter has to go to Kampala for a medical procedure. Will you raise the money so she can go, and so you can go with her?" Such a trip costs forty dollars in this land where one dollar is a fortune.

"Yes, if I can, I will do everything in my power."

"Why?"

"Because I love her."

When I asked Josephina the same question, she didn't miss a beat: "I will cut firewood and sell grain and borrow from friends so that she can go."

"Why?"

Before she could answer, I turned to the congregation, listening intently, and asked them for the answer.

In a single voice they responded: "Kogwon narju."

I turned to Josephina again: "And if the doctor says your child's kidneys are failing, but she can be saved by a transplant of one of your kidneys--a serious operation in which she will probably live and you might die--would you do it? Would you give one of your kidneys?" (Everyone in the chapel was gripped now, leaning forward, trying to answer the question for themselves.)

"Yes," Josephina answered firmly. "I have lived my life"--said this woman in her early thirties--"and my daughter deserves to live." Smiles, nods, and sighs from the people.

"Why would you do this?"

"I love her. Kogwon narju."

Now I asked Mawa what he would do.

He hesitated, then said, "I have two other girls; if I die, who would provide fo rthem? Perhaps it is best that my daughter die." In a flash I was thinking of all the families I have known in three different refugee settlements who have lost at least one child, some five or six or seven.

"And if the doctor says you will not die if you donate one of your kidneys?"

"Then I will gladly give one of my kidneys."

"Why?"

"Kogwon narju."

I asked them to sit down. The chapel was buzzing. It was a good drama, but it was not over.

The next question I posed to all. "Suppose a doctor comes to you and is trying to find a volunteer for a kidney transplant for a sick person in the village. You look like a possibility as a donor. The person will die without a transplant, and in giving your kideny you may die. Would you do it?

Someone in the back asked: "Who is it?"

I answered slowly: "It is your worst enemy."

Silence.

Then lots of head shaking, nervous laughter, bewildered looks; an old man in the back walked out, waving his arms as if to say, "This is crazy talk." Kenyi laughed as he translated the gentleman; I think he softened it for me. But the old man returned, interested to know what people would say. A mother, nursing her baby directly in front of me, couldn't stop laughing. There were lots of puzzled looks as the people sunk their teeth into the question.

The hands started to go up.

"No way."

"Never for my enemy."

"I would give my kidney. Jesus died for his enemies; am I his follower or not?"

"Humanly, this is impossible. Perhaps with the grace of God, but who has that grace?"

"How is it possible to love this person if in our death our dependents will be without us?"

The chapel was abuzz; everyone was talking--to themselves, to me, to their neighbor, to God--a hundred people engaging their faith, engaging the spirit of God's heart. I reminded them of our question: How great is God's love?

After much discussion, we concluded the seminar. Kenyi and Osura took everyone through a recap of the day's teaching in Bari, with no English to obstruct things. Then they asked the people for an evaluation of the day. They were unanimous: this has been good teaching; we must do it again.

As we left, happiness moved across my heart like the Nile's morning breeze over my face, It was stiflingly hot, I was tired and hungry, the trip ahead would be long and bumpy, I was surrounded by so much poverty--yet I was filled with consolation. It can't be just joy at a job well done. Is it not the joy of the Spirit in me, the joy of God in me?

Ratib smiled reflectively as he downshifted over the last difficult terrain to the main road. He was happy that the day had gone well and that the people were appreciative. Ratib, a Muslim, is my biggest fan.

"You know, Mom, we're just thinking about your immortal soul."

Hannah's words when she and Rose recovered from a fit of hearty laughter after hearing of the one-too-many compliments I received this week.

Ah, yes, sweet humility. Always delivered so well by those you love most. I can always count on the girls to keep my feet firmly on the ground.

Although, those very words left me feeling well satisfied. When your 19-year-old is reminding you to think of your immortal soul you get a feeling that you've done ok in her catechesis.

Dear Baby...

The baby-keeper-cause film of the year has been Bella, an earnest indie by University of Texas alum Alejandro Monteverde about a pregnant waitress (yes, another one) befriended by a soccer star. Bella has been endorsed by everyone from Texas Gov. Rick Perry, who wrote a "review" of the film, to Laura Bush. Here's guessing the same people won't be singing the praises of Juno. They certainly didn't give it up for Knocked Up. When I called Knocked Up a family movie in my review I was bombarded by e-mailers appalled at its partying and swearing. This just in: People who party and swear have families too. Sometimes they're even happy.

Read the rest here: Chris Vognar, Dallas Morning News

Vognar makes a good point in his article from earlier this week in the Dallas Morning News. There are many movies this year involving unwanted pregnancies that variously and ultimately resolve the conflict with the baby being born. That is good news these days and perhaps a sign that the culture is every so slightly on the move for a change from "a woman's choice" being the vanguard phrase. A very good article and one that I recommend. I think registration is required but its free.

God, Are You Really Going to Pull This Off?

They Come Back Singing: Finding God With the Refugees
by Gary Smith, SJ
An African Journal

How can something be sad and glad at the same time? ... "All unhappiness," says Mrs. Quin, "as you live with it, becomes shot through with happiness; it cannot help it; and all happiness, I suppose, is shot through with unhappiness." ...

Rumer Godden,China Court

Although the above quote is from a different book entirely, it is the one that kept coming to me when I struggled with summarizing this book. In its simplest form it is a compilation of letters, journal entries, and scene-capturing essays by a Jesuit priest, Father Gary Smith, of his six years spent in Uganda ministering to the Sudanese refugees. As he is immersed in ministering to this pilgrim people who have suffered what seem unsurvivable hardships and sorrows, he also is lifted up by their complete trust in God's loving kindness. In a country where the people are displaced, every family has lost a minimum of two children, where the lack of three dollars can mean the difference between medicine and death, one does not expect to find perpetual joy in God's presence and plan for them. Yet it is always there. This also is a continual witness to Smith's own experience of God's loving kindness which he sees expressed through the people and through his own sufferings in this place of privation. Perhaps it is best expressed by Bishop Drandua one day in conversation.

... "I have been nourished by my position," he told me, "just as surely as the faithful are nourished by me. I believe that the Spirit is constantly renewing the church; it is a river which cannot be dammed. So the Spirit renews the bishops." He paused and added, "If they are open." His reflection was as powerful in its simplicity as it was in its theology. Drandua's conviction that the Spirit renews the church, now and forever, educated or uneducated, stands strong in its truth. Maybe that is the convert in me talking. God will not abandon the church and it will always grow, if not in numbers, then in the quality of love found in its members and in its capacity to be renewed and transformed by the Holy Spirit.

Just as Smith was, we are immersed in the people of Africa. I was personally touched by the fact that these people are from the Sudan. As I have mentioned before, a nearby parish has a ministry helping Sudanese refugees, and the local Central Market has a large number of them as workers. I especially feel connected because we have a lot of Sudanese refugees in our neighborhood working at the local grocery store. It thrills me to see them work their way up from grocery cart fetchers and bag boys to checkers. They invariably are the most considerate and careful workers (and this is in a store that is chock FULL of very good workers, believe it or not). I always go to one of them if I can and have struck up a friendship (superficial I admit) with several of them. They will wave me into their line or chide me for not being around lately. So as I read the book I could easily picture picture the people being like these fellows that I already know slightly. However, you do not need any personal connection to feel involved with the people in this book. Smith shows us their hearts and his as well.

This is a good book for more than one reason. As with the best books of this sort this is both uplifting and thought provoking. Just this week in Scripture study, our priest reminded us that we are incredibly privileged compared to most of the world. We talked of the parable of the rich young man and thought of all the "things" we have and all the "things" we want. Inevitably I thought of this book as I was about halfway through at that point. I must hasten to add, Catholic theology points out that there is nothing wrong with "things" as long as we view them rightly in the big picture and are unattached. However, here we are shown a people who often have no "things," whose only earthly attachment possible is to the people around them who often taken by sickness and death, and who still praise God's goodness. The contrast with our lives is striking. We see much sadness but as Mrs. Quin says above, it always is shot through with happiness. It changes Smith's view of the world around him, raises him to God often, and if we read it with an open heart, will do the same for us.

This book will be out in February and I submit that it would make a superb Lenten reading devotional. We then can ponder wealth, attachments, love, faith, and service to those around us. I have a favorite chapter that I have received permission to excerpt which you can read here.

Loyola Press has another chapter available to read here.

Highly recommended.

Cross posted at Catholic Media Review.

Who should be the Grande Conservative Blogress Diva 2008?

We all know it is The Anchoress, right? She really, really wants to win so if you love The Anchoress like I love The Anchoress, go vote!

Faith, Reason, and the War Against Jihadism: A Call to Action by George Weigel

I am waiting for my copy to arrive and this review by The Curt Jester is just whetting my appetite. I like Wiegel's logic and writing style as a rule so this should be interesting. Go check it out.

The Anchoress hasn't finished but gives the first four chapters a solid thumbs-up.

... frankly, I am hoping that every presidential candidate, every prospective cabinet member and every serious journalist will read it.

She has some specifics from the books to share.

Now I really can't wait to get it.