Fallen Sparrow

2012 Prayer Intentions - 7. For the Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI

2012-01-16T15:25:00.002-05:00

In the midst of my prayer life, it's easy for me to think small, to pray for direction in my life, or for consolation for friends in distress, or for the health and well-being of my family and friends, but I realized when meditating on my intentions for this year that I tend to overlook praying for the continued health, well-being, and perseverance in faith of our Holy Father the Pope.

I admit I'm not only frequently selfish, but also likely to slip into the error of thinking that our priests, religious, bishops, and Holy Father have a sort of "privileged access" to holiness that I do not have as a layman. I know this not to be the case, but it's easy for me to lose track of the truth on a daily basis.

In order to remedy that, my prayers on Saturdays of this year will be for the intentions of the Holy Father, for his continued health and bold proclamation of the Faith, and for his courageous witness to the Cross and Resurrection in a world grown cold and hostile to the message of Jesus' love and plan for man's salvation.

2012 Prayer Intentions - 6. Healing for Victims of Sexual Abuse

2012-01-16T15:00:00.000-05:00

The abuse scandal in the Church greatly damaged Her, and alienated many of the faithful, some of whom most certainly have left the Church. In addition to that, we are seeing broader cultural currents that seek to normalize pedophilia, as well as the revelations of child abuse at institutions such as Penn State's football program, all of which indicate a need for great healing for our society.

Having had my own experiences of abuse as a child, I testify to the scars that are left: an inability to experience joyfully physical intimacy, an inability to trust others, and an abiding fear and uncertainty regarding one's own body, among other things.

My friend Dawn has a book coming out this spring on the topic of healing from sexual abuse that I eagerly await. She recommended to me a devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus as a particularly fitting way to experience healing and love, and so it is for this that I set aside my Friday prayers in 2012.

2012 Prayer Intentions - 5. For the Angelic Warfare Confraternity

2012-01-16T14:55:00.000-05:00

In September of 2011, I was enrolled in the Angelic Warfare Confraternity, an apostolate of the Order of Preachers (Dominicans) for people in all states of life (laity, both married and unmarried; clergy; consecrated religious) who seek to grow in the virtue of chastity. Members wear a blessed cord or medal, and say a set of special prayers each day for the intentions of the entire confraternity, and they are placed in the patronage of the Blessed Virgin Mary and Saint Thomas Aquinas.

Since my enrollment, I have experienced a great growth in grace and particularly in the virtue of chastity that has brought me a new freedom and joy in my daily life. It is my hope that others come to be enrolled as well, and that they experience the same graces and joys that I have.

In addition to my daily confraternity prayers, I will include the members of the Angelic Warfare Confraternity in my special intentions each Thursday of 2012.

2012 Prayer Intentions - 4. End to Abortion

2012-01-16T14:52:00.000-05:00

"Manas'seh was twelve years old when he began to reign, and he reigned fifty-five years in Jerusalem....And he did what was evil in the sight of the LORD, according to the abominable practices of the nations whom the LORD drove out before the people of Israel....And he burned his son as an offering, and practiced soothsaying and augury, and dealt with mediums and with wizards. He did much evil in the sight of the LORD, provoking him to anger." - 2 Kgs 21:1a, 2, 6

This January 22 marks the 39th anniversary of the Supreme Court decision whereby life was determined no longer to be an "unalienable" right as described in the Declaration of Independence. In theological terms, one might compare the Roe v. Wade to the establishment of a blood cult, similar to that of the Gentile god Molech, to whom the wicked King Manas'seh and many others in Judah sacrificed their children in the valley of Hinnom (which Jesus calls "Gehenna" in the New Testament).

In the four decades since that decision, over 50 million Americans have been killed in the womb. It is my prayer for Wednesdays this year that we experience a reawakening of love for one another that leads us to end the barbaric and idolatrous practice of child sacrifice.

2012 Prayer Intentions - 3. Protection of Our Country

2012-01-08T22:35:00.002-05:00

This year, my Tuesday intention is to pray, through the intercession of our country's patroness, the Immaculate Virgin Mary, for peace and protection, particularly in what promises to be a contentious and bruising election later this fall.

"O Mary conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee."

2012 Prayer Intentions - 2. Prayers for Pink Cross

2012-01-07T15:45:00.000-05:00

My Monday prayer this year is for an organization run by a remarkable woman I've become acquainted with through Facebook named Shelley Lubben. She is a former pornographic actress who had a powerful conversion experience and now ministers to men and women in the "adult film" industry by sharing the Gospel with them through her Pink Cross Foundation.

Not only does pornography damage marriages and distort the sexuality of those who view it, it also destroys the lives of those who work in the industry, through disease, substance abuse, psychological trauma, and suicide. The performers are abused, exploited, sometimes even the victims of sex trafficking, all on top of the grave spiritual danger they and the producers and consumers place themselves in by engaging in a mortally sinful activity. It is truly a "social justice" issue, encompassing all manner of issues ranging from properly ordered human sexuality to economics to immigration.

In telling her own story, and in helping to expose the reality of the pornography industry, Mrs. Lubben has been subject to all manner of spiritual attacks. It is my hope that my prayers, united with those of the martyr St. Maria Goretti, will strengthen the Pink Cross in their mission to lead people out of the life of pornography and into faith in Christ.

2012 Prayer Intentions - 1. Find a Stable Home

2012-01-07T00:26:00.000-05:00

Continuing on a tradition from years past, I wanted once again to state my seven daily intentions for 2012.

My first is to pray for guidance in finding a stable home, perhaps in a monastic community. After a very challenging year and an extended period of discernment, D. and I concluded that we were not heading forward to marriage, and parted on mutual and amicable terms.

Much of this resulted from a growing sense that I am perhaps being called to live a monastic vocation. In light of this, I am making my first prayer intention of the year a petition to my confirmation saint Benedict for guidance in finding a monastic community to call home. This will be my Sunday intention throughout the year.

Happy 2012!

2011-12-31T23:33:00.002-05:00

New Year's Day in Vienna - "The Radetzky March"

2011 has passed, and all to the good. It was one of the most difficult years of my life, to be honest. Not bad per se, but very difficult, challenging, and purgative.

I'll write more about that later. For now, enjoy the music, and have a blessed New Year.

"And Sinatra became cool, and made his dwelling amongst us..."

2011-10-05T23:00:00.000-04:00

Frank Sinatra & Antonio Carlos Jobim

I came across this marvelous video a few weeks ago and had to share it. I love the relaxed and insouciant way in which Frank fires up a cigarette and smokes while singing.

The odd thing, for someone my age at least, is that this is the music of my adolescence and young adulthood. Although I came of age at a time when the Seattle grunge rock scene was going national with bands such as Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Soundgarden, I was amassing a collection of records (on LP!) by guys such as Miles Davis, Chet Baker, Gene Ammons, John Coltrane, and Frank Sinatra.

The benefit of growing up and going to public school in a city like Minneapolis was that I discovered, even then, that the best way one could be counter-cultural was to be Catholic, to be "conservative", to smoke (that most politically incorrect of habits), to drink cocktails (rather than smoke marijuana, the "natural" high), and to listen to Sinatra.

Sinatra, was "cool": a talented singer and movie actor, he embodied class, poise, and showmanship, the latter thing a seemingly-lost trait in an age of noise, distance, and flashy technology. (Listen sometime to the inviting but unsentimental banter on his "Sinatra At The Sands" live album - the intimacy of the recording holds up 45 years later. It's also amazing to realize that it was released only a couple of weeks before The Beatles' "Revolver".) The dapper suits and hats, the smoking, drinking, womanizing, the association with Las Vegas gambling (and mafiosi), made him deliciously retrograde to me, and probably offensive to my peers: not only did he smoke (egad!), drink, sleep around, call women "broads" and "dames", and hang out in Vegas, he also didn't burn a draft card or take political sides. He was pretty much everything that the hippies were not.

Ultimately, though, it was about the music. Frank, Ella Fitzgerald, Dinah Washington, Chet Baker, Julie London, and other great singers (including Tom Jobim), sustained me through the years when I thought it was enough to be cool.

Years later, when I realized that the only truly countercultural act was to be Catholic, I started to step away from "cool" and to seek more permanent things. The music I devour now is about 500 years older than you and me and Frank, and the Faith is older still by thousands of years. It is attractive not because it's "cool", but because it's beautiful beyond all human understanding, and because Love is irresistible and life-giving.

But sometimes, when the summer draws to a close and the sun goes down earlier each evening, and a faint chill is in the air, it's nice to sit back and take in a little cool.

"If we do not act now, the consequence will be grave."

2011-10-03T22:24:00.005-04:00

Ken Blackwell uses the "K" word to describe the Obama Administration's proposed Health and Human Services mandates that will adversely affect all manner of Church institutions.

As New York Archbishop Timothy Dolan noted in announcing the formation of the USCCB's Religious Liberty Ad Hoc Committee,

Never before have we faced this kind of challenge to our ability to engage in the public square as people of faith and as a service provider. If we do not act now, the consequence will be grave.

I pray for Archbishop Dolan and his brother bishops in their endeavors. He, and others such as Bishop Aquila of Fargo, Archbishop Nienstedt of St. Paul-Minneapolis, have been particularly vocal of late.

We Catholics, and other religious people of good will, are in for a very difficult time, and we will need prayers. Fortunately, we have a 2,000 year history to look at and remember, and we know that the gates of Hell shall not prevail against the Church. We can look back and see that the Catholic anvil has blunted mighty hammers throughout Her history: Caesars, barbarian invaders, heretics, Avignon antipopes, Tudor monarchs, Ottoman invaders, Jacobins, National Socialists, and Soviet reds; She will survive the tenure of a Chicago communist street agitator and his cohort.

We must not, despite the temptation, look to hyperbole, not when Christians in the Muslim world face execution for their faith.

Regardless of how things go, we must always remember: the things of this world are passing away; this is not our permanent home, but rather a place of exile; we, and everyone else, will be called before the Lord of Eternity in judgment to answer for our faith and our deeds, and that our salvation is not contingent upon our popularity, or the amount of money or possessions we acquire, or the prominence of our work, but rather upon our faith to Christ and His Church. These are the times for which we are made, for which we are called to be Christians; these are the times in which we must at last turn to God who is our strength and our hope, and in turn, to show that faith, strength, and hope to others before it is too late.

I need to remember this, as I am frequently afraid and uncertain, and therefore I try to fix things and make them right by how I want them to be, rather than by how God wills them to be.

Identity, Sentiment & Compassion

2011-09-26T23:45:00.001-04:00

I first recall noticing the phenomenon in the wake of the September 11 attacks. "We Are All Americans" was the sentiment that I recall hearing about then, in those days marked by the acrid smoke blowing uptown, when I'd sit in Fiddler's after work and see the firemen in their dress blue uniforms knocking back beers after yet another funeral at St. Patrick's Cathedral. It seemed to be a continuous sight for months. We New Yorkers were proud of our cops and firemen, the firemen particularly; they captured our imagination so that we, and the rest of the nation adopted them, wearing "FDNY" and "NYPD" caps and t-shirts, as if we could be them and join them in their mourning.

I remember seeing and hearing people who weren't in the city that day talking about how they felt like they were New Yorkers, somehow. "You're not, though!" I'd protest. "Hell, I wasn't even there. I mean, I was on my way in to work in Midtown; I didn't see the towers come down. I didn't lose any friends or family there." The attempt by people outside the situation to identify with it personally made no sense to me.

Since then, I've noticed this need to identify with victims as a general trend in the face of disaster. Perhaps it's because we feel powerless in the face of great adversity that we feel the only way we can express our concern for our fellows is to try to become them. Katrina hit and everyone was a New Orleanian, the Japanese tsunami hit and Facebook pages everywhere started displaying the Rising Sun.

Which brings me to the instant point, the maddening "I Am Troy Davis" t-shirts worn by the supporters of the man executed last week in Georgia for killing a Savannah policeman. Maddening, because it makes no sense: the t-shirt-wearing supporters are not on death row, either rightly or wrongly. They did not kill cops, or get wrongly convicted of killing cops. They are not facing imminent death at the hands of the justice system they decry; after the needle is withdrawn from Troy Davis's arm, they will go home and put their t-shirts in the laundry, and they might or might not think much of the incident afterward. In the end, there are perhaps good intentions in the desire to identify, but the gestures, the emotionalism, all ring hollow because of their noisiness and falsehood.

So what, then, is real? How are we to react to the sorrows (and joys) of others? It seems that we are in an age that has lost a capacity for empathy (the ability to perceive and to understand the emotional states of others) and for compassion (literally to suffer with, to experience the suffering of others and seek to alleviate that suffering); to be void of empathy is to be narcissistic. The faculties of empathy, and the resultant compassion, are imaginative in that it requires the emotional and intellectual exercise of trying to envision what it is to be in such a situation, and to imagine how one would want to be treated in that situation.

Despite our connections by social media, we become more and more fragmented, more lonely, more detached from our neighbors in favor of building disembodied acquaintances with people across the country or around the world. Perhaps those imaginative capacities are taxed by the vast quantities of stimulation and information that we are exposed to these days; there is simply so much noise, light, color, and speed, that we do not give ourselves time to pray and to meditate, to contemplate and imagine what it must be like to be in someone else's situation, be it an unemployed friend or neighbor, or an orphaned child in a war-torn country, or a man sitting in a death row prison cell awaiting execution.

What is required is not an unexamined emotional "I Am _____" slogan, but the virtuous exercise of what Russell Kirk (expanding on Edmund Burke's phrase) called the "moral imagination", which "aspires to the apprehending of right order in the soul and right order in the commonwealth." Another suggestion might be to read Dr. Edith Stein's doctoral dissertation on the Problem of Empathy.

My early experiences in Alcoholics Anonymous taught me how to begin exercising that faculty of imagination (a trait that we alcoholics often have in great abundance!) in a properly-ordered way: the talks, the stories that people in recovery tell are directed toward teaching one another how to experience empathy and how to identify one's own need for healing, repentance, and forgiveness. Alcoholics tell one another that they "identify" with one another, meaning not that their circumstances are the same, but that one can experience the sorrows, pains, embarrassments, and joys of life by listening to what others have to say.

This introduction to empathy was expanded upon my return to, and growth in, the Catholic faith. The scriptures, the sacraments, the prayers, the art and musical treasures of the Church are directed toward bringing one into communion with God in the person of Jesus Christ; in reading the stories of the Bible, in meditating upon the Mysteries of the Rosary, in the reading of the Passion account on Palm Sunday, in participating in the Way of the Cross, one encounters in a profound way the suffering of Jesus, of His Mother, the joy of His disciples at the Resurrection, and the zeal of their mission at Pentecost.

It is from these things, from empathetic and compassionate engagement with individual people, rather than from narcissistic slogans, public candlelight vigils, and protest rallies, that we will heal and bind up wounds and remedy injustices. It is in prayer and fasting and proclaiming the Gospel to the sad, lonely, and desperate that the world will be saved.

Certainty & Death

2011-09-26T20:32:00.003-04:00

Ed Mechmann of the Archdiocese of New York's Respect Life Office comments on the uncertainty involved in death penalty cases:

Proof beyond a reasonable doubt is sufficient to justify imprisonment, but I do not believe that it can deliver the level of certainty that is necessary to justify the use of lethal violence in an execution. It is not enough to eliminate the possibility of error.

The argument from uncertainty is compelling, particularly with respect to current death-row inmates who have been there for a long time, such as Anthony Graves, who was released after 18 years on Texas' death row for a number of murders he didn't commit. I wonder, however, about this going forward.

I am inclined to believe that prosecutors will tend to be more restrained in their seeking capital sentences, reserving it for cases with strong supporting forensic evidence; essentially, it's likely that juries at trials for capital crimes will adopt higher evidentiary standards going forward. Should that indeed happen, it would be welcome, but I still believe that we must consider capital sentences from the perspective of their necessity to maintaining the public order and defending the common good, rather than a calculus of whether or not a prosecutor has sufficient evidence to send someone to the gurney.

H/T Pentimento.

That said, when I say that I believe society still needs recourse to capital punishment for extreme cases where the public order cannot be served by life sentences alone, I have in mind the example of the neo-Assyrian Mexican drug cartels, who have no qualms about publicly displaying the dismembered bodies of their victims or dumping a truckload of bodies in the street during rush hour.

UPDATE: "some guy on the street" shares an article on The Origins of "Reasonable Doubt" that answers some of Mr. Mechmann's concerns.

Archbishop Chaput: "The Vocation of Christians in Public Life"

2011-09-23T22:54:00.003-04:00

A very good appearance that serves as a fitting introduction to his book Render Unto Caesar.

"The Romans hated Carthage above all because its people sacrificed their children to Ba'al."

"Not weighing our merits, but granting us your pardon..."

2011-09-23T15:55:00.002-04:00

In my previous offering on capital punishment I discussed the executions of Troy Davis and Lawrence Brewer, which happened on the same day, albeit with vastly different responses. Mr. Davis's execution occurred under a spotlight of worldwide attention, with tearful vigils and supporters wearing "I Am Troy Davis" t-shirts, while Mr. Brewer's execution occurred under a veil of comparable obscurity, aside from the laudable fast and prayer vigil by civil rights activist Dick Gregory. The two contrasting reactions led me to decry a tendency among death-penalty opponents to lionize certain death-row inmates, overlooking or downplaying their crimes, while questioning the righteousness of their executions.

This is borne out in Mark Shea's entry in which he remarks,

Our Judicial system, the envy of the world, successfully manages to kill Troy Davis before too much evidence of his possible innocence accrues and public demand to revisit the case creates a big paperwork headache for everybody. The important thing is that we got somebody killed, not whether or not they, you know, deserved it. Moloch requires sacrifice and isn't that picky about who he eats.

Setting aside objections about the sarcastic tone of the entry, the point I wish to make about this reasoning is that it assumes not only that Mr. Davis's execution was wrong, but that the state actively rushed an innocent man to death. (If he were innocent, not only would a death penalty be wrong, but it would also demand his release from prison.) The history of the case bears out my objection to that line of attack; Mr. Davis was tried and convicted in 1991, and his case went through a lengthy appeals process at both the state and federal level up to the United States Supreme Court, including an evidentiary hearing (ordered by the U.S. Supreme Court) on subsequent retractions by numerous witnesses. The courts at the highest level not only upheld the conviction, but also declined to order a new trial. This was a twenty-year case that had a considerable appeals process, not a drumhead trial in which the accused was rushed to his death.

To characterize those who support capital punishment of merely having a bloodthirsty need for vengeance on anyone is to distort the truth that justice must be served, that one of the primary roles of the state is to uphold justice, and that, in a constitutional republic such as ours, we elect and appoint prosecutors, magistrates, and judges, and, as citizens, serve as jurors to ensure that the interests of justice are served. (Just as it is an oversimplification to paint supporters of capital punishment as rash, vengeful, and bloodthirsty, so is it misguided to characterize death-penalty opponents as simply being "soft on crime" and insensitive to victims. Often, the most vocal advocates of their respective positions do a disservice by applauding executions, on the one hand, and turning convicted killers into political prisoners on the other.)

Although I favor a constitutional government based on limited, enumerated powers, I am not a libertarian; that is to say, I do not subscribe to a viewpoint that the state has no or very few powers to uphold and carry out justice. A system of courts, prosecutors, and law enforcement officers is necessary to pursue and uphold the common good, and is rightfully delegated to the state rather than to private individuals. That system is neither flawless nor infallible; that is one of the reasons I have deep reservations about using the death penalty. The work of The Innocence Project has borne this out. I believe the questions surrounding the Troy Davis case make that more clear, but, I also believe that even in a more clear-cut case such as that of Lawrence Brewer we ought to examine the use of capital punishment. The teaching of the Church tells us that we are to use bloodless means to protect public safety and order where those are sufficient. In both of these cases I believe that use of capital punishment was wrong on these grounds.

I also support the right of the state (contrary to some libertarian and, for lack of a better term, "liberal" positions) to use capital punishment in instances where public safety and order cannot be secured, and justice cannot be served, without bloodless measures. I use as examples crime family members who have the means to order hits from inside prisons, inmates who have killed other prisoners, as well as people who wage armed insurrection against government officials and buildings. Other instances that I would consider are people who have placed themselves outside the law, such as pirates and terrorists. That said, these are rare instances. The Church teachings, while not providing or limiting themselves to types of crimes that call for a death penalty, nonetheless uphold it as an option, rather than calling for a blanket abolition.

The differing reactions to these two executions, and often to discussions of death-row cases in general, has focused on whether a particular inmate "deserves" death. The lingering questions around Troy Davis led people to boldly proclaim his innocence, while Lawrence Brewer's case was left in comparable obscurity. Supporters of the executions, on the other hand, rightly pointed out that both men had committed terrible crimes, that they had been tried under our laws and had been given ample opportunity to present a defense, that their cases were allowed to be reviewed by appellate courts, and that they ought to be dealt with justice, which in their judgment entailed carrying out capital sentences in both instances.

Just as I looked to the Church teaching about capital punishment specifically in my previous entry, so now will I look at a Christian response to the question of justice and mercy in a broader sense here.

The central life of the Church, the "source and summit" of Her existence, is the celebration of Holy Mass, the Eucharist, in which the bread and wine are consecrated and transformed into the very Body and Blood of Christ. The central prayer of that liturgical encounter with God is the Roman Canon, or, more prosaically, "Eucharistic Prayer I". In the midst of that long and beautiful prayer is a section of intercessions, in which the priest prays on behalf of himself and all assembled for a share in eternal life with the saints (some of whom are then specifically named); this intercessory section concludes thus:

[A]dmit us, we beseech you, into their company, not weighing our merits, but granting us your pardon, through Christ our Lord.

This prayer serves to remind us that God's mercy is not contingent upon our merits, our conduct, good or otherwise, but rather that our pardon is given to us through Christ's love for us. This is an example of what Fr. Z means when he writes "the Church's preeminent form of communication: liturgical worship." The words of the prayer call to mind the harsh truth that, on our own, we are in fact deserving of death, of Hell, by virtue of our sinfulness, but that through the love of Christ, we are indeed saved and welcomed into His eternal presence.

What does that mean when looking at capital punishment? It means that, yes, indeed, those on death row in fact "deserve" death in light of their crimes (incidentally, the same idea of "deserving" applies to other convicts); it further means that the truly innocent, i.e. those who are wrongly convicted, do not "deserve" to be punished for crimes they did not commit, and that further, that justice requires they be compensated for their loss of reputation and their loss of productive years of work. As Christians, we must approach capital punishment not on such a basis of what one deserves, but rather on a balance of what upholds justice for crimes committed, what protects a stable civic order and ensures the safety of the general public, and what is aligned with God's call to be merciful.

A Few Thoughts on Capital Punishment

2011-09-22T00:53:00.005-04:00

Last evening, two men were executed by lethal injection, one in Georgia, one in Texas. Troy Davis, the man in Georgia, received a great deal of attention and outpourings of support, prayers, and crowds keeping vigil in person and on the social networks; the other, Lawrence Brewer, did not.

Mr. Davis in Georgia was convicted of shooting and killing a white policeman; Mr. Brewer in Texas was a white supremacist who was convicted of tying a black man to the back of his truck and dragging him to death.

Mr. Davis' case went through twists and turns over the course of 20 years of appeals, including recantations of testimony that have led even some unexpected sources to question the prudence of his execution.

Mr. Brewer's case is comparably cut-and-dried. (One accomplice, John William King, is on death row awaiting execution, while the other, Shawn Berry, is serving a life term in prison.)

Aside from this piece by David Henson, which, in turn links a surprising story, and the Facebook postings of one consistently anti-capital-punishment friend, I've not seen any remarks denouncing Mr. Brewer's execution.

I worry when I see some people applauding executions, but I also worry when I see some opponents of capital punishment make mawkish attempts to turn death-row inmates into innocent victims of a vengeful state. The applauding of an execution has a jarring unseemliness about it that denies the humanity of the man on the gurney; on the other hand, the emotional efforts to remake some death-row inmates into innocent victims of the state deny that they have, in fact, been convicted of terrible crimes and have had their cases adjudicated, often all the way up through the appellate courts, even to the U.S. Supreme Court.

What is needed is an examination of the place that capital punishment has in a system of justice. Church teaching is a good place to go, particularly for Catholics. In his 1995 encyclical Evangelium Vitae, Blessed Pope John Paul II wrote:

It is clear that, for these purposes to be achieved, the nature and extent of the punishment must be carefully evaluated and decided upon, and ought not go to the extreme of executing the offender except in cases of absolute necessity: in other words, when it would not be possible otherwise to defend society. Today however, as a result of steady improvements in the organization of the penal system, such cases are very rare, if not practically non-existent.

In any event, the principle set forth in the new Catechism of the Catholic Church remains valid: "If bloodless means are sufficient to defend human lives against an aggressor and to protect public order and the safety of persons, public authority must limit itself to such means, because they better correspond to the concrete conditions of the common good and are more in conformity to the dignity of the human person".

It is important to note several things in the passage. First of all, he does not call for the abolition of capital punishment outright, and in fact, he does leave it open as a prudential option for public authority to exercise in punishing criminal behavior. Secondly, however, and this is crucial, is that the execution of criminals must be limited to "cases of absolute necessity" where it would not be otherwise possible to defend society. In short, Catholic teaching is that capital punishment is a legitimate recourse of justice, but only in rare instances.

Paradoxically, it is only in growing in faith (and also in contemplating the virtue of justice, as well as in considering the role of the state) that I have come, in a way similar to Evangelical Christian prison chaplain Charles Colson, to recognize the legitimacy of capital punishment, at least in principle, while at the same time believe that it ought only to be applied in the most extreme instances. Examples of such people and circumstances that come to mind are: organized crime family or cartel members who are able to orchestrate murders even if imprisoned, serial killers, mass murderers, terrorists, and leaders of armed insurrection or attacks against government officials or buildings (such as Timothy McVeigh). Though I think there are instances when a death sentence may justly be applied, those instances are rare and exceptional.

In looking at the cases of both Troy Davis and Lawrence Brewer, I do not think either of them met that standard. Neither man was executed out of necessity; unlike some of the hypothetical examples I posed, neither man posed a continuing threat, and neither commanded networks outside prison that would be able to commit crimes on their behalf.

At the same time, it is vital for opponents of capital punishment to recognize that death-row inmates are there because they have been tried and convicted of heinous crimes, crimes with real victims to whom justice is due; death-penalty opponents do their cause a disservice by lionizing men such as Stanley "Tookie" Williams, Troy Davis, and Mumia Abu-Jamal, loudly proclaiming them innocent victims of a vengeful state rather than criminals whose executions are open to debate.

Our National Penance

2011-09-20T21:00:00.003-04:00

Victor Davis Hanson shares a bracing tonic on the great and unexpected favor that the Obama administration has done the country, in the form of revealing, openly and honestly, the reality of "progressive" governance. Rather than taking us there gradually, as a McCain or Hillary Clinton administration would have done, we have gone there quickly and uncompromisingly (or perhaps I should say "Fast and Furious"), leading us to a state of "catharsis" (to use Dr. Hanson's term).

This part jumped out at me:

Civility for Thee

In the manner of Richard Nixon, Obama and his supporters gave us first “Fight the Smears,” then Journolist, and now “AttackWatch.com” — the common denominator being to watch, monitor, report, and quash criticism of Him, in enlisting the loyal flock to go after the heretic on the list. The old liberal sermons on civility are dead too for the foreseeable future. The unanswered profane slurs of the Black Caucus and Jimmy Hoffa Jr. illustrated that Obama’s calls for polite discourse were inane at best, and at worst a crude ploy to silence conservative critics. Obama urged Latinos “to punish our enemies” one day, and lectured others to talk more cordially the next, and then kept still as his “base” let loose on political opponents as “son of bitches.” The next time Obama — or any other self-described no more red/no more blue state “unifier” — calls for an end to polarizing discourse, for good or evil, he will be met by outbursts of hilarity.

I realized last week, when the Obama campaign launched Attack Watch, that I suddenly didn't give a shit anymore about disclosing my negative opinions of this arrogant and malevolent administration. After three solid years of being called "racist" "enemy" "son of a bitch" and hearing that I need to be "taken out", "punished", and now, ratted on by my neighbors, I got fed up. Put differently, I have become more bold, in my willingness not only to stand up for myself, but also, more importantly, to proclaim and defend the Gospel in my daily interactions.

I have for three years now considered this difficult time our national penance, a time of purification and chastisement: in our complacent ignorance of our foundational principles of governance, in our lazy quest to get ever more government services and giveaways, in our uncharitable expectation that taking care of our families, friends, and neighbors was the job of government and not ourselves, we have set up for ourselves the situation in which we are currently mired.

The horror-show of statist progressivism has revealed itself to be anything but "liberal": from TSA sexual-assault pat-downs to yet another war to federal officials conducting armed raids on guitar manufacturers, we've seen very little "Hope" and a lot of very bad "Change".

One might say, in light of this administration's efforts to dictate the type of light bulbs one uses to what one eats, that the Democratic Party is not, in fact, "pro-choice" (as it often describes itself), but merely so devoted to killing the unborn that it will file lawsuits to make taxpayers continue to pay for abortions.

The economic hardships of the past years, beginning with the collapse of 2008 at the end of the Bush administration, have forced us to reconsider what is truly valuable and what isn't, the trying political situation has forced us out of our complacency and has led us to read up on history and economics to get a better understanding of our Constitutional form of government, and the larger picture of a world aflame has led us to see that the things of this world are passing away and to look at and proclaim the Last Things.

We are indeed in cathartic times, and we face an election cycle unlike any in our lifetimes. We have been drawn to a crisis point, that is to say, a time when we face a momentous decision. Prayer, prudence, and caution are needed more now than ever.

A good place to start...

2011-09-19T22:47:00.003-04:00

...when learning about Catholicism, religious liberty, and American politics is Render Unto Caesar, by Philadelphia's new Archbishop Charles Chaput, O.F.M.Cap., formerly of Denver.

Clearly written and fair, Abp. Chaput gives a good overview of the history of American religious liberty, and calling upon Catholics to live their faith in a public and open way, to live by their principles and to defend their traditions in the face of secularizing forces.

I read this as a beginning of my upcoming work on Kulturkampf and Ordered Liberty, and recommend it highly as a general primer on the topic.

Day of Rage!

2011-09-19T21:13:00.004-04:00

Communists and anarchists come together with a plot to TAKE OVER WALL STREET on a Saturday afternoon when nothing's open. Hilarity ensues, as blogger Zombie notes,

the failure of the much-hyped Day of Rage proved that the communists and the anarchists never will be able to smooth over their differences, and the far-left will necessarily fracture in two. The anarchists will break free of their socialist bedmates and drift more toward honest extreme libertarianism and anti-authoritarianism; while Team Marx will no longer feel the need to temper their collectivist message with a bunch of dishonest slogans about freedom and independence.

Pictures at the link of anarchists burning $1 Federal Reserve Notes have more truth to them than you might imagine, when looking at the spot prices of precious metals these days.

For all the discussion of rage, it is nothing compared to the Day of Wrath that the Prophet Zephaniah foretold.

Vote Early Vote Often

2011-09-19T21:05:00.002-04:00

I've been nominated for The Crescat's "Best Under Appreciated Blog" award, so please vote.

Let's git 'er done!

Max Lindenman...

2011-09-19T20:57:00.002-04:00

...takes a bold first step.

Welcome aboard, friend. There's always an open chair and a cup of hot coffee waiting for you.

St. Robert Bellarmine

2011-09-17T14:11:00.004-04:00

Today is the feast of St. Robert Bellarmine, the Jesuit cardinal and doctor of the Church whose life transcended the latter part of the 16th century and first half of the 17th. It is interesting to note that his political theories underlie those articulated in our own Declaration of Independence, in light of the fact that today, September 17, is also Constitution Day, marking the day on which the United States Constitution was signed.

Ed Peters weighs in on Fr. Pavone

2011-09-17T12:51:00.004-04:00

Sensible.

In thinking about this situation, and the situation earlier this year involving Fr. Corapi, several things become clear:

- first and foremost, our priests and bishops need our prayers

- second, as Mr. Peters points out in his piece, priests in prominent, public ministries need to be aware of the temptations they face, and they also need to remember what the priesthood is about. To be a priest is to offer the Sacrifice of the Mass and to administer the Sacraments to the people of the Church: to baptize, to celebrate the Mass, to hear confessions, to bless and to witness the consent given by spouses in matrimony, to anoint the sick, to confirm the faithful, and to ordain (the last two being the role of bishops rather than presbyters); other works, such as pro-life work, appearing on radio and TV, writing books, etc. are in addition to, not replacements for the vital work of celebrating the Sacraments. All of these things are to be done in obedience to the bishop; fame and prominence do not exempt a priest from obeying his bishop and religious superiors.

- third, the laity are also called to obey their bishops and the teachings of the Church. Angry reactions by lay defenders and supporters of prominent priests such as Fr. Corapi and Fr. Pavone have taken the form of accusations against the bishops' orthodoxy and good will, leading to misguided calls to "FREE FR. PAVONE!" and threats to engage in Alinskyite picketing campaigns outside churches until the bishop accedes to the wishes of Fr. Pavone's supporters. This is a situation in which the laity ought to stand down and wait for whatever financial audits and investigations are needed to conclude before jumping to conclusions about either Bishop Zurek or Father Pavone.

More excellent thoughts about the situation here, all by way of Mark Shea.

Liturgia Authenticam

2011-09-17T00:33:00.002-04:00

My erstwhile choir director Chris Mueller appears, along with Cardinal Raymond Burke and Fr. Jonathan Morris, in the trailer for this upcoming film on the renewal of the Liturgy in connection with the implementation this fall of the Revised Roman Missal.

I look forward to seeing the full production.

Ridge Endorses Huntsman

2011-09-17T00:07:00.003-04:00

Last time Tom Ridge's name appeared in the news was in the grand jury report released in connection with the indictment of Dr. Kermit Gosnell, the Philadelphia abortionist who is charged with eight counts of murder, for which prosecutors are seeking capital punishment. Gov. Ridge's administration, the Grand Jury noted, deliberately chose to look the other way with respect to conducting inspections and enforcement of health codes at Dr. Gosnell's clinic.

Today, ex-Gov. Ridge endorsed ex-Utah Gov. and former Obama administration ambassador to China Jon Huntsman for the GOP nomination. It seems that Huntsman does not have much of a chance anyway, polling very low behind front-runners Rick Perry and Mitt Romney, but a bigger question is why would the endorsement of a man considered to be Dr. Gosnell's unindicted co-conspirator be considered helpful to him?

Please help....

2011-09-16T12:06:00.004-04:00

A while back I promised to start writing on Kulturkampf and issues of religious liberty but have not yet begun do to some outside distractions.

In the interim, I ask you to assist the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops in their effort to defend the consciences of healthcare providers, who face mandates from the Department of Health and Human Services to provide contraception, sterilization, and "education" regardless of objections on the part of insurers and providers.

The page at the link will allow you to send comments both to HHS and also to your Congressman and Senators in support of the "Respect for Rights of Conscience Act" (H.R. 1179, S. 1467). Please also note that the page has Parish Bulletin Inserts that can be used at your church and in your community; talk to your pastor and suggest that the insert be used now until September 30, when the HHS comment period on this rule closes.

Thanks to Mark Shea for putting this up on his site, as well, and to Lisa Graas for strongly encouraging use of the bulletin inserts.

Petulance, Narcissism, and Incompetence...

2011-09-14T23:33:00.002-04:00

team up to bring you Attack Watch, the latest iteration in a series of data-mining websites set up by President Obama for citizens to snitch on their friends, relatives, and neighbors who disagree with the President's policies.

Fortunately, Americans continue to look at government recruitment of thoughtcrime informants with a spirit of cheerful derision and mockery. The derisive response was so overwhelming that even mainstream media outlets are referring to the site as a laughingstock.

Positive Developments

2011-09-14T21:53:00.002-04:00

Fr. Z posts positive news of today's meeting between SSPX superior Bishop Fellay and Cardinal Levada of CDF gives hope that the SSPX might soon be reconciled with the Church.

Please keep everyone involved in your prayers.

Tom Hoopes reflects on the Register's reporting of 9/11

2011-09-10T12:03:00.004-04:00

and provides this wonderful quote from the always likable and gracious former NYC Mayor Ed Koch:

“Unlike a lot of other religions, Catholicism is not a salad bar,” Koch told the Register. “It's very clear what Catholicism means and what it is about. You either are, or you are not, a practicing Catholic. Those who are not Catholic see this, and they admire it. That's one reason people turn to the Catholic Church at a time like this."

“In New York, we have always had pre-eminent occupiers in the office of cardinal,” Koch said. “Catholic leaders receive respect because they speak out, and they speak the truth, and this is highly regarded by the public. The Catholic Church also does more social service than any other organization, so in times of crisis, people are accustomed to the Church being there for them. When I had an AIDS crisis in New York, there was nobody I could turn to other than Cardinal O'Connor, Mother Teresa and the Catholic Church.”

The tradition of excellent Archbishops of New York continues in the person of the warm and genial, yet faithfully orthodox Archbishop Timothy Dolan. I spoke with my mother, who has been doing hospital visits as part of her parish's ministry, and who said a young man at the hospital approached her and the Franciscan brother she was with to ask if Archbishop Dolan might become Pope someday. The brother explained that it is unlikely we'd ever see an American Pope, to which the young man (apparently not even a Catholic!) remarked that he was sorry to hear it, as he very much admires the Archbishop and finds his life in the Gospel very attractive.

In the instance of both the young man and Mayor Koch, it is worth noting that a strong proclamation of the Faith, and a life visibly and consistently lived in accordance with it, is noticed by and attractive to the world.

"When the Polish Dominicans Left Morningside Heights"

2011-09-02T11:03:00.002-04:00

Nicholas Frankovich reflects over at First Things on the departure of the Polish Dominican friars from my old church, the Church of Notre Dame.

It saddened me deeply that Hurricane Irene prevented my planned trip up to New York last weekend to sing one last time at the farewell Mass for the Dominicans. They were deeply influential in my return to and growth in the faith, and I will be forever grateful to them for their joyful example of the life in Christ. Their reverence for the truth and for beautiful liturgical practice, solid preaching, and also for cheerful hospitality showed me that the faith isn't a matter of knowledge, or simply "doing things right", but is rather a profound and life-changing relationship.

That they are gone saddens me terribly, but it is reassuring to me to know that they are taking their love and their joy to other corners of the world, to share with those who have not yet experienced it.

Was there a Golden Era?

2011-08-30T22:51:00.004-04:00

This piece came over the electronic transom of my Facebook news feed and it reminded me that it's a topic I've needed to write about for some time.

It asks whether the "Golden Age" of American Catholicism in the 1940's and '50's was actually an illusion held together by a sense of obligation.

I am far too young to know that era, but based on my observation of my parents' generation, I am inclined to say that there was no Golden Age. It is tempting for traditionally-minded Catholics (particularly ones raised in the '70's, '80's, and '90's) to look back over time, over the wasteland of guitar-and-tambourine Masses, felt banners, and lax and muddled theology and assume that somehow, everything was just terrific before the "Spirit of Vatican II" unleashed its wrath on a perfectly functioning Church.

Aside from being an exercise in Sentimentalism, this view assumes that the generation that came of age just before, or at, the time of Vatican II was as well catechized and knowledgeable about the faith as people are now.

I consider myself traditionally oriented in my faith: I assent to the truths of the faith and to the authority of the Holy Father and the bishops, I deeply treasure the history of the Church, I immerse myself in the Sacraments and Sacred Scripture, and I seek to beautify the liturgical life of the Church with my singing. I returned to the faith in adulthood and sought out solid preaching, reverent liturgical practice, and true Christian community life; in time, I started to attend the traditional Latin Mass ("Tridentine Mass" or "Extraordinary Form"), though not exclusively.

In the course of this, I have met and befriended many other traditionally-minded Catholics and notice that they, too, are well-informed and have a deep understanding of not only the teachings of the Faith, but also liturgical practice, history, philosophy, and theology.

What many contemporary Traditionalists fail to understand, it seems, is that they are far better versed in the truths of the Faith and of liturgical practice than their parents' and grandparents' generations were. This is by no means a scientific statement, but based on the observation of the faith (or lack thereof) in my own family, it is plain to me that I know much more about Catholicism than my parents (who graduated from high school in 1965) do.

My mother has been a churchgoer on and off throughout my life, but has recently found a parish she likes and has joined it. She is also open to learning the Catechism and seems interested also in developing her prayer life and other practices, but she still has a generally Pelagian approach to the Faith; when she speaks of her faith, she quickly returns to the idea that she seeks to be "a good person" but she does not mention the central truth of Christianity, which is that Christianity is not a system of thought but rather a relationship with God in the person of Jesus Christ.

My father, on the other hand, has long abandoned Catholicism, and believes that the primary foundation of Christianity is shame. He has no recollection, at least that he talks about, of forgiveness, of a loving relationship with God's only-begotten Son, or of the remission of sins.

For both of my parents, both of whom had Catholic educations through high school, they have little or no understanding of what goes on during the Mass, what the truths of the faith are, or what the history of salvation is from the times of the ancient covenant with the Israelites up through the Incarnation, Death and Resurrection of Christ and beyond into these, the Last Days. The common reaction for them seems to be either a) try to overcome sin through works, as my mother believes, or b) to deny the reality of sin in the first place, as my father does.

To gain knowledge of Church history is to understand that there never was a Golden Age. As Catholics, we mark our time in centuries and know that some were better than others. The thirteenth century, that high-water mark of Scholasticism, the century of St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Bonaventure looks pretty good from 750 years out. The eighteenth century of decadence, of rationalistic, "Enlightenment" philosophy, of regicide, of Terror and persecution looks pretty bad. I believe the twentieth century, with its two World Wars, with its Soviet Communism, with its National Socialist extermination campaigns, with its atomic weapons, and with its materialist, consumerist debasement of culture, might be marked as one of the worst.

But we cannot let that bleakness get in the way of sharing our hope with others; Edith Stein knew that. Nor can we assume that those who came before us had it all and maliciously discarded it. As Pope Benedict XVI noted in his homily on August 28, “we bring people so little of the light of His face, because from us comes so little certainty that He exists, that He is there, and that He is the Great One that everyone is waiting for.” For those of us who are young and alive in the Faith, that evangelization often must start at home with our families and our friends, those who lived in a "Golden Age" that never actually happened.

"There was no king in Israel..."

2011-08-30T22:35:00.001-04:00

Levite and His Concubine at Gibeah, Jan Victors, Dutch (ca. 1650)

The final verse of the book of Judges (21:25) is "In those days there was no king in Israel; every man did what was right in his own eyes."

That text is a recurring theme near the end of the book, prefacing the establishment of the shrine of the molten image at Shiloh by the Danites in ch. 18, as well as the ghastly story of the outrage at Gib'e-ah in ch. 19.

The latter story is reminiscent of the story of Sodom at Genesis 19; in Judges, a traveling Levite and his concubine stop in the Benjaminite town of Gibe'e-ah for the night and sit in the town square waiting for someone to take them in. Eventually, an old man, also a foreigner to the town, takes them in and feeds their animals, washes the travelers' feet, and gives them food and drink. During the night, men of the town, Benjaminites (therefore, members of one of Israel's twelve tribes) demand that the host send the traveling Levite out to them so that they might have sex with him. Undeterred by the hosts' protestations, the mob persists until the Levite sends his concubine out; the crowd of men rape her all night until morning, at which point she dies on the threshold of the house. The Levite, finding her dead, dismembers her body into twelve pieces and sends her throughout all Israel, after which the tribes make war on the tribe of Benjamin.

That final verse seems initially to be a purely political statement; in pointing to the absence of a king, the author of Judges demonstrates the seeming necessity of the Davidic monarchy that follows the period of the Judges. But that verse is far richer than a simple political statement; it also admits that the true, intended King of Israel, the LORD, is being ignored, and His laws disregarded in favor of worship of the false gods of the surrounding gentile peoples, which ultimately results in the moral observation that "every man did what was right in his own eyes."

The failure to keep the LORD's commandments caused not only widespread political chaos within Israel, but it also led to moral relativism, in which the powerful mob in Gibe'e-ah prevailed over the duty to hospitality, care for the vulnerable, and the important call to unity within the Israelite community.

This passage is particularly instructive now, today, in which we observe the coming to fruition of our own irreligiosity and moral decay. Much of this has come up in discussion with my good friend Drusilla, as we ask ourselves the question, "How can we restore our broken nation?" I am planning on putting up posts periodically concerning Kulturkampf and church/state issues here in America today.

For now, I invite you to reflect on the book of Judges and to see what it would mean for you to have "no king" on the one hand, and to have the LORD as King, on the other.

"Come, we are going for our people."

2011-08-30T00:36:00.000-04:00

My mother generously sent me Edith Stein and Companions: On the Way to Auschwitz for my birthday, to my great surprise, as I had seen it around and thought of picking up a copy. I have always been interested in the stories of Jewish Catholics, particularly in light of the great influence Roy Schoeman's books have had on my faith formation over the past seven years or so.

It was through his book Salvation is from the Jews that I came to understand better the continuity of Judaism and Catholicism, and also that I came to learn of such people as Edith Stein, Alphonse Ratisbonne, and Israel Zoller (a/k/a Eugenio Zolli). In reading about the lives of Jewish Catholics, as well as in immersing myself in the Old Testament scriptures, I came to see how the Catholic faith is the fulfillment and culmination of Judaism, of the Law and the Prophets.

Edith Stein and Companions concerns the retaliatory deportation of Catholic Jews out of the Netherlands and onward to the death camp at Auschwitz by the National Socialists in August of 1942, as a response to a pastoral letter promulgated by the Dutch Bishops protesting condemning the Jewish policies of the Nazi regime. It begins by giving a general overview of the arrests of the Catholic Jews, who had long been registered and tracked by the Nazi government, on August 2, 1942. The subsequent chapters detail the lives of some of the individual victims, beginning with Edith Stein and her sister Rosa.

As I read about Edith Stein, and her sister, and the other Catholic Jews who were arrested, deported, gassed, and buried in mass graves in Auschwitz, I am struck by their faith, by their unification of their sufferings to those of Christ, and by their clear affirmation of their faith as the fulfillment of their Judaism. What would I do in a similar situation?

"Come," Edith Stein said to her sister Rosa at the time of their arrest, "we are going for our people."

It is difficult for me to envision being not only so composed, but also being so with such a clear understanding of the nature of suffering. I can hope that, in the face of trial, abuse, persecution and distress, I too would keep the faith.

St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, pray for me!

After the Storm

2011-08-28T20:32:00.003-04:00

I spent Friday and yesterday getting prepared for Hurricane Irene, including buying water, non-perishable food items, and candles. The latter were sold out just about everywhere I went, until late yesterday afternoon in the heavy rains when I went to the National Shrine gift shop, which still had plenty in stock. For future reference, if you need to prepare for possible power outages and all the Wal-Marts/Targets/Rite Aids are sold out of candles, be sure to stop in the gift shop of the local Catholic cathedral or a Catholic bookshop; we're fully stocked!

Fortunately, my part of Maryland weathered the storm very well (other than scattered power outages overnight and through today), without major property damage or injury in my town. We were very fortunate. I admit to being a bit petulant: there is part of me that wanted to stand on the porch, yelling into the wind "show me your worst!" and to be without power for several days on end, but I look at things realistically and know that I am grateful that neither I nor anyone else I know experienced any property damage or injury. We are truly fortunate to have gotten through this unscathed.

In a sort of liturgical coincidence with natural events, the Psalm in today's Office of Readings was Psalm 104, in which the Psalmist proclaims the glory of God's creation, including the winds and the waters.

And once the last vestiges of the storm passed over around noon, it was a beautiful, warm, and sunny day.

The things of this world are passing away....

2011-08-26T11:53:00.002-04:00

It's been an incredibly unusual week here in the D.C. area, indeed all along the East Coast.

I've never experienced an earthquake before, and my experiences of hurricanes was limited to some heavy rains in Brooklyn resulting from Hurricane Floyd shortly after moving to New York in 1999.

And now, within the course of only a couple of days, I have experienced the 5.8 earthquake that shook buildings and caused cracks in the Washington Monument and toppled spires on the National Cathedral. This weekend, the entire East Coast braces for the landing of Hurricane Irene, which threatens to swamp lowlying areas such as the New Jersey shore and Lower Manhattan.

In my strong dislike for the corruption and arrogance embodied by Washington, D.C. (which has, admittedly driven me on many occasions to the brink of wrath and despair), I have prayed for destruction of the city. The earth's trembling this week served to remind me that my prayers are indeed heard, that they are powerful and so I must be cautious in what I pray for, rather than spiteful and rash. It is my hope that the earthquake and the hurricane serve as corrective chastisements rather than phenomena to be dismissed or ignored, on the one hand, or causes of widespread death and destruction on the other.

This all serves as a good reminder that, as Fr. Z. points out, we are indeed in the End Times, and have been since the Ascension. The things we see going on around us remind us of that, and serve as signs that we must repent of our sins and our attachments to falsehood. We are given the Sacraments, particularly of Penance, to bring us back to God and be close to Him; it is good to keep this in mind in times of crisis and distress.

Are these things signs of the End? Maybe; we know neither the time nor the place, and so we must remain vigilant and avoid the allurements of sin and death regardless of circumstances.

I'm in the running...

2011-08-21T20:39:00.002-04:00

...for The Crescat's "Best Under Appreciated Blog" award, which probably means I should start putting up content more regularly in order to game the results in my favor.

Sobriety as Covenant

2011-08-18T20:25:00.002-04:00

As I get more steeped in Old Testament scripture, I have come to look more closely at the reality of covenant, of the relationship of promise between God and His chosen Israelite people throughout the course of history and culminating in the Incarnation, Death, and Resurrection of His only Son.

A recurring truth in the covenant relationship is the reality that it is God who reaches out constantly to His people, without respect to their social status or other such external considerations, and offers the promise of His love, peace, and protection, if only they remain faithful to Him and observe His commandments. The more profound truth to this, though, is that the relationship is expressly not a contractual one: the parties are not equal, nor does God sever the relationship when His people disobey. Even when the people descend into wickedness and sin (as one sees throughout the histories such as in Judges, Samuel, and Kings), God remains with the people; many of the greatest figures in those books, such as Samson, David, and Solomon, do wicked and sinful things, and yet enjoy God's favor.

I was talking with a friend the other day when I realized that my journey in sobriety thus far has been similarly covenental: what began with a freely and undeservedly-given revelation grew into a desire to live up to the promise of freedom from the bondage of alcoholism, from the "bondage of self"; as the years have gone by, I have seen more and more the operations of God's love in my history and in my daily life.

This process of reflecing on history and remembering that God operates in the present time as well, has sustained me through a periodically difficult 9 years. Throughout that time, however, I tried to remind myself that it is my "job" to follow Him wherever He would have me go, and to trust that He will take care of the rest.

Part of that means to give thanks, first to Him, and then to all those who have supported me materially and spiritually over the years, including those of you who read my jottings and have kept me in your prayers. Thank you all from the depths of my heart.

Before the First Step...

2011-08-16T23:51:00.002-04:00

...there is Step Zero. My good friend Don L. joins the ranks of the sober Catholic blogging elite!

Ego dormio et cor meum vigilat...

2011-08-16T22:56:00.003-04:00

"I slept, but my heart was awake." - (Song of Songs 5:2)

I read that verse this evening and realized that it summarizes my life story. As I approach nine years of sobriety this week, I look back and see that, even in the worst of times, I was looking for God underneath it all the whole time.

Coming Soon...

2011-08-12T13:40:00.002-04:00

...Dawn Eden will be following up her very successful and informative 2006 book The Thrill of the Chaste with her upcoming book My Peace I Give You: Healing Sexual Wounds with the Help of the Saints.

I have been helping read the chapters as she writes them, and, based on what I've seen so far, I assure you that this will be a great help and service to many.

"I Am a Cosmic Killjoy"

2011-08-12T12:18:00.002-04:00

Mark Shea artfully meditates on the improbability of intelligent extraterrestrial life over at the Register.

Think of the Drake Equation as a formula explaining Psalm 8.

London is Burning

2011-08-09T20:39:00.005-04:00

I, and the rest of America, look on in horror as London continues to be consumed with rioting, looting, and robbing in the streets. In the face of police impotence, people are arming themselves however they can to defend their neighborhoods, homes, and businesses from the mobs (which have resorted to stripping their victims naked in the streets).

As Ben over at the HQ remarked in the sidebar: "When a state disarms it's [sic] citizens, there is an unspoken promise that the state will protect it's [sic] citizens." This reaffirms in my mind why our Second Amendment rights are so valuable, and ought to be vigorously and jealously defended: we Americans are allowed to use firearms for personal defense, so that we don't have to resort to making emergency purchases of baseball bats off Amazon when things go south. (h/t Sam @ The Stone Owl).

Live coverage can be found at the Telegraph and the BBC.

UPDATE: The Camp of the Saints has a collection of harrowing photos.

Fr. Z has a moment of memory...

2011-08-09T20:34:00.002-04:00

A long-forgotten scent takes him back to a time when he was twelve years old in the kitchen with his grandmother.

A Tiny, Whispering Sound

2011-08-08T02:15:00.001-04:00

This past Sunday, we heard of the Prophet Elijah's encounter with the LORD on Mount Horeb, where Elijah was in hiding from those sent to kill him by order of the wicked Queen Mother Jezebel. The LORD tells Elijah that he will pass by the cave; Elijah confronts a strong wind, an earthquake, and a fire, but the LORD was in none of those. After the fire, however, he hears "a tiny whispering sound" and moves to the entrance of the cave with his face covered.

How easy it is to overlook the fact that we often meet God in the silence and and peace, rather than in mighty signs. It is natural to expect the King of Creation to come to us with noise and terrifying upheavals, but we forget that even more awe-inspiring and powerful than earthquakes and thunderbolts is an intimate encounter with the Living God in silence and solitude.

I have had just that sort of experience on two occasions now when visiting Madonna House near the Capitol. I have twice gone into poustinia (Russian for "desert") for 1/2 day silent retreats, fasting on bread and water. With no phone, no radio or TV, or computer, or any other noisemakers, and no books other than the Scriptures, it is an intense and restorative encounter with God. Both times I have gone I have experienced deep and intense sleep while praying my Rosary.

I invariably fall asleep when praying the Rosary, and for years was embarrassed by my drowsiness, as I thought it a sign of inattention or boredom. After my experiences in the poustinia, I have come to see that it is more the sleep of a small child who is completely secure and relaxed in his Mother's lap. While praying the Sorrowful Mysteries this past Friday, I was seeing vivid images of Christ's Passion: the blood was running down His face, and I was overcome with sadness, because I knew that I had done that to Him, and that He loves me anyway, and forgives me.

Even when I am asleep.

A Moment of Providence

2011-08-04T01:42:00.000-04:00

This little fledgling robin sat on my foot while I was praying morning prayer out on the porch recently, on the feast of the Franciscan Saint Bridget. There was not much else to do other than be grateful.

On the topic of memory...

2011-08-02T18:25:00.003-04:00

Holy Church mourns this week the passing of Archbishop Pietro Sambi, the Apostolic Nuncio to the United States. As nuncio (the Holy See's ambassador), he was responsible for recommending candidates for bishop to Pope Benedict XVI, including such dynamic appointees as Abp. Timothy Dolan (Archdiocese of New York), Archbishop Jose Gomez (Archdiocese of Los Angeles), and most recently, Archbishop Charles Chaput (Archdiocese of Philadelphia), and for this reason his influence in the Church in America will continue for years.

My dear friend and blogmother Dawn Eden had a unique opportunity to meet him several years ago, and recounts her thoughts in this interview at the National Catholic Register.

Archbishop Sambi's funeral will be in his hometown of Sogliano sul Rubicone, Italy, while a memorial Mass will be celebrated here in the United States at the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception on the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, September 14.

Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Memory, Identity, and the Workings of Providence

2011-08-02T03:10:00.001-04:00

This past Sunday, the 18th Sunday of the Year, I sang the proper offertory chant from the Roman Gradual, "Precatus est Moyses" (Ex. 32:11-14), in which Moses prays to the LORD to remember the covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and to turn back His wrath from the Israelites, who in their impatience and lack of faith, had erected the Golden Calf to worship.

This beautiful chant inspired me to sit down and write a little about the phenomenon of memory. I have been meditating upon memory rather deeply this year, as I have been confronting my past more deeply than ever before over the course of the past several months. How does one address painful memories, or perhaps pleasant memories of days gone by and not to be relived?

****

Recovering alcoholics recounting their stories often speak of having a "built-in forgetter"; the insanity of alcoholism is the tendency to dismiss the ill effects of alcoholism, and, after a period of abstinence, to become convinced that it is once again "safe" to start drinking.

Likewise, many of us have, in the course of our drinking, experienced blackouts (periods where we do not remember doing or saying things). I suffered from terrors upon waking up and being unable to remember where I'd been the night before, and what I'd been doing. What if I had said or done something that hurt a friend, or caused embarrassment at work, or even committed a crime?

Near the end, I would periodically call friends the next day to fish around for clues; I would ask innocent-sounding questions such as "did you have fun last night?" in order to elicit information about my own behavior. I was too frightened and embarrassed to ask people directly "how was I last night?"

Now, almost nine years later, I find myself remembering things long buried, while at the same time finding it is difficult to remember many things from the 14 or so years that I drank. I can remember certain events with great clarity, but the rest of the time is an impressionistic wash of illness, remorse, fear, loneliness, hangovers, vomiting, and blinding sunlight pouring through the unshaded windows of my messy little Harlem studio apartment. There were heartaches, lost wallets, cab rides with strangers, ill-starred affairs, a terrorist attack, Sunday night baths with whiskey and menthol cigarettes while listening to Mozart piano sonatas, Schubert lieder, or Beethoven symphonies.

My dissipation showed itself in what I read, histories and biographies from that worst of all periods, the late 18th Century, in which decadent and debased men such as Giacomo Casanova went about Europe carousing and seducing, leaving despair and ruin in their midst. Soon, I knew, the party would end for him and for his like; the horrific conflagration of the French Revolution hung in my consciousness at the time, with its spiraling madness and violence. Even then, perhaps, I sensed the impending end of my own party; reading those books and seeing the horrifying historical result of man's quest for Enlightenment on his own terms, absent any consideration other than exertion of force and scientific rationalism, I sensed through the smoke blowing uptown from Ground Zero my own mortality.

Somewhere in the midst of that I became a religious man. Not a churchgoer, not yet, but I met God in the music of men who loved Him and sought to walk in His ways. In the midst of the bleakness of alcoholism and Enlightenment philosophy and history I found consolation in listening to J.S. Bach and Joseph Haydn. I fell asleep every night listening to Bach's 2nd Partita for Solo violin. At times when I was tempted to jump in front of a subway train, I remembered that I would never get to hear Bach again, and so I stepped back from the platform edge.

****

In Purgatorio, the second volume of Dante's Divine Comedy, the penitent sinner reaches the Garden of Eden at the summit of Purgatory, and is washed first in the waters of the River Lethe (which causes him to forget the now purgated sins he committed in earthly life), after which he drinks of the River Eunoe, which restore and strengthen his memory of his life's good deeds, all in preparation for his entry into Heaven.

It is worth noting that Dante places the full healing of memory at the top of Purgatory, long after earthly death and the long process of atonement for one's sins. Setting aside dementia, injury, or some other illness that affects one's mental faculties, it is in man's nature to remember, to carry with him through his life memories of events both good and bad. Why would that be? How does one reconcile God's love with the burden of painful memories?

****

God doesn't erase our memories because they help to constitute us as individuals, and His creatures whom He loves. Rather than blot out our memories of injuries, heartbreaks, and sins we've endured and committed, God forgives us our offenses and preserves the memory so that we might recall the love He has for us.

The Christian faith, like the Jewish faith that it fulfills and onto which it is grafted, is based in many ways upon the practice of active memory or recollection. At every Mass, we hear the words of Jesus at the consecration, when He tells His Church to "do this [celebrate the Eucharist] in memory of me." On Ash Wednesday, at the imposition of ashes on our foreheads, we are instructed, "Remember, man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Likewise, the Exultet and readings at the Easter Vigil remind us of all the things God has done for us in creating the world, in choosing Abraham to become father of a vast nation, of leading the Israelites through the Red Sea and out of Egypt, and finally, in giving us His only Son as a perfect sacrifice for the forgiveness of all our sins.

In recalling these things, we draw upon the tradition of active memory that is given to the Jewish people in such places as Deuteronomy 6:4-9 ("Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one LORD..."), the prayer of Moses referenced above (Ex. 32:11-14), the Psalms (e.g. Ps. 132, "Remember, O LORD, in David's favor, all the hardships he endured..."), and in a profound and extended way, the Historical books (Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1 & 2 Samuel, 1 & 2 Kings, 1 & 2 Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah), as well as the extended narrative of patriarchs, kings, and prophets recounted in Sirach 44-50 ("Let us now praise famous men, and our fathers in their generations.").

It is remarkable to note the amount of writings dedicated to the history of God's people; the stories recount not only the deeds of heroes and holy men and women, but also those of wicked figures who lead the people away from God and into abomination, disgrace, persecution, exile, and catastrophe. And yet, through it all, God remains faithful to His covenant. The stories become not only cautionary tales, but testimonies to God's love and forgiveness.

****

And so it is for individuals now, today. Our memories become tamed by the forgiveness that is given to us freely through God's grace. We can look at the memories of past sins and give thanks for having been forgiven, as St. Bernard observes. In recalling God's providence and forgiveness, the times that we stumble can only lead us to love Him more, as we see not how far we fell, but how far He raised us up again.

Marsha Paske (1952-2011)

2011-06-18T23:59:00.000-04:00

A frequently-heard aphorism says, "a true friend is someone who knows you and loves you anyway."

Although the expression does not represent what we know to be the true nature of love, there is an element of truth in it. In an age when "friend" has become a verb and friendships are for many utilitarian arrangements based on political or professional affiliation, it is rare that one finds a friend who stands with you through thick and thin.

For the past 18 years I was blessed to have such a friend in Marsha Paske. We met when we worked together at a law firm in Minneapolis and became fast friends. A quiet and sensitive woman, she set out make a new life and have a new adventure in New York in 1998, certainly a far cry from her Iowa roots.

I admired her fortitude in taking the big plunge into New York, where she didn't know anyone and where she didn't much room for failure. She lived in the old McBurney YMCA on W. 23rd St. in Manhattan for several months after first moving there, during which time she received her mail General Delivery at the big Farley Post Office on Eighth Avenue, not far from Macy's, where she worked in the bridal registry department.

She eventually found an apartment with a roommate in upper Manhattan, where she hosted me for a few days when I visited in 1999, when I realized that I too wanted to emulate her lead and set out for New York as well. By the time I arrived at the end of the summer of 1999, Marsha was living in Brooklyn, where she lived out her days on W. 20th Street, a few blocks west of Green-Wood Cemetery. There she led a quiet, almost monastic life with her three cats, drawing and painting.

She could not help but to exude her enthusiasm for the city and its charming peculiarities. To her, no one thing more completely summarized the aesthetic of the city than its ubiquitous yellow taxicabs; she amassed a collection of toy taxis that she kept in a bowl in her home office to inspire her artistic endeavors.

Whereas she liked taxis, my affections lay with the blue "We Are Happy To Serve You" coffee cups, and once when we were out together in the East Village, she told me to stay outside while she ducked into a corner deli. Several minutes later she emerged with two big stacks of said coffee cups and handed them to me, saying, "Merry Christmas!" and then proceeded to tell me how she convinced the confused owner to sell them to her for $5 over his protestations ("not for sale!") because her friend liked them so much, and it was Christmas time, after all.

In contrast to Marsha's quiet solitude, my early days in New York were a frenzy of manic adventures and foibles, of late drunken nights in jazz clubs and hangover mornings in Greek diners over coffee and pancakes. In the midst of that was Marsha, a gentle and sororial soul who was present in both joy and calamity, and who once on a particularly drunken night, saw me home and tucked me in out of concern for my safety.

She had the rare ability to say much in saying little, and she had the rare gift of being able to lighten the darkest of situations with a quick and understated wit. On the morning after the night when she saw me home, we wended our way from my apartment in Harlem to a Greek diner near Columbus Circle; in the station a Chinese man was playing his erhu, a native stringed instrument with a particularly nasal timbre. The cacophonous sound it generated bounced off tiled station walls, aggravating the headache caused by the previous evening's excesses. While I grumbled, Marsha gently remarked, "normally I can wrap my mind around a good Asian melody, but this is not one of those times."

After I sobered up, she was one of the few friends I kept with from the "old life." Though she was in my drinking life, she was not of it, and any time we spent together was as easy and familiar as always. We continued as always, meeting up over coffee, going to museums or Coney Island, and encouraged each other in our struggles to grow into the world, into the dreams we had.

Marsha was private, and would tell me, "some day, but I'm not ready yet," whenever I'd ask her to show me her artwork. Imagine, then, the honor and joy I experienced when, at my farewell-to-NYC party I hosted at my apartment last October, she brought with her a book of sketches she'd done in a drawing class she was taking! She asked my other guests if we could be excused, and we went into my bedroom where she opened the book on my bed and pointed out the figures she'd drawn; a hand here, a woman posing there. "I don't quite have the legs right," she said, with tears in her eyes. "It looks good to me," I replied, "considering it's been some years since you've drawn. I know you'll come along." She gave me a hug and folded the book back together, and we resumed the party. Before she left, she remarked to D. that she wasn't sure about her at first, but having gotten to know and like her, she was happy for me and for her; her big-sister affection for me was still there, almost 18 years later.

That evening was the last time I saw her alive. Yesterday, I came out of my barber's with a fresh summer trim and saw that I had a voicemail on my cell phone. It was a woman from Marsha's office, informing me that Marsha had provided them my information for an emergency contact, and that she had died that afternoon after an illness that landed her in Methodist Hospital, in her beloved Brooklyn. The woman went on to say that Marsha's family in Minnesota would be coming to New York to claim her body and return with her to the Midwest for burial, but she left no details or contact information for me.

It is my hope and trust that she was neither alone nor afraid in her final hours, and that she kept her humor to the end. She was not a religious woman, and yet she was one who sought to see the face of God in all and everyone she encountered, whether or not she would phrase it that way. "I love life!" she would exclaim during phone calls or over coffee. She had been raised Methodist in Iowa ("the main focus of the Methodist church is, I think, having casseroles in the church basement" she said to me once after she attended one of my many Catholic choir concerts, which she faithfully attended), and so it is my belief that she had been marked with the sign of faith, though she did not adhere to a creed; and so it is my hope and my sincere prayer that, marked with the sign of the cross, and claimed in the name of the Trinity whom we in Holy Church celebrate this Sunday, our Lord will recognize her and welcome her into His loving and eternal embrace, to the Great and Unending Hello of Heaven.

Farewell, dear friend. Saddened by your departure, I rejoice and thank God for having known you at all.

"

Prayers Answered!

2011-06-14T17:27:00.003-04:00

St. Luke's Parish in Bladensburg, MD (just down the road from where I live) announced last week that they will be joining a forthcoming personal ordinariate for Anglican use in the Washington, D.C. area. They will be receiving instruction in the Catholic faith, while their rector prepares to be ordained a Catholic priest. They will retain their church building, as well as their liturgical traditions. St. Luke's is the first parish in the United States to come over.

It is most fitting that it would be a parish in the D.C. area, as Cardinal Donald Wuerl, the Catholic Archbishop of Washington, has been put in charge of implementing Anglicanorum coetibus here in the U.S.

In addition to St. Luke's, the Hollywood, CA parish of St. Mary of the Angels has also voted to join the Ordinariate.

The outreach of our Pope, and the good will of the faithful people of the Anglican communion are truly bringing about a marvelous reunification of the Church, and are proving to be answers to my prayers.

In his efforts to reconcile the Anglicans to the Church, in addition to his working with the Society of St. Pius X, are bringing about renewal throughout Holy Church. In this effort to bring about reunification, Pope Benedict XVI reminds me a bit of the marvelous story of Hezekiah, King of Judah who sends for the people of the Northern Kingdom and invites them to celebrate the Passover in Jerusalem as one people, once again. He is rightfully called a Pope of Christian Unity.

Please pray for him, and for the people of St. Luke's parish and St. Mary of the Angels as they prepare to join us.

The Sins of Others and the Death of Desire

2011-06-14T04:30:00.001-04:00

A friend asked me, in response to my post about the Holy Spirit, to elaborate on the sins of others that I noted by highlighting the passage from St. Bernard, and how they affect me today.

It's important to discuss, while at the same time seeking to avoid the sin of detraction, in which the truthful disclosure of others' sins and character defects serves to tarnish their good names. In that spirit I will not use names or initials.

****

This is, in a way, a story of philosophical development, about how I became a Stoic without having read the thinkers of that school such as Marcus Aurelius.

At some point before I can consciously remember, I became an angry child. When I was about 4 or so, I recall that I would become upset and bash my head against the side of the stove or a wall. I don't know why, but I suspect that it was the frequent conflict at home that set me on edge.

I was about 5 or so when I decided that I didn't want to marry or have a family, and it was about that time that I also started to look forward to "growing up" so that I could pay my own way. I was self-conscious from a young age about my inability to care for myself. My early disinterest in family life sprang from a desire not to be reliant on others, a desire to demonstrate that I didn't need a woman to "blow my nose and wipe my butt" for me, to use my mother's phrase.

My mother had other phrases and mannerisms as well. She had a tendency to confide in me, which made me feel grown up, on the one hand, but also made me uneasy, particularly when she expressed her annoyance to me about my father's sexual advances toward her, or when she would angrily denounce him, or my sister, or other family members to me. I wanted to be there to comfort her, but I also didn't know how to respond.

In the midst of all that adult behavior, I learned to sneak around and to do things I wanted on the sly: when people weren't around I would sneak cookies or other snacks, I would read with a flashlight under the covers, I would sneak watching TV when I got home from school (before anyone else was around). Once, in about 4th grade, a friend lent me a hand-held video game (a primitive thing by today's standards) that was like a set of binoculars; I hid it under my bed for about a month and would occasionally play it when I was sure nobody was around to see me.

I was free when I was alone; I didn't have to worry about anyone exploding into a rage or criticizing me when I was by myself. It was then that I first started going to Mass by myself, too. I confess that I took comfort in those "folk Mass" hymns and songs that were in vogue at the time (this being the early to mid 80's), and so I would make a point of getting up and dressed, and walking the several blocks by myself over to Mass to sing the songs and be with God.

****

I seemed to get sick often - ear infections, colds, nasty flu bugs, that sort of thing. Sometimes I played sick so I could stay home alone rather than going to school.

I also had nightmares a lot: one was where I was inside a house and either a large hand, like King Kong's, would come through a window or wall and grab me or else a wrecking ball would burst through the wall and demolish the house while I was inside; there were others where I would fall from a high place such as a cliff or a tall building. Those changed later on: in high school they were of the late/unprepared for a test/paper dream, and after the time I was molested by a strange older woman, it became a continual series of dreams of self-mutilation with a knife and dreams of attending my own funeral. Later, during the impressionistic years of gin and jazz, I recall a lot of dreams of missing trains, one particularly terrifying iteration of which had me looking down at the ground and seeing that I didn't have a shadow. These days, the nightmares are ones in which I'm trying to escape from a war-torn city, or pulling glass and metal shards out of the blasted stump of my hand with my teeth, or on one notable occasion, one in which the ancient Ammonite god Molech is eating the souls of those who sacrificed their children to him.

Perhaps as a result of that, I became a bit of an insomniac. I certainly came to be annoyed that I would get tired, just as I was annoyed that I experienced pain (and pleasure), and hunger, and other bodily appetites. In sensing that I ate and slept and got sick a lot, it became a source of distress to me when people would comment about my appetites. I came to see them, particularly after being molested, as a way whereby I could be manipulated and controlled; freedom entailed not only being alone, but also not experiencing overpowering desires that would lead me to be manipulated or disgraced.

I didn't, and still don't understand why politicians and other powerful officials don't understand that before the get into affairs and dalliances and other sorts of bad-boy behaviors. Don't they have any self-control?

****

Of course, the situation I come from is one in which my desires are distorted, so I tend to experience terror rather than excitement and interest. From the odd conversations my mother would have with me when I was young, to later when, as I entered adolescence, she took the liberty of buying a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue and offered to buy pornography for me ("you'll probably have friends who'll show it to you, and I'd rather that I have control over it"), to the possessiveness she demonstrated in referring to time together as "dates" and saying things such as, "if you were 20 years older you'd be an ideal man for me," and which culminated in her telling me, when I was 19 that it was a disappointment I was not homosexual because that meant I would "take my sexuality out on women," I wasn't prepared for an integrated experience of sexuality. In compounding that background with subsequent traumatic experiences, I experience a detachment and disinterest that leaves me baffled not only by the antics of people like John Ensign and Anthony Weiner, but also by happily married folks.

That last point is crucial in that it makes apparent a particular question for the Church to address: how do the teachings of the Church on marriage and sexuality apply to people who have been abused? Last summer I was asked to read Heaven's Song: Sexual Love as it was Meant to Be by Christopher West, who is a famous writer and speaker who discusses the "Theology of the Body" teachings of Bl. Pope John Paul II.

My reaction to the book was not a favorable one; I couldn't pinpoint all of my objections at the time, but looking back, I see that the problem I consistently encounter when reading or discussing things pertaining to Theology of the Body is that writers such as Christopher West start from the assumption that one experiences one's desires happily, rather than with a profound sense of dread and remorse. I can intellectually grasp the point, I can comprehend to an extent the spiritual principles (albeit with some great reservations), but to believe it or comprehend it as something helpful in my own life is asking too much; it remains incoherent to someone who is mentally or spiritually ill. In that instance, what in the Theology of the Body, or other teachings, is there to console the brokenhearted and the wounded?

I am inclined to believe that this is an area where St. Bernard's writings have potential. The passage I quoted in the post linked above, as well as his "Sermons on the Psalm 'He Who Dwells'" are a treasure to anyone, and I believe particularly to those who experience fear, or remorse, or the haunting memory of past sins, those of one's own doing, or those committed by others.

St. Anthony Novena

2011-06-10T17:26:00.003-04:00

Several weeks ago I was overcome with sadness about a particular tragedy in my family history. Years before I was born, my great-grandfather shot himself in the chest, and it was one of my aunts who found him. In those days, the Church did not permit suicides to have a funeral, which I believe to be a reason why that side of my family walked away from the Church. Because of the sensitive nature of the events, and the secretive tendencies of my relatives, it's not something I've heard people discuss more than briefly and in passing, so it was a surprise that I found myself thinking so intently about him.

My thoughts turned primarily to the state of his soul. The horrifying possibility that he is damned, i.e., eternally separated from God's love, occurred to me, and caused me to pray for his soul. My own battle with depression and suicidal thoughts was turning toward my ancestor who took his life, and my concern for his soul has in turn helped me to look at my own thinking as well. I started praying this novena to St. Anthony to pray for the soul of the great-grandfather I never knew. I chose St. Anthony, not only because he is the one who finds lost things and people, but also because my great-grandfather's name was Anthony. I started the novena this past Sunday, so that the final day would happen on June 13th, the feast of St. Anthony.

Veni, Sancte Spiritus

2011-06-07T02:26:00.006-04:00

Christ has Ascended to His heavenly throne, and Holy Church sits in eager anticipation of the great Feast of Pentecost, when she marks the outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles in the appearance of flames resting upon their foreheads. As the Apostles spoke in tongues, the people in the streets below overheard the sound and believed them to be drunk; that part of the story was something that struck me from early on in my return to the faith.

As we approach this Pentecost I have been meditating upon the beautiful Sequence Veni, Sancte Spiritus, which you will hear sung before the Gospel lesson on Pentecost Sunday morning. The seventh and eighth verses have always been particularly powerful to me:

Lava quod est sordidum,
riga quod est aridum,
sana quod est saucium.

Flecte quod est rigidum,
fove quod est frigidum,
rege quod est devium.

Wash that which is unclean,
water that which is dry,
heal that which is wounded.

Bend that which is inflexible,
warm that which is chilled,
make right that which is wrong.

The Holy Spirit is called upon to set things right, to console and heal us; He is our Advocate defending us against our Accuser, Satan.

***

Lava quod est sordidum.

The words echo in my heart these days. Amid the depression, insomnia, nightmares, persistent aches and pains, and occasional suicidal thoughts that have dogged me since the time of my departure from New York, I have been confronting more profoundly the memories of sexual abuse and disorder through my childhood, adolescence and early adulthood that have plagued me throughout my life and are finally beginning to be washed clean.

At the beginning of Advent I was anointed by my pastor as part of his healing ministry, and I have experienced a great relief since that time; I have been able to sit still, to face the terrors of the past and to resist the temptations they present. Likewise, I have been going to confession regularly, with the goal of receiving the sacrament on a weekly basis. All of this has served to still the storms and to place my sinfulness in a proper context; though I am wicked, I am neither thoroughly nor irredeemably so, and my reliance on the salvific sacrifice of the Cross is enough to remit the sins that I have committed in the past, in the present, and the ones I will commit in the future.

Among the great doctors of the Church, my friend St. Bernard speaks to my heart when he writes of the memory and the recollection of sin, both of my own sins and of those committed by others against me. In a beautiful analogy, in which he compares the sinner's memory to an ink-stained parchment, St. Bernard writes:

Forgetfulness might perhaps efface the memory if, for example, I were touched in the head and did not remember what I had done. But to leave my memory intact and yet wash away its blotches, what penknife can I use? Only that living and effective word sharper than a two-edged sword: 'Your sins are forgiven you.' Let the Pharisee mutter and say: 'Who can forgive sins but God alone?' To me it is God himself who speaks, and no other can be compared to him. He it was who devised the whole way of discipline and gave it to Jacob his servant and to Israel whom he loved, and afterwards appeared on earth and lived among men. His forbearance wipes away sin, not by cutting it out of the memory, but by leaving in the memory what was there causing discoloration, and blanching it thoroughly. We then remember many sins, which we know to have been committed either by ourselves or by others, but only our own stain us; those of others do us no harm. How is this? Surely it is because we blush only for our own sins, and it is only for these that we fear reproach. Take away damnation, take away fear, take away confusion; full remission takes all of these away, and our sins no longer harm us, but even work together for our good, enabling us to offer devout thanks to him who has remitted them.

Sermon on Conversion, XV, 28.

Perhaps there are other writers who discuss memory, but it seems a rare thing. At times I become frustrated with a simplified, "forgive and forget" attitude that can prevail among well-meaning Christians. As someone who has committed many sins in his past, who lived a dissipated and destructive life for many years, and who has an "impressionistic" memory of some things, while remembering with nearly photographic precision other things, it has never been easy for me simply to pick up and move on as if nothing in the past mattered, now that I have been absolved of those sins.

Frequent and regular confession has helped greatly in this, and it leads me to wonder if greater availability of the sacrament, and more frequent reception of it by the faithful, would help ease and comfort them as it has done for me. As we prepare this week for this great feast of the Spirit, I will go again to atone, and to ask for forgiveness, and ask Him to wash me clean.

Come, Holy Spirit, come!

Freedom in Christ

2011-05-30T19:40:00.000-04:00

Last I wrote here it was in the cold of winter, and now the spring has come again. Most significantly, the Church rejoices in the Resurrection of our LORD Jesus Christ. Christ is risen, alleluia!

My long break from writing has been symptomatic of one of my periodic bouts of depression and reflection that I have been experiencing throughout much of 2011. Additionally, I started a part-time job in February, in which I find myself proofreading Bible settings at the USCCB, which has allowed me not only to support myself, but more importantly, has exposed me to the Scriptures, particularly of the Old Testament, in a more profound way than ever before.

In joyfully embracing the Gospel, it is easy for me, and I suspect for many other Catholics, to overlook the teachings of the Law and the Prophets that were handed down to us through the Jewish people. We get a small overview: the creation story of Genesis, Noah and the flood, the story of Abraham and Isaac, the story of Moses leading the people through the Red Sea, a bit of the story of David the King, and of Elijah the prophet and his protege Elisha; if you are like me, and are devoted to the Liturgy of the Hours, you are familiar with the Psalms; of the prophets, you probably know of Isaiah's prophecies about the Suffering Servant, of Daniel interpreting the dreams of Nebuchadnezzar, of Ezekiel's vision of the Temple. Beyond these basic elements, though, many of us Catholics do not know much about the details of the Law, the long and tumultuous history of the Jewish people to remain faithful to God and His Law through years of corruption, idolatry, war, persecution, exile, return to the Promised Land, and weariness of waiting for the Messiah.

Through all of this, I have attained a deep gratitude and appreciation of the freedom that Christ has given to those who confess His name. In reading the provisions of the Law as set forth in Exodus and Leviticus, one sees precisely how burdensome the Law could be. Every facet of life, from dietary law to liturgical practice, to detailed rules concerning ritual purity, are set forth, and the various types of sacrifices and offerings, serve to remind the Israelites of the importance of living for God alone. In reading about these various sacrifices, I am struck by a) how serious a matter it is to slip into sin, and b) how great a gift Christ has given us in fulfilling the ultimate sacrifice, and in giving us the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

In a complacent and weary age such as our own (one, in fact similar to the one the prophet Malachi complains of, in which the people halfheartedly offer unfit sacrifices and cynically denying God's justice, believing instead that the wicked prosper), it is easy to think of sin as a trivial matter as something presumably covered by God's mercy and therefore of little consequence. And yet, in reading of the elaborate sacrifices of the Old Law, in which the sinner must bring an animal such as a goat to the priest to be sacrificed, I see the great freedom that is given to me in Christ's outpouring of His blood for me, and of His giving me that place of true absolution and forgiveness, the confessional.

It is my hope that other Catholics familiarize themselves with the Law and the Prophets, that they too might come to appreciate the freedom they have unworthily received, and come to share that freedom with all the world.

Pennsylvania: Failure or Logical End?

2011-01-24T03:30:00.000-05:00

As the drama of the Dr. Kermit Gosnell investigation and criminal case unfolds in Philadelphia, the nation (that is to say, the part that is paying attention) recoils in disgust at the pictures and words describing the horrific conditions and practices at Dr. Gosnell's "clinic." People have begun asking the hard questions that should always have been asked, but have not, because we have come to believe the lies perpetuating legal abortion: that it is an inevitable phenomenon, that keeping it legal assures that it will be "safe" and "rare", that it is authentic "women's healthcare", that it is a private matter of no concern to the state.

Who could do such a thing? Why didn't anyone do anything about it? Doesn't the state have regulations about this? Is this the only one?

The answers are simple: a man who kills children for a living did such a thing; the state regulatory agencies and others in the medical profession determined that ensuring the availability of abortion was more important than human dignity; yes, it does; probably not.

What, exactly, is so horrifying about Kermit Gosnell severing the spinal cords of already-delivered babies with a scissors in comparison to dismembering a baby in utero and vacuuming out the pieces? If we are to be honest with ourselves, we have to admit that there really isn't a difference at all; the abortionist's customer, after all, is buying the death of her child. Kermit Gosnell provided that service thousands upon thousands of times, and was compensated quite handsomely for it.

Was it the deaths and permanent injury of his customers? Perhaps, but that, too, is unavailing, when one considers that many post-abortive women, including ones who had "safe" abortions find themselves unable to conceive or carry a child to term as a result of injuries they sustained resulting from their abortions.

Was it the fact that the victims in this case were mostly, as the Grand Jury report notes, poor inner-city minority women? Probably not, as the abortion industry targets poor people, particularly blacks. By way of example, New York City lays claim to several shocking statistics: 41% of pregnancies in the city are aborted, and 60% of black pregnancies end in abortion. The latter number indicates that the eugenic vision of Planned Parenthood foundress Margaret Sanger is being fulfilled.

As Sanger once wrote:

"We don’t want the word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population, and the minister is the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more rebellious members."

If it's not these things, then perhaps it's something else, something that explains why the state would permit this to continue, and why the media are doing their best to avoid having to cover this story. Former Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell unintentionally told the truth in his comments on the case:

"All of those of us who are pro-choice abhor this, because it casts a negative light on that movement. All of us believe abortion should be legal, but that it should be safe. Clearly, what this physician was doing is not safe. It's not safe for the mother. It's certainly not safe for the fetus."

Of course, Governor. I'm glad you cleared that up for us. Here I was thinking one might abhor this because our fellow human beings were found to have been butchered alive, with their pieces kept in bags in the office refrigerator; but no, it's abhorrent because it "casts a negative light on the movement."

Dr. Gosnell's actions reflect poorly on the pro-abortion movement, but his actions are only different by degree, and not kind. Dead babies are dead babies, whether they are killed by Dr. Gosnell or in a clean, state-of-the-art facility. Broken and traumatized women are broken and traumatized women whether they are rendered infertile by Dr. Gosnell or in a clean, state-of-the-art facility.

The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania's actions, too, reflect poorly on the pro-abortion movement, but that shouldn't surprise, either; enforcement of regulations was considered the creation of a barrier to access, ultimately resulting in a situation in which nail salons are more closely regulated than are abortion facilities. But that is by design in a situation where access is the chief concern, and regulation is considered interference in the exercise of a civil right.

And so we're left with this: as long as we as a society tell ourselves that it is acceptable to kill our children as a way of avoiding our responsibility to them, and to their mothers, we will continue to produce men like Kermit Gosnell who are willing to do the job, for a price.

"Pennsylvania is not a third-world country...."

2011-01-21T01:45:00.002-05:00

Earlier this week, the District Attorney in Philadelphia announced that Dr. Kermit Gosnell is facing eight counts of murder charges in connection with the overdose of one of his abortion patients, as well as the killing, with a scissors, of seven babies born alive in his "clinic", which was, in fact, a squalid and unsanitary space filled with the limbs of babies in jars, cat feces, rusty and dirty instruments and furniture. He is also under Federal Grand Jury investigation for illegally prescribing drugs to his patients, most of whom were poor, minority and immigrant women. The adult victim was a recent immigrant and refugee from Bhutan, who died of an overdose of anesthetics.

More appalling than the ghastly practices of Dr. Gosnell and his unlicensed and incompetent staffers are the Grand Jury's findings (PDF at link; extremely graphic content in the document, including photographs) that the Pennsylvania Department of Health, as a matter of policy, looked the other way in the face of abundant information about Dr. Gosnell's practices.

This information is found at Section VI of the report, entitled "How Did This Go On So Long?", and is damning of the state agency charged with oversight of abortion clinics in Pennsylvania:

We discovered that Pennsylvania's Department of Health has deliberately chosen not to enforce laws that should afford patients at abortion clinics the same safeguards and assurances of quality health care as patients of other medical service providers. Even nail salons in Pennsylvania are monitored more closely for client safety.

The State Legislature has charged the Department of Health (DOH) with responsibility for writing and enforcing regulations to protect health and safety in abortion clinics as well as in hospitals and other health care facilities. Yet a significant difference exists between how DOH monitors abortion clinics and how it monitors facilities where other medical procedures are performed.

Indeed, the department has shown an utter disregard both for the safety of women who seek treatment at abortion clinics and for the health of fetuses after they have become viable. State health officials have also shown a disregard for the laws the department is supposed to enforce. Most appalling of all, the Department of Health's neglect of abortion patients' safety and of Pennsylvania laws is clearly not inadvertent: It is by design. (pp. 137-8, italics in original)

Later on in the Grand Jury report, we see what this design entailed:

Under Governor Robert Casey, [DOH official Janice Staloski] said, the [DOH] inspected abortion facilities annually. Yet, when Governor Tom Ridge came in, the attorneys interpreted the same regulations that had permitted annual inspections for years to no longer authorize those inspections. Then, only complaint-driven inspections supposedly were authorized. Stoloski said that DOH's policy during Governor Ridge's administration was motivated by a desire not to be "putting a barrier up to women" seeking abortions.

[DOH official Kenneth] Brody confirmed some of what Staloski told the Grand Jury. He described a meeting of high-level government officials in 1999 at which a decision was made not to accept a recommendation to reinstitute regular inspections of abortion clinics. The reasoning, as Brody recalled, was: "there was a concern that if they did routine inspections, that they may find a lot of these facilities didn't meet [the standards for getting patients out by stretcher or wheelchair in an emergency], and then there would be less abortion facilities, less access to women to have an abortion." (p. 147)

It was not just the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania that failed women treated by Dr. Gosnell:

We learned of at least five of Gosnell's patients who were treated for serious complications at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania (HUP) or Presbyterian Hospital, the two closest emergency rooms to the Women's Medical Society clinic. We heard evidence of many more women, whose names we did not learn, who also had to seek emergency care after undergoing abortions at Gosnell's facility. Yet we received no complication reports when we subpoenaed documents from DOH. (p. 213)

This reporting is required under Pennsylvania law, and yet other doctors neglected to file reports with a state agency that chose to look the other way. The Grand Jury noted this refusal to report Dr. Gosnell:

We are very troubled that almost all of the doctors who treated these women routinely failed to report a fellow physician who was so obviously endangering his patients. We understand that in emergency rooms more than one doctor may treat a patient; it might be unclear who should do the reporting. In that case, the hospital should have an established policy, which HUP apparently did not. One of the HUP doctors told us that a procedure is now in place to assure proper reporting. Among the documents turned over by the attorney for HUP was a memo to HUP personnel reminding them that they are required to report abortion complications and maternal deaths and advising them of the procedure for doing so. The memo was dated September 3, 2010, shortly before the first HUP doctor testified before the Grand jury - and 10 years after the doctors received the same instructions in an earlier memo. (p. 214)

"WHO COULD HAVE PREVENTED ALL THIS DEATH AND DAMAGE?" the report asks. A summary of the failings of state and local officials, as well as other doctors follows, with the Grand Jury answering its plaintive question, "We don't know. We only know what happened when none of these people did what they should have." (p. 217) In the section after the criminal charges are enumerated, the Grand Jury concludes its grim report by noting that "[t]he Department of State literally licensed Gosnell's criminally dangerous behavior. DOH gave its stamp of approval to his facility. These agencies do not deserve the public's trust." (p. 261)

And so we see, in all its gory clarity, the reality of abortion. The state, in a shortsighted effort to ensure access to abortion, deliberately chose not to enforce its own laws, leading one to wonder why those agencies exist at all, if they refuse to do the basic duties for which they exist. "Pennsylvania is not a third-world country," the report states. "That is why the complete regulatory collapse that occurred here is so inexcusable." (p. 8) Doctors from prominent medical institutions like the University of Pennsylvania hospital disregarded their duty to report botched abortions they treated in their emergency room. Lastly, a greedy, malicious, and incompetent hack like Dr. Gosnell and his untrained and unquestioning coterie of assistants chose to prey upon the most unknowing and vulnerable people possible: underage girls, immigrants, poor inner city minorities. "We think the reason no one acted is because the women in question were poor and of color, because the victims were infants without identities, and because the subject was the political football of abortion." (p. 13)

In his harrowing autobiography The Hand of God, the NARAL founder turned pro-life activist and Catholic convert Dr. Bernard Nathanson notes that the practice of abortion naturally draws the greedy, the incompetent, and the wicked. To spend one's medical career killing children rather than healing illness requires a distortion of conscience that often manifests itself in the way abortionists treat their patients; Dr. Nathanson lists many examples of abortion doctors around the country who ran practices as corrupt and deadly as Dr. Gosnell's.

The doctors, yes, but the state, too? Yes, the state, too. Were it not for an intrepid District Attorney, we wouldn't know of this. Intrepid because he, and the Grand Jury who reported to him, has noted that very powerful public officials abetted this man's sociopathy for decades; how far up does this go? I ask prayers for the DA, for his staff, for the jurors and detectives on this case, as they appear to have touched on a corrupt government willing to let a butcher run amok for the sake of political expedience.

For years, we have been told, lied to, by government officials, pundits, and activists that abortion is, or ought to be, a "safe, legal, and rare" procedure. It's a necessary, or, if you will, an inevitable thing, and so we must accept it as a legal practice, that we might not return to the "dark days of back-alley coat-hanger abortions." I recall seeing the quaint little buttons with the red line through the coat hanger; and yet, here we are, witnessing the coat-hanger abortionist, that bogeyman himself, enjoy decades of protection from the law in America's third-ranking state for defense of human life. If it's that bad in Pennsylvania, which is not a third-world country, what is it like in the rest of America?

This Saturday, January 22, marks the 38th anniversary of the ignominious Roe v. Wade decision, which legalized abortion throughout all of America through all nine months of pregnancy. In that time, over 50 million babies have been killed; women have suffered butchery, inconsolable grief, depression, anxiety, infertility; men have suffered loss, guilt, and remorse too, over the children they have never known and often have coerced their girlfriends or wives into aborting. It has become our national disgrace, and as demonstrated in this most extreme of cases, it is one that has corrupted not just relations between men and women, parents and children, doctors and patients, but also between man and the state.

It has brought us brutal and ghastly lawlessness, and if there is any justice at all, we will look at the cold, hard facts in a Grand Jury's report out of Pennsylvania, and seeing that Pennsylvania is not a third-world country, we will say, "enough. Things cannot go on this way any longer."

House Fire in Hyattsville

2011-01-20T18:51:00.003-05:00

Yesterday morning around 4 a.m., I awoke to the sounds of yelling in the street and sirens; when I looked out my window, I saw that a house across the street and down the block from mine was on fire. I was incredibly saddened to learn that the family inside lost their 9-year-old daughter to injuries in the blaze, and that another of their daughters was critically injured. The cause of the fire is still being investigated, although the firefighters have said the cause was accidental.

I have been adding the family to my prayers, and my housemates and I are planning on putting together an offering for them. Please pray for the Hernandez family, and for our neighborhood.

Settling In

2011-01-20T17:08:00.002-05:00

After spending two months in the upstairs of D.'s house, I have found a viable long-term housing solution. I am, for the first time in my life, living in a communal situation, in a household of Catholic men who are graduate students and young professionals. A unique thing about the Washington, D.C. area is the number of Catholic households one finds around the city, both on the Maryland and the Virginia sides.

New York was a place where people seemed to live alone for the most part, or else they had roommates of convenience rather than of affection or affiliation. Here, many people stay in housing situations longer, particularly while they are in school, and so they are more likely to build communities of like-minded friends and housemates than the transient population of New York City tends to do.

So, here I am: I am now in a room in a Victorian house in the historic district of Hyattsville, about 1/2 mile from D.'s house, with four housemates. I'm enjoying getting to know them, and appreciative of the presence of others in the house after years of living alone, despite my generally solitary nature. My art is on the walls, and my blogging station is set up, from which I'll be able to write frequent posts when the spirit moves me.

In Memoriam: Richard John Neuhaus

2011-01-08T00:30:00.002-05:00

Two years ago today, January 8, 2009, Fr. Richard John Neuhaus passed away. He was, in a sense, a "spiritual grandfather" to me, in that, though we did not have the pleasure of meeting in this life, he was a great friend and influence on some of the most important people in my own development, particularly the Polish Dominican friars at my old church in New York.

Last year, on the first anniversary of his death, my choir was privileged to sing Richafort's Requiem at a memorial Mass in St. Patrick's Cathedral; this year, the choir will once again sing for a memorial Mass, this time at the Church of Our Saviour on Park Avenue. It was there, and at his memorial service the year before, that I came to see how broad his influence was; here in D.C., I have met numerous people who were likewise moved by his profound love of God and his brilliant writing and preaching.

In that vein, it was a pleasant surprise for me to come across the page of Fr. Neuhaus's homilies to Columbia students on the Columbia website last summer; I recommend that you give a listen and hear not only his great wisdom and insight, but also his marvelous speaking voice and cadences. His Lutheran homiletic training served him well and was a great gift to all who heard him. I particularly recommend this sermon on temptation and this one on identity.

Listen, and enjoy, and become acquainted with the brilliant mind and faith-filled heart of one of America's great public theologians.

2011 Prayer Intention 7: Fulfillment of the Jewish People in Christ

2011-01-07T00:30:00.000-05:00

Several times during my youth, I recall hearing unsubstantiated beliefs among some of my mother's relatives that somewhere in their ancestry was a Jewish heritage. I've never done any genealogical research to substantiate that conjecture, but have come to appreciate the profound longing for the Messiah that is expressed throughout the Prophecies and the Psalms, in particular, and, likewise, my favorite part of the Easter vigil was the reading of the story from Exodus, in which the LORD leads the Israelites out of Egypt through the Red Sea.

Many years, later, subsequent to my return to the Church, I came across the excellent book Salvation is From the Jews, by Roy Schoeman, who became Catholic as an adult after years of learning deeply about his own Judaism. I recommend the book to Catholics and Jews alike as an excellent resource for learning about the Jewish roots of Catholicism, and the experience that Schoeman describes as "fulfillment" rather than "conversion."

I became interested in learning about other Jewish people who found their fulfillment in Christ, and learned about such people as Eugenio Zolli, who had been the Chief Rabbi of Rome, Hermann Cohen, and Alphonse Ratisbonne, whose fulfillment was brought about through the Miraculous Medal.

In addition to these historical figures, I met and became dear friends with several Jewish converts to Catholicism, including the woman who encouraged me to start blogging and writing, Dawn Eden, and in adopting a consistent prayer life based on the Psalms, I am living out a prayer tradition that goes back to the Jewish forebears of the Church. In praying the Psalms, the Christian prays the words that consoled the Jewish people as they awaited the coming of the Messiah, and now, as we await His return in glory.

It is in deep love and affection, then, that I pray for the fulfillment of the Jewish people in Christ, through the intercession of King David (whose feast occurs on December 29 in the Roman calendar), whom tradition recognizes to be author of the Psalms. David, despite his many sins and failings, profoundly loved the LORD, repented, and ultimately established the line through which Jesus was born, and so it is through him that I ask that all the Jewish people might come to know and love Jesus.

This is my intention for Friday, the day of the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary.

King David, ora pro nobis!

2011 Prayer Intention 6: Prayers for Public Officials

2011-01-06T00:30:00.001-05:00

Saint Louis, King of France, with a Page, El Greco

I was struck recently by the phrasing of the intercessions at Mass, in which we were asked to pray for our elected officials, and realized that I needed to add an intention for all people serving in the public trust, whether elected, appointed, or as personnel. Certainly our President, Representatives, Senators, and state and local elected leaders need our prayers and a conversion of heart to follow God's will, but we also need our appointed judges, cabinet members, and employees of executive branch agencies and legislative staffs also to seek after virtue and holiness.

For my sixth intention then, on Thursdays in 2011, the day of the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary, I ask the prayers of the great and holy King Saint Louis to guide and enlighten the hearts of all public officials, elected and appointed, and cause them to reject murder, depravity, avarice, and envy, and replace them with the virtues of faith, hope, and charity.

St. Louis IX of France serves as an ideal model for any leader: he was a man of justice and charity, of strong faith, a husband, father, monarch, and Franciscan tertiary.

St. Louis, ora pro nobis!

2011 Prayer Intention 5: Canonization of the 'Grunt Padre'

2011-01-05T00:30:00.002-05:00

Prayer for the Canonization of the Servant of God Father Vincent Capodanno

Heavenly Father, source of all that is holy, in every age you raise up men and women who live lives of heroic love and service. You have blessed your Church through the life of Vincent Capodanno, Vietnam War Navy chaplain, who had the “courage of a lion, and the faith of a martyr.” He was killed in action offering medical assistance to the wounded and administering last rites to the dying on the battlefield. Through his prayer, his courage, his faith, and his pastoral care he is an example of laying down one’s life for one’s friends: Jesus told us that there is no greater love than this. If it be your will, may he be proclaimed a saint! We ask this through Jesus Christ, Our Lord. Amen.

***

Fr. Vincent Capodanno was a Navy Chaplain who was killed in action in Vietnam while tending to the spiritual and corporal needs of his Marines, for which he was posthumously awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor on January 7, 1969. In selflessly tending to his Marines, he displayed love of neighbor not only in this life, but for all eternity. On this day of the Glorious Mysteries, I ask that his prayers strengthen the hearts of our military chaplains, and that they convey the souls of all our departed servicemen and women to the joy of the Resurrection.

Fr. Vincent Capodanno, ora pro nobis!

2011 Prayer Intention 4: Return of the Anglicans

2011-01-04T00:30:00.001-05:00

Subsequent to writing out my intentions for Tuesday, but before praying them for the first time, I awoke on New Year's Day to great joy when seeing the news out of England that three former Anglican bishops were received into Our Holy Mother the Church to begin the New Year.

Just as I prayed last year for the reunification of the Lutheran people with the Church, so this year I turn my attention to the Anglican communion, and call upon the recently beatified John Henry Newman to pray for this intention. More specifically, I petition him for a conversion of Queen Elizabeth II, that once again we might rejoice to have a Catholic monarch in England.

I believe, as Fr. Z. does, that Pope Benedict XVI is the Pope of Christian Unity, and I hope that we will see a continued influx of Anglicans and people of other communions, other faiths or no faith at all come into the Church; I believe that Summorum Pontificum is an amazing document that will bear much fruit in the coming years.

I offer this intention on Tuesday, the day of the Sorrowful Mysteries, to acknowledge the rupture in communion that I hope will be repaired. With the prayers of Bl. John Henry Newman, may we see a renewal of Faith in the English people and a reunification of them with the Church.

Bl. John Henry Newman, ora pro nobis!

2011 Prayer Intention 3: Discernment in Relationship

2011-01-03T00:30:00.000-05:00

Now that D. & I are in the same city, and the truncated visits and harried intercity travel schedules are in the past, we have begun to turn more of our attention to discerning the nature and direction of our relationship with each other and with God. Last year, I put this discernment under the prayerful intercession of Bl. Louis and Zelie Martin, the parents of St. Therese.

This time around, I reflected on the fact that on our first date, D. & I visited the St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Shrine in Lower Manhattan, where we stopped to say some prayers in front of the tabernacle and to spend a few moments in the silence of the empty church. St. Elizabeth Ann Seton is the first American-born canonized saint, who was in turn an Episcopalian convert to Catholicism, a wife, mother, widow, and foundress of the Sisters of Charity; she was a daughter of New York City who moved to Maryland, where she founded her order.

I have come to greatly appreciate St. Elizabeth Ann since that first visit to her shrine, and so it seemed natural to ask her intercession in our discernment process, as we seek God's will in how best to live out our call to holiness. I have dedicated Monday to this intention, to correspond to the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary.

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, ora pro nobis!

'So that people might seek God.'

2011-01-02T17:58:00.004-05:00

Vidimus stellam, a hand-drawn/watercolored card depicting communion antiphon for Epiphany that I made for a friend in 2009

Today the Church celebrates (in the Novus Ordo) the Solemnity of the Epiphany of the LORD, in which she commemorates the adoration of Jesus by the Magi, as described in Matthew 2. I will note, but try not to dwell on the celebration of the feast, not on January 6 ("Twelfth Night"), but instead on the Sunday between January 2 and January 8. This year, the Sunday falls on January 2, making this a very truncated Christmas season indeed. In the traditional calendar, Epiphany is still celebrated on January 6, so if you have a Mass in the Extraordinary Form nearby, you can assist at Mass on the 6th.

I wish to briefly reflect instead on the amazement that God reveals himself to us in terms that we can understand. The Magi, learned Gentile astrologers, had, through their studies of the heavens, known to expect the rise of a great King, but they did not have Prophecy and the Law to guide them. Nonetheless, despite their not being from among God's chosen, they, like the Athenians who worshiped an unknown God, desired to seek Him and were able to find him through their own science. When they found Him, they fell down before Him in worship and adoration.

So why did God call the Magi? What is the Epiphany? Not only have they come that they might be the first Gentiles to worship and adore Christ, but, almost paradoxically, they are, without their knowledge, part of the prophecies themselves. Today's Old Testament reading from Isaiah 60, and today's Responsorial Psalm, from Psalm 72, speak of the kings of faraway lands coming with tribute to worship at the feet of the Messiah. They are called so that God's chosen people, Israel, might know that their Messiah has been born, that their salvation is at hand.

What does this mean for us? We can look with confidence at the star, and follow it, even if we do not know what will be at our destination, because ultimately, God is calling us to Himself. Just as the Law and Prophets are fulfilled in Jesus, so also are the things of divination, fortune-telling, astrology, and other such practices replaced by the Truth of Christ Jesus.

Today, Jew and Gentile alike can look upon the Infant Jesus and say, "The old has passed away; behold, the new has come" (2 Cor. 5:17).

2011 Prayer Intention 2: Gainful and Meaningful Employment for Unemployed

2011-01-02T00:30:00.000-05:00

Although we ask the LORD to "give us this day our daily bread" every time we pray the words He taught us, it is tempting to think our concerns too small or insignificant for His attention. When surveying the state of the world, with its wars and hardships, one is tempted to set aside personal concerns as trivial, while at the same time to overlook expressing gratitude for the good things in one's life.

I have been experiencing that lately, in the time since I relocated from New York. My search for work has been unsuccessful and somewhat discouraging thus far, as I know it is for the many unemployed family and friends that I know and love. I simply do not recall a time like this in my life; when I left New York, I saw vacant storefronts and office spaces in prime locations, and had numerous friends get laid off jobs or have hours cut back. I have relatives who have been unemployed now for going on two years or more, and I have met friends since relocating who are in similar situations.

In the face of the joblessness and worry, it is hard to keep trusting in God's providence and love; I have become lax in my prayer routines at times, as well as generally sluggish and a bit lazy. On one occasion I was so frustrated and disoriented that the only thing I knew to do was to go to the National Shrine to confession and then to sit in the Miraculous Medal chapel (my favorite place in that large and magnificent building) for a few minutes of quiet prayer.

In the face of the anxiety and frustration of unemployment, I have decided to make my Sunday prayer intention one asking for gainful and meaningful employment for myself and all unemployed persons, particularly those among my family and friends, through the intercession of St. Joseph the Workman.

I chose this intention for Sunday because it corresponds to the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary, particularly to the Descent of the Holy Spirit, when the Apostles received their new mission in life, which sent them out to the ends of the Earth to preach the Gospel.

2011 Prayer Intention 1: Conversion of Germany & Japan

2011-01-01T17:37:00.003-05:00

Last year, I initiated for myself a practice of daily prayer intentions that I used throughout the year when reading the Liturgy of the Hours and at Mass, and found it a spiritually enriching practice, and one that has borne fruit.

My prayers for Lutheran reunification with the Church started to show promise, for example.

This year, I turn my attentions on Saturday to the renewal of faith and the conversion of the German and Japanese people. This disheartening story about the continued population decrease in Japan points to the necessity of a vigorous embrace of the Christian faith, and a turn away from materialism and despair. Likewise, Chancellor Angela Merkel commented last year that "multiculturalism has 'utterly failed'" in Germany, indicating that a renewed embrace of Christianity is required there and across Europe.

For this intention, I call upon the prayers of an incredible man, Fr. Gereon Goldmann, a German Franciscan friar who was conscripted into the Nazi SS during the Second World War and was subsequently kicked out for anti-Nazi activities. He was eventually taken prisoner by the British after the battle of Monte Cassino, in Italy, and, while imprisoned in a French POW camp, he was ordained to the priesthood. After the war, his lifelong dream of being a missionary to Japan was fulfilled when he went to Tokyo to help the many poor people of that city, for which he was awarded the "Order of Good Deeds" by Emperor Hirohito in 1965. Fr. Goldmann returned to Germany in 1994 and died there on July 26, 2003. His amazing life story can be found here.

Fr. Gereon Goldmann, ora pro nobis!

UPDATE: I forgot to mention that I chose this intention for Saturday, as it corresponds to the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary, in which we contemplate God's coming into a dark and ruined world in the person of Jesus.

Patron Saint of 2011

2011-01-01T16:53:00.003-05:00

Happy and Blessed New Year to everyone! Today is the Octave of the Nativity of Our LORD and Savior, Jesus Christ, and the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God.

Rather than making New Year's Resolutions that will promptly be ignored, I have given thought to this year's prayer intentions, as well as to adopt the practice of selecting a patron saint of the year for the first time. Through the miracles of Facebook, I found Jennifer Fulwiler's Saint's Name Generator and was given St. Vincent Ferrer, the great saint of the Order of Preachers and "Angel of the Apocalypse" for his preaching on the Final Judgment.

He lived through the terrible events of the 14th Century, among which were the Hundred Years' War, plagues, the Western Schism (which saw divisions in the Church between followers of the Avignon antipopes and the Roman popes). Likewise, he was a tireless evangelist to the Jews and Muslims of Spain, bringing about many conversions to Christ. In light of this background of patient and courageous testimony in an era of great anxiety and fear, he is an ideal saint for today, a period in which grave economic hardship, persecution of Christians by violent jihadists and secular relativists alike, divisions in the Church, international instability, and a host of other worries confront people all over the world. I ask St. Vincent, the patron saint of builders, to rebuild a solid and unified Church, one to confront the sorrows and anxieties of the day and to bring about the conversion and salvation of many peoples the world over.

To him is dedicated what I believe to be the most beautiful church in Manhattan, where I made a tradition of going to Mass on my birthday, and where I briefly considered becoming a Dominican Tertiary, only to discern later that I am more at home in Benedictine spirituality.

If there is any resolution to come out of this, it is to call upon St. Vincent Ferrer in a special way in my daily prayers, as well as to learn more about his life. I purchased this book about him, which I anticipate will enlighten me more about his miraculous and holy life.

St. Vincent, ora pro nobis!

Maryland, My Maryland

2010-11-17T18:11:00.002-05:00

It's been so long since I wrote anything here that it seems almost pointless to try catching up at this point. It was spring last I wrote here: Easter culminated in a flurry of choral singing all around New York, and I found myself visiting the D.C. area more and more often to be near my beloved.

After a year and a half of hurried weekend visits, marked by rushing to buses on Friday evenings and Sunday nights, I saw that it was time for me to pack up my comfortable but solitary New York life and move south. I left the job that afforded me that comfortable life at the end of August, saying friendly goodbyes to colleagues, and lived out the remaining two months of my lease as an unemployed resident of Queens.

Those final two months of life in New York were sunny and lazy, in which I traveled back-and-forth between there and D.C. at leisure, slept in late, went to Mass often, and spent much of my time in my neighborhood cafe in Queens. I realized then that the slower and quieter pace of life in Queens was much more to my liking than the noise and hurry of Manhattan.

At the end of October, I packed up my belongings, hosted a farewell party in my beloved apartment, and left town on a sunny and warm Saturday afternoon with my girl. At her suggestion, we blessed each door and window in the place with holy water and said the doxology, and I wept when I locked the door for the last time and wiped the Magi's initials off. We hopped in her car and rode down together, while my movers took my possessions to a storage locker.

And now, I'm a bit of a displaced person, living in her attic while I seek suitable work and suitable housing, and happy that we're no longer saying goodbye every weekend.

Happy Ascension!

2010-05-13T11:30:00.002-04:00

As is my wont, I disappeared from blogging during the final weeks of Lent, and in the ensuing celebration of Our Lord's resurrection from the dead, I have continued my hiatus.

Today is Solemnity of the Lord's Ascension into Heaven. I am too lazy to write something from here at work but wanted to re-post this piece I wrote a couple of years back, if for no other reason than for the picture of the depiction of the Ascension in Notre Dame de Chartres, with the feet of Our Lord whimsically protruding from the underside of the clouds, and the Apostles gazing up at Him in wonder.

"Fear the Boom and Bust"

2010-03-12T00:57:00.004-05:00

Not since Jeff posited a hip-hop version of the Solvay conference, with Einstein and Bohr as star MC's a la LL Cool J and Kool Moe Dee, have hip-hop and nerdy academic concepts crossed so magnificently.

Behold, the best, most informative rap anthem you'll ever encounter on the topic of macroeconomics, with the battle being waged by John Maynard Keynes and F. A. Hayek.

Faulte d'Argent: Day 13 - Penance for Radicals

2010-03-01T21:24:00.007-05:00

It's not something I've thought about much one way or the other, but my friends find my consumption of powdered milk to be a particularly radical aspect of my Lenten discipline.

"It's an embrace of poverty," Drusilla said, after meeting me at the bank where we took care of my rent for this month. I paid my rent, as I had intended, knowing that my landlord would be unlikely to accept "Jesus told me not to spend money" as adequate reason for non-payment; additionally, this penance was never intended as an excuse to avoid my obligations. The money owed my landlord and my creditors is their money, not mine.

"Well, it tastes like the box it came in," I said jokingly, "but I needed to do something." Though it does taste like plastic or cardboard. It's somehow not like the real thing, certainly, but it seemed like a good choice when considering cost, storage space, and the fact that I would need it throughout the entire forty days. I needed something cheap, lightweight, easy-to-store, and with a long shelf life, so it simply seemed obvious that powdered milk would be the thing to buy.

Later, it occurred to me that perhaps these might be the same considerations that the poor make when they buy food for themselves. My intent was a display of solidarity with the poor, as well as a rejection of the mindless consumption I had grown accustomed to.

Thus far, one of the major changes I've noticed is a feeling of rawness and an ongoing tiredness; my inability to slavishly satisfy my impulses has made me more direct than I am accustomed to being. I am more passionate, less willing to engage in idle chat, but also more open to others. My desire to be purified of my distractions and vices is increased, as is my desire to share the Gospel and to learn how to love. I want to burn like a torch - that is the phrase that keeps coming to me when I pray and I'm not quite sure yet what it means, but it's what I want.

After writing recently about suicide and also reading Pentimento's piece on depression, I realized that I was always worst off not when I was in pain, but rather when I was numb. I certainly don't seek pain, but rather I have come to accept it as a normal state of my human condition; it's an inevitable result of being in exile from God, from my natural state of dignity for which I was created and which was lost when sin, death, and pain entered the world as a result of the Fall. Numbness, however, is catastrophic; it separates me from my fellows, it separates me from myself, insofar as in a state of numbness I am mere, fugitive intellect, cut off from memory, from passion, from body. Indifference is the result of this, and from there, death follows.

Mindless consumption has made me numb and dull of mind, I've realized; by removing it for this period of time, I have been more attuned to my surroundings, to my passions, to God's voice, and to my profound reliance upon and love for my friends. I miss D. even more than I usually do.

Lastly, and I don't know quite how to fit it in, but it struck me today that evil is only powerful insofar as we cooperate with it. By distracting myself from prayer, from the plight of the poor and downtrodden, by indiscriminately squandering my earnings, I am, ultimately, cooperating with evil. It is my hope that, going forward, I will learn to be conscientious in my spending, that I will carry with me from this time a sense of self-control and awareness of where and on what I spend my money, and that I carry with me a spirit of poverty and openness to God.

Faulte d'Argent: Day 11 - Simple Pleasures

2010-02-28T01:59:00.003-05:00

I had my first guest over on Saturday.

She came because she had offered to take me to the barber for a Lenten haircut, as I was unable to tend to that before Ash Wednesday. To have a friend not only offer material assistance, but to come all the way to my house from the Bronx was especially thoughtful; one of the great blessings of this time has been the warm and enthusiastic support of generous and loving friends.

I don't have guests come over as much as I would like, so having a friend over for a cup of coffee and some conversation was truly a pleasure; one of my hopes for this time is that, rather than going out with my friends to places in public, I will instead have them visit me at my apartment. I live in a comfortable place that is well-decorated and furnished, with a view of the Manhattan skyline from the living room and a pleasing collection of artwork, much of which was created by friends of mine; more recently, I have added a home altar that I use to say my prayers. Often, though, my place doesn't feel like home, because there aren't visitors to welcome in.

After our visit, we headed in to Manhattan, as she was going to her Bible study, and I went to sing at a Lenten prayer vigil at my church. It was there that I had an unexpectedly pleasant surprise: during a fellowship break in the basement of the church, I had two glasses of milk and a handful of chocolate chip cookies.

I've been drinking about one glass of powdered milk a day since Lent started, and I am just now getting used to the unusual taste of it, so to have two glasses of fresh, cold milk was a special pleasure, as were the cookies.

"Wow!" I exclaimed when I took the first rich and frosty sip. I was surprised at how good it tasted, and at my surprise, and at how much I take these things for granted in quick succession: it was a chain reaction of wonderment, set off by a sip of milk in the basement of a church.

"Dark Waters Are Easy to Drown In"

2010-02-26T22:20:00.004-05:00

You might have decided your fellow men are rotten to the core, and you’re weary of their company. Listen to the music of Mozart, or look upon the work of Michelangelo, and consider the argument of those who profoundly disagree. Maybe part of your problem is that you’ve been listening to the wrong music, or looking at the wrong pictures. Dark waters are easy to drown in. The judgment of the human race will not lack witnesses for the defense, and they will make their case to you, if you give them a chance.

My favorite writer in the HotAir Greenroom, Doctor Zero, writes beautifully of depression and suicide. I was particularly struck by his mention of Mozart.

Some time in early 2001, perhaps it was, I stood on the edge of a subway platform, seriously considering jumping in front of the next train to pull into the station. I had not written a note or made a plan, but a darkness hung over me and seemed determined to push me off a train platform. There were times when I put my arms around the metal pillars in the station to keep myself from jumping.

Finally, the day that I almost ended it all, I had a vision of sort: as if watching a time-lapse film reel, I had a near instantaneous memory of my life. I saw episodes from my childhood, from school, faces of family and friends. I heard music. I don't remember much of the content of the vision, but the things I distinctly remember were the realization that I would never hear Mozart again, that I wouldn't get to see a jazz-singer friend of mine perform anymore, and I wouldn't get to hear a Minnesota friend (who had a thick Minnesota accent) speak ever again. Overcome with sadness, I stepped back as the train pulled into the station.

****

Shortly thereafter, I started seeing a therapist and her psychiatrist husband; I took antidepressants for a while, for about four years. I continued to see the therapist up until the present time; she's seen me through tremendous changes over the years. I was a depressed and hopeless alcoholic when we met, and now I am sober and filled with hope.

This past week we met and realized that our work is nearing completion, and so we discussed meeting perhaps only another two or three times over the next couple of months. And that will be it.

It's a little strange to think about, because the patient-therapist relationship is intimate, yet professional, personal but limited. It's not a friendship. It's not meant to last forever, because you go there not for friendship, or conversation, or absolution, but to have a trained professional help you make sense of the mess, to sort through the chaos with you and help you accept it and recover from it.

But when you've sorted things out, when you're lying there on the couch and you realize you're happy, that life is rich and meaningful and cause for joy, you realize that you don't have anything to talk about anymore. And so we'll move on.

****

I mentioned Mozart, as did Doctor Zero. Mozart and Bach - I listened to them constantly during the darkest of times. Mozart's "Coronation Mass" and piano sonatas, Bach's "Magnificat", and Haydn's "Missa in Tempore Belli" helped keep me alive. R., my therapist helped me through as well. Ultimately, they all pointed me to God, who saved me from loneliness, desolation, and perdition.

Everything has changed, everything has been made new.

Magnificat - J.S. Bach

Faulte d'Argent: Day 9 - Catching up

2010-02-25T20:50:00.002-05:00

I had a choir rehearsal last evening, and by the time I got home it was too late to write anything. I haven't done much writing over the past couple of days because it seems like there isn't much to say - the immediacy of life has presented itself to me this week.

As is often the case in times of fasting and penance for me, I am more quiet than usual, and I am frequently tired. I enjoying being close to home and in the quiet, reading a bit or simply sitting down and listening to soft music. As is often the case when I'm like this, I suspect that bigger things are going on within, and that time will reveal them to me.

Until then, I must quietly and patiently wait....

Faulte d'Argent: Day 7 - Signals

2010-02-24T00:02:00.002-05:00

I awoke today with a headache and was tired, so I called in to work and slept much of the day. I'm learning to pay attention to my body, to recognize my limitations and needs, something I've tended, in the past, to ignore.

Faulte d'Argent: Day 6 - Mode VI

2010-02-22T23:31:00.006-05:00

Laeta dies magni ducis - Sequence for Feast of St. Benedict, July 11

D. recently gave me a recording of the monks of Fontgombault Abbey, of the Benedictine Congregation of Solesmes, which contains a recording of this beautiful sequence; upon listening to it yesterday afternoon I was transfixed, almost to the point of tears.

When looking over the chant, and numerous others that are particularly powerful to me, I realized that they are all in the sixth mode, in which the final note is a "F" with the tenor, or dominant tone, on "A", a major third above. One striking example to me is from my favorite setting of the ordinary of the Mass, the Agnus Dei from the Missa l'Homme Arme Sexti Toni by my favorite Renaissance composer, Josquin des Prez:

It was interesting to me that the chants I find most moving would all have the same tonality; upon further exploration, I came across discussion of the classical temperaments, in which it is noted that the sixth mode is known as the "Weeping Mode" for inducing feelings of sadness and piety in persons of sanguine temperament, which I indeed have.

I am not sure how much stock to place in these things, but I found it interesting that our classical and medieval forebears recognized the profound emotional effects that music can have on people, and that they seem to have observed it having different effects on people based on their personalities. So, what I'd like to know is, what are pieces that are particularly moving to you, and how do they correspond with your temperament? I am particularly interested in hearing what Pentimento thinks of all this, after reading how she has strong emotional reactions to music as I do.

UPDATE: I forgot to include the text to the sequence, so here goes, courtesy of the Order of St. Benedict:

Laeta dies magni ducis,
Dona ferens novae lucis,
Hodie recolitur.

Charis datur piae menti,
Corde sone in ardenti
Quidquid foris promitur.

Hunc per callem Orientis
Admiremur ascendentis
Patriarchae speciem.

Amplum semen magnae prolis
Illum fecit instar solis,
Abrahae persimilem.

Corvum cernis ministrantem,
Hinc Eliam latitantem
Specu nosce parvulo.

Elisaeus dignoscatur,
Cum securis revocatur
De torrentis alveo.

Illum Ioseph candor morum,
Illum Iacob futurorum
Mens effecit conscia.

Ipse memor suae gentis,
Nos perducat in manentis
Semper Christi gaudia. Amen.

Joyful day of our leader,
that brings the gift of a new light,
we commemorate you today.

Grace is given the loving soul,
may our ardent heart be united
to the songs of our lips.

By the radiant way going up to the east,
let us admire our Father rising to heaven,
equal to the patriarchs.

His innumerable posterity,
figure of the sun,
made him like to Abraham.

See the crow serving him
and recognize hence Elias
hiding in a little cave.

Recognize Eliseus,
when he bids return
the axe from beneath the current.

It is Joseph through his life without stain;
it is Jacob bringing
future things to mind.

May he be mindful of his people,
and may he lead us till we behold with him
the eternal joys of Christ. Amen.

Faulte d'Argent: Sunday 1 - Arrows

2010-02-21T22:25:00.002-05:00

Peccata mea sicut sagittae infixa sunt mihi:
sed antequam generent in me,
sana me Domine medicamento poenitentiae.
Quoniam contubata sunt ossa mea:
miserere mei et salva me, Domine. - Responsory from the Office of the Dead

My sins are fixed in me like arrows,
but before they bear fruit in me,
heal me, O God, with the medicine of repentance.
For my very bones are disturbed:
have mercy on me and save me, O Lord.

The choir sang Nicolas Gombert's setting of this powerful text this morning as the motet at Offertory this morning at Mass for the first Sunday in Lent. It is crucial to note which preposition is used; Sundays, even during Lent, are "in" but not "of" Lent. Even in a time of penance, we celebrate Sunday, though the "Gloria" and "Alleluia" are not to be heard again until the Paschal Vigil. Though some Catholics break their Lenten fasts on Sundays, I have made provision to keep my discipline throughout, as has a friend who has given up eating his beloved cheese.

I focused on the sung text as a starting point to this post because it fits nicely with my experience this weekend with distraction and lapsing into old habits of complacency. Despite my intentions and best efforts and desires to do otherwise, my sins are fixed in me like arrows; much of the time I don't notice this, because my daily routine ordinarily incorporates and accommodates this laxity. An abrupt change of practice, however, exposes what was once hidden; the medicine of repentance can work, now that I am placed in a position to be treated.

****

Today's homily focused on living in a world of temptation, of being in a fallen place where in exile, in a land where the devil is at war with us. And yet, Our Savior has come, not at the head of a vast army but alone, as a baby to be raised in a family, to become a man, to go out by himself in the desert to be tempted, to come back and eventually to be put to death violently on the Cross for the forgiveness of our sins, only to be raised from the dead and to ascend into Heaven.

****

I am taking the medicine of repentance, to clarify the soul, to purify the mind, to focus the will and the intellect toward doing God's will, to make way for that which is good while rejecting that which is bad; already I stand in wonder as I contemplate the love and kindness I have received from friends and strangers alike. Hospitality, invitations to participate in prayer groups, liturgies, social gatherings, offers of assistance and gifts of foods and books; none of these were things I asked for, and yet they have been forthcoming.

"I don't deserve this," I say.

"No, you don't, but I'm giving this to you anyway, because I love you."

Thank you.

Faulte d'Argent: Day 4 - Time is money

2010-02-21T00:07:00.002-05:00

Though I have taken on a penance of not wasting money, I apparently have not let that spirit carry over into my use of time. I had made an empty promise to tidy up my apartment today, but elected to waste time surfing the net and, well, not doing much of anything. The fact that it pains me is a sign, however, that I have attained a level of awareness of the problem that I did not previously have; I didn't do anything particularly unusual for me today, so the fact that I see acutely how difficult this is for me is a sign to begin amending my careless use of time.

This temporal ordering is part of the reason why I like the discipline of reading the Office each day; though I don't read the prayers at exactly the same time every day, the overall consistency provides a structure on which to hang the rest of the day: my work and my more worldly concerns, which in turn tends to sanctify those other parts of the day.

When those other aspects of the day, work and social matters, are not present, it is easy for me to fall back into myself and the immediate, and therefore lose sight of the eternal.

Fortunately, I did emerge from my distracted fog in order to say Vespers and to prepare myself a simple Lenten supper. Again I lit the candle and said the blessing, and made sure to treat myself hospitably.

Faulte d'Argent: Day 3 - Risk

2010-02-19T23:58:00.004-05:00

Once, early on in college, when I lived away from home in a somewhat economically depressed town, my money ran out in the springtime, about 6 weeks before the end of the school year. I was able to pay my rent, but didn't have any left over; the phone got cut off, and I ended up eating a bowl of Cream of Wheat once every other day. I lost about twenty pounds.

At that time, it simply didn't occur to me to call home and ask for help from my family, or to ask for help from friends at school. I was at a point in my life where I assumed that, because I was over 18 years old, that I was solely responsible for looking out for my well-being, and that if I couldn't take care of myself, that was my own problem. In other words, asking for help was more hazardous than eating once every other day.

The risk - of what, I didn't know: embarrassment, admission of failure, loss of face, fear of dependence - was so great that silently accepting hunger, weight loss, and weakness seemed easier to accept.

This impulse remains strong in me to this day, though I have tempered it considerably over the years. Getting and staying sober has been an ongoing lesson in recognizing my total inability to help myself, and my absolute need to rely upon Providence. "Powerlessness" is the famous word that Bill Wilson and Bob Smith use, very likely derived from the Apostle Paul in his boast of weakness, that the power of Christ may rest upon him (2 Cor. 12:9).

I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax, it is melted within my breast, sings the Psalmist, sings Christ (when from the Cross he cries out in a loud voice, "my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"), sing we the Church. I am poured out like water, not because I must be eradicated, no, but because I must be made receptive to God's love, I must, like a broken limb that has healed itself in a crooked and painful fashion, be broken again and reset. I must be emptied so that I might receive God, who will make me as I was made to be but am not.

D. recently used the analogy of dredging a pond to describe penance. As a pond fills with silt and debris, it becomes less and less hospitable to life, and becomes less and less of a pond; in order to restore it, it must be dredged of the waste and silt that are choking it. From the nearby road, the exterior view, the pond doesn't look much different before and after the dredging; the water level is the same but the pond is hospitable to life afterward in a way that it is not beforehand.

So too with penance, with confession, with the time in the desert. We seek not to radically change appearances, to let the world know that we are undergoing a dredging operation, but rather to let it be worked in us quietly and without vanity, that God might enter in and quietly infuse us with His spirit.

It is to open oneself up to the risk of allowing Him to change us, the risk of being helpless, the risk of having to rely upon His love, rather than upon our own meager resources.

Faulte d'Argent: Day 2 - Moderation

2010-02-19T00:59:00.002-05:00

Like a dog, I tend to eat whatever quantity of food is placed before me. Frankly, it's an unconscious thing, but nonetheless, I lack self-discipline when it comes to eating. Part of the excitement of this Lenten discipline is the awareness I am attaining in the course of planning the next seven weeks; there is little room for thinking in terms of instant gratification.

As I prepared last evening's supper, I noticed myself, for the first time in memory, measuring and counting with the long-term in mind. For the sake of easy arithmetic, I did what I could to buy things in sevens (for the weeks of Lent) or forties (for the number of days, not counting Sundays, which I then added on); for example, I bought seven pounds of kielbasa (one pound per week) and five ten-packs of instant oatmeal (one for each day of Lent plus the Sundays).

Until I decided to cook it, I didn't think about subdividing the week's kielbasa; if I eat it all in one sitting, or two, I won't have any for the rest of the week. Best to divide it into quarters and have one quarter on each of four days of the week: Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday seem natural, as Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday are traditionally more penitential days of the week. For milk, I have twenty 1-quart packs of powdered milk; I mixed up the first quart tonight and realized I have an allotment of 2 cups per day minus one day per week. Okay, no milk on Friday.

As I stared into my cabinets I wondered, "can I pull this off?" As the pungent aroma of the pesto cheese from the monks of Gethsemani wafted through the kitchen, I got nervous: I envisioned running out of everything and being unable to quell the rumble that my stomach was making. Best to exercise restraint.

So, instead of absentmindedly nibbling away at the cheese while cooking everything else, I waited to put together a simple and satisfying plate before digging in. I let the smell of the cheese whet my appetite while I cooked the quarter-pound of sausage and the rice and the beans. I lit a candle and said the blessing, and then when all was ready, I ate only as much as I needed, packing the leftover rice and beans for tomorrow's lunch, and then I finished the day's cup of milk, grateful for the day's end, for the food, and asking for an increase in self-control.

Faulte d'Argent: Day 1 - A World of Possibility

2010-02-18T01:03:00.002-05:00

I got through Ash Wednesday without calling my friend and demanding my ATM card back and without dwelling too much on the things I was missing out on. It was interesting, however, to see all the various places there are to spend money that I tend not to notice on a daily basis: the city was suddenly a vast environment of newsstands, delis, taxis, soda machines, shoeshines, and hotdog vendors.

I wonder if this is how the poor and the homeless and the downtrodden see the city, as one broad expanse of tantalizing and inaccessible conveniences.

Memento, homo, quia pulvis est...

2010-02-17T23:48:00.003-05:00

"Emendemus in melius" by Cristobal de Morales (1500-1553), performed by Collegium Vocale Gent, Philippe Herreweghe, director

Emendemus in melius
quae ignoranter peccavimus:
ne subito praeoccupati
die mortis quaeramus
spatium paenitentiae,
et invenire non possimus.
Attende Domine, et miserere:
quia peccavimus tibi.

Tenor: Memento, homo, quia pulvis es
et in pulverem reverteris.

****

Let us amend for the better
where we have sinned through ignorance,
lest, suddenly overtaken by the day of death,
we seek space for repentance,
and be not able to find it.
Hearken, O Lord, and have mercy:
for we have sinned against thee.

Tenor: Remember, man, that thou art dust,
and to dust thou shalt return.

****

Today the church was filled, and the streets teemed with people marked with the outward sign of repentance. Matthew meditates on that more attentively and thoughtfully than I ever could hope, but I looked on in wonder and with sadness alloyed with joy to see the church so full this afternoon at lunch that it took four priests to administer communion to the congregation, and two priests to impose the black blot of penitence to the uninterrupted line of people in the undercroft of the church.

Where are these people every other day? Sadness that so many are not beside me every day, and joy that, perhaps, some of them will take Father up on his invitation to them to come back any time to participate in the life of this Midtown parish.

****

"Rend your hearts, not your garments," the prophet Joel tells us, while the Psalmist sings "burnt offering from me you would refuse...a humbled, contrite heart you will not spurn."

To the bafflement of the world, the lot of the Christian is to be brokenhearted, not because God's promise has been broken or that it is a fantasy, but rather because it is true and profound: we are not meant for this, that is to say, we are made for more than the sorrow and division of a fallen world. When we recognize this, however, we begin to seek the physician, Christ, who will bind up our wounds and see us through our exile.

Heartbreak, pain, vulnerability, sorrow, these are the things that lead us to one another and to God. In penance, we turn again to God and seek out healing for our pains and heartbreaks; in turn, as God binds us up, He promises, not invincibility or indifference, but rather a greater sensitivity to Him.

"I will give you a heart of flesh," Ezekiel the prophet tells us. He describes God removing our hearts of stone and replacing them with the heart of flesh, the living heart, sensitive and receptive, the way it is meant to be from the beginning.

In our prayer and fasting and almsgiving, if we do it right, we will be heartbroken, so that we might be healed. Rend your hearts, not your garments. He will be there with you.

Faulte d'Argent: Setting out into the desert

2010-02-17T01:15:00.000-05:00

As Ash Wednesday approached, I realized that, despite my best efforts to prepare, I am simply not ready. More importantly, it's a realization that I am never ready for something like this; I am never ready to set out, to go someplace new, to confront the unknown.

However, I simply must do it; I have made what I trust to be adequate preparations, and now I go forth with the trust that God will see me through and that whatever fears and anxieties I have will either a) be unfounded and unrealized, or b) will come to pass and have to be confronted. In the short term, however, it is senseless to worry; rather, it is precisely this sort of situation in which I am called to turn more closely to God and to pray more consciously and urgently, to be delivered from fear and anxiety.

I have completed my preparations: there were several unexpected things I needed to take care of the past couple days. A refill on a prescription. I had to buy a cheese slicer. A railroad pass for use on weekends. I am not ready.

I must be ready. Ten and a half years ago, I packed my belongings in a trunk and a couple of suitcases and got on a plane from Minneapolis to New York, with $1500 cash and no job, not knowing what to expect or what would become of me; I was unprepared and yet was sustained. I found work, eventually found an apartment of my own, and ultimately, I was found by God.

And so that is my hope for these upcoming days of fast and penance, that I be found unprepared but welcoming of God wherever He finds me: in prayer, in my friends and family, in the music I am blessed to sing, in the Sacraments, in the faces of the lonely strangers I am surrounded by every day.

****

Tonight I met a group of friends for a Mardi Gras dinner, a feast of Cuban food at a favorite restaurant. We ate heartily and enjoyed a long and leisurely conversation. I tendered over to a trusted friend my credit and debit cards and an envelope of cash. I am now officially cash-free.

On the way home, I realized I still have about $2 in coins in my pocket, and I was overcome with a compulsion to spend the money before midnight: Dunkin Donuts, a convenience store, the pizzeria; the money is there and I'm not going to spend any for the next month and a half, why not just spend this last little bit now on some soda or a snack? I was a bit obsessed; I struggled but prayed my way through it and came home without making an unnecessary stop.

****

And now it is Wednesday. I have packed my slices of bread for a collation during tomorrow's fast. I will, like my ancestors, get my forehead marked with the outward signs of penitence, showing to the world my intent to set out into the desert. I am not ready.

I will never be ready, if I choose to be, because readiness is a choice, a defense against willingness. There are always things to be acquired, completed, wrapped up, taken care of, all things that keep us from following God; I think of the young man whose remorse at the prospect of having to sell his many goods prevents him from heeding the Lord's call, or the one in St. Luke's gospel who must go bury his father before following God. I will never be ready.

But the time will come nonetheless, the time for setting out. And I will heed the call, and be willing to be made ready in the course of the journey.

I will never be ready. I am ready. Thy will be done. Amen.

St. Scholastica

2010-02-10T20:12:00.004-05:00

Sts. Benedict and Scholastica

Today, February 10, the Church celebrated the memorial of St. Scholastica, who, in addition to being the sister of St. Benedict, was a nun and a holy woman in her own right. In the Office of Readings today, St. Gregory the Great tells of how Scholastica visited Benedict and wanted to stay up the night talking with him; when he denied her request, telling her he must get back to his cell, she prayed, at which point a fierce storm came up and prevented Benedict from leaving her.

Sadly he began to complain: "May God forgive you, sister. What have you done?" "Well," she answered, "I asked you and you would not listen; so I asked my God and he did listen. So now go off, if you can, leave me and return to your monastery."

Reluctant as he was to stay of his own will, he remained against his will. So it came about that they stayed awake the whole night, engrossed in their conversation about the spiritual life. (Dialogues by St. Gregory the Great).

After Scholastica's death, Benedict sent his brothers out to get her body, which he had buried in his own grave. "Their minds had always been united in God; their bodies were to share a common grave," writes St. Gregory.

This brother and sister are but one example of many saintly pairs throughout history; this is a particular fascination of mine, the way in which God's salvation is lived between brothers and sisters, mothers and sons, husbands and wives, male and female friends. Some notable examples are St. Augustine and his mother St. Monica, Sts. Francis and Clare of Assisi, Bl. Jordan of Saxony and Bl. Diana D'Andalo, Sts. Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal, Bl. Louis and Bl. Zelie Martin, Sts. John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila, Sts. Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac.

They all serve to show us that "it is not good for man to be alone," defying the very modern idea that we don't need each other and that relationships are mechanisms for fulfilling our selfish desires, or, on the other hand, dangerous entanglements to be avoided.

St. Scholastica, pray for us!

Farewell to a friend

2010-02-10T16:34:00.003-05:00

I met Jon B. sometime in the fall of 2002, as I set out on my "trudge along the road of happy destiny" to use the colorful terminology of Bill Wilson. Jon was an ex-junkie with a raspy voice and creased features, the product of years of hard living, and he struggled mightily with his addictions, periodically "going out" (relapsing) and coming back in to meetings to "count days" again. He lived in an SRO on Broadway, on the Upper West Side, and he earned money as a caricature artist on the east side of Central Park, near the heavily-traveled areas by the Zoo and the skating rink, not far from the Plaza Hotel. His voice was raspy from years of smoking, and his slight build was disguised somewhat by the baggy flannel shirts, jeans, and boots that he wore. He reminded me of the rock musicians of the late '60's and '70's, rough around the edges; a friend of mine used to call him "Iggy Pop" Jon because of his similarities to the famous hard rocker.

Once, early on, when I was between jobs and shaky in my sobriety, I called Jon when I was afraid I would stop in to a bar I used to frequent; it was a weekday, and many of the other "friends of Bill" I knew worked during the day and weren't available to meet me, but Jon was. He invited me over to his smoky, cluttered room and we simply sat and talked for a while over coffee and cigarettes. On another occasion, I was at his apartment when the infamous Steve Bartman incident ruined the 2003 National League Championship Series for the Chicago Cubs the same day as the horrific Staten Island Ferry crash.

It was there that I'd learned a little more about him; he was a tough Jewish boy from Brooklyn who had gotten off to a bad start in adolescence. At some point, during one of his many periods of getting sober, he had become Catholic, though he didn't go to Mass anymore. "I'm thinking the Unitarians are right," he said once, perhaps one of the last times I saw him. I regret now that I didn't try to get him to come to Mass with me, that I didn't share with him the miracles and wonders that God had done in my life, and in his life. Today, I learned by way of a text message from a friend, that Jon recently died of a heart attack. I had lost touch with him and had not seen him in probably four years, but I was saddened to hear of his passing.

****

Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.

****

D. reminds me to look forward to the Resurrection, when sin, death, sorrow, disease, and decay no longer prevail, and where we are glorified in the flesh. She says that with those things removed, we will be more ourselves, fully living as we ourselves are meant to be, yet fully able to participate in the good things of Heaven in the presence of Christ and the Saints.

"You'll be able to drink in Heaven," she says.

Until then, I am content to go without, knowing the glory that awaits me and recalling the horrors I endured in this life. My hope is that I'll meet all my fellow alcoholics in the world to come, and that we'll share in the Resurrection.

Please pray for Jon, that he might see the Creator whose name he once confessed and whose will he struggled to follow.

Faulte d'Argent: Giving and Accepting Assistance

2010-02-09T20:51:00.004-05:00

Pentimento charmingly went into mother hen mode in the comments, concerned that I would not be getting enough nutrients and so she suggested I add frozen vegetables to my Lenten stockpiles. Upon reflection, and seeing that I still had space in my freezer, I did that this evening and have now concluded my squirrel-like acquisition of food for the next two months.

The worry of forgetting something vital has given way to the acceptance that, yes, I probably have forgotten something, but I will either a) get by without it or b) God will find some way of providing it if I truly need it. I was hit with the realization yesterday that, irrespective of how favorably the course of events are going for me, I am not in control. God is. The most I can do is seek His will, make my modest preparations to follow it, and ask for His assistance.

That assistance comes in the form of prayers from friends, and good advice, and opportunties to help. I read Pentimento's recent post about life in her new town, where she meets the lonely and poor on a regular basis, and where she and her husband hope to adopt a child, and I am reminded that we live in an Epoch of Loneliness, the defining trait of our age.

She has a caring heart and is naturally inclined to care for the welfare of others, as she demonstrated to me in her show of concern. Though I'm not far along enough where I'm adopting children, I see that, at the present time, I am called to be a friend. New York is filled with the lonely: so many of us are from other places, far from family and the friends we grew up with, and we are plunged into the anonymity of the big city.

My dear friend Drusilla is ill and out on disability; she's been having financial difficulties owing to a roommate situation that fared poorly and a Kafkaesque bureaucratic logjam with insurance companies, doctors, and human resources administrators. It's been frustrating to see my friend suffer, and to be seemingly powerless to help out. I do what I can to pick up groceries or prescriptions, to send a little to her by PayPal, and to offer an open ear and prayers and phone calls. I guess simply trying to be a friend is the best I can do, and trust that God recognizes that.

I've befriended a woman in my neighborhood who's from another country and who works a very busy schedule. My big-hearted girlfriend D. has shown me how to open up to and be kind to all sorts of people; she is naturally disposed to kindness, and toward seeing the inherent human dignity of all she meets, which is a rare and remarkable trait. From her I've learned to be kind and open toward the homeless people I meet, including one who perches on the steps of a Presbyterian church near my church. I try to stop and greet him each week before going to choir rehearsal.

Most significantly, there is D. herself; it's hard being in another city from her, but we do our best to keep in touch with daily phone calls, and e-mail, and text messages. Fortunately, we are close enough where we can visit each other frequently, and we've discovered that we make a good team. It's truly a blessing to have such companionship and prayerful support.

My erstwhile confessor, Fr. B., a Dominican friar from Poland, remarked how easy it was to share the Gospel with Americans, because they are so lonely and preoccupied. Underneath it all, they want a friend, he said, and that is where Jesus comes in. "Thirsty" was the word that Fr. B. often used to describe us.

My reading of the Rule has helped me to be more receptive to those I encounter, particularly Chapter 53, which sets establishes the Benedictine practice of hospitality. "Any guest who happens to arrive at the monastery should be received just as we would receive Christ himself, because he promised that on the last day he will say: I was a stranger and you welcomed me."

In my Lenten discipline, I hope that this spirit of hospitality be practiced by having guests come to visit me for a simple cup of coffee and a chat on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, or maybe I'll host a party. I trust that He will show the way.

Faulte d'Argent: Preparations

2010-02-06T20:45:00.006-05:00

18 loaves of Monk's Bread

6 lbs. of cheese from the Trappists of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky

7 bars of soap from the Dominican Nuns of Summit, New Jersey

3 bags of Mystic Monk Coffee

3 jars of Trappist Preserves

1 container honey from Holy Cross Abbey

2 Monks' brownies non-alcoholic

3 jars Organic peanut butter

nuts

rice

beans

powdered milk

sausage

pickled beets

applesauce

raisins

canned pineapple

pickles

pasta

spaghetti sauce

cookies to offer guests

canned tuna

3 jars Nunda mustard

cleaning supplies

toilet paper

napkins

dish detergent

hand-wash liquid

vitamins

extra socks & underwear

bus ticket to visit D. for a weekend

a sci-fi classic to read

a request for prayers from friends and family

Adventures in Penance: Faulte d'Argent

2010-02-05T23:01:00.006-05:00

Faulte d'Argent, c'est douleur non pareille - Josquin des Prez

I was praying after receiving communion on the feast of the Baptism of the Lord, thinking about how Jesus's baptism serves as preparation for His going into the desert to do combat with the Devil, when I started to think about Lent. It's the natural thing to do, because the story of Jesus is one of constant motion; the liturgical year has its own narrative, such that we walk with Him day in and day out, through His life, death, resurrection, ascension, and to the coming of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles at Pentecost.

Lent, though not the beginning of the liturgical year, is for me a period of renewal; I have come to enjoy the experience of entering into the desert places with Christ over the years. Over the past several years, I have not made decisions about "giving something up" for Lent, but rather, tried to let God point me in the direction He would like me to take.

Last year, this took the form of renouncing the iPod, after an embarrassing exchange with a kindly bus driver who waited for me to catch up with him as I ran for the bus stop. I had my earphones in and was not paying attention to him at all, until he tartly said, "You're welcome!" to me after I paid my fare. I realized in that moment, that I was using the iPod as a way of shutting Christ out of my life; with the headphones in, I could become completely turned inward without regard to anyone else. I haven't used the iPod since then.

This year, while praying, it suddenly hit me that I was being called to something more drastic than give up chocolates. In that moment of prayer, I heard God tell me, "don't spend any money."

Really?

Yes, only your obligations. Rent, utilities, and creditors.

What about food, coffee, laundry, etc.?

Prepare beforehand.

OK.

****

Looking back, it makes sense. In a time of great anxiety, a time in which many people are unemployed, a time in which I and many people have come to see big government and big business using our own money to team up against us, I see that I need to become much more discriminating in my spending.

I don't think I'm particularly materialistic, but I see how easy it is for me to spend mindlessly, to be lazy, to be unprepared. $5 for coffee here, $10 for lunch there; simply having means and opportunity has allowed me to become spiritually flabby.

What if I had to prepare to go through all of Lent, from February 17 to April 4, without visiting an ATM or using my debit and credit cards? What would change?

I would have to prepare ahead of time. I would need to think about what to feed myself, I would need to think about staying home more instead of rushing out to eat because I'm too lazy to cook or going to the coffee shop because it's a place to sit and be seen. I would have to look at inviting friends to come over to my apartment, rather than meeting them for movies or meals. I would have to open myself up to God's love, trusting that He'll take care of me in times when I can't take care of myself.

And so I've begun my preparations.

I decided to begin by renewing my promise to buy what I can from monastic communities. Also, I had to think about things that could be stored for that period of time: no fresh fruits, vegetables, or meat. Avoid things that would take up a lot of space. Buy sufficient quantities to last that amount of time.

More than simply stockpiling food, though, I must also talk with D. especially and also with my friends; I must let them know what I'm up to, why it's important, and invite them to participate in this adventure with me. The last thing I want is for this to be an impediment to my relationships, or for it to be a tactic for avoiding people.

Pray.

****

As the time has grown closer, I have become more and more excited to do this. I remembered a delightful book I read years ago called Boggs: A Comedy of Values about a mischievous and talented artist named J.S.G. Boggs who makes drawings of currency and exchanges it with merchants who willingly accept his drawings at face value.

At one point in the book, Boggs decided to live an entire year off only his drawings, without using any "real" money.

That said, I do not mean this to be merely a stunt, or a sort of exercise one might find on a reality TV program.

Rather, I hope, first and foremost, to draw more closely to God. My pattern of mindless consumption has led me to complacency and presumptuousness: I tend to assume that I will always be able to grab something on the go without having to worry about whether it's good for me, whether I can afford it, or whether I should be patient and prayerful rather than impulsive and distracted.

I hope to enter into solidarity with those who do not have the luxury of impulse because of unemployment, illness, or loneliness, first with prayer during Lent, and then with material support once Eastertide arrives.

I hope, as with renouncing the iPod, to become more attuned to God's presence in the world around me, in the people I meet, in the work that I do, and in the triumphs and struggles of the Lenten fast, to Him be glory forever.

Sobriety and the Rule

2010-01-29T22:26:00.003-05:00

Part of the joy of reading St. Benedict's Rule for Monks is experiencing the comprehensiveness of it: the Rule is, after all, a practical document, a directive set out as a way of forming and maintaining a community of diverse people with various talents, weaknesses, personalities, and levels of ability all focused on a single purpose: to grow together in holiness.

My attraction to the Rule is its practicality and simplicity: it sets forth a way of Christian life that is centered on the Work of God (i.e. praying the Divine Office) and manual labor that helps sustain and enrich the lives of the community, ever mindful of obedience to the abbot, fraternal harmony, and hospitality to the stranger at the gate. It is a way of life in which Christ is encountered in the singing of the Psalms and Canticles of the Office, in the meditation and study of Scripture and the writings of the Church Fathers that is lectio divina, and in the harmonious relationship with one's superior and one's brothers and in receptiveness to guests. In these ways, it reminds me much of my experience with the Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, which serve as a set of principles guiding one's life toward recovery from alcoholism.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I read Chapter 7, which sets forth the Twelve Steps of Humility, and when I encountered my favorite passage thus far, in Chapter 40:

As for those to whom God has given the self-control that enables them to abstain from strong drink, they should be encouraged by the knowledge that the Lord will also give them a fitting reward.

It does encourage me! My whole life experience has shown me that I have been given a tremendous grace by God out of love for me, and that has been its own reward; and yet, there is a promise of more to come, that is, eternity itself. As St. Paul writes, in my favorite of his Epistles, his second to St. Timothy, "for God did not give us a spirit of timidity but a spirit of power and love and self-control." (2 Tim. 1:7)

And what does that spirit yield Paul, and us? A blessed and beautifully phrased assurance:

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up from me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing." (2 Tim. 4:7-8).

And finally, the Mellifluous Doctor St. Bernard offers me, through his life in the Rule and his experience of God in the Scriptures, the synthesis of the Rule and the word of God when he writes:

Where can the weak find a place of firm security and peace, except in the wounds of the Savior? Indeed, the more secure is my place there the more he can do to help me. The world rages, the flesh is heavy, and the devil lays his snares, but I do not fall, for my feet are planted on firm rock. I may have sinned gravely. My conscience would be distressed, but it would not be in turmoil, for I would recall the wounds of the Lord: he was wounded for our iniquities. What sin is there so deadly that it cannot be pardoned by the death of Christ? And so if I bear in mind this strong, effective remedy, I can never again be terrified by the malignancy of sin. (Sermon 61 on the Song of Songs).

The simple assurance and practical simplicity of the Rule are directed to people like me: those afflicted with flagging will, tattered memory, and fugitive intellect, and yet possessed of deep desire for friendship with God and His creation.

A Monk's Heart

2010-01-25T20:35:00.003-05:00

Shenandoah Valley, Berryville, Virginia, near Holy Cross Abbey.

One of the Dominican friars at my parish has been trying to recruit me to join the parish's chapter of the Dominican laity, although I've been experiencing some ambivalence about it. Several years ago, I went to several meetings of a Third Order chapter at another church, as I find membership in a religious order attractive, and I have a profound respect for the Dominican charism of preaching and scholarship.

With the saintly example of Holy Father Dominic, St. Catherine of Siena, Sts. Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas, and many other saints and blesseds, the order has a vibrant and distinguished history. However, as time goes by, I realize that I am not called to the life of scholarship and to the devotions and the charism of preaching that are the hallmarks of the Dominican spirit.

Rather, I have come to realize, particularly since my visit nearly three years ago to the Benedictine Abbey of Solesmes, that it is the spirit of contemplative monasticism that speaks to me. When I was confirmed, and placed myself under the patronage of St. Benedict, I was fascinated by the mystery of communities of men and women throughout the world, praying constantly for the rest of us; today, that mystery is compounded with a profound admiration for the vows of stability, obedience, and conversion of life that make up the vows of a monk or nun. Additionally, the Benedictine tradition of hospitality serves as an example that I seek to emulate in my friendships and with the strangers I meet.

Over the course of the long Christmas weekend, D. and I visited the Trappist Abbey of the Holy Cross, in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley; while there, I purchased the excellent Benedictine Handbook, which contains the complete Rule of St. Benedict, as well as discussion of Benedictine life, prayer, saints, and ways of living the Rule.

I've enjoyed my encounter with the simplicity of the Rule so far, with its focus on praying the Psalms and its strong emphasis on living in a hospitable community of believers. For several years now, I have prayed the Liturgy of the Hours, most recently the full Office, including the Office of Readings, on a daily basis; from this discipline, I have derived great benefit of familiarity with the Word of God and the writings of the Church Fathers, as well as the entrance into community with those who are also praying the Office, wherever they may be.

In the future, I hope to visit monasteries and see if there are any that I would like to be associated with as an oblate, and, for the time I'll content myself with reading the Rule and the Office. Of my discovery that I'm more Benedictine than Dominican, my good friend SJH said, "That makes sense to me. I can more easily picture you discussing something you read in the Office than in the Summa."

Vacation!

2010-01-16T21:03:00.003-05:00

After a busy month, I finally am taking some much-needed vacation time to visit D.C., so posting might be infrequent for the next couple of days. I'm glad to be back posting and want to thank all the readers who've come back my way after such a long absence.

I'm looking forward to putting up more soon!

Prayer Intention 7: For Healing of Alcoholics and Addicts

2010-01-16T00:01:00.001-05:00

My seventh prayer intention of the year 2010 is one that is of deep personal meaning: I will pray in a special way for the healing of alcoholics and addicts, and those who love them and care for them.

The initial purpose of this blog was to testify to the miraculous grace of healing I have been given by Christ, in the form of a release from the "little Hell" of active alcoholism. I was painfully and sorrowfully confined within the prison of my own self-will, in the strong bonds of alcoholism: joyless, listless, and, in the end, hopeless. I carry some of the wounds with me to this day; perhaps I will as long as I live, but my faith and hope lead me to conclude that healing is always at work, albeit sometimes more slowly than I believe it should be.

The affliction of alcoholism left me with flagging will, tattered memory, and erratic intellect; the healing power of Christ has given me hope, faith, and charity. I have been given graces far beyond anything I deserve, but which I gladly and gratefully accept: loving friends, opportunities to use my talents for God's glory, a community of believers, strengthened relationships with family. All of these things I have seen happen not only for me, but for other people of all backgrounds who have come to know God and to accept the forgiveness offered through His Son.

The Carmelite priest Fr. Augustine-Marie of the Blessed Sacrament, (Hermann Cohen), once said in a sermon, "Do you believe, my brothers, that God converted us just for our own benefit? No, a thousand times no. It is for others as much as for ourselves, that they may avoid the reefs against which we have shipwrecked. Yes, He has nailed us as signposts before the gates of Hell to say, 'Don't go this way.'"

Though he was speaking in the terms of one who came into the Church from Judaism, Father Cohen's words resonate with me and are a motto of mine. I, too, have been nailed as a signpost before the gates of Hell, and it is my hope that through my prayers and my testimony that other suffering alcoholics and addicts might come to know the forgiveness and peace of friendship with Christ.

I offer my Saturday prayers for the healing and consolation of alcoholics and addicts, through the intercession of the Venerable Matt Talbot.

Prayer Intention 6: For the Suffering Chaldean Church in Iraq

2010-01-15T00:01:00.001-05:00

My sixth prayer intention for the year 2010 is for the consolation of the small and ancient Chaldean Church, the community of Catholics in Iraq who have endured brutal attacks and violence at the hand of Muslim terrorists determined to kill or convert them. I've written in the past about the sufferings endured by these ancient brothers in faith, and I have kept them in my prayers ever since I first learned of the assassination of Father Ragheed Ganni, along with three subdeacons, in Mosul, Iraq, in 2007.

While we Catholics here in America have full religious liberty, enjoying the right to go to Mass and to partake in the Sacraments of the Church without much peril, the Catholic people of Iraq risk their lives daily to gather and celebrate the Sacred Mysteries. The Church, now as two thousand years ago, is built upon the faithful testament of Her Martyrs, and I pray that this be the case with those in Iraq who suffer and die for their faith.

Every Friday is a reminder of Christ's Passion, and so I fittingly dedicate my Friday prayers to the suffering Church, through the intercession of Father Ragheed Ganni and his companions.

Prayer Intention 5: For the Reunion of Lutherans with Catholic Church

2010-01-14T00:01:00.001-05:00

My fifth prayer intention for the year 2010 is for the reunion of the Lutheran and Catholic Churches.

Growing up in Minnesota, I was surrounded by Lutherans, and, looking back, I was impressed with the level of catechesis they received, in comparison to the rather incomplete instruction I received in my own Catholic parish. Later on, in adulthood, as I came to deeply appreciate the genius of J.S. Bach, I saw how integral he was to Lutheranism; I don't know to what extent Bach is still sung and played in Lutheran liturgy, but he is certainly a marvelous legacy to have.

More recently, I have been exposed to the thought of two people who have helped me grow spirtually: the late Fr. Richard John Neuhaus (the Lutheran pastor-turned-Catholic priest who died last year, on January 8, 2009) and Pastor Ken Klaus, whose sermons I listened to on the radio with great anticipation on Sunday mornings as I awakened to get ready to go to choir rehearsal before Mass.

The evangelical zeal and solid, passionate preaching I heard on the radio (which, since the New Year, is no longer available on WQXR in New York), led me to desire fervently the preaching of someone like Pastor Klaus in Catholic churches around the country.

Ultimately, the Church is meant to be one - the fractures of the Protestant Reformation and the separation between the Catholic and Orthodox Churches are wounds that we hope to have reconciled. Fr. Neuhaus, in his essay "How I Became the Catholic I Was", wrote, "I became a Catholic in order to be more fully what I was and who I was as a Lutheran."

For Fr. Neuhaus, the good work begun by Christ in him as a Lutheran was fulfilled, not rejected, in becoming Catholic. That others in the Lutheran churches might follow in his steps, I dedicate my Thursday prayers.

Prayer Intention 4: For the Renewal of Contemplative Monasticism

2010-01-13T00:01:00.002-05:00

My fourth intention for 2010 is for a renewal and growth of contemplative monasticism, particularly in the Benedictine family.

When I was confirmed, I placed myself under the patronage of St. Benedict, and I have always taken consolation in the knowledge that, throughout the world, there were communities of men and women dedicated to praying on our behalf. As part of my Christmas gift, D. took me to Holy Cross Abbey in Virginia on a day trip, where we spent some time and money in the abbey bookshop, followed by Vespers in the chapel with the monks. Among the purchases I made there, I picked up a copy of the Rule of St. Benedict, which I have started to peruse.

I have come to believe that in an increasingly alienating and isolating world, the Benedictine life of stability and obedience will be the source of spiritual renewal for all.

To this end, I dedicate my Wednesday prayers for the intercession of Dom Prosper Gueranger, the first Abbot of Solesmes, who restored the Benedictines in France and whose spiritual children have preserved and propagated the Gregorian chant throughout the Church.

Prayer Intention 3: For the Canonization of Dorothy Day

2010-01-12T00:01:00.004-05:00

My third prayer intention for the year 2010 is for the canonization of Dorothy Day, which reads:

God our Creator,
your servant Dorothy Day exemplified the
Catholic faith by her conversion,
life of prayer and voluntary poverty,
works of mercy, and
witness to the justice and peace
of the Gospel.

May her life inspire people
to turn to Christ as their Savior and guide,
to see his face in the world’s poor and
to raise their voices for the justice
of God’s kingdom.

We pray that you grant the favors we ask
through her intercession so that her goodness
and holiness my be more widely recognized
and one day the Church may
proclaim her Saint.

We ask this through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

In reading a little about her life, and also through reading her excellent life of St. Therese, I have come to a deeper appreciation for the social teaching of the Church. This led me to read the excellent encyclical Rerum novarum, and to enter more fully into a study of the Church's teaching on economic matters, which eschew the dual extremes of capitalism and socialism for a true respect of the freedom and dignity of the individual and the family.

Dorothy Day lived this teaching in a radical way by co-founding the Catholic Worker movement, and by dedicating herself to care of the poor and downtrodden through authentic Christian witness. In an era in which the family and the individual are under constant assault by the powerful interests of oppressive government and large business concerns, we desperately need a renewal of Christian charity, as lived by Dorothy Day.

For this, I dedicate my Tuesday prayers.

Prayer Intention 2: Protection of the Order of Preachers

2010-01-11T00:01:00.002-05:00

My second prayer intention for 2010 is for the protection and growth of the Order of Preachers, the Dominicans.

Dominican friars from the Polish Province have lovingly tended to their flock at my parish, the Church of Notre Dame in New York City. Far from their home, they have brought a joyful charism of reverence, devotion, orthodoxy and beauty to the lives of our community.

In their solid preaching of the Word and in their joyful celebration of the Sacraments, they have enriched and deepened my life in ways that I cannot begin to describe. The rich and beautiful history of the Dominican Order, and its many saints and blesseds, from St. Dominic, Bl. Diana D'Andalo, Bl. Jordan of Saxony, Sts. Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas, St. Catherine of Siena, and countless others, have served to inspire many to study and preach the Gospel with zeal and joy.

For their protection and growth, and for their unique charism of preaching and zeal for the salvation of souls, I dedicate my Monday prayers through the intercession of St. Dominic.

Nic Cage as Everyone

2010-01-10T22:40:00.001-05:00

The mascot is ubiquitous.

Regina caeli

2010-01-10T21:26:00.003-05:00

This is an anonymous setting of the Marian Antiphon for Paschaltide that the Notre Dame Choir sang last year during Eastertide, and which was recorded here as part of a benefit concert we gave in June 2009 to raise funds toward restoring our church's organ.

I believe that this concert may have been the best overall performance we have given in my six years (at the time) of singing with the group.

I hope you enjoy this performance.

Prayer Intention 1: Seeking God's Will in Relationship

2010-01-10T00:01:00.003-05:00

Instead of making soon-to-be broken New Year's Resolutions, I decided this year to set out seven daily prayer intentions for the year, one for each day of the week. I simply dedicate my prayers for the day, be it the Divine Office, daily Mass, or Rosary to the intention, and ask for the intercession or canonization of an individual or individuals associated with each intention.

The first intention, for each Sunday of 2010, is for the discernment of, and willingness to follow, God's will in my deepening relationship with D. Part of why I haven't done much writing here over the past several months is because my life has grown much more full with her in my life; the time I used to spend writing I now spend in conversation or visiting with D. I've made numerous trips to D.C. to see her, and she has come here to New York many times as well.

After having spent my life believing I was meant to be alone, I have been tremendously blessed and pleasantly surprised to be entering the adventure of a budding relationship with a loving and devout woman; in a spirit of thanksgiving for this gift, and in petition for a continued guidance in God's will for this, I have set aside my Sunday prayers for an openness to a loving and devoted relationship with D., under the intercession and patronage of Blessed Louis and Zelie Martin, the parents of the Little Flower St. Therese.

I'm Back

2010-01-09T18:11:00.002-05:00

May the Birth of the Christ Child bring you abundant joy and blessings in this, the New Year of 2010!

It has been so long since I wrote anything here that I wanted to quickly greet the world and let people know that, despite my silence, I have been well and flourishing over these past several months. I hope that you are as well.

Although I do not make New Year's Resolutions, I am taking time to return to the keyboard and set down my thoughts and experiences, and wishing to share those with you. Look for more updates soon!