Throw Her Out

If I could urge dads young and old to do one thing this day moving forward, it's this: if you watch/buy/use/consume pornography--stop.

If you work in the fields, you don't walk in the house with your mud-caked boots. That's what you do when you view porn--you track it into your home. And it doesn't scrub out as easily from the carpet as mud does.

You may have sons. You may have daughters. It affects them both. It affects your spiritual state, and as a result it affects theirs and those of your household. It affects how you treat your wife, and as a result how you treat their mom. It affects your mind, your body, and your soul. It's like voluntarily infecting yourself with a disease.

Porn--and by extension, lust--is a four-fold Alinsky-esque tactic of the Devil. It perverts man's natural engine for procreation (which Satan cannot stand, as he is anti-life), and he whispers the play-by-play in the ear of man of how to carry out his revolution of degeneration:

ISOLATE IT

OBJECTIFY IT

USE IT

DISCARD IT

Man and women are a unity of parts. In isolating body parts for the purposes of lust--parts made beautiful and in the image of God himself--to meditate on for the purpose of fantasy, he attempts to dismantle the very essence of the Incarnation itself.

In objectifying the parts, he treats them as butcher would. But women (and men) are not animals, but children of the Creator.

Just as the Devil uses us for his own purposes, lust (and its specific tool, porn) causes us to use others with no care for their welfare. That is why young girls/women (and young boys/men) are depersonalized in a rote, utilitarian mechanization that is the very antithesis of holy love and tender sex.

When you are done using something, what do you do with it? You throw it out. Like a paper towel after you have dried your hands with it. That is why after Amnon rapes Tamar and his unholy desire is sated, he hates her (2 Sam 13:15). What does he say after the deed is done? "Throw her out." (2 Sam 13:17)

Is this man you want to be? Used by the Devil, like a pawn that benefits you nothing? Like a cliche-radical rebelling against your Father?

Sin is boring. Addiction is boring. It always promise a different ending and the ending never changes. Just stop it. Get off the horse. Reclaim your manhood, and put on the armor of chastity. Quit tracking mud into your house. Do whatever you need to do. Be the man, the father, the husband you were meant to be.

Fatherhood In The Age Of Witness

Of all the modern (hopefully, soon-to-be) saints, Fr. Hardon speaks to me the most about the perils of the modern age and the witness of what he calls the Martyrdom of Witness (ie, "White Martyrdom"). He knew from personal experience.

On Father's Day, every man who provides for his family knows the dangers wrought of taking on such a role--to provide, to protect, and to live by his convictions so that his children might live this witness in his footsteps. He knows words are cheap, and catechism means nothing without its lived-out expression in a life of faith.

The Lord Christ prepares and exhorts us to count the cost.

“Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’

“Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples." (Lk 14:28-33)

The loss of employment by way of white martyrdom may seem like a first-world problem, but it is a real martyrdom nonetheless, especially under the temptation to offer "just a pinch of incense." We must be wise as serpents and innocent as doves, and live our lives in a way that gives no scandal or ammunition to those who would have us stand accused.

Probably the most trying part of such martyrdom of witness is that it seems to be for naught, to stand for something and accept the punishment of injustice for doing what is right--for not lying, not conceding to falsehood, for standing firm against a tide of humiliation and accusation when it is met with a shrug by onlookers, or quickly forgotten and to be written off as a fool. There is real suffering involved, and it is most pertinently felt by men and fathers who bear the weight of and responsibility for their family's livelihood. While 99 turn and shrug as termination papers are drawn up, there may be 1 that sees such a stand for what is right and is moved by it to wonder, at least, the cause for such conviction.

Of course, one does not take such stands lightly, and certainly not to be cast in any kind of limelight for accolades among allies. But simply, they take such stands because they can do not other but what is right, and witness to the truth of things no matter what the cost. They do so in the pall shadow of eternity, for they know the tribunals they face in their places of employment in this life will be turned to dust in a matter of decades, whereas the choices to concede to falsehood, or betray their children's confidence in what is right at any and all times, will set them up for eternal damnation by the Judge who will sit on his throne until the end of time.

If wives and children want to give a true and lasting gift this Father's Day, it would be to stand with their husbands and fathers during these inevitable times of trial, when men will be put to the test, and share in the cost of such a witness should it arise--for they themselves, if what they value is vacations and trinkets and the things which a salary can provide, can weaken his resolve. But if he knows his family will stand behind him--in poverty, in sickness, in the loss of security we have grown so accustomed to--they become his Veronica, wiping his face on the way to his personal Calvary to pay the price for the wager of faith. If a man has the love and support of his wife and children, and the assurance of doing what is right, and the grace of perseverance, he can endure almost anything.

"Not all the faithful who suffer for Christ also die for Christ. Opposition to the Christian faith and way of life does not always end in violent death for the persecuted victims.

Consequently, it is well to distinguish between what may be called martyrdom of blood and martyrdom of opposition, which is bloodless indeed, but no less--and sometimes more--painful to endure.

Not all the victims of persecution die at the hands of a godless government. Millions more are ostensibly free to walk the streets and live in a home. Yet they are, in effect, deprived of every human liberty to practice their religion and to serve Christ according to their Faith. If they teach their children catechism, the parents are prevented from enjoying such privileges as decent living quarters or any kind of skilled job. If they are seen attending church, they are first warned, then threatened, and finally penalized – even to the loss of their possessions.

So the sorry tale goes on, and has been going on for years, in spite of the conspiracy of silence in our American press.

But that is not the whole picture. We need to shake ourselves into awareness that our country is going through persecution. It is no less real for being subtle, and no less painful for being perpetrated in the name of democracy.

What do I mean? I mean that any priest or religious, any married or single person in America who wishes to sincerely and fully live up to his Catholic commitment, finds countless obstacles in his way and experiences innumerable difficulties that accumulatively demand heroic fortitude to overcome and withstand.

All we have to do is place the eight beatitudes in one column and the eight corresponding attitudes of our culture in another column, and compare the two. Where Christ advocates poverty, the world despises the poor and canonizes the rich. Where Christ praises gentleness, the world belittles meekness and extols those who succeed by crushing anyone who stands in their way. Where Christ encourages mourning and sorrow for sin, the world revels in pleasure and the noise of empty laughter. Where Christ promises joy only to those who seek justice and holiness, the world offers satisfaction in the enjoyment of sin. Where Christ bids us forgive and show mercy to those who have offended us, the world seeks vengeance and its law courts are filled with demands for retribution. Where Christ blesses those who are pure of heart, the world scoffs at chastity and makes a god of sex. Where Christ tells the peaceful that they shall be rewarded, the world teaches just the opposite in constant rebellion and violence and massive preparation for war. And where Christ teaches the incredible doctrine of accepting persecution with patience and resignation to God's will, the world dreads nothing more than criticism and rejection; and human respect which means acceptance by society, is the moral norm.

On the bloody side, our century has had more Christians who were martyred for Christ than in all the centuries from Calvary to nineteen hundred included. I should know because not a few of my own relatives behind the iron curtain have shed their blood for Christ rather than deny their Catholic Faith.

To this day, innumerable Catholics are dying for their faith at the hands of Muslims who are told by the Koran to either convert Christians from their idolatry of adoring the man Jesus as though he were God, or put them to death.

But my focus here is on our own country. Call it an unbloody martyrdom. But have no doubt that to live an authentic Catholic life in America today is to live a martyr's life.

This is my fiftieth year in the priesthood, and I can testify to every syllable of the following sentence: Only heroic bishops and heroic priests, heroic religious, heroic fathers and mothers, heroic faithful, will survive the massive persecution of the Catholic Church in our country today. We call ourselves the Land of Liberty. But the only liberty that is given freedom is the liberty to do your own will. Pro-choice is not just a clever phrase. It is the hallmark of a culture in which millions have chosen to do what they want and make life humanly impossible for those who choose to do what God wants.

Martyrdom of Witness We still have one more type of martyrdom to reflect on, and it is, in a way, the most pervasive of all because no follower of Christ can escape it. This is the martyrdom of witness.

What do we mean by martyrdom of witness and how does it differ from the other two? It differs from them in that, even in the absence of active opposition--the imitation of Christ must always face passive opposition. From whom? From those who lack a clear vision of the Savior or who, having had it, lost their former commitment to Christ. All that we have seen about the martyrdom by violence applies here too, but the method of opposition is different. Here the firm believer in the Church's teaching authority; the devoted servant of the papacy; the convinced pastor who insists on sound doctrine to his flock; the dedicated religious who want to remain faithful to their vows of authentic poverty, honest chastity, and sincere obedience; the firm parents who are concerned about the religious and moral training of their children and are willing to sacrifice generously to build and care for a Christian family--natural or adopted--such persons will not be spared also active criticism and open opposition. But they must especially be ready to live in an atmosphere of coldness to their deepest beliefs.

Sometimes they would almost wish the opposition were more overt and even persecution would be a welcome change. It is the studied indifference of people whom they know and love, of persons in their own natural or religious family, of men and women whose intelligence they respect and whose respect they cherish.

This kind of apathy can be demoralizing and, unless it finds relief, can be devastating.

To continue living a Christ-like life in this kind of environment is to practice the martyrdom of witness. Why witness? Because it means giving testimony to our deep religious convictions although all around us others are giving their own example to the contrary.

It means giving witness twice over: once on our own behalf as the outward expression of what we internally believe and once again on behalf of others whose conduct is not only different from ours but contradicts it.

Wherein lies the martyrdom? It lies in the deprivation of good example to us on the part of our contemporaries, and in the practice of Christian virtue in loneliness, because those who witness what we do are in the majority--numerically or psychologically--and we know they are being challenged and embarrassed by the testimony. We witness to them, indeed, but they are not pleased to witness who we are, what we stand for, what we say, or what we do.

Notwithstanding all of this, however, it behooves us to look at the positive side of the picture. We must remind ourselves that this witness of ours is not so sterile as we may suppose; quite the contrary. Although we may be, or at least feel, often quite alone, we are not alone at all. Not infrequently our severest critics can become our strongest admirers. In any case, witness that we give by living up to the conviction of our Faith is surely demanding on human nature. That is why we call it martyrdom. But it is a witness to the truth and God's grace is always active in the hearts of everyone whose path we cross.

If we would know the power of this martyrdom of witness we have only to read the annals of the early Church. The handful of believers whom Peter baptized on Pentecost Sunday were as a drop in the immense culture surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. Yet see what happened. This small group of convinced faithful were able, in less than three hundred years, to turn the tide of paganism in the Roman Empire. For a long time they were deprived even of the basic civil rights accorded other citizens. They were often hunted like animals, and the catacombs tell us that they had to hide when celebrating the Liturgy and hide the tombs of their revered dead.

But their patience and meekness finally prevailed. Yes, but only because it was supported by unbounded courage, born not of their own strength, but of the power that Christ promised to give all His followers that shall witness to His name everywhere. This promise is just as true today. All that we need is to trust in the Spirit Whom we possess, and never grow weary in giving testimony to the grace we received.

This is what Christ was talking about when He told us not to hide our virtues but to allow them to be publicly seen, like a candle on a candlestick or a city on a mountaintop. We should not be afraid that by such evidence of our good works we shall be protected from vainglory by the cost in humiliation that witnessing to a holy life inevitably brings. There will have to be enough death to self and enough ignoring of human respect to keep us from getting proud in our well-doing. God will see to that. On our part, we must be willing to pay the price of suffering in doing good, which is another name for being a living martyr, that is, a courageous witness to the life of Christ in the world today."

--Fr. John Hardon, SJ

The Immolation of Christ

In June of 1963 a Buddhist priest, Quảng Đức, doused himself with gasoline and set himself on fire on the streets of Saigon to protest the treatment of Buddhists during the presidency of the Roman Catholic President of South Vietnam, Ngô Đình Diệm. Since Quảng Đức's act of self-immolation, a handful of other Westerners and U.S. peace activists followed suit and burned themselves alive to protest the war in Vietnam. The photograph has become an iconic symbol of political resistance. I first saw it on the cover of a Rage Against the Machine CD in the late nineties.

What's interesting is that the first time I heard the term 'immolation' in a Catholic context was in reading a book, The Latin Mass Explained, in which Christ's sacrifice and the sacrifice of the Mass are spoken of using this term. "[Christ] immolates Himself by freely delivering Himself into the hands of His executioners. His Will thus became operative in the external slaying." The lamb is killed and complete destroyed in sacrifice.

The word sacrifice is derived from the two Latin words sacer, meaning "sacred," and facere, "to make."

"Sacrifice is the highest form of religious worship. It is the outward expression of man's entire dependence upon God. This absolute dependence of man upon his Creator is expressed in the destruction, or change, of the thing offered."

During these periods of political and social protests in the U.S., we see this kind of resistance in perhaps less extreme ways. In lieu of self-immolation, the toppling of statues and the burning of American flags in DPZs is a kind of symbolic destruction--the goal being to completely raze the nation and rebuild it in their anarchistic likeness. It is hardly a sacrifice, in the true sense of that term, however, since it costs these destroyers nothing.

Christians do not self-immolate because the body is sacred and belongs to God alone. To do so for political purposes renders such destruction of Temples even more profane.

However, the Christian seeks to immolate his self-will--through prayer, penance, and mortification--through a dying to self so that he may more closely imitate Christ. Martyrs are made in the Christian tradition by dying for the Faith. While it is true, zealous early Christians in the patristic era desired to run headlong into martyrdom and seek it out and achieve the crown early, it is more the case that martyrdom finds us, not that we go looking for it.

We see a kind of cheap and easy posturing among Christians today for political purposes, to make political statements--whether it's blacking out a social media profile or holding signs in protest. But to lay down one's life for their friends, as Christ did--I don't think this is a step many are willing to take in the current climate for political change. The zealots in the first century desired to see Christ leveraged for this purpose as well, but the Savior made it clear that His kingdom was not of this world.  "Then they gathered around him and asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:6-8)

We cannot discount the political, as we are political animals. We cannot even discount either the dying for political purposes--that is, those in the armed forces, police, etc--for the preservation of the nation-state. But acts of self-immolation for the Christian are reserved for the subjection of the will, not the ultimate destruction of the body in suicide, and for the spiritual, not the political.

Because the body is sacred, we do not destroy it of our own volition, especially not for the temporal or political. Christ's sacrifice on the Cross was for our sanctification, out of true love for us--not to make a political statement or to exact political change. He did not rage against the machine (the Roman Empire), but set the example for us of immolation of his life so that we might gain Heaven which is beyond this-or-that temporal regime.

We should reserve our deaths for what counts, since we only have one life in this world. We cannot live apart from the political, but we cannot and should not die apart from the spiritual.

Don't Fear The Heart

I think there is a tendency for men to eschew the heart in favor of the mind, because the heart has feminine connotations. "The heart of the home," "I feel in my heart," etc. Men hold aloft great intellects, great minds, but the heart makes us...squirmy. We're afraid if we talk about it too much we might end up like a Henri Nouwen or something.

The heart goes beyond feelings and intuitions, though. The Dominican Fr. Thomas Joseph White said that the “heart and intelligence go together. The mind is reason’s instrument, but the heart its seat.” We know that to love is to will the good of another. We don't simply send "positive thoughts and prayers," but exercise love concretely in acts.

'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind" our Lord exhorts us in Mt 22:37. Love him with all your heart. Love him with all your soul. Love him with all your mind.

Being human is an exercise in synthesis. We are not all heart, or all mind, or all soul, but all things through the one who created us. We have a skeleton to hold up the body and give us form (right doctrine); we have blood to carry oxygen to our organs (prayer); we have muscles (the will); we have organs themselves that all serve a function for the body (gifts of the Holy Spirit); we have a brain, but beyond the physical organ, the metaphysical--the mind; we have a soul. To be human is one of the most remarkable things, the crowning achievement of God's creation.

One should have a lifetime of contemplations in the Incarnation of Christ, and never run dry. For the God of the Universe to take on flesh, to be given a human heart, a mind, and to debase himself to function as we do: eating food, using the latrine, needing sleep. To have infinite love for man constrained by skin. When his heart was pierced by a lance, it could not help but gush forth the life within it.

"I will give them a new heart," says the Lord God. (Ez 36:26). On this Feast of the Sacred Heart, we must learn how to love as our Savior loved. He died for all men and all women. He lived as a man, but embodied the tenderness of a mother (Mt 23:37) and the strong protection of a father (Jn 2:13-16). He was both strong and tender, unafraid to weep when moved by emotion (Jn 11:35) but stoic in the face of temptation (Mt 4:1-11).

It is not effeminate to feel, to be bruised, to make oneself vulnerable, anymore than it is not too masculine to use logic and reason to temper emotionalism. It is a healthy, whole human being who can embody heart, mind, and soul and direct it to love of God and neighbor.

The Sacred Heart teaches us to temper a cold, removed intellectualism--of doing "all the right things" like the older brother--with the love of a father rejoicing over his lost son who has been found. It sheds its cloak and runs undignified out to meet him in order to forget all things. It embraces and slaughters with abandon, it cloaks and hides faults in itself. This heart burns with love, in order that all men be drawn to himself (Jn 12:32). It sears everything it touches.

When we learn to love as Jesus loved, when we conform our heart and model it on the Sacred Heart, we find soon that such love cannot be contained. It must go out from itself, be pierced, and drench the ones who foist the lance with the blood and water of redemptive love. It must love. It can do no other.

In Desperate Need Of A Friend

Each morning my wife and I have been praying and reading Carmelite meditations on the interior life. Since the Feast of Corpus Christi, the meditations have been focused on the Real Presence and the Eucharist miracle.

It was on Monday early this week that I realized the little chapel near us--a historic mission church, the oldest in our state--had Perpetual Adoration on Mondays. We had just gotten home from the beach that day, where we were blessed with the opportunity to have a similar kind of "mission Mass" at the home of a couple downstate in the country on Sunday not unlike this first mission near our house that was started at a family's home in the 18th century. A priest came to offer Mass and a handful of faithful families attended. It was good to be around our people, and we had a potluck afterwards as the kids ran around teasing the sheep in the adjacent field. The weekend prior I was in St. Louis and got to attend High Mass three days in a row for First Friday, First Saturday, and Trinity Sunday at the magnificent St. Francis de Sale Oratory. I felt spoiled almost, this being the first time since the pandemic I had been able to freely attend Mass. Whether we are in a magnificent cathedral or worshiping with other families on a sheep farm, Jesus is truly present in the most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar.

But it had been months since I was able to go to Adoration, and I wasn't sure what to expect. Would the chapel be overflowing with people who had so desperately missed being near our Lord and able to gaze on His Face that there would be no available pews? Would parking be an issue? Surely the months of being separated from Him physically would have created in people a hunger for spiritual bread with the need to be sated.

I should have laughed at my idealism. When I arrived at the small chapel, it was completely empty save for one woman in a pew. I entered through the back, and dropped to both knees at the sight of the Lord in the monstrance on the altar. I took a seat in a pew where I would spend the next hour.

Adoration is my favorite type of prayer, because I am not scripted by nature. To be able to be myself, with all my sighing and gesticulations and to be able to collapse and be myself before the Lord of Hosts is a great source of comfort. When I lived in Philly and would visit the Lord in Adoration in my poverty of spirit, I would lie on the pew, though completely undignified, since I would spend sometimes the better half of a day there. I was once taken for a vagrant. "I look at him, He looks at me," as St. John Vianney recalled a peasant telling him. This is the essence of Eucharistic Adoration, distilled.

When the only other person present left after about twenty minutes and I was now alone in the church, I moved to the Prie Dieu near the altar, a few feet from the Lord, to get closer to him. I couldn't believe the privilege--a private audience with the King of Kings, undisturbed before His Majesty, with no one around or waiting even to take my place.

And then I became sad thinking of the Lord left alone were I not there.

For more than three months, we have hardly had access to the sacraments apart from a few exceptions. Where are all the people? After the French Revolution had gutted the life of faith in France in the 18th and 19th century, the Cure d'Ars upon arriving in his new assignment found the little church "cold and empty as the hearts of the worshipers." Has the pandemic made our hearts cold? Fearful? Has Satan sifted us even now? Even after taking for granted what we have had for so long within our means, there was no line to get in the church, no overflow or standing-room-only. I was alone in a church with the Lord in his poverty.

As a newly assigned parish priest, St. Manuel González García dreamed of how welcoming and communal the experience of being a pastor on his first assignment would be, “of having a Church full of souls eager to listen to his sermons, of people fervently praying the Rosary with him each day, and of organizing a beautiful procession in the streets. He pictured crowds hastening to Sunday Mass.”

The reality when he arrived, was a Church poorly attended, where only those getting married or baptizing their children came, and a population that was not a community, but a cluster of human beings who worked side by side, and never invested in the Church or each other. The building itself was dirty, almost abandoned, and the altar cloths torn and burnt. The neglect included the tabernacle covered in dust and cobwebs. He considered begging for a different assignment, fleeing. He wondered how he could fulfil a mission, any mission in such a place, but kneeling before the tabernacle, pondering how impossible the task before him, he felt someone looking at him “in desperate need of a friend.”

He writes,

"The Evangelists are the ones who taught me the word “abandonment.” I decided to use this word, not to speak of the hatred, envy, or persecution of the enemies of Jesus, but rather in reference to the disloyalty, coldness, ingratitude, inconstancy, insensitivity, indelicacy, and cowardice that Jesus experiences from his friends. This leaving him at the moment when they should all have been with him, this failure to assist him with their presence and their unconditional loyalty when he needed it most is what the Evangelists call abandonment and flight. “And they all forsook him, and fled” (Mark 14:50). 

There are two ways in which the tabernacle is abandoned. One, exterior: the habitual and voluntary absence of Catholics who know Jesus but do not visit him. I am not speaking of unbelievers, or of the irreligious, or of uncatechized Catholics, from whom Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament will feel persecuted, hated, slandered, or unrecognized, rather than abandoned. I am speaking of Catholics who believe and know that Our Lord Jesus Christ, true God and true Man is really present and alive in the Blessed Sacrament. But they do not receive him in Holy Communion, nor visit him, nor have a friendly relationship with him—even though they live close to a Church, and otherwise have time and energy for recreational activities. 

The second way is by interior abandonment. It is to go to him but not to really be with him. It is to receive him with the body, but not with the heart. It is to go to him saying words, bowing our heads, kneeling down, but not performing these acts of piety with our hearts. It is when we do not meditate on what we are receiving. It is when we do not prepare ourselves to receive him with a clean heart and with great spiritual hunger. It is when we do not taste and give thanks for the Food we have received. It is when we do not talk to or listen to the Guest who is visiting us. It is when we are not open to receive and keep the graces he brings us, the warnings he gives us, the example he teaches us, the desires he reveals to us, the love he shares with us. How many times will the Master have to repeat to some communicants and visitors to the Blessed Sacrament: “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Mt 15:8). 

Jesus, alone, abandoned in the hearts of his friends! Jesus visits souls and lives in the “homes” of his friends (through Holy Communion) without being understood or listened to or assisted or asked his opinion or even taken into account! This interior abandonment is repeated in alarmingly great proportions."

The empty church, the foot of the cross at his death, the garden in which he sweat drops of blood--these are the places his friends go to meet him. The masses jeer before his trial and drop branches of palms upon his entry into Jerusalem and are nowhere to be found in his hour of need. And yet for these masses He came too, longing to gather them under his wings..."and you were not willing" (Mt 23:37).

Will the many be saved? How few the saved. How empty the churches when men's heart grow cold in those last days. It is these moments when I am alone with the Lord offering this small gift of an hour when I cannot hide anything, that I recognize my own poverty. I have nothing to bring, nothing to give, but a contrite heart and a broken spirit.

We must console the heart of Jesus. Our audience before the Lord is an unspeakable privilege, one that we even now can do at all hours and days. If we cannot, we can make a tabernacle for him in our hearts upon receiving Holy Communion--room at the inn for him to dwell in our impoverishment. We can come to him, see him, whenever we want. And yet we don't. We find something of more importance. But "The time is coming when you will long to see one of the days of the Son of Man, but you will not see it" (Lk 17:22). Go while you can, to sit at his feet, to learn his commands, to listen in the privileged silence of empty churches and neglected tabernacles. Console him while he is still able to be found.

The Church Will Hurt You

If there's any spectre that haunts me to my core, that fills me with a putrid horror and an unspeakable sadness, it is the act of apostasy.

Lucifer fell from Heaven, and he is working overtime to bring down as many people from the ladder of divine ascent with him as possible.

In "Apostasy And The Casualties Of War" I wrote:

"I was thinking about apostasy, the spectre that seems to hide in every closet, every corner, under every lampstand I encounter these days. The smell is nauseating and unnerving; it gets in your clothes like cigarette smoke. Faith in this age is under siege, and I'm not even talking about the collective faith of Catholics or Christians in America; in the heart of each and every man, his faith is under fire. Someone or something is seeking to wrench it from his being, cause him to lose heart or strip him of faith or consolation, hope and fortitude. My buddies and people I know are lying all around me, getting picked off by snipers, getting legs blown off, getting mowed down by machine guns, losing their souls one skipped prayer, one missed Mass, one self-justifying excuse, one innocent click at a time.  

Why do people abandon the Faith? Who will endure to the end? Is it just a matter of time before I join their ranks? Will I lose my children to the age? A friend of mine, a once faithful Catholic and family man, stopped going to Mass. Family members too. People experiencing loss and suffering, instead of doubling down and tying themselves to the mast, gradually stop praying altogether and simply drift away or run aground. For some it's a sin they can't let go of, or a past, or a trauma, or a hurt, or a betrayal, or seeing too much of how the sausage is made. For some it's the old question of why bad things happen to 'good people,' or why God would allow someone they love to suffer, or some earnest but unanswered prayers. I feel like the guys to my left and to my right and in front of me and behind me are just being shredded by machine gun fire, and whose to say I'm not next, my family, my children."

This evening I stumbled across a public post of a couple leaving the Catholic Church. As I read it, I picked up on a similar theme and common thread to the public posts of other Christian apostates. Joshua Harris--who wrote the best-seller "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" (which I read in college)--made a public announcement on his Instagram account:

"My heart is full of gratitude. I wish you could see all the messages people sent me after the announcement of my divorce. They are expressions of love though they are saddened or even strongly disapprove of the decision.⁣⁣ 

⁣⁣ I am learning that no group has the market cornered on grace. This week I’ve received grace from Christians, atheists, evangelicals, exvangelicals, straight people, LGBTQ people, and everyone in-between. Of course there have also been strong words of rebuke from religious people. While not always pleasant, I know they are seeking to love me. (There have also been spiteful, hateful comments that angered and hurt me.)⁣⁣ 

⁣⁣ The information that was left out of our announcement is that I have undergone a massive shift in regard to my faith in Jesus. The popular phrase for this is “deconstruction,” the biblical phrase is “falling away.” By all the measurements that I have for defining a Christian, I am not a Christian. Many people tell me that there is a different way to practice faith and I want to remain open to this, but I’m not there now.⁣⁣ 

⁣⁣ Martin Luther said that the entire life of believers should be repentance. There’s beauty in that sentiment regardless of your view of God. I have lived in repentance for the past several years—repenting of my self-righteousness, my fear-based approach to life, the teaching of my books, my views of women in the church, and my approach to parenting to name a few. But I specifically want to add to this list now: to the LGBTQ+ community, I want to say that I am sorry for the views that I taught in my books and as a pastor regarding sexuality. I regret standing against marriage equality, for not affirming you and your place in the church, and for any ways that my writing and speaking contributed to a culture of exclusion and bigotry. I hope you can forgive me.⁣⁣ 

⁣⁣ To my Christians friends, I am grateful for your prayers. Don’t take it personally if I don’t immediately return calls. I can’t join in your mourning. I don’t view this moment negatively. I feel very much alive, and awake, and surprisingly hopeful. I believe with my sister Julian that, “All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”"

Another popular Christian band singer:

"I’ve been terrified to post this for a while-- but it feels like it’s time for me to be honest. "After growing up in a Christian home, being a pastor’s kid, playing and singing in a Christian band, and having the word ‘Christian’ in front of most of the things in my life — I am now finding that I no longer believe in God."

And a long time listener of a Christian radio ministry:

“Over many years I have been blessed to receive free tapes, CDs, and books from your ministry. Thank you. At those times, I really appreciated them. Now I no longer believe in the God of the Bible or in Jesus Christ. Ten years of full-time ministry proved to me that there is no God, and that the God of the Bible does not care. I now reject Christianity and have come to peace.

“What was at first a great loss has now turned to joy, peace, and freedom. I did not leave the faith because of some extreme sin. I left because the God of the Bible, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit are all a fantasy. I’m happy I now live in the real world. I only feel guilt about the many people whom I led to Christ and exposed them to the lies of Christianity. I’m not mad at Christians; I’m not mad at you. However, I am mad at myself for not being a more critical thinker. I won’t make this mistake again.

“Again, thank you for the many years of help and teaching you all shared with me. I do appreciate what you all are trying to do with the knowledge you have. Please remove me from your mailing list. Save the money, don’t waste it on an apostate like me. I was just giving your CDs away. But now my conscience no longer can tolerate the further spread of a false hope and disappointment."


As someone who has had periods of having to fight tooth and nail to stay alive by my own hand during periods in which death seemed a welcome respite, I see a few things worth noting in the loss of faith (spiritual suicide) and the loss of life by one's own hand (actual suicide).

There comes a point when one considers leaving this world; when the pain, darkness, and tumult reach fever pitch--where everything becomes quiet and calm, like the eye of a hurricane. When the salesman of death shows up at the door with his offer, the fog kind of clears and a lucidity sets in. "I could really do this. All this could go away." Yes, he affirms, and hands you a razor blade. When the end is near, the light at the end of the tunnel comes into view, there's a kind of false peace and enchantment as one considers the possibilities of a world in which hurt no longer exists.

Of course it is all a lie. The Devil sells lemons. As soon as the check is cashed he is no where to be found. Until its times to collect the collateral, which is your soul.

But here's what happens and what it looks like:

"Stage 3 (the final stage) begins when the suicidal person makes the decision to suicide. The moment the decision is made, it goes “unconscious” and the person goes on what we call “auto-pilot.” People in Stage 3 are imminently lethal; however, they seem more “normal” than they have seemed in a long time. At this point, the depression seems to suddenly lift because the person has made the decision to die and is no longer wrestling with the decision. Unfortunately, most mental health professionals and family members are not trained to recognize “auto-pilot,” and they breathe a sigh of relief because their patient seems so much better, not realizing that he/she is on a collision course with suicide. People on “auto-pilot” typically attempt suicide within the next 48 hours. Be alert when a depressed patient who doesn’t seem to improve after months of intervention suddenly seems to get better. Instead of relaxing, we should become more vigilant when we see a sudden, overnight improvement. We should listen closely to any indication that the individual has decided to end their life and mobilize support among family, friends, and medical/behavioral health providers."

Like those in the wake of suicide--those badly shaken family and friends--the desire to know "Why?" is both overpowering and natural. We want a reason, to make sense of things, since we were robbed of that sense by a senseless act. The most unnerving thing, the existential Doubt, though, comes when we realize that sometimes, there is no reason, nothing to pin the tail on. This shakes us to our core. We build houses, take shelter, because we were not meant to live out of doors as civilized people. And suddenly we are in the great plains under expansive skies, with nary a blanket to shield us from Nature herself in all her terrible glory.

Whether or not one can point to this or that, one thing is undeniable: the Devil has gotten what he came for, what he exists for. He exists to draw men from the Way, the Truth, the Light. He throws a blanket of darkness over our shoulders and wraps us tightly. And he often disguises himself as an angel of light to do it so that we don't smell the sulfur.

Like divorce, or a metastasized cancer, the warning signs often come too late. Those "perfect couples" that seem to have it all together and then the next thing you know they are sharing their little "announcement" of parting ways.

What the hell is going on behind closed doors? Sometimes, its true--it's not a heinous sin, or a betrayal--it could be boredom, or a desire for something new, or just an unwillingness to try (to fight even!) anymore.

For anyone who gets news like this from close friends--of suicide, of divorce, of apostasy--it can shake you pretty good. Because, if them...why not you?

After all, they may have gone to church every Sunday, prayed together as a family, did "all the right things" and still find themselves as newly minted apostates (by their own admission) outside the Ark. But there is that false-lucidity: "My heart is full of gratitude," "I'm waking up to reality," "We've found peace," Etc.

I could understand if one was leaving a cult, the sense of relief. But the Church--the Bride of Christ--is not a cult.

In reading this particular public profession of leaving the Church that I had stumbled upon, someone made a comment and mentioned that the best piece of advice he had gotten as a new convert was a jarring, almost cryptic statement from a priest: "The Church Will Hurt You." As a new convert, I remember going to Mass in spite of those around me, not because of them. Not that I had anything against my fellow men, my fellow Catholics, but they weren't the raison d'etre. I think that perspective has helped shield me in some ways from disappointment and betrayal, because I always just kind of expected it.

Something else I think the Lord, in His Providence, shielded me from by slamming doors in my face, is never having worked for the Church. It wasn't for lack of trying. I got a Masters in Theology so I could serve the Church in some capacity. I applied for jobs in Youth Ministry--nada. Campus Ministry--"we've gone with someone else." Director of Faith Formation--thank you for your interest. I didn't even realize at the time what He was preserving me from, by grace. But it may have just saved by faith, by grace. I like sausage--then again, I don't work in a sausage factory.

The Church will hurt you. Whether you live in an intentional community, whether you're a Trad or a Charismatic, a Catholic or a Christian, a homeschooling parent of many and a picture perfect believer--you will at some point get disillusioned. "Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save." (Ps 146:3). You have to believe and fight for your belief with tooth and nail, you have to be a stubborn S.O.B., a dumb ox almost, a Rottweiler with a stick that refuses to let go. "It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in humans." (Ps 118:8)

It may very well be a mystery why people defect from the Ark while claiming they are so much happier and more at peace with their new lives and newly-affirming host of non-judgers. But there is no lasting peace apart from Christ. Divorce from the Bride--the Church--is a tragedy of eternal consequence. It shakes believers--the ones who have also been betrayed by such flagrant, self-assured apostasy--to the core, as much as good friends getting divorced after thirty years of marriage do. Satan is having his field day. He has been given the reins. The only thing you can do is tie yourself to that mast, and

Don't

Let

Go.

Be Not Ye Damned

A few days ago a friend called me because he wanted to talk about belief. We got reacquainted after his daughter began asking the "big questions" about faith and religion, questions to which he did not have answers. Although he was raised in a mainline Protestant denomination, when I asked him where he and his family worshiped he said they did not currently attend church.

I tend to tread somewhat slowly and carefully in speaking with people who have a natural curiosity about faith and religion, specifically Christianity and more specifically, Catholicism. After discussing some commonalities, and me sharing some of the basic tenants of Christian belief--which he wasn't unfamiliar with--the issue of baptism came up.

He confessed his struggle to reconcile how those in far parts of the world who, through no fault of their own had not been exposed to the teachings of Christ, could be damned. He also admitted to disagreeing when I stated that baptism is what grafts us into God's family, and that it is necessary for salvation. I said that Christian missionaries throughout history left homeland, comfort, and security to carry out the Great Commission--the command (not suggestion) of Christ to "go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit" (Mt 28:19); that "No one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit, and that "Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved" (Mk 16:16). While stressing that God is not bound by the Sacraments and can save whomever He wishes, I also said as clearly as I could so there was no mistaking its importance: "Baptism is necessary for salvation."

In the Catholic faith, the sacraments are efficacious and act ex opere operato ("by the work worked"). "From the moment that a sacrament is celebrated in accordance with the intention of the Church, the power of Christ and his Spirit acts in and through it, independently of the personal holiness of the minister. Nevertheless, the fruits of the sacraments also depend on the disposition of the one who receives them." (CCC 1128) This is why we baptize infants, much to the dismay and/or consternation of Protestants who stress the "personal affirmation of faith."

But baptism confers real grace. You cannot be saved without it, and you are wholly hindered in the battle against the forces of darkness without that grace.

As I tried to expound on the relationship to the internal modus of belief and the external witness of water baptism (exemplified in the words of Jesus to Nicodemus that one must be born again--that is, born of water and the spirit (Jn 3:3, 5), it was the nature of water that came to mind:

"When you come to belief," I told him, "you are transformed so that you are a new creation in Christ. The old man is left behind and you are an entirely new man. This is the response of the will moved by grace.

"But this belief is made manifest explicitly in baptism--you are not longer sitting dry on land, but you are immersed. You cannot be "a little wet" in such a state. You are either wet, or dry. Baptism leaves an indelible mark on the soul, which can never be erased or undone."

Ven. Fulton Sheen makes this point as well when he says "Water very often is the natural boundary between city and city, state and state, nation and nation, continent and continent, tribe and tribe. Those who live on one side of water are “separated” from those who live on the other. In the early days, before rapid communication, it was a dramatic experience to pass from one territory to another. This symbolism, therefore, was well fitted for the Divine Master to indicate the separation of the Christian from the world, as the water which was divided in the Red Sea, was a symbol of the separation of Israel from the slavery of Egypt."

When I go into the local prison to share the Good News I always make it clear, in no uncertain terms:

REPENT AND BE BAPTIZED

BAPTISM IS NECESSARY FOR SALVATION

FOR YOU KNOW NOT THE HOUR OF YOUR DEATH

I tell the men there every time, in case they think it unimportant or ancillary. You want to be a new man? You want to resist the devil? You had better repent. And you had better get baptized.

We have our little photo ops and family luncheons when children are baptized. But in many parts of the world, (adult) baptism marks an intentional grafting from one family to another, and, often, a complete severing. Baptism is the outward sign of this inward severing from sin and death that has very real repercussions. For what believer would profess Christ and refuse to be baptized? Some may for fear of reprisal, but even that drives home the point that it is significant and a definitive crossing of a line in the sand. It is the mark of a Christian, a true believer and follower of Christ.

The gifts the Spirit pours out makes the impossible, possible--unattainable forgiveness, unexplainable miracles, supernatural faith, and yes, love. One Islamic leader stated at a large conference of Muslim clerics "Do not allow your people to have close contact with Christians because if you do the Christians will love your people into their faith."

In Baptism, the Holy Spirit makes his home in a man. "Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit" (Acts 2:38). When one receives the Holy Spirit, he then has, by grace, the opportunity to be moved by the Spirit. "But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth; for He will not speak on His own initiative, but whatever He hears, He will speak; and He will disclose to you what is to come" (Jn 16:13).

Laugh Your Way To Heaven

My wife told me once about a friend of hers who had gotten a new Mini Cooper. After fifteen or twenty thousand miles she took it into the mechanic when it was making a funny noise. "When was the last time you had an oil change?" he asked. "What's an oil change?" she replied. Lesson learned.

A car runs on gasoline, but it won't run long without oil for the engine. Humor is the oil that lubricates the cylinders, keeps things running efficiently, and keeps the engine from overheating. Both my wife and I had our "lists" prior to getting engaged of what we were looking for in a potential spouse.

But it wasn't until about half way through our marriage that I realized that I had neglected to include a sense of humor on the list. It has proven, in fact, to be one of the top three things I appreciate about my wife. I'd also venture to say, it is an important part to marriage as a whole. Thankfully, as I found out not too longer into dating, my wife has a good sense of humor.

Another underestimated thing is liking your spouse. Anyone can will themselves to love another, but liking spending time with them and being around them--that's not always a natural occurrence. So, if you like your spouse and like being around them, count yourself blessed, since not everyone does.

The thing is, if you can laugh together, you will usually like being around one another too, so the two compliment one another and make your marriage not only easier, but more enjoyable. Laughing with your partner, though--who probably knows you better than anyone--starts with being able to laugh at yourself.

Being able to laugh in a marriage, especially during times of stress and tension, is like a bleed valve on a boiler that prevents explosions. In "letting off steam" with a hearty guffaw at one's own expense can break tension in a healthy way and stave off blowups.

Knowing how to playfully poke fun without hurting feelings, can be a discerning art, though. We always have to act in love, even in jest, and respect our spouses feelings and those hidden parts which might be regarded as "no-go" zones. But self-deprecation can be disarming--its why comedians always lead with it. Hey, if I can laugh at me, I give you permission too. If I'm laughing and you're laughing--well, let's all have a laugh. “He who dwells in Heaven is laughing at their threats; the Lord makes light of them” (Ps. 2:4)

Humor should be tasteful, though, always gentle and mindful. Essentially, it comes down to not taking things too seriously. As the great St. Philip Neri noted, “Nothing in this world is to be taken seriously, nothing except the salvation of a soul.” When Heaven is your goal, everything else falls into its proper place as, ultimately, not that important in the grand scheme of things.

My wife knows all my nonsense, my idiosyncrasies and neurosis. I know what of hers I can laugh at as well. When we laugh together (often at each other), it's often followed by some hand holding or a reconciling if we have been fighting.

I don't know if you can teach humor, as in having a sense of one, but if you just remember not to take things too seriously, not wear the dour expressions of a pharisee, and be okay with making fun of yourself from time to time (and inviting your spouse to as well), you may just get a good bit of mileage out of your marriage.