More Thoughts On A 'Third Way' of Christian Discipleship

 I will be joining Eric Sammons tomorrow on his Crisis Point podcast to speak a little about my book but also to discuss my post "The Third Way" and the idea behind it. Since I haven't really articulated in note form what I want to talk about in the interview, I figured I would do so here.

2/9/24 EDIT: The podcast is live and can be streamed here. It took a little bit of a different direction than what I had prepared for here, but turned out to be a good discussion in a different way.

1) So, what is this "third way" of discipleship and how did you start thinking about this?

I wrote an essay five years ago titled "Tradition and Charity: The Face of Renewal" when we first started attending the Traditional Latin Mass as a family, and I've been thinking about the topic ever since. In that essay I wrote:

I think there is a tendency, in the age of identity politics, to delineate into false dichotomies. Those less traditionally minded--as seen in liberal churches, Catholic or Protestant--may compensate by being more active in parish activities, service, and social justice initiatives, while traditionalists are all about the Mass and not as concerned with those other things. I consider myself and my family more as guests in someone's house at this point when it comes to the Latin Mass community, so I don't feel like I have any right to make such judgments about a community that is not yet our own. But I will say one of the most important things, one of the primary motivators besides an integrity in worship and learning to subject my ego to Almighty God, is that we pass on the faith to our children, and I feel that the TLM community is the best place to try to do this in. 

On the point of charity, and why I think traditionalism combined with charity has the potential to be an unstoppable force for renewal...it wasn't until listening to a conference of Fr. Ripperger's that I realized that the 'love' in 1 Cor 13 is really more accurately translated as charity. I considered that kind invitation to attend a Latin Mass by that friend of a friend as an act of charity. I had until then considered the Latin Mass community to be more or less insular and an island of sorts by choice, not open to outsiders. All it took was an invitation to get us there, a kind of gentle and innocuous evangelization in its ordinariness. Coffee and donuts as a way of connecting with other families and homeschoolers once a month was an added bonus.

Coming from a more left-leaning Catholicism in my early years as a Catholic, serving the poor was an important part of my spiritual practice and faith, one that I have no intention of abandoning. I also do not want to fall into the trap of denigrating or comparing Masses or the people that attend them; though we have made the decision to attend the Latin Mass when we are able (which is most Sundays) because we feel this is where God is leading us as a family, I still attend the NO for daily Mass and have no qualms with it (unless there are serious liturgical abuses). I'm a "both/and" rather than an "either/or" guy at heart, I think, and this applies as much liturgically as it does to charity and service to the poor, evangelization, practicing the Works of Mercy, and loving people.

When it comes to loving, we love because He first loved us (1 Jn 4:19). The greatest commandment, the "Big Stone First", is to love the Lord God with everything we have. And yet we also see in 1 John that

Those who say, “I love God,” and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also. (1 Jn 4:20-21)

So really a "third way" of Catholic Traditionalism is really Catholic Essentialism: taking the best of the best in worship and charity--since on this the two Commandments rest--in a "both/and" spirit (versus a kind of "either/or" false dichotomy). What I am calling "Third Way" Traditionalism is one kind of "complete protein": of prayer and action, worship and praxis, to make sure we are not just Christian believers or those who worship, but true disciples of Jesus Christ. 

 

2) What does this "third way" have to do with the Traditional Latin Mass and traditional Catholicism?

As I mentioned, I'm really a guest here, and I consider myself more or less trad-adjacent, rather than a true died-in-the-wool traditionalist. Our family attends the TLM exclusively, my son serves, my wife and daughter veil, yadayada but this is relatively recent for us in the past five years and I'm not about to tell trads what they should and shouldn't be doing. Maybe it is because I am an evangelist at heart, that I see this great potential for renewal in the Church with the rise of the TLM as a locus of authentic and reverent worship, a worthy vessel to bring people into the Church and experience the awe and majesty of God and what Catholicism really is. The TLM already does this effectively in a way in-bound marketing does: it draws you in and piques your curiosity, but doesn't pound you with ads or outbound marketing the way, as Shia LaBeouf mentioned in his interview with Bishop Barron, "it's not trying to sell you anything" [the way the Novus Ordo does]. If Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi is true (and it is), then we have a great foundation in the traditional Mass for building a faith on a solid rock of worship. But it can't end there. There's also that pesky second commandment our Lord slips in there. 

3) What do you see as the issues in traditional and more status-quo/mainstream Catholic communities today, respectively? Where are the blind spots or opportunities for growth for each?

The issues in your standard, down-the-street suburban Novus Ordo parish are pretty ubiquitous: you have these pockets of sometimes great devotion, prayer and piety among individual parishoners, but it's often in spite of, not because of, the parish environment. I don't want to speak for all people in this situation, but for me that was the case: it always felt like swimming up stream, fighting the parish current, to carve out a solid prayer life and something that went beyond the status-quo cultural norms of the N.O. and the particular parishes we belonged to; we felt like outliers, "extreme" religious, like we couldn't relate to people at the parish. So, I think there's this low-bar in many of these parishes that doesn't push people to grow spiritually outside the prescribed parish programs or proscriptions; these parishes can at the same time be very "active" replete with ministries, service to the needy, activities for seniors and retirees to get involved with and stay busy, and doing good things. 

So, when traditionalists see this stuff, there's kind of this pendulum reaction that anything associated with the Novus Ordo is suspect, and so the good things get thrown out with the bad. Like service to the poor and other acts of corporal charity, which of course is not "only" for your standard Novus Ordo parish and is not necessarily the stuff of SJWs.  The thing is, at least at our parish, we don't have a ton of these lay-led "programs" and I think that's a good thing. We have solid liturgy, good music, and an organic sense of community. But we shouldn't think either we are exempt from the work of discipleship, the works of charity and mercy, both corporal and spiritual. We are quick to signal to others that we are "trads" by what we wear, what we hold, how we pray, etc. But we should be more apt to show that we are Christians by how we love. For that's where converts come from.

4) You mention in some of your writings that you prefer to answer "I am a disciple of Jesus Christ" rather than "I am a Catholic" when asked about your religious faith, even though you are a Catholic. Why is that?

It's strange, isn't it, that we have to qualify everything today. Even though I'm more aligned in every aspect with traditional Catholicism, I'm still hesitant to refer to myself as a "trad" or "traditional Catholic." Because although I have been so thoroughly edified by the patrimony of the Church, which I have only been recently been introduced to and which I feel was withheld from me for 20 years as a Catholic since I came into the Church, I still feel there is this identity-thing, this tribe thing that is such a temptation to hold on to. But referring to oneself as "a Catholic" is a very broad term as well: well, what kind of Catholic are you? Are you a 'born-and-raised K-12 Catholic school but don't really believe any of that stuff' Catholic? Are you a Catholic on account of your cultural heritage (Mexican, Filipino, Irish, etc)? 

All that stuff is kind of ancillary as far as I'm concerned. God calls us not just to belief but to work, because Christ is our Master. And there's a lot of work to be done to rebuild and renew the Church, help save the lost, exercise charity, instruct the ignorant. A disciple is under a Master, and I feel that that is where I want my focus more than being a card-carrying member of a country club, or a member of a certain sect or tribe.   

5) What are some of the benefits for evangelization of the Traditional Latin Mass, and what makes it harder in other ways?

This was actually a struggle for me when I was doing street evangelization back in 2018, and it can really be a mixed-bag if you get someone interested in becoming Catholic, but it's like "where do you send them?" There's so many wacky RCIA programs, so many beige and uninspiring churches--not just the architecture, but the parishoners themselves--that makes you feel reticent to send a baby believer there.  Now, I know grace works anywhere God gives it, but for me that was part of the impetus of wanting to raise my family in a more liturgically stable environment, where you didn't have this anxiety about "what is the priest going to do today?" or "what are we walking into here?" When you love something, you want everyone to know about it, and that's how I feel about the TLM. The Mass is perfect, but we are not, and we need to accept that. But I still think it highlights Catholicism in it's truest expression, but needs to go beyond the liturgy and outside the walls of the church--to make saints. 

6) Do you consider yourself a Traditionalist? If so, why; and if no, why not?

I consider these labels a kind of necessary evil, and don't particular like them but it is what it is. Personally, I consider a true traditionalist someone who has a line in the sand, and I know many people like this who will not attend the Novus Ordo under any circumstances. In that sense, I do not consider myself a traditionalist because I will occasionally go to a daily N.O. Mass on campus on my lunch break, although I have not attended a Sunday N.O. in five years. I will drive 2 hours to find a Latin Mass if we are traveling rather than go to the local N.O. parish ten minutes away, but it's not because I think it's invalid or harmful to my faith. I was saved in the N.O., raised up in the N.O., and experienced grace in the N.O. So God can do what He wants, save whom He wants, use what He wants to accomplish that task. I will take grace wherever I can get it, even if I do personally feel more edified and that the Traditional Latin Mass is objectively "better" in every way than the Novus Ordo Missae. 

7) What do you mean when you speak of the traditional faith needing charity in order to be a "complete protein"? 

Matthew 22 and Matthew 25 are really the benchmarks for me in my spiritual life. It is there where Jesus distills the Decalogue into the Two Great Commandments--love God, love neighbor; and where he gives us a warning of how we will be judged by Him: on our charity. And that should fill us with fear. We will not be judged on which Mass we attend, or if we veiled, or that we are devoted to our missals. We will be judged on our love. Those who love God must love their brothers (1 Jn 4:20-21). 

What's so great about Catholicism is that it respects the both/and dimension of things: faith and reason, faith and works, scripture and tradition, fasting and feasting, God's divinity and God's humanity in the hypostatic union. Tradition is the best kept secret in the Church today. But it shouldn't be a secret! But it's not an end in itself. To the extent that it forms us in greater love of God and neighbor, it is doing its job. Otherwise, it's just a resounding gong, as St. Paul says. But when we love God and give him the best first fruits of worship, this sets us on a solid rock to build the house of charity. 

Look at saints like St. Leo the Great and St. Charles Borromeo, just to name a couple. They were high ranking dignitaries and prelates, yet were fully devoted to service to the poor. St. Leo said, "Let us now extend to the poor and those afflicted in different ways a more open-handed generosity, so that God may be thanked through many voices and the relief of the needy supported by our fasting. No act of devotion on the part of the faithful gives God more pleasure than that which is lavished on his poor. Where he finds charity with its loving concern, there he recognizes the reflection of his own fatherly care." And St. Charles during the plague fed tends of thousands of the hungry daily and saw the poor as his teacher.

But charity goes beyond just corporal charity--it is charity of heart, love. Love of God is tatamount, but sometimes trads can be a little....insular. Because it is comfortable to love God and uncomfortable to love people. 

I love the story of St. Aloysius when he came under the spiritual care of St. Robert Bellarmine. When he entered the Jesuits at the age of 17, Aloysius was appointed a spiritual director, St. Robert Bellarmine. Level headed and patient, Bellarmine listened to Aloysius describe his extreme schedule of individual religious practice, then ordered him to cease it. He was assigned instead to work at a local hospital tending to the sick and infirmed. Squeamish, he was repulsed by the work, and he disliked people, which is probably why he was initially inclined to his private devotions and mortifications. When the plague hit Rome in January 1591, the sick and dying were everywhere, overwhelming the hospitals, and Aloysius had to dig deep and draw on that Italian stubbornness and bulldog like willpower to stomach the work.

But in time, a transformation happened by God's grace. Though this was never work he would have chosen for himself, Aloysius began to see Christ in them, similar to St. Francis' encounter with the leper. He experienced compassion for the sick and dying, and often carried them from the streets to the hospital on his back. He contracted the plague as a result, and died June 21st, at the age of 23.

8) Do you get pushback from either more normie-mainstream Catholics or Traditionalists, or both?

I get it from all sides, haha. But I don't care too much. I'm too normie for the trads and too trad for the normies. But that's ok. I just want to love all people, and "be who I am, and be that well" as St. Francis de Sales says. I think it's good we push ourselves, and be honest about our blindspots, so God can make us into saints and we can get to work more effectively.

9) Why even make a "thing" of this? Isn't Traditionalism in its current cultural form enough? 

Well, that's a valid point. I see this "Third Way" between insular Traditionalism and status-quo Catholicism not as a program or an apostolate or even a philosophical school, but just as a consideration on how to worship better, love better, and work better in the Lord's vineyard. I want to live the fullness of the faith, and work out my salvation in fear and trembling, and I can't do that without a solid foundation for worship and without loving my neighbor, which is uncomfortable. To the degree that we take risks for the Lord in love and faith and devotion, I think He will honor that and give us the grace to make up for what we lack. But to the degree that we are content in our little camps, and not doing the work we are called to as disciples, I see that as an issue worth addressing. 

10) What do you see is the role of joy and hope today for both traditionalists and non-traditionalists alike?

People need hope to live, and joy is the icing on the cake. Joy attracts, just like the TLM has this strange in-bound pull effect on people, even non-believers. It's not trying to be what it's not; it's being true to what it is, unapologetically. That's attractive, just as joy is attractive and reflects beauty and God's nature. Hope gives us a reason to work, a reason to live, and faith that things will get better even if that happens after our death. Faith, hope, charity--these three. But the greatest of these is charity. 

11) In your blog post "The Third Way" you linked to two vocational videos: 1 for the Discalced Carmelites and 1 for the CFRs, saying "Both are powerful and moving; both inspire devotion and service to Christ. One order is traditional and contemplative; the other, more charismatic and active. Both are authentically Catholic.". What was the point you were trying to get across with doing that?

Listen, the Catholic Church is a big tent. Not everyone is going to love or be drawn to the TLM. That's just a fact. Our strength is in our diversity of charisms, and that has always been the case in the Church. St. Paul said as much, that an eye is not a hand, etc. The CFRs are solid guys, solid friars. Are they more charismatic? Sure. Does that mean they should be held in suspect by trads? Come on. These guys have a heart for Christ and the poor--would that we be more like them. The Discalced Carmelites in the video, as well, have this ethereal existence so devoted to the liturgy and the hidden lives of being contemplatives. We need both. That's the whole point of what I'm talking about in The Third Way--take the best and leave the filler. Love God. Love your Brothers. Love the poor. Build beautiful churches. Spread the Good News. These things are not at odds. Both/And. Both/And. We can't afford to leave grace on the table, or discount this group or that group because of ideological differences. Come on. Let's get to work. 

If You Want To Get, You Have To Give

 

The past few months I've been feeling especially lonely. Although I'm not one for big groups, I like one:one interactions and connecting with people, both old and new. But it's a busy time of life for everyone, so sometimes these interactions are few and far between. 

As a writer (or rather, "one who writes a lot"), one of my favorite past times is letter writing. Before email, I would write letters to friends from wherever I was traveling in the world, or from home. I have a box full of letters received from people in my life in the attic. But like developing film, it's a past time that has gone by the wayside. I can't remember the last time I got a letter from someone in the mail, or even written one myself. Sometimes I'll get an email correspondence, but even that is getting rarer.  

Then it occurred to me: I was feeling sorry for myself, but it didn't need to stay that way. I could do something about it. So I found a Catholic organization in Texas that connects death row inmates with pen pals. I had corresponded and visited inmates at the state prison years ago, and would go into the county prison before COVID to read the bible to a group of about forty inmates once a month. But they never re opened after COVID, and so I just kind of forgot about it.

The Texas organization never got back to me (I don't know if it's still active), but the Order of Malta also runs a prison pen pal program, and they did respond to my inquiry and set me up with a prison in Montana to write to guys who are incarcerated. I sent off my first letter today to a young man who is doing five years in state prison for assaulting a police officer. I'll share my letter to him below.

Sometimes we think we need to do big things for God; but we often neglect the 'low hanging fruit' that is within our reach. Anybody can write as a corporal work of mercy. You can do it from the comfort of your home, all for the cost of a stamp. When I thought about how nice it might be for me to get a letter in the mail, how much more so for a man who has no family (this man's father is in jail, and his mother was killed) and no freedom? 

I realized that if you want to get grace (or forgiveness, or comfort, or love), sometimes you have to give it too. So that's what I'm doing. Thank you, Lord, for the grace and opportunity!

Dear D___,

How are you? Thanks for corresponding with me, and I hope this letter finds you well. I also wanted to thank you for giving me the opportunity to pray for you, and I hope you will do the same for me. 

Although I have been a Catholic for about twenty five years now, it was not always this way. I came into the Church at the age of eighteen, when God “adopted” me as his son through friendship with Jesus Christ, God’s own Son, when I was alone in the wilderness on a backpacking trip at the age of seventeen. Before that I had led a sinful life with various struggles and did not have peace, joy, or know how I could find the key to happiness. I explored Buddhism, Hare Krishna, and other esoteric religions. But it was God revealing Himself in Christ and in the scriptures (the Bible) that made me realize there was hope for me too, and that it is only in Christ that we are saved, for Jesus, it says in scripture, is “the way, the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6).

I don’t know if you have any religious faith or not, but maybe we can talk about that in future correspondence if you feel comfortable doing so. I did want to share something with you from St. Paul’s letter to the Phillippians, which shows that despite one’s circumstances, the man of God can find peace and freedom. “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength” (Phil 4:11-13). St. Paul was shipwrecked, thrown in prison, beaten, accosted, starved…but he maintained his peace and joy. Because, as he says, “What can separate us from the love of God? For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 38:39). 

What’s interesting is that St. Paul was at first a persecutor of Christians, ordering them to be murdered. But Jesus appeared to him and chose him to spread the Gospel as an Apostle. Moses, likewise, was a murderer who assaulted and killed an Egyptian and was a fugitive on the run after the did. Yet God used him as well. King David was an adulterer and ordered a man to be killed as well. God can use any of us, despite our pasts. As King David prayed to God in the Psalms, “Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” (Ps 51:7). 

Although I am married with three children, God must always come first in a man’s life. Because if he is not right with God, nothing else will fall into place correctly. Just as in recovery, one must turn himself over to a Higher Power (God) and admit he is not in control before sobriety can happen. 

I look forward to writing you in the future if you are able to write back. I will be praying for you as well. St. Dismas (the Good Thief) is a powerful intercessor. Here is a prayer you can pray for grace: 

“Glorious Saint Dismas, you alone of all the great Penitent Saints were directly canonized by Christ Himself; you were assured of a place in Heaven with Him "this day" because of the sincere confession of your sins to Him in the tribunal of Calvary and your true sorrow for them as you hung beside Him in that open confessional; you who by the direct sword thrust of your love and repentance did open the Heart of Jesus in mercy and forgiveness even before the centurion's spear tore it asunder; you whose face was closer to that of Jesus in His last agony, to offer Him a word of comfort, closer even than that of His Beloved Mother, Mary; you who knew so well how to pray, teach me the words to say to Him to gain pardon and the grace of perseverance; and you who are so close to Him now in Heaven, as you were during His last moments on earth, pray to Him for me that I shall never again desert Him, but that at the close of my life I may hear from Him the words He addressed to you: "This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise."

I hope to hear from you soon. 

In Christ,

R

It Is Only For Your Love Alone That The Poor Will Forgive You The Bread You Give Them

This morning some guys and I are going to head downtown to do some homeless outreach and ministry on the streets. This is nothing organized or pre-scripted: to be honest, we're just kind of winging it and praying to be used by the Holy Spirit. Last night my daughter and I made sandwiches and made up some care packages with granola bars, some snacks, toiletries, a Miraculous Medal and Ven Matt Talbot prayer cards. I stuffed the freezer with bottles of water, since it's been in the mid-nineties this week and especially hot and humid. 

I wrote an article recently on some practical ideas of how to practice the works of mercy, both spiritual and corporal. There are many different ways to do this work, and this just compiled a few. What we are doing this morning is pretty basic, but of course goes to our Lord's command in Matthew 25:

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink" (Mt 25:35)

In The Key That Opens The Door To Paradise, I wrote about the act of Perfect Contrition, that is, contrition motivated by the love of God rather than the fear of Hell. From the Catechism:

When it arises from a love by which God is loved above all else, contrition is called “perfect.” Such contrition remits venial sins; it also obtains forgiveness of mortal sins if it includes the firm resolution to have recourse to sacramental confession as soon as possible.

The contrition called “imperfect” is also a gift of God, a prompting of the Holy Spirit. It is born of the consideration of sin’s ugliness or the fear of eternal damnation and the other penalties threatening the sinner. Such a stirring of conscience can initiate an interior process which, under the prompting of grace, will be brought to completion by sacramental absolution. By itself however, imperfect contrition cannot obtain the forgiveness of grave sins, but it disposes one to obtain forgiveness in the sacrament of Penance. (CCC 1452-53), 

What came to me in prayer this morning was that in the act of charity, there is also a kind of perfect and imperfect charity. I imagined that when we arrive on the streets near the train station this morning, walking around with our bags of food and cold water, and are asked, "Why are you doing this? Why are you out there," one could reply in two ways:

"We are doing this because our Lord commanded it." (Mt. 25) "So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, 'We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty. '” (Lk 17:10). And this is a perfectly acceptable way of responding.

But there is also another way, when you encounter someone laying on the street, sweating and hungry, and they ask "Why are you here? Why are you doing this?" to respond:

"Because you are hungry. Because it's hot, and you thirst."

This is the charity motivated not by duty, but by love. When we pray for grace and feel the loneliness, the hunger, the thirst of our brothers and sisters in need, and wish to alleviate that suffering in some small way, this is the motivation of a more perfect charity not bound by duty but by love. We can also only feel it and enter it it when we have felt it ourselves. As St. Mother Teresa observed,

“The greatest disease in the West today is not TB or leprosy; it is being unwanted, unloved, and uncared for. We can cure physical diseases with medicine, but the only cure for loneliness, despair, and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love. The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty -- it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality. There's a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.”

We should remember that in "doing our duty," we are also given the great privilege of grace in service. I want to tell the guys too before we set out, "It's ok to give someone you meet today a hug. Ask their name. Tell them they are loved. It might be awkward, but think about the last time someone may have afforded them such comfort. Be prudent, be careful, but don't harden your heart." 

St. John Chrysostom was known to preach such uncomfortable sermons, not in removed, lofty and theological discourses, but earthy and convicting:

"Do you wish to honor the Body of the Savior? Do not despise him when he is naked. Do not honor him in church with silk vestments while outside he is naked and numb with cold. He who said, “This is my body,” and made it so by his word, is the same that said, “You saw me hungry and you gave me no food. As you did it not to the least of these, you did it not to me.” Honor him then by sharing your property with the poor. For what God needs is not golden chalices but golden souls.

…It is such a slight thing I beg…nothing very expensive…bread, a roof, words of comfort. [If the rewards I promised hold no appeal for you] then show at least a natural compassion when you see me naked, and remember the nakedness I endured for you on the cross…I fasted for you then, and I suffer for you now; I was thirsty when I hung on the cross, and I thirst still in the poor, in both ways to draw you to myself to make you humane for your own salvation." (Homily 50 on Matthew)

And St. Vincent de Paul,

"You will find out that Charity is a heavy burden to carry, heavier than the kettle of soup and the full basket. But you will keep your gentleness and your smile. It is not enough to give soup and bread. This the rich can do. You are the servant of the poor, always smiling and good-humored. They are your masters, terribly sensitive and exacting master you will see. And the uglier and the dirtier they will be, the more unjust and insulting, the more love you must give them. It is only for your love alone that the poor will forgive you the bread you give to them."

I think it's good to "get your hands dirty" in the trenches on the regular if possible, to bring us down from our safe and removed theological perches. Not because we have to (we do), but because we get to. Not because we make any lasting impact, for the "poor you will have with you always;" but because in doing so our hearts soften, become amenable to grace and the realization of our own dependence and wretched state. We also have to remember we are guests in their home, even if that home is the streets. This is where they live, and many have wounds we cannot see from lifetimes of trauma or neglect. We have to tread lightly, respectfully, not as personal messiahs but only as guests doing small things with, hopefully, great love.

 The Lord affords us the opportunity to make sure our faith is not a dead faith, as St. James says, one that manifests in works for our salvation but also in the physical manifestation of the small alleviation of suffering to those in need. It is the practice of mercy that perfects charity, and we can't do that while we remain holed up with our wagons circled in our safe spaces. The work is not for the poor, but for us.

I don't have a script this morning, or a real plan. I'm hoping the Holy Spirit will just guide and protect us, and send those neglected Christs to those whom we are meant to encounter, and that me and the guys too get some training in humility and service in the school of charity. So your prayers are very much appreciated. Thanks in advance. 

Neglected Christs

 

"Remember that the Christian life is one of action; not of speech and daydreams. Let there be few words and many deeds, and let them be done well."

 --St. Vincent Pallotti

In my previous post, I mentioned learning to intentionally structure our daily lives so that we build in "do-nothing" (white) space in order to focus more on 'being' instead of 'doing.' Today may seem like a contradiction to that post, since it focuses on a low-hanging but overlooked segment of potential charity that necessitates action over being. It does piggyback off that previous post, however in the sense that the 'doing' in this case is actually a manifestation of presence/being. If you are "so busy" in your normal life, this is the reason behind training ourselves to intentionally carve out empty space so that it paradoxically may be filled--not with leisure or empty caloric-time, but with the charity we are commanded to exercise.

When we think of "the poor" as a general term, we perhaps imagine a homeless man or woman on the street under dirty blankets asking for handouts. The action in this case is feeding, sheltering, clothing, etc., which takes work. This is an easy example. But there is another population of the poor we don't typically think about because they are not in plain sight and often live under the radar.

One in three of Americans aged 65 and older are economically insecure, with incomes 200% below the poverty line. But as the NIH notes, almost one quarter of community dwelling Americans 65 and older are also socially isolated. An astounding 60% of nursing home patients never have visitors. This population of Americans are not only poor, but incredibly lonely.

What's heartening about this situation is that American Christians are not in short supply. And we don't even need to stress about "solving the problem" on a large scale--you simply "start with one," as Mother Teresa said (Is 51:10; Mt 25:35). Like the Gospel, it costs nothing to enact, but demands everything from us (our presence). Anyone can do this work of mercy. The doing is the being.

Here's how it could work. As I was reflecting on this issue this morning, I sent an email to our parish secretary asking if she knew of or could identity seniors or shut-ins (either parishioners or those in the community, Catholic or not), and if they would be open to a visit to their home and sharing their contact info. Then, you would reach out and ask if they would be open to a visit. If your schedule precludes physical visits, phone calls or postal letters are a great substitute. Have you ever gotten a hand-written letter in the mail and felt a touch of excitement, because it is so rare to receive one today, and that someone cared enough to take the time to write and send it? Think about that.

If they are open to a visit, show up with a commitment to just be, to listen. Don't try to solve anything or do anything--your presence is the present, as the saying goes. Bring a small gift, nothing big--a flower or a card or even a Miraculous Medal on a chain they can wear. Ask them questions--about their life, growing up, their hobbies or interests. Smile. Be present. Bring a kid or two of yours if you can--the elderly love young kids, and it also serves as a witness of charity to your children they will remember. 

This isn't overly complicated. But it does take you making the time, taking the first step, a little bit of logistics, and exercising the muscle of the heart. "Half the battle is just showing up" as one of my friends would say.

The returns, I suspect, would be compounded one-hundred fold. Not only spiritually, but in the life of the poor old Christ you visit. You may extend their life, since loneliness is an epidemic. You may instill in them hope that they are not alone. Just as the Sabbath was made for man, so the exercise of charity goes beyond merit or command, but the joy of the gift for the recipient, the joy of doing the Lord's work for the Christian. 

A lot of my writing is theological, big-picture, speculative. This is 100% pragmatic. It can appeal to the "doers" but also more introverted types, since it is a one:one connection. It is for both Marthas and Marys. It models our Blessed Mother's charity (the Visitation), and fulfills the commands of the Lord on which we will be judged (Mt 25). It gets us out of our selves, so it's good for our mental health if you are struggling with depression. It gives witness to our children, and solves a tangible problem with no money and no overhead. Christ sets the example, and we follow it.

We often ask like Pilate, when confronted with these overwhelming societal issues, "Who are the poor?" Perhaps they are right under our nose, and we haven't seen them because we haven't gone out to look. 

I'll let you know when I hear back from our parish secretary, and how it goes. Maybe you can do the same? Then we can say with our Lord, "my bread is to do the will of Him who sent me" (Jn 4:34). 

The Principal of Subsidiarity In A Marriage

 

A few months ago I stumbled across a critique of Stephanie Gordon's (wife of Youtuber Tim Gordon, Rules For Retrogrades) book Ask Your Husband: A Catholic Guide To Femininity in Catholic World Report by Dr. Abigail Favale, PhD. I think the crux of the intense disagreement in the combox as to the merits of the article hinged on Gordon-supporters arguing that Catholic feminism is an irredeemable term that should be abandoned in favor of the patrimonial deference implied in the title of Ms. Gordon's book. 

Dr. Favale takes an orthodox but more nuanced approach that sees the value in the roots of authentic Catholic feminism to get at what it means to be a woman (and man). Granted, this approach takes a bit more reflection and thoughtfulness to keep the knee-jerk tendency to dismiss "triggering" words like feminism outright and consider the merits apart from the baggage. 

I have not read Ask Your Husband (apparently TAN pulled it after Timothy Gordon's brother David claimed Stephanie plagiarized sections of his own manuscript), so I can't speak to it's contents apart from the general premise. While I may be biased (I am not a Gordon fanboy, and have just settled on the conclusion that we all have our own particular styles of delivery), I did think Ms. Favale's article offered a balanced and fair critique. 

(I happened to stumble upon her Pints With Aquinas sit-down last night, and found her conversion to Catholicism interesting and authentic, her respect for nuance refreshing, and her recognition of the problems replete with feminism in the culture today honest and thoughtful. She is married to a Catholic convert and has four children).

What does any of this have to do with the Catholic principal of subsidiarity, especially as it pertains to marriage? In reflecting on the Gordons approach, which Ms. Favale claims is "legalistic and ideological," I felt there were some parallels worth exploring. 

In this context, we can see marriage as that social organization in which the human person is the principal, subject, and object. In this one-flesh union, husband and wife lay the building blocks of society through the generation of new life and the raising up of families. Even in the Sacrament of Matrimony this subsidiarity is respected in that the parties consenting to the union (the husband and wife) are themselves the ministers of the Sacrament. 

Subsidiarity is concerned mostly with economic systems and governments. With regards to the "higher orders" participation in that of the lower orders, "governments should not intervene to solve all problems":

"The government has many necessary and indispensable functions to play, roles that cannot be accomplished by individuals acting alone or even by smaller groups in society. Yet states and governments often exceed their legitimate role and infringe upon individuals and groups in society so as to dominate rather than to serve them."

The affairs of marriage are best handled at the lowest possible level, closest to the affected persons. There is a macro scope of vision (leading each other to Christ, how to live out one's vocation, etc), but the majority of marital decisions are those that take place in the day-to-day decisions spouses make. It would be unreasonable for a higher agency is this context to formulate top-down approaches to these kinds of decisions--a "micro-managing" if you will. 

Violations of the principal of subsidiarity decreases economy, efficiency, liberty and the personal character of the social order. This "personal character" of the social order (the marriage) depends upon a degree of liberty and leeway in discernment between the individuals as to the affairs of work, dress, charity, and child rearing at the lowest level. 

So, let's circle back--what does this have to do with the Gordons' book and their particular constitutions of "authentic Catholic femininity" and "the case of patriarchy" in more pragmatic terms? Well, my first reaction (again, based only on my viewing of Tim's channel and not having read the books, so take it for what it's worth) is that it is heavy-handed and a bit "top-down" in their proscriptions of what "real Catholic" men and women have to do and be in their particular roles that does not allow for the liberty and personal character of the social order referenced above. 

A healthy marriage (in my opinion) in the modern age builds from the bottom up on a (hopefully) firm, sacramental foundation. One lives within the vows, which come from above and are consented to. So there is a restriction there, but for the sake of liberty and the respect that comes with it. One pledges to be faithful--in sickness and health, for richer or poorer--but the spouses are not handed a set of blueprints of how to build the house of their marriage from a higher authority. They are not told how many children they are to have, how much to give to the Church in offering, how to school their children, where to live or how to live out their vocation in legalistic dictate. They are given that freedom to build and live in it as they see fit. 

I respect my wife enough not to dictate to her what she can and can't do. I certainly don't expect her to "ask me" for permission to leave the house or for any hundreds of minor decisions we have to make in the course of our days. I do expect her to consult with me for big financial decisions, or with things related to our children (schooling, friends, etc). But we do this in consultation with one another, not me making ultimatums. 

There is a lot of contention about "working women" in Catholic circles, which I choose not to wade into. Part of this is that my wife does work, albeit minimally and not in a way that interferes with family life or her primary vocation as a wife and mother. I have seen the struggles full-time working mothers go through, especially with regards to daycares and balancing everything, and I feel for them. I don't think it's ideal in any sense, though some do seem to pull it off. 

With regards to dress, my wife has common sense and a natural modesty that I don't interfere with much. Veiling is a good example of how one could "command" their wives to veil, citing Scripture or Church teaching. I have left it up to my wife, and she naturally took to it over time. But it wasn't by threats or shaming on my part. I think this is a better (and more respectful) way of approaching matters of modesty. 

When it comes to roles, I don't think my manhood is diminished by doing an occasional load of laundry or loading the dish washer. There was a time when my wife was working full time in which I was doing the majority of housework and daycare pickups, and that didn't work particularly well.  There was a degree of doing it for the sake of getting it done, but that it didn't fit my sense of role in the marriage. But again, this was on the lowest level of subsidiarity in which we lived out this way of delineation of duties and learned what worked and what didn't. It wasn't handed us from a higher authority in which we were mandated our duties. Like the "invisible hand" of capitalism, it worked itself out naturally over time when we brought things more in accord with a traditional model of duties. 

I could go on with other examples, but I think the point I'm trying to make here is that a healthy respect for freedom and dignity of spouses is not "effeminate" but more in line with authentic Catholic social teaching at the fundamental level of society--the family. I will admit it is a social overlay onto an economic and political model, and it may or may not work in this context. We're all trying to figure out how to live authentic Catholic lives in a confusing modern age. But to the degree that the case for patriarchy and authentic femininity is dictated from above by self-proclaimed "Catholic retrogrades" looking to restore the monarchy and abolish feminism in their spare time by writing books and doing podcasts, we may have to ask if the latitude and freedom of discernment the Church provides in these matters to individual couples is perhaps a better model to adopt. A principal of subsidiarity in marriage, if you will.  

Ben-Ops and Flops

 As some of the readers here may know or have read, I briefly lived in a "van down by the river." This was pre-#tinyhouse and pre-#vanlife, and before Instagram was a thing. I dreamed of living more intentionally, cutting my expenses, and trying something new and unconventional to try to skirt the 9-5/mortgage/suburban/consumer lifestyle "trap." I quit my job, didn't renew my lease on my apartment, and bought a used schoolbus (a former Eagles tailgating short bus), which I renovated as a little mobile dwelling unit. I was #followingmydreams

It's always a tragically humorous thing when the fantasy and dream collide with the reality and pavement. You quickly realize that many of the things you took for granted about the "conventional" life you hubrisly spurred have all of a sudden become enviable privileges. Like flush toilets. Or, space. Or a permanent mailing address. 

In a painful twist of irony as well, all the cost-cutting potential gets undercut by the very nature of this kind of nomadic life being unconventional and economically unscaled. Things like mechanical breakdowns, more frequent eating out (due to it being harder to cook), being unable to buy in bulk because of lack of storage, RV/parking space fees, and 12mgp gas consumption when being on the move, may end up costing you more than if you had rented a small studio in the bad part of town. 

I lasted a couple weeks before I woke up to the challenges ahead of me, and donated the bus and moved in with a friend from grad school who had an extra room. It was an adventure for sure. I'm glad I got it out of my system. Because reality can sometimes be a good-for-you medicine. 

In a similar vein, for all the talk of a kind of agrarian throwback "Catholic Land Movement" that runs through some of the Distributist-Chestertonian and traditional circles, I don't really see this being a thing apart from small pin-points on a map here and there. Peter Maurin attempted to do this with Catholic Worker farms in the early part of the 20th century, and it just never took off. Devin Rose has an honest account of his family's putting their ideals into practice in attempting to do just this (you can read it here), and it being a complete admitted failure. The reality is, the deck is stacked against farmers who already have the knowledge and have been doing it for years. For the city-slicker who wants to undertake "living off the land"--in community no less--with no agriculture experience....well, its a sadly predictable failure to launch in most cases.

Devin admits his "farm flop" was a complete disaster, but similar to my experience, had a lot to teach him and was invaluable in that regard. Sometimes we learn from our failures. It may be a renewed appreciation of one's spouse after falling for the lie of infidelity after realizing the evaporative nature of extra-marital affairs. Or realizing that indoor plumbing is actually a laudable advancement of human achievement worth supporting. 

Maybe "conventional" living, however modest, is not something to scorn. Living modestly, working a job, raising a family; these are not bad things. I remember being so influenced by the Beats since they were my favorite literature to read in high school, and their post-war disdain for anything conventional. Gregory Corso's poem "Marriage" ("Should I get married? Should I be good?") spoke to my nomadic sensibilities, but did not result in my being happier or more fulfilled, since I was thwarting the vocation God had called me to. 

When I met my future wife, everything fell into place. Was I "selling out?" my ideal life of living in a van and reading books all day, in perceived freedom and solitude? Who knows. At that point, it was all in the rearview, and I wasn't looking back with fondness at the life I had left behind. Instead, I found myself immensely grateful for this unmerited gift in my wife of "a triple-braided rope" which is not quickly broken (Ecc 4:12).

Can the "Benedict-Option" work today to stem the washing tide of modernism and animosity to religion? Maybe. But there is also the more 'conventional' option to "bloom where you are planted." Maybe that's in a blue state, or the suburbs, or the basement of your parent's house as you begin your family. Maybe it's in a boring but secure job that allows you to provide for your family and have lots of kids and even some hobbies. Maybe you're not growing your own food and being "self-sufficient" (a misnomer if there ever was one), but buying produce from a local farm that is. 

Whatever it is, we are sometimes called to trek out in faith to an unknown Promised Land, leaving everything we know behind. But sometimes, for those of us who have explored the alternatives, you find yourself prodigal in a sense with your tail between your legs; you may have had to leave home to find it again. The hope is you have the arms of a loving Father there to welcome you back to it.

Healing The Church...From The Ground Up

 There's a economic philosophy in Catholic social thought called Distributism; some of you may be familiar with it, with Chesterton and Belloc being it's chief proponents. Although I haven't studied it in-depth, my main takeaway it's based in the concept of subsidiarity--that "a community of a higher order should not interfere in the internal life of a community of a lower order, depriving the latter of its functions, but rather should support it in case of need and help to co-ordinate its activity with the activities of the rest of society, always with a view to the common good."

I've thought about this economic philosophy as it applies to the "lower orders" of the Church--that is, the domestic Church, i.e., the family.  From the head on down, we see nothing but dysfunction in the institutional Church. Any "top-down" solutions are fraught with bureaucratic oversight and inefficiencies, not to mention not being in touch with the nature of the lower orders. 

But by nature, the Church is hierarchical, so we are working within the confines of this chain of command. If you are an American conservative, you are already familiar with the view (counter to our current administration) that the purpose of government is not to solve every societal problem through over-regulation and control, but through ensuring the rights of the populace by way of the Constitution. That is, the principals on which this nation was founded supported "we the people" to self-govern and gave them the means to do so by ensuring those rights. But this requires virtue, as John Adams famously noted, "Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other." 

Likewise in the Church, Her raison d'etre is to lead men to Heaven, not carry them there. She does this by way of the Mass, the Sacraments, doctrine, holy scripture, and giving us tools for our toolbox (sacramentals). The saints are our guides in the varying ways one may attain to this goal, those building blocks which form the foundation of the Church Militant. When the Church is ensuring those things are in order, even fallen man is given the resources and hope, in cooperation with grace, to attain to virtue and save his soul. 

But note the important caveat in Distributist thought--the higher order should not interfere in the internal life of the community, depriving the latter of its functions. 

Friends have been sending me news of the possible revocation of Summorum Pontificum and the return to the motu proprio; I'd be lying if I said I wasn't filled with a low-level dread at the prospect of this happening under Pope Francis' pontificate. Summorum Pontificum allowed greater freedom for priests to celebrate the Traditional Latin Mass (though, arguably by many traditionalists, this should be the standard, not the allowed exception). If the indult is revoked...well, I'm not exactly sure what that would look like, but I think it's safe to say there would be less access and greater restrictions for traditional worship. From where I'm standing on the ground as a layman, father, and husband trying to lead his family to Heaven, this seems to qualify as "depriving the latter of its functions," and is a intentional "interference in the internal life of the community." 

As I've written before, our family has benefited from great grace by way of the traditional Mass, and have appreciated the ability to take part in traditional worship. I don't know why it ever went away in the first place, but that's a post for another day. 

As I wrote in yesterday's post, there are some in the Church who feel they have been psychologically or spiritually harmed by "traditionalists" who act without charity. This is not a 'top-down' but a 'bottom -up' problem. No amount of reform in taking away the Traditional Latin Mass and attempting to scatter traditionalist faithful will stamp out those who want to worship in this way.  And so the solution lies in healing at the root (sanatio in radice) through the building of virtue and healthy spirituality that expresses itself in charity and self-giving. The onus is on the families--not to be responsible for other people's hurt feelings, but to ensure they are doing everything they can to live out their faith and do their part well, with the tools to do so. 

I've pondered how to live this out in my own life and the life of my family as a way of healing the Church from the bottom up. One thing my wife and I came up with, however, trivial, is to host a once a month gathering of disconnected Catholics in our area for food, fellowship, and spiritual study in fellowship, which we will be starting next month. Our hope is to fortify one another and draw on that human capital present in other Catholics "on the ground" so that if and when "the sheep are scattered," we will at least have made contact with one another and can reach out for support here in the "lower orders." Living the virtues ourselves, praying the family rosary, attending Mass, inviting others in and outside the faith to explore Her claims, tithing and sacrificing for intentional causes--these are all ways we are trying to heal the Church and build her up. I've also been trying to invest more in our men's scripture study, which I lead once a week, so that the men might have fraternity and be able to lead their families well. 

Honestly, I'm not sure what else to do. We are focusing on the local level with the hopes it will fan out and in a whisper-down-the-lane way, give people the perhaps soon to be restricted access to the tools they need to live holy lives should things go dark. What I do know, is that help is not coming 'from the top.' If we weren't on our own already, we may soon well be.