A Raggedy Faith

When I set up in the middle of town with a "CATHOLIC TRUTH" sign handing out Miraculous Medals, I feel really really uncomfortable. I don't really know what I'm doing or what we are really accomplishing, and I feel naked and foolish. Sometimes people will come up to us and say, "what about the pedophile priests? What about the hypocrisy?" And I don't really always have a good answer. I smile and pray, and just going back and keep setting up shop all the while feeling the sting.

When I go to Planned Parenthood to pray outside the doors, I feel really really uncomfortable. I don't know what me praying decade after decade of the rosary are accomplishing in the face of the overall worldly pragmatism of abortion. I don't know what I'm doing. Each man and woman that goes in and comes out, I pray a decade for. When the escorts are out in their pink vests, I pray for them but never take my eyes off them. Our eyes will meet sometimes, but they always seem to look away. They know. Still, I don't know what else to do but pray. I don't know what to say or do. And I am a neophyte, especially compared to the veterans that have devoted their life to what I do a handful of times a year.

In the movie "Romero," the Archbishop is invited to the home of a well-to-do couple. Pleasantries are exchanged, and then the businessman husband/father lays into Archbishop Romero in the kitchen:

"You religious people ...You live in your souls. You do not understand what we do ...producing, selling, bringing dollars in...Capital, to develop the country, to create jobs ...to build a prosperous economy. That is what affects people. But for that we must have law and order."

Succeeding in the world is a wholly pragmatic affair, one I never really caught on to, as I'm sometimes reminded. I never did any internships, got a useless degree, for ten years I thought I would be a monk, I never made much money and never really cared, don't have much to show for a career. But I've always prayed, and I know God is faithful. I know it is not a futile endeavor...but that itself takes faith. We're not called to be successful, as St. Teresa of Calcutta said...just faithful.

Still, faith can feel like a fools errand sometimes when we actually put it into practice, when we're not writing about it or sharing articles or having discussions. We think of the flesh typically as the passions, of lust and unchastity and the appetites. But for me it's as much the temptations of the flesh to be accepted, to pragmatism, to scientific verifiability, to NOT being really really uncomfortable and just playing safe, to not losing friends, to not being mocked.

It's seeing a woman walking into the clinic and thinking, "well, if I was in her shoes, no job and no family and no support, scared and feeling like I had not options, maybe I would be doing the same thing. Maybe abortion in that case would make sense, and who am I to judge her if I haven't walked in her shoes." Or if I was the boyfriend, maybe I'd want to 'cover my tracks' too. These are the temptations I face during these times, the very subtle whisperings of "you have no right" and "what do you know" and "sure, you can pray for me, if it makes you feel better, but it won't really change anything." The foolishness of religion, of faith, of prayer.

If you want to be a saint, you have to be a stubborn son of a gun, for God's sake. St. Philomena was scourged, drowned with an anchor attached to her, and shot with arrows. Each time she was attacked angels took to her side and healed her through prayer. Finally, the Emperor had Philomena decapitated when the 13 year old virgin still refused to marry him. If it weren't for the saints themselves, I wouldn't think Heaven was even a possibility. We have to be stubborn with ourselves too. Oftentimes I only have faith to spite my LACK of faith, to spite the one tempting me, because there is literally nothing else I have of worth except this poverty of foolish faith, like a ratty gift you offer a King. Please God, increase my faith, and take me down with the ship so I can rise with you when this life is over.

Tradition and Charity: The Face Of Renewal

For the past month or so my family and I have been attending Mass in the Extraordinary Form--also known as the Tridentine Mass or the Traditional Latin Mass--in the city near us. This is at a parish different than the one where we are registered. The parish where we are registered and had been attending until last month is actually very reverent and liturgically minded for the most part. The church itself is over 200 years old, and still has an altar rail (though it isn't used), pews facing the altar (rather than in a circle), and patins at Communion. So, it's not like we were fleeing a heterodox Mass rife with liturgical abuses.

So, I often think, 'what is it that led us here?' and considering we are thinking and praying about making the switch to be fully registered at this new parish, it seems strange that I don't have a water-tight answer. I grew up attending the Divine Liturgy in Ukranian with my dad occasionally, so traditional liturgy is more familiar than it is exotic or new. Truth be told, I was never even really attracted to it in the first place, as I felt (at least in the Byzantine liturgy) that it was all about the externals--the incense, the chanting, the constant bowing and crossing. When people speak about the TLM being Heaven on Earth, these are the kinds of things that are attractions, not deterrents. I can appreciate beauty and formality, of course; but the "beauty will save the world" argument is not what drew me.

In a way, traditional Catholicism has more in common liturgically with "deed over creed" Judaism than it does with contemporary Christianity. As A.J. Jacobs writes in "The Year of Living Biblically,"

"There's an emphasis on behavior; follow the rules of the Torah, and eventually you'll come to believe. But evangelical Christianity says you must first believe in Jesus, then the good works will naturally follow. Charity and kindness alone cannot save you. You must, as the saying goes, be "justified by faith."

Of course whether you attend the Traditional Latin Mass or the Novus Ordo (I still have trouble writing that without it feeling pejorative), we are one in our faith, which theologically is still consistent with the rest of Christianity in being "creed over deed." But liturgically speaking, it is apparent in attending the Latin Mass that the rituals, the words, the language, the orientation even--matters. Right worship leads to right belief, or so I'm told.

The thing is, I'm starting to see there might be something to this. What is so radically different about the Extraordinary Form of the Mass is that it does not take my feelings, my understanding, or my participation into account. It took a little while for me to realize what is actually happening, but one almost needs to go through a paradigm shift. We are not 'sharing in a communal meal' as is sometimes the conceptualization in the NO, but witnessing the priest offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Even as I write, I recognize how new I am to this way of thinking, given how unsure I am in getting the terminology (and, by extension, the theology) correct. And I have been Catholic for over twenty years!

But there is something to this, obviously. Dr. Peter Kwasniewski writes,

"This is the challenge that the traditional Roman liturgy makes to us again and again, in its prayers, its ceremonies, its calendar, and its ethos. It is not accommodated to our worldly compromises... It proclaims unequivocally the primacy of things heavenly and spiritual. It is the luminous expression of an ageless tradition of worship, as carried out by men and women who made this worship their primary work in life. As such, it does the opposite of pandering to us moderns; it confronts us with our need for radical conversion. The old Missal is the unwavering, undying repository of the radical message of Jesus Christ, our Lord and God. Are we ready to hear this Gospel and take up the Cross?"

"Distrust of self," writes Dom Lorenzo Scupoli, "is so absolutely requisite in the spiritual combat, that without this virtue we cannot expect to defeat our weakest passions, much less gain a complete victory. This important truth should be deeply imbedded in our hearts; for, although in ourselves we are nothing, we are too apt to overestimate our own abilities and to conclude falsely that we are of some importance."

I remember when reading The Spiritual Combat years ago making a mental note of the order of the four things (weapons) necessary in the fight (Distrust of one's self; confidence in God; proper use of the faculties of body and mind; and the duty of prayer). Why did he list "Distrust of Self" first, feeling it necessary to lay the groundwork of human weakness before extolling the virtue of confidence in God? Did it matter?

Additionally, we see another example of this 'ordering' when it comes to the Commandments in Matthew 22. When an expert in the law asks him, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied:

"‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Mt 22:36-39)

The Lord tells the expert in the law that all the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments, while acknowledging that "the first and greatest" commandment is to love the Lord God with all one's heart, soul, and mind. When speaking of the temporal goods we need to live and that we fret over--food, shelter, clothing--our Lord reasserts the proper order of things: "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt 6:33).

And so the way I have experienced it, that radical witness of God first as expressed in the traditional liturgy, sets the tone for everything else. This is what can be intimidating about the community--the seriousness and "set-apartness" of everything. You'd be forgiven for thinking you maybe wandered into a kind of Catholic Hutterite country if you didn't know better. At the first Latin Mass that we attended, I could not get over my self-consciousness. Our kids were behaving badly that particular day, even though most all of the other kids weren't. You could almost hear a pindrop--no idle chitchat, and a reverent attitude. The veils were a curiosity I had heard about, though not all women were wearing so it didn't seem like you would be kicked out for not wearing one. But it is that very seriousness and intentionality that, I think, is part of the attraction. There are no casual Catholics at a Latin Mass, for the most part. From what I gathered, most have significant buy-in and commitment, and have made sacrifices as well to be there. Some have suffered for it as well.

So what did get us there in the first place, and why have we continued to attend to the point of considering making it our permanent parish? I'd say it all started with...an invitation. We had friends of friends, very warm and hospitable people, who attended there and who extended an invitation for us to "come and see." We took them up on their offer. The first TLM we attended happened to be on a Sunday when they do hospitality afterwards--coffee, donuts and pastries, and a chance to mingle. Lots of kids running around, young families and older folks. As much as we tend to say as Catholics, "It's not about the fellowship, that's for Protestants," having a community to be a part of is important for some people, and I think we may fall into that camp. The community is small, but everyone seems to know one another, and are friendly. The pastor himself is a deeply humble and holy man, and he made time to get to know us as well.

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. Our son has already expressed an interest in being a server, and the fact that there is no formal training or manual but that the other boys (and boys only) learn simply by observations and teaching each other with help from the priest is impressive. They serve with military precision, which appeals to male sensibilities, I think.

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)

I am still a noob, but as we have witnessed, the power of the traditional liturgy to give glory to God here on earth, and the power of witness in charity here on earth as a means of leading people closer to Heaven, seems to be in my mind an unstoppable force for renewal. When I reflect on the following words of Pope emeritus Benedict XVI, it is such traditionally minded communities that come to my mind:

“The future of the Church can and will issue from those whose roots are deep and who live from the pure fullness of their faith. It will not issue from those who accommodate themselves merely to the passing moment or from those who merely criticize others and assume that they themselves are infallible measuring rods; nor will it issue from those who take the easier road, who sidestep the passion of faith, declaring false and obsolete, tyrannous and legalistic, all that makes demands upon men, that hurts them and compels them to sacrifice themselves. To put this more positively: The future of the Church, once again as always, will be reshaped by saints, by men, that is, whose minds probe deeper than the slogans of the day, who see more than others see, because their lives embrace a wider reality. Unselfishness, which makes men free, is attained only through the patience of small daily acts of self-denial. By this daily passion, which alone reveals to a man in how many ways he is enslaved by his own ego, by this daily passion and by it alone, a man’s eyes are slowly opened. He sees only to the extent that he has lived and suffered. If today we are scarcely able any longer to become aware of God, that is because we find it so easy to evade ourselves, to flee from the depths of our being by means of the narcotic of some pleasure or other. Thus our own interior depths remain closed to us. If it is true that a man can see only with his heart, then how blind we are!

“How does all this affect the problem we are examining? It means that the big talk of those who prophesy a Church without God and without faith is all empty chatter. We have no need of a Church that celebrates the cult of action in political prayers. It is utterly superfluous. Therefore, it will destroy itself. What will remain is the Church of Jesus Christ, the Church that believes in the God who has become man and promises us life beyond death. The kind of priest who is no more than a social worker can be replaced by the psychotherapist and other specialists; but the priest who is no specialist, who does not stand on the [sidelines], watching the game, giving official advice, but in the name of God places himself at the disposal of man, who is beside them in their sorrows, in their joys, in their hope and in their fear, such a priest will certainly be needed in the future.

“Let us go a step farther. From the crisis of today the Church of tomorrow will emerge — a Church that has lost much. She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning. She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity. As the number of her adherents diminishes, so it will lose many of her social privileges. In contrast to an earlier age, it will be seen much more as a voluntary society, entered only by free decision. As a small society, it will make much bigger demands on the initiative of her individual members. Undoubtedly it will discover new forms of ministry and will ordain to the priesthood approved Christians who pursue some profession. In many smaller congregations or in self-contained social groups, pastoral care will normally be provided in this fashion. Along-side this, the full-time ministry of the priesthood will be indispensable as formerly. But in all of the changes at which one might guess, the Church will find her essence afresh and with full conviction in that which was always at her center: faith in the triune God, in Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man, in the presence of the Spirit until the end of the world. In faith and prayer she will again recognize the sacraments as the worship of God and not as a subject for liturgical scholarship.

“The Church will be a more spiritual Church, not presuming upon a political mandate, flirting as little with the Left as with the Right. It will be hard going for the Church, for the process of crystallization and clarification will cost her much valuable energy. It will make her poor and cause her to become the Church of the meek. The process will be all the more arduous, for sectarian narrow-mindedness as well as pompous self-will will have to be shed. One may predict that all of this will take time. The process will be long and wearisome as was the road from the false progressivism on the eve of the French Revolution — when a bishop might be thought smart if he made fun of dogmas and even insinuated that the existence of God was by no means certain — to the renewal of the nineteenth century. But when the trial of this sifting is past, a great power will flow from a more spiritualized and simplified Church. Men in a totally planned world will find themselves unspeakably lonely. If they have completely lost sight of God, they will feel the whole horror of their poverty. Then they will discover the little flock of believers as something wholly new. They will discover it as a hope that is meant for them, an answer for which they have always been searching in secret.

“And so it seems certain to me that the Church is facing very hard times. The real crisis has scarcely begun. We will have to count on terrific upheavals. But I am equally certain about what will remain at the end: not the Church of the political cult, which is dead already, but the Church of faith. It may well no longer be the dominant social power to the extent that she was until recently; but it will enjoy a fresh blossoming and be seen as man’s home, where he will find life and hope beyond death."

Famous Last Words

Blogging today, when you are a nobody like me, is a little like small-scale organic farming. You show up at the inefficient but quaint farmer's market each week, dutifully. People love your fresh brown eggs and parsnips. You might even have a unique treat you're known for, like home-grown morrells or apple-cider donuts, that draw a faithful dozen to your stand week after week. It's a nice group of people who meander through. The county newspaper did an article on your enterprise that highlighted the role of the local farmer. You know your efforts are not really 'worth it' the way big ag would calculate it, and you have to take a second job off the farm, but you are 'adding value' through community building, sustainable development, and micro-harvesting, and giving people a connection to their food with the hands who produced it. There is value there, an idealism being kept alive because of the people who support it.

I've been writing on Blogger since 2007, when blogging was in its prime. I had an eclectic blog titled Rob's Fobs that I retired after eight years. It consisted of poetry, short stories, plays, inventions, musings, and struggles with mental health. In 2015 I wanted to have a blog focused more narrowly on my life of faith, how I lived as a Catholic man, a husband, father, and disciple of Jesus Christ. Anything not having to do with faith, family, marriage, chastity, or discipleship I consciously omitted or (saved for Facebook). This was Wisdom and Folly. Prior to 2007, I blogged on (wait for it)...MySpace. I have always written, whether it was on scraps of lined notebook paper folded in the back pocket of my Gap corduroys in high school, or on a small NEC laptop in a rented room in Mexico, or pumping quarters into a desktop computer at an internet cafe in Bangkok...I've always written.

Blogging has always been a nice outlet for me. I've never tried to monetize my blog, and I'm proud of that for whatever reason. As the pastor Francis Chan said, "money makes people do weird things." I don't fault anyone for trying to make some bucks from their writing; I just felt I'd rather pick up trash from the curb and resell it on Craigslist as a way to bring in some extra cash rather than taint something I treat as a kind of sacred recreation. Writing, especially when it comes to matters of faith, isn't really valued among the general populace. Why should it be? Christ the Lord offers the Gospel as a means of salvation for all who would accept it free of charge, though it is worth more than the finest gold. And what percentage of the population joyfully hear it, take it to heart, and keep it close to their breast?

I like to offer what I write as a gift to whomever it may bless. I'm a 'take what's useful and leave the rest' kind of guy, and I imagine some of my readers are as well. I'm not big on exploiting controversy or capitalizing on the latest Church scandal or leveraging liberal nonsense as part of a conservative mouthpiece. I just write about what I feel prompted to write about as it comes, and if it pertains to faith, I entrust that intuition to the Holy Spirit to bless my efforts and keep me from error. Sometimes I'll jot down a few keywords on a bar napkin, or make a mental note during a homily at Mass, or get up in the middle of the night to pen something and stake it to a page before it expires. Writing is a compulsion and a curse. Always has been for me. A blessing and a curse.

I have always felt close to the words of the prophet Jeremiah, who wrote,

"But if I say, "I will not mention his word or speak anymore in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot." (Jer 20:9)

Writers, even secular ones, know this to be painfully true, this spiritual constipation. Writers write. That's why blogging today feels like a lonely enterprise...because it's really not about the writing anymore. It's about SEO, monetizing, building your network, ad revenue, pay per click, etc. Though I love to write, I'm wondering if blogging has been co-opted enough that it's lost it's plausability as a legitimate hosting platform. That's a hard pill to swallow when you've invested, oh, the past 15 years or so building and feeding your blog with content. I did a XML export of all my blog content (367 posts over the past three years at Wisdom and Folly) for PDF/docx conversion, and it's a LOT. I want to keep it. I know my wife wants to keep it. It's the public part I'm struggling with.

I am not a journaler. What I write, I write to share. If no one is going to read it, I usually don't write it. This is a double-edged sword. Writing for an audience hones and focuses your content and helps you develop your voice and style, but it's hard to detach from the need for validation, to know what you're writing is being read, to track stats and analytics. So much ego in writing, and so wily. There is also the privacy aspect, and for my family's sake, the desire to keep a lower profile, and not to exploit those tender private moments I have with my children, as I am wont to do, for the world to see.

Some people have encouraged me to consider writing a book. At this point I have no plans to, but with the blog off the table, maybe it will move me closer to consideration. I will continue to write for Catholic Stand and maybe work on branching out to other Catholic publications as well. To all thoughts contrary, I'm not drying up in the material department. I could keep writing and churning out posts and content. In fact, I feel as fresh as ever. Which is even more reason why I feel God may be calling me to put this on the altar right now while things are in their prime.

I've never really 'fit' anywhere, another struggle for me and a reason I've enjoyed maintaining a kind of independence here on Blogger. I'm not a hardcore conservative and I'm not a hardcore liberal and I'm not a liturgist and I'm not a theologian, I'm not a stay at home mom, I'm not a Thomist, I'm not a social media guru, I'm not a super Catholic, I'm just some 38 year old guy trying to get to Heaven and bring his family with him and leaving a trail of words in his wake.

I will be embarking on a 90 day prayer discipline with a few other Catholic men starting on January 21st, which will require a good bit of focus, time in prayer and scripture, and asceticism. I've decided to keep the blog public until that day, at which point it will come down and be archived. If you want to reach out via the contact form, I may be able to send you a copy via email of every post ever written in PDF 'book' form, but only if you promise to keep it to yourself! I hope to have that done sometime this week. Please stay in touch by way of email, should we happen to connect in this way.

This is not an easy decision, and I don't even grasp fully why it needs to be this way. But I am trusting the conviction, that in hoping to honor God in all things and above all things, that I would tie my words to the altar and draw the knife if it's what He wants. He has His reasons; He knows what He is about. He is leading me somewhere deeper and I don't know where, and taking my prize possessions as collateral. Who knows, maybe He will give them back some day, maybe even a hundred fold? I honestly don't know what is ahead, or what kind of outlet I will have in place of this blog. I'm trusting Him. Though he slay me, I will trust him still. (Job 13:15)

Comments are open to the public, and are enabled. I am so grateful for your support, those who promoted Wisdom and Folly and those who simply took pleasure or solace in reading.

Please pray for me, and I for you.

In Christ,

Rob
12 January 2019

A Wallet Full Of Memories

As parents of three kids, my wife and I try to be intentional about carving out one on one time with our kids. Some wise Christian friends told us not to waste those little moments of running errands or being out and about--take a kid with you.

I decided to do this with my oldest this past Monday. I had stayed home from work because my wife was sick, and was going a little stir crazy near the end of the day. I decided to take my son to return some pants, stop by Lowes, and make a visit to the Adoration chapel to pray. He's been wanting to do everything dad does lately: wearing aftershave, hammering nails into wood, and asking about girls. If she could handle the other two kids for an hour, I would take the oldest out.

Everything was going great. We made an impromptu stop for ice cream. There were two other dads with their sons, which he noticed. It was "our place" and we shared a cone, and spun around on the bar stools. When we finished up, we headed to return the pants, but in the store things started to get derailed when he saw a toy he wanted and I said we couldn't get it. He got huffy, and then when we also emerged empty handed from Lowes, he started feeling like it was a wasted trip. When we got to the Adoration Chapel, he was upset and sulky. We both kneeled down to pray, him reluctantly at first. He started to blame God for things--He's not really there, He never answers my prayers, etc. I don't pray enough for my kids, but I prayed for him there, very intentionally, that he should never fall away from the Lord.

When we left the chapel, the waterworks began. He was upset because the memories we were making in the beginning of the afternoon, he loved them. "And then you had to RUIN EVERYTHING!" It wasn't what he expected. I knelt down to his level and tried to console him but he wasn't having it.

"You know D, we can make memories from anything. That's what's great about having an imagination. Anything can be a memory!"

He stopped crying for a moment and looked up, curious.

"Listen, I have an idea. Let's make a memory, something to remember between me and you, right now. Do you want to be my race car co-pilot? Yeah? Well, let's go."

I strapped him in, and started the car. "Okay, now listen, there's going to be a lot of drivers chasing us, so you have to have the smoke bombs ready. I'll try to lose them, but I'll need your  help."

He was listening, getting excited. "Okay."

We pulled out of the church parking lot and made a left to the highway. Soon enough, a car with headlights emerged in my rearview mirror. "Oh boy, D. Here we go."

"What?"

"Get the smoke bombs ready. I'll try to lose him."

I sped up. "We're losing him!" he cried. "Yeah, but there's a red light ahead. Get the smoke bomb ready!"

He was bouncing in his seat, excited. "Okay, bombs away!" He turned in his seat and threw an imaginary distraction at the guy behind us.

"We lost him!" I yelled, when the driver turned right and we turned left.

We continued to race and lose cars, throwing bombs all the way home. It was a silly game that boys love, that I loved growing up on vacation. I remembered it today, even with my lousy memory. By the time we got home, he was all smiles and told his mom and sister excitedly about everything we did. We managed to salvage a potential disaster with the power of imagination glued together with a few hours of borrowed time. It didn't cost us anything, and wasn't scheduled.

When we lose people we love, their memories sustain us. Memories are bonded to time, and they take place in real life, cached in the mind. They can also sear the heart, because we can never repeat them, only replay them. It's a kind of metaphysical currency we deal in. For a boy who has lost his dad, all he has of him are memories and mementos. If my kids ever lose me, I want them to have good ones that are worth their weight in gold.

The Sweet Box

I ran across an interesting article at Crisis the other day about Japanese-South Korea relations. It touched on the controversial issue of "comfort women" and "comfort stations" during World War II:

"The point of the comfort stations was to...meet the sexual needs of its troops and improve morale while preventing venereal disease and ensuring that troops did not engage in pillow talk with local, unlicensed prostitutes, who were often paid by enemy forces to extract information from military clients. Virtually every military in the Second World War, and in every war before that, used some version of the “comfort women” system. American General Claire Chennault even went so far as to fly in disease-free prostitutes from India for his syphilis-wracked pilots and mechanics in the Flying Tigers brigade in Kunming."

In France, mobile brothels were referred to as bordels mobile de campagne or BMCs. These BYOBs (bring your own brothel) were given creative euphemisms such as "la boîte à bonbons" (the sweet box). In Europe today, the usage is less dressed up and more crudely utilitarian. In Germany, drive-in sex garages are known as verrichtungsboxen, or “relief boxes,” and in the Netherlands afwerkplek which translates as "a place to finish the work."

If this seems like a degeneration unique to modern times, I imagine you would be mistaken. Prostitution, as they say, is the oldest profession. If there were no demand, there would be no supply. And there has always been demand.

On the one hand, governments and military are taking what they see as a pragmatic approach to not so much solve, but contain what they see as an inevitable issue. For GIs at risk of syphilis and gonorrhea (the US army discharged 10,000 soldiers and lost 7 million man days during WWII because of these STDs), supplying their own sex workers was meant to keep disease, rape (which had the potential to destabilize relations in the occupied regions, not to mention the egregious act itself on the local women), and leaking of military info to a minimum. Yet, what is not addressed is why the assumption that men cannot exercise self-control, that sexual needs are an absolute, and that one can only mitigate the risks of such activity, is taken as a given.

You could make the argument that the law of unintended consequences (both social, economic, and criminal) might be at play when such liberal policies are enacted. San Francisco mandated low-flow toilets and reeked havoc on their sewer system as a result. Colorado legalized recreational marijuana in an effort to tax and regulate it, yet did not anticipate the rise in black market export of cannabis over state lines. A 2012 study found countries where prostitution is legal experience greater “inflows” of human trafficking. Germany showed a sharp uptick in reports of trafficking after it legalized prostitution, and in Denmark, where prostitution is decriminalized, the number of trafficking victims spiked to more than four times that of neighboring Sweden, where the practice is illegal.

I see the assumption that A+B will always equal C in play as well when it comes to the use of artificial contraception and abortion. Proponents of greater access to birth control argue that if you want to reduce the number of abortions, make birth control more widely available, and educate on its use. Slam dunk. But despite how easy and accessible birth control is today, it has not made abortion obsolete. Even Planned Parenthood's own research admits that 54% of women seeking abortions were using contraception at the time they got pregnant.

But this is not a social issue post. I don't know how to solve these societal issues on the macro scale. But I want to take the opportunity to talk about this idea of 'unfathomable' chastity as it pertains to men.

The sexual appetite is strong, and chastity as a virtue is not easy to attain. It reminds me of the scripture, when Jesus tells the disciples about the rich entering the Kingdom in Mt 19:23-26:

“Truly I say to you, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” When the disciples heard this, they were very astonished and said, “Then who can be saved?” And looking at them Jesus said to them, “With people this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

It's not just hard, it's impossible. It's interesting that these words of our Lord come in Matthew's Gospel right after his words on marriage and divorce. Servant of God Fr. John Hardon, SJ, wrote:

"I never tire repeating that without Holy Communion, it is impossible to practice the charity which Christ demands of His followers. Plain logic tells us that, if this is true, neither can we practice Christian chastity without the frequent, even daily, reception of the Holy Eucharist. It is not only that our own frequent, even daily, assistance at Mass is a powerful source of chaste living. The Holy Sacrifice, offered on so many altars, is a reservoir of divine strength against the demon of lust for all mankind."

Note the relationship between charity and chastity. And chastity is not just "not having sex with prostitutes," or not masturbating. It is a purity of heart, for the married and unmarried alike. I have been listening to St. Francis de Sales' "Introduction to the Devout Life" while driving in the car. In the chapter on purity, he writes,

"Remember that there are things which blemish perfect purity, without being in themselves downright acts of impurity. Anything which tends to lessen its intense sensitiveness, or to cast the slightest shadow over it, is of this nature; and all evil thoughts or foolish acts of levity or heedlessness are as steps towards the most direct breaches of the law of chastity. Avoid the society of persons who are wanting in purity, especially if they are bold, as indeed impure people always are."

Modern man thinks of the sexual appetite in animalistic terms with no regard to the faculty of reason. Like an animal, he cannot help himself with these urges anymore than one can go days without eating or going to the bathroom, so focus on minimizing the fallout (disease, legal repercussions, pregnancy). This reduction of sex for men to the equivalent of relieving oneself on the toilet has lead to a bottoming out in poverty not only in the spiritual elements of sex, but in our regard for the sanctity of life, the dignity of women, and confusion over what constitutes appropriate sexual boundaries. Why should we be surprised women (and children!) are trafficked to feed the demand for sexual gratification, however heinous or perverted, abortion is so widespread, and sexual confusion so pervasive?

When I think of my time before coming to Christ, and even early on in my conversion before I had a firm grasp of the standard Christ calls us to, the idea of chastity of mind, heart, and body did seem unattainable. I mean, literally. But the victory does not come by sheer human effort or gritting teeth, but by grace. God has given me a new heart (Ezekiel 36:26) and has done things for me I was unable to do alone by my own will and strength, to purify my mind, my memory, and my heart.

We are not animals, we are men of reason, and though we will always struggle, the abandonment of our wills to the flesh is not unavoidable or only to be contained. Christ does not lower the bar to meet our weakness, but raises us up by his grace to higher heights to make us perfect as he is perfect and gives us a new heart, a new mind. He gives us the grace we need, and we should be indebted to a Christian ethos that values so highly the dignity of women, upholds the Natural Law, and the model of monogamous marriage. It is a complete paradigm shift that holds even thoughts liable to judgment. It demands a lot, but offers much as well.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight." 

(Prov 3:5-6)

Left At The Altar

My wife and I were joking yesterday about how compatible we are given that we are, well, almost complete opposites. We complement each other in that way, and fill in for each other's deficiencies like spackle puttied into nail holes in the drywall of life.

The topic du jour was environmental awareness. I am hyper aware of my surroundings--noises, people, energy (both good and bad), knowing where the exits are at parties, etc. My wife on the other hand is generally oblivious to such things. We've speculated that our differences in birth order contribute to this. 

As the youngest of four, my wife was used to having to wait for things, and was generally taken care of growing up. As a result she is very patient, and she also doesn't understand why the socks she leaves at the foot of the bed are still there the next morning rather than in the hamper where they belong. She also doesn't get worked up about things. Once when she was little her parents took her and her siblings out to eat at a pizza parlor. When they were finished they left, forgetting her at the restaurant. No one realized it until they got home, at which point her dad rushed back to get her. She never made a peep; she just sat wondering where they had gone. 

As the oldest of three boys, I am used to taking on the weight of the world's problems and having to be responsible for everything, which makes me prone to anxiety. Growing up, I was hyper-sensitive to even the slightest relational and familial discord, and part of that was magnified by living with a parent with bi-polar disorder (my father). If things were 'off'--if my dad and I had had some kind of strain in our relationship, or some kind of emotional tension, or he was unwell and we had to walk on eggshells...it was hard to rest until it was resolved. Thankfully we have a good relationship, but it's always apparent when something has not been dealt with between us. It won't be long before it comes up and, ultimately, put to rest.

Now it's my turn to be the bi-polar dad, and the apple doesn't fall far from the tree with my progeny, my firstborn. My son is emotionally sensitive, a very neat, astute, and affable boy who is, like his father, hyper attuned to things being right and in harmony between us. He wants to be like daddy. If he feels I am angry with him, or if he in turn is angry and throwing fits, he can't rest until things are made right. He pushes you away when he really wants a hug, and, amazingly, he is aware of this pattern in himself as well. I see it because I am the same way, and I know how complicated those emotions can get. My wife is baffled by it, but she's learning.

We do our best to always resolve such issues before falling asleep, taking to heart St. Paul's admonition in Ephesians 4:26 not to let the sun go down on one's wrath. On the occasions when he has fallen asleep, exhausted from a fit of stubborn anger, he is like a computer put in hibernate or standby mode--as soon as he wakes up, his emotional state kicks right back into where it left off. 

St. John Chrysostom, in his Homily 16 on the Gospel of Matthew, makes notes that the night is not our friend in this regard:

"For much as Christ by this argument of the sacrifice, so there Paul by that of the day, is urging us on to the self-same point. Because in truth he fears the night, lest it overtake him that is smitten alone, and make the wound greater. For whereas in the day there are many to distract, and draw him off; in the night, when he is alone, and is thinking it over by himself, the waves swell, and the storm becomes greater. Therefore Paul, you see, to prevent this, would fain commit him to the night already reconciled, that the devil may after that have no opportunity, from his solitude, to rekindle the furnace of his wrath, and make it fiercer."

Where this issue of reconciliation becomes especially pertinent is before Mass. We have had some blow ups before Mass, times when he has been in the wrong, and times where I have to be the one asking forgiveness.

Case in point: we had one of these episodes last week before Sunday Mass, and didn't have time to deal with it beforehand. I like to pray the rosary in the pew if we get to the church early enough, and invite the kids to join in with me. But something about praying when you have unforgiveness in your heart--whether its towards your son, your father, your wife, or a stranger--feels rotten and moldy, not to mention hypocritical. It becomes a kind of outward pious action when the inside is dead men's bones (Mt 23:27), an unholy oblation.

Not much keeps me from receiving the Lord in the Eucharist these days. I take to heart the words of St. Paul who says that we eat and drink condemnation on ourselves when we eat and drink in an unworthy manner (1 Cor 11:29). If I have committed a mortal sin, of course the need for the Sacrament of Penance prior to Communion is warranted. But I also know the Devil can use scruples against us to keep us from the Lord when it comes to less serious sins.

However, there are times when I am convicted not to receive Communion, and those are the times when I have anger in my heart, and a stubborn unforgiveness towards someone, that has not been reconciled.

We read in Matthew's Gospel where our Lord says:

“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift." (Mt 5:23-24)

St. John Chrysostom, again, expounds on this exegetically much better than I can:

"Yea, for this cause He said not, "after the offering," or "before the offering"; but, while the very gift lies there, and when the sacrifice is already beginning, He sends you to be reconciled to your brother; and neither after removing that which lies before us, nor before presenting the gift, but while it lies in the midst, He bids you hasten there. 

With what motive then does He command so to do, and wherefore? These two ends, as it appears to me, He is hereby shadowing out and providing for. First, as I have said, His will is to point out that He highly values charity, and considers it to be the greatest sacrifice: and that without it He does not receive even that other; next, He is imposing such a necessity of reconciliation, as admits of no excuse. For whoever has been charged not to offer before he be reconciled, will hasten, if not for love of his neighbor, yet, that this may not lie unconsecrated, to run unto him who has been grieved, and do away the enmity. For this cause He has also expressed it all most significantly, to alarm and thoroughly to awaken him. Thus, when He had said, Leave your gift, He stayed not at this, but added, before the altar (by the very place again causing him to shudder); and go away. And He said not merely, Go away, but He added, first, and then come and offer your gift. By all these things making it manifest, that this table receives not them that are at enmity with each other."

St. John Chrysostom notes that charity is the greatest sacrifice. The Catechism notes that charity is superior to all the virtues (CCC 1826). 1 Cor 13:13 is where we often hear of the virtue of "faith, hope, and love," but that the Greek term used is agape, or selfless love. Charity is the love of God and the love of neighbor for the sake of God. When you think of an altar, there is a liturgical/religious connotation. The altar is not the place where we gather around as brothers and sisters, holding hands and breaking bread together in a common meal (except maybe in instances of egregious liturgical abuse). The altar is primarily the place of sacrifice, and it is about God.

And yet, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit," one He will not despise (Ps 51:17). "I desire mercy, not sacrifice," says the Lord (Hos 6:6). St. James writes of pure and undefiled religion as caring for widows and orphans in their affliction (James 1:27). And St. John recognizes anyone as a liar who say they love God but do not love his brother or sister (1 Jn 4:20). And

Your conscience knows when things are not right between you and a spouse, a child, a parent, or a friend. Charity demands we not hesitate, that we leave our gift "lie in the midst" to attend to the work of seeking forgiveness and reconciliation. It becomes our sacrifice, one pleasing to the Lord. Any gift or offering we bring without attending to this first is noxious to Him.

Before the sun goes down, reconcile to those whom you have wronged and seek forgiveness, and to those who have wronged you, forgive them. Charity, an oblation perfect and pleasing and to God, demands it.

"Daddy, Why Can't I Stop Sinning?" And Other Conversations

"Daddy, why can't I stop sinning?" my seven year old asked me this evening. He wasn't overly upset, but was clearly wrestling with something.

"What do you mean, son?" I asked.

"I mean, I keep on doing bad things. I say bad things to Mommy, and even to God, when I get angry. Even in my mind. And it's like I can't stop."

I asked him to come over and sit on my lap. "Do you remember what happened in the Garden of Eden?" I asked him.

"Satan tricked Adam and Eve," he replied.

"Yes, and do you remember what that sin that we inherited from them was called?" I asked.

"Original Sin," he replied.

"Yes, that's right. That's why we need the grace that comes in Baptism, to wash away Original Sin."

"But then why do I keep on sinning?" he asked, with a quiver. "Why do I keep offending God?"

"Well, even though we baptism takes away Original Sin and the punishment due to sin, we still have a big word called concupiscence. The effect of Original Sin, why we do bad things, remains. That was the consequence of Adam's sin, that we have to deal with in our lives. Do you want to read some scripture to learn more about concupiscence?"

[Nods]

"This is from St. Paul's letter to the Romans":

"For we know that the Law is spiritual, but I am of flesh, sold into bondage to sin. For what I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate. But if I do the very thing I do not want to do, I agree with the Law, confessing that the Law is good. So now, no longer am I the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not. For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want. But if I am doing the very thing I do not want, I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me.

I find then the principle that evil is present in me, the one who wants to do good. For I joyfully concur with the law of God in the inner man, but I see a different law in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin which is in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, on the one hand I myself with my mind am serving the law of God, but on the other, with my flesh the law of sin" (Rom 7:14-25).

"You see, we all sin. Mommy sins and Daddy sins, and you sin too. But we have a Savior who died for us so that we don't have to suffer the punishment of Hell that we inherited from Adam. He gives us the grace to resist sin, but in our weakness we fall. But you can go into your war room and get on your knees and ask for God's forgiveness when you sin, when you say hurtful things or don't obey your mom and me, or even when you are angry with God and say mean things to Him. He loves you and He will forgive you if you are sorry. Does that make sense?"

"But what about the worst sins?" he asked.

"Let's read some more scripture. Do you want to?"

[Nods]

"Listen to this. This is also from Paul's letter to the Romans, the next chapter":

"Who will bring a charge against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, yes, rather who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written,

“For Your sake we are being put to death all day long; We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Rom 8:33-39)

"So you see my son, there is nothing that can separate us from the love of Christ. You can always repent, say you are sorry and resolve to amend your ways, and God will forgive your sins.  We are blessed to be Christians, because we have a Savior who loves us. You will make your first Confession next year. That is when you tell your sins to a priest, but it is actually Jesus acting in the person of the priest, who forgives you."

He was getting sleepy by this point. I could tell he was remorseful for his outbursts the other day. He did not want to sin, but kept sinning, even when he didn't want to. We spoke about the conscience, and how it is a great gift from God for us to know our sins, so that we can repent of them and seek forgiveness. Christ is the Divine Physician who wants us to be healthy, and sin makes us sick, but that he has the cure for that sickness.

He wanted to make up with his mother, but in private. He headed upstairs, wanting to be read to from his Catholic Bible. My son is a sinner like the rest of us. But like his namesake, he is a boy after God's own heart. And he has a great, great Savior in whom he can rest, for his yoke is easy, and his burden light.

New Year, New Look...and New Option to Subscribe by Email!

Happy New Year! Wisdom and Folly is about to break the 100,000 page view mark, according to my fancy little widget. I'm a bit tech challenged, but have been playing around with the layout on Blogger and I've decided on a new layout and look. I like it! Do you?

One reason for the change was subtle, but important: White background/black text, which is a change from the dark background and white text prior. Hopefully this is easier on the viewer's eyes, and makes copying and pasting easier.

Also, exciting news! You can now SUBSCRIBE to the blog to get email notifications when a new post goes live. I can't believe it's taken me this long to get this feature up. I told you I was tech challenged! Click SUBSCRIBE at top left under "Wisdom and Folly" and enter your email, and you'll be notified of new posts moving forward. I think. If you don't get emails let me know. Tech challenged. Thank you Jesus!

Another change! If you are a member of this blog, you should be able to comment now. I had some issues in the past with comment bombing, so had disabled it. All the more reason to follow! Shoot me an email via the contact form if you're not able to comment for some reason.

I think that's it for now. I always appreciate you sharing via social media should you feel inclined, even though I am off Facebook now.

And mostly, please continue to pray for me! I never make a dime off this blog, no ads, but as long as the Lord is being glorified, I am a blessed man.

Here's to a blessed year to everyone. Cheers.

Rob

For The Love Of God, Stick It Out

I often tread a fine line in my writing-slash-blogging between the objective and the subjective. When I err too much on the side of the objective (the scholarly/theological/cultural, etc), I find myself a little out of my element. I'm not a scholar, nor am I a theologian, a pundit, or an expert in anything of any real significance. I don't have the time or aptitude for thoroughly researched and footnoted posts.

Most of the time by default, then, I end up writing about my experiences (ie, the subjective) as a Catholic, a father, a husband, and a disciple of Jesus Christ. I write about my faith and my wife and my family and our life, joys and struggles.

This comes with its own dangers. For one, I don't ever want to set myself as some kind of expert in anything. I may write about what I know, but that doesn't mean I know it all. If I write about the faith, it doesn't make me a saint. If I write about being a dad, it doesn't make me an all-star. If I write about marriage, believe me, it doesn't make me an expert.

Secondly, I don't want to expose my family to anything that would compromise us, and the internet can be a dark and creepy place. I've been encouraged to keep writing over the years, even and especially at times when I would rather keep a lower profile. Thankfully, most of the small and faithful who read this blog are, I would like to think, people of good will. That keeps me going, especially your prayers.

It's easy to lose sight of things, to think you're bigger or more influential than you are.  I've seen bloggers go from small and relatable to having huge followings. Some have handled it well, others I feel have lost touch and gone one of two routes: they either water down their message to not offend and attract larger audiences with frivolities; or they go hard line and uncompromising, since controversy and click baity titles stoke the stats.

In the end, it doesn't really matter much.

What does matter is the tangibles: Your actual faith, not what you package or market. Your actual marriage, not the veneer you present when on couples dinner dates with friends. Your actual relationship with your children, not how active they are in sports and music lessons and activities. And to the extent these things get compromised by the incidentals like being a public figure, blogger, or celebrity, your own busyness/workaholism, or a compromising personal situation with a member of the opposite sex, it may be wise to take the Matthew 5:29 approach--and amputate it, before irrevocable damage is done.

Every time I hear of a close friend (last week), acquaintance (periodically), or even a celebrity bloggers getting divorced, it always takes me by surprise. Most of the time, it feels like it comes out of the blue. I've found that by the time you pick up on things being bad, it's past the point of parties wanting to stick it out or work on it. And most of the time I had no idea. Most of my friends--I have no idea what kind of shape their marriages are in, if they are headed towards divorce, if they are stagnant and simply tolerating one another, or if things are healthy.

There are the social media facades, like the Watts family case, which was really disturbing. Today a personal finance blogger I've followed for a number of years, before he was famous, broke the news that he is getting divorced. Now, this is a liberal humanist environmentalist who espouses things like stoicism, efficiency, and hedonistic adaptation, without a covenant understanding of marriage, but it still took the winds out of my sails for some reason. I had no idea. I read through all 200+ comments on his blog and it was all people wishing him well, that they were sad for him but it's probably for the best. Most were divorced themselves, and touting divorce as traumatic but better than being in an unhappy marriage. Not one person argued for him to try sticking it out, that without knowing details of course but that maybe, just maybe, their reasons were not good enough for parting ways.

Even people of faith, people who should at least in theory have a covenant view of marriage, are not immune to divorce. I know it happens, I know there are reasons for it happening, but I still hate hearing about it. Part of it because you know the suffering ahead for the party, but also because it undermines your confidence in your own marriage, which up to that point may have been solid. If such-and-such couple or friends are throwing in the towel, what says you and your spouse won't either? Even if it's not likely or reasonable to think it, the spectre of doubt has been introduced.

I'm not interested in judging anyone, but I have never felt like I was in a position to be of help to someone in a troubled marriage. Most of the time the decision is already made. It is a small minority of those fighting the juggernaut of no-fault divorce. For those who want to stay and fight for their marriage, even in the wake of infidelity and/or some other kind of massive betrayal, they are fighting an uphill legal battle that does not support them. It truly is a David and Goliath situation.

My wife and I are coming up on nine years of marriage, a drop in the bucket of a lifetime. We are good and strong, but life can be funny and the future unknown. I think they best and simplest advice I read was from Catholic Answers on the topic of insulating your marriage from divorce, written by a Canon lawyer:

Pray Together

Eat Together

Play Together

Hold Hands 

I notice when I am not praying, when that has been put on the back burner, other things get compromised. If I'm not spending time with my spouse (like making time to have dinner together as a family), our relationship is not getting fuel or oxygen. When we're dour and snippy with each other, it's often because of stress and not having fun together. And it's hard to fight when you're holding hands (a good practice, if you can swing it, during those heated occasions. Feels counter-intuitive, but is effective)

Some Christian mom-blogger left her husband of 14 years to be with her lesbian lover and her ex-husband has this to say about the new family relationship to the WaPo:

“They’re lucky kids, to be surrounded by so much love. We have family dinners together — all six of us — and Abby cooks. (She is an AMAZING chef because Jesus loves me). We go to the kids’ school parties together. We are a modern, beautiful family. Our children are loved. So loved. And because of all of that love, they are brave.”

I don't know if that's how he really feels or if he's putting on a good face, but I find it gag-worthy. Enough with the PC-tripe. Kids want their moms and dads, together, whatever it takes. Marriage is hard, and is worth fighting for. I know there are some valid reasons for separation, but I like the Catholic Church's stance that ties you to the mast with your vows--til death do you part. It is hard. Thankfully I've known people who've been through hell in their marriages and have made it through to the other side by God's grace and with His help, and life together in their golden years is a testament to riding through the storms and living to tell the tale. They give me hope, when my hope gets shaken by friends, family, and acquaintances' marriages getting mowed down left and right by Satan's machine gun fire. He is out to destroy the family. It was revealed to the children at Fatima that this is his plan.

You can not fight if you do not pray. Pray for your spouse, and better, pray with your spouse. Pray for your children and bless them. Be stubborn, and be selfless. Fast. Devote yourself to the Holy Family. Amputate as necessary those things from your life that would compromise your marriage. Do everything in your power to stay married, and when your strength leaves you, throw yourself on the Cross. Just, whatever you do, for the love of God...stick it out.

Two Fingers To Death: On Siberia, Sedes, and Schism

"I follow no leader but Christ and join in communion with none but your blessedness [Pope Damasus I], that is, with the chair of Peter. I know that this is the rock on which the Church has been built. Whoever eats the Lamb outside this house is profane. Anyone who is not in the ark of Noah will perish when the flood prevails" (St. Jerome, Letters 15:2 [A.D. 396])


One of the nice things about being on break and off from work for a week is having time to, well, waste. Exhibit #1: trading an hour of my time on the couch watching a young British man build a cabin in the woods out of shipping pallets with his dad...one nail and plank at a time. No words, just sawing and hammering. My son loved it. I couldn't believe I watched the whole thing from start to finish. (6.5 million views on YouTube, btw)

The rabbit hole that is Youtube then suggested to me a documentary about a woman who lived in the taiga of the Russian wilderness as a hermit for seventy years. Sounds about up my alley. A film crew spent two days traveling by river to document her life. One of four children, she had been living alone for the past twenty seven years after the last of her family died. Her mother starved to death in the sixties. The woman's name was Agafia.

She would not accept bags of flour that had a barcode, because barcodes were a sign of the Beast. "Worldly life is frightening," she says, "If Christians sing worldly songs, they're doomed to eternal suffering. Same for music. Everyone who enjoys dancing creates infamy."

Ok, this was kind of interesting. She seemed of sound mind, yet lived in some of the harshest conditions on earth, alone, as a sixty nine year old woman, with a large tumor on her breast, surviving on potatoes and turnips, fish from the stream, bread, and bark. Her hands were gnarly from chopping down trees and stripping branches for the goats, starting fires with flint and tinder, and carrying pales of water.

But I didn't understand her faith. She was obviously a Christian believer, and I just assumed she was Russian Orthodox.

"My father's ancestors were true Christian believers. Ever since Prince Vladimir brought Christianity to Russian lands, our faith has been passed from generation to generation."

That faith, I learned later as the film progressed, was the faith of the "Old Believers" or "Old Ritualists" which can only be understood in a historical context.

In the 17th century, the Patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church, Patriarch Nikon, desired to unify the liturgical discrepancies between the Russian and Greek Orthodox churches and made heavy-handed (and, arguably, sloppy) ecclesiastical reforms. Old Believers, as they identified, rejected the reforms and clung tightly to what they saw as the original expression of the true Faith. Agafia describes this perspective in the film:

"Christ died on the cross for the whole world. He descended into Hell to free the righteous. But Patriarch Nikon went back to Hell to confer with Satan. So he introduced new laws. He was...the ultimate Satanist. He abolished the two-fingered sign of the cross handed down to us by Christ himself, changed books and church dogma, exterminated all our priests. They tortured Old Believers and imprisoned them."

With the State backing the reforms, they anathematized the old rites and books and those who still used them. Old Believers were arrested and executed, and those who fled went to Lithuania, Ukraine, and Romania. Others, like Agafia's family, stayed in Russia, and hid in the Siberian wilderness to escape persecution.

Agafia seemed to belong to the more extreme and ascetic Bezpopovtsy grouping of Old Believers, who were largely priestless (in contrast to the more moderate conservative Popovtsy faction) and believed the world had fallen into the hands of the AntiChrist. "Only those Christians who hold on to the true faith of Christ, commit good deeds, repent and pray to the Lord for forgiveness will receive God's mercy," Agafia tells the camera crew, filming her praying the Psalms in her dark and crowded cabin. This passing on of a faith in isolation, sans priests or ecclesiastical lineage, seems to be the Orthodox equivalent of the Kakure Kirishitan in Japan, who were also forced into isolation due to persecution in the 17th century and who emerged with a deformed faith barely recognizable to Catholicism:

"With their Scripture forgotten, no real creed, and no catalogue of doctrines, the practice of this religion has evolved into a narrow fidelity to ancestral rituals.

"This is the only thing they have the ceremony," Whelan said. "That becomes their dogma. You have to do it right, you have to say the prayers right, or it won't have power. In the absence of other things that most other traditions have, this becomes the thing you've got to be true to."

"I do think that they are religious men in their own way," she said, that their prayers are directed toward God.

A tiny Catholic Church on Narushima attracts a small congregation, but the Kakure Kirishitan priests are not interested in joining it. Although they probably understand intellectually the relationship between Kakure Kirishitan and the Catholic Church, Catholicism to them remains foreign and removed.

...In the last two priests the universal religious struggle between the conservative and the liberal. One priest, in being correct to the past, is blind to the realities around him. The other, attempting to make the ritual relevant to those who don't truly understand the tradition, makes compromises that dilute the best of what had been preserved."

In a largely Protestantized country like the United States, it may be hard to understand the interconnectedness of ritual and dogma that the Eastern church has always held, that church rituals had from the beginning represented and symbolized doctrinal truth. Old Believers felt that such seemingly innocuous changes as using three fingers instead of two to make the sign of the Cross, or translations that altered pronunciation, struck at the heart of their faith, and they would rather go to their death than deny Christ, who was Truth itself. The famous personification of this in the Surikov painting of the exiling of Boyaryna Morozova (considered a martyr-saint among Old Believers), being carried away by sled while holding up the iconic "two fingers" in defiance.

I found the history of the Orthodox Church in Russia interesting, as I wasn't super familiar with this period in history. We tend to get tunnel vision as Westerners and Americans and Catholics, so it's good I think to peak out from time to time to get some perspective. What I saw in this documentary, as peculiar and specifically geo-religious as it appeared to be, tended to reinforce the general anthropological struggles of religion and religious expression: conservative vs progressive, traditional vs reformed, true vs schismatic believers. It happens in all the world religions: Sunnis and Shias in Islam, Orthodox and Reformed Judaism. Buddhists of the Mahayana school use the pejorative term "Hinayana" ("Lesser Vehicle") to describe Theravada (Traditional) Buddhism, a term Theravada Buddhists would find offensive.

In our own Church, we have a Pope that some on the extreme end think of as an Anti Christ and not validly elected. The issues of today are different yet similar to the struggles of Agafia and her family: Sedevacantists who believe there has not been a validly elected pope since Pope Pius XII was elected in 1958 due to the embracing of the heresy of modernism.

We have heard of the "Spirit of Vatican II" Catholicism (the kind of mirror that reflects this heresy of modernism and botched, sloppy, jarring roll-out of universal liturgical reforms for the world to see) being in contrast to the actual documents of the Second Vatican Council. Catholics would call sedevacantists schismatic on the grounds that they do not accept the authority of the Pope (whether Pope Francis, Pope Benedict XVI, Pope John Paul II and I, Pope Paul VI, or Pope John XXIII). No authority=no Catholicism.

A sedevacantist may counter that the Church forfeited that authority in its embrace of heresy, and the seat of Peter being vacant is a sign of the times for true believers, or which they would count themselves. They did not leave the Church; the Church left them. They are willing to suffer and endure in defense of what they see as the Old Faith, the True Faith, before it was corrupted.

So, these things are nothing new. "Bad" popes are nothing new, and schism is nothing new. Desires for an authentic orthodox expression of faith and reforms of reforms as a way of getting to the "heart of things" apart from ritual and dogma (Protestantism) is nothing new. It can be viewed historically, yes. But for the believer (or, in some cases, for the new convert trying to navigate these choppy ecclesial waters), these are highly personal and important things. A believer like Boyaryna Morozova would rather be tortured and exiled to Siberia than use three fingers instead of two to make the sign of the cross, while another Christian believer might have no problem re-baptizing a new member of their congregation in accordance with their norms of belief.

I suspect Agafia's story is a mix of Russian fortitude, admirable stubbornness, dogmatic integrity, and religious fervor. For a foreigner watching from their computer screen thousands of miles away in the comfort of a heated and air conditioned dwelling, who may have skipped church to do some shopping or stay in their pjs, it may be an anthropological curiosity. But it also presents us with the questions: what is the true Faith? Are we willing to die, be exiled, live cut off from society, to preserve it? Does it really matter whether we use two fingers or three in rituals like the Sign of the Cross? Who has the authority to interpret scripture, proclaim dogma, and excommunicate? What makes one Catholic?

For me that last part is the one that isn't a real struggle: you cannot be Catholic without the pope. You may be more austere in your penance, more sincere in your convictions, more virtuous in your service, and more astute in your apologetics. But if you don't have the pope, you are on your own.

Pope Francis is not my kind of pope. I find his words and exhortations ambiguous and confusing. I've been critical of him in the past in my own little world of preference and influence. I don't even doubt what I'm reading in Malachi Martin's "Windswept House" about the smoke of Satan entering the Church, as Paul VI warned.  But who cares what I think or prefer? He is still my pope. I cannot separate my religious expression from subjection to his authority as universal head of the Church of Christ.

To apostatize is not only to deny Christ but to deny the Faith. They are not separate, just as being Catholic and recognizing the Pope as the head of the Church are not separable. I have no real knowledge and no real virtue, no real suffering to my name, no beautiful liturgy to extol, and no real merit to bring before Christ when I meet Him at the Last Judgment. And I have no other ark to cling to in this life but the Church. I am adrift without her. So I will cling to that. Pope and all.

"There is one God and one Christ, and one Church, and one chair founded on Peter by the word of the Lord. It is not possible to set up another altar or for there to be another priesthood besides that one altar and that one priesthood. Whoever has gathered elsewhere is scattering" (Cyprian of Carthage, Letters 43[40]:5 [A.D. 253]).