Sex Is The Snare

A Commentary on Proverbs 7, on my twelfth wedding anniversary.

 [1] My son, keep my words, and lay up my precepts with thee. Son, [2] Keep my commandments, and thou shalt live: and my law as the apple of thy eye: [3] Bind it upon thy fingers, write it upon the tables of thy heart. [4] Say to wisdom: Thou art my sister: and call prudence thy friend, [5] That she may keep thee from the woman that is not thine, and from the stranger who sweeteneth her words.

Notice the "who" and the "what" in v 1-5. An elder is giving exhortation to a younger. He has traveled longer, farther, and seen the end and where it leads. Like a seasoned scout, he admonishes the younger to "keep my words." Notice the "what" as well. What should be the "apple of one's eye?" This is typically a moniker for one's beloved. But what should be the apple of one's eye? Their spouse? No, "my law." It is wisdom which should be one's first love, the captivator--not as a lover here, but as a sister. Of the wife: "may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be intoxicated with her love" (Prov 5:19). But like a sister, "wisdom is sweet to the soul" (Prov 24:14). 

[6] For I look out of the window of my house through the lattice, [7] And I see little ones, I behold a foolish young man, [8] Who passeth through the street by the corner, and goeth nigh the way of her house. [9] In the dark, when it grows late, in the darkness and obscurity of the night, [10] And behold a woman meeteth him in harlot's attire prepared to deceive souls; talkative and wandering,

Married lovers can communicate, after a number of years, with wordless words. They speak with deft gestures, looks, and the silence of what is not said. A fool, on the other hand, multiplies words (Ecc 10:14). The woman here, provocatively dressing her line as a fisherman ties his lure to bait ignorant fish, is "talkative," multiplying her words. She has "her [own] house," and yet is out looking to "deceive" by being out and about, "wandering." The young man's first mistake was "going nigh the way of her house." And not during the day, when there is accountability and witnesses in bystanders, but under cloak of night, "when it grows late."

The foolish harlot uses her many words to capture the hearts and loins of the young men, because she cannot stand silence, or staying put. The dutiful wife speaks to her beloved's heart in silence, as the years go on in their marriage, because words become extraneous and unnecessary in this communion. In contrast, the harlot hasn't the peace of silence, and is instead agitated by it. She is like a gyrovague, "who spend their entire lives drifting from region to region, staying as guests for three or four days in different monasteries. Always on the move, they never settle down, and are slaves to their own wills and gross appetites." (Rule of St. Benedict, Ch 1:10-11). 

[11] Not bearing to be quiet, not able to abide still at home, [12] Now abroad, now in the streets, now lying in wait near the corners. [13] And catching the young man, she kisseth him, and with an impudent face, flattereth, saying: [14] I vowed victims for prosperity, this day I have paid my vows. [15] Therefore I am come out to meet thee, desirous to see thee, and I have found thee.

The trap of adultery is the bait set in the jaws of narcissism. For even for young lovers, their love is full of ego--they love to be loved. As married couples age, they realize this intoxication of "falling in love" is a lure of the Lord, for were they to know the difficulties of the road and years ahead, they may never have married. "Lord, you tricked me, and I was tricked. You overpowered me and won" (Jer 20:7). 

And so the wayward woman sharpens and weaponizes the irons of her words, nuget covered barbs, but not before "catching" the young man and making him drunk with the tantalizing kiss which promises "more where that came from." She disarms his reason with a flaming arrow of what would normally be reserved for the altar. She even entices with a play on words, "vowing victims for prosperity...paying my vows." Were he not disarmed by a kiss, he may have remembered his own vows, but she has gone on the cunning offensive before he has a chance. 

See, too, the bait of narcissism. "You have come out to meet ME? Desirous to see ME? Found ME?" The young man is suddenly a willful object of desire, in his mind. Flattery baits the trap, for "pleasant words are a honeycomb" (Prov 16:24). 

[16] I have woven my bed with cords, I have covered it with painted tapestry, brought from Egypt. [17] I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. [18] Come, let us be inebriated with the breasts, and let us enjoy the desired embraces, till the day appear. [19] For my husband is not at home, he is gone a very long journey. [20] He took with him a bag of money: he will return home the day of the full moon.

The words continue, now painting pictures of enticement in the mind of the brute. His mind is enthralled with the details of fantasy: "a woven bed, painted tapestry, perfumed." In his body, he is enraptured by her arms and mired in her kiss, but in his mind, he is transported beyond the streets to a exotic country, an intimate foreign chamber devoid of witnesses. For "even her husband is not home," and even the day of his return is set, "the day of the full moon" to allay the anxiety of an unexpected discovery. He is given a set window of opportunity, and he can't believe his fortune. A marathon of night-long inebriated passion. At this point, not only his mind swells with the opportunistic prospect. 

[21] She entangled him with many words, and drew him away with the flattery of her lips. [22] Immediately he followeth her as an ox led to be a victim, and as a lamb playing the wanton, and not knowing that he is drawn like a fool to bonds, [23] Till the arrow pierce his liver: as if a bird should make haste to the snare, and knoweth not that his life is in danger. [24] Now therefore, my son, hear me, and attend to the words of my mouth. [25] Let not thy mind be drawn away in her ways: neither be thou deceived with her paths.

Many words. Flattery. "Deceived by the flattery of fools" (Ecc 7:5). "Immediately" he follows her, his reason bludgeoned, any potential protest muzzled. He begins to be led like an ox to slaughter, captivated as Peter, Andrew, James, John, and Matthew were captivated and as in a trance, followed Christ to their ultimate death. "Immediately, they left the ship with their father, and followed him" (Mt 4:22). And yet it is not wisdom, or grace, or the precepts of the Lord that draw the young man away as his father's words recede in the background of his mind, but desire, inpropriety...the flesh. 

[26] For she hath cast down many wounded, and the strongest have been slain by her. [27] Her house is the way to hell, reaching even to the inner chambers of death.

But unlike the disciples--the followers of Christ who were led from their earthly ties and died for gain--the young victim is led to his spiritual deathbed by the earthly, the temporal, the honey-soaked poison, never to rise again. "The mighty are cast from their thrones" (Lk 1:52). And here the harlot, the temptor casts down the wounded--wounded reason, wounded conviction, wounded temperance. She has wounded virtue and sound mind with her arrows, "piercing his liver" like a bird. He joins the army of corpses, among them even "the strongest." For strength is impotent before desire, for desire disarms and dethrones a man from within. In the post-coital bed, the sheer drapes of fantasy dissolve and the "house, the inner chamber" which brought him here has become his prison, his hell, his death. 

"For as wisdom is a defence, so money is a defence : but learning and wisdom excel in this, that they give life to him that possesseth them" 

(Ecc 7:12)

Just A Reminder (for new readers)

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Thank you for your readership, and I hope to hear from you at some point. 

Paul

Christian Hope In The Face Of Old Age, Disease, And Death

 As some readers may know, my path to Christianity was circumspent, and began with the discovery of the Four Noble Truths, the "Creed" of Buddhism. It goes something like this:

1. All life is suffering (our undisputable state of being)

2. Suffering is caused by desire/attachment (the cause of that state of being)

3. There is an end to the cycle of suffering (the hope of cessation of the affliction)

4. The Eight-fold Path is that way (the cure for the disease)

The Four Noble Truths, from an anthropological standpoint, made sense to me at the age of seventeen. Suffering (dhukka, better translated as "dissatisfaction") for me was experiential; I lived it. Most of us experience this dissatisfaction without even realizing it--that there is, or should be, something more to this life than fleeing experiences, temporary expiation of existential loneliness, and the hamster wheel of chasing after carnal satisfactions that don't last. 

It also made sense that our chasing of these mirages of temporary respite in this life was due to the desire for permanence--a permanence which may itself be a mirage. 

One would end up a nihilist if they stopped there, but the carrot of hope--hope which is essential to human fulfillment--would encourage an inquisition into a cure, and a physician for the disease. Did one exist? Did any man ever transcend this eternal cycle of samsara, the world of illusion and desire? For Buddhists, the answer is yes, and that man was the Buddha (meaning, "one who is awake"), who achieved this permanent state of detachment and prescribed the cure for others to follow: the Eight-Fold Path (which we don't have to get into). 

Siddhārtha Gautama (who would be later known by followers as Gautama Buddha) was born in Nepal about 500 BC. He was a prince, born into a wealthy family, and lived a pampered, sheltered life as a young man. He had everything he could want or need. One day, he wandered away from the palace and encountered a sick man, an old man, and a dying man. It rocked his world, and he realized this was the eventual state of all men. 

When he encountered a holy man, he abandoned his former life and became an extreme ascetic. Neither extreme--complete indulgence, or complete denial, gave him the peace he sought. Eventually he sat under a tree (the bhodi tree) and vowed not to leave until he "woke up" from this nightmare existence. It is said this is where he achieved enlightenment (Nirvana) after 49 days of meditation, and then in an act of compassion, eventually shared this "way out" with his first disciples. 

For most Buddhists, or those who practice Buddhism, one can spend their whole life trying to achieve this state, and never achieve it. The belief in reincarnation (which is, of course, incompatible with Christian soteriology/anthropology) states that one will be "reborn" into other states after death (human and non-human), and will continue in this cycle for all eternity until the state of Nirvana is achieved and they are finally freed from the hampster wheel of desire. 

* * *

Christians are not (or should not be, at least) religious syncretists. Buddhist practice is incompatible with Christian belief, and should not be encouraged. That doesn't mean, however, that there are not some commonalities in the human condition. With regards to the Four Noble Truths of Existence for a Buddhist outlined agove, a Christian may find some overlap and truth (small 't') here as they relate to this "problem" of old age, disease and death. 

Modern man suffers because of his attachments to an idea of permanence in this life--that the one-night stand will satisfy the desire for love or physical pleasure; that the discomfort of want can be satisfied by food or drink or technology; that the people we care about will not die or leave us; that we will live forever. We chase these transitory pleasures, these mirages, and tell ourselves "this time, it will last." But it doesn't, and never will. 

St. Augustine knew this state intimately, and wandered himself in the desert of carnal desire, learning, and esoteric philosophy looking for an oasis that wasn't a mirage. What he found was the gospel (the Word), and, ultimately, the Way (which is Christ).  

Like all Christians (and unlike disciples of Buddha), Augustine found that the path to transcendence of our mortal, corrupt state did not rest in his own abilities or determination, but in the God-man Christ. In conquering death by death, and in his great compassion and love for mankind allowing us to share in his divinity by partaking in our humanity, Christ did what no mortal man could do--restore us to friendship with God the Creator and give us eternal life after we pass from this world. It is grace, not self-determination, that frees us from the bondage of sin and redeems our fallen nature. For the Buddhist in their philosophical/religious world-view, your escape depends entirely on you and your efforts. For Christians, your salvation depends entirely on Christ and faith in him that redemption is possible.

There is no greater contrast between a believing Christian and a secular non-believer (or lukewarm Christian) than in a hospice ward (old age), a hospital (disease), and a funeral (death). 

We know that as a result of the Fall of man, we do not and will not live forever here on earth. All men grow old, and in doing so we revert to almost an infantile state of helplessness and dependence. For the Christian who grows in wisdom and acceptance (detachment from the idea that we will or should live forever) during their earthly life, we know we are soon passing to our eternal reward. We appreciate good health, but not as an absolute, or something to be clinged to--unlike those in the world who obsess about their bodies and cardiograms. Our spiritual preparation in this life will determine how "well" we age, as St. Robert Bellarmine says, "those who live well will die well." 

For believing (Catholic) Christians, physical suffering too can be redemptive. Because Christ physically suffered as a man, we can endure our physical suffering as partakers in his nature as a man. Our physical bodies are not our permanent state of existence; it is the soul that lives forever. And yet even then, our physical bodies are not cast off like snake-skin, but will (in faith and hope) be redeemed and glorified in the resurrection of the dead. While the secular man seeks every respite from suffering and discomfort, the Christian will enter into his suffering and offer it up in union with Christ's, and for the salvation of souls.

And because Death was conquered once and for all by Christ on the cross, the believing Christian should have no fear of death. His sentence, should he die in a state of grace and penitent, is Life, and life eternal. Christians in this state of being do not despair at the end of this earthly life, or shudder at the thought of being "reincarnated" into some lower level of existence, but rejoice in entering into eternal reward in Heaven with the communion of saints. Funerals, then, are somber but joyful affairs for the believing Christian when one has this faith, hope, and assurance, while their secular counterparts struggle to make sense of where a man goes after he dies.  

For the Christian believer, the Way is not a formula or a prescription, but the man Christ himself who opened the door to Heaven for us to join him there in spiritual union. The way out of dissatisfaction, craving, and transcendence does not depend on meditating our way to perfection, but in abandoning ourselves to the man Christ who offers by the free gift of grace an exit and assurance of salvation. We are not to be reborn in perpetuity, but redeemed eternally, both body and soul. It is in faith, hope, and charity that we devote ourselves to this Way, working out our salvation with joyful anticipation for what awaits us after old age, disease, and death. 

Divorce Is Short-Sighted Suicide

I met with a buddy who is going through a divorce the other day for a few beers at the riverfront. He is not a Christian, nor is his wife, but he is a good friend. It's a typical story--his wife was not "happy" and sought happiness in the arms of someone else, probably as a sabotage "out"--and the divorce proceedings are pretty typical as well: mediation, division of assets, custody arrangement, etc. He was blindsighted and gutted at first, but is now accepting, dating and trying to get his finances in order, find a place to live, etc. I had given him a copy of my friend Leila's Impossible Marriages Redeemed about the story of people who have been through similar circumstances, but with the help of grace stood on their vows. It didn't make a difference in the end, as I expected. Most people who have decided on ending their marriages have their minds made up. 

As Christians, we should love what the Lord loves, and hate what He hates. And God hates divorce.

“For I hate divorce,” says the Lord, the God of Israel, “and him who covers his garment with violence,” says the Lord of armies. “So be careful about your spirit, that you do not deal treacherously.” (Mal 2:16)

Divorce is violent. It may not seem like it in otherwise "amicable" parting of ways. But you can't tear asunder what was seared together without violence.

Jesus tells the Jews, “Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because your hearts were hard. But it was not this way from the beginning" (Mt 19:8). His disciples are taken aback, and reply “If this is the situation between a husband and wife, it is better not to marry" (Mt 19:10). 

Which is exactly what many Millenials are doing today. 

While it is true that the U.S. divorce rate has dropped eighteen percent from 2008 to 2016, Millenials co-habitating rather than tying the knot has contributed to this. The shocking fact is that the rate of divorce has more than doubled for people over 50 since 1990. These are people who should be entering the "golden years" of their lives and growing old together, but instead are abadonding their vows and inducing a surge in the rate of so-called "gray divorce."

One might think it admirable that divorcing after the kids a grown is a merciful act of love for children, but as my friend Leila also details in her previous book, Primal Loss: The Now-Adult Children of Divorce Speak, it's anything but. Adult children are as much if not more blindsided and affected by this betrayal. The pain and adverse effects are very real, but often pushed down and suppressed. It's "supposed" to be ok. It's supposed to be normal. 

But it's not. What's normal is making vows, staying true to them til death, and working through the crap life throws at you together, not abandoning ship. That's what vows are for--otherwise they are meaningless. There may be circumstances in which staying married may not be possible, but in many situations divorce, like contraception and abortion, is the tempting "out" based in convenience, not threats to life or well-being.

There are the spiritual elements of divorce--especially when one chooses to remarry and enter into adulterous relationships rather than remain divorce and remarried. But marriage is not a wholly spiritual affair. There are pragmatic considerations in getting married, and pragmatic considerations in getting divorced. One of which is financial. 

It shouldn't be underestimated, either. In these so-called "gray divorces," wealth drops by around 50%, and the standard of living for women plunges 45%. U.S. women 63 and older who went through a gray divorce have a poverty rate of 27%, more than any other group at that age, including widows, and nine times the rate of couples who stay married (3%). Not to mention the effects on health, depression, and the increased risk of suicide.   

Divorce is short-sighted, because, like suicide, we only see the pain and hardships we are in in the moment and can't see out. When presented with an "out" like taking one's life or ending one's marriage, most people will take it if anything to alleviate their short-term pain and feelings of being trapped. Our society is not comfortable with suffering. Maybe we should not hand someone a gun when they say they are feeling hopeless. 

No-fault divorce is this gun. Like drugs, it is a scourge on our society. It does not inspire virtue, does not teach delayed-gratification, does not inspire selflessness or endurance. Also like drugs, it is presented as a way to alleviate one's pain. But it only presents more problems, more unhappiness, and more sense of loss in the end. 

Success And Failure In the Christian Life

 People often wonder why those with "everything" in this worldly life--money, success, recognition--would end their lives, or fall into depression or loneliness, or turn to drugs or alcohol. These are sometimes seen as "first world problems" by those who struggle with things like putting enough food on the table, or political instability, or violence. 

For the Christian, this should be obvious--we were not made for this world, and as St. Augustine famously said, "our hearts are restless, until they rest in you" (ie, the "God-shaped hole"). It's why I am deeply suspicious of and find offensive the "health and wealth" prosperity gospel, as well as, to a degree, Christian Nationalism. "God alone" should be our anthem, and all else secondary and subject to the first clause. 

Erik Erikson is the oft-quoted psychologist who laid out our human needs in eight fundamental stages (Theory of Psycho-Social Development). Interestingly, each stage of human development is judged in terms of "success" and "failure," and advancement to subsequent stages is predicated upon "success" in each stage. If an infant "fails" to develop trust in the early years of development, this will thwart their ability to be move on and be "successful" in the next stage (Autonomy/Shame) and harbor fear and axiety in the present stage of psycho-social retardation. 

In the Christian life, this development is somewhat inverted. When we put God first, and turn ourselves over completely to His divine will (loving God with our whole heart, mind, strength, and soul), our human needs for affirmation, bodily fulfillment, and industry are subjugated. We find ourselves able to not only endure loneliness, hunger, and poverty, but thrive and find joy despite these earthly misfortunes. We do not find God by setting ourselves up in comfort and security, having all our needs met at which point we can seek Him. We are essentially working backwards by putting "first things first," first of which is God. 

Of course, this first "stage" of abandonment can only take place by the virtue of humility (which comes by way of unmerited grace), the bedrock and cornerstone for all other virtues to build upon. What does humility entail? Admitting that we have "failed" to be masters of our own destiny; failed to find happiness in this life; failed to overcome concupisence and be "good" on our own.

Of course complete abandonment to the Divine Will (the Unitive) does not happen in the initial stages of Christian spiritual development. It is hardly achieved by even the most ardent Christians here on earth in this life, even after years of prayer and mortification of the senses. As long as we live, we will be continually falling and failing. We may have momentary periods of virtue or fortitude, but we are quickly snapped back like a rubberband into lives of selfishness and egotism. We can get stuck in this "purgative" stage, for years even, when we know what we ought to do, but find our will weak and unformed. 

For those who do learn self-mastery, the "illumantive" stage that follows is one marked by trial and testing, demanding continual growth and eschewing resting on one's laurels. Detachment, prayer, mortification...these are not easy things to maintain. It is called the "exercise" of the will for a reason, and this period of testing of one's intentions and motivations to move closer to God is not always uniform. We are aided along the way by grace, via consolations, but may also experience great desolations as a means of testing before advancement to the final stage, that of the "unitive" stage.

We sometimes neglect to realize that prayer, and the practice of virtue, are really habits. The more one habituates to discomfort, to prayer, to solitude and contemplation, to charity, the more it becomes second-nature. The unitive stage is marked by this "habit" which was developed in the Illumanative stage, and results in a continuous union in which one is not pre-occupied with their suffering, but transformed by it in light of the Divine Presence. This is not easily achieved, and is the mark of saints.

We have to ask ourselves "why?" though. Why do so few achieve this state, the most natural state of being for creatures created by God. The Lord certainly gives freely to all who ask for the grace to live totally for him, who knock in order to find Him (Mt 7:8). He bestows on us aid through the Sacraments, and arms us with sacramentals to fight against our selfish-nature and transcend our mortal senses and deficiencies. Grace is transformative, but it does depend on the co-operation of the will, and faith. This is why Christ could not work many miracles in Nazareth, because of the people's unbelief (Mt 13:58). If we do not become saints, we must be honest--it is because we did not wish to bad enough, or we lacked the faith that God could make it possible for us.

This is why the Cross is the ultimate sign of contradiction to the world. Christian perfection demands it, that we take up our own cross in order to follow him (Mt 16:24). It is also why the crucifixion is the ultimate "failure" in the lower order, the world--it failed to achieve the immediate restoration of Israel; it failed to spare Christ from bodily death; it failed to ensure that his followers would be spared from suffering and death themselves. 

Even today, the Cross does not promise "health and wealth." It does not promise to make sure all of our worldly needs are met. In fact, it often ensures that they are not, for if they were, we "may have too much and disown you and say, `Who is the LORD?'" (Prov 30:9). The Cross is truly "foolishness to those who are perishing." But to those who are being saved, it is the power of God (1 Cor 1:18).

This is why only those who persevere to the end will be saved (Mt 24:13). It does not mean we will not fall, not fail, as we make our way on the road carrying our tree. The weeds grow with the wheat, and a rolling stone gathers no moss, as the saying goes. But if the Enemy convinces us that we are only the sum total of our failures, he ceases our steps, and we do not advance but become stagnant and complacent, seeking fleeting bodily comfort, security, and the assurance of others. And then he wins. 

 It is not easy getting up time and time again after failures and setbacks in the spiritual life. It is hard, and often tiring. But isn't that the point? If sainthood was easy, everyone would achieve it. But the way to life is narrow, and few find it (Mt 7:14). As St Paul says, "to live is Christ, and to die is gain" (Phil 1:12). 

Our development as Christians is not about satisfying our own human needs or on achieving external milestones, but continually dying to self and living for Christ so that he might live in us. It does not depend completely on our own self-determination, but works in co-operation with grace, a grace freely given when asked for. The Lord did not, and will not, leave us orphans. Our failures in the world should always be seen in the light of Christ, and in the shadow cast by the cross. The fools who live for Christ will be the ones laughing in Heaven when this world has come to pass. 

The Laying On Of Hands And The Sins Of The Father

One of the great challenges for new Catholics and those coming back to the faith is the kind of cognitive dissonant tightrope one has to walk to reconcile seemingly disparagent elements of the faith. For the early Christians, especially during the Arian controversy, it was Christological: how can Christ be both man and God? In the post-Constantine era, it was "how are Christians to live as servants of God and subjects of the State?" In our present generation, the tension often comes down to the question of "how can the Church be called Holy when Her body is a rotting quagmire of corruption and filth?" Such a proposal is not only offensive for those who have been touched by the sullied cloth personally, but can often create a visceral gagging on the bone of hypocrisy. 

Once when I was doing street evangelization, I encountered a man who held nothing but contempt for the fact that we were out there, trying to spread the Good News of the gospel. It wasn't the Good News, of course, but the fact that we were regarded as agents of the Church, peddling rotten sacks of potatoes as healthy nourishment. It became clear after a few minutes of vitirol that his objections to our being there (and the Church as a whole) were not objective or theoretical in nature, but deeply personal. Although he didn't state it outright, I would wager this was a man who was himself Catholic and who was deeply wounded and scandalized by the abuse crisis within the Church and could not reconcile the reality of this abuse with anything good coming from it. I would even wager he may have been a victim of abuse himself at the hands of the Church. 

There is a saying that goes something like this, "Satan takes what is beautiful and tries to make it ugly. God takes what is ugly and makes it beautiful." I see so much beauty in the cleansing power of Christ to forgive sins, to restore our dignity as men, and to welcome us into his Kingdom. And yet, this often comes in the guise of having to look past the abject corruption oozing out of seemingly every pore in the Body of Christ, His Bride the Church here on earth. 

This is one of those posts where I'm reticent to "go there," in bringing something to light that may be best hidden or unspoken. I hope to do so delicately, but I may fail in that to convey the point. And the point is this: the smoke of Satan which has infiltrated the Church over the last century has mingled with the filth of the world to the degree that even the most beautiful aspects of Her mission has the potential to be corrupted in the minds of the faithful. Perhaps this is just me, some psychological perversion that I would be wise to keep to myself. For the more innocent among us, it may scandalize. For that, I will apologize in advance and perhaps even warn you not to read further. 

The thing people don't realize about the sins of the flesh beyond the obvious is that it perverts our vision of what is true, what is beautiful, and what is real even subconsciously. This is why it's hard to stomach what people like Joseph Sciambra try to convey in graphic detail about gayness--that beyond the Will & Grace persona, homosexuality is an ugly, painful, unnatural, and messy affair. It is also why, when I was evangelizing with him at the Pride festival in San Francisco a few years back, there was an overt religious ethos among the half-naked men gyrating on floats while wearing angel wings next to drag queens dressed as nuns (the so-called "Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence"). Satan loves to take what is holy and beautiful and make it ugly and profane. 

Because of the sexual abuse within the Church, and the atrocities commited by clergy in terms of pederasty and pedophilia, there has been a kind of spiritual and psychic-searing, the way one's eyelids may be fused shut if they get too close to an nine hundred degree oven. In those who have suffered such abuse at the hands of clergy, there is only one word that can qualify it: spiritual murder. It is the death of the soul, because it is a kind of death when one is raped or abused, but at the hands of clergy, it is not only a death but a deformation. How can anyone who has suffered like this be expected to show up for Mass next Sunday and sit through a homily by a man of the cloth without becoming physically ill (which is what Joseph has described experiencing).

This excerpt from Nikos Kazantzakis' Zorba the Greek has stayed with me after reading it decades ago, and may help illustrate this picture of deformation:

"I recalled one dawn when I had chanced upon a butterfly’s cocoon in a pine tree at the very moment when the husk was breaking and the inner soul was preparing to emerge. I kept waiting and waiting; it was slow and I was in a hurry. Leaning over it, I began to warm it with my breath. I kept warming it impatiently until the miracle commenced to unfold before my eyes at an unnatural speed. The husk opened completely; the butterfly came out. But never shall I forget my horror: its wings remained curled inward, not unfolded. The whole of its minuscule body shook as it struggled to spread the wings outward. But it could not. As for me, I struggled to aid it with my breath. In vain. What it needed was to ripen and unfold patiently in sunlight. Now it was too late. My breath had forced the butterfly to emerge ahead of time, crumpled and premature. It came out undeveloped, shook desperately, and soon died in my palm.

This butterfly’s fluffy corpse is, I believe, the greatest weight I carry on my conscience. What I understood deeply on that day was this: to hasten eternal rules is a mortal sin. One’s duty is confidently to follow nature’s everlasting rhythm."

The sin here is not actually in forcing something to "emerge ahead of time," but that it should never have been forced at all. When innocence is stolen, it can never be brought back to life. It is eternally crippled, and can only be healed by the divine hand who created it in the first place. I don't think the weight of such sin can be overstated. It is why our Lord uses the imagery of a millstone. Millstones are giant. Were it to be tied around one's neck on their way to the bottom of the sea, it wouldn't just be a swift trip down. It would snap your neck like a twig in the first second due to the weight. And that quick death would be a merciful fate when compared to the judgement being rendered after death.

If the priesthood is the image of Christ as servant, it is to be holy. When it is not holy, not true to its calling, it perverts the image of Christ in the minds of the innocent. Such a weight of responsibility should make every man shudder, but especially God's chosen--his priests. The good ones recognize this, and in prayer and fasting, do their best to live out their calling in integrity. But like I said, Satan loves to make what is beautiful and holy, ugly and profane. 

Which is why when I witness the humble beauty of the laying on of hands during an ordination, I want to see what is true, what is humbling, what is beautiful and full of grace. But there is also the fallen part of me, all too familiar with our fallen world and the perversity of the flesh, that experiences a flash of what the abuse within the Church has wrought.

Because that very act of the ancient rite of laying on of hands in consecration has been abused and perverted in the laying on of hands of young men and young women, of children by way of the most heinous act of sodomy, which cries to Heaven for vengence.

You don't have to be a father of young children as I am to be repulsed by even the thought of such abuse, whether it occurs in the sacristy, the confessional, or some sordid bath or beach house. And if I were a more innocent person--one who had never swam in the rank waters of pornographic websites and voluntarily viewed things I can never unsee--this kind of flash imagry might not come to mind. I take ownership of that sin, and write about it now not because of how uncommon or rare it is, but of how pervasive and commonplace, how pernicious and virulent. Were I a more innocent person, I may not be so uncomfortable when I see a young priest kneeling before a bishop as the elder lays his hands atop his head at waist level. Were I more ignorant of the sordid realities of what happens in some seminaries, in some chanceries, in some diocesan retreat houses, the thought might never cross my mind.

But I read. I read about the McCarricks--one among many who have taken the image of Christ the High Priest and desecrated it by their lurid acts of sacrilege. And maybe it's better I don't read, keep my head in the sand like an ostrich. So that when I see a laying on of hands in an ordination, I don't "go there," if even for a moment, in my imagination. Can I say there's no grounds for such imaginations? These wolves in sheeps clothing have not only made the unthinkable a reality, but they even deny that they have commited the worst sacrilege--spiritual murder--compounded by their seeming lack of repentence or compunction. They shift blame, or deflect to protect assets. When in reality, they are perverts no parent of good conscience would leave their children with for even a second. 

I think it goes without saying that I am blessed to know many good priests, men of honor and integrity that would hold as abhorrent such stains upon the Church just as I do. And many of them know too that as priests, they have a target on their back--not by the culture, or the media, but by Satan himself.  They realize that if they are not fortified in prayer and fasting, continually living lives of virtue and accountability, they too may find themselves compromised if not careful. The spiritual war being waged against priests by the agents of evil is a reality. Even good men fall, when they never thought they would. It is no joke. Listen to what Our Lady (of Good Success) warns:

"The devil will work to persecute the ministers of the Lord in every way, working with baneful cunning to destroy the spirit of their vocation and corrupting many. Those who will thus scandalize the Christian flock will bring upon all priests the hatred of bad Christians and the enemies of the One, Holy, Roman Catholic, and Apostolic Church. This apparent triumph of Satan will cause enormous suffering to the good pastors of the Church…and to the Supreme Pastor and Vicar of Christ on earth who, a prisoner in the Vatican, will shed secret and bitter tears in the presence of God Our Lord, asking for light, sanctity, and perfection for all the clergy of the world, to whom he is King and Father.”

“Unhappy times will come wherein those who should fearlessly defend the rights of the Church will instead, blinded despite the light, give their hand to the Church’s enemies and do their bidding. But when [evil] seems triumphant and when authority abuses its power, committing all manner of injustice and oppressing the weak, their ruin shall be near. They will fall and crash to the ground.

“In those times the atmosphere will be saturated with the spirit of impurity which, like a filthy sea, will engulf the streets and public places with incredible license.… Innocence will scarcely be found in children."

As a married man, every act of intimacy with my wife demands chastity of mind, body, and heart. To the extent I am running through fantasies in my mind with strangers, playing things out I have viewed online in the past, I am in sin and sinning against my own flesh--that is, my wife, whom I have vowed to be true and faithful to til death. As a married man, I am called to complete and total chastity. This conversion of heart and mind is hard, but it is not impossible. The Lord can heal our memories. He can keep us present in the marital act. We can cooperate with grace by the exercise of the will with regards to chastity. 

For the priest, he must overcome not only his own sins, but must surpass the sins and failings of his predecessors. As the Lord says, "your righteousness must exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees" (Mt 5:20). “The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat. So you must be careful to do everything they tell you. But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach" (Mt 23:2-3). "Woe to the world because of scandals. For it must needs be that scandals come: but nevertheless woe to that man by whom the scandal cometh" (Mt 18:7). 

What does a good father say when his child is in danger. Don't you lay a hand on him! What does a good Father do when the Lord wishes to multiply his spiritual progeny? He lays hands on him in the rite. What does a spiritual and physical abuser, when he is a man of the cloth, do to corrupt a youth, an innocent. He does just that--lays hands on him. How confusing it must be, how much torment must that innocent endure, to try to reconcile these violations by consecrated hands to keep his spirit in tact! Truly, it is almost beyond one's strength, were it not for the potential for divine healing by the Man whose integrity was never in question--Christ himself--who can make all things new, heal the brokenhearted, and restore dignity to those who have been robbed of it. 

Shame on this perverse generation. Shame on the men of God who have been corrupted by Satan and plundered the innocent. I pray they receive their due in God's just Judgement. 

But shame on us men, too, who perpetuate this seemingly unending roll of digital film through secret indulgence, through hidden sin. There is no victimless crime, no untouched region of the mind and body when it comes to unchastity. We wonder why not only the world, but the Church is in the state it is in. The smoke of Satan has entered. The only antidote is complete and total chastity, and the development of an absolute abhorrence of sin, as St. Paul says, "let there not be even a HINT of sexual immorality among you" (Eph 5:3). 

Heal our minds, Lord, and restore our innocence, so that we do not give what is holy to the dogs. Restore your priesthood, so that we see what is beautiful and holy for what it is, with innocence of heart. Restore our hearts and minds, rip up the soiled carpet of our hidden transgressions, so that we might repent of our misdeeds and perversity rather than burying them and buidling churches upon graveyard of inequity.  Let our righteousness exceed those of the scribes and Pharisees, and may our penance atone for their  sordid abominations, for the sake of our children, and our priests to come.

Purgatory And Christian Charity

 

A friend recommended a film to me, Purgaotry (2021) by a Polish Catholic director, which my wife and I plan to watch this evening. I will let you know how it is in the next few days. 

For Catholics, we believe the state of Purgaotry is a savage grace our Lord extends to us for our purification after death. The souls who go to Purgatory are saved, but experience the temporary (but very real) pains of Hell, for as Scripture says, "Nothing impure will ever enter it, nor will anyone who does what is shameful or deceitful, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb's book of life" (Rev 21:27). God's justice is just that--just. He gives us every opportunity and grace to repent in this life, and through our hardness of heart and apathy, we often choose the alternative--sin. 

But even for those who die in a state of imperfection with the stains of venial sin, they will be purified in the most painful way--by the flames of Hell. The only difference is that it is not forever, and how long we remain in purgatory after death depends on how much work or burning away needs to be done on our souls to bring us to perfection. Make no mistake--Purgatory is a grace. The Lord could send us straight to Hell, which is what we deserve. 

Of course, Protestants don't believe in Purgatory, this "third state," because they don't believe in differentiation between mortal and venial sin, and erroneously deny tradition as "man-made." The saints who go straight to Heaven are those who die in a state of grace and have done the requisite penance in this life to atone for their sins (again, something Protestants take issue with based on Martin Luther's erroneous theology). But Catholics do. We recognize the Church Militant (those fighting the good fight here on earth), the Church Triumphant (the saints in Heaven), and the Church Suffering (those in Purgatory). 

Here on earth, we can do the spiritual works of mercy by praying for the souls in Purgatory. One of the best ways for this is to obtain a plenary indulgence for the dead at every opportunity.

 

The following is an excellent explanation of what one must do to gain indulgences. It is taken from The Gift of an Indulgence by the Apostolic Penitentiary and based on the Enchiridion Indulgentiarum, Fourth Edition, July 1999 (for more information cf. Manual of Indulgences, 2006, USCCB).

1. This is how an indulgence is defined in the Code of Canon Law (can. 992) and in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (n. 1471): "An indulgence is a remission before God of the temporal punishment due to sins whose guilt has already been forgiven, which the faithful Christian who is duly disposed gains under certain prescribed conditions through the action of the Church which, as the minister of redemption, dispenses and applies with authority the treasury of the satisfactions of Christ and the saints".

2. In general, the gaining of indulgences requires certain prescribed conditions (below, nn. 3, 4), and the performance of certain prescribed works.

3. To gain indulgences, whether plenary or partial, it is necessary that the faithful be in the state of grace at least at the time the indulgenced work is completed.

4. A plenary indulgence can be gained only once a day. In order to obtain it, the faithful must, in addition to being in the state of grace:

— have the interior disposition of complete detachment from sin, even venial sin;

— have sacramentally confessed their sins;

— receive the Holy Eucharist (it is certainly better to receive Jesus while participating in Holy Mass, but for the indulgence only Holy Communion is required);

— pray for the intentions of the Supreme Pontiff.

5. It is appropriate, but not necessary, that the sacramental Confession and especially Holy Communion and the prayer for the Pope's intentions take place on the same day that the indulgenced work is performed; but it is sufficient that these sacred rites and prayers be carried out within several days (about

20) before or after the indulgenced act. Prayer for the Pope's intentions is left to the choice of the faithful, but an "Our Father" and a "Hail Mary" are suggested. One sacramental Confession suffices for several plenary indulgences, but a separate Holy Communion and a separate prayer for the Holy Father's intentions are required for each plenary indulgence.

6. For the sake of those legitimately impeded, confessors can commute both the work prescribed and the conditions required (except, obviously, detachment from even venial sin).

7. Indulgences can always be applied either to oneself or to the souls of the deceased, but they cannot be applied to other persons living on earth. [The Gift of the Indulgence, Apostolic Penitentiary, 29 January, 2000, www.vatican.va].

The complete detachment from sin necessary to gain a plenary indulgence and mentioned in n. 4 is expressed in different words by the act of contrition below which says, “I detest all my sins…” This should be taken to mean all venial as well as mortal sin. This detachment from sin is not a feeling but simply an act of the will. 

There are various ordinary ways to obtain plenary indulgences for the dead. I try to engage in these spiritual works every opportunity I have, if not every day, because of my own debt to the Lord, but also as a work of spiritual charity. They are not hard (believe me, when compared to the pain of Purgatory), and are within reach of every Catholic:

Other works that may gain a plenary indulgence every day are a half hour of reading or listening to the Scripture, a half hour of adoration of Jesus in the Holy Eucharist whether in the tabernacle or exposed, or making the Stations of the Cross in an approved manner. Each of these works must include all the other conditions mentioned in n. 4 in the quotation above. One may fulfill the half hour of Scripture outside of a church and alone. 

Sometimes I will listen to Scritpure being read for a half hour while driving. Sometimes it will be a half hour visit to the Lord in Adoration, or a communal rosary before Mass in church. I only know a handful of people close to me who have died, so instead of "earmarking" these indulgences, I just offer them to Mary to dispense to a soul as she sees fit. 

I have committed so many sins in this life, that I am still working out my salvation with fear and trembling while I still have breath. But I also try to not let any opportunity to exercise charity go wasted, whether corporal or spiritual. You can too. Can you imagine the indebtedness of a forgotten soul, with no one to pray for them, being released from Purgatory because of your prayers here on earth on their behalf as an advocate? I have to believe there is merit there. 

Yes, yes, we do not "buy" our way into Heaven through good works. We are saved by grace and grace alone. But the authority given to Peter to loose and bind (again, another scriptural mandate spurned by Protestants) allows the Church and Her Holy Pontiff the authority to do just that--loose and bind. As the Master says, "Don't I have the right to do as I wish with my own money? Or are you jealous because I am generous?'" (Mt 20:15). Demons recognize rightful authority when they see it, and they know when one does not possess such authority given by Christ to his priests (especially in exorcisms). And they will do anything they can to keep us from praying, including praying for the dead to loose them from the torment they are experiencing by Satan's hand. 

You can't fool God. He knows everything you ever did, every slander and idle word, every foul thing done in the dark. Yes, you deserve Hell. It is only God's grace--and your co-operation with that grace by the will--that keeps you from going there. Charity and good works (remember--faith without works is dead! Ja 2:26) goes beyond feeding the hungry and giving drink to the thirsty, which we must do. It includes the spiritual works of mercy, including praying for the living and the dead.  We will be judged on our charity in this life. Don't let the opportunity to live it out pass you by.

“Settle matters quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court. Do it while you are still together on the way, or your adversary may hand you over to the judge, and the judge may hand you over to the officer, and you may be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will not get out until you have paid the last penny." (Mt 25:25-26)

Courage Is A Gift Of The Holy Spirit

In our dining room hangs a printed photograph, Aid From The Padre by Héctor Rondón Lovera. You can see it for yourself, here:

Navy chaplain Father Luis Manuel Padilla was giving last rites to soldiers in Venezuala during a military uprising in 1962. I love the photograph on a lot of levels, but in large part because it captures the kind of terror of war on the priest's face as bullets fly all around him. At the same time, though, he is there in the middle of it all, defying his very human fear, holding up the soldier. 

We often think we are brave when we are not, and end up having courage when we feel the least like it. It reminds me of the parable of the two sons in Matthew 21:

“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’

“‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.

“Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.

“Which of the two did what his father wanted?”

“The first,” they answered." (Mt 21:28-31)

Fortitude, or courage, is a gift of the Holy Spirit. It allows us to face those humanely impossible situations that faith sometimes demands, when we really have nothing but fear and dread in our hearts. Gifts are freely given, not merited, but we can ask for them, as our Lord says, "ask and it shall be given to you" (Mt 7:7). Fortitude buoys our spirits to do the work of faith when our body and human will fail us. When we are scared out of our mind and frozen in our tracks, but move forward anyway by this gift of God's grace, this gift of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit will give you the words to say at the moment when you need them (Lk 12:12). The Lord tells us not to pre-rehearse them. 

Even the most humanely courageous of us will lose heart in the spiritual war without this gift. Our Confirmation strengthens us to fight, to take courage, to give witness. Like the Padre giving aid to the dying soldier in times of war, we may find ourselves humanely terrified, saying "I will not go!" Yet there we are in the midst of it all, doing the work of God, proverbial bullets chewing up the concrete all around us. Give glory and thanks to God for the gifts of the Spirit. We would be completely ineffectual without them!

(And Happy Independence Day, to all my fellow American readers.) 

How Do You Talk Someone Off The Ledge?

 

Though I have thought about staffing a suicide hotline as a volunteer, I don't think I could do it. I wouldn't know how to answer that question were it posed to me on the other end of the telephone line, "Why shouldn't I kill myself, right here, right now?" I'd probably end up saying something like, "I don't know...from what you've told me you have every good reason to. It doesn't really make sense to go on living. I mean, you shouldn't, but I can't tell you why you shouldn't." And that wouldn't be good.

Suicide is the "out" when you feel like there's no way out. When everywhere you turn, you hit a wall. It's an out we shouldn't allow ourselves, sure. You shouldn't get the abortion. Have the baby. You shouldn't throw in the towel with your marriage. Stay married. You shouldn't end your life. Just...I don't know. Just don't. I'd be so unconvincing.  

But for the person in it, what is real? Are they seeing through all the bs of unfettered optimism: "People care about you!" Yeah, prove it. "Your life is worth living!" Why? Are they seeing life as it really is with the blinders off? Or is it skewed, darkened, subject to temptation?

Maybe in a pinch, I would just let someone speak. Listen to them. Sometimes people just need someone to really hear them. We're always getting sold to, manipulated, exploited by advertisers, tugged by manufacturers for our attention, talked down to, talked at...but never really heard. Maybe someone on the ledge just...wants someone to listen. Again, I don't know. I'm afraid if someone wanted to kill themselves I'd probably say something to the effect of--"it's true. People really aren't there for you the way you may need them to be. It gets worse before it gets better. I don't know how you're ever gonna pay off that debt. Life really does just suck sometimes." People who are suicidal often have an acute bs meter, when you are blowing smoke up their ass. Then again, I've never been trained in this kind of counseling. I'm just speculating. 

The thing that sucks for people who know the system, who find themselves feeling hopeless, is you are even more trapped when that hopelessness veers towards suicidal ideation. Because you can't say that, of course! Because then it's a whole mess. No one wants to take responsibility for that. Better safe than sorry ( *dials 911). Then the cops show up, social services. What a mess. So, just better not to say anything. But that's hard too! What a heavy burden, what a condundrum--damned if you do, damned if you don't! 

People are so lonely. I mean, I do see faith as an innoculant of sorts. If anything just to put a fence up, give a hard "no" when you have no other reason not to pull a trigger or tie a slipknot. Sorry, not an option. You gotta suffer. I'm glad I had that. So many people don't. But faith doesn't cure loneliness. It doesn't put a rose tint on life all the time. It helps you make sense of things just enough to give hope which keeps us alive. In it's truest form, it helps us grow, love, thrive, work miracles, raise the dead. But yeah, it can be a real grind, and you have to go on faith that it's worth going on when things get bad, I mean real bad, like no way out bad. 

But yeah, I wouldn't know what to say to someone on the bridge. They're there for a reason, and it may be a valid one...though they shouldn't be there, and there may be a more valid reason for climbing down. Maybe just listen, and don't feed them trite bs. I don't know. Maybe the devil is whispering in their ear to take the step. But maybe they've been stripped of the blinders, too, and are seeing their reality and the reality around them for what it really is--hopelessless burdensome, and very, very lonely.

Do Men Need Other Men?

Every now and then I will hear a story of an old lady who lives alone who passes away. Sometimes it is days or weeks before the super gets wind of it or anyone notices, and when they open the apartment, it's a dreadful smell of weeks-old death. I hate hearing stories like this, and yet I think it's more common than we think. 

I'll confess to feeling a bit of resentment sometimes when my mind gets to speculating. I feel like I'm always checking in with people, but people rarely check in with me. Aside from my family, if I passed away in my room, how long before anyone would notice?

 One of my personal Achilles' Heel is being a relational person. Whereas most Catholic men are content to just be with their families and go to work, I feel I benefit from outside relationships. This often makes me feel like a defective archetype, a "less-than" man, and a shameful weakness. It's not normal to be like this. It's kind of womanly.

There was a helpful article I came across in Catholic Exchange on this topic. I'll quote a bit of it, as the author and I seem to be on the same frustrated page:

“Do men, Catholic men, need the support of other Catholic men?”

A few years ago, I asked this question of my friend, and fellow parishioner, Jack. “Of course they do,” he replied. “I couldn’t get my job done at work without the support of the men in my department. And I’d go crazy from all the stress I’m under if I didn’t go out every Sunday with my buddies from St. Mary’s and play golf. You know, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull guy.’”

“I see your point, Jack,” I responded. “But that’s not what I mean. Do Catholic men need to share their lives with other men on a personal level? Do men need to be part of a group in which they can build close relationships by sharing their personal and common struggles, pray for one another, support one another, and hold one another accountable to live an authentic Catholic Christian life of integrity?”

“Well, now you’re talking about a whole new ball game,” Jack replied. “What you’re describing goes against the whole grain of who we are as men. By nature, men are created to be individualistic, strong, independent, self-reliant, self-sufficient, and guarded. We keep our distance from other men. We have to. Remember, men have always been the protectors of their family. Why, the highest compliment a man can receive is to be called a ‘self-made man.’”

“I agree with you, Jack, that men have certain God-given characteristics so they can fulfill their roles as protectors and providers of their family. But let me ask you a couple of questions: Have there been times in your life when you felt helpless or lacked the power or wisdom to change things? I’m talking about destructive behavior in one of your kids, grave disagreements with your wife, or a splintered relationship with a family member. Have you ever felt powerless to fight certain temptations or sinful habits?”

At this point Jack got very quiet. Then he said, “How about the playoffs so far. I don’t think the Yankees or Red Sox are going to make it. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Jack is not alone in believing that when it comes to our personal lives, men are not called to share them with other men. Yet, if we are honest with ourselves, we all know how difficult it is for men and their families to thrive in today’s culture. The ever-increasing demands on men’s time and energies and the collapse of traditional values and support structures underscore this challenge. Yet, I do not believe that God intended for Catholic men to live out their faith on their own.

Times have indeed changed. We’re working harder, our schedules are tight, and what little time we have is often used for television, sports, or activities that help us unwind. This has led to men having even more superficial relationships with other men. In spite of this, I do not think most Catholic men even consider that they need to be part of a group that prays together, or to have committed brothers in Christ who could offer prayer and sound advice to help them through difficult circumstances."

I will confess to feeling frustration with my local men's group, but it's not their fault--I find we connect well over "things"--events, shooting guns, worship events, bible study, social things, etc. But rarely do any of us get "real" enough to share our struggles with one another. We struggle alone. Part of me understands this, and part of my frustration bubbles up in saying, "well, what's the point of this, then?" 

Years ago there was a guy from our old parish, a few years younger then me with a large family who had some struggles with the common sins for men, as well as scruples. He was a blue collar guy, but sensitive enough to reach out and share a degree of vulnerability. I was doing my best to give him support and some guidance, sharing resources, etc, but eventually like a rubber band the relationship snapped back into the "I only need my family and not other men" mode. And I never heard from him again. 

I think all this goes back to that issue of expecting more of people than they may be willing to give. Just because I find I need support and relationships with other people, doesn't mean other men do. Part of me gets in this "well, screw this" mode and retreats, trying to be more like them--self-contained, not reaching out when struggling, keeping to oneself, etc--but it's just not how I'm wired. So I end up getting resentful--both that I'm not more like the other guys, and part that they're not more like me (and that I'm able to relate to someone on the same level). 

Augustine writes beautifully on the need for friendship, and that Christian friendship is the highest ideal. The love between two men is a beautiful thing, but many men are uncomfortable with it because it feels gay and too vulnerable. But Augustine had this with Alypius (as he recounts in Confesssions), and that love was not superficial or surface-y. But today, this is a rare thing indeed, and I have not found it.

So, the question remains--do men really need other men? Their wives might say, "yes, totally." And maybe a man might even think deep down inside he could benefit from it. But I rarely find a man willing to say, "I need a brother in Christ to help me be accountable, help carry my cross, push me, etc". We have these group things like Exodus 90, etc. where there's this warrior/knight/soldier archetype which is kind of generic and works for a lot of guys, but I find I just don't operate that way. I have a lot of guys I know--but not "one good friend" who I feel I can confide in, or if I can, that he would feel the same way. Like the U2 song goes, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for."