An opening

Interesting developments at my house around religion in the last couple of days.

My oldest daughter (7, soon to be 8, but precocious in many ways) professes to be "not sure" what she believes about God and religion, "like Mommy." She has recently become friends with a Jewish boy in her class. He has been given the opportunity to share some of the traditions of Judaism (e.g. festival days, food regulations, fasts) with their second-grade class now and then, and my daughter has always eaten it up.

Last night when my wife was driving her home from the restaurant where they grabbed dinner, my daughter told her that she "wanted to be Jewish." Of course we thought it was mostly because she wanted participate in the "different" holidays and fasts and what have you. But later, when her mother was putting her to bed, she expressed an interest in learning how to pray. (This is not really something we do at my house as a family.) So my wife called me upstairs and we all shared a short prayer. Yeah, it was pretty shallow. And yeah, it was awkwardly syncretic as my wife was simultaneously trying to explain her own informal system of meditation or internal "prayer". But it was an opening. And this morning she tried to help her little sister (four years old) say a prayer, too; and she reiterated her interest in Judaism, which I take as a step in the right direction.

Now here's the thing: I'm a cradle-Protestant Christianoid who's frankly unsure how far to trust the Church, or any church (though I try to confess Christ as God before my children when the subject of religion comes up.) But I do pray privately, and of late I have asked Jesus, Mary, and Saints Monica and Thomas More to work on my family, to draw us all to Christ and the Sacraments. It could be coincidence. It feels like an experience of answered prayer, or the beginning of an answer, and I thank God and all who have prayed for us.

I have an opening. Or, please God, He has an opening. This morning I pointed my daughter to the Old Testament as an obvious place to start learning about Judaism, but the only editions of the Bible I have to hand her are decidedly geared toward adults. So if anybody's reading this, please help me out with your suggestions! Ideally I need a Bible translation/edition (or maybe a collection of Bible stories?) that an academically-gifted 8-year-old will find grown-up enough to feel authentic-- she thinks she's too old for picture books, and anyway I want it to have some gravitas for her-- but it needs to be accessible enough that it doesn't require excessive fortitude to read through. Maps would be nice. Any ideas?

And if anybody who reads this blog has been praying for my family, please please PLEASE keep it up. I need all the help I can get.

A lonely expatriate

Here I was, once again thrown back into the world, alone in the turmoil and futility of it, and robbed of my close and immediate and visible association with any group of those who had banded themselves together to form a small, secret colony of the Kingdom of Heaven in this earth of exile.

No, it was all too evident: I needed this support, this nearness of those who really loved Christ so much that they seemed to see Him. I needed to be with people whose every action told me something of the country that was my home: just as expatriates in every alien land keep together, if only to remind themselves, by their very faces and clothes and gait and accents and expressions, of the land they come from.

 - Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain, p. 383

Oh yes. I hear you, Thomas.

You don't tug on Superman's cape, and you don't debate abortion with Brandon Vogt

Please-- don't get your blood on my nice white gei.

I recently got my butt rhetorically kicked by Brandon Vogt. (This is a little like having your butt physically kicked by Chuck Norris: you really didn't expect it to come out any different, and you're kind of honored that he took the time.) I commented on his post that asked non-Catholic readers to fill in the blank: "I'm not Catholic because ______." I cited the Catholic stances on abortion and homosexuality as major issues for me, and Brandon proceeded to pull my "arguments" to pieces on logical grounds, pretty much leaving me sputtering, "But... but... it just feels so mean." Which, as pretty much anyone could point out, does not constitute an argument.

Well, I'm not ready with a rebuttal or anything. I still can't argue with the rationality and lucidity of Catholic social teaching. But I can examine my reasons for not embracing it at a "gut" level.

Indeed, I think I did touch on this in Brandon's combox, but then I subsequently buried the lead:

Culture war aside, I'm generally concerned that the would-be "humility" of subjecting my own thinking to the teaching of the Church is actually an abdication of responsibility. What if the Church is wrong?...

Finally-- and this is not so much an objection as a circumstance-- my wife remains an agnostic. And as I learned during the time I tried to conform my thinking to Reformed/"biblical" theology, when I adopt a worldview that would call hers "wrong", all hell breaks loose. She feels hurt, even while I can't really carry it off because I don't really feel any conviction that she *is* wrong, or at any rate that her wrongness is culpable. She's a nice, very smart lady, trying to figure it all out while not hurting anybody and raising her daughters to be nice, smart ladies like herself (and I pray God she does just that!). She doesn't wish to be married to a theologically-conservative Christian-- certainly not one who wants to be "open to life"!-- so I find that my (probably uninformed, probably broken) conscience tells me I must try to avoid being such a person.

Let me be clear what (I hope) I am not saying: I am not saying "It's my wife's fault I'm not Catholic." Indeed, you might say it's her virtues that hold me back. The world is replete with stories of conversion where Spouse A accepts Christ (in one form or another), while Spouse B goes on living a dissolute, God-dishonoring life of booze and selfishness until Spouse A wins Spouse B over with their Awesome, Loving Christian Witness.

This will not be my story. My wife is in no way dissolute. She is not given to trinkets and baubles and material doo-dads. She tries to be as charitable as decent standards of prudence allow. Injustice affects her like poison ivy: she can't sit still for it. I feel confident that she would go to the wall for her family.

She's also wicked smart. (Why the hell is she married to YOU, then? Touche. She must have a blind spot.) I don't want to give too many details since I'm trying to keep this blog anonymous, but suffice it to say she has scaled any number of academic mountains, if not with ease, then with tireless perseverance. She reads the news; she knows the score; she is quite capable of independent, critical thought.

And she flatly rejects Christianity. Forget Catholic social teaching (the specifics of which make her cringe): this archaic notion of God becoming human, and giving His life for a sinful human race, she simply will not give the time of day to. Oh, she'll allow that in its milder manifestations a belief like this might be psychologically helpful. It's not so bad to believe in God and imagine that He loves you. But the minute some organization begins to speak for God, she loses all patience.

Is she a wretched, lost sinner? I suppose. I can't help feeling that I should be so wretched and lost myself. I love the woman, but I also admire her. I end up wondering-- not what's wrong with her that she should be so hostile to a theologically-conservative worldview-- but rather what's wrong with me that I should be flirting with these ideas in the face of her obvious virtue and goodness, and in opposition to (what should I call it?) the founding principles of our marriage.

I pray the rosary on my evening commute most nights. Last night I stopped by a church that's on my route and sat and prayed the last decade sitting in my car outside the perpetual adoration chapel. This is how it is for me: I drive by churches like some kind of creepy love-lorn teenager driving past the house of a girl who's rejected him. I feel like I'm doing something vaguely dirty, vaguely adulterous in my devotions, in my desire to approach God through Catholic belief and practice.

And I'm not sure how to clean that up.

The point of it all

I've been playing with Gimp, trying to make myself some seasonal "wallpaper" for my computer...

I'm not entirely happy with it, mostly because I find it visually distracting... But I thought I'd throw it out here anyway.

This might be my favorite passage of scripture; it puts literally everything in perspective. Simply put, Christ was the turning point. In a sense we are now in the denouement of human, and perhaps cosmological, history. The war is won. I am unsure of my place in the great mopping-up operation, but I know the change is happening before my eyes, and I rejoice. (My apologies if this sentiment is better oriented toward Christmas than Advent; I find it impossible not to look toward the thing anticipated, I guess. My kids can't wait for Christmas either!)

Another effect of recognizing the Christ-centric nature of, well, the whole universe: questions about the literal or figurative nature of the Genesis creation account begin to seem rather niggling. You look at the Hubble Deep Field photo and can almost hear God saying, "Did I say six days? Oh. Actually I meant FOURTEEN BILLION YEARS. Because as you might have heard I HAVE THAT KIND OF TIME."

Who knows how long the aforementioned mopping-up operation will take? Perhaps long enough to make friends of all our former enemies? Long enough for all the stars to burn out and something unforeseen and unimaginable to blaze up in their place?

The working plan

...for the time being:

1. Pray like a Catholic.
2. Read Scripture like a Protestant.
3. Attempt to worship the Trinity at a Unitarian church.

What could possibly go wrong?

7QT 2012-10-12

I'm back with (what else?) 7 quick takes, since I am incapable of an original thought. Fortunately Jen Fulwiler has provided a structure and theme that even a hack like me can glom on to, so away we go:

1. First, I have to unsay some of my previous recommendation of Bob Schneider, at least as a live act. I'd still say he's a brilliant songwriter, and his skill as a performer was entirely enviable, but I was... well, disturbed by some of his humor. I don't mind profanity and bodily functions-- I've always believed that there are two kinds of jokes, clean ones and funny ones-- but at one point he sort of stepped over the line (in my opinion) by applying very crass humor to the person of Jesus.
   
   Tried to explain to the Agnostic Spouse why this troubled me (or rather, why I felt a little bad for laughing). She told me I'm taking myself too seriously. Which of course I frequently do, so maybe she was right about this one, too. But I'm sorry to say that I don't think I'll listen to Bob Schneider for a long time without feeling a bit of lingering disappointment.
2. HT to Betty Duffy for reminding me about the "Year of Faith", or as I like to think of it, "The Year of Marginally Less Doubt... Maybe?" And also: If you happen to read this, Mrs. Duffy, I'd like to wish you a belated Happy Birthday and thank you for your thoughtful writing.
3. As the existence of this blog attests, I've long since waded into the Tiber, and asked myself what, exactly, I and the church of my upbringing were "Protesting" against. I find that I like Catholic blogs, Catholic music (though the Protestants have J.S. Bach-- ouch), Catholic churches, and I can be persuaded on an intellectual level to believe much of (what I know of) Catholic doctrine... But a few concerns still remain. Like saints. And talking to them as a part of one's prayers.
   
   I "get" the Rosary-- really I do-- and how the repeated Hail Marys function as an opportunity and an inducement to turn one's eyes toward the One at the center of the Christian faith. But it still creeps me out a little to go to a mass and turn with the rest of the congregation toward a statue(!) of the Virgin and "hail" it three times.
   
   Not to suggest that "it creeps me out" constitutes an apologetic argument. But there it is.
4. On the foregoing topic I sometimes think to myself "a billion professing Christians can't be wrong." It's funny how you'll use number-of-adherents in trying to evaluate a truth claim. There are way more Christians in full communion with the Pope than there are Christians who identify as, say, "Reformed", but you'll always hear the argument advanced that any church that's grown large (be it the Catholic Church or the neighborhood evangelical megachurch) has compromised in some way with "the world". Apparently there's no safety in numbers, whether they're big ones or little ones.
5. It would be a lot easier for my family life if I could convince myself that I was neither evangelical, nor Catholic, but a liberal Protestant. Consequently I frequent Rachel Held Evans' blog. As a father of daughters, I can only be sympathetic with her program to give women a voice in the church, and she often has some worthwhile observations on scripture and culture. But yesterday her husband Dan posted and, honestly, reading it made me feel like a total loser as a husband. I love when he writes (with emphasis!), "I have Rachel's back and I'm doing everything in my power to make sure her voice is heard." It's so neat to see him supporting her this way. But I read this as a veteran of all these conversations/arguments/decade-long struggle I've been having with my wife about religion, in which she always ends up telling me, "I don't feel like you're on my side," because I'm arguing (as gently as I know how to-- God help me!) for Catholic social teaching or some Protestant variant thereof.
   
   And she's right. I'm not on her side. I want to be. I really actually wish I still believed in her side.
6. Anyway, this has already become more like "7 Quick Gripes", so moving on to something more positive: I get to spend tonight at the U.S. Space and Rocket Center along with my second-grade daughter and the kids from her school's math club for a, um, special math event. If this doesn't sound like a blast to you, well, you're just not a turbo-nerd like myself, are you? I-- I mean, she-- will get to ride the simulators, see an Imax movie and spend the night in the same "habitats" used for Space Camp. Space Camp! My geeky little cup runneth over.
7. I'll use this last "quick take" to say an advance thanks to Jen Fulwiler for her "7QT Participation Appreciation Day" giveaway. I am never one to turn down free books, and I'll confess that it was the lure of a shot at that $50 gift card that provided the impetus for me to finally write another post. (I know, I know: what a great service Mrs. Fulwiler has done to the blogosphere by encouraging me to once again raise my voice.) Seriously: thanks Jen, and good luck to all you other 7QTers.

There is no bottom

This in a nutshell is why Protestantism, at least in its "visible church" aspect, bothers me.
XKCD: "Crazy Straws"

7 Quick Takes

Well, enough of this wimpity-whining. It's time for "7 Quick Takes", courtesy of the lovely and talented Jen Fulwiler.

- 1 -

Since my diagnosis of Ménière's disease earlier this week, I've been scrambling to figure out how to eat as normally as possible while maintaining a low sodium intake. Enter Healthy Dining Finder. Thanks to this nifty site, I now know a number of ways I can take the family out to eat, while not having to either (a) watch them enviously while I sip club soda, or (b) order "Caesar salad, dressing on the side" for every meal. Cracker Barrel here I come!

- 2 -

I have discovered the awesome Pray-As-You-Go podcast, evidently produced by a group of British Jesuits. I'm a big fan of choral music, so I love the way they interweave a scripture reading with a changing variety of meditative vocal pieces. They put it out a week or two at a pop, so you don't have to update your feed every day. I don't get to listen to it daily, but I get a lot out of it when I do.

- 3 -

Like a lot of folks in the blogosphere, I saw the "How To Suck At Your Religion" cartoon from The Oatmeal thanks to friends on Facebook. To be honest it kind of rolled off my back-- nothing really new here-- but evidently others (notably Joe Heschmeyer at Shameless Popery, and Marc Barnes, the "Bad Catholic") took umbrage and provided some responses that made me laugh and nod along.

In the end, atheist tirades against religion always make me shrug: If there's no God, who cares what fake-ass religion I subscribe to, right?

It really is hard for people to give up the idea of an objective moral standard, whatever they might say about societal norms and evolutionary psychology and what have you. I guess that's what the theologians call "common grace"-- doesn't matter what you believe, God is too merciful to let you fully experience the consequences of those beliefs. That's why you can count on good liberals to speak loudly against (some forms of) oppression. Speaking of which...

- 4 -

The local Unitarian Universalist congregation is hosting a talk by the Reverend Mark Kiyimba of the Unitarian Universalist Association of Uganda. If Uganda isn't on your radar, you should probably be aware that they've been trying on and off to legislate a death penalty (!) for homosexual activity. From the blurb for the talk:

Rev. Kiyimba has also been an outspoken critic of Uganda’s anti-LGBT legislation which would mandate harsh penalties such as life imprisonment or death just for being homosexual in Uganda. People could also be arrested and jailed for not turning in friends or family members known to be homosexual. Members of the LGBT community in Uganda, as well as their supporters, have been persecuted, beaten, and even killed and the violence appears to be increasing. Rev. Kiyimba himself has received threats and had to leave Uganda last year due to concerns for his safety, while concerns continue for the well-being of the students of his school and residents of his children’s home. In Uganda, he has been questioned on multiple occasions by police who accuse him of using the church and school to recruit homosexuals. While the anti-LGBT bill has moved on and off Uganda Parliament’s agenda without a vote on multiple occasions, it could still be debated and voted on by Parliament in the future.

You can read more about Rev. Kiyimba's efforts and school at the UUAU website linked above. I doubt that there's anyone from Huntsville reading this, but if you are, you can hear Rev. Kiyimba speak at the local UU church at 10:45 am this Sunday... And from what I know of mass schedules around the city, if you're Catholic you won't have to miss Sunday mass to do it.

- 5 -

I had wanted to include a hopeful blurb at this point about how the Catholic Church, at least, could be counted on to stand up for human rights in Uganda even when other nominally-Christian groups had lost their minds, but it appears instead that the local bishop has made common cause with the Protestant groups that support this horrible legislation.

I sure hope someone will comment with a better source, or tell me I'm misunderstanding this.

- 6 -

On a happier note, my lovely wife and I will be traveling to Birmingham next Thursday to see Bob Schneider in concert. Listen to a Bob Schneider album sometime if you haven't. He has this knack for giving an entire album a certain coherent "feel", while still letting each song be its own creation. He "spans genres effortlessly," to use a stock music-review phrase. And he writes "clever, thought-provoking lyrics," to use another. I can't wait to see the show, although I have a little trepidation about how it will sound given my degraded hearing...

- 7 -

Finally, for the geeks (after all, I am the Rocket City Recusant): Have you tried programming in Haskell? I'm playing with it, and it's blowing my mind. It helps that there's a hilarious, informative introductory book about the language freely available online. Someday maybe there will be other aspiring Haskellers among the discriminating readership of this my very odd blog, and if so perhaps we can compare notes.

Over and out!

"that I may become as holy as I should"

That others become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should:

Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

- Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val (HT to Heather King)

As holy as I should. Aye, there's the rub. I want the sacraments, and prayer, and the companionship of people who don't talk as if Christianity is either the social obligation imposed on them by their parents or wives, or else the troubling, retrograde remnant of the slow death of ignorance and superstition. I want to join hands with men who are trying to be saints. I want to know what they know, see what they see. I want to feel, or at least allow myself to live as if I feel, the presence of Jesus. I want to be better. I want to say grace before I eat. I want my children to hear me thank God for them.

I want. I want. And it's easy to find voices that tell me that this is what God wants, too.

But because my wife's voice isn't among them, there is a cost... to what I want.

If it was just a matter of me paying it-- setting myself to patiently endure insult, silent treatments, the cold shoulder, constant badgering about how can I be so wrong-- I believe I could take it. But there's more cost to be borne, and others would have to bear it.

Because that's not the person my wife wants to be. She doesn't want to be argumentative and shrewish. It's not really her nature. But it is her nature to stand up for the downtrodden. And when I become one of the treaders-down-- of gays who want legitimization of their lifestyle, of women who want free access to birth control or abortion-- well, woe be unto me. Or if not woe-- and we're almost past that stage, we've had this argument so many times-- then indifference. Coldness. The slow death of love. She learns not to care what the Neanderthal on the other side of the bed thinks; I learn not to tell her.

So she pays that price: You thought your were making a life with someone who was on your side? Who basically agreed with your worldview? Sorry, that's not going to work out exactly-- I've changed. I've found Jesus and he is my priority.


And then maybe we live together as strangers for the sake of the children. Or maybe we part ways. Either way, do the children benefit? If our home turns into a cold and bitter place because sometime in middle age I finally decided to stand up for my "principles"-- is that really better for them than if I had somehow convinced myself that I really didn't believe all that old dogma, and gave their mother (and thus them) as joyful a temporal life as I possibly could? Do my kids have to be the children of divorce, or something worse, for me to get what I want "spiritually"? Surely that would be the worst sort of Pharisaism?

Really-- all I have to do is continue to convincingly state that the liberal side of the culture war is the right side, and that Christians should be polite and shut up about their religion.

It ought to be easy. I could just be humble. I could be content to silently watch and pray for the Church and for my family. I could wait and see.

I think I have to. In spite of what I want.

Man-years Disease

For about a month now I've been having trouble hearing through my left ear. There's a slight sensation of pressure and a constant ringing (really more a roaring)-- like the worst tinnitus ever. More strangely, sounds that get through seem to produce a "shadow" frequency in my ear. This contributes to the roaring if I'm in a place with a lot of background noise, but I notice it most if I'm listening to a simple melody where each tone is clearly and individually audible; then it's almost like a harmony line being piped into my left ear. Very odd.

My GP tried to treat it with nose sprays, in the hope that my Eustachian tubes would open up and let out whatever fluid was messing with my ears-- but no luck. So yesterday I visited an ENT who put a name to my troubles: Ménière's disease. (When I first heard the term I had been waiting to see the doctor for more than an hour, so I immediately wondered how many man-years it was going to cost me to get it treated.)

It seems to bear some relationship to migraine headaches (which I'm sorry to say I also suffer from). And like migraines, the treatment seems to consist of "I dunno, try this?" measures, such as (in my case) eliminating caffeine and drastically reducing sodium in one's diet. Fortunately my migraines will reliably succumb to Imitrex, so thus far I've gotten by without having to give up coffee. But apparently my luck has run out in that respect. I'm less than a day into the coffee-less rest of my life and already suffering withdrawal.

And then there's the low-sodium diet. Egad, I had no idea how much sodium I was actually eating before I started trying to quantify it to get under a daily limit. My diet is going to have to change radically, which is probably a good thing on many levels. Unfortunately it makes cooking for the family (including a couple of moderately picky little girls) more of a challenge. My wonderful wife got all over it as soon as I told her about my new dietary restrictions, though, and quickly started identifying foods and recipes that would keep the kids alive while hopefully allowing my hearing to clear.

Want to hear something strange? Some clearly sick part of me was hoping that this hearing loss would turn out to represent a serious enough health issue that I could be expected to be frightened by it. Because that would give me license. I pictured myself saying to my wife, "Honey I'm sorry but I'm losing my hearing. Before I do I want to hear a priest of the Catholic Church absolve me of my sins. I want to hear my children baptized in the name of the Trinity. We're going to join the Catholic Church ASAP!"-- of course leaving unspoken the conclusion-- because now, finally, you can see that this really is important to me and I'm not just bringing this stuff up because I'm a doctrinaire jerk, or because I want to argue with  you. Moreover, if you don't go along with it politely, you're being mean to a seriously ill person.

Of course, thank God, it's not working out like that. It's just a limited, non-permanent hearing loss in one ear-- nothing anyone but an absolute baby could get worked up over. And my wife? She is running around today dragging the kids to Target, to the grocery store, reading labels for sodium content, turning the whole family's diet upside down and sacrificing still more of her time to take care of me.

Maybe I am a doctrinaire jerk. My wife makes liberal humanism look a lot more beautiful than I make Christianity look.

7 Quick Takes

[EDIT: I wrote and posted this before I heard about the tragedy in Colorado. It seems very small now to gripe about not being able to see the movie of my choice this weekend (#5). My heart and my prayers go out the the victims and their families, and my apologies to anyone who was hurt by my obliviousness.]

My first "7 Quick Takes"! I've always thought this was a brilliant and fun idea, and I'm glad to have a way to be a part of it now.

--- 1 ---

They're opening a mosque in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. Actually they've been trying to get it done for a couple of years now, but have faced a lot of opposition from the locals. Someone will tell me I'm a "useful idiot" or that I hate America or something, but I'm glad to see this particular obstruction of religious freedom being removed. It would be nice if the Federal government took the religious freedom of Catholic organizations as seriously.

--- 2 ---

Do you like gospel R&B? Me neither, until I heard this album by Marvin Sapp. The vocals are masterful and  the musicianship will blow you away. As a disclaimer, I should say that I don't know much about Sapp; what I've read about him on the internet makes me think his church is sort a quasi-Pentecostal personality cult, and I'm sure the theology leaves something to be desired in the way of orthodoxy. The fact that iTunes promoted his album pretty heavily doesn't give me much confidence in that regard either. Still, I don't think there's anything in the lyrics here to offend, and much to inspire.

--- 3 ---

I just finished Ann Patchett's State of Wonder, which I read at my wife's recommendation. What an amazingly rich book. In just a little over 300 pages she manages to create a place and an atmosphere you feel you can reach out and touch, and fully develop at least two or three memorable characters. Hopefully it won't be too much of spoiler if I admire the way it explores (among other ethical questions) the problem of solving third-world health problems when those of the first world are most attractive to the stockholders in pharmaceutical companies. Very entertaining, and good food for thought.

--- 4 ---

Speaking of Ann Patchett, she's half-owner of an independent bookstore in the Green Hills neighborhood of Nashville called Parnassus Books. We got to pop in there last time we were up that way, and it was a blast to shop in a bookstore that... Well, that wasn't Barnes & Noble. Don't get me wrong, I love the heck out of B&N versus the Waldenbooks and Books-A-Million and remainders stores we had here before, but alternatives are becoming few and far between. So anyway, I recommend both her writing and her bookstore.

--- 5 ---

Unlike everybody else on the Internet, the movie I will be watching this weekend is called The Dark Knight Rises, While I Sink Back Into My La-Z-Boy And Wait For Netflix. Y'all have fun and let me know how it was. And don't worry about spoilers because I have small kids whom the movie would terrify and a wife who (though otherwise wonderful) despises sci-fi/comics-based movies, so anything you tell me will be forgotten long before I actually get around to watching this movie on the tiny little screen of my computer. Not that I'm bitter.

--- 6 ---

I'm using my lunch hour to type this blog entry instead of exercise. My priorities might be a bit confused.

--- 7 ---

Here is a total newbie question, thrown out in the hope that somebody will eventually read this entry...

All over the Catholic blogosphere I hear about how people pray the Liturgy of the Hours, or the Angelus, or St. Patrick's Breastplate, or whatever. For my own part, I've taken up the Rosary daily since there are plenty of good instructions for this available online, but as a cradle Protestant these other traditions are alien to me. The Episcopalians have the Book of Common Prayer that lays out (among other prayers and service outlines) their idea of the Daily Office; is there some equivalent for the Roman Catholic Church? A collection of public prayers that everybody's referring to? I've seen references to a publication called Magnificat; is that what everybody refers to for the Liturgy of the Hours? Is there some other resource that the average layman can get his hands on inexpensively?

Thanks to Jen Fulwiler for sharing her space for this.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

"I shall serve as praise for his justice"

And finally, Margaret, I know this well: that without my fault he will not let me be lost. I shall, therefore, with good hope commit myself wholly to him. And if he permits me to perish for my faults, then I shall serve as praise for his justice. But in good faith, Meg, I trust that his tender pity shall keep my poor soul safe and make me commend his mercy.

And, therefore, my own good daughter, do not let you mind be troubled over anything that shall happen to me in this world. Nothing can come but what God wills. And I am very sure that whatever that be, however bad it may seem, it shall indeed be the best.

- from a letter written by Saint Thomas More from prison to his daughter Margaret (I found it here)

I'm not sure about this whole "intercession of saints" thing. As C. S. Lewis somewhere observed, it's hard to understand why one would bother asking for the saints' help when we can approach God Himself in prayer through Jesus. Veneration, on the other hand, I do understand; the lives of the saints are often so instructive, so inspiring, and so convicting.

St. Thomas More has caught my attention lately. He is listed by SQPN as having "difficult marriages" under his patronage, I assume because he was widowed and then subsequently married to a woman who didn't quite "get" him. Of course he is better known as a martyr for the Catholic faith. While I can only admire his commitment, from my modern standpoint I'm appalled by his actions in executing "heretics" as Chancellor.

Would I have done the same thing in his time, in his position? I would like to think not. But I know very well that I would not have had his unbelievable courage in defying Henry VIII and maintaining his beliefs against the threat of his own execution. I wish I could find in myself some of that kind of certainty. So long as it didn't make me certain enough to kill someone who disagreed with me.

At any rate, this excerpt from his prison letter to his daughter struck me hard. I have often been comforted by the thought that, though I am far from being righteous in God's sight, though I seem to continue helplessly in my rebellion and keep myself back from him in so many ways, I will one day glorify him either through his mercy in Christ and my consequent repentance, or through my just damnation. Like More, I hope for the former, of course; but I will try to hold on to the part of myself that wants and loves Justice even if I end up on the wrong side of it.

Well, here's my stab at requesting a saint's intercession:

St. Thomas More, please intercede for me, that I might not harshly judge those who (now and historically) seek justice and truth to the best of their ability; and for me and my wife, that we might be led together to repentance and a right understanding of, and union with, Christ and the Church.

Jen Doesn't *Look* Like Bull Connor...

I don't think I can rave enough about Jen Fulwiler's engaing, down-to-earth, self-deprecating style of writing and (apparently) being. Her clarity on respect-for-life issues has been very eye-opening for me. She continues the trend with this post, which has evidently made quite a splash with others as well (251 comments in the meta last time I looked).

I, too, have gay friends (though not as close as I'd like them to be). Since I'm only "orthodox" in theory (or perhaps I should say "in the closet"), it hasn't become an issue for me yet. On the other hand, when I air these ideas to my wife it becomes clear that she, at least, thinks I'm on the path to becoming a retrograde homophobe and misogynist; on the side of Jim Crow in our generation's great civil rights struggle, as it were.

And thus far I must agree with her: It's hard for me to see how two (or more!) consenting adults making a contract to remain monogamous (or however-many-gamous) and share their property is (legally speaking) any of my business anyway, whatever name they call it by. If there are legal or governmental benefits attending such a contract, I'll take the hit as a taxpayer. Or if (as I keep reading in more conservative circles) it's not really about rights and privileges, all the more reason to let gay people take on the responsibilities and burdens of a civil partnership (equal in the eyes of the law to a heterosexual marriage) if they so desire.

I'm not saying homosexual acts aren't correctly forbidden by Scripture and Church teaching and even, if you like, natural law; but I am saying that I'd rather live in a society where the government errs on the side of permissiveness. Everybody's lifestyle is bizarre to somebody, after all.

Moreover, it seems to me that allowing people the scope to sin without interference also allows them to encounter for themselves the hollowness of life without the light of Christ. And when they do so, they will not be able to say it was because that mean ol' Church wouldn't let them be who they wanted to be.

The Oracle of Balaam

Lately I've been pondering the story of the prophet Balaam quite a lot. It resonates with me because I feel like I know Balaam's position here: called on by the enemies of Israel to voice opposition and lay on a curse, all he can do is bless. One gets the impression that he doesn't really have a dog in the upcoming fight; he goes his way and apparently never becomes part of either side in the war for Moab. Still, he knows the hand of God when he sees it and can't help but say so. It's not politic, not lucrative, not comforting; reading the story you feel like Balaam would happily lie to Balak if he could figure out how to make his mouth form the words; but the Power behind Israel will not be denied.

Did Balaam look at the armies of Israel merely with awe, or did he also feel some envy? Did he wish he were blessed with the same responsibilities, the same hope?

Introduction

Well, it ain't pretty, but it's here.

This blog is mostly intended as a way to interact with real blogs, such as those listed in yonder sidebar. I don't expect to have much original content here; but as much as I like the sight of my own words in print, who knows.

To give a little background and point-of-view: I was born, raised, and have lived most of my life in Huntsville, Alabama, the "Rocket City". Since I'm interested in talking religion here, I should probably let it be known that I was raised Baptist, and then fell away into something between agnosticism and liberal Protestantism. Arguably I'm still there, but in recent years (and coincident with the birth of my first child), I have been drawn to more-- what?-- authoritarian worldviews such as Calvinism and, lately, Catholicism.

"Drawn" though I might be, I don't do a lot about it, other than have (and lose) occasional arguments with my (thoroughly agnostic, thoroughly liberal) wife, and then shut up and go back to reading theology books for a while. I don't like to be a pain the neck. So for the time being I'm sitting on the sidelines, and maybe from now on. But I want to learn more about the Church, and I pray for more light, and I hope that maybe by interacting (however anonymously) with the larger Catholic world I can figure out how to move forward.

Thanks, and here goes.