For Lessons on Lying from “The Catechism Made Easy” (with a Little Help from the Rolling Stones)

The subject of “lying for Jesus,” as Mark Shea puts it, has been rolling through the Catholic blog-o-sphere in light of the tactics used by the Pro-Life group Live Action.

I even posted a little piece comparing many of the commentators to characters from J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. I dubbed Mark Shea as “Faramir” because that character said, “I would not snare even an orc with a falsehood.” Mark states his case based on what the Catechism says about lying.

Below, from the handy, dandy YIMCatholic Bookshelf, is a selection I found in a book titled The Catechism Made Easy: Being a Familiar Explanation of the Catechism of Christian Doctrine. Written by Fr. Henry Gibson, formerly a prison and reform school chaplain, the title page includes these simple words from St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians,

“Except you utter by the tongue plain speech, how shall it be known what is said? For you shall be speaking into the air.” —1 Cor. xiv. 9.

Ouch! See? I told you being a Christian is hard! Published in 1882, we’ve forgotten a lot of this great stuff written by our Catholic forefathers. This is from the section in Fr. Henry’s book about the Eighth Commandment, with practical examples included at no additional charge.

Oh no, not again!

The Eighth Commandment. What it forbids. False Testimony, Rash Judgment, Lies, Calumny, Detraction, and Talebearing—Obligation of Restitution. What the Eighth Commandment commands.

Q. What is the Eighth Commandment?

 

A. The Eighth Commandment is “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”

The next sin which we speak of—that of telling lies— is one against which I am particularly anxious to warn you, both because it is, unhappily, very common among children, and because it is the root of many other vices. To tell a lie, is to say what we believe to be untrue. If we believe that we are speaking the truth, and happen to be mistaken, it is not a lie; on the other hand, if we say what we believe to be false, and it turns out to be true, it is really a lie in the sight of God.

All lies are sinful, because they are all directly opposed to Divine Truth, which is one of the most admirable Perfections of the Almighty. Moreover, they are an abuse of that most excellent gift of speech, which God has given us to enable us to make our thoughts known to our fellow-men; whereas the liar uses his speech to conceal his thoughts and deceive his neighbor. But though all lies are sinful, they are not all equally sinful; some are much more grievous than others.

The worst lie of all is that which is told in confession by him who conceals a sin, for such a lie is a sacrilegious lie, a lie told to God himself, and is a profanation of a holy Sacrament. The lie next in guilt is that which is told to injure our neighbor’s character; for example, when a person gives false testimony in a court of justice, or when he spreads abroad calumnies against his neighbor, accusing him of crimes which he has never committed. Such lies are called malicious lies, because they are told through malice on purpose to injure others, and they are very grievous sins.

But there are other lies which are much less in guilt, namely, lies of excuse and lies of jest. These lies are sometimes called by foolish people white lies, as if that which is black in its very nature could ever become white. It is true that they may not cause our neighbor any injury, but still they are displeasing to God and hurtful to the soul. They displease God, because he is the very Truth, and as the Scripture says, “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord” (Prov. xii. 22). They are hurtful to the soul, not only on account of the wound they inflict upon it, but also because a habit of lying is thereby formed, which is the foundation of many vices.

If a child is a habitual liar, depend upon it that, if not cured of this vice in time, he will grow up both a hypocrite and a thief, for truth is the twin sister of candor and honesty. “Show me a liar,” says the proverb, “and I will show you a thief.” Moreover, to tell a lie to excuse yourself is an act of cowardice, and shows a certain weakness of character and principle, which may well cause us to fear that so feeble and timid a soul will soon fall a prey to its evil passions and the temptations of the devil. Be always, then, my dear children, most exact in speaking the truth, and pray to God to give you a great love of this excellent virtue which is so pleasing to him. Remember that if you love and always speak the truth, you are in a special manner the children of God, who is the Divine Truth.

On the contrary, if you have a habit of lying, you are the children of the devil, who is, as our Blessed Lord says, a liar and the father of lies (John viii, 44). You must not tell the smallest lie even to save the whole world, for it is better that the world should be destroyed than that God should be offended. Much less, then, should you tell a lie to save yourself from a scolding or a beating, which are soon over, and moreover, are intended for your good. If you have done wrong, be sorry for it and own it, then you are soon forgiven both by God and your parents; whereas if you try to hide it by a lie, you are guilty of a fresh sin, and one often much greater than the fault you first committed.

Listen to these two lines of one of our own poets on this subject; they are well worth remembering—

“Dare to be true, nothing can need a lie;
The sin that needs it most grows two thereby.” -George Herbert

Yes, dare to be true. Be brave enough to speak the truth, for it is an act of true courage. Your parents or teachers may punish you, but they will respect and trust you, the Saints and Angels will look down on you with approval, God will hear and will reward you. Nothing can need a lie, because nothing can excuse it. Moreover the sin you have committed, and that seems to need it most, grows two thereby, since you offend God doubly, and thus make it far more difficult to obtain his pardon.

And depend upon it, sooner or later the liar will be found out in his lies, for, as the proverb says, “truth will out.” In conclusion, what is more contemptible than the character of a liar, whose word is never taken, whose denials are never believed, whose promises are never trusted? On the contrary, what is more noble, what more amiable, than the character of a child who is always candid, truthful, and sincere? Such a one, wherever he goes, carries with him the esteem, the confidence, the respect of every one.

The Bishop and the Soldiers

It is related in Church History that upon one occasion the emperor Maximinian, a cruel persecutor of the faithful, despatched a troop of soldiers to apprehend and cast into prison Antony, the venerable Bishop of Nicomedia. It happened that, without knowing it, they came to the house of the holy Bishop, and being hungry, knocked at the door and begged for some refreshment. He received them with great kindness, invited them to sit down at table, and set before them such food as he had at his disposal.

When the meal was ended, the soldiers entered upon the subject of their mission, and requested him to inform them where they could meet with the Bishop Antony. “He is here before you,” replied the Saint. The soldiers, full of gratitude for his generous hospitality, declared that they would never lay hands upon him, but would report to the emperor that they had not been able to find him.

“God forbid,” replied the Saint, “that I should save my life by becoming a party to a lie. I would rather die a thousand times than that you should offend Almighty God.” So saying, he gave himself into their hands, and was conducted to prison.—Catechisme de Perseverance.

Death Rather Than A Lie

During the great French Kevolution, at the end of last century, the Catholic churches were pillaged throughout the country, and closed for public worship. The priests also were proscribed, and forced to conceal themselves in private houses, or even to seek shelter in the thickets of the forests or in the caves and fastnesses of the mountains. It happened about this time that a young girl, named Magdalen Larralde, of the village of Sare, on the borders of Spain, fearing to have recourse to her own parish priest in his place of concealment, was wont to cross the mountains whenever she desired to approach the Sacraments, in order to seek spiritual assistance from the Capuchin Fathers at Vera, on the Spanish side of the Pyrennees.

One day, on returning from the convent, she fell in with an outpost of the French army, which was then stationed along the frontier, in consequence of the war which raged between the two countries. The soldiers immediately seized her as a spy, and dragged her before the general, who questioned her as to the object of her presence in Spain. Magdalen answered simply and without a moment’s hesitation that she had been to confession.

The officer, touched by her youth and innocent bearing, and anxious, if possible, to save her, quickly replied, “Unfortunate woman, do not say that, for it will be your sentence of death. Say, rather, that the advance of the French troops frightened you, and drove you to seek shelter on Spanish ground.”

“But then I should say what would not be true,” answered the girl, “and I would rather die a thousand times than offend God by telling a lie.” In vain did the general urge and solicit her to yield; her firmness never gave way, and she was conducted before the tribunal at St. Jean de Luz. Before her judges, Magdalen again, with unflinching courage, refused to save her life by a lie. She was, therefore, condemned to the guillotine, and, as she walked to the place of execution, her step never faltered, and she ceased not to invoke the assistance of God, chanting aloud the Salve Regina in honor of the Queen of Heaven. —The Month.

The Imposter Struck Dead

St. James, Bishop of Nisibis, was one day travelling through the country, when he was accosted by a beggar who appeared to be in deep distress. On approaching the Saint he implored him with earnest supplications to bestow upon him an alms to enable him to bury his companion, who, as he said, had just expired by the roadside. The holy Bishop readily gave him what he asked, and went on his way praying earnestly for the soul of the deceased.

The beggar, laughing at the thought of having succeeded so easily in imposing upon the Saint, meanwhile ran back to his companion, whom he had left lying upon the ground at a little distance, pretending to be dead. On coming to the spot he called out to him to get up, as the trick had been successful, but he received no answer. He approached nearer, and took his companion by the hand in order to arouse him, but what was his horror at finding that he was really dead!

Immediately with loud cries and lamentation he ran after the Saint, and, throwing himself on his knees before him, acknowledged the deceit which they had practised, and implored his pardon and intercession. The servant of God having first reproved him for his sin, betook himself to prayer, and the unhappy man, who had provoked God to deprive him of life, was restored at the prayers of the Saint and became a sincere penitent.
—Butler’s Saints’ Lives

If those three examples weren’t enough on the sin of lying, how about one from a secular source? Here are the “Glimmer Twins” and the gang from their 1978 album singing about the problem of prevarication,

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For All the Sacramentals, The Way of the Cross

The Lenten season is just around the corner, and one of the devotions that I look forward to is that of the Stations of the Cross. Also known as the Way of the Cross, I was amazed to see Fr. Sullivan count this devotion as a sacramental. I had no idea, did you?

Last year both Allison and I wrote posts on the Stations of the Cross. Below, Fr. John fleshes out the history of this sacramental devotion for us.

The Way of the Cross

The Way of the Cross is a devotion which is performed by meditating before fourteen Stations of the Cross successively, on the Passion of our Blessed Lord.

This devotion is also known as the Stations of the Cross, from the Stations or crosses before which it is made, and which are usually affixed to the interior walls of Catholic churches. These Stations are not the pictures, or reliefs, or groups of statuary representing the sufferings of our Savior. The Stations are the crosses, which must be of wood, and which are usually placed over the pictures. The indulgences are attached to the crosses, and the pictures are not essential, but are merely an aid to devotion.

The Stations must be lawfully erected; that is, they must be blessed by the bishop of the diocese or by a priest specially delegated by him. Otherwise, no indulgences can be gained.

The History of the Way of the Cross.

In the early days of the Church many pious Christians made pilgrimages to the Holy Land and visited the places sanctified by our Lord’s sufferings, and thereby gained many indulgences. But when Jerusalem came into the possession of the fanatical Moslems, this could no longer be done with safety; and in order that the same devotion might be performed without danger or difficulty, pictures or statuary were placed in European churches, representing the journey to Calvary.

It is said that the first to do this was the Blessed Alvarez, a Dominican, at Cordova, in Spain. The practice was adopted about 1350 by the Franciscan Minorites, and was soon approved and indulgenced by the Holy See. The indulgences were granted at first only to Franciscans and those affiliated to them—that is, belonging to societies united to the Franciscan Order; but in 1726 Benedict XIII extended these indulgences to all the faithful. Formerly only the Franciscan Fathers could erect Stations in churches, but this power is now given to all bishops, and they may delegate it to their priests.

The Stations are fourteen in number. In past centuries, in different places, the number varied from eleven to sixteen; but the Church finally ruled that they must be not more nor less than fourteen. They may begin on either side of the church; if the figure of our Saviour is facing toward the right, the series goes to the right; if to the left, the order is reversed. Thus in some churches they begin on the Gospel side, in others on the Epistle side. They are sometimes erected in the open air.

Some of the scenes shown in the pictures are described in the Gospels; others are not. There is no mention in the Scriptures of our Saviour’s falls under the cross, nor of His meeting with His Blessed Mother, nor of the story of Veronica. These are handed down by tradition.

The Indulgences of the Way of the Cross.

We know that no other pious practice is so highly indulgenced; that those who perform this devotion properly gain the same indulgences which they would gain by visiting the actual Way of the Cross in Jerusalem; but the precise amount or number of these indulgences is not known. They may be applied to the souls in Purgatory.

To perform this devotion and to gain the indulgences, we are not bound to read a meditation or prayer at each Station; we are not bound to recite any prayers. It is customary to recite an Our Father, Hail Mary, etc., but these are not necessary. We must go around from the first Station to the fourteenth, stopping at each for a short time and meditating on the Passion of our Lord in general or on the particular event which the Station represents. If we cannot go around, on account of the crowded condition of the church, or if the Stations are being performed publicly, it is sufficient to turn towards each Station.

Those who cannot go to the church are sometimes permitted to gain the same spiritual benefits by using an indulgenced crucifix, which is to be held in the hands while the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory be to the Father are said twenty times—fourteen for the Stations and six for the intention of the Pope. Pictures of the Stations printed in prayer-books or on a chart cannot be used for making the “Way of the Cross.

To Remember to be Childlike (An Artful Reminder)

This morning my wife shared a video with me from a Japanese “pop” group that calls itself World Order. I posted the “New York City” version on my Facebook page, along with another version that was shot in Tokyo, Japan, which is where the group hails from.

My blogging friend Deacon Greg Kandra, whom I sent the video and back story to, posted it on his blog The Deacon’s Bench. You may have seen it and enjoyed it there.

I, of course, can’t speak a lick of Japanese beyond “yes” and “hello,” so I have no idea what the lyrics, that the singer/leader Genki Sudo is warbling here, mean. I only know that this tune is stuck in my head, and I like it.

I also like the visual performance— alot! To me, see, this is performance art of a very high caliber. Though Sudo’s group, called World Order, is labeled as being a part of “popular culture,” I can’t help but look at their art through the lens of Catholicism, and from a contrarian perspective as a result. You see, this is how I look at everything now.

The Lenten season, you know, is right around the corner, and another blogging friend, Elizabeth Scalia, manager of the Catholic Portal at the website Patheos, announced that to help us prepare for Lent, a new columnist has come on board there. It is Fr. Dwight Longenecker, who will be posting twice weekly under the heading Slubgrip Instructs. The posts (I believe) will be based on Fr. Dwight’s book entitled The Gargoyle Code, which is inspired by author C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters, but modernized and specifically adapted for Catholics.

Blogger Eric Sammons reviewed Fr. D’s book over at his blog last year. The first installment at Patheos is up and it is about “the purpose of popular culture.” I suggest you go read it just like I would recommend that you read The Art of War, by Sun Tzu. But I also suggest that you approach popular culture from what military strategist B.H. Liddell Hart called “the indirect approach.” I call it viewing popular culture from an oblique perspective. Here is what I mean.

View and enjoy the video below by Sudo’s group. Shot in Tokyo with five dancers, notice how most of the adults ignore Sudo & Company. The adults are very focused on “adult stuff” almost to the point that they don’t even see Sudo & the gang. While you are watching, notice too how the children notice and interact altogether differently with the group than the adults do. Have a look,

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Uh-huh, the city is loud! Did you see the difference in the way the children and adults interacted with the artists? Here is another song by World Order, again shot in Tokyo, but with seven performers. Note the children vs. adult behaviors again,

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Isn’t that great? Did you see the children on the playground? What joy, what fun, what joie de vivre! I especially enjoyed when the performers all lined up behind Sudo, and all you could see were the hands, or heads of the others. And then an adult came in and threw the light switch on. Exit stage right!

So what are you getting at Frank? Oh nothing, really, except while watching the children in these videos, obliquely you see, these words popped into my head over and over again,

Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18:3-4)

Do you see now what I see? Now you can go and read Fr. Dwight’s postwith the mindset of the guerilla cultural warrior that you are called to be.

For Faith in Action: Live Action and the Lord of the Rings

Feast of St. Alvarez of Corova

I know. This is a weird title for a post. What does the Lord of the Rings trilogy have to do with Live Action? Maybe nothing, or maybe everything. Bear with me for a moment and I’ll try to explain.

The other day, I wrote a little post that I titled Because All of the Big Questions Have Been Answered. There, I stated simply that, “what is left to do, and one which takes a lifetime to perfect, is the implementation of the answers.”

Actually, it would take an eternity of lifetimes for us to try and perfect the implementation of Christian values, and we simply don’t have that luxury. Because though our souls are immortal, for this go around for us at least, our earthly bodies are finite.

But guess what? God knows all this.

Because the Holy Spirit speaks to us often of our condition as “earthen vessels,” for we are often compared to “clay pots.”  So in our finite bodily existence here on earth, in this test called life, we must act with partial and incomplete knowledge. I wrote of this condition of ours a long time ago.

Our Majesty also knows that we are in “the play” and this ain’t no dress rehearsal. And as Christians, we are not called to just theorize and contemplate. We are also called to act upon this stage called life. And our actions, though imperfect, must seek to glorify God. And they must be in accordance with His will. We believe we will be judged accordingly, do we not? How do we know then that we are acting in compliance to these two demands?

In my mind, we can’t do either on our own, which is why we need the Church as the grounding, or foundation of our actions. And the Church also must be the referee, if you will,  of the drama of life. But even acting on our own, we do have a sense of what is “right conduct” and what is “wrong conduct.” Case in point, the whole Live Action sting on Planned Parenthood controversy that has everyone with an opinion on fire to share it.

I’m no expert on moral theology, or moral philosophy. I will leave that to others with more knowledge and experience, both within the Church, and without. And until the Church hands down a definitive opinion on this matter, where you come down on this incident depends on where you stand.

So where do I stand? I stand with the people who understand the following statement from my ancient Chinese friend,

All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near. —Sun Tzu

Wormtongue

And this is a war our government doesn’t seem to have the stomach to fight virtuously, or even at all.

Once I wrote on a friend’s Facebook page that there is Spiritual Warfare going on both within us and throughout the world. Spiritual battles that will inevitably spill out into the public square. How could they not? Only if you believe in relativism and that all ideas are equally virtuous, or equally fatuous. But the truth is, this cannot be.

Speaking of drama then, what if we lived in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle Earth and the Live Action vs. Planned Parenthood fracus played itself out among the characters there? Assume then that the role played by Planned Parenthood is that of the character named Grima, also known as Wormtongue, OK? In the movie adaptation, this character was played by actor Brad Dourif, who also played Hazel Motes in John Huston’s adaptation of Flannery O’Connor’s Wise Blood.

So much for the character supporting the agenda of the Dark Lord of Mordor. What about the good guys? Below are a few links to discussions about what to make of these events. I will share them with you in the order in which they match up with Tolkien’s characters. I think each makes valid points.  As a mere hobbit though, I am inclined to let wiser heads prevail in these debates. But I also seek information from all sides in order to view the full picture. First up is the opinion of a modern day version of Gandalf the Grey,

Peter Kreeft: Why Live Action Did Right, And Why We Should All Know That..

You promised the Jews to hide them from their murderers. To keep that promise, you have to deceive the Nazis. Physical hiding and verbal hiding are two sides of the same coin, whether you call it lying, or deception, or whatever you call it. What it is, is much more obvious than what it is to be called. It’s a good thing to do. If you don’t know that, you’re morally stupid, and moral stupidity comes in two opposite forms: relativism and legalism. Relativism sees no principles, only people; legalism sees no people, only principles.

Hadley Arkes: When Speaking Falsely is Right.

But we remind ourselves that we don’t cast moral judgments solely on the basis of the gross description of the act: “Smith takes the hose from the garage of his neighbor Jones.” Before we’d call it a “theft” we’d ask whether he had permission to take it. He might not have had permission, but he borrowed it for a moment to put out a fire and returned it. He had no permission, but we would be moved to say that his act, given the circumstances, was “justified”—i.e., just, not wrongful.

Guess who plays the character of Arwen?

Lila Rose: Statement on House Defunding of Planned Parenthood.

The case to cease funding is crystal clear. But for any Senator who remains unsure, imagine explaining to your constituents that you voted to keep sending $350 million of their tax dollars to an ‘non-profit’ that puts young girls in harm’s way and made $63 million in profits by aborting 300,000 unborn children last year. It’s time once and for all to stop financing these activities.

And of course, there is the brave and able Aragorn of Gondor.

Francis Beckwith: Live Action and Telling Falsehoods.

Two instances found in Scripture make this clear. The author of Hebrews writes, “By faith Rahab the harlot did not perish with those who were disobedient, because she had given friendly welcome to the spies.” (11:31). In James 2:25 we learn that Rahab was “justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out another way.” What did Rahab do that was so commendable that Scripture presents it as a work of faith that justified her? She intentionally told a falsehood.

And then there is Eowyn.

Elizabeth Scalia, aka “The Anchoress:”Gosnell; Baby Feet Kick the Nation.

After all, Margaret Sanger — the poster girl for pro-choice advocates in America — was all about making sure that certain races and certain classes of people were discouraged from reproducing. But you’re not supposed to know that, or at least you’re not supposed to acknowledge that. To do so would be as rude as forcing people to consider that the only way to prevent a pregnancy from advancing to new life is to “stop” it unnaturally, or to note that “stopping” is just a euphemism for “killing.” Because that’s the only way to stop new life from flourishing: by killing it.

Entering from stage right, we have Legolas.

Tim Muldoon: Imagining a Nation without Abortion.

Imagine a nation that loved all its children so passionately that it built an entire social and economic structure around protecting them, nurturing them, fostering their growth, and supporting their every stage of life. The logic of this care for children would, of course, extend to the conditions by which those children entered the world. The nation would first care about young adults and their sexual choices.

Remember what Faramir said? “I would not snare even an orc with a falsehood.”

Mark Shea: Faustian Bargains.

But these do not exhaust our options. For one can also note that, in our panic about being accused of idiotic callousness toward innocent victims we have failed to notice that the notion that lying will save the Jews from the Nazis is dubious to start with. In other words “Lie or die!” is a false dilemma. Does anybody think that if I lie, the Gestapo will say, “Oh! Okay! Sorry to bother you! Have a nice day!” and not look in the attic anyway? Clearly the *real* trick is not to lie well but to *hide your Jews well*. Then you can say, “Look for yourself”, offer the Nazi a nice cup of tea, and speed him on his way with a “Seig Heil” without rousing suspicion, looking sweaty and guilty, and having to remember what you said. In short, a little forethought about what is morally permissible can actually help you do a better job of protecting your wards than just seat-of-the-pants “Let’s lie!” gut responses. Does this cover every possible situation? I doubt it. But it tends to get overlooked in the rush to create the dilemma for the sake of defending Lying for Jesus.

As for me, I’ll just try to keep my friend on the straight and narrow I reckon. All I know is this—we are at war, and war is hell. Not everyone sees the big picture.  But somehow, by each one of the allies doing their duty,  good can overcome evil. It truly is like the great stories…

Update: Marc @BadCatholic on the virtues of Hobbits.

A Chinese “Spiritual” (A Few Words For Wednesday)

I’ve been reading John C.H. Wu’s The Interior Carmel: The Threefold Way of Love. This morning, I caught the shuttle bus from the parking lot to the bus stop right outside of my office back-door. As I was drinking my coffee during the ride, I dipped into my book bag and flipped open John’s book. Guess what I found?

Before my eyes were the words to a little ditty that John suggests “when spiritually interpreted, will perhaps give an inkling of the joy of the saints.” I think you will agree that they do. And in the spirit of “for God so loved the world,” enjoy this depiction of the rooster/world by graphic artist Kentaro Nagai.

from “an old Chinese love-song,”

Cold is the wind, chill the rain.
The cock crows kikeriki.
Now that I have seen my Love,
Peace has come to me.

The wind whistles, the rain drizzles.
The cock crows kukeriku.

From a newly discovered1500 year
old church in Israel

Now that I have seen my Love,
My sickness is healed too.

The wind and the rain darken the day.
The cock ceases not to crow.
Now that I have seen my Love,
My joy ceases not to grow.

For the Psalms and Spring, Family and Sports

It is getting ready to be a very busy time for me and my family. That’s because Spring is just around the corner, and around my house this means our children’s sports teams will begin hitting the ground running.

Not everyone gets involved in such things as sports for their kids. Not every child enjoys organized soccer, or baseball, or softball, volley ball, basketball, horse riding, or any of the other myriad possibilities to turn your child’s attention to.

So why do we even bother in our household? Joy in living is the only real reason that I can think of. That and the realization that though our children’s gifts and abilities are out of our hands, they should still be developed. Besides, everything we spend time doing matters.

It is a tight-rope and certainly there is a fine line between the healthy reasons for involving our children in sports, and the unhealthy turning of sports into an idol. On the positive side, for example, our oldest son has played organized baseball for 8 years, since he was 7 years old. As it turns out, he is pretty good at this game. Honestly, he is ten times better at it than I ever was.

How did this happen? I really have no idea. It is nothing that I expected. And let me assure you, my wife never saw this coming either. But God saw it coming, and of that fact I have no doubt. He has decided that, through our children, He will take my wife and I places that we never intended to go on our own.

And there is the riddle of our son’s gift, for example. Though endowed with excellent hand-eye coordination, and having an arm that can accurately throw thunderbolts, the most important characteristic of all isn’t even a physical one. It is that my son simply loves this game. And this love for it drives him to do things that only love can make him do.

Like get up early for practice, and study hard to keep up his grades. And endure practices that look like something that the Marine Corps would endorse. Sure, it wasn’t like that when he was in little league. That was all fun, and that is also where the seeds of this love were planted. But now that he has made the high school team, the love for the game has been tested by the fires of hard work and sweat. There is a spiritual message in all of this somewhere, I am sure.

As an aside, one of the great things about being Catholic is that we have never missed a Mass because of baseball, or any other sports games of my children either. Blessed to live in a diocese with more than one parish, Our Lord has also seen fit to provide more than one Mass said at each parish during the weekend across our area. The only excuse for missing a Mass is sloth, and thankfully, that hasn’t ever occurred.

One day, my son’s baseball career will come to an end, as all good things generally do. And on that day, my career as a baseball dad will end too. Life will go on. But until that day comes, I’ll keep supporting my children in these endeavors.

Because in the end, unless you measure things crudely in only utilitarian and materialistic terms, the benefits of participation in sports (or other extracurricular activities) far outweigh the negatives. Especially when you acknowledge that these abilities and talents being developed are gifts from God, and not of our own making.

I teach my children, and pray that they will remember, gratitude for these truths sung by the Psalmist,

I praise you, so wonderfully you made me;
wonderful are your works!
My very self you knew;
my bones were not hidden from you,
When I was being made in secret,
fashioned as in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes foresaw my actions;
in your book all are written down;
my days were shaped, before one came to be.
How precious to me are your designs, O God;
how vast the sum of them!
Were I to count, they would outnumber the sands;
to finish, I would need eternity.

And also this Song of Ascents of David, which is well suited to keep the soul of an athlete grounded in humility,

Psalm 131

LORD, my heart is not proud;
nor are my eyes haughty.
I do not busy myself with great matters,
with things too sublime for me.
Rather, I have stilled my soul,
hushed it like a weaned child.
Like a weaned child on its mother’s lap,
so is my soul within me.

Israel, hope in the LORD,
now and forever.

Amen.

From a Poem by George Santayana (A Few Words for Wednesday)

I think you will be surprised by this, because I know I was.Yesterday, I shared a little something that the atheist, and self-described “aesthetic Catholic,” George Santayana wrote. Today I’m going to do the same.

It seems Professor George really wanted to be known as a poet and he wrote a good number of poems and sonnets, which were published by the Herbert S. Stone & Company publishing house. I “discovered” his poem The Hermit of Carmel yesterday and I am amazed by it. I  added it to the YIMCatholic Bookshelf without hesitation.

I’m no poetry critic, because I don’t know poetry enough to criticize it. I only know what I like and can understand, and what I think is good. Below I’m sharing with you a taste of Professor George’s artistic ability from his poem Lucifer: A Theological Tragedy.

Published in 1899, this poem opened to mixed reviews. It was viewed favorably by Christian critics, and less favorably by secular ones.Tongue firmly in cheek,  I wonder why? I’ll give you a taste of his ability via two speeches. The first is by St. Peter to Hermes, and the second is The Risen Christ to Lucifer himself.

from Act IV,
Saint Peter’s Soliliquy to the pagan god Hermes,

It is a serpent tempts thee, noble youth.
Even while speaking truth he leads astray.
His eye is subtle, but his heart is blind,
And of God’s fruits he marks the spotted rind,
But not the kernel where their virtue lay.
All nature yields no meaning to his mind,
For understanding withers at its springs
Unless love guide it to the sense of things.
On faith is built the wisdom of mankind.
Mark how this age, that builds its truth on doubt,
Falters at heart and knows no certain hope,
But trusts to fate, with which it dare not cope,
To work its undeserved salvation out.
What truth have men ? The senses brief deceit.
What happiness ? The slavery to greed.
What art ? An echo and a paltry cheat.
What God ? A helpless consciousness of need.
Upon what food, then, doth this people feed
That it forgets of whom it borrows breath?
Knows it the secret of the budding grain,
Or can it conjure floods or summon rain?
Or grows it sick and amorous of death,
Or like its father, Satan, dull to pain?
Oh, men have waxed too covetous of gold
To lift their eyes up from their labour s gain;
And as each morning brings the sun again
And summer wears his splendours as of old,
They drive the ploughshare deeper in the mould
And say : There are no longer gods in heaven!
With smitten breast and penance would they crave
Their bread, if God less bountifully gave,
But they forget him now, when all is given.
Thus are the souls my Master died to save
Like earth-regarding beasts in stupor driven
Without the hope of heaven to the grave.

****
from Act IV, Christ to Lucifer

Unteachable! Is God not the Lord of Hosts?
The arms that against his bosom fly
His own strength drives, and in thy mutiny
He triumphs, and is mighty in thy boasts.
What need of sentinel to guard the shore
When he is master of the embosoming sea,
When his the wave, the bark, the sail, the oar,
And his the sinews of his enemy?
O Lucifer, couldst thou behold thy soul,
As it lies open to my Father’s sight,
The gathering clouds of pity fast would roll
Across thine eyes, to hide thy proper plight,
And rain on thy parched heart in showers light
Of sweet humility. Woe to the vain
And raging will that hugs its mortal pain.
Is it for thee to fathom wrong and right?
Tis God who spun the fibres of thy brain
And wove thy reason; had he placed awry
One thread, new dreams had turned
thy dreams to naught
And idle thought confounded idle thought
For ever, and none questioned destiny.
Now thine own tyrant, to thyself unkind,
Thou chafest at the limits of thy wit
Whose meek quietus were to live resigned
And serve the elder will that fashioned it
For in the bosom of the infinite
Thou hast thy life, and thy forsaken woes
Like foam on the false bosom of a wave,
Rise in vain fury, impotently rave
A moment only. Then thy proud will goes
Whither the billow sinks or the wind blows.

For All the Saints: Joseph of Leonissa

Today is the feast day of St. Joseph of Leonissa (Feb. 4, 1612). He was from a small town in Italy that, at the time, lay within the borders of the Papal States. At the age of seventeen, he became a Capuchin friar. I hadn’t planned on posting on this saintly fellow, but I found something that I believe I am supposed to share with you. I can’t explain it really, I just feel drawn to share an account that involves Joseph.

But first, a little background. He is best known for heading to Constantinople to minister to the Christian galley slaves of the Sultan there. He didn’t do that on a lark, either. He studied the Turks, and Islam, before heading on this mission.

Art credit: Getty Images

One day, he got the idea that he would preach to the Sultan himself, was captured, tortured and then miraculously released after hanging from hooks through his foot and his right hand (comfortable, and humane) over a smokey fire for three days. You can read more about that episode from the article on him at the Catholic News Service. Suffice it to say it’s a miracle he survived.

Like I said, I really wasn’t going to post anything about this particular saint. But then I found something about him on the YIMCatholic Bookshelf, you remember, my wacky hobby nowadays? And one thing led to another.

It is an episode in Joseph’s life that I found in a book entitled The Agonizing Heart, by Fr. François René Blot. I added this volume to our shelf promptly because the subtitle of the book is Salvation of the Dying, Consolation of the Afflicted. So, it sounds like a book that has a broad appeal, since all of us are dying, or consoling someone who has lost someone who has died.

This particular story comes from Section II in the book, Meditations For One Day In Each Month. The selection that concerns our saint of the day is the meditation for the month of December, on the Blessed Virgin Mary. It turns out that Joseph of Leonissa is also know for two things that stand out in my mind: he preached while holding a crucifix, and he had a strong devotion to Our Lady.

What could be more agonizing than losing your child in premature death? A horrible accident for example, or to a disease, and heaven forbid, to a homicide. That is the episode that unfolds in the account that involves our Saint of the Day below. Take a look,

from La Vie du B. P. Joseph de Leonissa
by Daniel de Paris

The talent of consoling the afflicted is one of the gratuitous graces which God gives to whom He wills for the benefit of others, but compassion towards the afflicted is the duty of every Christian, according to the words of St. Paul, ‘Weep with them that weep’ (Rom. xii. 15).

The Blessed Father Joseph had this talent to a remarkable degree. He was ever ready to weep with those who wept, and to lead them to adore the secrets of Divine Providence. On one occasion, when he was preaching the Lent at Jane (ed. a nearby town), he heard that a young man had just been killed in a quarrel, and that his mother, a widow, was inconsolable in her grief.

Father Joseph, with true compassion for her affliction, went to visit her, and to share it; but he found her in a state of frenzy, and full of thoughts of revenge. The servant of God did not begin by blaming her anger; on the contrary, he acknowledged that she had good cause for her tears.

“You weep,” said he, “your tears are reasonable, and God does not blame them. But now that you have given all that nature can expect from a mother’s heart, it is time to think of what grace claims from a Christian. You must let yourself be ruled by faith; look at Jesus on the Cross” (he showed her the crucifix), “and consider the tears of the Blessed Virgin His Mother, and her humble submission to the will of God. Will you not follow so beautiful an example? ”

“Your son has fallen a victim to the hatred of his enemies, but the Son of Mary suffered from the cruelty of His own people. The one was, like all Adam’s children, a sinner, the other was the God-Man, the Saint of Saints, and He died only to restore those who were dead in sin. In short, your son died in a personal quarrel, your Savior died for the sins of others. Yet Mary did not yield to such an excess of grief, she did not call upon Heaven to destroy those wicked deicides; she imitated the clemency of her Son, Who even on the Cross prayed for His murderers; every day she still intercedes for sinners. You have acted as an afflicted mother, but is it not now time to behave after her example, as a Christian mother, who conforms herself in all things to the will of God?”

The tears of a too human sorrow were changed into tears of holy compunction, and the poor mother seemed absorbed in the love shown by Jesus on the Cross. The holy man led her to something yet more perfect. As the Blessed Virgin loves those who have crucified her Son so much that she seeks their salvation, she also learned charity towards those who had taken the life of her child. She invited them to her house, even before the funeral, and assured them that she forgave them for the love of Jesus and His holy Mother.

****
I’ve been reading a book written by John C.H. Wu where he writes that,
Some time or other, the Holy Spirit moves you to whisper to Christ, “Lord, what shall I render to You for Your wonderful love of me? He answers you in a whisper, “Do not always say ‘me, me, me…’ Remember there is a big Me in you. Love Me, love My brothers.”

And of course, He also says,

Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

St. Joseph of Leonissa, pray for us.

Our Lady of Sorrows

Matt Maher & More (Music for Mondays)

A while back, I did a music post on Matt Maher, the Catholic Contempory Christian artist. Maher and his band are top notch, and I hope to take my kids to one of his concerts if he ever wanders our way.

Here’s why I like his stuff. As Christians, we should measure the worth of an artist by how well they get “it” right about the human condition, don’t you think? Some of us go searching for “it” in music.

Now think of this as Christians walking around holding a tuning fork in our hands. Sometimes, popular contemporary artists will sing a song that appeals to us for all the right reasons, and the tuning fork will sing too. Most often though, they miss the mark.

Not so in the case of Matt Maher. This dude, and his band, is always on the mark and the tuning fork is constantly humming. At least that has been my experience. So for this weeks set, we start up with a couple of knock-out songs from him that should have you running to the i-Tunes store pronto. Then we’ll wind our way through a few post-related songs and wind up with a violin and a piano.

Matt Maher, Love Comes Down. I’ve been listening to Matt Maher’s Alive Again album for my “commute to work” music lately. I heard this one this morning and I hit the repeat button at least three times. I can’t get the song out of my head, and you know what? I don’t want to either.

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Matt Maher, Flesh and Bone. This is the antidote to P!nk’s current hit called F****** Perfect, which is long on sentimentality, but short on truth. This was shot live at a “Theology on Tap” gig, which I’ve heard of but have never participated in. These lyrics are right on the mark. Great introductory remarks by Matt on our encounter with Jesus.

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Ok, I don’t know if the tuning fork will work with the rest of these, but I like them anyway.

Living Color, Cult of Personality. We had a post related to something similar to this just yesterday. I remember this band because it was burst onto the scene around the year I got married. These guys could get loud! One of the best unknown guitarists you’ll ever hear.

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Culture Club, Miss Me Blind. Remember Indiana Jones yelling “That belongs in a museum!”? Well, a few weeks ago, the news reported that Boy George was returning an icon to the Orthodox Christian Church on the island of Cyprus. It turns out the icon had been looted from a church there in 1974 and BG bought it from an art dealer in London, unawares. He’s returning it but seriously… who knew these guys sounded this good live? Not me. They jam!

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The Bangles, Walk Like An Egyptian. As the situation in Egypt moves towards it’s seventh day of rioting, I am remembering my time there and the songs that we played in the Marine House. By the time this one came out though, I was in Malaysia, but I still liked it. For news on what’s happening in Cairo, look abroad.

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John Cougar Mellencamp, Crumblin’ Down. I remember us playing this one a lot in the Marine House Bar in Cairo. John’s singin’ about me being uneducated and having an opinion that means “nuttin.'” That’s it! Tomorrow I’m wearing white socks with my loafers…that’ll show ’em.

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Midori, Chopin’s Nocturne in C-sharp. This little lady came to our small town this past Friday. She was the guest of our local symphony orchestra, playing a piece from Strauss. I’ll tell you this…she can make that fiddle sing! My kids said “she moves like a robot” to which I said, “she’s just jammin!” Guess what else? She still uses that little cloth for on her chin rest to this day.

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We’ll see you in February!

For Faith In Action: The March For Life (Part II)

Cold hands = warm hearts.*

Chapter 3: The Youth Mass for Life.

When the idea to come to the March for Life came over me (see embedded link above), I knew that I wanted to attend Mass before the march began. I remembered where the Wee Kirk on the Hill is, and I also remembered a few other parishes from our trip back in the summer. I went to the March for Life website and clicked on the Factsheet to see if anything was planned worship-wise.

There was a pre-march Youth Mass and Rally planned to begin at 10:00 at the Verizon Center, but I quickly found out that tickets for that event were “sold-out.” Maybe if I would have planned this trip two weeks ago, that might have been a possibility. But the idea to go on this trip was less than an hour old by the time I was looking, so the rally was a no-go. Thankfully, there were four other locations available as overflow facilities.

Three out of the four venues available were sold out too, so I clicked on the last available location, punched in a quantity of 5 and prayed that there were enough spots left for us. There were! I printed the tickets, and the trip picked up momentum from there. Being at the Youth Mass was important for 15, 11, and 9 reasons: those are the ages of my three children and I wanted them to be surrounded by other young people so they would know that this just isn’t some old fuddy-duddy Dad’s idea of something important. I wanted them to see that lot’s of kids were missing school for this important event as well, not just themselves.

And now here we all were, seated and waiting for Mass to begin in a sanctuary packed to capacity. There on the right hand side were a bunch of young men, who turned out to all be seminarians. We sat on the St. Joseph side of the sanctuary, with young men and women ahead of us, and behind us and this was mirrored over on the St. Mary side of the aisle as well. It was 1030, packed, and young people were still coming in by the bus load. The Mass started 15 minutes late so the latecomers and stragglers could make it in on time. This gave me a little time to think and to pray.

I thought to myself, It is entirely appropriate that we are sitting here in a church in Chinatown. Outside, next to the front entrance to the church, I had spied a sign written in Chinese that had Our Lady of China’s portrait on it. John C.H.Wu and Dom Lou Tseng-Tsiang must be smiling, I thought to myself. They were probably clucking their tongues at me for my worrying that we wouldn’t make it here on time. “Silly Grasshopper, oh ye of little faith.”

I remember several things from the Mass, the first of which is that we began it with the long form of the penitential rite as follows,

I confess to Almighty God, and to you my brothers and sisters that I have sinned through my own fault in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do; and I ask the Blessed Mary, ever Virgin, all the angels and saints, and you my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God.

Catholics believe that some forms of sin are graver than others, because frankly, this makes sense. Also, it says so in the Bible. But we also know that we are all sinners, and though we hate the sin, we love sinners, because Christ loved sinners too. So it is apropos that we acknowledged our sins before all present and to ask for their prayers for us as well. It always is appropriate.

Next, Our Lord, of course, was present in the Mass, as He always is. Sometimes I can slip into taking this for granted, but not today. He had eleven of His priests there as well, to concelebrate the Mass for His flock, and provide them with nourishment from Him. And at the Great Amen, all eleven of the priests chanted in unison,

Through Him, in Him, with Him, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor are yours Almighty Father, forever and ever.

And all of us in attendance chanted back, Amen.

It was a moment so beautiful that it made my eyes water. I thought to myself that even if we couldn’t have made it to the March later, being here now, for this Mass alone, was well worth the trip.

Spilling out into the streets!

The sanctuary reverberated as we prayed the Our Father together, and there was much joy as we exchanged the sign of Christ’s peace with one another. Several hundred of us united in Christian charity for the sanctity of human life. By the time the final blessing and dismissal came, Go in peace to love and serve the Lord, and our thunderous reply of, Thanks be to God! I thought how fitting to remember that in everything we do, we serve the King and His peoples.

It may have been freezing outside (it was!), but as the warmth of the Holy Spirit washed over us, it was like the little tongues of flame from Pentecost were there to follow us out into the cold and keep us warm. It was 1145. Time to take the Metro to the rally point on the Mall.

Chapter 4, the Mall and the March

Team Weathers with the CO.

After leaving the Mass, we walked back up to where we parked so we could get a few items before heading to the Chinatown Metro station. If it would have been Summertime, we could have just walked from Chinatown to the Mall. But as it was 20 some odd degrees, temperature wise, the Metro option was looking good. We knew where we were now, because during our vacation this past summer, we had eaten at a restaurant close to the Chinatown Metro station, a block away from where we stood now.

My wife remembered how to work the ticket machines too. As we were going down the escalator to the train, a bunch of college students carrying life affirming placards and signs were going up the escalator. I told my kids that they were either lost, or meeting some of their friends, because they were headed the wrong way. I don’t think they believed me. As we only had to go down one stop to Archives/Navy Memorial I started thinking about lunch ideas.

When we got off at our stop, it was 1215. Now, the rally at the assembly point was starting up, but I knew that the march itself didn’t begin until 1330, so it was time to have some lunch. My wife and I discussed going to the Old Post Office, where there are plenty of food vendors, or to a restaurant close by. Lots of our fellow Pro-Lifers were walking around and lining the streets already, so we started walking toward the Mall.

The Lovers, Picasso

The rally point for the March was near the National Gallery of Art, and as we neared it I recalled that there was a cafeteria underground between it and the Gallery of Modern Art. No one appeared to be heading towards the Gallery so, being the contrarian that I am, that is where we headed. The guards checked our bags and we were warm and inside, headed to bathrooms and then on to lunch. We even got to snap a few more photographs of some beautiful paintings again.

We took the elevator downstairs to where the shops and cafeteria were. I issued orders that the kids could order all they wanted, but that they would have to eat all they took. My oldest said, “wait, is this where we came that time and we all ordered too much?” And I said, “yes, this is where you guys broke me last summer. Be gentle this time!” And they were. We sat across from the water fall and noted other marchers that were also here for lunch. More than a few priests wearing their collars were evident as well.

Team Weathers at “chow.”

As my wife and I ate lunch I commented, “You know, it’s as if that whole trip last summer was a preparation for us coming here now. As if that was a reconnaissance or pathfinder mission just so we would be prepared for this trip.” She nodded in agreement and said, “It seems that way, doesn’t it. It’s a blessing that we knew where to eat, where the Metro stations are, and everything.” By now it was 1315, so we wrapped up our lunch, headed to bathrooms again (where we saw actual working phone booths!) and then ventured back out into the throng of peaceful protesters just like ourselves.

I love this guy!

There were people from all over the country, as well as from all over the world here. Why from the world? Pro-Life solidarity, I reckon. We saw German, Italian, and Irish flags for sure. We saw Orthodox Jews, Orthodox Christians, Episcopalians for Life, Lutherans for Life, and lots and lots of Catholics. I’m sure there were many other churches present as well. What I didn’t see were any Pro-Abortion supporters at all. Maybe it was too cold for them? I don’t know.

We even saw an Anarchist/Agnostic for Life though, which makes sense because if you think that being Pro-Life is only because of our religious beliefs, you don’t have your thinking cap on. I was Pro-Life long before I became a Catholic because killing babies can just never be justified. Not if you use your ability to think and reason. A humanism that feeds off of the deaths of other human beings is a Soylent Green type of future that I don’t find appealing at all.

For the rest of this post, I’ll let the pictures do the talking,

Peaceful warriors await!
Our Lady keeps her children warm.
A few hundred thousand people assembling on the Mall.
A few hundred thousand people listening to speeches.
If it’s this crowded when it’s cold, imagine if it was warm!
Pan camera a little more to the left…More peoples!
Team Weathers with the XO.
New Yorkers for Life!
The lead elements in the March.
A few hundred thousand people on Constitution Avenue.
Amidst the “slow moving party” on Pennsylvania Ave.
Standing room only so, let’s dance!
In Front of the Supreme Court.
The time? 1600. Time to head home after a successful mission.

We got back to the car, and got back on the road for the return trip home. I made it as the pilot all the way back to Roanoke. There, we refueled and I handed the tiller over to the XO. We arrived back home at midnight, safe and sound. 36 hours from the beginning to the end. A minor miracle in itself.

To God be the Glory!

* All photographs belong to the author.

Updates:


An Apology from the Baby Boomers.

“The Kid” went to the March and posts on it here.

And “the Kid” made a video too. Help us make it go viral!

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