Dear U.S. Catholic,
Today I received a note from you informing me of the opportunity to get a professional discount on your magazine. While I appreciate your well-intended offer, I must decline. You see, when I was in high school, I subscribed to your publication unaware of what lurked within. As I received copies that discussed the notion of "bringing back" a female deaconate (an idea that rests entirely on the false premise that there ever was a female deaconate), I realized that your journalistic integrity, if it ever existed, had fallen by the way side to make room for the much more popular and contemporary model of journalistic sensationalism: instead of using your writing skills to bring the truth to light, you evidently wished to sell more copies at the expense of fine journalistic and academic honesty.
For sacrificing at the altar of commercialized, compromised faith, I must refuse you. It is not good to eat meat sacrificed to idols. Of course, should you ever wish to return to the deposit of faith handed on by our Lord, that sacred deposit which St. Paul charged Timothy to guard (a duty most perfectly upheld by the martyrs), then I may consider once again subscribing. In the meantime, I do firmly assure you and your ilk (read: the National Catholic Distorter) that I will not purchase your sullied goods, and if I happen to come across a copy in my Catholic dentist's office, I will be sure to ask to keep it, so that I may lend it to a good friend who keeps a rather rambunctious parrot. My money will go to much more worthwhile publications, such as the National Catholic Register and The Sower Review.
His (not "hers" or "its" or any other PC attempt to neuter our image of our heavenly Father) Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Monday, April 28, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Sunday Scripture: "I Will Not Leave You Orphans"
Note: This is the first installment of what I hope to make a regular article, a meditation on the Sunday readings.
Readings for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Sunday, April 27, 2008
In this Sunday's Gospel, Jesus tells us, "I will not leave you orphans," a phrase which indicates not only His going to the Father, but also His eternal place as Immanuel, God-with-us. This saying therefore indicates both the transcendent and immanent nature of the Holy Trinity; God is both transcendent, dwelling in heaven beyond all created things, and immanent, dwelling in the universe, especially in the souls of His faithful ones.
These two aspects reveal the way in which we become a part of God's family, in particular, to cooperate in the interior, trinitarian life of God. As we know, the life of God is a life of eternal, self-giving love. Jesus has in many places as well as in this Gospel reading told us that to love the Father is to obey the commandments; indeed, the act of keeping the commandments can be accomplished only by love (Matthew 22:37-40, Galatians 5:4). It is no surprise that He tells us here that we may love Him by keeping the commandments, yet His audience must certainly have had difficulty with this saying; the people of Israel had never found it an easy task (Ecclesiastes 7:20). They had to wonder at this, asking themselves in their hearts, "how can we keep the commandments?" Jesus knows this and provides an immediate answer: the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is new life. In the Old Testament, the Hebrew word for the "breath" God breathed into Adam's nostrils was ruah; the same word was used in reference to the Holy Spirit.
The saints who dealt especially with the Holy Trinity tell us that the Holy Spirit is the bond of love between Father and Son. The Father gives Himself in the Holy Spirit to the Son and the Son returns Himself in the Holy Spirit to the Father. Thus, each of the Persons of the Holy Trinity dwells entirely within each other. This view of the Trinity makes more sense with the help of other passages (John 15 is wonderful for Trinitarian meditation).
In the Gospel reading, the Son of God offers us the Holy Spirit as an advocate (literally, one who can be called to our side, the term was used then as it is today, in reference to a lawyer or patron). By offering the Holy Spirit to us, Jesus includes humanity in the family of God. This love which binds the Father and the Son also makes it possible for us to come into the cycle (for lack of a better word) of divine love.
Because Christ dwells in the Holy Spirit, those who know the Holy Spirit know Christ, and they know Him by sharing in the Spirit of Love, which is lived out by the fulfillment of His commandments. Through Christ, they also know the Father, whom He has made known.
Therefore, the gift and duty (munus) of the Christian is to live in the Holy Spirit, loving God and obeying the commandments, and therefore becoming more and more perfectly a member of the divine family. Through His gift of the Holy Spirit, Jesus Christ remains with us, and does not leave us orphans. He will not be gone to us, but with us forevermore.
In order to place the emphasis once more on the Holy Spirit, Jesus concludes what He has said: our love depends on entirely on keeping the commandments. The answer to the dilemma is what Jesus has just declared: the Holy Spirit.
The other readings make the role of the Paraclete more clear. The first reading makes it clear that the Holy Spirit is for all Christians, a necessary Gift of God. The second reading tells us that it was the Holy Spirit who brought Christ to new life. The point is clear: the Holy Spirit, this wonderful Gift of God, is given to us as a participation in the life of God, not only in the Resurrection (the "new life" of Christ), but also in the intimate life of the Holy Trinity.
In a few weeks, we will celebrate Pentecost. The Holy Spirit is coming. Christ will not leave us orphans.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Readings for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Sunday, April 27, 2008
In this Sunday's Gospel, Jesus tells us, "I will not leave you orphans," a phrase which indicates not only His going to the Father, but also His eternal place as Immanuel, God-with-us. This saying therefore indicates both the transcendent and immanent nature of the Holy Trinity; God is both transcendent, dwelling in heaven beyond all created things, and immanent, dwelling in the universe, especially in the souls of His faithful ones.
These two aspects reveal the way in which we become a part of God's family, in particular, to cooperate in the interior, trinitarian life of God. As we know, the life of God is a life of eternal, self-giving love. Jesus has in many places as well as in this Gospel reading told us that to love the Father is to obey the commandments; indeed, the act of keeping the commandments can be accomplished only by love (Matthew 22:37-40, Galatians 5:4). It is no surprise that He tells us here that we may love Him by keeping the commandments, yet His audience must certainly have had difficulty with this saying; the people of Israel had never found it an easy task (Ecclesiastes 7:20). They had to wonder at this, asking themselves in their hearts, "how can we keep the commandments?" Jesus knows this and provides an immediate answer: the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is new life. In the Old Testament, the Hebrew word for the "breath" God breathed into Adam's nostrils was ruah; the same word was used in reference to the Holy Spirit.
The saints who dealt especially with the Holy Trinity tell us that the Holy Spirit is the bond of love between Father and Son. The Father gives Himself in the Holy Spirit to the Son and the Son returns Himself in the Holy Spirit to the Father. Thus, each of the Persons of the Holy Trinity dwells entirely within each other. This view of the Trinity makes more sense with the help of other passages (John 15 is wonderful for Trinitarian meditation).
In the Gospel reading, the Son of God offers us the Holy Spirit as an advocate (literally, one who can be called to our side, the term was used then as it is today, in reference to a lawyer or patron). By offering the Holy Spirit to us, Jesus includes humanity in the family of God. This love which binds the Father and the Son also makes it possible for us to come into the cycle (for lack of a better word) of divine love.
Because Christ dwells in the Holy Spirit, those who know the Holy Spirit know Christ, and they know Him by sharing in the Spirit of Love, which is lived out by the fulfillment of His commandments. Through Christ, they also know the Father, whom He has made known.
Therefore, the gift and duty (munus) of the Christian is to live in the Holy Spirit, loving God and obeying the commandments, and therefore becoming more and more perfectly a member of the divine family. Through His gift of the Holy Spirit, Jesus Christ remains with us, and does not leave us orphans. He will not be gone to us, but with us forevermore.
In order to place the emphasis once more on the Holy Spirit, Jesus concludes what He has said: our love depends on entirely on keeping the commandments. The answer to the dilemma is what Jesus has just declared: the Holy Spirit.
The other readings make the role of the Paraclete more clear. The first reading makes it clear that the Holy Spirit is for all Christians, a necessary Gift of God. The second reading tells us that it was the Holy Spirit who brought Christ to new life. The point is clear: the Holy Spirit, this wonderful Gift of God, is given to us as a participation in the life of God, not only in the Resurrection (the "new life" of Christ), but also in the intimate life of the Holy Trinity.
In a few weeks, we will celebrate Pentecost. The Holy Spirit is coming. Christ will not leave us orphans.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Interview with the Blogger
Q: So, tell us a few things about your appearance.
A: Well, let's see...I'm male, 5'8", about 185 lbs., I have medium brown hair and dark green eyes. I prefer to wear relaxed jeans with a brown belt and brown shoes, and I get made fun of for all the blue shirts I wear, but I actually prefer to wear red with the brown. Oh, and I have a really round sort of "Charlie Brown" head. Hats look awful on me.
Q: Where did you go to college?
A: Well, isn't that a loaded question? I went to three different colleges. Some would say I couldn't make up my mind, but I think it had more to do with God's mind with mine. First I went to Conception Seminary College in Conception, Missouri. Then I attended the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Finally, I graduated from Franciscan University of Steubenville.
Q: What is your degree?
A: I'm a bachelor of arts in theology and catechetics with a minor in Latin.
Q: What do you have in front of you right now?
A: Well, aside from my laptop, I have my phone, my wallet, a bag of potato rolls, my wife's cap, and a bunch of kitchen stuff in front of me (I'm writing on the bar). By the way, I just lost the game.
Q: What do you think about the rapid displacement of human labor in the world economy?
A: Huh?
Q: What are your hobbies?
A: I actually really enjoy cooking. Architecture is also an interest of mine.
Q: Who's your patron saint?
A: St. Raphael the Archangel. Sorry, St. Joseph. I love ya, man.
Q: What would you do if you won the lottery?
A: Buy a bunch of tacos and give them to dUSt over at Phatmass. Okay, no...I'd probably start a fund for catechists. We don't get paid very much, and I assure you, the cost of health insurance for Church employees is inversely proportional to their salaries...but only in the most negative ways. The less you make, the more you're probably going to pay.
Q: Is catechetics a rewarding field?
A: It's a challenge, and there are days you just want to quit, but you pull through and then someone surprises you in a way that just shows you how much you need to keep up your work.
Q: What advice would you give your readers who are considering becoming catechists?
A: Try not to get into too much debt. Okay, just kidding...sort of. Actually, get into the habit of prayer while you're still in your studies, but don't let it be something you won't realistically be able to keep up while you're out in the field.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
A: Well, let's see...I'm male, 5'8", about 185 lbs., I have medium brown hair and dark green eyes. I prefer to wear relaxed jeans with a brown belt and brown shoes, and I get made fun of for all the blue shirts I wear, but I actually prefer to wear red with the brown. Oh, and I have a really round sort of "Charlie Brown" head. Hats look awful on me.
Q: Where did you go to college?
A: Well, isn't that a loaded question? I went to three different colleges. Some would say I couldn't make up my mind, but I think it had more to do with God's mind with mine. First I went to Conception Seminary College in Conception, Missouri. Then I attended the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Finally, I graduated from Franciscan University of Steubenville.
Q: What is your degree?
A: I'm a bachelor of arts in theology and catechetics with a minor in Latin.
Q: What do you have in front of you right now?
A: Well, aside from my laptop, I have my phone, my wallet, a bag of potato rolls, my wife's cap, and a bunch of kitchen stuff in front of me (I'm writing on the bar). By the way, I just lost the game.
Q: What do you think about the rapid displacement of human labor in the world economy?
A: Huh?
Q: What are your hobbies?
A: I actually really enjoy cooking. Architecture is also an interest of mine.
Q: Who's your patron saint?
A: St. Raphael the Archangel. Sorry, St. Joseph. I love ya, man.
Q: What would you do if you won the lottery?
A: Buy a bunch of tacos and give them to dUSt over at Phatmass. Okay, no...I'd probably start a fund for catechists. We don't get paid very much, and I assure you, the cost of health insurance for Church employees is inversely proportional to their salaries...but only in the most negative ways. The less you make, the more you're probably going to pay.
Q: Is catechetics a rewarding field?
A: It's a challenge, and there are days you just want to quit, but you pull through and then someone surprises you in a way that just shows you how much you need to keep up your work.
Q: What advice would you give your readers who are considering becoming catechists?
A: Try not to get into too much debt. Okay, just kidding...sort of. Actually, get into the habit of prayer while you're still in your studies, but don't let it be something you won't realistically be able to keep up while you're out in the field.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Friday, April 25, 2008
Personal Testimony
Foreword: the following is my personal testimony. It is only one angle of my conversion/reversion story. More precisely, it focuses on the discovery of my true identity, which is still unfolding in my life. My biography contains a more full picture of who I am.
Some Catholic bloggers speak of their conversions, but I speak of reversion. This is because I was always a Catholic, at least in name, but I was not always the most devout Catholic (and, to be honest, I am still not the most devout Catholic, but I want to be, and I hope you will pray that I may be as devout as God made me to be). I went through many years of complacency in my faith. I am writing this partly to tell my story and where I'm coming from, partly to fill up a little space on my blog, and partly to remind myself of God's wonderful works in my life.
As I've said in my bio, I was born in Omaha, Nebraska in 1984. In January 1985, I was baptized into the Catholic faith, the faith of my parents. I remember my early years fairly well; we moved from mid-town (Omaha is a fairly spread out place, for those who do not know) to the suburbs in 1989 and I grew up next to a playground. It was a wonderful childhood, to be fair, although I'm sure I had my fair share of complaints at the time (and my parents assure me I was quite the whiner). Once I was old enough to go to school, my parents sent me to two kindergartens, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. They led me to believe that this was for the benefit of my education, although I'm sure the added benefit of having me out of the home a few more hours a day must have entered their minds at some point. In any event, it didn't work. My grades were quite mediocre until fourth grade, at which point they turned to miserable. It would not be until I found the joy of passion that I would recover from my downward spiral, but more on that later.
When I was a young child, I had few friends. My interpersonal skills then (as well as now) lacked finesse; the bonds of friendships I forged were the type that centered on material goods, whoever had the best toys, those kids were my friends. Oftentimes, though, I suppose I was unsatisfied with this early materialistic lifestyle. I would walk the blacktop alone during recess, but I was quite content; I remember quite well having conversations with my Friend, who was visible only to the eyes of faith. It actually makes me laugh a little; I'll be frank, I was a cute kid, and I would set these little conversations of my heart to music. You can almost feel the innocence.
At some point, for whatever reason, I became interested in more worldly things. I suppose what came first was a desire for respect, for fame, "to be somebody," as Fr. John Corapi once put it in his personal testimony. We all want to be somebody. I recall bragging about anything and everything I could, and I could not understand why this did not gain me friends. The more I tried to lift myself up, the less people liked me. So, naturally, I would try to tear them down. I was becoming bitter, angry, and selfish. It was then that I discovered my gifts, gifts I just knew I could use to become popular.
God gave me an interest in questions of how and why. The first passion in my life to be sparked was science. I excelled at math and science, and I remember astonishing classmates when "the dumb kid who can't keep his mouth shut" got the top score on the 8th grade astronomy test. In fact, I corrected my teacher on several occasions. It was great to be smart.
Still, it won me no friends. I continued my interest in science into high school. I started with integrated physical science (meteorology and geology), then moved on to biology. After bio, I went for chemistry (dropped out after only a semester) and astronomy, as well as physics and, finally, advanced physics. Science never ceases to amaze me; I still frequently look up science news and I just find the whole field absolutely fascinating, but I digress...
At the time, I thought it was a fluke (I had planned on taking Japanese, but changed my mind at the last moment), but the more I considered it, the more it became apparent that providence led me into my other high school passion: Latin. Now, I must say that during high school, I struggled with many of the same things other high school boys struggle with, and those things were in addition to my anger and frustration, not to mention my loneliness. Latin, though, introduced me to a whole new world. My world was miserable; Latin proposed that there was another world...Rome...the great empire...and its ideals were beautiful to me: justice, honor, and pride...its extensive laws and philosophical backgrounds (largely borrowed from those cultures surrounding the Eternal City). My Latin teacher tried to teach us philosophy; I learned about Socrates and Plato, the Stoics, the Epicureans, and others. I enjoyed the tenets of stoic philosophy. Things were so idealistic, and it was wonderful to have something, a source of hope, in a way, to look forward to.
When, of course, it sank in that Latin was the language of my Church, I developed a healthy pride about being Catholic. Surrounded by non-Catholics and non-Christians for the first time in my life (before high school, I had been a Catholic school student), I was challenged to learn about my faith. The dawn of philosophy in my mind, as well as this search for theological truth in my heart, led me down a path from which I could not return. Given the course of my only romantic relationship before the one I currently enjoy with my wife, I chose to enter the seminary, and there I applied this theological philosophy to the very core of my life. I had always wanted to be somebody, but I had never stopped to realize that the somebody I was called to be was an alter Christus, another Christ. My identity, the identities of all Christians, are rooted in Jesus Christ, who calls us, called me, to declare His wonderful works.
The Catholic Church, despite the opinions of her self-declared enemies, is very centered on the idea of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Naturally, He does not appear to many of us, but this personal relationship begins with a meeting, an encounter with truth. It was truth I found in my teens, as I pondered the mysteries of the faith, seeking to understand what I already believed. In those days, I encountered Jesus Christ. I asked Him "how" - how did He make the universe, speckled with galaxies and stars and nebulae and planets, and on one of those little planets, teeming with life, how did He create man? How could I not be in awe? My thirst could not be quenched, I had to know more: "why" - why did He make the universe, why did He make us, why did He make me?
I had not stopped until now to realize what He did in leading me. His guiding hand was there at every moment of my life; even when I sinned, He was there guiding me, so that I might not forget it. Those gifts of His I would use for my own selfish advancement, He was using for my salvation. When I was amazed by science, I was unknowingly in awe of Him, when I asked the meaning of all things, I found Him, watching and waiting, drawing me closer to Him through the means of my own choosing.
In a post-Christian world filled with science and philosophy, but no true knowledge or wisdom, I have to ask myself, having walked those paths, are we asking the right questions? We ask how and why, but do we ever ask who? When it comes to creation, the how and the why can only be answered if there was a who who spoke all things into being. Perhaps if we would focus instead on that who, we would find the answers to all questions, and more importantly, discover who we are.
As for me, I am an alter Christus...I just hope I live up to it.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Some Catholic bloggers speak of their conversions, but I speak of reversion. This is because I was always a Catholic, at least in name, but I was not always the most devout Catholic (and, to be honest, I am still not the most devout Catholic, but I want to be, and I hope you will pray that I may be as devout as God made me to be). I went through many years of complacency in my faith. I am writing this partly to tell my story and where I'm coming from, partly to fill up a little space on my blog, and partly to remind myself of God's wonderful works in my life.
As I've said in my bio, I was born in Omaha, Nebraska in 1984. In January 1985, I was baptized into the Catholic faith, the faith of my parents. I remember my early years fairly well; we moved from mid-town (Omaha is a fairly spread out place, for those who do not know) to the suburbs in 1989 and I grew up next to a playground. It was a wonderful childhood, to be fair, although I'm sure I had my fair share of complaints at the time (and my parents assure me I was quite the whiner). Once I was old enough to go to school, my parents sent me to two kindergartens, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. They led me to believe that this was for the benefit of my education, although I'm sure the added benefit of having me out of the home a few more hours a day must have entered their minds at some point. In any event, it didn't work. My grades were quite mediocre until fourth grade, at which point they turned to miserable. It would not be until I found the joy of passion that I would recover from my downward spiral, but more on that later.
When I was a young child, I had few friends. My interpersonal skills then (as well as now) lacked finesse; the bonds of friendships I forged were the type that centered on material goods, whoever had the best toys, those kids were my friends. Oftentimes, though, I suppose I was unsatisfied with this early materialistic lifestyle. I would walk the blacktop alone during recess, but I was quite content; I remember quite well having conversations with my Friend, who was visible only to the eyes of faith. It actually makes me laugh a little; I'll be frank, I was a cute kid, and I would set these little conversations of my heart to music. You can almost feel the innocence.
At some point, for whatever reason, I became interested in more worldly things. I suppose what came first was a desire for respect, for fame, "to be somebody," as Fr. John Corapi once put it in his personal testimony. We all want to be somebody. I recall bragging about anything and everything I could, and I could not understand why this did not gain me friends. The more I tried to lift myself up, the less people liked me. So, naturally, I would try to tear them down. I was becoming bitter, angry, and selfish. It was then that I discovered my gifts, gifts I just knew I could use to become popular.
God gave me an interest in questions of how and why. The first passion in my life to be sparked was science. I excelled at math and science, and I remember astonishing classmates when "the dumb kid who can't keep his mouth shut" got the top score on the 8th grade astronomy test. In fact, I corrected my teacher on several occasions. It was great to be smart.
Still, it won me no friends. I continued my interest in science into high school. I started with integrated physical science (meteorology and geology), then moved on to biology. After bio, I went for chemistry (dropped out after only a semester) and astronomy, as well as physics and, finally, advanced physics. Science never ceases to amaze me; I still frequently look up science news and I just find the whole field absolutely fascinating, but I digress...
At the time, I thought it was a fluke (I had planned on taking Japanese, but changed my mind at the last moment), but the more I considered it, the more it became apparent that providence led me into my other high school passion: Latin. Now, I must say that during high school, I struggled with many of the same things other high school boys struggle with, and those things were in addition to my anger and frustration, not to mention my loneliness. Latin, though, introduced me to a whole new world. My world was miserable; Latin proposed that there was another world...Rome...the great empire...and its ideals were beautiful to me: justice, honor, and pride...its extensive laws and philosophical backgrounds (largely borrowed from those cultures surrounding the Eternal City). My Latin teacher tried to teach us philosophy; I learned about Socrates and Plato, the Stoics, the Epicureans, and others. I enjoyed the tenets of stoic philosophy. Things were so idealistic, and it was wonderful to have something, a source of hope, in a way, to look forward to.
When, of course, it sank in that Latin was the language of my Church, I developed a healthy pride about being Catholic. Surrounded by non-Catholics and non-Christians for the first time in my life (before high school, I had been a Catholic school student), I was challenged to learn about my faith. The dawn of philosophy in my mind, as well as this search for theological truth in my heart, led me down a path from which I could not return. Given the course of my only romantic relationship before the one I currently enjoy with my wife, I chose to enter the seminary, and there I applied this theological philosophy to the very core of my life. I had always wanted to be somebody, but I had never stopped to realize that the somebody I was called to be was an alter Christus, another Christ. My identity, the identities of all Christians, are rooted in Jesus Christ, who calls us, called me, to declare His wonderful works.
The Catholic Church, despite the opinions of her self-declared enemies, is very centered on the idea of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Naturally, He does not appear to many of us, but this personal relationship begins with a meeting, an encounter with truth. It was truth I found in my teens, as I pondered the mysteries of the faith, seeking to understand what I already believed. In those days, I encountered Jesus Christ. I asked Him "how" - how did He make the universe, speckled with galaxies and stars and nebulae and planets, and on one of those little planets, teeming with life, how did He create man? How could I not be in awe? My thirst could not be quenched, I had to know more: "why" - why did He make the universe, why did He make us, why did He make me?
I had not stopped until now to realize what He did in leading me. His guiding hand was there at every moment of my life; even when I sinned, He was there guiding me, so that I might not forget it. Those gifts of His I would use for my own selfish advancement, He was using for my salvation. When I was amazed by science, I was unknowingly in awe of Him, when I asked the meaning of all things, I found Him, watching and waiting, drawing me closer to Him through the means of my own choosing.
In a post-Christian world filled with science and philosophy, but no true knowledge or wisdom, I have to ask myself, having walked those paths, are we asking the right questions? We ask how and why, but do we ever ask who? When it comes to creation, the how and the why can only be answered if there was a who who spoke all things into being. Perhaps if we would focus instead on that who, we would find the answers to all questions, and more importantly, discover who we are.
As for me, I am an alter Christus...I just hope I live up to it.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Papa Benedict: Well Said, Part III
The third question Pope Benedict answered concerned the decline and fall of vocations in America. Pope Benedict replied by insisting that vocations have not declined; rather, the number of those answering vocations has declined. This is an important point. In an experience-based culture such as our own modern society, we tend to think, "if I don't feel it, it must not be." This, of course, is silly, but that's besides the point. The problem is that we tend to ignore the call of God (in whatever direction) and then claim that we didn't hear anything, so we must not have been called. This is not far off from a child who discovers that plugging his ears makes mom's and dad's repeated instructions to mow the yard not only null and void, but almost as if they didn't exist. It is no surprise; God speaks through a still, small voice, and our daily lives are 300 decibel jackhammers by comparison. The problem is that we're not listening, and even if we try to listen, we aren't aware that we're drowing Him out.
The pope picked up on this right away: "Strange to say, I often think that prayer - the unum necessarium - is the one aspect of vocations work which we tend to forget sometimes or to undervalue! Nor am I speaking only of prayer for vocations. Prayer itself, born in Catholic families, nurtured by programs of Christian formation, strengthened by the grace of the sacraments -- prayer is the first means by which we come to know the Lord's will for our lives. To the extent that we teach young people to pray, and to pray well, we will be cooperating with God's call. So I think learning prayer, being prayerful people, is an essential point for the living church. Programs, plans, projects are necessary and have their place; but the discernment of a vocation is above all the fruit of an intimate dialogue between the Lord and his disciples. Young people, if they know how to pray, can be trusted to know what to do with God's call."
So at the center of Pope Benedict's plan for increased vocations is the call to prayer. I will not now pretend to be an expert in the subject; my own prayer life is marred by failures and bouts of acedia. However, as a youth minister, I can see that prayer is becoming an ever more important thing to pass on effectively to my disciples. As the pope expressed, "I think there is a growing thirst for holiness in many young people, and that those who come forward show great idealism and much promise." I know that I thirst for holiness; the question is, will I respond?
Here's a challenge for my readers: suggest to me good books on prayer, not books on the theology behind prayer, but actual instruction, meditation, and aid for prayer, something that will significantly aid my attempt to renew a prayerful spirit within myself.
As for you, readers, I recommend the short, sweet (and sometimes bittersweet) sentences of St. Josemaria Escriva. I have only read about a few hundred of his sayings, but I found them very powerful food for my soul. Last night, I returned again to some of them. If we had Opus Dei down here, I would surely like to get involved.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
The pope picked up on this right away: "Strange to say, I often think that prayer - the unum necessarium - is the one aspect of vocations work which we tend to forget sometimes or to undervalue! Nor am I speaking only of prayer for vocations. Prayer itself, born in Catholic families, nurtured by programs of Christian formation, strengthened by the grace of the sacraments -- prayer is the first means by which we come to know the Lord's will for our lives. To the extent that we teach young people to pray, and to pray well, we will be cooperating with God's call. So I think learning prayer, being prayerful people, is an essential point for the living church. Programs, plans, projects are necessary and have their place; but the discernment of a vocation is above all the fruit of an intimate dialogue between the Lord and his disciples. Young people, if they know how to pray, can be trusted to know what to do with God's call."
So at the center of Pope Benedict's plan for increased vocations is the call to prayer. I will not now pretend to be an expert in the subject; my own prayer life is marred by failures and bouts of acedia. However, as a youth minister, I can see that prayer is becoming an ever more important thing to pass on effectively to my disciples. As the pope expressed, "I think there is a growing thirst for holiness in many young people, and that those who come forward show great idealism and much promise." I know that I thirst for holiness; the question is, will I respond?
Here's a challenge for my readers: suggest to me good books on prayer, not books on the theology behind prayer, but actual instruction, meditation, and aid for prayer, something that will significantly aid my attempt to renew a prayerful spirit within myself.
As for you, readers, I recommend the short, sweet (and sometimes bittersweet) sentences of St. Josemaria Escriva. I have only read about a few hundred of his sayings, but I found them very powerful food for my soul. Last night, I returned again to some of them. If we had Opus Dei down here, I would surely like to get involved.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Papa Benedict: Well Said, Part II
The pope was next asked about the way some Catholics are slowly distancing themselves from the Church. Pope Benedict responded by rightly pointing to the disintegration of religious culture, by which many a person’s own heritage was bound up in the Catholic faith. However, he went on, the problem is not just in the external lack of religious culture, but in the fact that there is no longer in our popular culture “a way of thinking and acting grounded in the Gospel and enriched by the Church's living tradition.”
The pope asks three questions, which, despite their rhetorical nature, I wish to answer here. They are: “do people today find it difficult to encounter God in our Churches? Has our preaching lost its salt? Might it be that many people have forgotten, or never really learned, how to pray in and with the Church?”
Without overextending myself into criticism, the answer to the first question is obvious: how easily could a person encounter God in a church stripped of meaning, without artful form or beauty, where bleak humanity shines through as the creator of the sanctuary, rather than that sanctuary being an image of the heavenly creation of God? Of course, Pope Benedict, I am sure, does not encourage poor architecture in our churches; in fact, I’m quite positive he’s far more in favor of the traditional grandeur that accompanies Catholic churches built before some followers of Frank Loyd Wright decided that we needed a bare-boned structure in the international style of architecture or, perhaps worse, a church that resembles a half-opened can of tuna (like that monstrosity of a bomb shelter they call a chapel at Franciscan University; and to clarify, I am an alum of that great university, but its greatness in academic orthodoxy is not reflected in its ecclesial architecture). We need to return to classic architecture. My parish is in discussions at the moment about possibly relocating and building a larger church. Because of a priest shortage in our diocese, the capacity of such a building would need to be 1,000 persons. A friend and I were discussing it and came to the conclusion that meeting the need for greater capacity cannot also demand making the building more utilitarian and less classically inspired. Perhaps I will address the issue of church architecture another time; it is a passion of mine.
With regard to the second question, the answer is also easy: in too many places, preaching has lost its salt. Gone is the revealing mystery of good homiletics practice, the challenges of moral teaching, and the prayerful sursum corda that once took place in the hearts of the people of God when they heard the words of the priest. Very few priests, in my experience, know how to give a good, challenging, insightful, and prayerful homily. Many homilies I have heard are far more akin to pats on the back, which, while occasionally merited, only allows the church as a whole to slip into complacency.
The pope knows the answers to these questions, I think, and the next one seems to reveal the reason behind his rhetorical approach. It is almost as if he’s nudging us, trying to put the answer right in front of our noses, without directly telling us what we need to do: “might it be that many people have forgotten, or never really learned, how to pray in and with the Church?” I, for one, am not particularly good at prayer, and despite my attempts to learn or to train myself from primers and devoted books on prayer, I cannot master it, because I have no one to show me the way. I wonder, perhaps, if this is where the charismatic movement came from, because I have felt most at prayer (not to call prayer a feeling, as I know some readers may jump at me for saying) when I am among charismatics, able to open my mouth and pray from the depths of my heart, casting all my hopes and fears on the Lord. Still, it’s obvious that we must also pray with the Church, in the language of the Scriptures, and Pope Benedict makes this important point in summing up the apparent problem at the root of this dilemma: “Christian faith, as we know, is essentially ecclesial, and without a living bond to the community, the individual's faith will never grow to maturity.” The same is true, of course, of an individual’s prayer life. Yet it is often only the older members of our parish communities that gather in prayer whenever they are not absolutely required. The youth of today must also stand up with them and begin sodalities and other groups to encourage religious devotions and popular piety.
As I said, I suspect the pope knows the answers to these questions, which is why explains: “we are speaking about people who have fallen by the wayside without consciously having rejected their faith in Christ, but, for whatever reason, have not drawn life from the liturgy, the sacraments, preaching.” The problem is that many in the Church have not presented the lex credendi, the lex orandi, or the lex vivendi the way the Lord handed them on to us. Is it really no wonder that, having the experience of awe which rightly comes from inspiring churches, masterful homilies, and deep prayer ripped away, so many of today’s Catholics have moved on to other things?
The pope goes on to make two valid points: 1) it is difficult in our Western culture to preach a message of salvation, and 2) we have lost the eschatological view of our faith. First, we tend not to think of salvation, and why should we? We are told that modern medicine, the government, the public school system, and social security are all our saviors. Those who are proud and sit in luxury hardly think of the spiritual harm they do to themselves. Second, we have lost our view of heaven and hell. This is related to the first because, in view of the eschaton, we all need salvation, despite the goings on of our lives on this earth. As St. Ignatius of Loyola taught his companions, “brother, remember your death.” Death, the last thing in life, greets us all, and when it comes, even the most secure man cowers before it seeking salvation.
Lastly, the pope asks for a new approach to evangelization. How gravely this is needed! Yet, I wonder, is the new hidden in the old? Satan has a way of vaccinating God’s people against the truth. If he can just get those darned Catholics to practice their faith in an unsatisfactory way, then the faith will appear irrelevant, and those who have seen it will think little of it. When a saint comes along declaring Christ, the people will think he is just another hypocrite. What is needed is an ever new, radically-lived Christian faith, unyielding to the pressures of this world, and so remarkably pure that it hardly resembles the pseudo-Christian faith so often preached, except in some certain core similarities…and am I the one to offer this way of life? No, not I, I do not pray nearly enough. Perhaps you? Perhaps some reader who has a strong relationship with God and more faith than this poor blogger.
Let us rise up and preach to our generation: no more sin! No more mediocrity! Stand for Christ or fall!
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
The pope asks three questions, which, despite their rhetorical nature, I wish to answer here. They are: “do people today find it difficult to encounter God in our Churches? Has our preaching lost its salt? Might it be that many people have forgotten, or never really learned, how to pray in and with the Church?”
Without overextending myself into criticism, the answer to the first question is obvious: how easily could a person encounter God in a church stripped of meaning, without artful form or beauty, where bleak humanity shines through as the creator of the sanctuary, rather than that sanctuary being an image of the heavenly creation of God? Of course, Pope Benedict, I am sure, does not encourage poor architecture in our churches; in fact, I’m quite positive he’s far more in favor of the traditional grandeur that accompanies Catholic churches built before some followers of Frank Loyd Wright decided that we needed a bare-boned structure in the international style of architecture or, perhaps worse, a church that resembles a half-opened can of tuna (like that monstrosity of a bomb shelter they call a chapel at Franciscan University; and to clarify, I am an alum of that great university, but its greatness in academic orthodoxy is not reflected in its ecclesial architecture). We need to return to classic architecture. My parish is in discussions at the moment about possibly relocating and building a larger church. Because of a priest shortage in our diocese, the capacity of such a building would need to be 1,000 persons. A friend and I were discussing it and came to the conclusion that meeting the need for greater capacity cannot also demand making the building more utilitarian and less classically inspired. Perhaps I will address the issue of church architecture another time; it is a passion of mine.
With regard to the second question, the answer is also easy: in too many places, preaching has lost its salt. Gone is the revealing mystery of good homiletics practice, the challenges of moral teaching, and the prayerful sursum corda that once took place in the hearts of the people of God when they heard the words of the priest. Very few priests, in my experience, know how to give a good, challenging, insightful, and prayerful homily. Many homilies I have heard are far more akin to pats on the back, which, while occasionally merited, only allows the church as a whole to slip into complacency.
The pope knows the answers to these questions, I think, and the next one seems to reveal the reason behind his rhetorical approach. It is almost as if he’s nudging us, trying to put the answer right in front of our noses, without directly telling us what we need to do: “might it be that many people have forgotten, or never really learned, how to pray in and with the Church?” I, for one, am not particularly good at prayer, and despite my attempts to learn or to train myself from primers and devoted books on prayer, I cannot master it, because I have no one to show me the way. I wonder, perhaps, if this is where the charismatic movement came from, because I have felt most at prayer (not to call prayer a feeling, as I know some readers may jump at me for saying) when I am among charismatics, able to open my mouth and pray from the depths of my heart, casting all my hopes and fears on the Lord. Still, it’s obvious that we must also pray with the Church, in the language of the Scriptures, and Pope Benedict makes this important point in summing up the apparent problem at the root of this dilemma: “Christian faith, as we know, is essentially ecclesial, and without a living bond to the community, the individual's faith will never grow to maturity.” The same is true, of course, of an individual’s prayer life. Yet it is often only the older members of our parish communities that gather in prayer whenever they are not absolutely required. The youth of today must also stand up with them and begin sodalities and other groups to encourage religious devotions and popular piety.
As I said, I suspect the pope knows the answers to these questions, which is why explains: “we are speaking about people who have fallen by the wayside without consciously having rejected their faith in Christ, but, for whatever reason, have not drawn life from the liturgy, the sacraments, preaching.” The problem is that many in the Church have not presented the lex credendi, the lex orandi, or the lex vivendi the way the Lord handed them on to us. Is it really no wonder that, having the experience of awe which rightly comes from inspiring churches, masterful homilies, and deep prayer ripped away, so many of today’s Catholics have moved on to other things?
The pope goes on to make two valid points: 1) it is difficult in our Western culture to preach a message of salvation, and 2) we have lost the eschatological view of our faith. First, we tend not to think of salvation, and why should we? We are told that modern medicine, the government, the public school system, and social security are all our saviors. Those who are proud and sit in luxury hardly think of the spiritual harm they do to themselves. Second, we have lost our view of heaven and hell. This is related to the first because, in view of the eschaton, we all need salvation, despite the goings on of our lives on this earth. As St. Ignatius of Loyola taught his companions, “brother, remember your death.” Death, the last thing in life, greets us all, and when it comes, even the most secure man cowers before it seeking salvation.
Lastly, the pope asks for a new approach to evangelization. How gravely this is needed! Yet, I wonder, is the new hidden in the old? Satan has a way of vaccinating God’s people against the truth. If he can just get those darned Catholics to practice their faith in an unsatisfactory way, then the faith will appear irrelevant, and those who have seen it will think little of it. When a saint comes along declaring Christ, the people will think he is just another hypocrite. What is needed is an ever new, radically-lived Christian faith, unyielding to the pressures of this world, and so remarkably pure that it hardly resembles the pseudo-Christian faith so often preached, except in some certain core similarities…and am I the one to offer this way of life? No, not I, I do not pray nearly enough. Perhaps you? Perhaps some reader who has a strong relationship with God and more faith than this poor blogger.
Let us rise up and preach to our generation: no more sin! No more mediocrity! Stand for Christ or fall!
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Out of the Office
Sorry for the delay in posts. Over the weekend, I had to rush my wife to the hospital ER twice. Everything is stabilizing now, but please pray for us. I am not certain when I will have the opportunity to post my additional comments on the pope's answers.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Papa Benedict: Well Said, Part I
As Rocco Palmo at Whispers in the Loggia continues his coverage of the papal visit to America, I noticed the pope's answers to the bishops in their Q&A session in the crypt church of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception reflected deep thought from one with a finger firmly on the pulse of the Catholic Church in America.
Pope Benedict XVI was asked three questions which weigh deeply on the hearts of all those seeing urgent need for a renewal of orthodoxy in the United States, one concerning the separation of faith from life and the relativistic intellectualism, another concerning the abandonment of the Catholic faith by Christians, and a third concerning the decline in vocations in America.
With regard to the first, Pope Benedict expressed a "particular problem" with American secularism: "it allows for professing belief in God, and respects the public role of religion and the Churches, but at the same time it can subtly reduce religious belief to a lowest common denominator. Faith becomes a passive acceptance that certain things 'out there' are true, but without practical relevance for everyday life. The result is a growing separation of faith from life: living 'as if God did not exist.'" I would say that the pope is absolutely correct, although I'm afraid I've been seeing America tending too much lately toward a more radical secularism, closer to that he has observed in Europe.
The problem with secularism is that it is often tied in our country to political correctness. The past shapes the future: I, a northerner, live in the south, and I have noticed how actively people here avoid arguments and confrontation, having been told on a few occasions that this southern tendency arises from the crushing blow to southern pride that was the Civil War (that's not to say that the south does not have pride or things of which to be proud, but that they don't tend to push the envelope too often). Likewise, the battle for equal rights under the law in the early and mid-1900's have affected the way people see secular society today: if secular society in America is not mixed with political correctness, then it is seen as offensive.
Offensiveness is something absolutely forbidden in American secularism. As long as a religion is not seen as offensive (which means especially that the religion is inclusive to all people, their traits, their histories, and their sins), the religion is tolerated and even extolled as a virtuous reach toward the common good of man (although it is not the true common good, but the pseudo-good of secular humanism). Therefore, Catholicism is tolerable and even virtuous so long as it is not offensive; a Catholicism that does not speak of sin, nor of our need to be saved (except, perhaps, from inequality), does not call God "He," does not insist that abortion and other grave yet popular moral evils (such as embryonic stem cell research, cloning, contraception, euthanasia, etc.) are wrong...such a Catholicism is tolerable, and if it can in some way contribute to humanitarian goals by running food shelters and visiting the sick (which the Church was doing long before secularism called it good), then it is virtuous (but only in a way that does not exclude women, since virtue does literally mean "manhood"). In essence: Catholicism is acceptable to secular society only when it is stripped of its meaning, relativized, and "open to interpretation." It is no surprise that, in the United States, secularism has not quite yet grown so anti-religious as it has in Europe; let's not forget: despite the great good of the Second Vatican Council (and I and this blog support it entirely), the Church in America has since tended far more toward the secularism-friendly version of the Church. Naturally, secular society has been slow to eradicate an enemy that does not fight for itself.
Pope Benedict offered a solution. Speaking in the language of our society (though, admittedly, more the language of conservatives than of liberals) and pointing to our constitutional foundations, he said, "what is needed, I am convinced, is a greater sense of the intrinsic relationship between the Gospel and the natural law on the one hand, and, on the other, the pursuit of authentic human good, as embodied in civil law and in personal moral decisions."
We speak of natural law in our country, of "the laws of nature and of nature's God" (to borrow a phrase from the pope's address at the White House), as a foundation for our legal system. Many conservative politicians have long pointed out this important understanding as a secular foundation for laws which would otherwise gain the approval of the Church (naturally, any law based on an authentic understanding of natural law would be entirely in line with divine law). Perhaps if we could use the natural law as an approach to the Gospel (as Pope John Paul II did so excellently in his Theology of the Body), we could make more converts from secular society and guide them, using reasonable arguments and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, into all truth.
Additionally, we speak already in terms of the human good, and our secular society understands the majority of that language, so the same argument carries over to his second solution. We need to use the language of America to point ourselves toward the greater fulfillment of human dignity in American society.
In other words, we need to use the well-intended foundations already set in our society and, with courage, build toward a society based on the truth of the Gospel. With this approach, we will be able to answer the challeng of a secular society "to reaffirm and to pursue more actively her [the Church's] mission in and to the world."
The pope's concluding remarks on this question summarize both the content of his message and the methods he proposes for bringing about renewal: "let me conclude, though, by saying that I believe that the Church in America, at this point in her history, is faced with the challenge of recapturing the Catholic vision of reality and presenting it, in an engaging and imaginative way, to a society which markets any number of recipes for human fulfillment."
We must reclaim and re-present our authentic faith, our view of reality, and do so in a way that is both engaging (by using the language of our culture so to enter into dialogue with it) and imaginative (in order to match the marketing techniques of a society which, as the pope noted, markets a variety of solutions to human needs...and as long as we're talking about marketing the faith, please allow me to point out the program Catholics Come Home, to which I was recently introduced, which was created by a Catholic with a marketing background).
None of us can do the work of the Church all on our own, but if we can work together with those who know the faith, can expound it intelligibly, can present it in the language and culture of the American people, and can market it to our country, we can make a serious difference for the better of the Church in the United States.
Pope Benedict XVI's answers to the other questions will be addressed in parts II and III of this article. Expect posts throughout the weekend.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Pope Benedict XVI was asked three questions which weigh deeply on the hearts of all those seeing urgent need for a renewal of orthodoxy in the United States, one concerning the separation of faith from life and the relativistic intellectualism, another concerning the abandonment of the Catholic faith by Christians, and a third concerning the decline in vocations in America.
With regard to the first, Pope Benedict expressed a "particular problem" with American secularism: "it allows for professing belief in God, and respects the public role of religion and the Churches, but at the same time it can subtly reduce religious belief to a lowest common denominator. Faith becomes a passive acceptance that certain things 'out there' are true, but without practical relevance for everyday life. The result is a growing separation of faith from life: living 'as if God did not exist.'" I would say that the pope is absolutely correct, although I'm afraid I've been seeing America tending too much lately toward a more radical secularism, closer to that he has observed in Europe.
The problem with secularism is that it is often tied in our country to political correctness. The past shapes the future: I, a northerner, live in the south, and I have noticed how actively people here avoid arguments and confrontation, having been told on a few occasions that this southern tendency arises from the crushing blow to southern pride that was the Civil War (that's not to say that the south does not have pride or things of which to be proud, but that they don't tend to push the envelope too often). Likewise, the battle for equal rights under the law in the early and mid-1900's have affected the way people see secular society today: if secular society in America is not mixed with political correctness, then it is seen as offensive.
Offensiveness is something absolutely forbidden in American secularism. As long as a religion is not seen as offensive (which means especially that the religion is inclusive to all people, their traits, their histories, and their sins), the religion is tolerated and even extolled as a virtuous reach toward the common good of man (although it is not the true common good, but the pseudo-good of secular humanism). Therefore, Catholicism is tolerable and even virtuous so long as it is not offensive; a Catholicism that does not speak of sin, nor of our need to be saved (except, perhaps, from inequality), does not call God "He," does not insist that abortion and other grave yet popular moral evils (such as embryonic stem cell research, cloning, contraception, euthanasia, etc.) are wrong...such a Catholicism is tolerable, and if it can in some way contribute to humanitarian goals by running food shelters and visiting the sick (which the Church was doing long before secularism called it good), then it is virtuous (but only in a way that does not exclude women, since virtue does literally mean "manhood"). In essence: Catholicism is acceptable to secular society only when it is stripped of its meaning, relativized, and "open to interpretation." It is no surprise that, in the United States, secularism has not quite yet grown so anti-religious as it has in Europe; let's not forget: despite the great good of the Second Vatican Council (and I and this blog support it entirely), the Church in America has since tended far more toward the secularism-friendly version of the Church. Naturally, secular society has been slow to eradicate an enemy that does not fight for itself.
Pope Benedict offered a solution. Speaking in the language of our society (though, admittedly, more the language of conservatives than of liberals) and pointing to our constitutional foundations, he said, "what is needed, I am convinced, is a greater sense of the intrinsic relationship between the Gospel and the natural law on the one hand, and, on the other, the pursuit of authentic human good, as embodied in civil law and in personal moral decisions."
We speak of natural law in our country, of "the laws of nature and of nature's God" (to borrow a phrase from the pope's address at the White House), as a foundation for our legal system. Many conservative politicians have long pointed out this important understanding as a secular foundation for laws which would otherwise gain the approval of the Church (naturally, any law based on an authentic understanding of natural law would be entirely in line with divine law). Perhaps if we could use the natural law as an approach to the Gospel (as Pope John Paul II did so excellently in his Theology of the Body), we could make more converts from secular society and guide them, using reasonable arguments and the guidance of the Holy Spirit, into all truth.
Additionally, we speak already in terms of the human good, and our secular society understands the majority of that language, so the same argument carries over to his second solution. We need to use the language of America to point ourselves toward the greater fulfillment of human dignity in American society.
In other words, we need to use the well-intended foundations already set in our society and, with courage, build toward a society based on the truth of the Gospel. With this approach, we will be able to answer the challeng of a secular society "to reaffirm and to pursue more actively her [the Church's] mission in and to the world."
The pope's concluding remarks on this question summarize both the content of his message and the methods he proposes for bringing about renewal: "let me conclude, though, by saying that I believe that the Church in America, at this point in her history, is faced with the challenge of recapturing the Catholic vision of reality and presenting it, in an engaging and imaginative way, to a society which markets any number of recipes for human fulfillment."
We must reclaim and re-present our authentic faith, our view of reality, and do so in a way that is both engaging (by using the language of our culture so to enter into dialogue with it) and imaginative (in order to match the marketing techniques of a society which, as the pope noted, markets a variety of solutions to human needs...and as long as we're talking about marketing the faith, please allow me to point out the program Catholics Come Home, to which I was recently introduced, which was created by a Catholic with a marketing background).
None of us can do the work of the Church all on our own, but if we can work together with those who know the faith, can expound it intelligibly, can present it in the language and culture of the American people, and can market it to our country, we can make a serious difference for the better of the Church in the United States.
Pope Benedict XVI's answers to the other questions will be addressed in parts II and III of this article. Expect posts throughout the weekend.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Diversity of Gifts
On coming into the world, man is not equipped with everything he needs for developing his bodily and spiritual life. He needs others. Differences appear tied to age, physical abilities, intellectual or moral aptitudes, the benefits derived from social commerce, and the distribution of wealth. The ‘talents’ are not distributed equally.
These differences belong to God’s plan, who wills that each receive what he needs from others, and that those endowed with particular ‘talents’ share the benefits with those who need them. These differences encourage and often oblige persons to practice generosity, kindness, and sharing of goods; they foster the mutual enrichment of cultures:
“I distribute the virtues quite diversely; I do not give all of them to each person, but some to one, some to others…I shall give principally charity to one; justice to another; humility to this one, a living faith to that one…And so I have given many gifts and graces, both spiritual and temporal, with such diversity that I have not given everything to one single person, so that you may be constrained to practice charity towards one another…I have willed that one should need another and that all should be my ministers in distributing the graces and gifts they have received from me.”
-Catechism of the Catholic Church 1936-1937, St. Catherine of Siena, Dial. I, 7
I read this passage last night, especially the last paragraph, which comes from St. Catherine of Siena, and it struck me as something St. Therese would have said (those female doctors of the Church have got to stick together!). As many active Catholics know, St. Therese’s spirituality emphasized humanity’s place as God’s garden, each of us a different flower with distinct gifts and traits. Once perplexed by this fact, she recorded in her autobiography that Jesus explained that the variety contributed to the beauty of His garden.
Oftentimes, I feel ungifted. We all from time to time think, “well, God gave me no particular talents, no special abilities, no well-built physique, and I certainly have no money.” It’s not unusual that I feel as if, while God was handing out artistic skill, physical ability, spiritual advancement, or intelligence, I must have been off in some corner, spinning around in meaningless circles. I often envy the gifts of others, not in a way that makes me want to take away what they have, but in a way that maybe I could be the best at something…just one thing…or at least pretty good at everything. Among my friends (and without naming them), I know I have wanted these gifts I see in them: humility, tranquility, boldness, unapologetic charity, amicability, and the list goes on. Yet, at the same time, I know that my humble friend would not see in himself any trace of humility (thus proving his humility), my tranquil friend would tell me she hides it behind a bubbly personality, my bold friend would tell me she just doesn’t care what people think, my unapologetically charitable friend would tell me he’s probably concerned that he hurts too many feelings, and my amicable friend would probably tell me about the frustration or anger he feels towards some of those with whom he is so kind.
Is it a gift that we are often kept from seeing the good in ourselves or the gifts God has given us? I think so, but at the same time, there’s that nagging thought in the back of my head: what is my gift? What am I meant for? How can I share it with someone? How can I be somebody?
Ah, there’s the rub! Fr. John Corapi points out in one of his personal testimonies that he always just wanted to be somebody. We all cry out for identity, for meaning, and do we find it? Many do not. Do we know how to find it?
Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
-Matthew 10:39
Conventional wisdom tells us that we find ourselves in giving ourselves. In giving ourselves, or losing ourselves, we are acting most like ourselves, because we were made for love, and we are living out those very gifts which were given to us specifically to be our personal manifestations of love. Perhaps if we want to know what gifts we have been given, we should seek first to love, and we will find those ways in which we love best. Then, perhaps, we will be able at last to identify the gifts we have been given and the way God has given us to love, as well as to accept the gifts others give us in love, so that we can be well-round, wholly holy people.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
PS – As long as we’re talking about conventional wisdom, has anyone ever wondered: if conventional wisdom is the variety of wisdom passed on to us for generations, would that make contemporary wisdom convectional wisdom? Just a thought.
These differences belong to God’s plan, who wills that each receive what he needs from others, and that those endowed with particular ‘talents’ share the benefits with those who need them. These differences encourage and often oblige persons to practice generosity, kindness, and sharing of goods; they foster the mutual enrichment of cultures:
“I distribute the virtues quite diversely; I do not give all of them to each person, but some to one, some to others…I shall give principally charity to one; justice to another; humility to this one, a living faith to that one…And so I have given many gifts and graces, both spiritual and temporal, with such diversity that I have not given everything to one single person, so that you may be constrained to practice charity towards one another…I have willed that one should need another and that all should be my ministers in distributing the graces and gifts they have received from me.”
-Catechism of the Catholic Church 1936-1937, St. Catherine of Siena, Dial. I, 7
I read this passage last night, especially the last paragraph, which comes from St. Catherine of Siena, and it struck me as something St. Therese would have said (those female doctors of the Church have got to stick together!). As many active Catholics know, St. Therese’s spirituality emphasized humanity’s place as God’s garden, each of us a different flower with distinct gifts and traits. Once perplexed by this fact, she recorded in her autobiography that Jesus explained that the variety contributed to the beauty of His garden.
Oftentimes, I feel ungifted. We all from time to time think, “well, God gave me no particular talents, no special abilities, no well-built physique, and I certainly have no money.” It’s not unusual that I feel as if, while God was handing out artistic skill, physical ability, spiritual advancement, or intelligence, I must have been off in some corner, spinning around in meaningless circles. I often envy the gifts of others, not in a way that makes me want to take away what they have, but in a way that maybe I could be the best at something…just one thing…or at least pretty good at everything. Among my friends (and without naming them), I know I have wanted these gifts I see in them: humility, tranquility, boldness, unapologetic charity, amicability, and the list goes on. Yet, at the same time, I know that my humble friend would not see in himself any trace of humility (thus proving his humility), my tranquil friend would tell me she hides it behind a bubbly personality, my bold friend would tell me she just doesn’t care what people think, my unapologetically charitable friend would tell me he’s probably concerned that he hurts too many feelings, and my amicable friend would probably tell me about the frustration or anger he feels towards some of those with whom he is so kind.
Is it a gift that we are often kept from seeing the good in ourselves or the gifts God has given us? I think so, but at the same time, there’s that nagging thought in the back of my head: what is my gift? What am I meant for? How can I share it with someone? How can I be somebody?
Ah, there’s the rub! Fr. John Corapi points out in one of his personal testimonies that he always just wanted to be somebody. We all cry out for identity, for meaning, and do we find it? Many do not. Do we know how to find it?
Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
-Matthew 10:39
Conventional wisdom tells us that we find ourselves in giving ourselves. In giving ourselves, or losing ourselves, we are acting most like ourselves, because we were made for love, and we are living out those very gifts which were given to us specifically to be our personal manifestations of love. Perhaps if we want to know what gifts we have been given, we should seek first to love, and we will find those ways in which we love best. Then, perhaps, we will be able at last to identify the gifts we have been given and the way God has given us to love, as well as to accept the gifts others give us in love, so that we can be well-round, wholly holy people.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
PS – As long as we’re talking about conventional wisdom, has anyone ever wondered: if conventional wisdom is the variety of wisdom passed on to us for generations, would that make contemporary wisdom convectional wisdom? Just a thought.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Pres. Bush's Meeting With Pope Postponed
Washington, D.C. - The pope will be arriving on U.S. soil shortly, but President Bush has had to dash plans to meet the esteemed pontiff. "Shepherd One," the name of the pope's airliner, will be arriving at Andrews Air Force Base this afternoon to the applause of a host of diplomats, but the president will not be in attendance.
"I really wanted to meet his holiness," said President Bush, "but today is tax day, and with the Democrats in charge of Congress, together with their actions on the appropriations committee, there's just too much threat that I might get audited if I don't handle this asap."
The pope is scheduled to have dinner at the White House this evening. President Bush and his family will be on hand as the pontiff tastes perhaps his first bite of Texan barbeque.
Asked if he would send the First Lady, the president quipped, "no, of course not. We're filing married. I need her around to sign forms. If she doesn't, we won't get our rebate. That's $1200!"
Shepherd One will, however, be greeted by several soldiers and the joint chiefs, as well as anti-aircraft artillery. "You never can be too safe; if we screen little old white ladies at the airport, even the pope could threaten national security. The ACLU insisted that we be even-handed. As you know, they run this country."
The Department of Homeland Security declined to comment.
In case you can't tell, this article is a parody of this monumentous occasion. In reality, things are different.
"I really wanted to meet his holiness," said President Bush, "but today is tax day, and with the Democrats in charge of Congress, together with their actions on the appropriations committee, there's just too much threat that I might get audited if I don't handle this asap."
The pope is scheduled to have dinner at the White House this evening. President Bush and his family will be on hand as the pontiff tastes perhaps his first bite of Texan barbeque.
Asked if he would send the First Lady, the president quipped, "no, of course not. We're filing married. I need her around to sign forms. If she doesn't, we won't get our rebate. That's $1200!"
Shepherd One will, however, be greeted by several soldiers and the joint chiefs, as well as anti-aircraft artillery. "You never can be too safe; if we screen little old white ladies at the airport, even the pope could threaten national security. The ACLU insisted that we be even-handed. As you know, they run this country."
The Department of Homeland Security declined to comment.
In case you can't tell, this article is a parody of this monumentous occasion. In reality, things are different.
The Good Shepherd
One of the themes of yesterday’s Gospel struck a chord with me because it has been weighing on my heart for the last few weeks:
I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. –John 10:11-15 (NAB)
I am a hired man. I make a salary, however meager, for my work as a catechist. Since my wedding cost me all I had, Jen and I have been living paycheck to paycheck for several months. On Friday, though, we received our tax return, and so we’re finally starting to build up a little buffer zone to keep us out of the red.
Regardless, I have been nervous about finances. I consider all the work I put in, often with little visible results (the work of youth ministry is in planting seeds, not in reaping harvests), and I wonder if I could be more effective in some other position or career. I look at how much it costs to live and how little I make (despite what some of our parishioners think, we do not make upwards of $40k/year…personally, I make $24k, before taxes). I worry about my family living in an unsafe neighborhood (since becoming a husband and father, that has become priority number one), not having enough food, being uninsured, etc. I worry about a thousand things going wrong, day and night, and aside from the obvious fact that I need more trust in the Lord, I realize that I’m not a very good shepherd. Do I know my sheep? Not too well; it’s only my first year here, but I should know them better. Do they know me? Probably better than I know them, but the personal relationship is lacking. That’s okay. I was taught to expect that early in ministry. It takes time to grow. Still, I wonder...if the wolf comes along, will I protect the sheep, or will I run and let them be scattered?
I have to ask myself: what are my motives for having this job? Am I a catechist, a youth minister, because I enjoy working long hours and giving up family time over and over again in a never-ending cycle? No. Am I a catechist because of the wonderful, $650/month/family health benefits? Definitely not. Am I a catechist because I love the kids I serve? I’d like that to be it, and for sure, I enjoy having them as students (some more than others, but don’t tell them), but do I enjoy having them as disciples? Are they even my disciples?
I need to connect with my youth and make them disciples, and I need to be a better disciple to Christ myself. I need to make them my own sheep. I need to change my attitude so that my salary is more like a stipend, something I get to help me live while I do the work of evangelization. What is my primary motive with this occupation: is this a job or is this a ministry?
Certainly if I make the ministry more important than the job, I will find myself more content in my work and given a new zeal for souls.
God, make me a catechist after your own heart, a true shepherd to your sheep, willing to lay down my life for them.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep. –John 10:11-15 (NAB)
I am a hired man. I make a salary, however meager, for my work as a catechist. Since my wedding cost me all I had, Jen and I have been living paycheck to paycheck for several months. On Friday, though, we received our tax return, and so we’re finally starting to build up a little buffer zone to keep us out of the red.
Regardless, I have been nervous about finances. I consider all the work I put in, often with little visible results (the work of youth ministry is in planting seeds, not in reaping harvests), and I wonder if I could be more effective in some other position or career. I look at how much it costs to live and how little I make (despite what some of our parishioners think, we do not make upwards of $40k/year…personally, I make $24k, before taxes). I worry about my family living in an unsafe neighborhood (since becoming a husband and father, that has become priority number one), not having enough food, being uninsured, etc. I worry about a thousand things going wrong, day and night, and aside from the obvious fact that I need more trust in the Lord, I realize that I’m not a very good shepherd. Do I know my sheep? Not too well; it’s only my first year here, but I should know them better. Do they know me? Probably better than I know them, but the personal relationship is lacking. That’s okay. I was taught to expect that early in ministry. It takes time to grow. Still, I wonder...if the wolf comes along, will I protect the sheep, or will I run and let them be scattered?
I have to ask myself: what are my motives for having this job? Am I a catechist, a youth minister, because I enjoy working long hours and giving up family time over and over again in a never-ending cycle? No. Am I a catechist because of the wonderful, $650/month/family health benefits? Definitely not. Am I a catechist because I love the kids I serve? I’d like that to be it, and for sure, I enjoy having them as students (some more than others, but don’t tell them), but do I enjoy having them as disciples? Are they even my disciples?
I need to connect with my youth and make them disciples, and I need to be a better disciple to Christ myself. I need to make them my own sheep. I need to change my attitude so that my salary is more like a stipend, something I get to help me live while I do the work of evangelization. What is my primary motive with this occupation: is this a job or is this a ministry?
Certainly if I make the ministry more important than the job, I will find myself more content in my work and given a new zeal for souls.
God, make me a catechist after your own heart, a true shepherd to your sheep, willing to lay down my life for them.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Monday, April 14, 2008
Human Nature, Onions, and Labels
When I was in high school, I was a fan of structure, and indeed I still am. I love the organization of structure, especially social structure, but making a life for myself these last few years as also awakened in me an innate sense of my humanity, and the humanity of others, the fact that, despite structure, we're all essentially similar.
As a high schooler, I balked at those who would go around rejecting "labels." I didn't understand...if Susie was a cheerleader, then what was wrong with calling her one? If Chad was a football or track star, what was the problem with saying it? Now, more aware of what it means to be human, I understand the problem a little more: it's not in the traits, but in identifying oneself by the traits, where the problem lies.
A young person I know doesn't like the fact that I teach against homosexual activity in youth group. Despite the fact that I have made it clear that such traits do not mean that we should not love those who possess the traits, young people often take the Church's teachings on such matters as insulting. Why, I wonder?
To borrow a simile from Shreck, human beings (not just ogres) are like onions. I'm not referring just to college males, who often smell awful and make others cry, but to all human persons, and in a deeper way. Onions have layers, humans (not just ogres) have layers. At the core is the thing all human kind shares: human nature itself, and in that, God's fingerprint is made most manifest. The next outermost layer: male or female. Why? Because it is the next most commonly shared thing among all humans. Next, I would argue, comes religion (which is not to say that our faith is less important, but that it is a less common and less intrinsic value to our humanity...the need for religion, as well as gender in itself, is found in the central layer of human nature, but the specific mode, male or female, Catholic or anything else, is found in an outer layer...you get the picture). As we continue outward, we find traits that are less and less intrinsically common to human nature. We can conclude that we are at once common and individual. There are certain things which unite us with the rest of humanity in our nature, and yet those things are played out in different ways in each of us, distinctions. This is a key component in the philosophy of the human person considered by 20th century Judeo-Christian philosophers (this is all dealt with quite nicely in The Selfhood of the Human Person by Dr. John Crosby, my own philosophy professor from my alma mater).
Now, labels are meant to distinguish one person from another, and this is all perfectly fine. Naturally, if that is their purpose, they will be based on traits which form the outermost layer of the human onion, traits which are more distinct and individual, less intrinsic to the human person. Again, that's all perfectly fine.
The difficulty with the current generation of youth and young adults is that they use labels to point to their identity. Gone are the days of agere sequitur esse, the age old maxim that action follows being (or in other words, who or what you are determines what you do), a maxim deriving from ancient philosophy, which simply said that if a chicken is a chicken, it clucks, if a dog is a dog, it barks, etc. In regard to the human person, a human who is a doctor heals, a human who is a teacher teaches. Nowadays, however, these traits are being used as identification through labels and, as I pointed out already, these traits are the outermost factors, not intrinsic to the person. The outermost traits of a person are the things that can change: that layer of the onion which slowly shrivels up, cracks, and falls away, things like styles and tastes and activities. If a young person listens to punk rock, his peers call him a punk. If a young person dresses in all black, her peers call her a goth. These are labels based on changing things. What's the problem? The problem is that they identify the person based on what the person does. Instead of action following being, young people see being following action. You are what you do. This produces a two-fold problem: 1) young people do not see themselves so much on the level of human person as they do on the level of goth, punk, preppy, or any other label, and 2) these labels make young people identify themselves by these transitory things, making them often unable to move on. Which of my readers hasn't seen a 30-year-old cheerleader before? You know the type...can't leave the glory days of high school behind...has identified herself as a cheerleader, not a human person, since she was 15...
What's worse is that more intrinsic things, such as religion, are becoming more and more external traits. If we do things right, God should reside in our human nature and His life should flow through ours, filling all the layers of our onion with divine meaning. Those students who are Christian through-and-through are labeled as such because it is not only an internal reality in them, but an external sign. That's all good; we label the saints as Christians. The problem is that when sense of identity is based on what you do instead of who you are, then anyone who doesn't feel up to being a Christian can simply say, "Christianity just isn't what I do." The Christian argues back, "well of course it's not what you do, but it's what you should do because of who and what you are." To that, the well-labeled young adult simply replies, "I am what I do, and I don't do the Christianity thing."
Labels are not bad in themselves, but they have the ability to numb the heart to Christ and to the Gospel message. They also have the ability to give us mixed up ideas of who and what we are: a human person who engages in homosexual activity is labeled as gay, and bases his sense of identity on that. Sooner or later, when a Christian comes along and tries to convince him, even with the best reasoning, that the homosexual lifestyle is wrong, the person takes it as a personal insult, a jab at his identity, not at his actions. This is an extreme case used to make a point, but the truth of the matter is that many youth are afraid of conversion, fearing that allowing God in their lives will change what they do, and therefore confuse them even more about their identity. They take the idea of change as an insult, not as an opportunity to become what they were made to be.
What we need is an authentic understanding of human nature. We need to understand that human dignity is based on the call to communion with God (CCC 27) and that our actions should be based on that dignity, that identity as God's people whom He calls to Himself. Only with a better understanding of who and what we are can we convince ourselves to become who and what we were made to be.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
As a high schooler, I balked at those who would go around rejecting "labels." I didn't understand...if Susie was a cheerleader, then what was wrong with calling her one? If Chad was a football or track star, what was the problem with saying it? Now, more aware of what it means to be human, I understand the problem a little more: it's not in the traits, but in identifying oneself by the traits, where the problem lies.
A young person I know doesn't like the fact that I teach against homosexual activity in youth group. Despite the fact that I have made it clear that such traits do not mean that we should not love those who possess the traits, young people often take the Church's teachings on such matters as insulting. Why, I wonder?
To borrow a simile from Shreck, human beings (not just ogres) are like onions. I'm not referring just to college males, who often smell awful and make others cry, but to all human persons, and in a deeper way. Onions have layers, humans (not just ogres) have layers. At the core is the thing all human kind shares: human nature itself, and in that, God's fingerprint is made most manifest. The next outermost layer: male or female. Why? Because it is the next most commonly shared thing among all humans. Next, I would argue, comes religion (which is not to say that our faith is less important, but that it is a less common and less intrinsic value to our humanity...the need for religion, as well as gender in itself, is found in the central layer of human nature, but the specific mode, male or female, Catholic or anything else, is found in an outer layer...you get the picture). As we continue outward, we find traits that are less and less intrinsically common to human nature. We can conclude that we are at once common and individual. There are certain things which unite us with the rest of humanity in our nature, and yet those things are played out in different ways in each of us, distinctions. This is a key component in the philosophy of the human person considered by 20th century Judeo-Christian philosophers (this is all dealt with quite nicely in The Selfhood of the Human Person by Dr. John Crosby, my own philosophy professor from my alma mater).
Now, labels are meant to distinguish one person from another, and this is all perfectly fine. Naturally, if that is their purpose, they will be based on traits which form the outermost layer of the human onion, traits which are more distinct and individual, less intrinsic to the human person. Again, that's all perfectly fine.
The difficulty with the current generation of youth and young adults is that they use labels to point to their identity. Gone are the days of agere sequitur esse, the age old maxim that action follows being (or in other words, who or what you are determines what you do), a maxim deriving from ancient philosophy, which simply said that if a chicken is a chicken, it clucks, if a dog is a dog, it barks, etc. In regard to the human person, a human who is a doctor heals, a human who is a teacher teaches. Nowadays, however, these traits are being used as identification through labels and, as I pointed out already, these traits are the outermost factors, not intrinsic to the person. The outermost traits of a person are the things that can change: that layer of the onion which slowly shrivels up, cracks, and falls away, things like styles and tastes and activities. If a young person listens to punk rock, his peers call him a punk. If a young person dresses in all black, her peers call her a goth. These are labels based on changing things. What's the problem? The problem is that they identify the person based on what the person does. Instead of action following being, young people see being following action. You are what you do. This produces a two-fold problem: 1) young people do not see themselves so much on the level of human person as they do on the level of goth, punk, preppy, or any other label, and 2) these labels make young people identify themselves by these transitory things, making them often unable to move on. Which of my readers hasn't seen a 30-year-old cheerleader before? You know the type...can't leave the glory days of high school behind...has identified herself as a cheerleader, not a human person, since she was 15...
What's worse is that more intrinsic things, such as religion, are becoming more and more external traits. If we do things right, God should reside in our human nature and His life should flow through ours, filling all the layers of our onion with divine meaning. Those students who are Christian through-and-through are labeled as such because it is not only an internal reality in them, but an external sign. That's all good; we label the saints as Christians. The problem is that when sense of identity is based on what you do instead of who you are, then anyone who doesn't feel up to being a Christian can simply say, "Christianity just isn't what I do." The Christian argues back, "well of course it's not what you do, but it's what you should do because of who and what you are." To that, the well-labeled young adult simply replies, "I am what I do, and I don't do the Christianity thing."
Labels are not bad in themselves, but they have the ability to numb the heart to Christ and to the Gospel message. They also have the ability to give us mixed up ideas of who and what we are: a human person who engages in homosexual activity is labeled as gay, and bases his sense of identity on that. Sooner or later, when a Christian comes along and tries to convince him, even with the best reasoning, that the homosexual lifestyle is wrong, the person takes it as a personal insult, a jab at his identity, not at his actions. This is an extreme case used to make a point, but the truth of the matter is that many youth are afraid of conversion, fearing that allowing God in their lives will change what they do, and therefore confuse them even more about their identity. They take the idea of change as an insult, not as an opportunity to become what they were made to be.
What we need is an authentic understanding of human nature. We need to understand that human dignity is based on the call to communion with God (CCC 27) and that our actions should be based on that dignity, that identity as God's people whom He calls to Himself. Only with a better understanding of who and what we are can we convince ourselves to become who and what we were made to be.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Friday, April 11, 2008
Lay Christians, St. Benedict of Nursia, and the Renewal of Christian Society
Zenit recently reported the pope's comments on the Rule of St. Benedict and the restoration of Christian Europe. Part of the pope's commentary referenced the crushing blow to 20th century ideology in Europe brought about by societies once thought by their members to have been utopias (or utopias in the making), such as Nazi Germany or the USSR. This reminded me of a quote by G.K. Chesterton: "Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and not tried" and another quote (the origin of which is unknown to me) that post-Christian society is now like a divorcee, and having been wedded to Christ (although always to reluctant to have been truly committed), society is immune to the message of Christianity. The problem with Christianity isn't a problem with Christianity at all, but a problem with society.
Many opponents of Christianity, or organized religion in general, claim that it is too complicated. The truth is that it is actually quite simple, but that the many complications of our lives end up requiring more complex religious structures than would otherwise be necessary. Take, for instance, the greatest commandments: Love God and love neighbor. These are not complex, but our relationships with God and our fellow men often are, and so we try all too often to make exceptions for the two simple commandments, just as the self-righteous pharisee did (Luke 10:25-29). The question "who is my neighbor?" has many brethren: "does God really want me to go to Mass or does He just want my worship?"..."what is 'the Lord's name' that I should not take in vain?"..."does the commandment not to murder include those who murdered others?"..."is being faithful to my wife part of loving her as my neighbor"...and the ever-popular question not only of Pontius Pilate, but of today's generation: "what is truth?" Because we wish to make exceptions, to justify ourselves, or to serve two masters without being totally committed to the Lord, the Lord has to direct us against each and every personal variation of the two divine commandments. Suddenly, by specifically addressing our complex sins, ten commandments are expounded instead of two, and as we begin to split those ten into many hairs, God must address each attempt of ours. I suspect that this is why more and more commandments were given as Israel fell again and again into sin, and some sins were even allowed passively when they could not be prevented, until God began through the prophets to reveal once again the central meaning of all the laws, and through Jesus Christ to point out love as the foundation of the Law.
If love is the foundation of divine law, surely it is also the foundation of natural law. Yet as society has abandoned divine law, and even natural law, it has replaced love with lust, and we all know the astonishing results.
A new law is needed. The Rule of St. Benedict, together with other religious rules, is a law based on love. It is a guide for society in general, and by using the principles which once guided the development of Christian Europe, we can renew and redevelop Christian society in the West, based on authentic love of God and man. Most (if not all) religious rules prominently features poverty, chastity, and obedience (if enough people request it, I will follow up this post in the near future with an exegesis of these three evangelical virtues). Basing law on the religious rules, poverty, chastity, and obedience could greatly assist the renewal of Christian society by simplifying the human condition, the complexity of which so often contributes to a society's apathy about God.
The job of those wishing to renew Christian society, in my opinion, is to show the world what true Christianity looks like. By showing the world that they are not truly divorcees because they never truly wedded Christ (a consequence of never truly knowing Him), Christians can open the world to reconsider Christ and His Gospel from a fresh viewpoint. Then, finally, in answer to Chesterton, we might actually try Christianity and find it not lacking, but greatly enriching.
Of course, the Second Vatican Council calls on lay Christians to live within society and act as leaven for the world, but I see no reason to believe that we cannot be leaven together. Can lay Catholics form in communities within larger communities? It seems that in most modern cities in the United States, when a part of town is advancing and developing well, people flock to those neighborhoods. Certainly an authentically lived Christianity would be a wonderful and attractive neighborhood and may slowly attract those who are less fervent Christians so that the Gospel begins to spread. In the feudal age, this was done when a community centered around the estate of a lord and the church he built for the town. While I won't advance a feudal economic system, I think it is a wonderful idea to build new communities (within a larger community) centered around a church, pump it full of faithful Catholics, and work hard to make it grow until it evangelizes the culture.
When I attended seminary, I was educated at a monastery in a very, very small town. The neighbors would gather at the basilica church for Mass and were often very involved in the lives of the monks, and having their Christian identities at the center of their lives, I believe it would have been a great evangelization tool, if not for one problem: it was extremely rural. There was no one around to evangelize. On the other side of the spectrum is have Ave Maria, Florida, a whole Catholic town, and considerably larger than my old seminary town, but from what I've gathered in conversation with others, it's perceived as a bit separatist. An authentic Christian community cannot try to put up boundaries keeping others out.
While consider the idea of creating authentic Christian communities as evangelization tools, Focolare interested me. Focolare as an organization was praised recently by Pope Benedict XVI after the foundress died. I haven't been able to figure it all out yet, but it would appear to me that they did something similar to what I'm proposing.
Another practical problem an economic system. Because of federal laws protecting certain "rights" of those opposed to Christianity, there are tricky dealings in trying to create a community as I have proposed, as is demonstrated by Wikipedia's article on Ave Maria, FL (see the "Controversies" section). I'm not sure how to get around this, except to use what was once a tactic of greedy men: in many parts of Appalachia in the early 20th century, steel and coal mining companies would employ immigrants and pay them not with money, but with notes that could only be used at the company store. Housing would be provided by the company in exchange for work, as would the payment of these notes. Since such a system would take issues such as rent out of the equation, fair rent policy laws would be ineffective in fighting the communities.
Anyway, I'm not a lawyer, so I can't figure out all these details, but I do find the idea interesting and I wonder what the world would be like if we could pull this off. Thoughts?
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Many opponents of Christianity, or organized religion in general, claim that it is too complicated. The truth is that it is actually quite simple, but that the many complications of our lives end up requiring more complex religious structures than would otherwise be necessary. Take, for instance, the greatest commandments: Love God and love neighbor. These are not complex, but our relationships with God and our fellow men often are, and so we try all too often to make exceptions for the two simple commandments, just as the self-righteous pharisee did (Luke 10:25-29). The question "who is my neighbor?" has many brethren: "does God really want me to go to Mass or does He just want my worship?"..."what is 'the Lord's name' that I should not take in vain?"..."does the commandment not to murder include those who murdered others?"..."is being faithful to my wife part of loving her as my neighbor"...and the ever-popular question not only of Pontius Pilate, but of today's generation: "what is truth?" Because we wish to make exceptions, to justify ourselves, or to serve two masters without being totally committed to the Lord, the Lord has to direct us against each and every personal variation of the two divine commandments. Suddenly, by specifically addressing our complex sins, ten commandments are expounded instead of two, and as we begin to split those ten into many hairs, God must address each attempt of ours. I suspect that this is why more and more commandments were given as Israel fell again and again into sin, and some sins were even allowed passively when they could not be prevented, until God began through the prophets to reveal once again the central meaning of all the laws, and through Jesus Christ to point out love as the foundation of the Law.
If love is the foundation of divine law, surely it is also the foundation of natural law. Yet as society has abandoned divine law, and even natural law, it has replaced love with lust, and we all know the astonishing results.
A new law is needed. The Rule of St. Benedict, together with other religious rules, is a law based on love. It is a guide for society in general, and by using the principles which once guided the development of Christian Europe, we can renew and redevelop Christian society in the West, based on authentic love of God and man. Most (if not all) religious rules prominently features poverty, chastity, and obedience (if enough people request it, I will follow up this post in the near future with an exegesis of these three evangelical virtues). Basing law on the religious rules, poverty, chastity, and obedience could greatly assist the renewal of Christian society by simplifying the human condition, the complexity of which so often contributes to a society's apathy about God.
The job of those wishing to renew Christian society, in my opinion, is to show the world what true Christianity looks like. By showing the world that they are not truly divorcees because they never truly wedded Christ (a consequence of never truly knowing Him), Christians can open the world to reconsider Christ and His Gospel from a fresh viewpoint. Then, finally, in answer to Chesterton, we might actually try Christianity and find it not lacking, but greatly enriching.
Of course, the Second Vatican Council calls on lay Christians to live within society and act as leaven for the world, but I see no reason to believe that we cannot be leaven together. Can lay Catholics form in communities within larger communities? It seems that in most modern cities in the United States, when a part of town is advancing and developing well, people flock to those neighborhoods. Certainly an authentically lived Christianity would be a wonderful and attractive neighborhood and may slowly attract those who are less fervent Christians so that the Gospel begins to spread. In the feudal age, this was done when a community centered around the estate of a lord and the church he built for the town. While I won't advance a feudal economic system, I think it is a wonderful idea to build new communities (within a larger community) centered around a church, pump it full of faithful Catholics, and work hard to make it grow until it evangelizes the culture.
When I attended seminary, I was educated at a monastery in a very, very small town. The neighbors would gather at the basilica church for Mass and were often very involved in the lives of the monks, and having their Christian identities at the center of their lives, I believe it would have been a great evangelization tool, if not for one problem: it was extremely rural. There was no one around to evangelize. On the other side of the spectrum is have Ave Maria, Florida, a whole Catholic town, and considerably larger than my old seminary town, but from what I've gathered in conversation with others, it's perceived as a bit separatist. An authentic Christian community cannot try to put up boundaries keeping others out.
While consider the idea of creating authentic Christian communities as evangelization tools, Focolare interested me. Focolare as an organization was praised recently by Pope Benedict XVI after the foundress died. I haven't been able to figure it all out yet, but it would appear to me that they did something similar to what I'm proposing.
Another practical problem an economic system. Because of federal laws protecting certain "rights" of those opposed to Christianity, there are tricky dealings in trying to create a community as I have proposed, as is demonstrated by Wikipedia's article on Ave Maria, FL (see the "Controversies" section). I'm not sure how to get around this, except to use what was once a tactic of greedy men: in many parts of Appalachia in the early 20th century, steel and coal mining companies would employ immigrants and pay them not with money, but with notes that could only be used at the company store. Housing would be provided by the company in exchange for work, as would the payment of these notes. Since such a system would take issues such as rent out of the equation, fair rent policy laws would be ineffective in fighting the communities.
Anyway, I'm not a lawyer, so I can't figure out all these details, but I do find the idea interesting and I wonder what the world would be like if we could pull this off. Thoughts?
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
The Gifts and Fruits of the Holy Spirit
Ladies and gentlemen,
I am currently going without internet at home and yesterday was on a staff meeting at a lake far from civilization, so it has been a few days since my last update. I apologize.
Before I begin, I wish to say that this is not intended as a catechesis on the Gifts and Fruits of the Holy Spirit and none of it is authoritative (except, of course, the direct quotes from Scripture and the Catechism of the Catholic Church). It is merely my own reflection on reading a couple articles of the Catechism.
The other day, I was reading the Catechism and came upon an interesting passage I hadn't really noticed before. It is interesting how aspects of our Catholic faith we thought we knew can jump out at us in ever-greater depths. I digress. The passage (CCC 1831-1832) that caught my attention follows:
The seven gifts of the Holy Spirit are wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. They belong in their fullness to Christ, Son of David. They complete and perfect the virtues of those who receive them. They make the faithful docile in readily obeying divine inspirations.
The fruits of the Spirit are perfections that the Holy Spirit forms in us as the first fruits of eternal glory. The tradition of the Church lists twelve of them: "charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, chastity."
On the one hand, we have the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. They were perfectly possessed and lived-out by Jesus Christ, who Himself lived and breathed the Holy Spirit. These gifts make us docile - teachable - and open to listening to God. On the other hand, we have the fruits of the Spirit, which of course were also perfectly present in Christ. These are the marks of perfection, and as such, we should strive for them.
What is docility and how do the seven gifts make us docile? Docility is being open to instruction, in this case, being open to the inspiration of God and acting on it. One immediately thinks of any number of holy men and women who fit this description: Anna (Luke 2:36-38), Peter (Matthew 16:17), Philip (Acts 8:26-40), and, of course, St. Francis. The seven gifts give us this ability by training us in the ability to discern with the mind of God. The seven gifts correlate to seven dimensions of good faith and moral living: encountering God, knowing God, discerning the value of God and His teachings, understanding God and His teachings, judging God and His teachings (that is, assenting to them as true, beautiful, and good), living for God, and becoming holy for God.
Fear of the Lord, also called wonder and awe, as the beginning of wisdom (Psalm 111:10), is necessary for the other gifts to take full effect; it is the proper response to an encounter with God. Knowledge is perhaps the most basic, giving us the data we need in order to exercise many of the other gifts of the Holy Spirit.Wisdom allows us to value those things which are truly worth valuing, rather than the passing things. Understanding allows us to perceive what might otherwise go unnoticed, in order to reach a better conclusion, either about what is truth or how we should act in light of it. Counsel, also known in many circles as right judgment, is the ability to make the correct choice between different options (or to advise someone else to do so). If wisdom discerns values of objects and actions, and understanding helps us to know better the aspects involved in those objects and actions, it is counsel which helps us judge accordingly. Fortitude helps us to make such judgments (which are always in favor of what is true, beautiful, and good) without fear, or in spite of fear, of reprisal or punishment, allowing us to live for God out of love (1 John 4:18). Piety internalizes the encounter with God (Fear of the Lord), and through the practice of intellectual assent to the faith and right living (through Wisdom, Understanding, and Counsel), which are based on what we know come to know about God (Knowledge), and are lived out in love (Fortitude), allows us to grow in sanctity and holiness through religious devotion.
The Gifts of the Holy Spirit, having been accepted and lived out, bear fruit. The twelve fruits of the Holy Spirit are those perfections of Christian virtue reflected especially in Christ, but also in the lives of the saints. While they certainly possessed them in different quantities and rations, and practiced them in different ways, there was never any saint who did not have all the fruits of the Holy Spirit. If you can imagine the passage to heaven as an arch, there would be twelve stones making it up: charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, and chastity. Charity, the first virtue, would be the keystone. Without charity, the whole structure would crumble. Charity, love of God and neighbor, is the entire rationale for joy (love makes us joyful), peace (the joy from security of a love-relationship with God gives us peace in our spirits), patience (being at peace with God allows us to be patient; impatience disturbs peace, but true peace will not allow impatience to enter), kindness (patience allows us to be kind to all, even those who would otherwise make us impatient), goodness (being kind toward all makes us love as the father loves, and therefore perfect us in goodness, see Matthew 5:43-48), generosity (being truly good as God is good frees up our attachments because we realize that only God is truly valuable, and so we become more generous to our fellow man), gentleness (generosity becomes perfect and we become willing to give up even ourselves; the perfection of gentleness is not striking, even when struck), faithfulness (when our gentleness makes us willing to be struck for love of God, our faithfulness brings us through red or white martyrdom and we become faithful witnesses), modesty (dying to self in the martyrdom of faithfulness, we become truly modest and humble), self-control (modesty allows a person to order one's life always toward God), and chastity (chastity coming from a Latin word for pure, chastity is when self-control directs one's whole life toward God, so that one is no longer attached to anything apart from God's will).
Let's take a look at these gifts in the life of St. Francis, simply because we know more about his life than the life of any of the others I listed. Did St. Francis have charity? Who could deny that he did? St. Francis loved God and sought out anyone who would hear his message of love. Why else would he be known (incorrectly) as a middle-age hippie? His joy, peace, and patience kept him going despite difficulty, joy especially helping him when he begged Brother Fire not to harm him too much during a typical medieval cataract surgery (a flaming-hot poker was poked into the eye). His kindness, goodness, and generosity compelled him to seek out beggars on whom he could bestow brotherly affections, ointments, and alms. His gentleness and faithfulness gave him the convictions and strength he needed to call his friars to greater holiness; his calls for repentance were always faithful, often challenging, but always gentle, as he would point to himself as an example of the very problems that needed to be corrected. As for modesty, self-control, and chastity, he loved Lady Poverty, and no other lady held his heart; he mastered his desires as a man and fasted and prayed frequently, noting that even he was not safe from temptation until he was in the grave. For those who are not familiar with these stories of St. Francis, I recommend G. K. Chesterton's Saint Francis of Assisi, as well as the Letters of St. Francis. I assure you that you will find the gifts and the fruits of the Holy Spirit well demonstrated therein.
Personally, I find that I need to ask the Holy Spirit to renew in me the full strength of His gifts and bring them to fruition. It is my hope that this post convinces you also of that need in each individual and in our entire society.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
I am currently going without internet at home and yesterday was on a staff meeting at a lake far from civilization, so it has been a few days since my last update. I apologize.
Before I begin, I wish to say that this is not intended as a catechesis on the Gifts and Fruits of the Holy Spirit and none of it is authoritative (except, of course, the direct quotes from Scripture and the Catechism of the Catholic Church). It is merely my own reflection on reading a couple articles of the Catechism.
The other day, I was reading the Catechism and came upon an interesting passage I hadn't really noticed before. It is interesting how aspects of our Catholic faith we thought we knew can jump out at us in ever-greater depths. I digress. The passage (CCC 1831-1832) that caught my attention follows:
The seven gifts of the Holy Spirit are wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. They belong in their fullness to Christ, Son of David. They complete and perfect the virtues of those who receive them. They make the faithful docile in readily obeying divine inspirations.
The fruits of the Spirit are perfections that the Holy Spirit forms in us as the first fruits of eternal glory. The tradition of the Church lists twelve of them: "charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, chastity."
On the one hand, we have the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. They were perfectly possessed and lived-out by Jesus Christ, who Himself lived and breathed the Holy Spirit. These gifts make us docile - teachable - and open to listening to God. On the other hand, we have the fruits of the Spirit, which of course were also perfectly present in Christ. These are the marks of perfection, and as such, we should strive for them.
What is docility and how do the seven gifts make us docile? Docility is being open to instruction, in this case, being open to the inspiration of God and acting on it. One immediately thinks of any number of holy men and women who fit this description: Anna (Luke 2:36-38), Peter (Matthew 16:17), Philip (Acts 8:26-40), and, of course, St. Francis. The seven gifts give us this ability by training us in the ability to discern with the mind of God. The seven gifts correlate to seven dimensions of good faith and moral living: encountering God, knowing God, discerning the value of God and His teachings, understanding God and His teachings, judging God and His teachings (that is, assenting to them as true, beautiful, and good), living for God, and becoming holy for God.
Fear of the Lord, also called wonder and awe, as the beginning of wisdom (Psalm 111:10), is necessary for the other gifts to take full effect; it is the proper response to an encounter with God. Knowledge is perhaps the most basic, giving us the data we need in order to exercise many of the other gifts of the Holy Spirit.Wisdom allows us to value those things which are truly worth valuing, rather than the passing things. Understanding allows us to perceive what might otherwise go unnoticed, in order to reach a better conclusion, either about what is truth or how we should act in light of it. Counsel, also known in many circles as right judgment, is the ability to make the correct choice between different options (or to advise someone else to do so). If wisdom discerns values of objects and actions, and understanding helps us to know better the aspects involved in those objects and actions, it is counsel which helps us judge accordingly. Fortitude helps us to make such judgments (which are always in favor of what is true, beautiful, and good) without fear, or in spite of fear, of reprisal or punishment, allowing us to live for God out of love (1 John 4:18). Piety internalizes the encounter with God (Fear of the Lord), and through the practice of intellectual assent to the faith and right living (through Wisdom, Understanding, and Counsel), which are based on what we know come to know about God (Knowledge), and are lived out in love (Fortitude), allows us to grow in sanctity and holiness through religious devotion.
The Gifts of the Holy Spirit, having been accepted and lived out, bear fruit. The twelve fruits of the Holy Spirit are those perfections of Christian virtue reflected especially in Christ, but also in the lives of the saints. While they certainly possessed them in different quantities and rations, and practiced them in different ways, there was never any saint who did not have all the fruits of the Holy Spirit. If you can imagine the passage to heaven as an arch, there would be twelve stones making it up: charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, and chastity. Charity, the first virtue, would be the keystone. Without charity, the whole structure would crumble. Charity, love of God and neighbor, is the entire rationale for joy (love makes us joyful), peace (the joy from security of a love-relationship with God gives us peace in our spirits), patience (being at peace with God allows us to be patient; impatience disturbs peace, but true peace will not allow impatience to enter), kindness (patience allows us to be kind to all, even those who would otherwise make us impatient), goodness (being kind toward all makes us love as the father loves, and therefore perfect us in goodness, see Matthew 5:43-48), generosity (being truly good as God is good frees up our attachments because we realize that only God is truly valuable, and so we become more generous to our fellow man), gentleness (generosity becomes perfect and we become willing to give up even ourselves; the perfection of gentleness is not striking, even when struck), faithfulness (when our gentleness makes us willing to be struck for love of God, our faithfulness brings us through red or white martyrdom and we become faithful witnesses), modesty (dying to self in the martyrdom of faithfulness, we become truly modest and humble), self-control (modesty allows a person to order one's life always toward God), and chastity (chastity coming from a Latin word for pure, chastity is when self-control directs one's whole life toward God, so that one is no longer attached to anything apart from God's will).
Let's take a look at these gifts in the life of St. Francis, simply because we know more about his life than the life of any of the others I listed. Did St. Francis have charity? Who could deny that he did? St. Francis loved God and sought out anyone who would hear his message of love. Why else would he be known (incorrectly) as a middle-age hippie? His joy, peace, and patience kept him going despite difficulty, joy especially helping him when he begged Brother Fire not to harm him too much during a typical medieval cataract surgery (a flaming-hot poker was poked into the eye). His kindness, goodness, and generosity compelled him to seek out beggars on whom he could bestow brotherly affections, ointments, and alms. His gentleness and faithfulness gave him the convictions and strength he needed to call his friars to greater holiness; his calls for repentance were always faithful, often challenging, but always gentle, as he would point to himself as an example of the very problems that needed to be corrected. As for modesty, self-control, and chastity, he loved Lady Poverty, and no other lady held his heart; he mastered his desires as a man and fasted and prayed frequently, noting that even he was not safe from temptation until he was in the grave. For those who are not familiar with these stories of St. Francis, I recommend G. K. Chesterton's Saint Francis of Assisi, as well as the Letters of St. Francis. I assure you that you will find the gifts and the fruits of the Holy Spirit well demonstrated therein.
Personally, I find that I need to ask the Holy Spirit to renew in me the full strength of His gifts and bring them to fruition. It is my hope that this post convinces you also of that need in each individual and in our entire society.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Biography
I figure the biography features built into these templates are a bit weak on the information side, so I'd like to give a little more information on myself.
I'm a native of Omaha, Nebraska, born and raised there, went to Catholic schools K-8 and then a public high school. I entered the seminary my freshman year of college, studying for the Archdiocese of Omaha. I left when I felt called to marriage, moved to Lincoln to attend the University of Nebraska, and immediately got involved with the Newman Center on campus, as well as the Fellowship of Catholic University Students, of which I am very fond. Sadly, we do not have them in this state. I hope they will be invited soon. Though very fond of my time at UNL, I felt a call to work for the Church, something I could not easily have done with a secular degree.
I transferred to the Franciscan University of Steubenville, Ohio, along with a friend I had made at UNL. We became roommates and even better friends; I'm proud to call him my best guy friend (my wife being my best friend overall). While at FUS, I met a lovely young lady, whom I had already known (and had a pen-pal relationship with online) through Phatmass (Preaching Holy Apostolic Truth + Mass), and we went out, and eventually got engaged. I graduated with my BA in Theology and Catechetics (with a minor in Latin...after 7 years of studying Latin...and a year of Greek...you just can't go without getting at least a minor). Jennie had another semester, so I moved to Shreveport (where she is originally from) to take a job as a youth minister. Then she moved back home after getting her degree in Theology.
We got married on December 28, 2007, and found out on February 24, 2008 that we were pregnant.
My long-term hopes and dreams are to be a great husband and father and to do what God has planned for me. If I had my pick, which may or may not be His will, it would be in a more formal environment, perhaps a high school theology position or adult faith formation. Jen's long term hopes and dreams, aside from being a mother, include someday becoming a college theology professor.
That pretty much brings us to where we are now. How's that?
Some basic facts and trivia:
Name: Micah Murphy
Age: 23
Eyes: Dark Green
Hair: Medium Brown
Employment: I've been a babysitter, a landscaper, a bakery associate, a library guard (volunteer), a seminarian (something of a job - I had a stipend), a forum moderator, a forum administrator, a custodian, a coordinator's assistant for the St. John Bosco Catechetical Conferences, and a youth minister.
Weird Foods I've eaten: shark, bison, ostrich, squid, and alligator.
Favorite Book of the Bible: St. John's Gospel, followed by St. John's Letters, followed by...hmmm...Genesis, Judges, 1 & 2 Samuel, Ruth (as one of my professors said, it reads like a modern romantic comedy) and Tobit.
Pet Peeves: Watering-down the faith, blatent liturgical abuse, people poking me, swearing, split infinitives, subject-verb disagreement (a HUGE grammatical error in Louisiana), politicians who separate faith from life.
I'm a native of Omaha, Nebraska, born and raised there, went to Catholic schools K-8 and then a public high school. I entered the seminary my freshman year of college, studying for the Archdiocese of Omaha. I left when I felt called to marriage, moved to Lincoln to attend the University of Nebraska, and immediately got involved with the Newman Center on campus, as well as the Fellowship of Catholic University Students, of which I am very fond. Sadly, we do not have them in this state. I hope they will be invited soon. Though very fond of my time at UNL, I felt a call to work for the Church, something I could not easily have done with a secular degree.
I transferred to the Franciscan University of Steubenville, Ohio, along with a friend I had made at UNL. We became roommates and even better friends; I'm proud to call him my best guy friend (my wife being my best friend overall). While at FUS, I met a lovely young lady, whom I had already known (and had a pen-pal relationship with online) through Phatmass (Preaching Holy Apostolic Truth + Mass), and we went out, and eventually got engaged. I graduated with my BA in Theology and Catechetics (with a minor in Latin...after 7 years of studying Latin...and a year of Greek...you just can't go without getting at least a minor). Jennie had another semester, so I moved to Shreveport (where she is originally from) to take a job as a youth minister. Then she moved back home after getting her degree in Theology.
We got married on December 28, 2007, and found out on February 24, 2008 that we were pregnant.
My long-term hopes and dreams are to be a great husband and father and to do what God has planned for me. If I had my pick, which may or may not be His will, it would be in a more formal environment, perhaps a high school theology position or adult faith formation. Jen's long term hopes and dreams, aside from being a mother, include someday becoming a college theology professor.
That pretty much brings us to where we are now. How's that?
Some basic facts and trivia:
Name: Micah Murphy
Age: 23
Eyes: Dark Green
Hair: Medium Brown
Employment: I've been a babysitter, a landscaper, a bakery associate, a library guard (volunteer), a seminarian (something of a job - I had a stipend), a forum moderator, a forum administrator, a custodian, a coordinator's assistant for the St. John Bosco Catechetical Conferences, and a youth minister.
Weird Foods I've eaten: shark, bison, ostrich, squid, and alligator.
Favorite Book of the Bible: St. John's Gospel, followed by St. John's Letters, followed by...hmmm...Genesis, Judges, 1 & 2 Samuel, Ruth (as one of my professors said, it reads like a modern romantic comedy) and Tobit.
Pet Peeves: Watering-down the faith, blatent liturgical abuse, people poking me, swearing, split infinitives, subject-verb disagreement (a HUGE grammatical error in Louisiana), politicians who separate faith from life.
Monday, April 7, 2008
If Our Lady had an Ultrasound
This morning, Jennie and I went to the doctor's office to get her first ultrasound. From what I could see in her face, it wasn't the most comfortable thing. We'll bypass the obvious objection of Mary's virginal integrity (some ultrasounds are vaginal, which would not befit our Lady) and ask the question of a later-term ultrasound (done through the abdominal wall): what if Our Lady had received an ultrasound?
I think there is something absolutely amazing about ultrasound technology. Our baby was quite still until something apparently spooked him or her, and limbs started moving everywhere, almost as part of a little dance, and then the baby stopped again and settled down once more. Still more incredible was the heartbeat (apparently a healthy 167 beats per minute, well beyond the rate of an adult human). The baby appears to have a basic human shape, although part of me wants to ridicule him/her for the enlarged cerebral cortex that makes up the bulk of the child's current mass. All joking aside, even a little white colored, kidney bean shaped little image of a child is capable of inspiring great love in a father's heart.
I imagine that Mary was already in deep contemplation of Our Lord in her womb, and perhaps the ultrasound would not have done too much for her, but for St. Joseph, this could have been nothing less than a beautiful call to greater holiness and devotion in his fatherhood, as I feel called now while reflecting on this morning's events. If Mary had had an ultrasound, I have no doubt it would have led to greater devotion and love, which is what such technology should be used for, rather than what the atrocities it is sometimes used for today. Imagine seeing the King of Kings and Lord of Lords on an ultrasound in the womb of Mary. Think about it: you would be witnessing a human body infused with a human soul, created by the Divine Person who has taken on that flesh, given life by the Spirit that overshadows the Blessed Virgin. Consider seeing the Incarnation at its early stages, seeing the vibrancy of life in those days that Mary dwelt with Elizabeth. If St. John the Baptist could tell that his Lord was before him without seeing Him, how much more would we be able to see Our Lord before us in the womb of Mary, and how many of us would recognize Him? God, desiring to be entirely human, enters the world through a means both miraculous and mundane, and honors fetal development as a part of His life.
It is an awesome gift to be able to witness this gift of life, blessed by Christ Himself, in the womb of my wife.
Jennie and I have almost decided to opt for the new 3-D ultrasound at a later date. It will be some $200 out-of-pocket, but well worth the cost of seeing our child as God is developing him or her, an opportunity to see human life even as God is still forming it in the womb.
Ultrasounds are an immense blessing to fatherhood, and to parenthood in general. They allow us to bond with our children more completely before birth, and perhaps provide us with more time to prepare for the wonderful gift of life. I can tell you one thing: this child is not a clump of cells, but a living, vibrant being, calling on the Lord's Name even from the womb, and rejoicing in an unspoken language the praises of God, the Creator of all life.
Now, for those of you who are curious:
Aaron Michael or Mary Catherine Murphy
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
I think there is something absolutely amazing about ultrasound technology. Our baby was quite still until something apparently spooked him or her, and limbs started moving everywhere, almost as part of a little dance, and then the baby stopped again and settled down once more. Still more incredible was the heartbeat (apparently a healthy 167 beats per minute, well beyond the rate of an adult human). The baby appears to have a basic human shape, although part of me wants to ridicule him/her for the enlarged cerebral cortex that makes up the bulk of the child's current mass. All joking aside, even a little white colored, kidney bean shaped little image of a child is capable of inspiring great love in a father's heart.
I imagine that Mary was already in deep contemplation of Our Lord in her womb, and perhaps the ultrasound would not have done too much for her, but for St. Joseph, this could have been nothing less than a beautiful call to greater holiness and devotion in his fatherhood, as I feel called now while reflecting on this morning's events. If Mary had had an ultrasound, I have no doubt it would have led to greater devotion and love, which is what such technology should be used for, rather than what the atrocities it is sometimes used for today. Imagine seeing the King of Kings and Lord of Lords on an ultrasound in the womb of Mary. Think about it: you would be witnessing a human body infused with a human soul, created by the Divine Person who has taken on that flesh, given life by the Spirit that overshadows the Blessed Virgin. Consider seeing the Incarnation at its early stages, seeing the vibrancy of life in those days that Mary dwelt with Elizabeth. If St. John the Baptist could tell that his Lord was before him without seeing Him, how much more would we be able to see Our Lord before us in the womb of Mary, and how many of us would recognize Him? God, desiring to be entirely human, enters the world through a means both miraculous and mundane, and honors fetal development as a part of His life.
It is an awesome gift to be able to witness this gift of life, blessed by Christ Himself, in the womb of my wife.
Jennie and I have almost decided to opt for the new 3-D ultrasound at a later date. It will be some $200 out-of-pocket, but well worth the cost of seeing our child as God is developing him or her, an opportunity to see human life even as God is still forming it in the womb.
Ultrasounds are an immense blessing to fatherhood, and to parenthood in general. They allow us to bond with our children more completely before birth, and perhaps provide us with more time to prepare for the wonderful gift of life. I can tell you one thing: this child is not a clump of cells, but a living, vibrant being, calling on the Lord's Name even from the womb, and rejoicing in an unspoken language the praises of God, the Creator of all life.
Now, for those of you who are curious:
Aaron Michael or Mary Catherine Murphy
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Revolution of Virtue
Zenit is reporting that Pope Benedict XVI is working toward a "Revolution of Virtue," through his encyclicals Deus Caritas Est and Spe Salvi, and will be continuing to spread this revolution during his visit to the United States.
Although this task is not without its precedent in the pontificate of John Paul the Great, the encyclicals of Pope Benedict seem to deal directly and deliberately with two of the three theological virtues. Assuming that he does in fact write a follow-up encyclical on faith, we will have three documents which give specific direction for a renewal of virtue which will spark cultural revolution.
So what's the point? Anyone can notice that we lack faith, hope, and love (charity) in our modern world? Instead of the theological virtues, we have secular replacements (a part of the devil's plan, no doubt). Certainly we believe things, but we only believe those things which can be measured and proven empirically...or, somewhat ironically, those things which, regardless of being without any proof, we wish to believe (I think the common trend here is that we believe what is easy to believe, whether by proof or by bias). We also place a value on secular rewards, the hopes and dreams of this present life. As for love, we replace it with lust, and our charity consists of Oprah's Big Give. Western civilization has been falling to a lazy form of virtue.
The word virtue comes from the Latin virtus, meaning manhood. The problem is that over the last century or so, our idea of manhood has changed into what can iconographically be described as Homer Simpson. The media tells us that men are overweight, unthinking carnivores who lack self-control and have only one thing on their minds (and we all know what that is). We, as Catholic men, should take this revolution of virtue in a special direction. What better vision, what better icon could there be for our role-model than St. Joseph? Just and merciful, humble and regal, obedient and responsible, St. Joseph embodies authentic manhood more than any other saint. There is no other man God would have chosen to be the foster father of His Son.
So, my question to you is this: in what specific ways does St. Joseph practice faith, hope, and love? What can we learn from him as a model of true masculine virtue?
As an aside, the first chapter of a new book I've been reading recently, The Catechism of the Catholic Church and the Craft of Catechesis (written in part by Barbara Morgan, founder of the catechetics program at Franciscan University of Steubenville, the flagship of American catechetical institutions today), discusses the charge given to Alcuin by the Holy Roman Emperor Charlemagne to produce a way of infusing society with Christianity. I believe that this book is a timely commentary on the needs of catechesis, which are ever more relevant in the context of our post-Christian society. Perhaps the methods given by Alcuin and advanced by this book will be helpful in leading a revolution of virtue through catechesis.
In any event, I look forward to cooperating with Pope Benedict on this revolution of virtue. Let us return our society to a truly Christian one. Let's fill it with faith, hope, and love once again!
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Although this task is not without its precedent in the pontificate of John Paul the Great, the encyclicals of Pope Benedict seem to deal directly and deliberately with two of the three theological virtues. Assuming that he does in fact write a follow-up encyclical on faith, we will have three documents which give specific direction for a renewal of virtue which will spark cultural revolution.
So what's the point? Anyone can notice that we lack faith, hope, and love (charity) in our modern world? Instead of the theological virtues, we have secular replacements (a part of the devil's plan, no doubt). Certainly we believe things, but we only believe those things which can be measured and proven empirically...or, somewhat ironically, those things which, regardless of being without any proof, we wish to believe (I think the common trend here is that we believe what is easy to believe, whether by proof or by bias). We also place a value on secular rewards, the hopes and dreams of this present life. As for love, we replace it with lust, and our charity consists of Oprah's Big Give. Western civilization has been falling to a lazy form of virtue.
The word virtue comes from the Latin virtus, meaning manhood. The problem is that over the last century or so, our idea of manhood has changed into what can iconographically be described as Homer Simpson. The media tells us that men are overweight, unthinking carnivores who lack self-control and have only one thing on their minds (and we all know what that is). We, as Catholic men, should take this revolution of virtue in a special direction. What better vision, what better icon could there be for our role-model than St. Joseph? Just and merciful, humble and regal, obedient and responsible, St. Joseph embodies authentic manhood more than any other saint. There is no other man God would have chosen to be the foster father of His Son.
So, my question to you is this: in what specific ways does St. Joseph practice faith, hope, and love? What can we learn from him as a model of true masculine virtue?
As an aside, the first chapter of a new book I've been reading recently, The Catechism of the Catholic Church and the Craft of Catechesis (written in part by Barbara Morgan, founder of the catechetics program at Franciscan University of Steubenville, the flagship of American catechetical institutions today), discusses the charge given to Alcuin by the Holy Roman Emperor Charlemagne to produce a way of infusing society with Christianity. I believe that this book is a timely commentary on the needs of catechesis, which are ever more relevant in the context of our post-Christian society. Perhaps the methods given by Alcuin and advanced by this book will be helpful in leading a revolution of virtue through catechesis.
In any event, I look forward to cooperating with Pope Benedict on this revolution of virtue. Let us return our society to a truly Christian one. Let's fill it with faith, hope, and love once again!
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Orthodoxy of Bishop-Elect Michael Duca Confirmed
I'd been told by those who know him fairly personally (Laura over at "...and if not...", a friend of mine from Dallas) that he was orthodox, but the more information I get, the more amazed I am at the reviews this bishop has received. I met him yesterday after his first Mass in the Diocese of Shreveport and he seemed like nothing less than a holy, humble, and very happy priest. His homily was a personal introduction, but he wove the readings into it quite nicely. Word on the street is that he is everything we need: orthodox, passionate, pro-life, liturgically conservative, vocation-inspiring, holy, joyous, humble, down-to-earth, extroverted, energetic, and overall a great guy. The comments at American Papist are all rave reviews, including, apparently, that he is an excellent chef. May His Excellency to be be warmly received by the Diocese of Shreveport.
If you're reading this, Msgr. Duca, know you have my support and the support of many orthodox Catholics in the Shreveport Diocese who are ready to stand with you. We look forward to your leadership.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
If you're reading this, Msgr. Duca, know you have my support and the support of many orthodox Catholics in the Shreveport Diocese who are ready to stand with you. We look forward to your leadership.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah Murphy
Hope and Love: The Fulfillment of Faith
"The gift of faith remains in one who has not sinned against it. But 'faith apart from works is dead': when it is deprived of hope and love, faith does not fully unite the believer to Christ and does not make him a living member of His Body." -CCC 1815
As I read this passage last night, I realized that lately, my faith has been without hope, and without hope, it has been without love. St. Augustine said that we believe so as to hope, and we hope so as to love.
I've been experiencing a lot of dryness lately, which is in part why I created this blog. After moving to my new home, I had to live for a long time in a situation where I didn't have much personal freedom, essentially a prisoner in my own home. In other words, I lived in the rectory at the parish where I worked (this was before I was married) and had no means of transportation. The whole arrangement had me very stressed. What's worse was that all my money was going to pay for a wedding I could barely afford. To top it all off, the diocese in which I had been hired was without a bishop, and there were very difficult situations in which I found myself.
After the wedding, we got pregnant right away, for which I am very grateful, but my wife's insurance had not yet kicked in, and we had to rush to the hospital three times in two weeks. We were barely getting by. In fact, we still are barely getting by (I have $8 in my bank account at this very moment). I know the old cliche...it could get so much worse, and indeed it could. I have much to be grateful for.
I noticed that my love was weak, my devotion was pathetic, and my once strong fervor for the faith was rapidly turning toward apathy, despite my best efforts to keep the light burning. I was tired, exhausted from the struggle, and at the end of my rope.
Yesterday, I received a ray of hope. Msgr. Michael Gerard Duca was appointed Bishop of the Diocese of Shreveport. Alleluia! A good friend from Dallas, his home diocese, assured me: he is a good, holy, orthodox man.
As I read this passage of the Catechism last night, I stopped and realized that until yesterday, my faith had been so hard to swallow because without hope and without love, faith is simply intellectual assent to the deposit of faith. That's not to say that that is anything small, but it is ultimately unsatisfying if it is not filled, even impregnated, by hope and love. Today I feel ten times more joyous, filled with energy and fervor for God, and on fire for my faith. I want to kindle my youth tonight in the light of hope.
May God renew me in hope and give me a profound awareness for all I have to be thankful for.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
As I read this passage last night, I realized that lately, my faith has been without hope, and without hope, it has been without love. St. Augustine said that we believe so as to hope, and we hope so as to love.
I've been experiencing a lot of dryness lately, which is in part why I created this blog. After moving to my new home, I had to live for a long time in a situation where I didn't have much personal freedom, essentially a prisoner in my own home. In other words, I lived in the rectory at the parish where I worked (this was before I was married) and had no means of transportation. The whole arrangement had me very stressed. What's worse was that all my money was going to pay for a wedding I could barely afford. To top it all off, the diocese in which I had been hired was without a bishop, and there were very difficult situations in which I found myself.
After the wedding, we got pregnant right away, for which I am very grateful, but my wife's insurance had not yet kicked in, and we had to rush to the hospital three times in two weeks. We were barely getting by. In fact, we still are barely getting by (I have $8 in my bank account at this very moment). I know the old cliche...it could get so much worse, and indeed it could. I have much to be grateful for.
I noticed that my love was weak, my devotion was pathetic, and my once strong fervor for the faith was rapidly turning toward apathy, despite my best efforts to keep the light burning. I was tired, exhausted from the struggle, and at the end of my rope.
Yesterday, I received a ray of hope. Msgr. Michael Gerard Duca was appointed Bishop of the Diocese of Shreveport. Alleluia! A good friend from Dallas, his home diocese, assured me: he is a good, holy, orthodox man.
As I read this passage of the Catechism last night, I stopped and realized that until yesterday, my faith had been so hard to swallow because without hope and without love, faith is simply intellectual assent to the deposit of faith. That's not to say that that is anything small, but it is ultimately unsatisfying if it is not filled, even impregnated, by hope and love. Today I feel ten times more joyous, filled with energy and fervor for God, and on fire for my faith. I want to kindle my youth tonight in the light of hope.
May God renew me in hope and give me a profound awareness for all I have to be thankful for.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Live Well, Love Much, Laugh Often
Over the bar in my apartment is a decorative bunch of grapes made out of resin with a little ribbon in front of them. On the ribbon is a very short, sweet motto: Live Well, Love Much, Laugh Often. I wonder how many people could benefit from taking this simple advice to heart.
Live well. What does that mean? Well, of course, to live, but that word well can have different meanings. It can be specifically health-related; a person who is well is not ill. That, by extension, can refer to physical or spiritual well-being. I prefer to take the broader sense, though, which certainly nonetheless includes the reference to health. To live well means to live a life fill of quality. The quantity of life we can’t help; we only get one. In light of that, I choose moral sense for the phrase. If we live well, practicing virtues, especially faith, hope, and love, that one life will be eternal.
How, though, does one live well? Love much. Again, this has a double meaning. Does this mean that we should love many things and persons or does it mean that our love should be great? Here we do have the ability to manage both the quantity and the quality. We can love all people, and truly that even-handed love is divine, since God, in His love, “makes His sun rise on the good and the bad” (see Matthew 5:44-48). We can also love with great passion, making love the central movement of our lives. If we live by love, we live well.
Love, though, is a challenge. If is capable of releasing so much joy, not only in the soul of the lover, but in the beloved as well, and yet it is such a challenge to love all people, let alone to love with passion. Laugh often. Laughter is a great gift of God. It flows freely from love, and even has the magnificent power of spreading love. Laughter also is the way to overcome the challenge to love. In The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, a copy of which I am oddly without at the moment, there is a passage in which the demons are conferring about their charge and one mentions that the human had gotten quite upset with himself, terribly ashamed of some sin, to such an extent that he was on the verge of committing the sin of pride for not humbly accepting his frailties, and at the very moment he was about to go over the edge, he laughed at the silliness of it all, laughed at his own frailty, and was lost from the demon’s grasp once more. Laughter is a sign of joy, one of loves great gifts, and it is a release from the prison of many vices of the mind: hatred, jealousy, shame, envy, bitterness, anger, and a whole host of others.
So live well, love much, and laugh often. In these three things, life becomes more worth living.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Live well. What does that mean? Well, of course, to live, but that word well can have different meanings. It can be specifically health-related; a person who is well is not ill. That, by extension, can refer to physical or spiritual well-being. I prefer to take the broader sense, though, which certainly nonetheless includes the reference to health. To live well means to live a life fill of quality. The quantity of life we can’t help; we only get one. In light of that, I choose moral sense for the phrase. If we live well, practicing virtues, especially faith, hope, and love, that one life will be eternal.
How, though, does one live well? Love much. Again, this has a double meaning. Does this mean that we should love many things and persons or does it mean that our love should be great? Here we do have the ability to manage both the quantity and the quality. We can love all people, and truly that even-handed love is divine, since God, in His love, “makes His sun rise on the good and the bad” (see Matthew 5:44-48). We can also love with great passion, making love the central movement of our lives. If we live by love, we live well.
Love, though, is a challenge. If is capable of releasing so much joy, not only in the soul of the lover, but in the beloved as well, and yet it is such a challenge to love all people, let alone to love with passion. Laugh often. Laughter is a great gift of God. It flows freely from love, and even has the magnificent power of spreading love. Laughter also is the way to overcome the challenge to love. In The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, a copy of which I am oddly without at the moment, there is a passage in which the demons are conferring about their charge and one mentions that the human had gotten quite upset with himself, terribly ashamed of some sin, to such an extent that he was on the verge of committing the sin of pride for not humbly accepting his frailties, and at the very moment he was about to go over the edge, he laughed at the silliness of it all, laughed at his own frailty, and was lost from the demon’s grasp once more. Laughter is a sign of joy, one of loves great gifts, and it is a release from the prison of many vices of the mind: hatred, jealousy, shame, envy, bitterness, anger, and a whole host of others.
So live well, love much, and laugh often. In these three things, life becomes more worth living.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
Habemus Episcopum!
The Roman Catholic Diocese of Dallas is reporting that Msgr. Michael Gerard Duca has been appointed as the bishop-elect of the Diocese of Shreveport, his ordination tentatively scheduled for May 19, 2008.
As I have had some time to observe the Diocese of Shreveport, I hope the bishop will be a force for orthodoxy and increased vocations throughout our region. If anyone has any information on him, I'd be very appreciative to have it.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
As I have had some time to observe the Diocese of Shreveport, I hope the bishop will be a force for orthodoxy and increased vocations throughout our region. If anyone has any information on him, I'd be very appreciative to have it.
His Servant and Yours,
Micah
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