Apprentice of St. Joseph

Meal Monday: Spicy Sweet BBQ

2011-03-14T18:00:00.004-05:00

Barbeque. It's a manly, fatherly thing. As an American, I find barbeque to be a part of our patrimony...a part worth preserving.

Despite years of cooking experience, I never knew how easy it was to make homemade BBQ sauce until I made this dish last year. I'm sharing it with you now.

BBQ Sauce (all measurements approximate, adjust according to taste)
1/2 C balsamic vinegar
1/8 C diced red onion
2 cloves garlic, diced
1/4 C cherry jelly
1/4 C cherries, ribboned
1/2 C ketchup
1/2 C brown sugar
1 TBSP lemon juice
2 TBSP chipotle-cinnamon seasoning
Pinch paprika
2 TBSP whiskey
approx 8 whole cherries (optional, for garnish)

Bring vinegar to boil (about a 4 on an electric range), stir in red onion, garlic, cherry jelly, cherries. Allow to boil for 5 minutes, reduce heat to high simmer. Stir in ketchup, brown sugar, lemon juice, chipotle seasoning, paprika, whiskey, and whole cherries. Simmer at least 10 minutes.

Note: boiling vinegar smells very strong. Once well seasoned, it will begin to smell better. Don't be alarmed by a very strong vinegary odor (enough to "burn" your nose if you smell it directly from the pot). It will not taste the same as it smells and the smell will get better.

If using the BBQ as a marinade, dilute it to your own tastes after reserving some sauce to brush on the meat afterward for flavor.

Faith of Our Fathers Friday

2011-03-11T09:00:00.002-06:00

Part of whole "restoring the patrimony" of the Church is to look at the faith of our fathers to ensure that it is, in fact, living still.

Note: I will be relying on the Church Fathers section at New Advent for the texts of the Fathers, unless otherwise noted. I will be relying on the Patron Saints Index (hereafter, "PSI") and the Medieval Sourcebook (for later hagiography) as well. I thank the good people who run these sites for the service they do the Church and/or history (I do not necessarily agree with the opinions expressed at any site, but especially not at the Medieval Sourcebook).

Disclaimers aside, let's move on...

The Aurea Legenda (Golden Legend) tells the story of St. Ignatius of Antioch (among others) in a nice, condensed form. I'm going to use the translation provided at Patron Saints Index. As a foreword, be aware that legend doesn't mean myth. In fact, it means nothing of the sort at all and doesn't even imply in any sense that the story is a fictional account. The word legend means must be read, a sort of imperative demanded by the nature of the text. It is such a great story, a true one, that it must be read.

The name Ignatius implies fire, and he is filled with the fire of divine love. According to the Legenda, Ignatius desired to know more about Christ (whom another legend says he had met as a child when Christ called him to stand, cf. Matthew 18:2-4). As an adult, he was a disciple of St. John the Apostles and wrote a letter to the Blessed Virgin, requesting to know everything about Christ from her who was His Mother and who knew Him best. (Marian devotion? In the apostolic age? Yes.) She responded that everything John taught him was true (the Blessed Virgin does not take on herself the role of apostle, but points us to the Magisterium).

After having become the Bishop of Antioch (a See once occupied by St. Peter), he admonished the Emperor Trajan for his anti-Christian persecutions and was himself taken prisoner. St. Ignatius wrote letters to many Churches along the way to Rome: Ephesus, Magnesia, Tralles, Philadelphia, Smyrna, and others. He spoke often of the need for Christians to unite around their bishops, to be in harmony with them, to avoid evil and heresy. Finally, we read in his Epistle to the Romans, "I beseech of you not to show an unseasonable good-will towards me. Allow me to become food for the wild beasts, through whose instrumentality it will be granted me to attain to God. I am the wheat of God, and let me be ground by the teeth of the wild beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ. Rather entice the wild beasts, that they may become my tomb, and may leave nothing of my body; so that when I have fallen asleep [in death], I may be no trouble to any one. Then shall I truly be a disciple of Christ, when the world shall not see so much as my body. Entreat Christ for me, that by these instruments I may be found a sacrifice [to God]." St. Ignatius of Antioch desired not to be saved from martyrdom, but to be permitted to go to his certain death, wherein he would finally be with Christ in Paradise.

According to the Legend, he was tortured repeatedly and nevertheless always had the name of Jesus Christ upon his lips. When asked by his torturers how it was possible to suffer so willingly while calling on Christ, he told them that Christ's name was written on his heart. After being sacrificed to two lions, the Legend says, his heart was removed and the name of Christ found written upon it in gold.

St. Ignatius of Antioch, pray for us!

The First Luminous Mystery

2011-03-10T13:56:00.001-06:00

I was thinking today about the Baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan.

Lately, I've resolved to begin meditating daily (we'll call it a Lenten jump-starting practice) and I've chosen the method of placing myself, using my imagination, into whatever scene I am meditating on. Today, I decided to be a disciple of St. John the Baptist. Keep in mind that I'm trying to play myself in the shoes of another...thoughts I might've had if I were John's disciple 2000 years ago, aside from anachronistic references to later things for the sake of drawing out meaning.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

I can sympathize with the Essenes of John's time, with whom many scholars believe he was associated. I am an ardent melancholic. I can understand the desire for perfection and the intellectual refusal to compromise. This often gets me into trouble, but when I do end up trying to come to some compromise with anyone (only in act, never in spirit), I screw the whole thing up anyway. I am learning (mostly from my wife, whom I owe a debt of gratitude) the choleric trait of standing up for myself and not giving in (may I never, though, pick up from her the sanguine traits of interior design or crafting).

Hail Mary, full of grace...

Anyway, as I was saying, I sympathize with the rigor of the Essenes. Once in college, one of my favorite professors told us about one of the scrolls at Qumran, which contained a debate between the Essenes and the Pharisees. They arguing over ritualistic cleanliness. The Essenes were more rigorous than the Pharisees! So, there you are, they must have been perfectionist melancholics. "The melancholic so longs for heaven that everything on earth falls short" ... and the complaints about imperfections begin.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

So I imagined myself as one of John's disciples. I see this guy eating locusts and honey. I probably try to do it myself (I'm deathly allergic to roaches, so I'm guessing locusts aren't a good idea, either), but I admire his asceticism. He's taught me a lot and I, a faithful Jew, know that I must follow the Law and the Prophets, but, like John's other disciples, I probably miss the point, at least enough that I also miss the Savior. You see, John's been talking about the Messiah. We've been expecting him. Many of us think John is the Messiah, because let's face it, he's really good at this whole following the Law thing. John denies it, though. He says he's not worthy even to serve the Messiah in the lowliest of ways, to untie his sandal. We all scoff at this. John is holy. We all know it. He does all these holy works.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

When I was a teenager and very confused about soteriology (the way most teens are confused about trig), I unwittingly found myself something of a Pelagian. It wasn't intentional. I didn't know better. Nonetheless, I've always been kind of a do-it-yourselfer. I have this tendency even now when I teach to try to make it all about my content and my methods. I leave little to God, to my great detriment.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

So I'm John's disciple, really focused a lot on works. Holy works. Good works. The Law is there for me to fulfill it. I must not sin, I must not sin. Then I see this new guy approach one day. He looks kinda like John. Could they be related? Maybe he wants to follow John, too. "Behold, the Lamb of God," John shouts, "who takes away the sins of the world!" Clearly, my spiritual leader John is telling the newcomer about himself. He's so holy. The new guy does want to be a follower of John! He's asked to be baptized! But what's this...John's refusing..."he's not worthy?" What does John mean? Of course he's worthy! His works are so holy! He follows the law so well!

Hail Mary, full of grace...

Then I see a surprise. They're talking amongst themselves when, lo and behold, John baptizes the newcomer! Well, this just proves that this Jesus character isn't the Messiah. Another notch for John's belt!

Hail Mary, full of grace...

I keep watching John and Jesus. As he comes up from the water, a dove descends on Jesus. The clouds part and a heavenly light shines on Him. There is something more than Moses, greater than Solomon, greater than Jonah here. There is grace. This man fulfills the Law. He lives out the Law with faith, hope, and love. No man can accomplish this without God's grace, and here is a sign to confirm it! What's than, God? He is your beloved Son? You are well pleased in Him? Here I try day and night to follow the Law to please God, but this one pleases God completely, by grace. God even calls Him His Son.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

Now remember, I'm a melancholic, which means I can be a bit anxious at times (people who know me, chuckle here). When I was younger, this also made me sympathize with Luther. "Wait," I hear you saying now, "Pelagianism AND Lutheranism? Is that even possible?" Sure it's possible. It was possible for Luther...but that's another post. The First Luminous Mystery shows us God's sign to a people entirely concenred with good works. I don't assume that they did good works as the Pharisees did them, but even still, they could not have done them as Christ did them.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

The Baptism of Jesus gives us insight into the source of Christ's fulfillment of the Law: it is grace. Luther would say that His grace covers our sinfulness, but this is wrong. On the contrary, Christs's grace is what allows us also to fulfill the Law. We live out this life of grace in faith-working-through-love. Love is the perfect fulfillment of the Law. The Pelagians would say that man must step it up and save himself, but this is also wrong. If Christ had been a mere man, He could not have fulfilled the Law. It is only by His Divinity that He was so able, and it is only by our sharing in His divine Life that we are able.

Then St. John the Baptist smacks me for my stupid, prideful thoughts about Jesus. I really am a fool, but God teaches me!

Hail Mary, full of grace...

Let us strive this Lent to be open to God's work in us through His grace.

Pax et Bonum!

Judas Iscariot is Alive and Well...and Still Going to Mass

2011-03-10T09:00:00.002-06:00

"After he took the morsel, Satan entered him. So Jesus said to him, 'What you are going to do, do quickly.' ... So he took the morsel and left at once. And it was night."

-John 13:27, 30

Is it just me or has anyone else ever wanted to hang this painting near the back door of their parish? Perhaps the big, bold, Romanized words JUDAS LEFT EARLY, TOO could be a part of the motiff.

I dare a priest to do it. Take a picture and send it to me.

Pax et Bonum!

Remember, Man, That Thou Art Dust...

2011-03-09T15:35:00.000-06:00

So, are you wearing a giant ashen target on your head that says, tempt me? Remember this Ash Wednesday that Satan would like nothing more than to take out the children of God who are wearing the Sign of the Cross on their foreheads. How much evil could he work if only he could get them to sin while wearing a seeming endorsement from Christ and Church? How hard will he work to win back those souls to hell who will be approaching God this Lent in the Sacrament of Penance? Speaking of the Sacrament of Penance, was it offered before or even during Mass at your parish this Ash Wednesday? Seems to me to be an awful waste of an opportune moment not to offer Reconciliation for hours surrounding the most attended Mass of the year in the United States. People come out of the woodwork for Ash Wednesday Mass. At one of my old parish jobs, we once got a call about Ash Wednesday times from someone at the local strip club, or so said the caller id. How much would Satan like that person to come to Ash Wednesday Mass and not be prompted by a confessional line to repent of his sins? Just another reminder, folks: we're at war.

Yes, war. We are engaged in a timeless battle for souls. If only we could live the material veil of our world and see the souls involved! If only we could see as angels and demons wage a bloodless war to the eternal consequence of souls - of yours, of mine - and we are so often unaware that we are soldiers also.

Today is Ash Wednesday. We, good soldiers, enrolled in the Army of God at our Baptism, are now marked with a sign of the battlefield. Dirt and ash, from which we were taken, has been smeared in the sign of our Savior upon our brows. An incredible thing, this dust. Remember, man, that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return. Dust...we are so frail. We are made from the most abundant thing on the earth, the very stuff of earth! To dust we shall return.

We have in the words of Jesus in today's readings an exhortation to be humble. As we Catholics have an outward sign of our faith on our foreheads, which Christ seems to have forbade, we know that His real meaning was not to go showing of our faith. Don't let your ashes be for show. Let them be a sign of true repentance! Don't go pretending to be holy. Be holy! Don't go trying to impress upon the people around you how holy you are for going to Mass today and receiving ashes (I tell you, this is why most people go). Go out, instead, as a light to the nations, a sign of repentance. When people see you, they should not think, "look at this holy person" but rather "look at this pile of dust." Be humble!

The root word of humility means dirt. We ought to think of ourselves as dirt because we are dirt. Humility consists in nothing more than honesty about oneself. If you enter Lent thinking that you are a saint, you are a fool. If you enter Lent thinking that sin isn't a terrible problem in your life, you are a fool. Humble yourself! See in your ashes a sobering reflection of who and what you are.

We are at war. The General, our Lord of Lords and King of Kings, needs us to be humble. He needs us to be able to slip under the radar, too seem to the enemy that we are small fish not worth the catch. Only if we are humble can He save us. The war, though, is already won. It was one 2000 years ago on Calvary. The enemy, though, dishonest demons that they are, will refuse to acknowledge that they have lost. They will fight to kill every last soldier on the battlefield. They will fight not with direct attacks - they can't - but by trying to convince you to kill your own soul. That's the secret the devil doesn't want anyone to know. When Christ says not to fear him who can destroy the body, but him who can cast both body and soul into hell (cf. Mt 10:28), He is speaking firstly of fearing yourself. Fear of self is a necessary aspect of humility. I must truly be afraid of what I will do to myself, what some demon will convince me to do through temptation. That is the way they fight. They get us to do the killing.

Be humble. Know that you are capable of sin, but also, by God's grace, of great virtue.

Remember, man, that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return.

Pax et Bonum!

Two Masters

2011-03-08T13:53:00.002-06:00

"No one can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon."

- Matthew 6:24

What ought to be the Church's wealth: money or souls?

The following is not aimed at any specific Church ministry.

I've observed people in the Church of many different philosophies on the subject. On the one hand, I'm a husband and father who teaches for a living. I'd love to do this ministry for free (really, I would LOVE that), but it's not practical. I have obligations. I must be paid or else I cannot do the job because I really will have to be busy doing something else to make a living. In that sense, the salaries of many Church employees are much more like stipends. It's there to cover my living expenses so that I may be free to go about my work. It's not about making me rich (if I wanted to be rich, I'd go work for Joel Olsteen).

Problem is, I couldn't live with the constant smiling, hand gestures, and always talking about money. I hate money. Like I said, if I could teach for free, I would. St. John Bosco faced the same dilemma and left his cushy job to take care of street urchins. "Give me souls, take away the rest," he always said. He didn't have a wife and kids to support (granted, though, he did have hundreds of boys).

The trouble I'm having, though, as I look around the Church is that there are pockets of materialism everywhere. Somehow, catechists (clergy and laity alike) got it into their heads that what really attracts sinners to come encounter the Living God and repent of sin is soft, fluffy cushions on Church pews, pool tables in air-conditioned youth centers, and pre-cana weekends that mention enneagrams more often than they do the Wedding Feast at Cana.

These pockets of materialism go right along with pockets of utilitarianism. "How do we boost our numbers?" The pastor says at a staff meeting. How often is it about numbers? Don't get me wrong, the more saved the better, but I have this suspicious that if we focused on quality instead of quantity, we'd end up being attractive enough to get a sizeable quantity. Instead, because we play the numbers game, we often find ourselves sacrificing meaningful catechesis (especially homilies) at the altar of "entertaining, fun, and free-of-charge." The pastor will soon turn to a fundraising campaign. To buy evangelization tools? No. To hire a more adequate staff? No. To put new leather furniture in the parish hall? Bingo.

So I put the question to you: are we out to make money or to save souls? How should we measure our profits and are we truly profitable?

I'd like to take up St. John Bosco's motto. "Give me souls, take away the rest." Now this was a man who knew how to attract souls. He did indeed use a certain methodology, sometimes even involving a touch of trickery. The thing is, he used that methodology to get the souls where he needed them in order to take them the rest of the way. He used parlor tricks and tightrope walking to gather young men around himself so that he could preach the Gospel to them. He offered them a home and an education. Most of all, he offered them a family. He offered them love. He did all things toward that end.

I understand how it must be for an outside onlooker wanting to imitate Bosco. "Well, I'll make this youth event fun and exciting and we'll attract new kids." It'll work. You'll get a few more kids in the program. So far, though, you're only showing concern about numbers. "Well, I'll keep having fun and games for them and they'll stay in the program." Maybe. You're still only showing concern about numbers.

You realize they won't respond to an advertisement for "come talk about Jesus and sexual morality night" at the youth center, so you're trying to get them on their level, and I get that, but when are you actually going to bring up Jesus? Effective evangelists don't sacrifice the message. They preach the gospel. They preach it clearly. Yes, they might use something other than the gospel to attract people initially, but they will bring the gospel into it. They will make Jesus the center of the event. Money and all the things it supports, are ancillary. They are there to help provide material support for the gospel message. Your disciples need to cross a river to faith. You need to help them walk on water. You need Jesus for that. You need your eyes set on Jesus. You need their eyes set on Jesus. "The rest," as St. John Bosco says, is just to get them to the river bank.

What happens when all that parish funding runs out? If you've preached the gospel well, your disciples will stay. If you've preached poorly, they will move on to the next comfy, cushioned pew, where they may be hearing a worse version of the gospel. That's assuming they haven't already left you, bored to tears of gaming challenges instead of moral ones.

Human beings, for all their complaining and whining about boredom, appreciate a good challenge. They know when something is worth their attention. They realize that when you don't water something down for them, there's a reason. They can read how much faith you really have in the gospel by how much (or how little) you demand of their faithfulness to Christ. They look at the martyrs and say, "by golly, if he died for this faith, and went to his death willingly without a protest, if he really found in Christ something worth dying for, then maybe I can find in Christ something worth living for."

There was a martyr of the early Church, a deacon in the Eternal City, Rome, who went by Lawrence. Most of us are familiar with the legend of his death on a grill, when he cried out, "I'm done on this side, turn me over." What perhaps not all of us are aware of is what happened before his death. He was commanded by the greedy Romans to produce the wealth of the Church. They wanted all the money the Church had, but you see, the early Christians had little money and little use for it. They believed in the gospel. I suppose they figured that if there was anyone who refused to join the Church because of a lack of wealth or luxury or comfy pews (the used to stand through Mass, which was much longer than ours, by the way), that person was preferring mammon to God, or at best trying to serve two masters, and was not ready for the gospel. Maybe that kind of attitude might help us today, the words of Christ commanding us not to cast pearls before swine (cf. Matthew 7:6). Anyway, the Romans ordered Deacon Lawrence to produce the wealth of the Church. He obeyed. St. Lawrence appeared before them with the poor huddled around himself. "Here, magistrates, is the wealth of the Church, greater than the wealth of your emperor."

What ought to be the Church's wealth: money or souls?

St. John Bosco, pray for us!

St. Lawrence, pray for us!

__________

Related: Sight and Vision in Worship

Patriarch of the Family

2011-03-07T23:31:00.000-06:00

I once worked for a priest who used to proclaim proudly that he was the patriarch of his family. He worked on genealogy, maintained contact with his family members, and took care of his people. Good for him.

In Pope Leo XIII's Quamquam Pluries, St. Joseph is repeatedly called a patriarch, the patriarxh ofnthe Holy Family.

All men are, in a sense, the patriarch. Although I am not my parents' oldest son, I know I will one day be the patriarch of the family in virtue of the fact that I'm the only husband and father of the three sons my mother bore. I intend to take that role seriously.

In the meantime, I act as the patriarch of my own home now. Tonight, I made a special treat for my toddler son for dessert to reward his good behavior this evening. He, his mother, and I all sat and watched a soothing video to get him ready for bed. He had great peace this evening.

Isn't that what being a patriarch is all about? Watching over your kids and taking care of those you're responsible for? I hope when I go to my judgment, Christ tells me that my children are destined to come to Him in part because I was a good father and a good patriarch.

Pax et Bonum!

Preparing for Lent

2011-03-07T09:00:00.000-06:00

I teach high school theology, so I'm often asked to give examples of what I'm giving up for the benefit of my students. I won't tell you everything because it's none of your business. Sorry.

However, I will tell you these two things:

Misusing Family Time - Last summer, my school gave all the teachers iPads as we move toward becoming a more digitally enabled place of learning. It's been great and I've enjoyed using it. I look forward to using it more in the classroom in the future. However, like so many modern conveniences, it's also made it much more easy for me to get distracted. I've misused a lot of family time, let the kids play with their toys while I surf the web, watch Netflix movies, and get work done. No more! For Lent (and more or less thereafter), I'm not using my iPad (or any similar technology) during family time.
Complaining, Venting, Arguing, Worrying - I'm a melancholic. I spend a lot of time complaining, venting, arguing, and worrying. Instead, I'm going to do my best this Lent (and thereafter) to spend that time praying.

The purpose of Lent is to help us remove the obstacles between ourselves and God. In order to do this effectively, you really need to take the time to sit down and analyze seriously what those obstacles are. Please don't just give up caffeine or something. Yes, that will help you learn to say no to the desires of the flesh, but why not try targeting the specific desires that are a real challenge for your faith and prayer life?

Pax et Bonum!

Hedonism Rears It's Ugly, Demonic Head Once Again

2011-03-05T17:38:00.002-06:00

In Greek mythology, the three headed dog Cerberus guards the gate of the underworld. If the demonic selfishness of pride (the sin of Satan), is Cerberus, then it seems to me the ugly beast's three heads are secularism, relativism, and utilitarianism.

I read this article today about the position of a representative from the National Education Association (NEA), which for years has been behind a host of immoral practices in American education. In short, the NEA wants the UN to help implement a comprehensive sex ed program which would be required of all students everywhere to teach them about the joys of sin, specifically oral sex, masturbation, orgasm, homoeroticism, etc.

I mention secularism, relativism, and utilitarianism, for the following reasons:

Secularism is the belief either that there is no afterlife or that it isn't important. In other words, secularism is a belief in "the age" (saecula), that is, this life. Secularists care only about this life. In light of the prospect of being nothing more than worm food for all eternity, secularists try to focus on the pleasures this life has to offer. They are very attached to themselves. In this case, secularism leads to a complete focus on sexual pleasure; why not, afterall, try to make sex the purpose of life? It's as good as any other pleasure one could focus on. This is why passing the sexual agenda is so important for secularists. They really do think it's the point in life, and therefore the most important thing to learn in any educational system.
Relativism is the belief that everything in life, particularly morals, exists relative to myself. I have my own truth, my own morals, and you have yours. Thus, it really doesn't matter what you or anyone else, even society, says is right or wrong, it matters only what I believe is right or wrong. The trouble with relativism (aside from the obvious, self-evident truth that there is objective truth no one can doubt) is that relativists, like the rest of us, do not live in a vacuum. They must try to spread their ideas, the way we all do even if we don't express them in words. Enter the NEA representative: "She claimed that the idea of sex education remains an oxymoron if it is abstinence-based, or if students are still able to opt-out." Her relativistic moral beliefs will not abide a disagreement. They will attempt to stomp out abstinence and even conscientious objection to her educational content and methods.
Utilitarianism is a belief that other people are means to my ends, that I must utilize them to get what I want, or in other words, that I am the ultimate purpose of my existence...and the existences of those I use. It's bad enough when sex ed leaves out the concept of marriage, the procreative aspect of sex, the unitive purpose of sex, to focus on pleasure. What's worse, the NEA rep wants sex ed "based on liberal hetero and homosexual expression." How much more utilitarian can it get than saying the purpose of sex is self-expression? Imagine a man on trial for rape. "I was just expressing my desire. That's what sex is for." With this kind of teaching, everyone around me becomes a tool for my self-expression, which is more often than not based on a whim and a fleeting feeling. This, ladies and gentlemen, is utilitarianism at its finest.

What would St. Joseph say? I think he'd say we need to remember death and ponder the fires of hell and the glories of heaven. That would fight secularism. I think he'd say we need to look at the world around us and at Divine Revelation to discover the real truth God wants to tell us. That should fight relativism. We need to realize that we have minds to understand truth, not to make it up. Lastly, I think he'd say that we need to examine ourselves, our own subjectivity and our own dignity, to realize that others, like us, deserve not to be treated as objects or means to an end. That ought to fight utilitarianism.

So, the weapon to kill Cerberus is humility. Humility alone helps us remember our sins in light of God and heaven, helps us accept truth, and helps us recognize the value of others over ourselves.

The Price of Materialism: Your Soul

2011-03-04T21:20:00.000-06:00

I had an interesting discussion today with a materialist who denied the existence of the soul. I thought it might make a good topic for brief discussion. I'll present a few brief arguments for the soul.

Argument from Experience - we all experience a particular existence that transcends the physical world. We know instinctively that we are more than just a sophisticated grouping of organs. We also know that there is something very subjective about us. I am an I. I am unrepeatable. I govern myself. I am such that no one else can experience my first-handedness. These are captured in one definition of the person - persona est sui juris et incommunicabilis - the person is of his own law (self-governing) and incommunicable. Furthermore, the thought of death offends, but the thought that I could ever cease to exist offends universally. Every major religion (and almost every minor religion, certainly every one I've ever heard of) has a belief in the eternity of the soul, even if it is in reincarnation. There is something that we human beings find appallingly wrong about the idea that I could ever stop being. If my body dies (no one denies this), but I live on, then I must be more than a body. It's instinctual. Those who believe otherwise have, in my opinion, had their thoughts on the matter modified.
Argument from Thought - We have thoughts which are not material; ergo, we must have a spiritual component, the soul. If Bob is thinking of a boat and I, at that very moment, lop off the top of his head and perform a lobotomy, I will not find a boat, nor will I find a thought of a boat. At most, I will find a collection of neurochemicals and electrical signals which transmit in a cypher the human brain understands the communication of the thought of a boat. The thought itself, however, I will never find. The thought is non-physical, but it is real. Ergo, it must be possible that there exist real, non-physical entities. My thoughts generated by my mind, which is a faculty of my soul. Materialists, who believe that everything that exists is material, hate the idea of spiritual, non-physical realities. I once had the experience that a person with whom I was debating so hated the idea of a spiritual reality that he said a thought was "a non-physical reality," and when I pressed him to therefore classify it as "a spiritual reality," he insisted instead that it was "a non-physical reality that doesn't exist." For the materialist, anything non-physical does not exist. How it could be something and yet not exist is beyond me. How it could be a reality and yet not exist is an even greater mystery still. The spiritual realm must exist.
Argument from Universal Transcendentals - This one is similar to the last one. Transcendental realities, such as love, truth, beauty, goodness, etc., must exist. Even things like the laws of mathematics and the laws of physics (not just metaphysical truths) must exist. Drive home that if something is true it must be real, it must exist, even if not physical.
Argument from Causation - While this argument does not prove the existence of the soul, it does prove the existence of the spiritual realm. It is a simple argument. Materialists are often fans of the Big Bang Theory, which a Catholic may accept so long as he believes God was behind the Big Bang (to a materialist, any god would have to be material and part of the universe, so it seems illogical to say that God is behind the Big Bang). Proponents of the Big Bang Theory will often point out that it is crazy to say that God is around from eternity ("oh yeah, who created God?"). Don't let them gain ground on this; respond: "if my belief is impossible, so is yours. If one Big Bang is preceded by another, who created that one...and who created that one...and so on. Either way, you have something that didn't have a beginning, whether God or the universe." At this point, the argument is half-won. You simply need to add: but the physical universe couldn't have started itself. How could something cause itself to come into existence? So everything physical that exists must have been caused by something outside of itself, which, by definition, is something non-physical, something spiritual. There must be something spiritual, and not only that, but the spiritual principle is a higher one, because it created the material.

Pax et Bonum!

Spiritual Warfare According to Fr. Longenecker

2011-03-03T16:40:00.001-06:00

Fr. Longenecker has written a great, short article on joy in spiritual warfare. I have no desire to reinvent the wheel with my own comments. Just read it. Then laugh.

St. Joseph's Fables: to be a Duke

2011-03-02T15:33:00.001-06:00

You've all heard of Aesop's fables. One of the things I love to do is to come up with parables and fables to get a point across or compare something going on today to a simpler world. It often helps us to see the real truth of any matter if we remove what is familiar about it and put the same situation into a different context. I will call these St. Joseph's Fables. We will pretend that these are stories I have heard from the mouth of St. Joseph himself while working in the carpentry shop as his apprentice.

St. Joseph's Fables: to be a Duke

There once was a great king of a vast kingdom who wished to do good for his subjects. Gathering together the most noble men from all four corners of his kingdom, he appointed them dukes. Before dispatching them to take charge of their territories, he held a ceremony in their honor.

"What does it involve, being a duke?" Asked one of their number at the ceremony.

"Well," replied the king with a jovial smile, "it means that I am putting you in charge of supporting the people of your territories. You will protect them, help them to be productive, care about their well-being, and collect the taxes necessary to do all this."

With a look of bewilderment, one of his newly appointed nobles asked, "my lord, that's all well and good, but what is in it for us?"

The king's countenance fell. His jovial smile faded.

"Well," he answered, equally puzzled, "it means that you get to be a duke."

In Latin, there is a specific word, munus, which describes the role of some position like that of a duke. A munus is a gift, but also a duty. It can be used to refer to any number of things, but often was used to describe political offices. In this case, it describes the office of the duke. The king gives the dukes a duty: to defend their people, to take care of them, to collect taxes from them. These are not always pleasant things, and one might balk at the duty. Such a person would ask, "what's in it for me?" The answer is that the duty is also a gift. It is an honor to be able to take care of people and protect them. It is an honor to be a duke. The old saying comes to mind, "a good deed is its own reward."

In the life of the Church, there are also many occasions where the principle of munus could be applied. One such example is the Sacrament of Baptism. It bestows on anyone who receives it the gift of being a priest, prophet, and king, but these are not merely honors, they are also duties. The require us to sacrifice, to reach the faith, and to master ourselves.

Munus can also be seen anywhere there is need for justice. Because justice is defined as the moral virtue whereby I give a person what I owe them, my relationships always demand justice. The relationship comes with a duty: I owe something to the person with whom I am in relation. However, no parent or friend or student (relationships all) can ever rightly complain about spending time with his kids, being a shoulder to lean on for a friend, or having to study - in each of these cases, these duties are also gifts. It is a joy to spend time with ones kids, to support a friend, or to learn the truth. Certainly, it ought to be. "With God's help, [virtues, such as justice] forge character and give facility in the practice of the good. The virtuous man is happy to practice them" (CCC 1810). Virtue, which always involves munus, is its own reward. We ought to be happy to practice it. The duty of practicing virtue is also a gift.

President Kennedy had it only half correct when he said, "ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country." Noble as the sentiment is (and I do love it), the statement is all about how we should see to our duties rather than to the gifts we could receive. It might have been better to say, "ask what you can do for your country, for there is your truest honor of civil life."

The next time you find yourself asking, "what's in it for me?", thinking about the principle of munus and thank God He's chosen to involve you in His plan and in His divine life. You get to be a duke!

Pax et Bonum

The Divine Sense of Humor

2011-03-02T09:21:00.001-06:00

Catholic Phoenix has an amusing story about God's sense of humor this morning.

When I was in seminary, I once woke up with a frog in my throat. Couldn't say much of anything beyond a coarse whisper. I went through my typical routine and up to the chapel for morning prayer. I strained my voice through psalms, grumbling to myself about how I couldn't speak, and this continued right up to the Benedictus. Suddenly, my throat opened and I found myself uttering the words of Zechariah, "Blessed by the Lord, the God of Israel…"

I laughed in the middle of the Benedictus. I thought back to Zechariah's 9-month silence, caused by his lack of faith. I remembered that when he was ready to praise God, "immediately his mouth was opened, his tongue freed, and he spoke blessing God" (Lk 1:64), and the first words he proclaimed were the Benedictus I was praying just then.

God has a great sense of humor.

Pax et Bonum!

Conservativism

2011-03-01T13:05:00.000-06:00

I'm going to admit something that should be quite obvious: I am a conservative. I am a conservative for one simple reason - conservative ideals have stood the test of time.

When I check out the news and find that Elton John is calling for an expanded sex-ed program or that Frances Kissling, head of oxymoronic group Catholics for Choice, is calling for a renewed approach to pushing abortion, one which will accept the fact that medical science is on the side of pro-lifers but advocate abortion anyway, it makes me grateful to be a conservative.

You see, the very nature of conservative idealism is to cling to that which has been done successfully in the past. Now, don't get me wrong. Changing situations sometimes require changing approaches to a myriad of situations, but most things in life remain the same day to day, year to year, generation to generation. The nature of family remains the same, despite the attempts of Hollywood to change it. The nature of work remains the same and hasn't changed much since the Industrial Revolution, although work now comes (generally) with more decent wages, benefits, and hours (for people in business, anyway). The only thing about taxes that has changed is that they always go up and provide less in return. So many things remain constant and we've figured out efficient ways to deal with them. Maybe we should stick to what we've always done and make slow modifications. This seems to be in accord with the humility and simplicity of the gospel life.

Conservativism is also in accord with our Catholic faith in a number of ways. It has a strong correlation to the Principle of Subsidiarity. When we already have effective ways of handling the problems we've always faced, why should a higher-up government agency swoop down to take it out of our hands and do it their way? We can handle it. We have been handling it. Those who try to take it away from us to impose their own way of doing things are really just busy-bodies. They occupy themselves by taking work from others to do it their way. Really, they justify their own existence by convincing (or coercing) folks into thinking that they are "doing it wrong" and that a new way is required to be more efficient, more eco-friendly, more humane. The problem is that it was never inefficient, eco-unfriendly, or inhumane. This is what big government does. It steps in, fabricates a problem, and insists that it needs to come in and make changes. Why? Because the government agencies that do it need to keep themselves around, and so they need to justify their own work.

It seems to me that being Catholic very much involves conservativism. We are a people steeped in tradition, belonging to a Church that has survived longer than any modern nation, which generally takes a couple centuries to address a problem fully. We are prone to conservativism. It is in our blood. Somehow, we Catholics don't see the need for novelty and change. We are doing just fine as we are right now.

Pax et Bonum

Distributism

2011-03-01T09:00:00.001-06:00

The good folks at the Distributist Review have posted an article by Dale Ahlquist of Chestertonian fame. The article is in keeping with the purpose of this blog. I believe St. Joseph would agree with Mr. Ahlquist's findings. Go check it out.

Restoring the Patrimony

2011-02-28T10:54:00.002-06:00

This morning, Taylor Marshall posted some pictures on his blog of St. Theresa parish in Sugarland, Texas. I once had the opportunity to interview with the principal at St. Theresa School for a Latin teaching position. These pictures make me wish I had continued along the interview process. If we'd have moved to Houston, my wife would have killed me!

A part of the purpose of this blog I want to develop is an understanding of restoring and preserving the patrimony of the Church. I'll make a post about that shortly. In the meantime, I have a little project for anyone reading: send pictures of your parishes! Anything traditional! Anything dysfunctionally modern! Any pictures of your parishes, churches you visit, etc. - send them in! Let's see if we can't make a regular thing out of discussing the patrimony of the Church.

What are we handing on?

Pax et Bonum

The Walk of Shame

2011-02-28T07:02:00.000-06:00

In many a parish across the country yesterday evening, hundreds of eyes fixated upon a single unfortunate father or mother walking swiftly down the aisle from front to back. It's called The Walk of Shame.

I've made The Walk many times. We try to sit near the front of our parish, which only makes The Walk that much more shameful. It doesn't help that we Catholics tend to think that all the holier folks sit near the front (we sit there to give our kids something to watch so they can learn the Mass). No matter where you sit, The Walk can be an embarassing experience.

When my children are loud at Mass, I feel terrible for distracting the others around me, but I can't remove the kids for every little peep. I take a few moments to evaluate the situation and might decide for the sake of the neighbors in the next pew to move to the cry room.

Eventually, however, I always have to make The Walk. It's part of a pattern, really. Go to the front so your kids can learn the Mass. Sit there quietly, trying to keep the kids' minds off that wide open area up front, just slightly out of reach. Block your children from the view of younger children, women of all ages, and senior citizens (all certifiable wavers and cooers). Attempt to hush the fidgety child. Finally, as screaming ensues, get up, gather all your things, and move to the cry room as stealthily as possible.

Here are a few of the people you might see while making The Walk:

Distractors - to the detriment of all your neighboring pewmates, there will always be distractors. These are people who distract your child from the Mass, the missal, or whatever you are using to keep them behaved. Children and little old ladies are the worst offenders. There they go, cooing, smiling, making funny faces, and othwise building your child into a sense of entertainment. They believe it is their sacred duty to keep your kid smiling. More than likely, they imagine it is what St. Francis would have done and, by golly, that means they should, too. Inevitably, the homily is over, everyone stands for the Creed, and the offender's countenance becomes serious as they begin to collect themselves to return to the Mass. Of course, this means that your child's source of entertainment has disappeared. Chaos ensues.
Nasties - the opposite of Distractors are Nasties. These are the folks who stare at you with contempt for bringing a child to Mass. They probably think that Mass exists for them and them alone, and at the slightest giggle of angelic joy from your little one, will find themselves shocked and scandalized. Fortunately, the more Jansenist variety of this type is rare. Most are simply overstressed folks looking for a little peace at Mass who don't want to sacrifice that peace. I commiserate with them.
Friendlies - Friendlies are the folks you know from your parish but don't otherwise hang out with you. They're not bad, but they'll always give you a nod of understanding as you make The Walk. To these Simons of Cyrene, I always make a face that pleads, "I'm doing my best!"
MySpots - MySpots are the country club Catholics of the parish. Every parish has them. Heck, I've been guilty of being one from time to time (and a Distractor). These are Catholics who believe they rule with divine right the same pew they've been sitting in for the past 20 years. They are a problem for parishes in general, but beware them if they become attached to the Cry Room. Note: the Cry Room is not a separate environment for Catholics who want to sit in the back and have an alternative discussion-based homily.
Teeny Boppers - Teeny Boppers are the folks who make the over-generalized observation that cry rooms are for children, and therefore for all people of minor age. Suddenly, there is no room in the cry room for children who actually cry. Note: if a Teeny Bopper is the child of two Nasties, you might get angry looks for entering the cry room with, of all things, a crying child. This angers the Nasties, who believe their Teeny Boppers have the right to Mass from the specific vantage point of the cry room and will not give up the seats they are using for their purses to allow your crying child to have a spot (if the Teeny Boppers have Nasties who are also MySpots for parents, all bets are off).
Seniors Citizens - Senior Citizens, for which group membership the sole criteria seems to be the possession of either 1) a Hawaiian shirt, or 2) a Snowman sweater (complete with sequins!), are much like the Teeny Boppers, but believe that since cry rooms are for children and we are all the children of God, then cry rooms are for all.

Please remember these categories next time you have to make The Walk of Shame. Don't forget: no eye contact!

Pax et Bonum!

Liturgical Vigilantes

2011-02-27T16:22:00.000-06:00

Are you frequently troubled by improv night at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass?

Does your pastor go on endlessly about "social justice" but never define exactly what he means or where it fits in the deposit of faith?

Are the chants in your parish prone to sounding like Gilbert & Sullivan's Greatest Hits?

Have you ever used the phrase reform of the reform?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, you may be a liturgical vigilante. Although doctors are still baffled by the exact nature of Liturgical Vigilante Syndrome, LVS may be caused by exposure to Forma Extraordinaria, which shows Catholics just what liturgy should be. Following exposure to Forma Extraordinaria, exposure to poor liturgy may bring LVS out of dormant latency. Symptoms occur throughout the liturgy and may include irritation, headache, nausea, fever, dizziness, interior tourette's, and anxiety. If you believe you may have LVS, don't despair! There is a treatment!

How to Treat LVS
LVS has a two-fold treatment.

Humility - when God Himself is humble enough to put up with bad liturgy, why shouldn't we be? Look, we shouldn't have to put up with it, but if you can be humble enough to seek Him even in the midst of a poor liturgy, you can keep Him in the company of friends. Here's a question for those suffering from LVS: how often do you violate His plans in your pride? Maybe putting up with the pride of others and seeing it through humble eyes will do you some good.
Charity - charity is a funny thing. It requires that we tell others the truth for their own good. Reporting liturgical abuse falls under that. However, charity also requires that we tell the truth in love, with a genuine concern for the good of others. Sufferers of LVS need to remember: no gossip, no slander. Tell the truth about the abuse and don't drag other issues into it.

As a faithful Jew and the Foster Father of Christ, St. Joseph would certainly be troubled by liturgical abuse, but his own response would be humility and charity.

In the future, I'll be writing more about St. Joseph as a protector of the patrimony of the Church, including our liturgical identity. In the meantime, if you suffer from LVS, please remember - humility and charity! You go get those liturgical abuses, Vigilantes!

Pax et Bonum!

Apprentice of St. Joseph

2011-02-27T11:20:00.002-06:00

Well, this is my first post! A few years ago, I had a blog by this same name, but I let it fall through the cracks. That blog was about apprenticing St. Joseph as a father. This blog's purpose will be a bit more expanded: a spirituality of fatherhood, an appreciation for sacred art (in honor of the great carpenter), a little project toward restoring the patrimony of the Church's culture, the domestic church and catechesis in the home, and of course, whatever little comments I wish to make.

I suppose there's no better place to start than with a few details about myself. I'm going to go the mock-AA route.

"Hello, my name is Micah."

"Hello, Micah!"

"...I'm...umm..." *looking around nervously* "...I'm a Catholic!"

*supportive applause*

"I'm a Catholic and I can't keep denying it by the way I live my life. It's only been a few days since my last Communion and I've been craving more ever since!"

*more supportive applause*

"When I graduated high school, I did something shameful...I entered seminary!"

*dramatic suspense*

"The world didn't like it. My peers mocked me. The culture opposed me. I did it anyway."

*supportive applause*

"Then I left seminary. The world thought it had won, but it hadn't! I ran into these odd people called FOCUS missionaries."

*cheers*

"They came bearing Bibles and teaching about God's word and they organized fellowship and helped me connect with other Catholics. I never realized there were other Catholics like myself in the real world who...who...actually agreed with the Church!"

*climactic anticipation*

"I transferred schools again. God kept moving me around. I went to Franciscan University of Steubenville..."

*jeers from Christendom students*

"...hey, I go to the Latin Mass whenever I can! Anyway, I went and did a crazy thing. The voice in the back of my head kept whispering, 'get a theology degree...get a catechetics degree...' So I put aside my eight years of Latin and classics and hit the theology books. I began forming opinions on the balance between ressourcement and aggiornamento, engaging in debates on the necessity of circumlocuting the tetragrammaton, holding spiritual discussions with my roommate late at night on the nature of virtue and how best to strive after humility! I met a beautiful young woman named Jennie. I thought, 'wow, she's smart, she loves God, and she's studying Hebrew! What a woman!' I married her. We've got two kids from just three years of marriage, because we both believe in Humanae Vitae! I mean, we're just crazy, aren't we?!"

*applause, fainting*

"But the thing is...the world says I'm crazy. The world says I need help. The world says I need to come to a group like Catholics Anonymous and get it out of my system. I don't want to get it out of my system! I don't think you do, either! Are you sick of where the world is telling you to shove your faith? I know I am! I know I am. So often, too often, I find myself compromising my integrity as a Catholic. I find myself committing sins because I don't really, fully, completely believe that I owe God my all. I find myself falling short again and again...and I look to St. Joseph. This is a man who disregarded his emotional heartbreak to save Mary's life when he thought she had been unfaithful. This is a man who, at a moment's notice and with total abandonment to divine providence, fled for Egypt to save the Son who wasn't even really the fruit of his loins. This is a man who always did what God asked, with humility of heart. Am I anything like St. Joseph? No."

*thoughtful silence*

"...but I want to be. I see in St. Joseph a model for virtue and manliness. I might have some theological know-how, but that doesn't mean I know Jesus Christ. That doesn't mean I am a friend to God. St. Joseph will show me how to be. He proves to us that what is most valuable, what is most saintly, is going about God's will. It's not how much we know, it's whether we are humbly living it out. St. Joseph knew God intimately. He raised God's own Son. His response is not to puff out his chest and think highly of himself, but to wonder at God's mercy, which would bestow on him so great an honor. I want to be like St. Joseph. I want to be a saint who is unapologetically faithful to God, but out of a humility which does God's will without question, rather than out of boasting. St. Joseph, let me learn from you. Teach me your trade and skill. Make me your apprentice."

So, aside from all that, the essentials:

Name: Micah
Occupation: High School Catechist ("Theology Teacher")
Politics: Catholic, loosely translated "compassionate conservative"

Pro-Life (in every way)
Distributist (economically)
Strong believer in subsidiarity and solidarity
Social doctrine, as all moral life, flows from Christological Revelation

Liturgy: In order of preference:

Extraordinary Form
Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrystostom (but I'm Latin Rite and there isn't an Eastern Rite for hours)
Ordinary Form (very reverent, please)

Favorite Saints & Theologians (no particular order)

St. Joseph
Bl. John Henry Newman
St. Bonaventure
St. Pio of Pietrelcina
St. Josemaria Escriva
St. Francis of Assisi
St. Therese of Lisieux
St. Thomas Aquinas
Bl. John Paul II
St. Benedict of Nursia

So, if you find from my preferences that I am agreeable to you, I hope you will add me. If you find that I am disagreeable, I hope that you will pray for me. If you do not care, good day to you!

I'm going to close my posts for the time being with the greeting of the Franciscans, as I graduated from one of their schools and have a love for them...well, for the more traditional ones...

Pax et Bonum!