Facing my own shame.

Tonight I was dropping my husband off for a “guy’s night.” It’s always a really anxious thing for me and it drives my husband nuts that it has to be that way—sometimes to the point of real anger with me about it. He thinks, I believe, that I’m projecting some blame on him for how my ex-husband abused my anxiety with his drinking habits. It’s a recurring wound between my husband and I. But it’s really about anxiety. I’m getting better about it, slowly and with lots of prayer, but it will always (always) be there. How I handle it is the key component.

The Pope is not President.

I have a brief politico-religious rant to rave, that’s been on my mind for a few weeks. It began on Facebook, as do most recent debates. An ultra-conservative, non-Catholic friend, M—, posted about some of the great happenings by Pope Francis until Francis published Evangelii Gaudium, the apostolic exhortation which includes parts that mention social inequality in income and poverty levels, among other things. 

Update and semester recaps

Just a brief update, as I logged on and realized it had suddenly been five months since I provided any sign of life. And if you keep track of substance, probably closer to a year.  I have lots of meanderings to share, but limited in time.  Work and academia take my attention from the love I have to writing, momentarily, in addition to the joys of marriage and the upcoming joys of motherhood (more on that in 2014). Much to comment on socially: legal rulings, Pope Francis, amazing conversions, etc. All in due time, I suppose.

I also realized that I hadn’t provided a semester recap in the Spring 2013 and as I’m on the eve of

A pathetic love letter to my husband on the occasion of our wedding.

To my love, I—:

Before I met you, I would frequent an adoration chapel and pray (sometimes, er…often, cry) before the Eucharist. The Christ and I would have a conversation. I’d do the talking, he did the listening. And occasionally I might shut up enough to actually discern what He had to say.

“In Catholicism, there is no right or left but only orthodoxy and error.”

Today, Pope Benedict XVI announced his resignation from official duties effective Feb. 28. I am both saddened and somehow profoundly proud of this pope for doing so.

The pope will be 86 years old this year (b. 1927). To recognize and publicly acknowledge the limitations of old age is admirable. In comparison, it was heart-wrenching to watch John Paul II deteriorate before the public eye. But for someone who is charge of making such impactful and long-lasting decisions on the future of the Roman Church, it seems better, in my opinion, to gracefully admit that the Church needs the strength of someone who can make the decisions that will impact over a billion people for many years, even centuries, to come.

Benedict XVI (Joseph Ratzinger) is an eloquent writer, among my favorites of all time. He possess such clarity and brevity to take a complex concept and arrive at a simple rationale like no other theologian I have read.

An example of this is in my favorite quote of his: “The highest truths cannot be forced into the type of empirical evidence that only applies to material reality.” I still have to re-read that quote three or four times before I understand the profundity and precision reflected in that single statement. I mean, years and years of philosophy and theology courses on my part. . . and he simply sums it up in a single sentence. I will miss this aspect of Ratzinger most of all as he contemplates a prayerful life in retirement.

In an op-ed piece on CNN.com today, writer Timothy Stanley wrote, “In Catholicism, there is no right or left but only orthodoxy and error.” I only wish I could have summed up Pope Benedict XVI and the Roman Catholic Church in this light. So many people today quite blindly criticize the Church for refusing to waver to modern culture because it holds on to the one thing that has kept it around for all these years: Tradition. They don’t seem to understand that if the Church ignored Tradition, it would lose its own identity. Benedict XVI held onto to this principle strongly; it is extremely vital that all Catholics hold on to this principle. And if anyone expects the next pope to change, they will once again be disappointed by their own misunderstanding.

 

How merciful God is when it comes to second chances.

Two and a half years ago, I was blessed with a second chance. At the time I divorced, my faith sustained me, although I can’t say I didn’t have my doubts. I knew my vocation was for family life, but I was suddenly without a family. But six months or so after my divorce was finalized, I “met” a man who has changed my life.

What I learned this semester (Fall 2012)

I’m in the habit of updating those who are genuinely interested in my graduate studies, I figured I’d update this blog once again with my enlightenment near the end of 2012.

Toasting to conscience first.

This semester, I have had a great privilege in studying two great minds of the Catholic Church, though I didn’t realize how much at the time I signed up for my course. The first is Cardinal John Henry Newman (1801-1890) and Lord John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton, “Lord Acton,” (1834-1902). Newman, of course, recently beatified by the Catholic Church and he is widely read and studied, although I would say that the study of his work is chiefly among clergy and not enough among the laity. Lord Acton was a great historian and devout Catholic layman, although controversial at times. One of the clerical side, one for the lay side, both extremely influential in the Church, but neither of whose ideals would be realized until the twentieth century.

I am by no means an expert on their lives, nor would I be able to fully represent the impact of their thoughts and ideologies on the whole of Church history in my little blog project, but I want to share my own reflections regarding how the study of the lives of these men made me think.

Reflections in preparation for the Year of Faith

How to deal with dates? Yesterday was one of those dates that used to have meaning for me—it was the date of my former wedding anniversary. Of course, having been divorced (and annulled) for almost two years now makes me wonder why I even notice it. I’m a little taken aback by the power of such trivial things like a date. Perhaps it’s the

A quote for thought.

I’m reading a biography on John Henry Newman and discovering his awesomeness of the written words. Before his conversion to Catholicism from Protestantism, he wrote in regards to Christian apologetics (1825):

“The rejection of Christianity to arise from a fault of the heart, not of the intellect, for a dislike of the contents of ScrIpture is at the bottom of unbelief: Hence the most powerful arguments for Christianity do not convince, only silence; for there is at the bottom that secret antipathy for the doctrines of Christianity, which is quite out of the reach of argument.”

Also, I was reading about how Newman was greatly influenced by various fellows in his education and pastoral ministry. In a turn of his Evangelicalism, he was reminded that Christians are not two different kinds:  those who are in name only versus those who are “true” Christians. Rather, just as St. Paul never distinguished between Christians who act like it and those who call themselves such, so preachers should not either. It is OK to rebuke the bad actions of people. It is not OK to assume that bad behavior makes one less a Christian than another, even if the action is scandalous to the faith.

This last piece is the part I have to work on most. I must always remember: Christians do not vary by kind, only by degree.