October 2014 - Kathryn Anne Casey

The Arena

Ah, where was the battlefield? The two stood in the arena. The king removed her distractions, placed her with his other soldiers and asked that she finish the battle here first. Each day in his service was different, but each day was good. Motivated by her love for him she committed herself to the other soldiers. This was the arena.. It was filled with comradeship, but an arena no less. They would fight, even in this short time. To work as a team was difficult. It was so much easier to fight against others. The king gave the description of the enemy. He was in not found in her team, though at times the did hurt one another.

She paused for a moment and looked around. It was cloudy. The hear remained.. The dirt at her feet was dry and loose. The arena was large and circular. Many filled the stands. She stood with the soldiers in the center and looked around. Those in the stands were all of the court. There were a few of the crowd from the outside, either outside the walls or even from the enemy’s side. Many filled the stands. His whispers cheered her on, cheered her team on. It was a different kind of battle. They were committed to finish.

The girl looked up. It was clear and warm, but not without feeling some cold inside, in her fingertips. Her heart was on such fire that it made her stomach hurt. She looked up and caught the gaze of her king as he sat in the stands. His queen was beside him. She was beautiful. She looked like a queen. There was a simple string of pearls around her head that came to a “v” on her forehead, fit for a queen.

The girl had worn similar pearls once. The were an indulgent gift from her loving king.

The battle in the arena was cutting deeper into her. The soldiers were meant to fight as a team, but occasionally someone would make a mistake or miss a signal from another soldier. In the intensity of it all they might lay out insults to each other rather than focusing on standing together against the common enemy. Although there were clear advantages to fighting here, being in the arena made them feel claustrophobic and stuck when the fight grew late into the day. She neglected her duties yet, she was quicker to notice their squabbles against each other. The team was so deep into this battle, it was hard to correct recent or ongoing mistakes, but she had to. They would win, they must. The enemy raged. He shouted and screamed, but could not approach them until the king waved his hand for them to continue to battle. She saw his hand waved. In it lay the wound.

That wound. As she saw it waved, the girl saw the horror and torment he endured for her. She saw the agony, humiliations he suffered for her. That wound: whose blood she longed to catch from falling, that wound.

She would not be beaten. It was the sight of the wound that gave her courage. This was not a child’s love. This was the bloody reality that is love. His true presence remained with her. Her heart was caught up and burned in his fiery spirit. She drew her sword and stood waiting for the enemy.

“Remember that wound,” she heard, “remember, and draw on.”

As they fought the girl saw her king dressed in robes with a crown. She saw his glory and his love radiating. For the first time the girl really saw his face, both noble and full of suffering. The girl took him into her heart. She felt her heart pierced with love.

Even though the king was in the stands and the girl was in the arena, they were not too far apart. He was still looking over her, controlling the battle, allowing it to go and to stop. She pushed herself to remember his presence. Even though she could no longer feel his touch, she felt assured of his love. Before the battle of separation could even begin to rage, he gave her strength.

As the day wore on the stands emptied out. She stood with her fellow soldiers, her family, and waited. The King remained, smiling at their service, gave them a moment’s rest, and waved his hand. The fight continued. There were few were watching now. There remained only the court of the king and the court of the enemy. All other bystanders, as the king wished, were dismissed. That may be how every battle ended, without witnesses, only a girl, her fellow soldiers and the king who protected them, against the enemy.

Reflections on Gift from the Sea: Part Three

Part 3: Below are more quotes and reflections on this section in Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

Words on how now we need never be alone – truer now than ever before. So many distractions, we have endless distractions to keep us occupied. Her writing calms my breathing. I feel I am at the ocean, with the sounds of the waves in the background.

I find there is a quality to being alone that is incredibly precious. Life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid, fuller than before.

I love my work but I feel drained. Drained from being with people all day, from being “on,” from giving and thinking and perceiving. Drained from being in an office, the appearance of which I cannot alter beyond a program poster I find attractive and a little postcard of Van Gogh’s “First Steps.” I come home and although I ache to be with my children, I seek asylum. But then I err. Instead of seeking prayer or reading in order to be truly alone with myself, I go online, pinterest, facebook, hostess with the mostess. I find I am not refreshed.

The need to fill the pitcher to the brim, rather than spill out in driblets.

The artist, naturally, always resents giving himself in small drops.

I feel so selfish. I gave in driblets, again and again. Yell at the child, step away, pray for patience, come back ready to be calm and controlled. Another incident, another whine, another act of toddler resistance, ahem, toddler independence and I fall right back again. I have not thought of this act of allowing the pitcher to fill to the brim.

I believe that what a woman resents is not so much giving herself in pieces as giving herself purposelessly.

I find some comfort in that I do give myself purposely. I am trying to make things better. Intentionality drives me. Putting together the home, creating routine, establishing discipline.
Yet still, I have been purposeless these days. I have felt buried under it all. The constant whining, the battles, the inability to please and motivate.

We do not see the results of our giving as concretely as man does in his work.

I feel this. At work, the impact is very clear. My clients are very open to what we are about. At home, progress is so…so…spiritual, intangible. Beyond maintaining hygiene and decency, I do not feel like I see progress. I hear others praise my child, but feel she gives the worst to me. So it is draining. That phrase makes so much more sense in the context of what the author writes about. Going down the drain. Purposeless, driblets.

Purposeful giving is not as apt to deplete one’s resources; it belongs to that natural order of giving that seems to renew itself even in the act of depletion. The more one gives, the more one has to give.

Yes, I feel that at work, and I feel it with my younger children because it is so easy to delight them. My eldest needs my attention. She needs more purposeful giving. I can get away with driblets with the infant and the toddler, they need only my body (or so it feels) for nursing or reading or play. The boy is so unaware. It takes so little to amuse him. But the eldest, she needs companionship, someone to talk to, to smile at her. If I could just get some time alone with her.

I went to mass today by myself. I entered aching, ready for tears but resistant because I will no longer cry in public, scolding myself that I have a good life, a light cross and no excuse to indulge public tears, making others think, I don’t know, that someone may have died. When the Liturgy of the Eucharist began, my heart opened up. Christ was coming. I felt renewed by the end of it all, albeit not magically.

No longer fed by a feeling of indispensability or purposefulness, we are hungry, and not knowing what we are hungry for, we fill up the void with endless distractions, always at hand—unnecessary errands, compulsive duties, social niceties.

She wrote this in the 1950’s and yet it more true now. We have truly endless distractions. We look for meaning in projects. Or worse, we look for an endless supply of criticisms of self for all the things I cannot do. Have I not engaged in that here? We should be realistic. We should not coddle ourselves. I hate the self-esteem movement. But we should not waste time. We should look at the source.
We need to see solitude as necessary.

Certain springs are tapped only when we are alone. The artist knows he must be alone to create; the writer, to work out his thoughts; the musician, to compose; the saint, to pray. But women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves: that firm strand which will be the indispensable center of the whole web of human relationships.

So what if I allowed myself to heal? What if for one hour a week I took my child out for a coffee (milk in her case) and we chatted as only we ladies can do. What if I finally took the time to go to adoration. I never desired alone time before I had children. I embraced marriage and the constant companionship. I struggled when my husband needed his time alone because I then felt lonely. But I had no project, nothing to create or to love.
I see better now. Now, I say with smile, that I have begun writing again.

The problem is more how to still the soul in the midst of its activities.

I knew reading would quiet my soul, my anxiety. I know it still. Writing, thinking, laying out my thoughts as I have done here, that has really reached into the depth and brought me to life again.

Mechanically we have gained, in the last generation, but spiritually we have, I think unwittingly lost. In other times, women had in their lives more forces which center them whether or not they realized it… their very seclusion in the home gave them time alone…Nothing feeds the center so much as creative work, even the humble kinds…must have been far more nourishing than being the family chauffeur or shopping at super-markets, or doing housework with mechanical aids.

I have never thought of this before and so it amazes me. My husband seeks creative pursuits in all corners: gardening, bread baking, composing, teaching our children. I see his delight in it and understand that he loves to see the finished product. Yet still I never personally derived the same pleasure from those things. My creativity centered more on aesthetics: the home, the flower arrangement, the table setting. With my engagement online I am challenging myself to use my camera properly again, to write poetically again.

We have become the chauffeur. The eldest goes to preschool every day for three hours each day. We take her to and fro. I feel better now that I am using a bike and trailer for some of it. I can see what the author is saying.
Yet still I fear the time alone, the time without distraction because it is so difficult to get my mind to work again. I am sleep deprived. For the fourth year I am sleep deprived. Because of anxiety it is difficult to fall asleep. Because of my nature, being easily stimulated, after 4am it is difficult to stay asleep. Nursing and oxytocin act as a drug to induce me to sleep. Sometimes I cannot fall asleep until I have nursed her. I am sleep deprived. Some days I look for passive engagement. I claim I seek intelligent thought. Perhaps all this time, it is time alone I seek to allow my thoughts to full develop. Passive engagement was only a mere distraction.

She must consciously encourage those pursuits which oppose the centrifugal forces of today… it should be something of one’s own. Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day—like writing a poem, or saying a prayer. What matters is that one be for a time inwardly attentive.

Don’t I seek a magical solution? I think: what if this is it? What is some time alone were the secret to being happy and fulfilled? I know I feel something more complete in my since I began to write more seriously. I am motivated when I see more people following what I write.

This book is opening doors.

I am an extrovert. I was lonely as a child, living in the country, always alone, a latch key child. I wrote, I thought, I imagined. When I did missionary work I discovered so much about myself. I loved to be with people. I was not an introvert but felt energized by company. I was an artist, more at home with host-families in Oregon than my less artistically-inclined, albeit wonderful, teammates.

I’ve taken this for granted. I do not want to do so anymore. Time alone, to think and to write. My first love. I wrote short stories in grade school. I began “novels” in sixth grade. I completed my last work at age 19. But writing has ever been one of my great loves

So here we are, the book and I. Something strange and new is opening up for me. I am excited to reach Part Four.

Tomorrow she and I will have a painting date after preschool.

We need the Cross of Christ: making sense of suffering

We need it all, as Pope Francis’ has said. We need those who are holy and those who are very sick. This is part of gradualism. We need the presentation of the Church as a haven. Too often we see a picture of heaven with angels, clouds and harps. But to some whose hearts have had to harden to survive, this is distasteful. They want reality. What is reality? Reality is a cross. Good Friday is reality. Mass is reality. If we go through life thinking every moment is not imbued with Christ’s passion than we are the one living an illusion. Christianity without the cross is an illusion.

It is the act of bringing the fear of suffering into the one place that makes suffering make sense.

I am not consoled when I am told, everything is going to be okay. Well, I am a little consoled. But then the tribulation comes again…and again…and again. What then? When will it be okay? It is not okay now. When I have heard the legends of other mothers making it through. Then I am consoled. Hearing, “oh, it is awful, but it passes” then I am consoled. I am encouraged to advance, to hold strong. “This too shall pass” my English teacher said to me when with my drivers’ permit, I ran up on the curb with my mother’s car and the tire popped, on her birthday. This too shall pass.

We have to acknowledge the suffering, have to acknowledge that it is painful and hard. I love my job because I feel that so often adults do not acknowledge the suffering of teenagers because it is a sort of developmental suffering compounding some very serious trials they are undergoing. They trust me because I trust them and acknowledge that when they say they are suffering, what they are saying is true.

So why do we try to escape the message of suffering. “And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love.” Perhaps somewhere (maybe in the 1970’s and 1980’s) the message got out there that people will be attracted to Christianity by the witness of our joy. True. But perhaps joy was misunderstood as cheerfulness (God loves a cheerful giver, you know). And with the American can-do attitude, the emasculation of men in society and media, and the over-representation of women in the pews, maybe the concept of joy in the midst of suffering was lost. We were trying to sell something to the people outside of the pews. “Welcome to our Eucharistic Celebration” and all that.

It is a celebration, a wedding feast. But with a happy-go-lucky tune and few references to the unbloody re-presentation of Christ on the Cross during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the image is unfortunately skewed.

Gina Loehr has some important points in her article, “The Passion of Pregnancy.” Perhaps the media would not be so successful at spinning conservative efforts to protect the unborn as a war on women if more recognition was made of the suffering of women who become pregnant, planned or unplanned. Taking a more compassionate approach, walking with the person (as many pro-life groups do), might get us further in the effort to support all life.

I am moved by the articles I read from those who suffer, encourage those who are also suffering. Philip Johnson, a 29-year old seminarian writes an open letter to Brittany Maynard, another 29-year old, who announced her decision to end her life rather than go through the stages of cancer.

Men like Fr. Benedict Groeshel were open about their suffering and the nature of the cross. He did not hide the cross, his willingness to endure it, and his desire to be free of it. That is honesty, and he reached out to countless seekers seeking answers.

The Baltimore Catechism (Q. 636) recognizes two goods of suffering. “: (1) To remind us of the misery that always follows sin; and (2) To afford us an opportunity of increasing our merit by bearing these hardships patiently.”

What is suffering? There is the suffering that is part of life (illness, death, severely cold or hot weather). The Compendium of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (P. 385) puts it succinctly that these seem to be “linked to the limitations proper to creatures.” We are bodily creatures. These bodies have natural limitations. And so we suffer.

Then there is the suffering where we inevitably have the sense that it is unjust: “this should not have happened.” In Christ and in religion, we find some explanation: the evil of sin unmasked in its true identity as humanity’s rejection of God and opposition to him, even as it continues to weigh heavy on human life and history (P. 386). Our actions ripple outward from ourselves and the consequences of one person’s sins, be they material consequences, physical, or psychological consequences, affects the generations that follow.

God is not the author of evil. “God is infinitely good and all his works are good” (P. 375). In the cross he suffered, and in the Resurrection he conquered suffering. We do not need to ignore the cross and have only images of the Resurrected Jesus. If we see images of what he endured, it provides comfort to those in agony, and we know, because we profess it that he lived, he rose from the dead. Each Passion message comes with the Resurrection message.

If a doctor ignores the infection in the wound and thinks only of the wound healed, he will not adequately heal the wound. He must focus on what is bad, always with the healed state in mind. The Catholic Church is a hospital. If we are so self-satisfied, like the Pharisee, than perhaps we avert our eyes from the Cross because we are guilty of sin and making others suffer by our sin. Let us recognize the temptations we fall into, recognize that evil exists and that we all suffer, and then only can can fully appreciate the Resurrection.

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Reflections on Gift from the Sea, Part Two

With a small group of ladies, I am reading Gift from the Sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. We begin by noting the quotes that resonated with us and why. I will share them with you now.

I want a singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core of my life that will enable me to carry out these obligations and activities as well as I can.

This is my desire as well and has been for some time.

I mean to live a simple life…but I do not. I find that my frame of life does not foster simplicity.

I struggle with this. I want a simple, uncluttered life, yet I grew up surrounded by the act and encouragement of accumulation. I want it, but I always want things. I am attached to things. Then I struggle not to condemn myself for that (condemnation was a toxic struggle for me when I was younger). When I read this woman, who I know nothing about, and hear her voice the same desires and the same yearnings in a poetic voice that resonates with me, saying, I am like her, she is like me, and then I hear her say her frame of life does not foster simplicity, then I hear her say “it is okay. You desire it, but it is okay that you do not possess it in the way you think you should.” With the review of just a few pages, she became a comforting mother for me. I did not expect to find that in these pages.

Her description of a life of multiplicity. “And this is not only true of my life, I am forced to conclude; it is the life of millions of women in America.”

What is this? Am I not alone in this longing and in this struggle?

But how? Total retirement is not possible. I cannot shed my responsibilities. I cannot permanently inhabit a desert island. I cannot be a nun in the midst of family life. I would not want to be.

Again I read her example to me and it is a consolation. I would not want to be. It is true. I desire it and yet I do not want it fully. Because I want my shell to be beautiful. She describes her actions to make her “little seashell house” beautiful. It is a simple beautiful. We can be active to do this, but in a simple manner, with that spirit of the sea.

Yet the problem is particularly and essentially woman’s. Distraction is, always has been, and probably always will be, inherent in woman’s life. For to be a woman is to have interests and duties, raying out in all directions from the central mother-core, like spokes from the hub of a wheel. We must be open to all points of the compass…how desirable and how distant is the ideal of the contemplative, artist, or saint—the inner inviolable core, the single eye.

It is something true to woman. And when I read this I feel that I can I see myself more clearly. Yes this is something about me, deep at my core. My interests, my many, many interests which cannot be expressed in a single profession or project. My visions blurs a little less. It is something of woman. And isn’t it? I look around me and see the women in my life in a new light, a little more clearly. This facet of my personality, that it is multi-faceted it not something that sets me apart, but is something that helps me to be part of something greater.

It is not limited to our present civilization, though we are faced with it now in an exaggerated form. It has always been one of the pitfalls of mankind.

Ah how true this is! And now that many years have passed since she wrote this how much more painfully true this is today! We not only have a multiplicity of things, we are enslaved by them, compulsively checking and checking and checking. Bored, and so we check. A dull moment, a thought, a question comes to mind, and so we check. A ping, and then we check. It helps with directions, it simplifies life. But it increases the buzzing and the distractions and harms in the way it is meant to help us. We are even deeper in this sickness than in her day because of our glorious technological revolution.

“To ask how little, not how much, can I get along with. To say—is it necessary?”

Thus I come to the conviction I feel most deeply from this passage. These last words echo in my mind. “Is it necessary?” I read a spiritual exercise online wherein a woman laid out the opposing vision to the woman of Proverbs 31. What stayed with me is the description of the woman who spends the money her husband has earned. I spend too much money. I want things, distractions. I want to take my worth in what I wear. I want to be beautiful. I do acknowledge I enjoy the art of fashion and some things are simply the artistic exercise of putting things together, much like I enjoy in my home or on a table for a party. But if that were all I would be more content than I am…always looking, always distracted, always wanting more.
And with the urge to condemn myself I might have stopped there, but I come back to the act of decorating her seashell home. I do not have to live the life of a nun when I am a wife and mother. Elizabeth Scalia, who I read devotedly, debated over the purchase of a purse and the struggle of desire and materialism. She comes to a conclusion. She purchased two purses. If one were perfect, she would simply return one and keep the other. Neither are perfect, and rather than continue searching for the perfect one, she accepts this. She will use one for summer and one for winter. They have a function. They cannot be perfect. She is not absorbed by materialism feeling they will answer every need.
I have to remind myself it is okay. There is a middle road and that is what I am called to. I am still learning. In a few years I will come back around again and need to hear these words again, because I will have forgotten them once more. To me that is grace, for the author, it is the call of the sea, bringing us back to where we belong. It is a gift from the sea.

The thoughts we’re tempted to

Is anyone done being fascinated by our Holy Father, Pope Francis? I continue to read news outlets attempting to pinpoint him. He truly is a man of the middle road and for those who hold fast to left or right, he is an enigma, and a frustrating one at that.

I think that Pope Francis’ own words at the close of the Synod point to what he is about. And those with the ears to hear, can hear it.

He speaks of joy. Do they think he is lying?

He speaks of temptations. As much as cotton-eared so-called traditionalists want to paint him as a “liberal pope” he speaks openly about the devil and temptations. He calls out the faithful on sins so common we forget how scandalous they are (gossip) and how they destroy our efforts to evangelize by their scandal. The so-called “left” wants the Pope to be their darling, but cries against his silence at not passing sweeping legislation in a Church which is not governed that way at all.

What humors me now is how our Holy Father calls out each of these groups, and indeed all of us, in his words at the close of the Synod. Please take the time to read the full text. Here are some substantial excerpts. He speaks regarding temptations faced during the Synod. There is something for everyone here.

– One, a temptation to hostile inflexibility, that is, wanting to close oneself within the written word, (the letter) and not allowing oneself to be surprised by God, by the God of surprises, (the spirit); within the law, within the certitude of what we know and not of what we still need to learn and to achieve. From the time of Christ, it is the temptation of the zealous, of the scrupulous, of the solicitous and of the so-called – today – “traditionalists” and also of the intellectuals.

– The temptation to a destructive tendency to goodness [it. buonismo], that in the name of a deceptive mercy binds the wounds without first curing them and treating them; that treats the symptoms and not the causes and the roots. It is the temptation of the “do-gooders,” of the fearful, and also of the so-called “progressives and liberals.”

– The temptation to transform stones into bread to break the long, heavy, and painful fast (cf. Lk 4:1-4); and also to transform the bread into a stone and cast it against the sinners, the weak, and the sick (cf Jn 8:7), that is, to transform it into unbearable burdens (Lk 11:46).

– The temptation to come down off the Cross, to please the people, and not stay there, in order to fulfil the will of the Father; to bow down to a worldly spirit instead of purifying it and bending it to the Spirit of God.

– The temptation to neglect the “depositum fidei” [the deposit of faith], not thinking of themselves as guardians but as owners or masters [of it]; or, on the other hand, the temptation to neglect reality, making use of meticulous language and a language of smoothing to say so many things and to say nothing! They call them “byzantinisms,” I think, these things…

Let’s think about these words. There are few who are solely guided by these temptations and nothing more. Later on the Pope recognizes the good will of those involved and rightly refers to these as “temptations.” Everyone has, based on their genetics, personality, beliefs, environment and upbringing, certain temptations they are more likely to fall into than others.

Regarding the first: a logical, faithful, rigorous person may be moved deeply by a love of the Law and logic in our Church’s teaching. So they find the love of God through this path and want to share that love with others. Then creeps in Satan with the temptation…

Regarding the second: one cares deeply and first found God through the open arms of the Church and perhaps specifically through the parish life. He was not asked questions when he arrived, but for the first time in his life experienced unconditional love. His faith is formed and his devotion to God begins. He wants others to know this great love he experienced, this love with no strings attached. Then creeps in Satan with the temptation…

Regarding the third: she works hard. She was raised to believe that the things you love, you work for, and this is how you show your love. Her character is one of strength and steadfast dedication. When she makes a decision she sticks to it. If she falters, it means she was not dedicated or in-love enough. It is hard to understand others who cannot fulfill their commitment. Then creeps in Satan with the temptation…

Regarding the fourth: a seed among the thorns. Perhaps he was raised and works in the secular world. Perhaps he grew up seeing another suffer greatly and never formed an understanding of the beauty in suffering and as the world believes, thinks it must be avoided. His goal is to help people, to alleviate their suffering. This motivates him in his love of God and Church. Then creeps in Satan with the temptation…

Regarding the last: she feels so at home in the Church. She is dedicated to her parish and serves her parish before considering her needs. This is her parish. This is her faith. Perhaps she does not know a lot about the universal Church or the Magisterium, but she knows parish life and knows what it takes for a parish to be successful. Then creeps in Satan with the temptation…

Have any of these failed? No!

Are any of these terrible people who hate the Church, the world, or those in the world? No!

They face temptations, as we all do. We can probably see ourselves easily as one of those. If we don’t, I think we ought to think a little more about it. I experience and sometimes fall into the first temptation. How about you?

We should not despair. The Holy Father continued, “Dear brothers and sisters, the temptations must not frighten or disconcert us, or even discourage us, because no disciple is greater than his master; so if Jesus Himself was tempted – and even called Beelzebul (cf. Mt 12:24) – His disciples should not expect better treatment.”

If that’s not enough, here is a little more:

The is the Church, our Mother! And when the Church, in the variety of her charisms, expresses herself in communion, she cannot err: it is the beauty and the strength of the sensus fidei, of that supernatural sense of the faith which is bestowed by the Holy Spirit so that, together, we can all enter into the heart of the Gospel and learn to follow Jesus in our life. And this should never be seen as a source of confusion and discord.

If you feel confused about his meaning and his vision of the Church, please read the rest. It only gets more beautiful. The Catholic Church is a hospital for the sick. She is precise in her treatment, but can treat at any stage (On Gradualism). With open hearts, let’s seek the truth, and rejoice as our Holy Father does in the beauty of our some times chaotic unity!

The evangelization of culture: Sr. Christina sings “Like a Virgin”

When I first saw a news article about the beloved Sour Christiana singing a cover of Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” this seemed too much to handle. I was deeply touched watching the clip from Italy’s The Voice in which she moves the hearts of the judges, particularly J-AX. It was profound.

I am a fan of religious orders engaging the world with their other-worldliness, like this brother from the CFR’s. After giving up skateboarding to enter, and not touching a skateboard for six years, he is ordered to get one and go to the skate park to reach out to the youth there. What evangelization! The article states, “after spending time within the skaters, he realized they shared a connection: both friars and skaters see themselves as counter-cultural. In their mutual rejection of worldly values, they both stand open to new paths in life.” As with therapy, evangelization falls flat if you fail to engage the person where they are. The evangelist must find a way to walk with the person in order to lead him or her.

To note the artistry of the video of the CFR. My husband noted the use of fire and water in the video of the skateboarding friar. A little baptism symbolism here? He is taking something ordinary, skateboarding, and allowing the spirit to anoint it, to bless it, to make it something holy in order to lead others to Christ. By bringing the light of Christ to the darkness, to the hovels (like Mother Teresa) of underground culture, the friar transforms his activity. Skateboarding becomes a light for those in need.

But “Like a Virgin”?

Sr. Christina says it well that for those who have not seen this song before and its associations, it can be seen as something new. Watch the video here.

To the pure all things are pure. If it weren’t for our culture. For what we know of Madonna and Moulin Rouge (my first encounter of the song, which is, I would say dirtier in its presentation than Madonna’s official music video), would we think in this way? What if it all went according to God’s plan? That virgin being a woman, a woman who has chastely kept herself and marries the man God has set aside for her. On their wedding day they come together. And at the sight of one another it is a moment of wonder, or awe, as God intended it to be. Not tainted, not dirty or risque, but pure, simple, beautiful. Whatever his past, he sees her as new. And they experience the beauty and the love of God through this most generous act.

There is something pure and uplifting when this consecrated sister sings the word “virgin.” She was right to see the beauty in the words. And when she sings them, they are something new. Through her virtue and love of Christ, the avenue of popular music is transformed. We can see a light in the darkness. And taking a song like this, frankly, from a singer like Madonna, to me is a way of laughing at the devil, saying he is powerless. Madonna has made it part of her career to scandalize and more than once in terrible, ugly ways. Now a woman in a habit sings her song and makes it something beautiful.

Transformative engagement with the modern world.

Take it a step further. What is happening for this generation of young people? For the over-achievers, they work and work and work and for what? Mark Shiffman observes the fear he sees in young people: fear of taking risks, fear of getting it wrong, fear of not making it in this world, and more deeply, a fear that in the end, all their efforts are but smoke. When you see the world you’re used to, through the eyes of the consecrated person, and then you see meaning in it, that is the light. That is evangelization.

“The Church grows by attraction,” Pope Francis said. “A light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (Jn 1:5). They are using ordinary things to bring Christ. They are using their bodies. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth; we have beheld his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father” (Jn1:14). How beautifully incarnational.

TRIDUUM (THREE): HE DRAWS ALL MEN TO HIMSELF

The girl felt far away, as though she could not reach him. She could not look. The girl did not dare look. If she looked she would see her beloved hung on the cross. She heard descriptions descriptions, but she could not picture it. This was pain incarnate. The king was there now. Her head was not turned away from him. She could hear his pain in her heart but the girl tried to absent her heart. His mother…where did his mother stand? She stood at the foot. The girl’s head stood only a little taller than where his feet were nailed.

She had to look. This was her king. The past two years she had had so much to do on this day. The girl had walked all day; she did not have time to look. But here she was. The girl’s heart cried out, aching for her for her to only turn her eyes! He was right behind her, closer to the right side than to the left. The girl began to turn in that direction, slowly. Her shoulder first, her head last. She turned. Her head came slowly. Oh God!

Her head hung to the left and her eyes were closed. They opened a little, but squinted at the ground. She fixed her eyes on the foot of the cross. It was covered in his blood. Her eyes raised and she saw his feet with nails going through them. Looking up she saw him in the same agony. She forced herself to keep looking. She wanted to turn away. She wanted to close her eyes. She looked on his body, wracked with pain. The girl’s body shook. Her eyes rested on his arms, his hands, his chest, and finally…and finally, his face. Oh her king! She did not even recognize him!

And, as in that battle, the whole world stood still. He stood tall, bound against the wood, and he looked at her with love, not with a love of consolations but with a love of the cross. Her king was broken in body and in agony. His love was full of pain, but so much the fuller for it. Her king! He was still a king. He would always be, even though she could not recognize him. He would always be: yesterday, today, and forever. He was her king.

When it was finished, the girl was a better servant than before. She saw his great love, his service, his sacrifice, and she understood more than before. And she longed to be his, to love him, and be purified and live on. She was his beloved, his daughter, his sister, and his bride. She belonged to him. And in his love, he belonged to her.

The IPS Model

I thought this was important to share. This model comes out of the phenomenal graduate school I attended.

The Theological and Philosophical Premises concerning the Person in the IPS Model of Integration

THE IPS GROUP1 (TEXT DATE: AUGUST 15, 2014)

This text presents a Catholic-Christian view of the human person as a basis for the psychological sciences. Or more simply put, it is an overview of the main theological and philosophical premises featured in the Institute for the Psychological Sciences (IPS) Model of Integration, which proposes a view of the human person as informed by Christian faith and by reason. The text outlines and organizes the distinctive qualities of complex human nature and the dynamic human person. Its intention is to produce a richer and truer understanding of the person and thus promote more effective therapeutic interventions. An explication of the model, examples of theoretical and clinical applications of these premises, and a set of psychological premises are forthcoming.

Although this text provides theological and philosophical elements for a general model of the person, in actual practice, each human being remains unique. While interpersonal encounters disclose something significant about one’s personhood or identity, each person remains a mystery revealed fully only in the eyes of God. With this proviso, we have developed a synthetic, Christian definition of the person: The human person is an individual substance of a rational (intellectual), volitional (free), relational (interpersonal), embodied (including emotional), and unified (body-soul) nature; the person is called to flourishing, moral responsibility, and virtue through his or her state of life and life works and service; in an explicitly theological (Biblical and Magisterial) perspective, human persons are also created in the image of God and made by and for divine and human love, and, although suffering the effects of original and personal sin, are invited to divine redemption in Christ Jesus, sanctification through the Holy Spirit, and beatitude with God the Father.

1 The members of the IPS Group (Institute for the Psychological Sciences) having participated in this text include: Paul C. Vitz, Craig Steven Titus, William Nordling, Christian Brugger, Philip Scrofani, Michael Pakaluk, Gladys Sweeney, Margaret Laracy, Michael Donahue, Su Li Lee, Steven Hamel, Roman Lokhmotov, Mary Clare Smith, Holiday Rondeau.

Woodland Tea Party-Birthday Party

For my daughter’s fourth birthday party, a milestone in my eyes (goodbye toddlerhood?) I wanted to do something very special for this little girl. Inspired by this crafty and enchanting floral fox birthday party, I decided on a woodland tea party in my parents’ almond orchard.

Armed with orange balloons, pink balloons and a helium tank, the grandmothers set the stage.

Literally. My father moved the dance floor he built for our friends’ wedding two weeks past into the orchard. Brought out some rounds and folding chairs and viola! we have a setting for our darling dear. I brought out my mother’s wedding china (easier since the party was at her house), some rustic orange fabric circles for the centerpieces, and flowers I arranged from two large bouquets my mom acquired at a retreat.

We added little felt fox clips to the center piece, and paper cut outs with a sleeping fox made, by a good friend, at each place setting.

The focal point of the party was our special gift to the girl. A dollhouse!

Plus delicious food. On the menu: granny smith apples, Caprese salad (tomato, home-grown basil, and fresh mozzarella drizzled with olive oil), and a ham with Cajun mayo, pickled vegetables party platter featured in Real Simple.

The cake is a bittersweet chocolate cake, also featured in Real Simple, which we served with homemade pumpkin ice cream. It is decorated with one real homegrown pumpkin and assorted sugar cookies made by my mom.

We served a Citrus Lavender Sage herbal tea, another tea mix and hot spiced apple cider.

The kids had an opportunity to paint birdhouses and play bean bag toss.

After that everyone got balloons and wagon rides!

As the evening progress the white lights were the finishing touch to a perfect evening. A great thanks to all those who made this birthday vision a reality!

A B.A. in Home Economics

What if we brought back home economics courses (culinary design anyone?)? What if there were a degree in home economics. I thought of this some time ago and wanted to share it here today. As a young adult I knew many women who did not attend or finish college because there was never a string enough desire to choose, major in, sweat and bleed for a given career. The work of academics was uninteresting and the labors more costly than their worth. These women took a few classes and then dropped a view classes. Perhaps many times. While they waited, wondering what God would call them to, they continued to pursue the path society laid out as the path of bettering themselves. Their desire to grow in virtue pushed them to consider the question. In their hearts they knew they were called to marriage and called to motherhood. Yet the waiting made necessary by our transient, community-less society made the waiting longer and more difficult.

What do you think? The university I attended required 132 credits (4 credits per typical course). 28 of those credits were specifically major requirements. The list I’ve compiled totals to 135 credits. It it meant to address the who person of the individual who takes them. It is designed to be totally useful for the student who desires to spend his or her career primarily in the home. Music and language courses which fulfill many college requirements are selected to be foundation, so the individual is better situated to help his or her offspring in their choice of music or language studies. Of course, Latin will be no help if the offspring chooses to study Japanese, but by and large, most student seem to choose Latin-based languages. Philosophy courses are selected to help the individual develop a solid belief about the human person and personal growth. As a Catholic program, theological courses are part of every major, and here at selected to direct the individual towards knowledge of the Truth and how to teach it to others. The course of study is lab-heavy, because students in this major are more interested in application than academics. The desire is to have an in-depth approach to an application driven vocation.

Please note: I am not saying any of this is required for being a good stay-at-home-parent. But I think such a course would be enriching and help those who see the advantage of higher education but are not motivated to complete due to a lack of desire for a particular career path.

So here we go:

Philosophy: 12 credits
1. Philosophy – anthropology and virtue focused
2. Logic, include research methods/evaluation
3. Rhetoric, include leadership/organization skills
4. World Religions (a survey of various cultural worldviews) = diversity component
English: 8 credits
1. English (literature)
2. English grammar and composition
Foreign language: 12 credits
1. Latin 1
2. Latin 2
3. Latin 3
Mathematics: 8 credits
1. Applied mathematics: algebra and geometry (no imaginary numbers here)
2. Financial planning
Religion: 12 credits
1. Theology
2. Catechetical studies
3. Gender studies = historical overview, Catholic perspective – 2 semesters
Psychology: 16 credits
1. Early childhood education
2. Child development
3. Cognitive-behavioral psychology (psychotherapy)
4. Marital and family therapy (relationship enhancement therapy) with lab
Music: 8 credits
1. Music Theory 1
2. Piano 1
Application courses: 59 credits
1. Nutrition
2. Health – with CPR certification
3. Etiquette
4. History of design, include basic art introduction
5. Interior decorating with lab – 5 credits
6. Woodworking lab – 5 credits
7. Basic home repair lab – 5 credits
8. Auto shop lab – 5 credits
9. Sewing lab – 5 credits
10. Culinary arts 1 – 5 credits each
11. Culinary arts 2 – 5 credits each
12. Agriculture for the family farm (square foot gardening, eco-friendly practices)
13. Horticulture for the family farm

I’d love to hear your thoughts!