What I Wore Sunday, Entry 12

Top, skirt, and cardi: Anne Taylor outlet and clearance; flats: Aldo; purse: thrift store

This Sunday's picture was taken in New Orleans' Audubon Park. Our quick weekend trip was bittersweet, since we were in town for the funeral of my husband's Grandma Marie. We're all sad to see her go, but she had a long and blessed 92 year life. She passed peacefully in her sleep the night of the feast of St. Joseph, the patron saint of a happy death. Seeing so many family gather for her funeral was an amazing testament to her legacy - in fact, her thirteenth great-grandchild was born just this week! The Good Shepherd was favorite devotion, which perfectly suits what a caring woman she was. There were references to that title of Jesus all through Sunday Mass. We were even sitting near a Good Shepherd stained glass window. 

I'm grateful that I was able to know Grandma Marie's kind, joyful spirit and that her generosity helped our married life get started. Her diamonds are in my engagement ring and some of her furniture helped furnish our living room. We flew home today with one of her bayou oil paintings, an heirloom we're excited to hang in our home. 

Sunday we were all emotionally and physically drained, so the Southern Baron and I spent a relaxing day with his parents. After Mass we walked around the park enjoying the sunshine and went out to their favorite Middle Eastern restaurant. Driving around we noticed that the Southern Baron's high school was having their annual bazaar! So we hit up the craft booth for some Jesuit memorabilia and marveled at how young all the students running around in blue and white shirts looked. It was the perfect way to round out a weekend full of reminiscing and celebrating family history.

For more Sunday outfits, visit Fine Linen and Purple!

Look at those azaleas! Why do we live in the frozen north again?

Marriage and the Cross - Hype vs. Reality

In case you missed it, the latest Catholic blogosphere kerfuffle is over how we talk about marriage. It all started with Emma Smith's well-meaning post "Marriage is Hard Work," in which she sadly reflected on some divorcing co-workers who felt like marriage was all up to luck. Then she stated "with complete confidence my spouse will never cheat on me ...because I have a faith and a God who stand behind me in that statement. And I can say that because the love my fiancé and I share is not human, it is divine."

To which some married women said "Are you kidding me? That is not real life." Then other women chided the critics for being mean to youthful idealism. Who is right? I suppose everyone is, in some way. Yes, Christian marriage requires hard work and God's grace, not luck. Yes, we shouldn't become the  "Oh just wait ..." Debbie Downers who pounce on optimism. But no, sacraments don't come with guarantees of future behavior. For better or worse, we still have free will.

A few years ago I went to a college friend's wedding officiated by our wise campus chaplain, who has overseen dozens of alumni marriages and never was one for sugar coated homilies. In his sermon, he literally looked at the couple and told them "This is the hardest work you will ever do." They are no longer together. Likewise I know couples who may have started out in less-than-sacramental circumstances, but grew closer to Christ and have built solid Catholic families. That's reality for you.

Catholics can be so eager to promote the goodness of marriage to a commitment-shy culture that we become an hype machine. I like to call this "OMGJPIITOB!!!1!" syndrome. Civilization of Love! Culture of Life! Save sex for marriage and you can help save the world. Obedience to the Magisterium will result in a blissful love life. All those other people shacking up are just miserable, but you won't be!

This idealistic hyperbole can make us sound like the caste system in Brave New World. "I'm so glad I'm not a Beta. The Betas just use and objectify each other. The lecherous men run off and leave the women "fat, bitter, and depressed" cougars." This casts human relationships in extremes - either doomed total depravity or divinely assured uprightness. Reality is far more complicated than that.

When I was engaged, I approached marriage with naive optimism but also fears of unworthiness. Would God zap me with lightning at the altar because I hadn't "discerned" enough? Would I let my parish down somehow and become a statistic about The Culture? I conflated my wedding with the final exam of being a Nice Catholic Girl. "Happily ever after" would be my diploma reward for graduating with no chastity demerits. Better obsess about my NFP charting and cram more Fulton Sheen essays! In the last stressful throes of wedding planning, I blurted out "I just wish the bishop would give me a dang gold star or something!"

Well guess what? Marriage isn't a fairy tale  that rewards the good - it's an agreement to carry the cross together.  In our very first week as spouses there were disagreements and disappointments and illness. Idealism quickly collided with reality. At first, it felt like God had snuck up and dumped  bucket of cold water on my head. We followed all the rules; this wasn't part of the bargain!

Here's the reality: the sacrament of marriage isn't a guarantee nor is it a prize. Like Baptism and Confirmation, it's an undeserved invitation to grace/ When we receive it, we're embarking on a journey towards holiness. We can either be disillusioned at our own weakness or throw ourselves onto God's mercy, because only He can make us stronger, better. Even though the Southern Baron and I are soul mates in many ways, our love is still very, very human. Meshing our lives together has put a magnifying glass on our weaknesses. Who knew there were so many ways we could hurt or misunderstand each other? I can't predict what flaws and differences will bubble to the surface during future challenges.

Every day, I must choose to love my husband unconditionally, the way God loves him. I must choose to accept God's love and grace too. When my relationship with one of them suffers, so does the other. At the same time, I'm deeply humbled that my spouse offers me unconditional love too. As that same wise priest said in a different wedding homily, a husband and wife don't "deserve" each other, their unique combination of sins and virtues. They don't "deserve" God's love and grace either - but He offers it anyway, every day.

7 VA Quick Takes

Hop over to Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes!

1. Last weekend The Southern Baron presented at a European Studies conference in DC, so I got to see my family AND get my academia fix. Win win!

2.The conference was at the Omni Shoreham, a 1930s brick hotel and historic night life spot that is on the National Register of Historic places. The Woodley Park neighborhood was adorable and the lobby was gorgeous - but there was not enough wi-fi or free coffee. C'mon, grad students cannot live on aesthetics alone! 

3. My favorite panel was one about Europe's new role as a mission field for Christian re-evangelization. Evangelicals from Africa and othe former European colonies are now ironically planting churches in the same nations that once worked to Christianize them. One speaker referenced a definition of this reverse evangelization trend as "meridionalism" - the romantic perception of the global South as a source of salvation for the tired West. 

Meridionalism does appear to be on the rise in Catholic consciousness, especially since the election of a Latin American pope. US dioceses short on priests now import clerics from Africa or South Asia. Are the believers of developing nations our only hope for redemption from "First World" progressive modernity? Or is the modern world enabling a more integrated global Church? 

4. Both sociologists on the panel offered evidence that this trend is far more complex than noble savages. One had done extensive field work interviewing different church groups, and found that missionaries had a complex web of international connections. In her experience, Catholic priests were more blasé about moving from place to place - foreign assignments are par for the course. 

The second presenter was researching the history of American missions in Europe. To his surprise, 1920s mission magazines weren't as concerned about converting Jews as they were about bringing the "true gospel" to the "superstitious" Catholics of Eastern Europe. 

5.  While we were in town, we got to celebrate Brother #3's Confirmation a few days early! St. John was the saint he chose, and he got to receive the Holy Spirit on the feast of his patron St. Joseph. Sweet! 

He's now 14, the same age I was when he was born. How did he grow up so fast?

6. This weekend we made a shorter trip back down so I could attend a friend's baby shower. I met Mary when we were both 14, and last summer we got married within a week of each other. How did we grow up so fast? It was so nice to catch up with her whole family and be back in the Manassas Catholic community. You know it's a Papist baby shower when the attendees include 5 infants, 3 pregnant women, and 2 parish staffers who worked First Communions that morning. 

7.  Because I started my job so suddenly, many of my NoVa acquaintances don't know the details of my NJ-NYC life. It's fun to hear reactions to museum patron antics. Lately my cross has been cranky complaints. Why do some donors act like demanding customers? "If you want to keep getting my $35 donations you better do what I want!" 

The other day someone sounded upbeat on the phone but spouted passive-aggressive insults. "Gee, I thought computers were only as smart as the people who used them!" Listen buddy, at least I'm smart enough to know that generosity and arrogance don't go together. 

So yeah, one my goals for Lent is to work on being patient instead of thinking up all the blistering comebacks I'd like to say. As the Southern Baron pointed out, this is a way to "offer him your coat as well." Respecting other people's dignity when they insult yours - that is the challenge of the Gospel. 

7 Starting Lent Quick Takes

1. As a New Orleanian, the Southern Baron firmly believes that revelry beforehand is a key part of preparing for Lent. One day we'll make it back to the Crescent City for Mardi Gras, but for now we hosted a party for church friends with lots of jambalaya.
   
2. Fat Tuesday ended up being a date night near Times Square. We celebrated junk food by eating dinner at Shake Shack and then killing time at the M&Ms store. At this three story temple to American sugar consumption you can get candies in every color decorated with personalized stamps, or buy everything from t-shirts to baking equipment. But no Jedi candy dispensers - they only carry Empire characters. 



If there's not enough candy for you,
you can go to their rival Hershey across the street. 

3. Then we saw Ian McKellan and Patrick Stewart in Waiting for Godot, which turned out to be perfect for the night before Lent. The bare set was focused on an almost-dead tree, and we both loved catching all the crucifixion references. One of my favorite parts was at the beginning when the two leads debate the different Gospel narratives about the two thieves who died alongside Jesus. "One of the thieves was saved...It's a reasonable percentage."





View from the cheap seats. 

4. On Ash Wednesday we went to 7am Mass before work and got our #ashtags. This is mine after a full day of work. Every year this makes me realize how much I touch my face during the day.
   
   
   
   
5. I love how commuting into the city makes Ash Wednesday such a public holy day. The pastor of the Episcopal church in our town was giving out ashes at the train station. When I asked if I could take her picture, she said "Sure! Only if you take one with my phone too!" Then I told her about my vestment research, and she informed me her current purple chasuble was from Peru.
   
   
   
   
6. There were two other men in my office wearing ashes, and I only had three awkward "There's something on your face" conversations with strangers. My favorite was the young guy in my elevator on the way home. He gave me a concerned stare, and then shot a reproachful look to everyone else in the car.
   Kid: "Really? None of y'all gonna tell her? That she's got stuff on her face?"
   UPS Lady (rolls eyes): "C'mon, it's Ash Wednesday."
   Kid: "Oh, thank goodness. I was worried she ran into a chimney or something!"
   
7. One of my goals for Lent is to read more books and to review more Bible movies. On Tuesday our parish's young adult group is going to see Son of God. I will be sure to report back. In the meantime, here's my first post on Jesus movies if you're looking for some Lent viewing. 

Visit Jen at Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes!

Commuter Show and Tell Purse Dump

Kendra at Catholic All Year did a purse dump linkup recently. I love these things because it's fun to see what other people carry around. Also: material culture! You're welcome, historians of the future. Here's what some ladies of the Twenty-Teens were schlepping around.

This is the random brand, fake leather big bag that I take to work every day. I've mentioned before that I am always on the lookout for functionality in a bag.

I found her on Columbus Day at a TJ Maxx under the Queensboro Bridge. The cross-body strap and multiple interior pockets were key selling points. She's looking a little worse for wear these days - note broken clasps replaced by classy carabiner clips. Also, my black wool winter coat appears to be wearing off on her. A spring/summer upgrade may be in my future.

First, the commuter survival essentials I can't do without.

From top left I have:

• Book to read, currently Well Behaved Women Seldom Make History by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich. The NYPL has the most efficient inter-branch loan systems I've ever seen. All 7 of my holds arrived at once last week so I'm trying to keep up with due dates.
• Wallet, because even with a bag full of stuff sometimes you have to run to Duane Reade or a food truck. 
• Umbrella, because the day you forget it will be the day it pours. 
• Hand sanitzer, because sometimes you have to touch subway poles. 
• NJTransit monthly pass and MetroCard holder so I can get to my office. The Vera Bradley pouch was a thank-you gift from a former intern after I served as a job reference. The plastic holder is a vintage image of Grand Central, because Penn is too hideous to put on merchandise.
• Headphones, because sometimes trains are noisy and you need to tune out the world with a podcast. 
• Staff ID from the Museum's fundraising gala in October. Because I never clean out my purse? 
• Business card holder - the image is a detail of the Roy Lichtenstein mural at the 42nd Street/Times Square subway station. 

Next is all the cosmetic/medical stuff that keeps me from making emergency Duane Reade purchases.

From top left: 

• Cough drops
• Heat patches for when my back acts up
• Tea bags for when I need a hot drink
• Gum for fresh breath
• Bandaids for shoe blisters and for papercuts while rolling 900 Gala poster favors
• Hand lotion for dry winter weather
• Ibuprofen for headaches - I refill it from our big generic container at home
• Hair ties for ponytail emergencies
• Vincent Van Gogh lens cloth from the Carnegie Art Institute gift shop
• Lip gloss - it's poppin'
• Pens and mechanical pencil
• Target generic Lactaid pills, because I am lactose intolerant but still like cheese
• Tissue, because cold season
• Spare pair of socks? Ok
• Fingerless gloves, a random purchase from the street vendor outside my Brooklyn subway stop. Even street urchins like to keep warm while using their iPhones. 

And finally here's the random paper stuff that I removed thanks to this exercise.  

Left to right: outdated train schedule, playbill from seeing a Broadway show with my aunt and cousin, outdated museum children's calendar, notepad for weekly staff meetings.

Not pictured: keys, coffee travel mug, foldable nylon tote bag (it's currently holding 15 posters of Grand Central Terminal) and various lunch tupperware containers. My sweet husband makes me coffee every morning and packs me a lunch so I can get out the door bright and early to catch my train. And then I join the herds of commuters carrying at least one bag across the river and down the tracks.