What Should Catholicism Call Me?*

Coming soon to a field trip near you. 

One of the great perks of my visitor center job is the people watching. Every day is a parade of different groups: family reunions in matching shirts, busloads of 8th graders, Buddhist monks, all manner of foreign military officers, middle-aged European couples in matching sweaters, Portuguese medical students in capes (??), Asian tour groups following their guide waving an umbrella, Congressional interns in questionable "businesswear.".My favorites, though, are the fringe religious groups whose outfits give them away. I can't help it, I am an American religion nerd. Mennonite head coverings, Pentecostal long denim skirts (plus the occasional big hairdo), or Orthodox Jewish prayer shawls and yarmulkes make me positively giddy when they come through the door.

Why do I want to run up and become BFFs with these people who follow strict dress codes? Is it because they have big families like mine? Or because I know I can speak their scriptural language to some degree? I think the main reason is how they wear their faith on their sleeves, literally. It warms my heart to see people unafraid to wordlessly advertise that they don't quite fit in with contemporary American culture. And, let's be honest, it's also good to know that no matter how counter-cultural my Catholicism is, there is always someone out there with stricter rules to follow.

At work I'm supposed to be bipartisan, impartial for visitors. You can't see my scapular or miraculous medal under my uniform blouse. Most visitors don't understand my enthusiasm for statues of Jesuit missionaries. Unlike my last job, I don't go to holy day Masses with the CEO. For a while I tried not to come on too strong. But after three people assumed I was Jewish (it's the hair and Levite last name), I figured I needed to come clean. News flash, everyone: I am 75% shiksha and a proud Papist.

Since then I've been very cautious about how my actions reflect on my religion. Am I kind enough, joyful enough? I worry about this in Catholic circles too. My family goes to a Latin Novus Ordo Mass and know obscure saint trivia like the back of my hand. Still, calling myself a "Trad" feels wrong - I like too many "guitar Mass" folk hymns for that. How will people know what I believe? How should I label myself?

This is silly, really. If you believe something, it will show. When co-workers ask, I gently explain that no, The Bethrothed and I don't plan to "get a place together" until we're married. I mention church in my weekend plans. I've had great conversations with Jewish and Muslim coworkers about what their faith means to them. A Methodist who teaches Sunday school congratulated me on our recent new saints. Gradually, I've figured out who the other cradle Catholics around work are. They don't share my Blessed Junipero Sera fandom, but that's ok.

Otherwise I don't butt to inform people that I disagree with their morality. If people are very set in their opinions, it's not worth instigating a water cooler brawl over assisted suicide or abortion in cases of rape. We deal with enough belligerent members of the general public. My prayer is that  I can represent well the communion of Saints to which I belong. I want to leave people with the impression that I trustworthy, principled and kind. Maybe then I can help change their confused impression that the Catholic Church is out to control their lives, not love them.

Saints of the British Isles

*H/T to the hilarious Tumblr blog of that name. Happy All Saints Day, everyone!

7 Quick Takes, Summer Break Edition

Thanks to Jen at Conversion Diary for hosting!

1. It really feels like summer break has started. My sister is home from college, my temp job has ended and I have ton of free time, and Brother #2 has finished his master's thesis. Let the movie marathons and outdoor frolicking commence! In the morning, I'm making waffles. 


2. One of my goals for my time off is to work on the church architecture research that I hope to publish. There are so many interesting new churches with traditional flair in the Arlington diocese. 



St. Raymond of Penafort, one of favorites from my last round of photography. 



3. The Betrothed and I have set our wedding date! June 15, 2013 will be exactly 3 years and 10 months since we met on the Feast of the Assumption.  


4. Before I started all this marriage paperwork I had no idea how Catholic churches keep track of their membership. Did you know that the parish where you were baptized keeps the official record of all your sacraments for the rest of your life?  The archival nerd in me is excited about how nationally organized this is. So I had to call a church across the country in Arizona where I have not been in 26 years. "Ok we'll call you when your baptismal certificate is ready and you can pick it up!" Umm, yeah, about that. 


5. Speaking of wedding prep, I signed up for Weight Watchers online this week. Cliche bride activity, I know. But I have a big goal to reach, and it's nice to someone else calculate things for me. Anyone have advice about how to succeed with the program?


6. Last week I went to the Young Professional's Happy Hour at the Catholic Information Center downtown. It's a bookstore and chapel run by Opus Dei, and it has by far the best Catholic book selection I've seen in the area outside of a shrine gift shop. As an added bonus, Dr. Helen Alvare was the speaker. She pretty much knocked my socks off with her legal arguments about religious freedom. I kind of want to be her when I grow up. Listen to a podcast of her talk here - you will not be disappointed. 


7. Thank you for all of the great comments on my post about being underemployed. It's good to know other people are dealing with the same challenges of trusting God's plan. Speaking of which, while wandering from the Metro to the CIC, I passed this banner on a Christian Scientist building. It made me smile. 

Seven Quick Jesus Movie Takes

For this week's linkup to 7 Quick Takes at Conversion Diary, I thought I'd mix it up and do some short movie reviews. Religious films are a mainstay of my family's Lenten season, and it feels like I've seen dozens of cinemative Jesuses over the years.
Putting the Gospels on screen is a daunting task, since the 4 Evangelists didn't give us much narrative detail. Also, there's a lot to live up to. How can an actor portray the Son of God, who is all things to all men? Does the man on screen match our own imaginings of Christ? Yet filmmakers and audiences return again and again to the well known story. It's probably because we wish we had been there, and film is the closest we'll ever get to time travel.

So here are some of my favorite imaginings of the past, in semi-chronological order.

1.The Robe (1953) 

Marcellus Gallio is a bored, dissolute centurion until he crucifies Jesus and the memories haunt him. He decides to track down his runaway Greek slave Demetrius, who became a Christian and possesses Christ’s robe. This is an action-packed yet spiritual costume piece. Brother #3’s teacher showed it in class and all the 5^th graders were hooked. Fun fact: the first film released in Cinemascope.

Pros: The people Richard Burton’s Marcellus meets on his quest for Demetrius are an excellent representation of Christian community. In the second act, the film deals with martyrdom as Burton returns to Rome to hang out in the catacombs and challenge Emperor Caligula. Redemption, miracles, courage. Also Richard Burton being Richard Burton.

Cons: Richard Burton being Richard Burton – it can get distracting. His swooning girlfriend is annoying too.

Notable performances: Victor Mature gives Demetrius an air of quiet dignity, while Caligula gives Richard Burton a run for his money in the dramatics department.

Favorite Scenes: Marcellus meets St. Peter, who shares about betraying Jesus and then basically hears his confession. I also really like the crippled girl who teaches Marcellus about the redemptive value of suffering.

Jesus rating: 4 out of 5 He’s never really visible, but still very present. You can see why the other characters find him so compelling.

2. The Greatest Story Ever Told (1965)

The original all-star cast Jesus epic, based on a book by Fulton Ousler.

Pros: Old Hollywood epic scale, plus cameos by nearly every actor working at the time. Sidney Poitier as Simon the Cyrene? Why not. George Stevens arranged each scene like a painting, making dramatic use of light and color.

Cons: The desert landscape is pretty obviously Arizona. There’s a surprising amount of artistic liberty in the plot, like the random Temple massacre that leaves you saying “Huh?” The carefully arranged set pieces can feel like the set of a school play.

Notable performances: Charlton Heston is a no-brainer to play firey John the Baptist. There’s also John Wayne’s infamous “Truly this man was the son of Gawd.”

Favorite scenes: Jesus heals the man born blind, who remembers knowing Him as a child. In the temptation scene Satan is a wiley old guy hanging out in a cave. Mary Magdalene travels with the disciples after her conversion.

Jesus rating: 3 out of 5. Max von Sydow is nice enough, but seems too calm and unrumpled.

3. Jesus of Nazareth (1977)

Franco Zefferelli’s longer, more star-studded version of the Jesus epic. This is the Easter time cable tv special I grew up with. (Seriously, I can recite entire scenes of dialogue.)

Pros: The miniseries format allows Zefferelli to expand the Nativity story and really flesh out characters, especially the Apostles and the Sanhedrin. Miracles and preaching get extended sequences too.

Cons: It is reallllly long. The plot loses steam in the final hour, relying on fictional scribe Zerah (Ian Holm) to explain Jesus’ arrest. The final resurrection is anti-climactic.

Notable performances: It’s really hard to pick from such a killer cast, but Peter Ustinov and Christopher Plummer are very entertaining Herods. James Farentino and Michael York and the reasons I love St. Peter and St. John the Baptist.  You also won’t forget Anne Bancroft’s Mary Magdalene, who chews up the scenery on Easter morning.

Favorite scenes: Jesus tells the story of the Prodigal Son at a party thrown by tax-collector Matthew; it inspires Matthew to abandon his decadence and reconcile with Peter. The last episode has extended scenes in the Temple, where Jesus argues with Pharisees, preaches to children, and even meets Barabbas.

Jesus rating: 3 out of 5. Amidst such a stellar crowd, it’s hard for Robert Powell to stand out. His Jesus has Shakespearean gravitas, but also detached otherworldliness. As my middle-school math teacher quipped “Half the time he looks like he’s stoned.”

4. Jesus of Montreal (1989)

When a motley troup of Montreal actors puts on an unconventional Passion play, church authorities are skeptical but the cast find their lives transformed. Actors begin to emulate the characters they portray.

Pros: I learned about this film when a professor showed it for extra credit, and was amazed at what it said about compassion and how God can work through sinful humanity. It addresses modern life with critical eyes. Also, it’s fun to try to catch all the Biblical allusions in the plot.

Cons: Just a general disclaimer that adult maturity is needed. There’s some iffy 1980’s theology and biblical criticism in the play’s script. Also, the film is honest about the characters scandalous pasts, but that raunchy film dubbing scene was pretty gratuitous. In true European cinema fashion, there are some very brief flashes of non-erotic nudity. Basically, you might not show this to your Sunday school class, but your young adult Bible study could get a lot out of it. FYI there are subtitles.

Notable performances: Gilles Pelletier as Fr. Leclerc, the jaded priest who needs ministering to himself.

Favorite scenes: “Money changers in the Temple” – when one of the actresses is mistreated while auditioning for a skeezy beer commercial, Daniel/Jesus takes matters into his own hands. It’s a powerful testament to human dignity. The final scenes in a train station are also incredibly moving.

Jesus rating: 4 out of 5. Daniel’s performance really makes you think about Christ’s suffering and selfless love.

5. The Passion of the Christ (2004) 

Mel Gibson’s controversial film depicts only the final day of Jesus’ life, laced with some important flashbacks.

Pros: The intense scenes are ripe for theological discussions about the ugliness of sin and the sacrificial nature of the Eucharist. The film’s steady, even pace invites a meditative mindset. The dialogue is only in Aramaic and Latin, forcing viewers to concentrate more closely. (Plus it lets you practice your high school Latin, or maybe that’s just me.)The soundtrack is exquisite.

Cons: There was hope that this would be a great evangelical tool, but without any contextual understanding non-believers are just turned off by the gore. Even for devout Christians it can be excessive, and some of the most horrific parts come from private revelations, not scripture. I think I can have a meaningful Good Friday without Gibson’s signature spurting blood for shock value.

Notable performances: Maia Morganstern is hands down the best virgin Mary I have ever seen on film. Her heartfelt yet understated performance actually made me want to pray the rosary.

Favorite scenes: There are many great vignettes: Mary watching Jesus fall, flashbacks of their life in Nazareth, the final Pieta shot. A defeated Satan and a triumphant resurrection give the story the dramatic conclusion it deserves.

Jesus rating: 5 out of 5. It’s clear that Jim Caviziel put his heart and soul into this role. In the flashbacks especially, his Jesus is joyful, loving, and sincere.

6. The Miracle Maker (2000)

An animated take on the all-star epic, told through the eyes of Jairus' daughter Tamar. This is what I'm sending my godson and his sisters for Easter this year. 
Pros: This animated film is approachable for kids, but still interesting for adults. Tamar's central role gives the narrative a family focus, and shows how Jesus inspired his followers. Claymation gives the film a great physicality, while flashback and parables in regular animation allow for some creative storytelling.
Cons: Stop motion animation isn't for everyone (even though it should be.) Mary Magdalene being freed from 7 demons might be too scary for very young children.
Notable performances:  Really great all around. The all-star British cast was actually in the same room when they recorded dialogue, so there is a real conversational tone. I liked how John the Baptist had a Scottish accent, showing his nonconformity.
Favorite scenes: When Tamar falls very ill, Jairus has to decide if going to Jesus is worth the wrath of his synagogue colleagues. I won't spoil the road to Emmaus scene, but it's wonderful. 
Jesus rating: 5 out of 5. He's confident, compassionate, and friendly.  We even get to see Him doing carpentry work and weeping at the death of John the Baptist.  Tamar has a real relationship with Him; she's not just a prop in the "suffer the little children" scene. Ironic fun fact: Ralph Finnes previously did biblical voice acting as pharaoh in The Prince of Egypt.

7. The ultimate Jesus film has yet to be made, and probably never will. Movies will never completely replicate the real thing. What really matters is how each of us individually relates to the Gospel story. The Church has a long tradition of live theater to help us mentally place ourselves within the Passion drama. This Holy Week, go to Stations of the Cross or the Liturgy of the Lord's Passion, and connect with the real Jesus, who lives beyond the movie screen.

(Update: This afternoon The Pulp.It featured this post in their daily digest of Catholic blogs. If you've come here from them, thanks for visiting!)
(Another update: holy schlamoley, New Advent featured this too! This has pretty much made my week. If I've left out a favorite film of yours, please leave a comment about it. I'd love to review a new set of films next Lent.)

All images are from Amazon.com

And so Lent begins

I was born on an Ash Wednesday, and the day often feels more like a new beginning than my actual birthday. It's really the most refreshing holy day - it forces you to stop what you are doing and really assess the type of person you want to be. I'm all bogged down in mid-semester busy times, feeling like my life is getting out of control and wondering if I am doing anything right at all when BAM - here comes Ash Wednesday to remind me that there is a spiritual reality beyond today. That there are things more important than creature comforts and the luxury of cable tv. That nobody is perfect - in fact, we do bad things sometimes. That God is merciful, and that there is joy beyond suffering. That God made us "to know, love, and serve Him in this life, and to be happy with Him in the next." All He wants is for us to offer Him ourselves with all our confusion, weakness, and unhappiness.

My resolution for Lent is generally to be more mindful of these things. I won't keep the TV on mindlessly in the background; in fact, I won't watch Glee or Pretty Little Liars at all. I won't read so many fashion or pop culture blogs. I'll go to two daily Masses a week. I'll read more spiritual books.I'm actually a little excited to de-tox from the world. (The Beau shares my enthusiasm for Lenten self-improvement, just reason #457129 why I love him.)

Goodness knows I need fewer distractions right now. After getting ashes on my forehead, I'm spending the day with embroidered vestment motifs, and then art of colonial Spain, and then Hudson River Valley paintings. I'm awfully fond of the purple and black vestments in my thesis right now.

How about you? Do you like Ash Wednesday or dread it? What are you giving up this year?

Accomplishment

After all my award acceptance speech pondering this weekend some very good things happened to me. Things that made me feel about as happy as if I had one of those gold statuettes in my hand.

First, thanks to Blogger's very addictive stats counter charts, I discovered that I set a new record for page views in February - over 700 hits! This is all thanks to you, readers, and I'm about as excited as if I won the lottery. Your comments and visits really brighten this weary grad student's day. Maybe one day we'll even break 1000...

Second, I completed a marathon late night thesis writing session fueled by hummus, pita chips, and some stale Valentine marshmallow peeps. When I came up for air at 3am, I discovered that I had churned out 12 whole pages. I'm really starting to feel like a writer now. Only one more section to go, and then I'll have a decent draft to work with. Just one step closer to my graduation/thesis presentation/awards speech.

The last thing was a complete surprise, and one that testifies to the power of grace more than my own abilities. On Sunday I got a Facebook message from an college friend who had worked with me at history camp one summer. We'd exchanged a few emails since then about what we were doing after graduation, but otherwise weren't really in touch. Anyway, this lovely girl, now a wife and new mother, was writing to say that she had been received into the Catholic Church, making her Confirmation and First Communion this past weekend. She was thanking all the people who had helped her along her journey and shared their faith with her.
I can't remember the last time I was so touched by an email. I'm so happy for my friend, and happy that for at least once in my life I helped bring someone closer to God. So often I wonder if I am witnessing to my faith as well as I could, if my dual existence in Catholicism and academia is even possible. That note was a reminder that it's all in God's hands, even the results of a few conversations in a humid undergrad dorm one Williamsburg summer.

Oh, speaking of Williamsburg, I'm going there tomorrow! My class is going to visit the trade shops and attempt to imitate the accomplishments of pre-industrial craftsmen like these guys. From what I have seen of my carpentry skills, the results will not be so award-winning.

Book Review - Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage by Elizabeth Gilbert

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This book is a sequel of sorts to Eat, Pray, Love. Elizabeth Gilbert is on another odyssey, this time hanging around south Asia while waiting for US immigration to approve her marriage to a Brazilian man. She met Filipe in Bali at the end of her previous book. Both were divorced and reluctant to get hitched again, but restrictions on temporary visas made the decision for them.

If you think marriage is a profound sacrament, or even just the building block of a healthy society, you will find yourself disagreeing with Committed. To be fair, she told us upfront that she is a skeptic. She’s also quite honest about the independent individualism that modern Americans consider their birthright. How dare a government or church tell her what to do? Refreshingly, though, she admits that much of the world happily functions without this mindset, and that she's often grappled with feeling unfulfilled.

Gilbert read up on the history of marriage during her year of skepticism, but  I found myself yelling “Where are your footnotes, woman?” and grumbling about irresponsible use of anecdotes. Also "How could you not know that emotional intimacy with a person-not-your-spouse can lead to an affair???!" And "Women are the ones who have babies. Parenthood requires sacrifice. Get over it."  And finally "Just marry the guy already!"

But that’s really the appeal of Gilbert’s writing; reading her words is like hearing a friend tell you a story. You are privy to her personal life and feel like you can engage with it. I could even identify with some of her apprehensions about commitment and motherhood. Does raising children really require women to "scrape bare the walls of their own souls"? Can we change our minds all the time and still make a lifelong commitment to someone?

The stories about her relationship with Felipe were more encouraging. That’s when Committed is at its best, telling a story about two people in love trying to make a life together. Besides the whole immigration approval with nomadic lifestyle thing, they had to learn to balance different cultural backgrounds and traveling styles. Her field trip to Cambodia while he read mystery novels by a pool was a nice reminder that your relationship is not doomed if you have some different ideas of fun.

 

It was also interesting to see how Gilbert finds a solution for our modern, post-marriage society. She starts to view marriage as a form of social rebellion. Sure, governments and churches may regulate it, but that is their feeble attempt to control the coupling that would happen no matter what. Couples say vows and sign paperwork, but then, as Felipe put it “We go home and do whatever the hell we want.” Every home is its own little society, and no amount of laws can completely control what happens in those homes.Marriage (and children) implies that you value a particular relationship above the wider community.

In the end, though, Gilbert is willing to admit that her marriage is not an entirely private matter. She realizes how much her family wants to be able to witness her and Felipe’s exchange of vows. She jumps through all the US customs hoops. And when all is said and done, she finds that public commitment to the man she loves was nothing to fear. That alone could calm a few other skeptics.

Edit: Elizabeth Gilbert's personal website reveals that Committed was just released in paperback with the subtitle changed to "A love story" implying that she is still living peacefully ever after.

Winter Break Book Reviews

Here's what I've been reading for fun before classes start.

The Omnivore's Dilemma - Michael Pollan

There have been many recent exposes of the food industry, but Michael Pollan's is by far the best. It's not a polemic (although I hear he's written those too). It's a surprisingly balanced and realistic, admitting that its ideals are also difficult and impractical. Pollan takes us through "a natural history of four meals" that exemplify four means of food production. We see a McDonald's meal produced by conventional farming; organic roast chicken and vegetables from a Whole Foods; a chicken dinner dinner all grown on a sustainable small farm; and a pork/mushroom that resulted from training as a hunter/gatherer. Along the way we learn about FDA regulations, food subsidies, the evolution of the corn genome, and Peter Singer's persuasive but flawed writings on animal rights.

It's appropriate that I read this book on my epic airport adventure, being herded like cattle through security gates. While I don't always buy organic or free-range food, I feel like knowing is half the battle. We can still understand our food even if we never visit farms or slaughterhouses.My food restrictions require me to pay close attention, but that's also why I do goofy things like photograph my salads. Pausing to thank God for a meal couldn't hurt either. 

Pollan frequently invokes the natural balance evolution has determined, making his account is also an unwitting testament to the complex beauty of God's creation. Could it be that we have tried to circumvent God's wisdom with our chemical fertilizers and synthetic vitamin supplements? The book's very title points to the blessing and curse of human nature. When you can eat or do anything, how do you determine what you should? Pollan's dilemma is one that we've been struggling with even before we left Eden.

Girl Meets God - Lauren Winner

Raised by a Jewish father and lapsed Baptist mother, Lauren Winner went through two conversion processes. Her freshman year at Columbia she became an Orthodox Jew. Still, a fascination with Jesus persisted, and she entered the Anglican church while studying for her master's at Cambridge. This book reflects on the process of both conversions, and the challenges of building a meaningful life in one's new religion. Following the course of  a liturgical year, the story celebrates aspects of both Judaism and Christianity, showing how they are connected. There is some typical new convert fervor - she covers her bedroom wall with images of Christ - but there is also  family tension and continuing catechesis.

True confession - part of me wanted to hate Lauren Winner. (Self-deprecating envy is one of my congenital vices, Lord help me.) In all of our close similarities she surpassed me: more advanced degrees in America religious history, more publications, more devoted bookworm, more abundant social life, more historic Virginia hometown.  Luckily some Googling dug up video of a sermon Winner gave at Duke. Her very nerdy voice and glasses assured me that book deals do not guarantee celebrity hotttness.Just because no one is publishing my spiritual memoirs does not make me a loser (pun intended.)

Phew, now that is off my chest, I can say this was an excellent book. Winner's story was approachable and relate-able. It made me appreciate my own faith, and even inspired me to pray more! Winner's reflections on the Incarnation and scripture study were especially good. Of course, her experiences as a religious person in academia were especially encouraging to me. Go pick up this memoir if you want an intelligent discussion of faith that blends modernity and tradition.

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Emotional Perfection

This morning I went to Mass at St. Patrick's cathedral, since it is only a 15 minute walk down 51st from our hotel. It was just a typical simple half-hour weekday service with no singing and sparse pews, but I haven't felt this happy to be in church in a long time. I remembered feeling the same way about a year ago when I sought out Catholic churches in London.

As I walked back past Radio City Music Hall and Times Square, I wondered why I had the sudden attack of pious euphoria. It must be because I'm on a trip - all the excitement of exploring makes me feel like a new person. Seriously, when was the last time I fit in Mass, a brisk walk, and breakfast before 9am?

It's true that I can be something of an emotional perfectionist. I think I need to be happy all the time, and feel guilty if I am depressed, distracted, discouraged, etc. This can especially happen in my spiritual life. Not every Mass is full of quiet joy; sometimes I am going through the motions. Sometimes the rosary is drudgery. Sometimes saints are intimidating, not inspiring. Does this mean I am a bad Christian?

But this morning I realized that having a connection with God is not that different from any other relationship. Sometimes the stress of ordinary life gets you down and it's not all cinematic fairy tale fireworks. Then you go on vacation or have a birthday party and suddenly you appreciate everyone much more. For example, there have been Saturdays where The Beau and I are so zonked out from school that we haven't had much to talk about. Those days are mundane and not particularly euphoric. Then there are days that are blissfully happy and exciting, like the Saturday in New York last December when we visited St. Patrick's and the Guggenheim. There's a natural emotional rhythm there, and maybe my relationship with God is not too different.

"A nation so conceived and so dedicated"

"But, my dear Sebastian, you can't seriously believe it all..I mean about Christmas and the star and the three kings and the ox and the ass."
"Oh yes, I believe that, it's a lovely idea."
"But you can't believe things because they're lovely ideas."
"But I do. That's how I believe." - Brideshead Revisited, p. 87

Today is the feast of the Immaculate Conception, under which title Mary is the patroness of the United States. Ironically, I am up to my eyeballs in a paper about how the United States was founded by a bunch of rationalist, skeptic Deists. I seriously doubt they would be fans of the mystical, supernatural, and often-confused concept that Mary was free from original sin from the first moment of her life.Well, too bad, Thomas Jefferson. A bunch of Americans like that non-scientific, lovely idea very much.

I need to get back to my paper, so I'll leave you with this video encapsulating the religion/secularism debate that's been raging in America since the 1700s.

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
The Blitzkrieg On Grinchitude - Atheist Billboard & Capitol Christmas Tree
www.colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog March to Keep Fear Alive

A Kiss from God

Happy Second Sunday of Advent! My local church, St. Joseph on the Brandywine,  is doing a nifty banner/candle wreath thing this year.

Of course, now that I'm about to leave Delaware in 6 months, I'm finally getting connected to the parish. I've introduced myself to the pastor, and on Saturday I attended a morning advent retreat.  It was just what I needed. Not only did I get to meet some very nice parishioners, I learned about Salesian spirituality.  I have a more Vincentian background, thanks to my service year, and I've never really understood what all the fuss was about St. Francis de Sales. Turns out he's kind of awesome and not stodgy at all. In fact, he combated the Jansenist heresy and its hatred of human nature.

I especially liked one St. Francis de Sales quote that the priest shared:

The Incarnation is God's kiss to the world. 

It's a lovely thought, but that statement's implications are deeper than just sentimentality. A kiss implies love and spontaneous affection.   A kiss can also signify forgiveness and reconciliation. Between parents and children, it's a sign of trust and protection. It also means wordless communication, and a strong physical connection, and that's exactly what Jesus' incarnation was. God loved us so much, he wanted to physically, tangibly show us, and so He took on our image and likeness. St. Francis de Sales believed that this would have happened even if Christ didn't need to save us from original sin.

Material Culture Alert: Rosary stories

October is the month of the rosary, and in honor of that some Catholic bloggers are sharing their own rosaries and the stories behind them. For instance, the always-entertaining Kat is featuring rosaries all month on The Crescat. So here's my contribution.

First of all, I should confess that the Rosary and I have not always been super close. When you are a kid it can seem endlessly boring. I've had my share of not-great rosary experiences: kneeling on the cafeteria floor in middle school; late at night in the living room when none of my siblings managed to stay awake past the first decade; or those parking lot May Crowning procession that never, ever work, no matter how hard you try to keep your Hail Marys on pace with the people in front of you.

A turning point for me was Pope John Paul II's apostolic letter Rosarium Virginis Mariae. He explained that the whole point is not how piously you enunciate each bead, but rather how you contemplate the face of Christ. It's not mindless repetition, it's tuning out the world to meditate on events in scripture.

Since then, I've been finding new ways to incorporate the Rosary into my life. Keeping one near my bed has helped me through many a night of insomnia. Road trips are another good opportunity. Lately, I've prayed through workouts, challenging myself to jog for just one more decade. Although, I learned the hard way today that even though prayer and running are zen, and treadmills technically keep you on a stationary path, you should still not close your eyes!

I have owned numerous rosaries over the the years - agate, pearl, faceted, plastic, Our Father medallions depicting the four Roman basilicas, made out of colored cord on a Jamaica service trip. One was blessed with a relic of Padre Pio, and another was given by a crush at World Youth Day who was bound for the seminary. But the one I want to talk about is the one on my rear view mirror that I see every day. It represents one of my fantastic rosary moments.

When I was a senior in high school, I was sure that I should go to Catholic University in D.C. I had a great time visiting, some friends were going there, and why wouldn't God want me to further my Catholic education? In the end, though, it came down to money, and I had to settle for my second-choice state school.

The week my parents and I made the decision, I was devastated and confused. How could this be the way God wanted it? Happily, there was a chapel at my school with the Blessed Sacrament, so I went there during a free period. In the dim light, I grabbed a plastic rosary from the basket by the door and plopped myself down at the altar rail to demand some answers. One decade along, I looked down at my hands - the rosary had green and yellow beads. The colors of my state school.

That state school ended up being one of the best decisions I ever made. I didn't know then how much it would make me learn and grow. But God knew, and I like to think that He and His Mom decided to send me a little hug of encouragement about it that day.
The rosary in my car is not the original from that story, but it's close. It put it there to remind me that God's providence is never far away, even if it can be mysterious.

What about you, my very few readers? What is your favorite rosary? Do you have any good rosary-related stories?

Material Culture Alert: Pants are evil!

Pants are evil. At least that's what my classmate N-slice and I have decided. Pants never do what you want. If you fail to conform to their shape, they either sag and droop or compress your internal organs. Skirts, on the other hand, are forgiving and flexible. Skirts are our friends, especially in a fancy-pants museum school.

Now, you may be aware that there are some conservative religious groups wherein pants on women are evil. My fave Arkansas family the Duggars are an example of this, as are some Catholic homeschooling factions. In their eyes, pants undermine modesty, chastity, the role of women in the family, and the natural complementary differences between the sexes. Those are big issues, so I respect their worrying about them. The worry can lead to some extreme ideas, though. Naturally, if you look around the internet, you can find people in crazy arguements about this topic. For instance:

This article I found today is well meaning, heartfelt ... and totally nuts. When the author suggested that you take your husband shopping with you so he can pick out your clothes, I had to laugh out loud. It also seems to imply that pants simultaneously make you look too fat, too sexual, and too "cheap." Dude, which is it?

This post in response is snarky, skeptical, and full of female common sense. I laughed out loud more than once. Basically it says "I am a busy mom chasing after my kids - PANTS!"

All day I've been hashing out what I would write in response to these ideas about modesty and gender roles. Why can't I stop thinking about it? Here's my own itemized pants/skirt manifesto.

1. This is a material culture issue - clothing has both individual and social meaning. Clothing can assert control, reinforce a group affiliation, express individual creativity, and yes, offend those around you.
2. Longing for the "good old days" of modest clothing is bad history scholarship. Have you ever seen a Hogarth engraving from the 1700s? Not much modesty there. Granted, immodesty may be much more visible and diverse now, but it always existed within the social constructs of its time. That's another thing - clothing culture is a language that evolves. In Jesus' time, everyone wore long robes. Was that blurring the sexes too much?
3. There is extreme immodesty in our culture, but you don't have to go to opposite extremes to combat the cultural poison of, say, Jersey Shore.
   
4. Last night I read Ira Levin's novel The Stepford Wives. That book is a worst case scenario of caricatured gender relations, but the first article has some similarities. In both worlds, men admire women for their beauty, and want to direct how that beauty is displayed and idealized. The Stepford husbands wanted impossible women who would do endless chores with no personal needs; the other author appears to want the impossibility of never remembering that women are sexually attractive.
   
5. I'm the kind of person who takes spiritual advice much too seriously, especially when it is strict. Last year I read Colleen Hammond's Dressing With Dignity, and it troubled me for weeks. Was I really buying into a modern conspiracy of Marxism, Freemasonry, and the downfall of civilization as we know it? Padre Pio, a profoundly holy man, wouldn't even hear the confessions of women in pants. Was he looking down from heaven ashamed of me and my wide leg dress trousers? But then I remembered - that was one holy man's opinion. He was not infallible and he was influenced by the context of his time.
   
6. Lastly, having itemized lists of rules or forbidding entire genres of garments outright is not an adult moral approach. This is a lesson I'm learning myself, since I tend to like structure and direction. But I'm not in my high school anymore with its regulation of shirt collars and prom dress straps. There is no papal checklist approving or condemning every item of clothing you might ever try on in a store. As adults in a mature relationship with God, we must take our properly formed consciences and apply them to the unpredictability and diversity of daily life.
   

So that's my rant. No, I don't think skirts are evil signs of patriarchal oppression. I like wearing skirts and how they make me feel feminine and polished. I like when The Beau tells me I look pretty or my female classmates compliment me on a new dress. Some colleagues are bigger fans of pants, but they still look feminine.

Muli-dimensionality

This weekend I got to visit The Beau up in New Jersey, where he is a history grad student. There was particular cause for celebration because he had finished his first qualifying exam! Huzzah!

One of my favorite parts of New Jersey weekends is brunch after Sunday Mass. Our usual diner instinctively asks "How many this week?" when we show up. In Delaware I don't have a close church community, so I relish the chance to talk about my faith with people my age.

Sometimes conversation only deal with pop culture and the appeal of bacon, but this week we had a weighty discussion of metaphysics and the dimensions of reality. Does God exist in time, or in an outside fourth of fifth dimension? How does our concept of reality's dimensions affect our understanding of heaven, the Mass, and free will? I'm not sure I understood it all, but it was a welcome break from intense material culture research. Objects have meaning, but there is an entire universe of intangible concepts that is equally important.

Anyway, all these metaphysics got me thinking about the dimensions of my own life. Most of the time, I'm in the museum dimension. I fit in there with the colorful books, field trips, and endless conversations about material culture. But every few weeks, I inhabit another dimension up north. Over the past year I have gotten to know The Beau's church friends and his life there. Now I feel like I fit in there, with the Jersey diners, Sunday hymns, walks in the park, and endless conversations about what it means to be a Catholic academic. I am grateful for the opportunity to inhabit both worlds, I just wish they weren't so far apart.

On England and Popery

In retrospect, it has taken me months to process my class trip to London this January. Now that the memories of stress and exhaustion have faded, I begin to appreciate the wonderful places I saw and feel a real fondness for the city. That has been most apparent this weekend as I've followed Pope Benedict XVI's state visit to the United Kingdom. Not only is the Holy Father making historic speeches and appearances, he's doing so in places I've visited! Westminster Abbey? Been there. Mass in Westminster Cathedral? Done that too! It makes me feel a kinship with "Papa Benny" to know that we've both looked at the London Eye across the Thames.

The papal visit has also caused new reflection on my position as an historian and Anglophile who is also Catholic. When I study or visit England, I am always aware that this was a nation which, for centuries, would have killed or oppressed me for my beliefs. Nowhere did I feel that more keenly than at the Tower of London, where St. Thomas More spent his last days and is buried. He doesn't get a large shrine or elaborate casket, just a space beneath the chapel floorboards and a footnote after the saga of Anne Boleyn. Still, I could feel his presence as I toured the Tower. I wondered what he thought as he faced his death. We carried on a conversation of sorts as I asked his prayers for me and people I love.

Stories like Thomas More's are what make the Pope's UK visit so historic. Any 17th century English person would not believe what happened this weekend. The Pope stood in the place where Thomas More was condemned, addressing Parliament. Not far from the Tyburn, the Pope reflected on the Catholic and Anglican martyrs who died there. At Westminster Abbey, the Pope and Archbishop of Canterbury prayed together. We've come a long way. Former rivals and even enemies find themselves allies and friends in the face of a secular culture.

Which brings me to my thesis. "Late nineteenth early twentieth century Episcopal church vestments." At times it seems so insignificant and pointless. Who really cares about some Catholic girl's bumbling about in Episcopal church history? Rich parishes had pretty vestments, ok moving on! But somehow I think the newly beatified John Henry Newman would care. He spent part of his life as an Anglican, then as a Catholic. He influenced the liturgy and spirituality of both Churches. Both contributed to the man he was.

Speaking of conversion, someone in Salem heard my thesis topic and asked if I was planning on converting to be an Anglo-Catholic Episcopalian. I laughed and answered "No, I really like the Pope, you know?" I do like the idea of a visible head of the Church. I also really like "Papa Benny" in his soft spoken, shy, scholarly demeanor. Under that gentleness is a razor sharp, encyclopedic mind and a good heart. I have been so darn proud this weekend as he bluntly spoke about important things: the horror of sex-abuse scandals, the need for public expressions of faith, the rationality of religion, and the desire for Christian unity.

Maybe my research is a tiny drop in the bucket of that Christian unity. If nothing else, I will understand my "separated brethren" better. I'm also learning more about liturgical history. If I can just tell an interesting story of Christians glorifying God through material culture, I will be happy. Blessed John Henry Newman, pray for me.

(Images are from the Daily Telegraph)

Modernist Monday - with special effects by the moderator of the Church of Scotland

Yesterday while dipping into my roomie's Monty Python DVD set I discovered this hilarious fictional tv theme sequence. One could argue its design significance as an example of 1970s spy action film motifs. Also, The Bishop is wearing a pretty sweet cope with coordinating stole. You Tube wouldn't let me embed the entire sketch, but you can watch it here for even more sweet crosier smiting action.

What can I say?

What can I say about Mel Gibson that hasn't already been said in the past few weeks? National media coverage has detailed how this former Catholic icon of family values fell from grace, betraying first his wife of over 20 years, and then his model baby-mama. Quotations reveal him to be racist, vulgar, abusive ... oh yeah, and misrepresentative of Church teaching on salvation.
Obviously, I could say how disgusted I am.

I could say how I once loved The Passion of the Christ, but after multiple viewings the intense gore is just sickening, not meaningful. Sure, Jim Caviezel and the Eucharistic paralells are still great. But it seems like violence is how Gibson explains the world in most of his films. For instance, over 4th of July I re-watched The Patriot. Like The Passion, it was chock full of hateful destruction calcuated to elicit shock, anger, and revenge. Seeing Gibson's character mutilate Redcoats with a tomahawk was not unlike the Roman soldiers in the infamous scourging at the pillar scene.
I could also say how this review, while ignorant and vulgar, is also fascinating. It shows how The Passion - theological context = confusion, not evangelization. The reviewer admits he "knows nothing about Christianity," but didn't leave with any better understanding of sacrifice and redemption. On the other hand, the film did teach him who Pontius Pilate was and made him ask some questions.

I could say that I want to spit on Mel Gibson's reputation and smack him in the face for disgracing his family and his faith. But then I read this post, with the phrase "Every Soul is a Battlefield." It's true, Mel Gibson is in a battle for his soul. He's fighting against his sinfulness, his inner demons, and whatever addictions or mental illnesses he may have. More violence and hatred won't cure him. Instead, I should do what the post's author recommends "be a brave heart and pray for him." That's what Jesus the Christ would have us do.

Finally, some fun in Delaware

I just got back from a rare outing to the "downtown" area of this city, hearing a reading/stand up routine by the fabulous comedian David Sedaris. Our faces are sore from laughing and my heart is still a little flushed with the thrill of being in the same room with a famous person.

It's hard to describe David Sedaris to the uninitiated, except that he's the funniest thing ever. He's quite a unique person - in his fifties, but with the face of a 30 year old man and the voice of a 12 year old girl. He mocks the mundane like Dave Barry and revels in the grotesque like Flannery O'Connor. He's down-to-earth, despite the fact that he lives in France and London when he's not on tour.

Tonight we heard stories about flight attendants, lab rats, French doctors, weird labels in British supermarkets, the marital problems of dogs, and the "aggressively beautiful" receptionists in a dermatologist's office. . I thought the animal fables from his upcoming book would be boring, but they were fantastic. We laughed, gasped, and pondered our own humanity. Are we as self-centered and idiosyncratic as the characters in these vignettes? Of course we are.

At times, Sedaris' satire can veer into the sacriligious, since he draws on his Greek Orthodox upbringing for material. One bit tonight rode the line of taste, but ended up making a good point. Why is the Jesus on roadside French crucifixes really toned? he wondered. Why doesn't someone make a cross with an obese Jesus, who broke the wood the first time the Romans tried? Why don't we ever see a Jesus with a bulbous nose, shoulder acne, and hairy back? Where's comb-over Jesus?

I have to agree about the dubious nature of doe-eyed blond Jesus pictures where he lacks any body hair or calluses. But I seriously doubt an itinerant preacher with little money had time to get fat. In the end, though, comb-over Jesus makes a profound point. Those ugly or even repulsive people are Christ. They deserve as much respect as a man who looks good in a loincloth.

In that spirit, here's a classic Sedaris story, in which he attempts to explain Easter in broken French.

Christ Our Light - Thanks be to God!

I just got back from a weekend trip home to Virginia, where I got to spend the Easter Triduum with my family for the first time in three years. We went to every church service possible, and the whole thing was a like a mini-retreat. The culmination was of course the Easter Vigil, aka the Catholic Super Bowl/the longest and coolest liturgy you will ever experience.

My favorite part is the beginning, at the blessing of the fire that will light the new paschal candle. While the pyrotechnics are going on, the entire church is dark. Then the priests and company process in with the candle, chanting "Christ Our Light". Clutching as yet unlit candles, we respond, "Thanks be to God!"

Then, the altar boys light their candles from the large one, and begin passing the flame along the pews. Slowly the light travels until the entire nave is filled with radiance. What I noticed this year was how my view of the congregation changed. In the darkness, the pews were full of just dark blobs. As the light spread, I could see people's faces.

I could see their faces. In the light of Christ, their personhood was revealed, each with value and individuality. Isn't that how charity is supposed to work? I think St. Vincent de Paul would agree.

Wait...there's Catholic Social Teaching?

Recently Glenn Beck told his radio listeners to "run away" from priests who preach social justice and to "ask your bishop if he's down with this whole social justice thing."

*Facepalm* Of course your bishop is "down with it." So was every Pope of the last century. Idiotic statements like this make me mad, and are why I don't readily "admit" I lean to the political right.

Thank goodness Stephen Colbert and a Jesuit priest can set the record straight. "Maybe Glenn could be the next Pope, since he's already comfortable with telling Catholics what to do."

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Glenn Beck Attacks Social Justice - James Martin
www.colbertnation.com
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History in Movies: The Crucible

(I found this nearly finished in my drafts and decided it was worth posting after all. I've kept the original date.)

What makes you think she's a witch?
She turned me into a newt!
A newt?
Well, I got better.

This weekend The Beau and I watched the 1996 film of The Crucible, since we had both somehow skipped it in our high school education. I have to admit, I don't think we really missed out. All I learned from the experience is that
a) Puritanism is one messed up religion.
b) Teenage girls can be cruel, vindictive, and prone to hysterics.
c) Paul Scofield is a great actor with awesome diction.
d) Movies with creepy music and lots of people screaming freak me out.

All of which I managed to learn in high school anyway so there.
Thanks to my graduate studies I can also attest that the chairs and ceramic jugs were reasonably accurate. 

Luckily, some professional reviews confirmed my suspicions that this film has too much yelling, not enough nuance.
Roger Ebert says: The story has all the right moves and all the correct attitudes, but there is something lacking at its core; I think it needs less frenzy and more human nature... The characters I believed in most were Elizabeth Proctor, the Rev. Hale, and Judge Danforth. As written and acted, they seem like plausible people doing their best in an impossible situation. Too many of the others seem like fictional puppets. The village girls in general (and Abigail Williams in particular) don't even seem to belong to the 17th century; as they scurry hysterically around the village, they act like they've seen too many movies.

Another review agrees: The actors, with four exceptions, spend their time shrieking and spitting at the camera. Ryder comes off the worst: she looks the part, but whenever she opens her mouth, it's over.

I seriously had trouble falling asleep after what was supposed to be a fun movie night. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten so emotionally involved, with Salem Witch Trials joining the Donner Party on my list of "tragedies of American history that make me cry."