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!

What I Wore Sunday

True confession: I used to have ambitions of being a fashion blogger. Once I even submitted an outfit to the sadly defunct blog Academichic. Taking occasional photos of my daily outfits really helped me learn how to dress myself after college and use my closet creatively. Eventually I quit because I was busy with other things, and honestly, my clothes are not that fascinating.

So I was excited when my #Cathsorority friends at Fine Linen and Purple started the "What I Wore Sunday" linkup! It's fun to see what other people wear to church.

This week's church outfit: Kohl's dress, Target cardigan and tights, Ross lace tank, Me Too black flats. 

The necklace is from a jewelry store in NYC where everything is $3.99! It's a souvenir of the first day I took NJ Transit and the subway "all by myself."

My parents always emphasized dressing up for Mass on Sunday, and I like continuing that custom. It makes Sunday a little extra special. Especially now that I wear a uniform for work 5 days a week, I'm glad to have a chance to use the rest of my closet! 

Dresses have totally become my favorite standby in the past few years. It's easy to throw one on in the morning even if you're tired or in a hurry, and they are very forgiving if you lose or gain a few pounds. No one will ever make a reality show called "Say Yes to the Jeans" - shopping for pants is just painful.

This outfit now feels like it was years ago. Since Sunday I've been living in sweatpants as we deal with Hurricane Sandy and a soggy basement. Stay safe everyone! 

Witnessing America

My life has changed dramatically in the past few weeks. I finally got my wish to be a Metro commuter and work in downtown D.C. The job offer came suspiciously close to the end of a 54 day rosary novena I was saying, so I'm sure the Blessed Mother had something to do with it. Now this night owl is getting up before 6 to take a bus and a train to work in visitor services at a national landmark. 

Not this landmark. But I like to consider the President a neighbor. 

On my first day I sat through a generic orientation with people from across the agency. I was sitting between an electrician and a plant geneticist. It was great to see all the types of people who make the nation's capital run. 

When you become a government employee they ask you all sorts of morbid questions, like who gets your last paycheck if you die. These beneficiary forms require two witnesses. So we passed our papers around the table, adding our own names and addresses to strangers' life stories. We briefly witnessed the most important people in their lives. 

So even though I spent over two hours on my commute today, I loved doing it. I loved crossing paths with so many different people, witnessing a sliver of the countless daily lives that fill Washington. All those people with briefcases, Kindles, badges, and families waiting at home are writing the story of America. 

Road Trip Quick Takes

Thanks as always to Jen at Conversion Diary for hosting this link-up.

 The Betrothed and I just spent the last three weeks of June on an epic road trip visiting many friends and relatives across the Central time zone. Here are some of the funny and interesting things we saw at each of our stops.

This is what it looks like when two nerds  revisit childhood road trips. 

1. A store along the highway in Tennessee proudly proclaimed, "JESUS IS LORD" and "WE BUY GUNS."


2. The tiny town of Morrisville, AL is only nine square blocks. It was cute, but not as much of a time warp as  my doctor's office Southern Living December 2009 made it out to be. 



Quaint, but overrated. 






Fathers' Day Mass at my future sister-in-law's Florida parish featured the "Knights of Columbus Chorale" - basically Dads in matching Knights polo shirts leading the hymns. Adorbs. 






My fiance took me to a bayou nature preserve outside New Orleans, where the air was thick with humidity and cicadas. The alligators were hiding from view, but we did see lizards, a million dragonflies, and a crawfish crawling around in the the dirt. He threatened us with his claws.






Don't worry little guy, we won't eat you. 






There are a ton of historic plantation houses down River Road outside New Orleans. Evergreen Plantation is still privately owned, and so not jammed with tourists. Hollywood has found them though - apparently Quentin Tarentino has been filming scenes for Django Unchaned there. We only saw intact slave cabins, though, no movie stars.






Can't begin to describe how seeing these buildings blew my nerdy mind. 





A bumper sticker on a truck outside Dallas informed us that "Kids who hunt and fish don't steal and deal." Ok then. 







While visiting grandparents in Chicago, I did some archival research of old family photos. Check out the fantastic vestments at my great uncle's diaconate ordination. (Rest in peace. Fr. Kevin.)

Seriously, check out that man-lace. 

I hope we come back soon, Chicagoland. 

7 Quick Special Occasion Takes

It's been a crazy past two weeks for me, full of special occasions. Here's a quick recap. Thanks as always to Jen for hosting this link-up.

1. One of my dearest college friends just married a Civil War historian. (What can I say, history nerds are attractive!) They got married in a little white historic church that I'd heard about, but never visited. Fun fact: Clara Barton nursed Civil War soldiers there. 

2. At my friend's reception, all the tables were named for ships in Star Trek and Star Wars. The sweetheart table was the Millenium Falcon, natch. 

Listen your worship, I think this whole reception would look a lot better
if we coordinated the groomsmen's pocket squares
with the cocktail napkins, don't you?

3. Then Brother #2 graduated from high school. He even got an "Unsung Hero" award from the faculty for all his hard work keeping up with school despite two concussions. I was so touched that they honored him and two other seniors battling chronic health conditions. Partial invalids represent!

4. The priest who said the graduation Mass gave some of the best Catholic high school advice I've ever heard. He told these bright eyed, catechism-filled kids to go out and befriend their peers who *gasp* aren't Catholic! People who don't share your faith aren't evil, and often they are searching for God's love. 

5. Best lines of the homily, which are my new evangelization motto: 

"Don't be weird. Don't go up to people at parties and say 'Want to hear about Jesus?' That's weird, and they will run away from you. Don't walk around with a huge picture of Mary saying 'Here is Our Lady of Guadalupe. LOVE HER."

LOVE HER OR LOSE YOUR SOULLLLL

6. After that, Brother #1 got married! It's still a little hard to believe my little brother is now "an old married man," but I am so happy for him and my new sister-in-law. Also, I am proud to belong to an extended family that firmly believes a marriage is not valid until everyone has danced their faces off. 

7. Lastly, one year from today will be my own wedding! The Betrothed and I have started marriage prep meetings with our museum buff priest, and are actually making decisions about (eeek) spending money on this shindig. Please pray for me that I find a job soon and can start building a nest egg. 

Happy Pentecost

Gian Jacopo Caraglio after Raphael, Pentecost, 
National Gallery of Art, Ailsa Mellon Bruce Fund 1972.34.3

Since I was analyzing Florence + The Machine lyric at Eastertime, here's her song "Between Two Lungs." It always reminds me of the life-giving breath of the Holy Spirit. May our souls be filled with His grace and gifts today. (Don't you just love how Confirmation comes with a clearly itimized list of powers?)

Gone are the days of begging,

The days of theft.

No more gasping for a breath.

The air has filled me head to toe

And I can see the ground far below. 

I have this breath and I hold it tight

And I keep in my chest with all my might.

I pray to God this breath will last as I gasp...

St. Vincent Ferrer Church, New York City

When The Betrothed came back from England a few weeks ago, we spent a day wandering around New York  City. On our walk between The Frick Collection and meeting a college friend for cupcakes at Sprinkles, we peeked at a church at the corner of  Lexington Avenue and E 63rd Street. Janitors were sweeping up rose petals from an afternoon wedding procession.

St. Vincent Ferrer parish began in 1867, and its current building dates to 1918. Architect Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue designed the church, which is the most elaborate Gothic revival building I've seen since our field trip to the Newark Cathedral.

This reminds me of a medieval church I did a middle-school report on.

The sanctuary was just glorious. I've never seen seven lamps like that in a church that wasn't Anglo-Catholic. The altarpiece topped with Christ the King was carved in Belgium.

I wonder if the little dog/fox/wolf on top of the pew is a shoutout to the Dominicans
as God's dogs (Domini canes.)

The rood screen. 

Immaculate Conception shine

Side altar with tons of saints, plus Mary giving St. Dominic the rosary.

You can take a virtual tour of all the church's features and symbolism here. St. Vincent Ferrar is a peaceful oasis in a busy city. From the abundance of votive candles ($4 at the front desk, we bought one), you can tell many New Yorkers bring their intentions there. St. Vincent and St. Dominic, pray for us!

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. 

How Not to Talk About Underemployed People

There's been a lot of backlash to the Obama campaign's "The Life of Julia." This slick little slideshow shows a woman going through life relying on government funding, even though mean ol' Mitt Romney wants to rip those benefits from her hands. Like all campaign literature, it oversimplifies things and sounds slightly condescending.

One recent response to it really burned me up, though. Sure, I agree with "The Life of Emily" as a rebuttal of government paternalism. I bet if I met the author, Emily Stimpson, in person, we'd have a lot in common. Her story of success as a professional young woman is inspiring. Making it as a free-lance writer is hard, and she's totally convinced me to open a health savings account.

But her tales of job success hit too close to home for me. It felt like the name-dropping and insensitive boasting of a smug class valedictorian. Sure, she's smart and diligent, but she also got many lucky breaks. One of those was being born 7 years before I was. Right now, there aren't enough merit scholarships and entry-level jobs to go around for even the hard-studying A-students. This sentence in particular burned: "It would never occur to her to still be on her parents’ plan, even if she could. After all, she’s 26—an adult." Well yahoo. I guess that makes me an infant.

Via Economic Policy Institute

To top it off, Emily's readers decided that I and other underemployed people who commented were whiny morons lacking American values. Their kids could pay for insurance straight out of school, what's wrong with us? "A master's degree does not entitle you to a job with benefits," scolded one person. He implied I should have gone to trade school instead. The flurry of "dislikes" felt like a spit in the face. These pharisees pointed at me, the 27-year old living with her parents, and said "I thank you, O Lord, that I am not like that."

I know, I'm talking about internet comments from strangers here. It doesn't really matter. But this was on a Catholic website. For the first time, I felt attacked personally by my own kind. I couldn't believe the ignorance and lack of compassion.


The "American Dream" is not in the Apostles' Creed, people. Our economy is in flux right now - a college degree doesn't ensure a job anymore. People are relying on their parents for longer into adulthood. The recession is not over. Who knows what career path advice kids will get in five or ten years.

If I were to write "The Life of Sarah," it would read like Emily's, but with more ups and downs. Mine is just one story, and I know there are many people worse off than I. But I am an example of how fortunes can unexpectedly change, and how hard work and good grades don't always win you success. My odyssey into adulthood also shows how sometimes, you need a helping hand.

I went to a state university for the lower tuition, taking out loans and working part-time jobs. At age 20 I contracted a chronic circulatory condition and had to take a year of leave from school. For the next 5 years, this "pre-existing condition" would prevent me from getting coverage outside of my parents' insurance plan. If I didn't have insurance, I couldn't get the medication I needed to function. So yes, I relied on my parents into adulthood.

At age 23 I spent a year with the Vincentian Service Corps in St. Louis. There I saw firsthand how government aid could help some people, like the mom of 5 who used housing assistance money to move away from her abusive meth-addict husband. I also saw the heavy costs of family decline and sexual irresponsibility. I learned how some people just wanted a handout, but all the money in the world couldn't replace the value of caring, challenging mentors. All this time I made $300 a month, so obviously I wasn't building a nest egg. It was worth it.

Source

At age 25 I was in a competitive master's program that provided a tuition fellowship and stipend. I could not have afforded grad school any other way. When my Dad lost his job, I emptied my "wedding dress slush fund" savings into COBRA fees to extend my insurance coverage. A generous gift from a relative helped me pay these fees and buy a very sensible, very used car. My cardiologist declared me mostly free of symptoms, and so I could finally purchase basic insurance through my university.

At age 26 I got my master's, but not a job like most of my classmates. I moved back in with my parents and worked odd jobs all summer. In a stroke of luck I got an entry-level temp job, replacing an accounting department's college intern. My hourly wage job allows me to pay for my insurance, as well as out-of-pocket treatments for a back injury.

Now at age 27 I know I must help pay for my wedding, but have no idea where I'll be working in a month. A lot of my peers save money by shacking up with significant others, but obviously we won't do that. I'm determined to have Depression-era pluck, looking for whatever gigs I can find. Substitute teaching? Museum volunteering? A temp agency? I'm also going for the novena mother-load, the 54-day rosary. My path is not what I envisioned at age 20, and I do not wish it for my younger siblings. But I refuse to condemn myself for circumstances in some part beyond my control.

So if you want to talk to the Kids Today about their jobs, realize that it's always more complicated than it looks. Here are a few tips.

• Don't conflate individuals with economic trends. Should we have a national conversation about how college is overpriced and maybe not worth it for everyone? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean you should point at a deep-thinking liberal arts major and tell him he should have been a mechanic instead. Don't grill him about whether it's time to "give up" on his field. 
• Read this recent piece about the surprising number of PhDs on public assistance.  Realize that not everyone on food stamps is a welfare queen - sometimes ambitious, intelligent people turn to welfare as a last resort. 
• Don't tell a recent grad "Oh, but aren't there lots of companies in your field where you live?" Yes, we know, as does everyone else with our degree. This is like telling a single woman "Oh, but there are lots of cute guys in your area. Have you tried going to bars?"
• Don't yap about how you or your kids or cousin or brother was a wild success right out of school. 
• Do refer underemployed young adults to job openings or to people who might be good professional connections. Whom you know matters, more than ever. 
• Do offer practical interview advice based on your own experience. Express sympathy when they get turned down after an interview. Assure them that they are just as capable as their peers; that a lot of this is mysterious luck.
• Do cheer them on with small successes, like part-time retail jobs. Don't lecture them about counting their blessings. They know. 
• Do tell them about sales on professional wear at the local outlet mall. 
• Do offer to pray for them. Only God knows how we'll get out of this recession mess. 

Any other job-seekers reading this? What would you add to my list? 

St. Joseph the Worker

Teaching young Jesus how not to lose a finger to a plane.

Today is the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. This is a young saint day, established by Pope Pius XII in 1955 in response to Communist "May Day" celebrations. Other countries still observe May Day/International Worker's Day. (This includes my Romanian colleagues, lucky ducks.) Dear St. Joseph really does deserve extra days dedicated to his awesomeness. His wife has about a bazillion, after all. His vocation as spouse, parent, and laborer is something anyone can relate to.

Those are some legit clamps on that work bench. Source. 

I really could use some help in the labor department these days, since I'm still an underemployed twenty-something. The museum of my dreams liked me a lot, but decided to hire a good friend of mine instead. This one hurts. I hope that place and I can "still be friends," but this does feel an awful lot like a prom love triangle. To top it off, my awesome temp job is finally ending.

I feel terribly adrift, but really this change is the best thing to happen in a while. It's time for something new. Despite all the uncertainty, I have a feeling that God wouldn't let me lose my job unless He had something better in store. Guess I'll fire up the novenas again.

By John Collier. Via Terry Nelson at Abbey Roads. 

Last weekend I went to confession at a nearby church named for Jesus' foster father. As I knelt before his statue, I looked up and noticed the hatchet in Joseph's hands. And realized I'm an idiot.

Who better to ask for help in my job search than the patron saint of workers? Wouldn't Joseph love to examine some historic furniture with me? I'm sure he'd be great at identifying wood types or tool marks. Did he, like me, make a mess of things the first time he tried to use a gouge? Did he sneeze from all the wood shavings in his nose? I wonder what he would have thought of Thomas Chippendale's Director.

I tried some planing in Colonial Williamsburg last year. Photo courtesy of JRG. 

So St. Joseph the Worker, please pray for me to find a job. And pray for everyone adrift in this messy economy of ours, whether they are new graduates or old veterans hoping to retire. Remind us that no work is pointless if it's done for God.