“I have come not to bring peace, but a sword.”
Matthew 10:34
“Fallen man is not simply an imperfect creature who needs improvement: he is a rebel who must lay down his arms.”
–C. S. Lewis
The lay Pontifical student’s life in Rome is woven with more questions than our veins are with cappuccinos. When did I become more comfortable with men in collars than with men who have not taken a vow of celibacy? Have I fulfilled my “humiliating-moments-in-the-Italian-language” quota for the week? Why does the small chapel in our library smell never of incense, but always of apples? Was the reason some saints had the gift of bilocation so that they could make it to all of their pontifical classes? Why is night the only time when Rome becomes truly radiant? What is the sad story of the widowed barrister who works in the local bar, where coincidentally one can find the best coffee in all of Rome?
And what on earth was God thinking when He called me here?
The reality of living in this city cannot be condensed into classes, language, delicious food, beautiful architecture, and the historical and tangible affirmation of our Faith, all neatly and benignly suspended about us. Rather, these elements, along with our passions, our insecurities, our talents, our friendships, our love for our families back home, and everything that makes us who we are, clash into one another at every moment with a celestial violence that leaves all of the pieces lying in ruins at our feet.
Yet, such is ultimately the destiny for all of us, whether we live in the Eternal City or the backwoods of West Virginia. It is not enough to simply acquire accurate knowledge and good habits; these alone, while giving us means by which to identify truth and to follow the motions laid out by it, simply do not have what it takes to lead us all the way to the very heart of the matter. True fulfillment of our humanity comes, rather, by surrendering ourselves to the reality that Redemption demands that we must first be devastatingly destroyed. It is not simply a purification of our poor habits and worldly attachments; it is an actual death to ourselves, our entire selves. The calling to take up the Cross is not only a call to suffer; it is a call to die, for it is only through death that we can become who we truly are. “Love, as mortals understand it, isn’t enough,” says C.S. Lewis. “Every natural love will rise again and live forever in this country; but none will rise again until it has been buried.”
But though, in the process of being rebuilt, we feel the pain of the nails being driven in, and our beams pulled apart, those of us who are called to be pilgrims in this city are surrounded by constant reminders that what we are being reconstructed into is a palace for our Father to live in. This is the special gift of being called to live in Rome, for here is the only city on earth where we fully witness the majesty of our faith in such a way as to not only give us courage to strive for Heaven, but more importantly, joy in the knowledge of what is waiting for us when we get there.
"Gethsemane"
let us not now wake the sleeping hours that with mountains into this valley break. let the faltering woods that crowd our souls from the One who sees through the ashes burn. until this child of ebony seeks a fallen grace, yet fallen but redeemed. I've left all things, but You are not here; forgotten by my foolish pride, yet stand You there, to weep.
I little something that I wrote many years ago . . .
The life of Job
One of the greatest snares to one's life is a false trust in Providence, in which we believe that He is taking care of us on the basis that things are going right and well in our lives. But actual trust must transcend this. The fact that things sometimes fall into place, it is true, is a testament of God's love, and His desire for us to be as happy as possible in this life, so long as that happiness poses no threat to eternal life. Yet, real trust in God must prevail when things go rather badly, maybe even rather terribly. Because the greatest happiness for which all events in life lead us to is beyond this world; if God takes away all semblance of earthly happiness, it is not because He doesn't desire our temporal happiness, but it is because there is some hindrance in our lives that is a detriment to an unimaginable eternal joy. This hindrance may come from us, or it may come from something completely out of our control.
God does not desire suffering on this earth that we may obtain happiness in the next. He allows suffering to help us see, but He does not desire to see us suffer, and would have us suffer as little as possible.
God does not redeem us through the evils of the world. He redeems us in spite of them.
Some recent thoughts on Christianity and the future of the Church . . .
It has been so long that I don't know where to begin, and have no particular direction at the start. Therefore, I must excuse my lack of direction and organization, as well as any generalizations that I may have made.
Life has moved me another small step in the direction of adulthood, increasing my awareness of the childishness of each step before this one, especially those steps that I, at the time, believed to be the most significant and wise in my life. The more I observe intellectualism and spirituality of the most "sophisticated" kinds, the more I realize what children we are, trying to imitate Heaven, not aware that our high exaltation's are an infant's babble, almost unintelligible to the angels. I have found that I have both improved and declined. As I let myself go in childish happiness, I find that I am wiser; but at the same time, I have grown too much, and have begun to descend back into spiritual incoherency.
Through my observations of both the Church and of myself, I have started to see -- although I'm very far from fully understanding -- just how corruptive it is to liturgy and tradition to dichotomize these historic elements from what it means to be a Christian. It is true that the Consecration takes place in the traditional rites regardless of the sentiments of those participating in the Mass, and that God, being present, provides infinite grace; however, when such tradition is clung to, to such an extent where those who partake in it are hypocritical, hateful, cruel and perverted, the efficaciousness of the Mass is affected.
God is infinite, and there is not a single person who participates in the Mass without sin. But the community is part of the Mass; many modern Catholics have misinterpreted this concept and turned the Mass into a get-together instead of the worship of God that it is intended to be. Nonetheless, community is implied in the celebration of the Mass. Do not, therefore, the hateful sentiments held by some in the traditionalist community have the capacity to taint the reception of grace even in the Holiest of celebrations and worship? It is not that such hypocrisy dampens the "feelings" of holiness; but such company, even in a liturgical celebration, has the power to dampen the ability to perceive and remember virtue.
Is it better, when one has a choice, to participate in a technically higher for of worship when you are entering into a community that loves tradition and hates Christ, while one can go to a simpler but equally valid mode of worship where the community may be simpler, but are seeking to love God? Some say that there is greater risk of sacrilege in the simpler liturgies; but is a perfectly celebrated traditional Mass free of sacrilege when its celebrated by people who are shamelessly open about their hypocrisy and perversion? And is this sacrilege better simply because it occurs in a traditional format?
The traditional liturgies are historical, beautiful, and should be maintained and participated in. But in all honesty, the world isn't capable of understanding it, because Catholics both liberal and ultra-conservative have forgotten that they are Christians. The problems began long before Vatican II -- the council would never have resulted in such abuse had the Church been so disconnected from Her roots that she was able to be torn to shreds so easily.
Therefore, before orthodoxy can return to the Church, She must first return to Christianity. The benefits of such a return have already been seen in England, through the Catholic Literary Revival and its followers. By returning to the Gospels, the Epistles, and the Fathers, prominent members of the Church of England found themselves in a conversion of both intellect and faith to the Catholic Church. Even C.S. Lewis, who never took the step to become Catholic, came closer to the truth of the Church than most Catholics will ever come; many converts attribute their conversion to Catholicism -- Catholicism, not merely Christianity -- to Lewis.
If returning to the Christian roots, simple common sense though they were in many ways, could lead to such a powerful revolution of intellect and faith in the minds and hearts of Anglicans, one can only imagine the possibilities if such a "revolution" were to occur within the Church Herself.
John Paul 2 High
"One start-up school. Seven mismatched kids. Catholic truth. . . . Craziness . . .
When their parents decide to start a new high school, George, Celia, Liz, J.P., Brian, and James are all thrown together, although they have almost nothing in common. George and Celia attended the local Catholic high school, Brian and James were homeschooled. Liz just wants to attend a school where she can play sports, and J.P. just wants to make trouble.
Then there's a shooting at the local public high school,and Allie Weaver joins the class . . ."
This is a great series for Catholic teenagers, and is important in the ever growing effort to promote good Catholic art to youth in our secular-driven world. The first book in this series, Catholic Reluctantly, has finally been published, and we are now asking for all the support that we can get to help us promote it so that we can keep going with this project.
The John Paul 2 High series, written by Christian M. Frank, deals with the everyday challenges of Catholic teens, following the main characters as they search for truth while trying to live a good life in the real world. The everyday trials and struggles of these average teenagers are presented in a way that is accessible, without being preachy. The story itself, moreover, is a solid blend of humor, intrigue, and real-life hardship and joy.
Catholic Reluctantly is available for purchase at www.amazon.com and www.sophiainstitute.com. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review telling other readers what you think! You can also find more information at the main website, http://johnpaul2high.com/, as well as their main blog at http://johnpaul2high.blogspot.com/.
"Signposts in a Strange Land"*
People break down into two groups when they experience something lucky. Group number one sees it as more than luck, more than coincidence. They see it as a sign, evidence, that there is someone up there, watching out for them. Group number two sees it as just pure luck. Just a happy turn of chance. I'm sure the people in Group number two are looking at those fourteen lights in a very suspicious way. For them, the situation is fifty-fifty. Could be bad, could be good. But deep down, they feel that whatever happens, they're on their own. And that fills them with fear. Yeah, there are those people. But there's a whole lot of people in the Group number one. When they see those fourteen lights, they're looking at a miracle. And deep down, they feel that whatever's going to happen, there will be someone there to help them. And that fills them with hope. See what you have to ask yourself is what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Or, look at the question this way: Is it possible that there are no coincidences?
M. Night Shyamalan ~ Signs
Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while."
The Prince's Bride
There are two problems that we face in considering Providence. If God's will depends solely on human free will, we run the risk of becoming deists; God is there, but in the end we are on our own. At the same time, if God is in complete control, we run the risk of believing in the wrong kind of predestination. This harmony between Divine guidance and free will is a difficult concept to reconcile, yet as Catholics, this harmony is fundamental. How is this possible? How does it reconcile with vocation? And what about this problem of suffering?
In regards to our vocation, it is my belief that if we try to follow God's will as best we can, there is nothing that can affect our vocation, nor the ultimate joy that comes from finding it. Everyone desires true love, whether it is through another person, or through the religious life. This is not to say that vocation isn't painful. True love -- requited or not -- hurts tremendously because the suffering and imperfections of that other person become your own, except amplified by a million. But God does not give these transcendental desires to leave them unfulfilled, because He does not desire suffering, only allowing it when He must. Losing the "man of our dreams," therefore, or being prevented from entering a religious order, is not the tragedy that it may seem to be at the time. If God desired it, He would find a way to make it happen. And even if it is true that the "first" vocation was God's first choice, what does it matter in terms of our happiness? Original Sin was not God's first choice; yet His second choice was to dignify our humanity with the Incarnation, with a far greater dignity than we ever would've known had Eve just told the serpent to bugger off in the first place.
We are not redeemed by suffering per se, but by our ability to hope in spite of suffering. We are wholly free, yet wholly protected from everything that fallen nature can inflict upon us, so long as we resign ourselves to mercy. We choose, falter, stray, and cause one another to stumble. But Providence is far greater than our choices, and the sufferings and losses that we experience either by our own hands or by the hands of others. Our one and only power is our ability to choose, but our free will would have no power without His grace. We choose our vocation, and are even free to choose between two relatively equal goods; but our ultimate vocation remains protected.
"One Day Late" by Sam Philips
Refrain:
Help is coming
Help is coming one day late
One day late
After you’ve given up and all is gone
Help is coming one day late
Help is coming one day
Try to understand
You try to fix your broken hands
But remember
That there always has been good
Like stars you don’t see in the day sky
Wait ‘til night
For(refrain)
Life has kept me down
I’ve been growing underground
Now I’m coming up
When time opens the earth
You’ll see love has been moving all around us
Making waves
So (refrain)
*Walker Percy
In Defense of Art, Diversity, and Catholicism
Originally published October 11, 2006
Morality, like art, means drawing a line someplace."
~Oscar Wilde
One of the more interesting arguments against Catholicism, from an artistic perspective, is that in living by a single truth, diversity is limited. But what about the alternative?
If you believe that there is no God, no objective truth, how is infinite diversity possible? Even the abyss of the universe is finite. And the answer isn't simply to do what hasn't been done. If art is simply pushing the limits and doing what no one else has done, you're being original without being creative. Art becomes limited to the created world, by the created world.
In the converse, when art is meant to more than entertain, when it reaches towards objective truth, towards God, it is appealing to something that is infinitely more vast than the created universe. God is infinite, and He Himself is an artist. When art moves toward God, there will necessarily be elements in it that would be impossible to achieve by appealing to nature alone. Even when agnostic artists achieve some level of supernatural beauty, it is through the grace of God, not nature. With God, the possibilities, to be cliché, are endless.
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