Friday, March 24, 2006

Some thoughts

It has come to my attention recently that the Pope rocks. For a variety of reasons, truly, with his awesome hat not least among the reasons. However, recently I've been reading some of his stuff, and you know what, he rocks even more than I knew! So, I wanted to share some reflections based on quotes from Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVI, in his homily to the Dean of the College of Cardinals at the Mass for the Election of the Roman Pontiff.

"To the extent that we draw near to Christ, in our own life, truth and love merge. Love without truth would be blind; truth without love would be like 'a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal' (1 Cor 13:1)."

I'm a big fan of truth. I like to know as much about it as possible. In my less cowardly moments, I like to defend and expound the truth as I have come to know it. But I think that one of my problems is that I forget the "love" part. Proclaiming truth is an act of love, and even defending the truth is not an act of hostility. I have to remind myself of this whenever I feel: a) hostile towards people who don't believe as I do, b) sarcastic towards what other people take very seriously, or c) in any way personally superior towards people I don't agree with. Because truly our goal as Christians isn't just to be self-assured and confident in our own faith but to spread that to other people, and no one's going to listen to you if you're that "clashing cymbal." So while we can sneer at the people who are blind to the truth, they might just cover their ears because we're making so much darn noise without actually making music. (John Zorn?)

"The mercy of Christ is not a cheap grace; it does not presume a trivialization of evil."

This is one thing that bugs me rather a lot; people are unwilling to admit that they sin, except perhaps in a very general way -- "Oh, yes, I'm not perfect." They say that it makes people fearful, guilty Christians. I say that it is a danger to Christianity. It cheapens the mission of Christ. We needed him, and still need him, to die on the cross for us because we are that far gone. We are all miserable sinners incapable of pleasing God by our own efforts. And when we do bad things, it is a big deal. When we try to rationalize our sin away, we are perhaps unintentionally actually trying to rationalize away our need for a savior. When we try and tell ourselves we're not really sick, aren't we also saying that we don't really need a doctor? And when we start telling ourselves that we don't really need God -- well, that's pride, and we know where that got the human race (see sin, original). There is nothing worse than trying to make something evil out to be something good, because that is doing directly evil's work. We are warned that sometimes Satan is "transformed into an angel of light" (2 Cor 11:14) -- and heaven forbid we should be helping him with his costume.

This ties back with the first quote. The people who try to advocate the "I'm okay, you're okay" sort of philosophy are often also the ones who preach so love so strongly and think that in not confronting anyone with their sin they're being "loving" like Christ was. In addition to the fact that it doesn't represent the nature of true divine love, it represents a split between love and truth, which makes one "blind." In the same way, just emphasizing how miserable and pathetic we all are, while containing some measure of truth, doesn't account for the love God has for us, and, just like all those terrible noises, it isn't pleasant or beneficial to hear that sort of thing outside its proper context. There's a balance.

[Side note: There's two things I love about Catholic theology that I would have had no way of loving before I actually knew some stuff about it -- first, there's always that balance. I've read people say that it's not an "either/or" deal, most of the time, but a "both/and." Truth and charity. Faith and works by grace. Intercession of the saints and direct prayer to God. Theologians and mystics, all in the same Church. It gives people the idea that Catholicism is overly "complicated," but I tend to just say to that that God is complicated. And secondly, it all connects so beautifully, but it's sometimes so hard to see that until you have enough of it dusted off and you can just stand back and look at all the intricate threads woven throughout...]

"At the hour in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus transformed our rebellious human will in a will shaped and united to the divine will. He suffered the whole experience of our autonomy -- and precisely bringing our will into the hands of God, he gave us true freedom."

I'm still experimenting with the theory that extreme humanism causes more problems in civilization than any other philosophy, and humanism comes down to pride. So I tend to agree with whoever it was that said pride is chief among all the sins. It's the first sin. It's my worst sin, so maybe that's why I'm so fascinated by it. But I can't help but think that if we weren't so darn confident about ourselves all the time, we might have a few less issues to deal with.

This in turn goes back to the "trivialization of sin" and consequent reduction of the role Christ must play in our lives. Doesn't humanity want to be its own savior, its own God? In denying our own sin, aren't we just saying that we don't want to acknowledge ourselves to be as base as we truly are, needing as much help as we truly do? We don't acknowledge any authority greater than ourselves anymore, which is dangerous because we're really not all that we're cracked up to be by our world. Submission is a dirty word, these days, but it shouldn't be, because it is the key to our salvation.

Adam and Eve wanted to be like God, and that desire, which we are all a part of, has spawned inumerous ills. And then comes Jesus and he is God but how does he spend his life? Teaching us by example how to serve. At Gethsemene, he demonstrates his humanity, asking his Father to "let this cup pass." But even as he experiences the weight of agony that is the pride of humanity, he says "Yet, not as I will, but as you will," the ultimate declaration of faith and submission. And then he goes to the cross, as his Father wills, and in that action of humility the pride of Adam is countered. A similar comparison that is often made with Mary: her submission to the will of God by accepting his call to her is in opposition to the pride of Eve, who by urging Adam to eat the apple seeks to undermine the will of God.

And what is this "true freedom"? If we don't recognize any authority higher than ourselves, it's a pity, because that means that all our "power" is derived from an authority that frankly is nothing compared with the power that we might serve. We limit ourselves by placing ourselves as our own highest standard. We are slaves to our own insignificance, whereas God offers us a chance to be free from the boundaries of ourselves.

So anywho, those are some gems from der Papst, and here's a final quote to think on!

"The only thing which remains forever is the human soul, the human person created by God for eternity. The fruit which remains then is that which we have sowed in human souls -- love, knowledge, a gesture capable of touching the heart, words which open the soul to joy in the Lord. Let us then go to the Lord and pray to him, so that he may help us bear fruit which remains."

Viva il Papa!

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Today's Devotional Passage

The Lord Sends Quail

And there went forth a wind from the LORD, and brought quails from the sea, and let them fall by the camp, as it were a day's journey on this side, and as it were a day's journey on the other side, round about the camp, and as it were two cubits high upon the face of the earth.
Numbers 11:31
King James Version

It is good for us to realize that, even when our lives seem hopeless and dark, Our Lord has a vast supply of strange animals to send our way.

When using this passage as a hopeful meditation, however, it is unwise to then continue reading and find that Our Lord did quite a bit of smiting as the people were eating the quail. The people of the Lord, thus smote, promised to go easy on the quail next time.

And so, in order to apply this story of the quail to our everyday lives, I would just urge all of you to, next time you see a bunch of quail coming your way, watch out for plague.

And I would just like to boast that I have actually seen a flock of live quail before. And escaped unsmote.

The world's gone crazy

Just what is so wrong with a Catholic organization being true to the teachings of the Catholic Church?

And now people are going on about how it's such a tragedy, which it is. It's a tragedy that a group has to completely stop providing a desparately needed service for children because they cannot otherwise operate within the bounds of their Catholic mission. People say that same-sex couples are being discriminated against; I say that Catholics who want to be true to their conscience are being discriminated against.

And isn't adoption all about excluding people? Thus, the interviews and the long application process? It's about deciding what is a good home to send children into. And according to Catholic teaching, that's a home with a mother and a father. It would be wrong for a Catholic to place a child in a home considered to be dangerous mentally, developmentally, and spiritually. But because Catholic Charities could be forced to do this, they have decided not to place children at all. And people are freaking out!

Why, oh why, do people get so outraged when Catholics teach Catholic things? They're all, "It's okay to be a Catholic, because everyone's right and finds their own truth, but when you actually start living like a Catholic... well, that's completely different!"

I would just like to say right now that I am sick and tired of all the people who claim to be so tolerant of every belief system except for the one that claims their belief system sucks. "I don't believe anyone should have the right to tell anyone else what's right and what's wrong," they say, "and because you're trying to tell me what's right and wrong, you're wrong." Hullo!

I will not deny anyone the right to believe whatever they want, but I'm not going to call it right, and I'm not going to stop trying to convince them that they're wrong. And quite frankly, I have a lot more respect for people who try to convince me that I'm wrong than I do for people who want to assume that everybody's right. They, at least, understand what truth is.