Attraction, Not Promotion

I have often been blunt in my criticisms of slipshod Catholics, even prelates. I don't say the criticisms weren't merited.

But I have recently had occasion to reflect on what drew me into the Church, then, much later, to the traditional Latin Mass.

I came into the Church because it was only there that I found the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ. That made all other arguments irrelevant to me.

The attraction to the Latin Mass was more gradual. I engaged with many online Trads for several years, and what I experienced was denigration of the "novas ordo" and the implication that that worship was inferior or even invalid. Even though I hated liturgical abuse and the silliness I encountered in the 1980s, I reacted defensively to such attacks. I knew that, whatever its deficiencies, any valid Mass offered the true presence of Jesus Christ and the opportunity to receive Him in Holy Communion.

One voice was different. He made no secret of his love for the Latin Mass--he referred to himself as a "knuckle-dragging traditionalist." But he never suggested that I was evil or deluded for attending the Pauline Mass. He sent me a video 📹 of the traditional Mass (since there wasn't one within hundreds of miles of me), along with some Latin devotional materials). Ever gentle, ever respectful.

When I moved to San Diego, I found I had some colleagues who assisted at the Latin Mass (the bishop grudgingly permitted a Sunday Mass in the mausoleum, but no parish activities or weekday Masses). Then one week I was invited to a Mass and talk given by the regional superior of the FSSP. I wanted to hear the talk, so I went to the Mass. That's it. Remote preparation, curiosity, and a simple invitation. No bluntness required.

Later, I had the opportunity to meet Abbot of Fontgombault Dom Antoine Forgeot when he came to Oklahoma to acquire land for the Clear Creek foundation. Most striking were his holiness and humility. I later found the same in all of the founding monks, these men who had undergone a white martyrdom for decades to preserve their traditional Liturgy and Rites. Those qualities have brought them such an abundance of vocations that within scarcely a decade they are already making a second, possibly a third, foundation.

I have often said that the occupational hazard of the apologist is to focus on winning the argument rather than the soul. For the traditionalist, I sometimes think the focus is on being right instead of being loving.

By "loving," of course, I don't mean sentimental or cuddly. I mean wanting the good for another, and humbly offering to help him achieve that good. As I look back on my own conversions, I realize that they were effected by attraction, not argument. I saw someone living his faith deeply, and I wanted what he had.

The question I am forced to ask myself is: If someone witnessed the way I live my faith, would he want what I have? And, if so, would I know how to help him get it?

Selective Outrage from Liberal Historian

I listened to the Fresh Air interview on NPR today. The subject of Adam Cohen's book, the eugenics movement in America, is shocking and tragic. It's one of those medical fashions that make us cringe to recall, like lobotomies and syphilis studies.

I recommend listening to the interview. It elucidates past maltreatment of those considered "undesirable" in the gene pool, both internal and immigrants. Indeed, immigration laws of the 1920s were specifically crafted to eliminate non-Nordic types from entering the country (and reproducing). Homegrown undesirables were often confined to institutions and/or forcibly sterilized. And the laws permitting the latter were upheld, and even recommended by the Supreme Court, 8 to 1. The only dissent was from the lone Catholic on the high Court. Cohen credited Catholics as the *only* group that made an effort to defend such persons at that time.

Therefore, I was dumbfounded, as I  listened, that he made absolutely no reference in the entire interview to Planned Parenthood or its founder, Margaret Sanger, who was prominent in the eugenics movement, and who referred to blacks and other undesirables as "human weeds" who must be eradicated. Her goal was the betterment of the white race by eliminating non-whites' ability to reproduce.

Cohen's omission was even more striking after he quoted the 3,500-year-old Code of Hammurabi, the set of Babylonian precepts that prefigured the Ten Commandments. The purpose of the government, it says, is to protect the weakest members of the culture from the strongest. That, Cohen says, is still the function of law.

Yet he fails to make the connection between the "weakest" citizens and the unborn who are murdered or the newborn who are allowed to die. He sees no relationship between eugenics and the exploitation of the unwanted, and the racist abortion industry committing genocide. He makes no mention of the selling of baby parts or the adoption of horrific techniques to take living organs from still-living fetuses.

Cohen gives a list of shameful Supreme Court decisions, going back to Dred Scott, which failed to uphold the rights of the helpless against the more powerful. But utter silence on Roe v. Wade, the one decision that will ultimately be seen as the most horrifying of all, the decision that condemned 55 million innocent Americans to death. No mention of that travesty of justice, or the heroic role of the Catholic Church in decrying it.

No, Cohen rather takes a swipe at the late Justice Antonio Scalia, whom he accuses of championing the causes of the strong against the weak.

I was left speechless and angry, not only at Cohen's glaring bias, but at host Terri Gross's negligence in failing to confront him on the omissions. Extremely disappointing, NPR. I hope you will give equal coverage and equally softball questions to a representative of the prolife position. I would be delighted to furnish names.

Ready for the Second Coming?

A commenter on a recent post declared that the Lord was "the biggest progressive/liberal in history," and asked, "Are you ready for the Second Coming?" This was essentially my reply: Jesus was a progressive, in that he challenged the Jews of his culture to see the Almighty in a new way, and to integrate the demands of Law with those of Love. He was not "progressive" in the contemporary sense of seeking greater and greater civil authority over people, He didn't say, "Sell all your neighbor has and give to the poor." He didn't advocate for immorality, corruption, or covetousness; he said, "Go and sin no more." The progressives of *his* day are more comparable to the money-changers he drove from the Temple. Yes, Jesus was a radical, in the original sense of the term (radix = root). He calls us to return to our true roots, union with and obedience to Almighty God. Politics have zero to do with it. He said to pay your taxes, obey secular laws unless sinful, and pray for civil rulers. A simple program for political life. In a democratic republic, we have the additional obligation to vote and to support just laws. But the earth is not our home; it's a bus station waiting room, complete with characters. Hell, yes, I am ready for the Parousia! I will turn 70 this month; not many do-overs left for me, so I commend myself to the mercy of God and pray for a holy death. The Lord will come, for me at least, relatively soon. Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!

Monarchy or Republic?

There's no question that a democratic Republic can be tyrannical, corrupt, and ultimately self-destructive. It is subject to all the effects of original sin. However, in a republic there is always a remedy for abuse short of regicide. Yes, huge governments are unwieldy and inherently unjust. That's why I am passionate about states' rights an an agrarian culture. The fundamental unit of government is the county, and as far as possible things should be run from there, with recourse to state or federal governments only when a task is too great for the county. And that's precisely the system our Founders established. In much of America, that's still how it works. Most of the faults in our Republic stem from the usurpation of local powers solidified after the Civil War. Can there be injustice in a local government? Certainly. We're still dealing with fallen human nature. But it seems to me that governance, overall, is bound to be fairer if the governor has to face the governed daily, to sit by them in church or see them in Walmart. Some young idealists yearn for a return to monarchy. Taken as a whole, though, I believe the average citizen in a democratic republic is better served, freer, and more prosperous than in a monarchy. I think this has been true throughout history, with the possible exception of the monastic system in the Middle Ages. Then the abbots ruled large swaths of farmland, and the farmers who worked there were fairly, even kindly, treated and could avoid contact with the secular government for the most part. The worst injustice they faced was taxation by greedy monarchs to finance wars and lavish homes. Now, many feel that our democratic system isn't working any longer. Elections are riddled with fraud, candidates are limited by lack of money, and tyrannical political correctness, and the courts have arrogated rights never envisioned by the Founders. But at least we can *change* this system to reflect the common will. Through elections, Constitutional amendments, litigation, as well as simply speaking out, we *do* have the power to alter the polity.

When yarn says "I love you"

Afghans. We still have afghans crocheted by my grandmother, who lived to be 103. She continued crocheting long after she was unable to walk and her eyesight was failing. If someone would start her on a color, she could proceed by touch.

I've only made a few afghans in my life. Crafts R not us.  But each one I made was a special labor of love. When I was separated from my son for the first time, I did an oversized "Indian blanket" Afghan in brilliant hues, which I sent with the note: "A big, colorful afghan for my big, colorful kid." I think it made both of us happy.

Today, it needs a little repair--some loose ends--but it pleases me that, of all his possessions that have come and gone over the past 25 years, he still has this one.  ❤

Cor Sacratissima, miserere nobis!

Traditionally, the month of June is dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, that so human heart that loved, rejoiced, wept, and suffered as Christ lived His earthly life, and which finally was pierced by the soldier's spear as He died on the cross. Scripture tells us that water and blood poured forth from that wound, an image that has nourished countless Christian meditations through the centuries, and which reappears most recently in St. Faustina's representation of Divine Mercy. First popularized by Thirteenth-Century Benedictine Abbess St. Gertrude, the devotion was renewed in modern times the visions of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, a French Visitandine nun, in the Seventeenth Century. It is perhaps not surprising that this focus on the Heart of Christ has been proclaimed primarily through women. Although it's certainly a facile generalization that men follow their heads, while women follow their hearts, it's true that the gift of empathy seems to be abundantly showered on women. They have been called "the heart of the home," and the glue that binds families--and hence society--together. In Isaiah 40:15-16, God tells us that He loves us with an intense maternal love: "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me." Reading this, any mother who has ever nursed a child knows exactly how strong is God's love for us. And although Jesus is God, He is also man, and He loves us, each of us, with the same fond, foolish love a mother feels for her baby. It is this deeply human love that devotion to the Sacred Heart represents. Such love is only one of the perfections of God. He is certainly not "God the Mother." The Sacred Heart shows one aspect of God's nature; He has an infinity of qualities, something not always grasped by non-Christians and some Protestant Christians. The Bible itself gives Him many names, however. When I was in graduate school in Nashville, the Protestant Vatican, I used to keep a holy card on my assigned library carrel of "Jesus Christ, Teacher." You've seen it: JesuIs holding a book open for us to read. One day when I went to the library I found that someone had scratched out "Teacher" and penciled in "Savior." How I wished I could tell that anonymous editor that, yes! He is our Savior. And our Teacher, and our King, and our Redeemer Who paid the price of our sins. So how does devotion to the Sacred Heart fit in today? Does anyone practice it as revealed to St. Margaret Mary? Among other things revealed to her were promises of incredible graces for those who promote this devotion, enthrone an image of the Sacred Heart in their homes, and assist at Mass on nine First Fridays to offer reparation for the insults given to the Lord by sin. Shortly after I became a Catholic in 1980, I did my best to carry out these requests. They didn't seem old-fashioned to me, but a means to express my love and gratitude for so great a Savior, and my sorrow at having ignored and offended Him for so many years. In the South, when something profoundly saddens someone, he says, "That just hurts my heart!" Maybe during this month of the Sacred Heart, we can reflect on what things are hurting the very human Heart of Jesus nowadays. Beheadings and rapes and destruction of churches? Lukewarm Catholics who flout His teachings? Wholesale mockery of Christians by the secular culture? The plight of refugees from wars and disasters? Probably. But what am I doing to sadden Him? I know I am doing something, because I am a sinner, and it is sin that grieves this Heart of perfect Love. For more than a century, Catholics have prayed the Litany of the Sacred Heart to console the Heart of Jesus and in.crease our love for Him. I propose it as a daily prayer during June. Cor sacratissima, miserere nobis! Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us.

So far, so good

Relaxing in a recliner in the infusion center receiving my second Benlysta treatment.  Is it my imagination, or do I already see some little improvement in my fatigue level? I still tire very easily, but I'm not spending ALL day semi-horizontal. This morning I awoke at a normal time, then folded laundry, changed the kitty litter, made a decent brekfast, dressed, applied makeup, and was ready when my ride came. Wonders.