Journeys of a Catholic Poster Girl

This one, just for my writing. I’ve got my new novel (work in progress) up…here.

I took my annual vacation to NYC this year, which, of course, included Mass at St. Patrick’s yesterday at 10:15.

Now I have been to NYC before. I have been in St. Pat’s on New Year’s Eve (around 4:00ish) and have seen it packed with tourists snapping photos and generally creating a rather circus-like atmosphere for people who were actually there to pray. But it wasn’t time for Mass and it wasn’t a holy day (yet–January 1 is, in the US, since it is a Marian feast and Mary is the patroness of the United States). So I was prepared for a bit of hoopla.

This time it was different. First, I was going there for Mass. The 9:00 had just let out when we got there, and people were milling around, going up and down,t aking pictures, wandering up the main aisle to snap a few pictures of the altar and windows and then meandering back down. There’s even a gift shop in the church proper, which I wasn’t too keen on.

Around 9:50 or so my friend and I got seats. They were sort of in the middle on the left side, and there are TV monitors on some of the pillars now, so no matter where you are, you can see the priest/cantor/lector. The use of incense in the Mass was wonderful, as was the music, the choir, and the reverence shown by all who were ministers at the Mass (the altar boys, especially, could show ours a thing or two!).

So what bugged me? Well, first off, how NOISY is was in there before Mass actually began. I didn’t like the constant picture snapping. And it wasn’t just from tourists–it was from the congregation, too! I mean people in the pews, ostensibly preparing for Mass, are snapping photos! Hello! Not appropriate whilst one is trying to prepare for Mass.

The Mass itself was quieter, since the main aisles are closed so people cannot just wander. Communion was a bit disorienting, because you just sort of went up whenever you felt like it. There weren’t any ushers to dismiss the pews, which I think would’ve been a VAST improvement.

There just seemed to be a lack of reverence, which cannot be faulted on the priest or the ministers. It’s just that it’s sucha major tourist place that the tourists distract from everything.

On the plus side, people did seem to dress a lot better than I’ve seen of late. There were even a few little boys in suit coats.

I do not know how normal NYCers can pray there. I would go crazy.

I don’t normally talk about this.

Partially because I’m not sure if it technically happened. I mean, I was under the influence of some very, very powerful drugs at the time. I was in a drug-induced coma, fighting a bizarre infection that only one other person in the world had ever had–but we didn’t know that at the time. We didn’t know what was wrong with me. So for two weeks I was in Children’s ICU, in a drug-induced coma, while medical science pumped me full of almost every drug known to Man to figure out what was causing my body to rapidly shut down and infection to rage through my already scarred and battered lungs unchecked.

It was October of 2001. Fears of anthrax and bio-terrorism were alive and well, and I was being treated for those, too. It was, in general, a time of fear, of gloom, of the sense that the world was contracting around us. The Afghan ground war had begun. I was a sophomore in college–19.
I don’t remember precisely when the vision happened. Time in an ICU is very fluid anyway, and this was especially so for me. Previously I had dreamed myself in California, in a beauty pageant, shopping, and as part of a musical, where I had the lead role and was trying to convince my parents to let me quit school to take it.  So visions and fantasies of things that were not happening were quite frequent, and very vivid.

But this was different.

My devotion to Mary has been well-cultivated. My father had a particular devotion to Our Lady of Fatima, and I’ve had a statue of that apparition since I was about 7 years old–Mary on the bush, with Lucia, Francisco and Jacinta kneeling around her, lambs at their sides (they were Portuguese shepard kids). Mary has always played a very large part in my Catholicism. My parents and visitors to my room prayed frequent rosaries, and noted that it seemed to calm my erratic vital signs.

In my dream I was going to Rome (something I have always wanted to do). We were on an airplane en route, and there was, for some reason, a small, dark chapel on board the plane, where confessions were being heard. I was in line, waiting for my turn with the priest.

And then there was a wonderful, radiant light in front of me. I wasn’t on the floor anymore, but hovering slightly above it. It was Our Lady of Grace, my (at that time) favorite image of Mary–the one where she’s in the blue cloak, arms extended, standing on the globe with the snake under her feet (the same image that’s on the Immaculate Medal). There were two angels, one on each side, the Raphelite ones we’re so used to seeing.

She spoke. “It is not your time–your mission has not been fulfilled.” (Yes, she said mission. Not my word.) She said some other things, but, sadly, I don’t remember them. This one sentence is all I remember.

I was filled with an incredible peace and lightness. Happiness. Total acceptance and I seemed to be swimming in grace–it was like her light was inbued with it. Like I could drink it in. It lasted a few more minutes, just her, standing there, with the angels, smiling.  The only other time I ever feel even a touch of that is when I receive the Eucharist at Mass.

I don’t know if it actually happened. I don’t know if the drugs were just working on my psyche. But God works in mysterious ways, even in times when we’re not conscious (literally) of it. It was wonderful and calming and emotional. And even now, when I have bad days or feel like I have been abandoned, I can remember that moment and feel a shadow of that peace and repose that she gave me.

Real or not, it is the greatest gift God has ever given me–the idea that we all have a mission, we will see it through if we simply Trust In Him and do what He asks. All of us are precious and important to Him. And He will lift us up, even from the brink of death (and I am not exaggerating) to come back and serve Him better, to spread His love to His Children.

And that is why, after years of holding this inside and not sharing it, I have felt compelled to write it down and share it with you. I hope that it can help you in your relationship with God in some small way.

Before I head off for my vacay in NYC (thank God for it!), I will leave you with Part V of Oscar Wilde’s incomparable “The Ballad of Reading Gaol” (”Jail” to us American English kids), written as a reflection in Capital Punishment, conditions in the jail where he spent two years for debts, and a religious reflection. Be sure to read the whole thing here.

Part V

I know not whether Laws be right,

Or whether Laws be wrong;

All that we know who lie in gaol

Is that the wall is strong;

And that each day is like a year

A year whose days are long.

But this I know, that every Law

That men have made for Man,

Since first Man took his brother’s life,

And the sad world began,

But straws the wheat and saves the chaff

With a most evil fan.

This too I know–and wise it were

If each could know the same–

That every prison that men build

Is built with bricks of shame

And bound with bars lest Christ should see

How men their brothers maim.

With bars they blur the gracious moon,

And blind the goodly sun:

For in it things are done

That Son of God nor son of Man

Ever should look upon!

The vilest deeds like poison weeds,

Bloom well in prison-air;

It is only what is good in Man

That wastes and withers there;

Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate,

And the Warder is Despair.

For they start the little frightened child

Till it weeps both night and day;

And they scourge the weak and flog the fool,

And gibe the old and grey,

And some grow mad, and all grow bad,

And none a word may say.

Each narrow cell in which we dwell

is a foul and dark latrine,

And the fetid breath of living Death

Chockes up each grated screen,

And all, but Lust, is turned to dust

In Humanity’s machine.

The brackish water that we drink

Creeps with a loathsome slime,

And the bitter bread they weigh in scales

is full of chalk and lime

And Sleep will not lie down, but walks,

Wild-eyes, and cries to Time.

…

With midnight always in one’s heart,

And twilight in one’s cell,

We turn the crank, or tear the rope,

Each in his seperate Hell,

And the silence is more awful far

Than the sound of a brazen bell.

And never a human voice comes near

To speak a gentle word:

And the eye that watches through the door

Is pitiless and hard:

And by all forgot, we rot and rot,

With soul and body marred.

And thus we rust Life’s iron chain

Degraded and alone:

and some men curse, and some men weep,

And some men make no moan:

But God’s eternal Laws are kind

And break the heart of stone.

And every human heart that breaks,

In prison-cell or yard,

Is as that broken box that gave

Its treasure to the Lord,
And filled the unclear leper’s house

With the scent of costliest nard.

Ah! Happy they whose hearts can break

And peace of pardon win!

How else may man make straight his plan
And cleanse his soul from Sin?

How else but through a broken heart

May Lord Christ enter in?

And he of the swollen purple throat,

And the stark and staring eyes,

Waits for the Holy hands that took

The Thief to Paradise;

And a broken and a contrite heart

The Lord will not despise.

…

And with tears of blood he cleansed the hand,m

The hand that held the steel:

The only blood can wipe out blood,

And only tears can heal:

And the crimons stain that was of Cain

Became Christ’s snow-white seal.

From Rod–well DUH!!! (my emphases in bold)

IVF
Matt Yglesias writes: “I’m also always curious as to where the opponents of stem cell research stand on issues related to in-vitro fertilization.”

His point — and it’s a good one — is that if you oppose embryonic stem-cell research because it takes a fully human life, then you are logically bound to oppose in vitro fertilization, because that process results in the creation of more embryos — that is, people, to the anti-ESCR crowd — which will inevitably be discarded.

Yglesias is right, which is why I think IVF should be outlawed. Of course it won’t be outlawed, and in fact there is no meaningful constituency opposing it. Reluctantly, I have to admit that if the logical contradiction were put to anti-ESCR politicians, the result would be not a gain in converts to the anti-IVF side, but the loss of proponents on the anti-ESCR side. I don’t see how you can be in favor of one but not the other.

In fact, I’d guess we’d sooner see abortion outlawed in this country than IVF. Why? Because IVF has been thoroughly mainstreamed by the middle class. There’s no “ick” factor. And hey, it makes babies; what, you’re against babies? You’re against human happiness? Etc.

If you buy that moral reasoning — and I do not — then on what grounds can you oppose ESCR?

You know, I love it when the Church wins another round in the Logic Wars. Isn’t it great?

“None of that now, none of that…And you playing fingers in the holy water!”

–The Quiet Man

Ever heard of Neuhaus’s Law? It’s Father Richard John Neuhaus’s observation that “Wherever orthodoxy is optional, it sooner or later will be proscribed.” This news from Father Neuhaus’s old communion, the mainline Evangelical Liberal Church of America (ELCA), seems to me to be a pretty good example of Neuhaus’s Law in action. Excerpt:

The country’s largest Lutheran denomination officially bars openly gay people from the ministry. But in a move that advocates for gays are hailing as a step toward changing that policy, the denomination is urging bishops to refrain from disciplining gay and lesbian clergy members who are in committed same-sex relationships.A resolution to that effect was passed last weekend in Chicago by delegates to the biennial meeting of the Churchwide Assembly of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America.

Church officials said it did not signal a change in policy. But they said a denomination task force is completing “a social statement,” or theological document, on human sexuality, to be discussed in 2009, and the resolution allows bishops to hold off, in the interim, on taking action against gay and lesbian ministers in their jurisdictions.

Robert Tuttle, counsel to the Bishop of the Metropolitan Washington synod, said, “What it changes is that it gives bishops some cover who want to exercise discretion to not bring charges.”

Those who support the ordination of openly gay and lesbian people hailed the vote.

“Full inclusion and acceptance is still down the road, but the dam of discrimination has been broken,” said Emily Eastwood, executive director of Lutherans Concerned/North America. “The church is on the road to acceptance.”

Does anybody — no matter where you stand on homosexuality and religion — doubt that she’s right in that last prediction? Within 10 years, the ELCA will vindicate Neuhaus’s Law. Watch.

Isn’t it amazing, how God always knows what we need to hear, and when we need to hear it?

My contentedness with a single state goes back and forth, like tides. Some days I am quite happy to be alone in my apartment, running my life to my satisfaction (well, so I think :)), deciding what I will and will not do, what social engagements I will take, and the like. I am free to do what I please without asking another person (for the most part). But there are also moments, which have surfaced this week, where I have acutely wanted another person here, to share my thoughts, my life, my activities.

Today my devotional reading was from 2 Timothy, verse 16: “At my first defense no one came to my support, but all deserted me. May it not be counted against them!” The overall passage was sort of esoteric, so I was interested to see what take the meditation would follow. This is what I got:

We must not conclude that the spiritual life rescues single persons from the pain of loneliness. It does not. any times I’ve been acutely aware of my singleness and really felt lonely: preparing a meal for one, asking for a single table in a restaurant, feeling out of it in the midst of a laughing crowd. Sometimes I wake up at night and wonder what will happen to me when I grow old and sick and no spouse or children, no fellow community members are there to take care of me.

This awareness of my aloneness could cause me to become anxious and depressed. I try to remember the positive, spiritual meaning and the psychological contentment that comes with being single: blessing my quiet apartment at the end of a busy day, staying in or going out as a I please, calling a friend or silencing the ring on my phone so I can spend the evening reading and praying. Loneliness slowly changes into solitude also when I recommit myself to the Lord and enjoy his companionship.

In solitude I bring my whole being–physical, emotional, spiritual–before God and ask him for the grace I need to live my single calling joyfully. I do not want to fall into sef-pity or madly seek some meaningful encounter. God knows I need his help to live a harmonious inner and outer life, avoiding the either/or extremes that often tempt singoles: either too much withdrawal or too much involvement.

Personally, as a Christian, I try to center my singleness in the heart of Jesus, the Single Word spoken by the Father. In the Word made Flesh, I am at home with my single calling and united spiritually with all other people, contemplatively present to his will and actively serving the members of his kingdom.

This is just lovely.

From Angela:

1. Favorite saints?

St. Therese, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Maria Goretti, St. Gianna, St. Peter, St. Thomas Moore, St. Emily
, 2. Favorite devotion?

Rosary, my Madgnifcat missal

3. Favorite medal?
St. Emily, Miraculous Medal

4. Favorite Mass time?

10:15 or 11 ish.

5. Favorite intention?

Don’t have one.