Journeys of a Catholic Poster Girl

From First Things: (my emphases in bold)

When Not Aborting Is Immoral

Posted by Keith Pavlischek on September 19, 2008, 4:34 PM

From over on starboard side, Nicholas Provenzo of the Center for the Advancement of Capitalism is “troubled” by the implications of Gov. Sarah Palin’s “decision to knowingly give birth to a child disabled with Down syndrome.” He thinks “it is crucial to reaffirm the morality of aborting a fetus diagnosed with Down syndrome (or by extension, any unborn fetus)—a freedom that anti-abortion advocates seek to deny.” Here’s his line of thinking:  

A parent has a moral obligation to provide for his or her children until these children are equipped to provide for themselves. Because a person afflicted with Down syndrome is only capable of being marginally productive (if at all) and requires constant care and supervision, unless a parent enjoys the wealth to provide for the lifetime of assistance that their child will require, they are essentially stranding the cost of their child’s life upon others.

 (me: So, I guess I shouldn’t be here, right, because, you know, some CF people are only “marginally productive.” Who in the world has the right to say what is and what is not productive? How can we be so callous as to reduce human life to production, to economic terms!?)

 

Meanwhile, on the port side, Paul Ehrlich, author of “The Population Bomb,” treats us to this little thought:

I believe it is immoral and should be illegal for people to have very large numbers of children because they are then co-opting for themselves and their children resources that should be spread elsewhere in the world. You only get a chance to get your fair share. 

To the follow-up question, “How many is ‘very large’”? Ehrlich responds:

The issue is: What is the political position to take? In a country like the United States, we should stop at two. But if you had an ideal situation, you might have a lot of people who have no children at all, and some people who have as many as three or four because they happen to be particularly good parents, and are going to raise their children very well. 

Me: OK, so let’s make this a bit less hypothetical. 

“Let’s stop at two”–that means neither of my parents, both the third child in their families, wouldn’t have been born. 

On my mom’s side, more specifically, that means that my Uncle Tim and my Aunts Sue, Patty, Mary, and Amy would not have been born. Hence I would not have my fantastic aunts and uncles, I would not have my godfather, and I would not have my godson. My grandparents, instead of having 25 grandchildren to love, would have four–Julie, Jeff, Diane and Megan–and four great-grandchildren. 

If, by some miracle, my parents did squeak by, then my little sister would not have been born. Sorry, Mel. Neither would the siblings of many of my friends, especially in the families where the first two children are twins.  

What kind of absolute nonsense is this!? People can have as many kids as they want without subjecting the number to some government entity. Yes, you should be able to take care of the kids you bring into the world. I am not advocating that we all go out and produce like rabbits, here. But NO ONE can tell me or anyone else how many kids to have!

Side note: The social entitlements that the Left so enjoys are funded mainly by–guess what–tax receipts. If you have a growing aging population and a shrinking young population, then you do not have the resources to provide for these massive entitlements, like Social Security and Medicare. Look to Europe–as the birth rate declines, so does their inability to support their massive welfare states. 

The Bible says that Children are a blessing from the Lord–they are a reward! We are to “be fruitful and multiply.” The scathing comments about people with big families, people who trust in God’s providence, and who procreate, are just sickening. 

If I was married I would want at least three kids, and maybe four! I love my big family. I love my siblings. Big families are good training grounds for life. 

This sort of thinking is dangerous and needs to be stopped, pronto. Sure the environment and all that is important, but human beings are more so. 

As Jesus passed by he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither he not his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him.

Today’s Gospel is my favorite Gospel passage, since it reflects so neatly upon my own experience. Many people today share the same feelings as the disciples–if you have an illness, or are experiencing difficulties and trials, you must have “done something” to deserve them. Because God is a good and just God, so why would anyone endure trials or sufferings if they didn’t deserve them?

A corollary is also seen–people who are “oppressed and afflicted” (Isaiah 52) wonder what they have to done to offend God. “Why me, God?” can be a frequent cry (see the Book of Job). And here, Jesus provides the answer: “so that the works of God might be made visible through him.”

In Catholicism, Suffering is not Suffering for its own sake. As John Paul The Great wrote in his encyclical Salvifici Doloris (On the Meaning of Suffering) in 1984:

The Redeemer suffered in place of man and for man. Every man has his own share in the Redemption. Each one is also called to share in that suffering through which all human suffering has also been redeemed. In bringing about the Redemption through suffering, Christ has also raised human suffering to the level of the Redemption. Thus each man, in his suffering, can also become a sharer in the redemptive suffering of Christ.

In the Way of the Cross message of 2005, John Paul invokes Paul:

The adoration of the Cross directs us to a commitment that we cannot shirk: the mission that St. Paul expressed in these words: In my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the Church. (Colossians 1:24).

So here we have some of the basis of the Church’s doctrine of “Redemptive Suffering.” It is not a waste to suffer. God sees and sympathizes with us. All of us suffer to different degrees–spiritually, physically, mentally, etc. But this doesn’t mean that God doesn’t love us. Mother Teresa once said that in suffering, Jesus is bringing you close enough to Him so that He can embrace you, He can kiss you. Suffering brings you closer to God.

Sure, there are ways we’d like to get closer without actually suffering. I don’t know anyone who wakes up and says, “Yes! Today’s another chance to suffer! Woohoo!” But God does not abandon us. Even when we think he has–as Jesus did, on the cross, “My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?”–he has not. Through His Passion and Death, Jesus has been through everything a human being can endure. He knows what we are feeling.

Our suffering can bring others to him. When I was in the ICU in 2001, friends that hadn’t been to church in years went and prayed. The same thing happened during my transplant. I’m not aware of any Great Conversions from these experiences, but my circumstances brought other people before God, and made them aware of Him and His dominion over us. My talking and normal activities hadn’t done that–it took something very, very dramatic to get these kids into a church. Maybe they haven’t been since; I don’t know. But I know they were there at least once, asking God for a favor. Sometimes the “God as ATM” theory is the first way you get people to go to church–ask God for something and see what happens.

God’s work can be made manifest through you–but you have to consent to it.

Journeys of a CPG has been nominated for the Catholic Blog Awards!!!!

Voting starts on Monday….so you know what to do.

Thanks to those who nominated me. It really does mean a lot that someone finds these writings helpful.

I’ve said a few times on here that Catholicism can be hard. It’s sheer definitiveness can make it that way. But then again, the Cross wasn’t easy, either.

In my life there have a been a few big issues that contrasted what I want with what God wants. The first was birth control.

I want kids–those of you that read regularly know that is NO shock. But with CF, and now transplant, getting pregnant is one of those super-touchy-feely things. You can’t just “get” pregnant. You have to plan it like you’re planning the Omaha Beach invasion. Nurses ask me, pretty matter of course, whether or not I use birth control. It’s sort of a moot point ,regardless, since I don’t have a boyfriend now, but when I was engaged this was a doozy.

Obviously I was not going to use birth control. Fiance OK with this–for awhile. Then we began to fight about it. He didn’t want me to die for a baby. I said I didn’t want to be engaging in sinful behavior. I asked multiple priests whether or not a woman in my condition could use birth control. They said yes. I read the Catechism. It wasn’t quite so malleable (it’s late, but I’ll have the cite later for y’all). And I was torn.

I remember a discussion I had with my best friend about this. I said it really came down to how much I trusted God, didn’t it? Because God doesn’t give us more than I can handle (I did, and still do, believe this). She agreed that it was important to do what God wanted (for the record, she’s Lutheran, so this wasn’t like a fellow Catholic was shooting me the party line.). I prayed. I really agonized over this. And, in the end, it was one of the points that caused our relationship to end.

This has always been a problem with whomever I’ve dated. I don’t normally date casually–life’s too short, you know? So I figure I better stay on God’s good side. But this was an agonizing decision. I didn’t want to give up love. But I didn’t want to go against my faith, which has been my only constant.

The second issue is end of life stuff. Before my transplant, I wrote dozens of letters to people, and planned my funeral. Even if I did get the call, there was no guarantee of surviving major surgery. So I wrote it all down. I chose the “Suffering Servant” passage from Isaiah, the gospel where Jesus raised Lazarus. I chose hymns. And I told my parents that, if I was unable to make decisions for myself, I asked them to do what the Church required. Of course, the excellent Children’s Chaplain (the irreplaceable Fr. Mark) would be able to help them, since he was ministering there at the time. What the Church said, we would do.

Thinking about your own death when you’re 22 is not fun, let me tell you. But I’m glad I did it. It helped me solidify what is really important. Believe me, when I say that Catholicism can be hard, that Christianity can be hard, I know. I’ve struggled with the doctrine too. And for me, I’ve found that submitting to it is the way I find peace.

Everyone has crises of faith, doubts about their lives, their vocations, what God wants from them.

Yesterday was one of those days for me. I had gone to my faith sharing group and we had discussed things like submitting to the will of God, rejoicing in His plan for us, etc. And I kept thinking, “Well what if you desire something–something good, and holy–and you STILL don’t get it? What are you supposed to do then?”

I’ve wanted to be a wife and mother as long as I can remember. I think one of my professors in college had a heart attack when I told her that that’s what I wanted and I wouldn’t be going to law/grad school. It’s what most of the women in my life have done–my aunts, my friends’ mothers, etc. I want that kind of life.

But I also want to be a sister. I feel the calling, the attractiveness of that life. And of course the retreat next month will help me discern more clearly what I feel about this.

But what if I don’t get either? What if the convent doesn’t want me (or doesn’t think I fit) and I never get married? Why do I have these desires in me if they can’t be fulfilled?
So I was a little distraught about all this.

Today, I saw at least three different roses on three different occasions. Yup, I guess God is listening to me–a little.

From Magnificat (with some of my own additions):

Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton was born on August 28, 1774, in New york City, to a wealth and distinguished Episcopalian family. She was baptized in the Episcopal faith and was a faithful adherent to the Episcopal Church of England. Her mother died when she was a child and her father was a physician. In 1794, Elizabeth married businessman William Seton, and they raised five children in New York City. Her husband suffered a catastrophic business failure which forced the family to sell their home and depend on the kindness of relatives. William contracted tuberculosis and Elizabeth and Anna, one of their daughters, accompanied him to Leghorn, Italy, where he sought a cure. Sadly, he died there, and Elizabeth and Anna went to live for a time with the Felicci family, wealthy Italians who were friends of William’s. Impressed by their deep faith, Elizabeth decided to convert to Catholicsm upon her return to America. She made her professsion of faith in 1805, much to the displeasure of her family. At the behest of Bishop John Carroll, Elizabeth established the her Catholic school in Balitmore in 1808, which was open to all students regardless of their family’s ability in pay. In 1809 she founded the Daughters of Charity in Emmitsburg, Maryland. Her two boys were educated at Mount St. Mary’s and joined the American navy. Elizabeth lost two of her daughters, Anna and Rebecca, to tuberculosis. Her daughter Katherine survived. Her community spread to New York state, and as far as St. Louis, before she died on January 4, 1821. She was declared a Saint (the first American-born) by Pope Paul VI on September 14, 1975.

From St. Elizabeth’s writings:

O Father, the first rule of our dear Saviour’s life was to do your will. Let his will of the present moment be the first rule of our daily life and work, with no other desire but for its most full and complete accomplishment. Help us to follow it faithfully, so that doing what you wish we will be pleasing to you.

Lord Jesus, who was born for us in a stable, lived for us a life of pain and sorrow and died for us upon the cross; say for us in the hour of death, “Father, forgive,” and to your Mother, “behold your child.” Say to us, “This day you shall be with me in paradise.” Dear Saviour, leave us not, forsake us not. We thirst for you, Fountain of Living Water. Our days pass quickly along; soon all will be consummated for us. To your hands, we commend our spirits, not and forever. Amen.

St. Elizabeth Ann Seton is one of my favorite saints. I’ve seen the movie A Time for Miracles many times, and it helps butress my own feeling of vocation. In my ideal life, I would like to be her–married to a man she loved, children, a nun, a foundress, a teacher, etc. Her life was hard, I know. But still, she encompassed every part of a woman’s life in a truly unique way.

In grade school my parents took us to Emmitsburg to see St. Elizabeth’s home and school. You can still see the original school house she and the sisters used. St. Elizabeth is buried on the property, along with her children. It is a beautiful and peaceful place.

Some links:

On her life

Seton shrine in NYC (lower Manhattan)

The Emmitsburg Shrine (National shrine)

Tomorrow is The Big Day, or, if you prefer, The Day Before The Big Day. Since I sing Midnight Mass, Christmas Eve always feels like The Day to me, since it’s a long day.

Singing Midnight Mass is one of the privileges of being in the parish choir. This, with the Triduum, is our most intensive Mass and one that requires months of preparation. Tomorrow, along with the baking, celebrating, and traditional events, there will be much practicing of the cantata we are singing before Mass, as well as the Mass music proper.

Praising God in song and chant is one of my favorite ways to pray. While I have developed a love of contemplative, silent prayer, singing is a true release, an expression of my soul and what I really feel in that moment. The Christmas and Triduum Masses are especially prayerful, since the music tends to be the same every year, so I can truly delve into the mysteries of the lyrics and the Mass without being distracted by my part.

My choir has about 35 people, give or take. Tomorrow night we will meet and begin singing our program at 11:00. For about an hour our voices will set the stage for the Mass we are about to offer to the Lord. The music is not perfect, but it may well be tomorrow; the atmosphere has a way of changing us, motivating us to offer our best on this night. I, of course, will be pacing up and down the choir room and the vestibule, as is my habit, until we begin warm-up. I am always filled with nervous energy.

The Mass begins at Midnight, and our new pastor has an affinity for chant, which I love. So I imagine the Mass will be a bit longer than usual, but who cares? Midnight Mass is truly a joy to attend. Singing “Joy to the World” as the recessional is always a high point, as organ, flute, trumpets, and voices join together to praise The Word Made Flesh.

We will praise God with our litugry, our “work of the people”, as we welcome His Son to earth.  And I can think of no greater privilege than to welcome His Birth in song with my choir mates.

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Paper, even though I am a rather amateur wrapper.

2. Real tree or artificial? Fake.

3. When do you put up the tree? Thanksgiving.

4. When do you take the tree down? Epiphany. When the Christmas season is “over”.

5. Do you like eggnog? Um….haven’t had enough to make a call.

6. Favorite gift received as a child? The Care Bear kitchen set. I was about five and I opened all my gifts, and no kitchen set. We have photos of me looking very bereft. But then,lo and behold, Santa had left in in the basement! Tricky old guy. And we still have parts of it, so it was a very durable gift indeed.

7. Do you have a Nativity scene? Yes. They’re “S’mores” figurines–as in, the baby Jesus is a marshmallow in a graham cracker manager with a chocolate blanket. It’s super cute, but probably not the most reverent.

8. Hardest person to buy for? My mom.

9. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? I always receive good stuff.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? REAL CHRISTMAS CARDS, i.e., snail mail. And they go to just about everyone I know.

11. Favorite Christmas Movie? How the Grinch Stole Christmas (both cartoon and live action) and A Christmas Story.

12. When do you start shopping for Christmas? August.

13. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Nope

14. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Peppermint bark and Mom’s Christmas breakfast–sausage and cinnamon rolls. Mmmmmm.

15. Clear lights or colored on the tree? Color!

16. Favorite Christmas song: “O Holy Night”, “O Come, All Ye Faithful”

17. Travel at Christmas or stay home? We stay at home for Christmas day proper now; when I was little we used to have CHristmas at home early (it was AWESOME) then spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in Pittsburgh with relatives. Fantastic. Now Mom’s family all comes down here the 27th and we take over a hotel.

18. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer. Dasher, Dancer, PRancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzer, Rudolph.

19. Angel on the tree top or a star? Angel.

20. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Morning.

21. Most annoying thing about this time of year? People who try to eliminate Christmas carols, creches, etc. from every single place on Earth other than a Church. LET’S GET REAL!

 Someone want to tell me how the Church Jesus Christ founded, headed by his apostles, upon which “the gates of Hell shall not prevail” is heterodox? Because I’m missing it.

Sometimes, when I’m home and bored I like to poke around Wikipedia. Today I stumbled across the entry for the Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod (LCMS), which I am familiar with, having several friends who are of this denomination. There was a link to their official website . Once there, I found a link to the differences between Catholicism and the LCMS church. Well, I was a bit curious. I decided to check this out, because I have long wondered where, precisely, some of my friends had gotten their rather strange ideas of Catholicism.

The page lists 8 issues that are listed in the form of questions. A few of the points I found, um, interesting: my comments in bold
(Read on …)

Today’s gospel was perfect for my state of mind lately; Jesus spoke about not worrying what to say when you are questioned about your faith, because he will give you the words that no one can refute. He promised that “not a hair on [our] head[s]” will be lost. He takes such good care of us–I think that is something that we often forget.

We think that if God loved us, then He’d sort of “leave us alone”; that is, we’d have enough money, perfect health, etc., etc. Everything would be easy. But if you look at the lives of those God and Jesus loved, it was the exact opposite. Mary was told at Jesus’ presentation that a sword would pierce her heart. John, the “beloved disciple”, died in exile on Patmos. Peter and some of the other apostles were crucified. How many saints had illness, the “dark night”, doubt, pain, fear? Almost all of them. Look at Jesus himself, the “beloved Son”–crucified. For love of us. God’s love is, to our human way of thinking,a funny kind of love. But we have to remember that His knowledge is perfect. He wants us to be with Him in Heaven, and if that takes discomfort and pain, etc., then that’s what it takes. And it doesn’t take that for everyone. I’m re-reading St. Teresa of Avila’ s The Interior Castle, and in her discussion of the First Mansion, she discusses this point, saying, “there are different way of being in this castle”; she writes later that “if we start with the false principle of wishing God to follow our will and to lead us in the way we think best, upon what firm foundation can this spiritual edifice rest?” RTusting God is vital. But that doesn’t mean we can’t doubt. Mother Angelica said

Don’t worry if you have doubts. Doubts do not displease God. They are permitted by Him–permitted to bring out the depth of faith within us.

But this was all just one part of the Gospel. The other part, the first part, about not being afraid of what to say because Jesus will give us the words, is what I’ve been dealing with lately. So many people seem to want to blunt God’s truth and what His Church teaches. They want balance. They want other ideas presented. This is not a political arena. There are no other sides in the Catholic Church. There is right, and there is wrong. There is sin, and there is virtue. There is Heaven, there is Hell (well, OK, Purgatory too, but you know what I mean). I know people who want to present sin, heresy, blasphemy (all good old-fashioned words we’re too afraid to use anymore) as “alternatives” or “other ideas” or “balance.” Well, there isn’t balance when we’re talking faith. God will keep us from error, but I don’t want to have my parish end up like some Protestant denominations, who write statements like (and I’m paraphrasing), “abortion is bad, but if you really need to have one, then you should be able to. (Side note: What other sin do we talk about like this? None. We don’t say, “well murder is bad, but if you really need to kill someone, do it.” “Well, stealing is bad, but if you need to..” “adultery is bad, but…” Only abortion. Funny.) NO.

One among the many things I love about Catholicism is its total definitiveness. There is right and wrong. Black and white. This is what is good, and this is what is not. There’s no wishy-washy beating ’round the bush. You know what’s going on, and if you don’t, get thee to your CCC. If you’re Catholic, be Catholic. Believe what we believe hook, line and sinker. Or go find a church that believes what you believe. To pull the name of a blog, “The cafeteria is closed.” No more of this balance talk. We have to talk truth.