Journeys of a Catholic Poster Girl

A handicapped child, even if it is only one among a thousand healthy ones, has its own life to live, as a unique being, alongside that of its parents and its brothers and sisters. Why does God “allow this”? Let us beware of “glib” answers. Where the question “Why?” is concerned, only the response of solidarity can convince anyone. I, too, might have been this handicapped child. It has the same human existence and the same dignity as I do. It is a living challenge to me: Be the kind of person to me that you would wish for if you were in my place. How much love has come into the world by this painful means!

–Chirstoph Cardinal Schonborn, Chance or Purpose?: Creation, Evolution, and a Rational Faith (102-103)

From Sunday’s New York Times magazine is this article about a Pentecostal preacher who is also running the Democratic National Convention: (emphses mine)

F.I.A. has also financed the faith outreach of state parties, sometimes in striking ways. In Alabama, the pro-life party chairman was given F.I.A. money to publish a “Faith and Values Voters Guide” in local newspapers just before Election Day in 2006. The 12-page insert provided the religious narratives of statewide Democratic candidates — “I was richly blessed in my life with parents who raised me in a Christian home. . . .” — and concluded with a Democratic “covenant for the future.” The covenant pledged to “require public schools to offer Bible literacy as part of their curriculum” and made at least two vows that run counter to positions of the national party: to “pass a constitutional amendment confirming that all life is a gift from God and should be protected; and that life begins at conception” and to “defeat any efforts to redefine marriage or provide the benefits of marriage to a same-sex union.”

Daughtry sounded surprised when I read her these vows. Though she is a biblical literalist who sees no problem with teaching creation theory side by side with evolution — “For me, the Bible is history” — she, following the teaching of her father’s church, is also pro-choice. “God allows us to choose in the biggest matter,” she said, “whether to accept Him in our lives. How then can we take away choice on other profound issues? We don’t believe the government should interfere.” Hearing Alabama’s covenant, she said right away that F.I.A. has not vetted everything the state parties have done with its money. Then she leaned heavily on the poles of the big tent: “The wonderful thing about the Democratic Party is that we have room for all kinds of opinions.”

Does anyone else see the massive,inherent contradiction here?
“[s]he is a biblical literalist……[who] is also pro-choice.”

Um, isn’t one of the commandments, “Thou Shalt Not Kill”?
I fail to understand how people can put the well being of animals and plants above the well-being of a baby. It just fails me.

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.

…from the third.
I’m talking about St. Augustine and his Confessions.
Most people that are into classical/theological lit have heard of it. A few of us have read it in its entirety. I tried once, and failed miserably. I just didn’t get it. What was everyone raving about?
Now I know. It’s been two years since I last tried to read it, and now, armed with a new translation, I have discovered the incredible wisdom and richness of Augustinian prose.
Augustine is far from a ivory-tower saint. This is a guy who dabbled with women (having a child with one of them), calling himself a “slave of lust”, while being engaged to a girl (and I do mean girl; he had to wait until she was 12 to marry her. He was over 20 by this time.). He stole, caroused, got drunk, and pursued many other activities familiar to twenty-first century frat boys. His mother, St. Monica, certainly earned her “St.” with him as a son. He left Hippo to go to Rome and Milan, teaching rhetoric to support his high living lifestyle.
Yet, somehow, God found him (in no small matter due to his mother’s unceasing prayers), he became a Christian, and, eventually, Bishop of Hippo (in North Africa).

I haven’t finished this re-through yet, but I am enthralled. This should be required reading. (Nerdy book note: PLEASE get the translation I linked to above, if you’re going to read this. It is readable, elegant and VASTLY superior to the other one I tried, which I believe was published by Signet.)

Late have I loved you, beauty so old and so new; late have I loved you. And see, you were within and I was in the external world and sought you there, and in my unlovely state I plunged into those lovely created things which you made. You were with me, and I was not with you. The lovely things kept me far from you, though if they did not have their existence in you, they had no existence at all. You called out and shattered my deafness. You were radiant and resplendent, you put flight to by blindness. You were fragrant, and I drew in my breath and now pant after you. I tasted you, and I feel but hunger and thirst for you. You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is yours. (Book X, 38)

A bumper sticker seen on I-70 E, heading home today:

“God is not a Republican….or a Democrat”

(I’m going to leave out he part where the “or a Democrat” was in really small letters at the bottom.)

OK, fine, I doubt that Jesus would endorse all the current policies of the GOP. But both JPII and B XVI have said that capitalism offers man the most freedom to be what he truly was meant to be. I don’t need to tell you how JPII felt about Communism, do I? Or B XVI on Marxism?

But I find it very, very difficult to believe that the Dems can, in any honest way, claim God’s on their side. * They are pro-abortion. They kill babies. End of story. Even if you’re a pro-life Dem, you are voting for people who vote to kill babies.
Say what you want about the GOP, but we don’t do that.**

*Although Ohio’s Democrat, Methodist-minister Governor said that “I don’t read about anything that Jesus said about abortion specifically.” (Me thinks the pastor needs to brush up on his 10 commandments.)

**Yes, there are pro-abortion Repubs. The thing is, they tend not to get too far nationally. And more locally–well that’s anyone’s guess. But pro-life is the party platform.

“Through Heaven’s Eyes”–Stephen Schwartz, The Prince of Egypt

A single thread in a tapestry
Though its color brightly shines,
Can never see its purpose
In the pattern of the grand design.

And the stone that sits on the very top
Of the mountain’s mighty face
Doesn’t think it’s more important
Than the stones that form the base

So how can you see what your life is worth, or where your value lies?
You can never see through the eyes of man…
You must look at your life
Look at your life through Heaven’s eyes.

A lake of gold in a desert sand
Is less than a cool, fresh spring.
And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy
Is greater than the richest king.

If a man lose everything he owns,
Has he truly lost his worth?
Or is it the beginning
Of a new and brighter birth?

So how can you measure the worth of a man
In wealth, or strength or size?
In how much he gained, or how much he gave?
The answer will come
The answer will come to him who tries
To look at his life through Heaven’s eyes…

And that’s why we share all we have with you,
Though there’s little to be found.
When all you’ve got is nothing, there’s a lot to go around.

No life can escape being blown about
By the winds of change or chance
And though you’ll never know all the steps
You must learn to join the dance.
You must learn to join the dance…
So how do you judge what a man is worth
By what he builds or buys?
You can never see with your eyes on earth
Look through Heaven’s eyes!
Look at your life
Look at your life
Look at your life through Heaven’s eyes!

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)

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.

If you are what you should be, you will set the whole world on fire.

–St. Catherine of Sienna

DISCIPLESHIP isn’t easy. Jesus told us it wouldn’t be. He sent us as sheep among wolves. People would hate us, He said, but we were to remember that the world hated Him first. And since He was persecuted, we would be as well. We cannot escape it.

So often we think of this in terms of martyrdom, or great acts of faith and courage. But we must stand for Christ and His Church everyday. It’s our duty. It is our mission. It is our calling. We must defend the Truth always. God will give us the words and the courage if we ask for them. We must always stand up for the Truth and not be afraid. God is with us. He will give us the words, as He has given each of us our mission. He alone knows what He desires for us, and knows what we must do to achieve the glory He has envisioned for uys. If we but trust in Him, He will not abandon us.

It is hard.  We my not face the scaffold or the soldier or the blade, but we face the loss of respect, of friends, of understanding. Why do we need these? Yet we do. We crave human acceptance and approval. Yet is is so much more important to crave God’s approval. We must strive to do His will. We can do it, every day, if we ask for God’s help. He holds us in the palm of His hand–He will never forsake us. He loves us more than we can fathom. Let us love Him with abandon, with fervor. Let us defend His Church and Her Truth. “The gates of Hell shall not prevail against it.” We are the vineyard workers, we are Christ’s body on earth. We are His disciples now.

Gandhi said that if Christians truly lives their faith, there would be no Hindus in India. We must love and live our faith, our complete faith, without picking only the parts we can handle. The Cross is hard. Christianity is hard. Catholicism, at times, can seem even harder. We must persevere in faith. We must  strive to live and teach the Truth. Veritas Splendor. “Be not afraid!” It sets us free, but first it must be taught an embraced. We cannot hide it. We must not hide it. To do so is to deny Christ and His love for us.

We are not perfect. We all stumble on our road. But we must be like Peter, and not Judas; we must realize our mistakes, confess them and strive to do better. We must not despair.

“Quo est veritas?” Jesus, and His Church. We must teach that. It is imperative.  It is our mission. Without it, we flounder and stumble and lose the Light. We are the Light of the World, the Salt of the Earth. We cannot lose our savor. It denies it, it denies Christ, it blunts our purposes and we lose our way. We cannot and must not be ashamed of the light and the Truth. He is our entire purpose. Jesus gives everything meaning. His Truth cannot be changed or “softened” or mutated. It is, always.

We must not be afraid, for Christ is with us “until the end of the age.”

Quick Take: A New addition to my book Hall of Fame, and the first installment of Nutmeg’s online book club! This amazing story of a young Rwandan woman’s faith-filled survival of the 1994 April genocide will blow your mind and deepen your faith all at the same time.

Left to Tell: Finding God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust, by Immaculee Ilibagiza (with Steve Irwin)

“I heard the killers call my name.”

That is the first line of a harrowing, uplifting and painful autobiography of Immaculee, a young woman who was a college student home for Easter break when the horrific genocide of April 1994 began in Rwanda. She had grown up the third of four children, and the only girl, with two devoutly Catholic parents who passed their faith onto their children, as well as the belief that all people all God’s children, and worthy of respect and love. She paints vivid pictures of her brothers Aimable, Damascene (the brother she was closest to), and her younger brother Vianney. Immaculee had a happy childhood, and she excelled in her schoolwork.
She did not, initially, understand the differences between Tutsi and Hutu that would so change her life. Her first encounter with ethnicity was at the age of 10, when she attended school with older children. Her teacher had a “tribal roll call ” (16), and Immculee was dismissed from school for not knowing her ethnicity. The next day, her teacher told her stand up when he called “Tutsi.” So she did–and she sawe the horrible impact this emphasis on ethnicity would have first-hand.

As the genocide began in April of ‘94, she tries to stay at home with her family; hundreds of Tutsis came to the family’s property to ask Immaculee’s father for help. A few days later, Immaculee was sent to the home of Pastor Murinzi (57), who was friends with Immaculee’s father. While Vianney and Damascene eventually joined her, they were only permitted to stay one day. Immaculee, however, would wait out the genocide with five other women for 91 days.

How did she survive?

“I realized that my battle to survive this war would have to be fought inside of me. Everything strong and good in me–my faith, hope and courage–was vuleranble to the dark energy. If I lost my faith, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to survive. I could rely only on God to help me fight.” (80)

Taking the rosary her father had given her before she left the house, Immaculee immersed herself in prayer all day. When the Hutu killing squads surrounded the house, she prayed even harder. And she learned to pray for forgiveness for the killers.

Her profound faith left a deep impact on me. In fact, as soon as I finished the book, I began it again, but slower this timer, in order to fully absorb the profound insights she had about the nature of prayer, faith and total surrender to God. She knew that only God and His will would help her survive, and that He would give her the strength to handle whatever obstacles she would face during her incredible trials.

I was also moved to tears by the example of her brother, Damascene. (WARNING: HEre be spoilers!) Aimable was in another country, at school, during the genocide, but the rest of Immaculee’s family was separated throughout Rwanda as they struggled to survive. Immaculee writes about how Damascene was always her defender, protector, and best friend. Their bond was almost more than brother and sister–it was deeply spiritual.

When Immaculee finds out her brother was killed, she is bereft. But he had written her one last letter:

May 6, 1994
Dear [Dad, Mo, Vianney, and] Immaculee,
It has been nearly a month since we were separated, and we are all living a nightmare. Besides what the circumstances suggest, I believe that a tribe can exterminate another tribe only if it’s God’s will; maybe out lives are the price that must be paid for Rwanda’s salvation. I am only certain about one things: we will meet again–there is no doubt in my mind.
I’m going to try to get out of the country, but I don’t know if I’ll make it. If they kill me along the way, you shouldn’t worry about me; I have prayed enough…I am prepared for death. If I do manage to make it out of Rwanda, I will contact you as soon as the peace returns. Bonn will tell you everything that has happened to me…
Immaculee, I beg you to be strong> I’ve just heard that Mom, Dad, and Vianney have been killed. I will be in contact with you.
Big hugs and kisses!
Your brother, who loves you very much!

(152)

The chapter continues with the account of Damascene’s death. After reading it, my first thought was–this young man was a Saint. His life and death should be up for Canonization in Rome. For men like him are certainly in Heaven.

Immaculee’s strength, faith and determination are astounding. This book deepened my faith and demonstrates how we can surrender to God’s will in even the most difficult circumstances. Immaculee and her family are an inspiration to all of us.