Journeys of a Catholic Poster Girl

(Almost last, because my parish has a 7 a.m. tomorrow…so technically that’s the last, before the Vigil Masses begin at 4:00 p.m.)

Before I give you the end of Advent notes, I thought I’d share this brief bit I wrote after I got back to the office today. I think it reflects the attitude of reverence at my parish quite well.

The ten-year old altar boy emerges from the sacristy, holding the brass candle lighter a good distance from his surplice and cassock. The first three candles he lights easily, moving cautiously, careful not to burn himself. He stops, bows before the Tabernacle, and goes to light the remaining three candles on the altar’s left side. He still holds the flame out from him, cautious of it. His face is perfectly solemn as he goes about his work.

The flame goes out at the first candle, and he lets out a huge sigh, acting, for an instant, like the young boy he is. He bows again, and retreats into the sacristy. When he re-emerges, it is with a new flame. In the dark sanctuary it is a brilliant point of light.

He bows again, then tries to light the candles a second time. This time, they all cooperate.

(And can I mention, this kid was really cute? I’m guessing his age, but he didn’t look to be too much older than 10 or 11. All the altar boys at St. Pat’s are very serious about their work, and it gives rise to a lot of occasional cuteness in the younger ones. And yes–it’s all altar boys.)

So, onto the last of the Advent notes :

• (And the first one’s not even an Advent note, it’s a Christmas note…sheesh) The church was decorated today, and it is beautiful! The outside was done over the weekend. Inside, all the statues are adorned with garlands, and the Mary statue in the gallery is particularly beautiful. She has poinsettias and fruit garlands all around her, even in her hands. I’m going to try to get a picture for you, because it is truly beautiful. The baptisimal font is surrounded by flowers. Inside, the altar is just festooned with poinsettias and Christmas trees. The manger scene is all but complete–all we need is Christ the Infant. His parents are already waiting expectantly. And the St. Pat’s manger scene? Incredible. It even has a water feature! The choir loft has a wreath and a garland as well. It’s really beautiful.
• Mass was pretty crowded, but nothing compared to Confessions after. St. Pat’s offers confessions (almost) every day, and before Sunday Masses. Today, there were easily 100 people waiting for the Sacrament. I have never seen so many people for individual confession. At penance services, sure. But like this? Never. Both confessionals were filled. There were little kids–maybe seven or so–with their lists of sins on the Palmer ruled paper, wadded up in their hands. They took it so seriously. And they should, right? “And a little child shall lead them”, for sure. But how great was it to see all those people wanting to be really ready to receive Jesus at Christmas?
• Random thought, while I was waiting in line: As I looked around, and saw the Church Militant (aka, the Church on Earth), I was thinking, “We are all here, admitting our imperfections, wanting to make ourselves better people. Each one of us realizes that we are human, and we screw up.” It was sort of amazing, this mass of humanity, with their very presence, demonstrating the need for God’s forgiveness, and how very human we all are.
• My family and I are going to the 4:00 Mass tomorrow. This is early for me (I’m used to Midnight), and my sister is playing Midnight Mass (she plays flute/piccolo) at our old parish. I may do a twofer and go to 4:00 and Midnight–the readings are different at the various Christmas Masses. We’ll see. Dinner follows at my parents’, and then…not sure. It’ll be weird not having to sing at Midnight Mass for the first time in awhile. I’m sure at least one viewing of A Christmas Story will occur.
• Blog hiatus (unless I have some awesome Christmas insight to share with y’all ) until next Tuesday, when we get back from Pittsburgh. Have a wonderful and blessed Christmas!

It isn’t often that TV shows lead to deep theological discussion, but last night’s episode of House, M.D. provided that for several of my friends and I. The topic? The sacrament of Confession.

Probably no other sacrament is as misunderstood among non-Catholics as this one. So when Dr. Robert Chase entered the confessional to confess the killing of a patient, I was really hoping the show would handle this accurately. (FOX has a pretty good track record for being on-spot with Catholic things—see Agent Booth in Bones.)

The scene, for those of you who didn’t see the episode, essentially went like this: Dr. Chase (who was a former seminarian) enters the confessional (behind the screen, natch), and begins with the standard “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” He waits for a few seconds, gathering up the nerve to continue. Then he blurts out that he killed a man (note he doesn’t say patient), but that he knows it was the right thing to do, and thus, doesn’t really feel sorry about it.

The priest tells him that in order to receive absolution, he has to be sorry (this is correct). Chase (who should know better, being a former seminarian and all) asks what he has to do to receive absolution (not forgiveness). He asks if he has to go to the police and turn himself in, even though the man he killed was responsible for the deaths of thousands of other people. The priest says yes. Chase leaves the confessional, unable to reconcile the fact that he has killed a very bad man (someone who was responsible for killings many others, and now can no longer kill), but yet feels this intractable guilt.

(Note: Perhaps the priest would’ve reacted differently if Chase said he was a doctor who killed a patient. But I’m not sure. I think Chase was thinking more in terms of deliberate killing, or murder, than malpractice.)

So that’s the set-up. After the episode, a few of my friends and I were tossing around our thoughts on Facebook.  Among my Catholic friends, the questions were more, “Would a priest really react that way?” (For the record—I didn’t think it was too far-fetched. He can’t give absolution if the person isn’t sorry. Being sorry is a required for valid confession.)

Among my Protestant friends, the questions were (understandably) different. Mostly, they involved two points: one, why does Chase even go to confession, since priests don’t forgive sins—God does, (corollary—and anyway, how can the priest deny forgiveness?) and, two, no amount of penance (the priest had made a reference to saying Hail Marys) can “earn” forgiveness from God. He just gives it.

I responded to these concerns with the following (in a more concise way, since this was, after all, Facebook):

1) A priest cannot give absolution if the person isn’t sorry—being sorry is an important part of the confession. In the Act of Contrition, you essentially say (wording varies depending on your version of choice) that what you did is wrong, that you’re sorry you did it, and you’re (going to try) not to do it again. Chase isn’t sorry, therefore he can’t, in good conscience, say the Act of Contrition. Therefore, the priest cannot give a valid absolution.

2) A penance is our part of the bargain here, and is derived from the Jewish custom of sacrifice, depending on the size of the person’s sin (see Dr. Scott Hahn’s book Lord, Have Mercy for a lot more on this idea). The process of forgiveness/atonement requires that we do something in reparation. It is an active sacrament. Sometimes, yes, the penance is a rosary. Sometimes it’s doing a good deed. I once had a priest tell me (in my younger days) to hug my mom. But the idea is that the penance helps you avoid the temptation to sin again. And you have made reparations—you have done your part to repair whatever damage, visible or invisible, that you have done.

3) Some Biblical basis for Confession can be found in John 20:28, and Matthew 16:18, where Jesus tells the disciples that “whatever [they] bind on Earth shall be bound in Heaven, and whatever [they] loose on Earth shall be loosed in Heaven.” (This was in reply to the idea that Confession is a man-made invention and not instituted by Christ.)

Confession is probably the most misunderstood sacrament the Church has. If you’re not Catholic, it can easily seem mysterious and sort of out there. And let me tell you, it’s a whole lot easier to mumble through the occasional Confiteor at Mass than it is to go into the confessional and tell the priest what you, yourself, have done wrong in the past week, month, year. Mumbling through prayers with the rest of the congregation sort of absolves your sense of responsibility. You’re not telling everyone what you did. In the confessional, you have to. That’s what you’re there for, and that’s what the priest is there for—to hear the sins, to council you, to give you God’s forgiveness.

In today’s Enquirer (article by Dan Horn)–my emphases and comments.

Catholics stand together during Sunday Mass to recite the “Profession of Faith,” a creed that defines precisely what it is that makes them Catholic.

“We believe in God … We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ … We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.”

The prayer covers a lot of ground, from God’s creation of the Earth to Christ’s birth and crucifixion to the promise of life in heaven. Most churchgoing Catholics memorized the words as children and consider the creed a statement that unites them in a common belief.

And yet, when they walk out of church at the end of Mass, they still find plenty about their faith to argue about.

The arguments have been passionate in recent weeks as Cincinnati’s Catholics debated Archbishop Daniel Pilarczyk’s decision to punish Sister Louise Akers for publicly supporting the ordination of women priests.

Pilarczyk told Akers she could not teach in archdiocesan schools until she renounced her stance on the issue. A week after she refused, a parish priest in Westwood dismissed a volunteer religion teacher, Carol Egner, for writing a letter to The Enquirer supporting Akers and her position on women priests.

The decision to punish the teachers not only rekindled debate over the ordination of women, but also highlighted a long-running tug-of-war between traditionalists and progressives over the future of the Catholic Church.

“What’s happening with Akers is not an isolated case,” said John Allen, an author and columnist who covers the Vatican for the National Catholic Reporter, an independent weekly newspaper. “It’s a small piece of a much bigger picture.”

The struggle within the church has intensified in the past few years as conservative Catholics, energized by the appointment of Pope Benedict XVI, pushed for stricter adherence to church teaching. They have praised a Vatican investigation of women’s religious orders, welcomed a return to traditions such as the granting of indulgences and cheered Pope Benedict’s declaration that Catholics must “not seek to adapt the faith to the fashions of the age.”

They also supported Pilarczyk’s decision to get tough with Akers over the ordination of women, which some consider a vestige of a liberal theology that took hold in the 1960s and 1970s after the Second Vatican Council.

The council, also known as Vatican II, launched reforms that some theologians now say were misinterpreted as an invitation to change the central teachings of the faith to better mesh with the changing secular world.

“Vatican II wasn’t intended to set off a liturgical civil war, but that’s what we got,” said Rich Leonardi, a Cincinnatian who writes the conservative Catholic blog Ten Reasons. “There was a tendency to think the church should just go with the flow, to move with the world rather than to move the world.

“That ship has sailed. There’s no intensity around that movement any more.”

Catholics who favor reform dispute Leonardi’s take on their views, saying they remain active and committed to changing their church from within. They acknowledge, however, that they face more challenges today than they did just a few decades ago.

“I do think there seems to be a trend among bishops around the country to get much more hard-line about women’s issues,” said Christine Schenk, director of FutureChurch, which favors a “discussion” about women’s ordination but has not endorsed the idea.

“It’s a mystery to me, but talking about women’s equality in the church is threatening at some level.” (Oh. Puh-leaze. Genesis doesn’t say “male and female he created equally” It says, “Male and female he created them.” Each gender is unique, and each has unique gifts. They are not interchangable things. For more–read the Theology of the Body. Even a brief summary will suffice.)

Dealing with dissent

Conservatives have gained momentum in the past decade among the laity, in seminaries and in the church hierarchy. They have taken to blogs, TV and radio and have become more active in church affairs and in secular politics.

That was evident earlier this year when bishops and thousands of lay Catholics publicly opposed President Barack Obama’s speech at the University of Notre Dame on grounds that his pro-choice stance conflicted with Catholic teachings.

“What we’re living through right now is a kind of reaction against what was seen as an excessively liberal period,” Allen said.

From the outside looking in, divisions within the church are not all that visible because polls show America’s 70 million Catholics tend to hold views similar to those of the general population.

But those polls also show that Catholics who describe themselves as “orthodox” or who attend Mass regularly are more closely aligned with their church’s teachings on issues such as abortion, homosexuality and embryonic stem cell research.

These are the Catholics who have embraced what some call the “Catholic identity movement,” which calls for closer adherence to the traditions and teachings that separate Catholics from other Christian faiths.

“A watered down Catholicism that asks nothing of its members shouldn’t expect to get anything in return,” Leonardi said.

One of those teachings is the all-male priesthood. While not referenced in Scripture, it is based on sacred tradition passed down over 2,000 years and is specifically referenced in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

In other words, the male priesthood is non-negotiable.

“The church has no authority to ordain women,” said archdiocese spokesman Dan Andriacco. “It is not an open question.”

He said the discipline imposed on Akers and Egner is not part of a wider crackdown on dissent, as some fear, and the archdiocese has no interest in rooting out rank-and-file Catholics who don’t agree with everything the church does, including the 60 percent who tell pollsters they support ordaining women.

“There is no witch hunt,” said the Rev. Earl Fernandes, dean of Mount St. Mary’s Seminary. “We’re a big church. We try to help each person to grow in faith.”

‘Spirit of openness’

Dissent is nothing new for Catholics. The church’s positions on birth control, celibacy for priests, the Latin Mass and a host of other traditions and teachings have been argued for decades, or even centuries.

Priests and bishops know not every Catholic will adhere to every teaching of the faith, and most say there is room on some issues for healthy debate, or at least for disagreement.

“We want to have a fundamental spirit of openness,” Fernandes said.

Church officials say Akers and Egner crossed a line because they are teachers who publicly challenged church teachings. Their argument goes something like this: Religion is about belief, and those who believe women should be priests don’t believe what the Catholic Church teaches. They believe what Methodists teach. (Ha!)

That doesn’t mean they have to quit the church, but it does mean they aren’t permitted to teach. (Exactement!)

“We want our teachers to be authentic,” Fernandes said. “We want our teachers to believe what they teach.”

Both Akers and Egner say they would not express their views on women’s ordination in their classes, and they consider themselves loyal to their church and to the core beliefs recited every Sunday in the Profession of Faith.

They say there should be room in their church for them to do the work they love, even if they disagree on the ordination of women.

“Catholics have a very long tradition of various beliefs and the ability to talk about them,” Egner said. “Sometimes things change.”

Today’s mind-blowing Biblical Studies idea: 

“Reading the Scriptures is like going to Communion.” –Dr. Miletic. 

We were talking about the Catechism and doing what we would call in the English Department a “Close reading”, where we read the text and then dig around in it for its meaning. The text at hand was paragraph 103, which says that we (The Church) venerates Scripture as it does Christ’s body. 

Dr. Miletic then asked us for the connection between the two. We hemmed and hawed. 

“What do you do when you go to communion?”
Receive Jesus–body, soul, divinity.

“Yes. And that is also what you do when you read Scripture. Reading Scripture is like going to Communion.” 

I was blown away. Really. I had never thought of this that way. “The scriptures are sacramental,” he continued. “That’s why only an ordained minister can read the Gospel.”  

Wow. The same thing happens we when we read scripture as happens when we receive Communion! And I have a Bible around all the time!

I will be reading more of my Bible, that’s for sure.

Tonight I listened to the first sacraments lecture. IT was good–short (less than 40 minutes). We talked about signs and symbols, and Thomas Aquinas’ definition of the sacramentum naturea–that sacraments use things in the natural world–like water, oil, bread and wine. The professor is a Dominican Priest, so he offers an unique perspective on sacraments, especially ones like Holy Orders.

There are no written assignments, only a midterm and a final. There aren’t any reading assignments on the syllabus, but he does give them during the lecture. Like tonight he wanted us to read part of the CCC, about liturgy and sacraments. It was pretty edifying. 

I think this one will be pretty smooth sailing, since sacraments, especially the Eucharist, are subjects I have read a lot about (having Protestant friends who think you’re a cannibal really helps in your preparation for this kind of stuff.) Our professor described the class as “practical”, saying that the sacraments are really the bread and butter of Catholicism. I totally agree. 

So a weekend break, then on M, back to sacraments. Sacraments MWF, and Biblical Studies I on T and Th.

or, The Lightness of Spirit After A Good Confession
Recently I’ve been trying to go to Confession more. Not that I’ve suddenly taken to committing adultery and coveting my neighbor’s goods, but I thought it would be a fruitful spiritual practice. My sins, as they are, are more of the omission type in nature–things I should have done, but didn’t–or things that are small, but erode the soul. Petty things.

But I hadn’t been in awhile. One of the things about doing shows is that time for Confession is usually time for rehearsal. Or time to recover from said rehearsal. So I hadn’t been.

Last Thursday I went to St. Joseph’s in downtown Columbus, and went. The Cathedral offers confession on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and it’s about three blocks from my office. So down I went, on a lovely spring day.

There was a bit of a line, so I pulled out my rosary and prayed the Luminous Mysteries. As I prayed, the cathedral organist was practicing in the choir loft. More people joined the line. The sun found its way through the stained glass windows and fractured into rainbow colors on the old floor.

After I finished the mysteries, it was my turn.

My confession was short, and the penance even shorter. But the particular priest who was giving confessions that day did a marvelous job. Through his ministry I felt forgiven, cleansed, ready to head into the second half of Lent with a deeper purpose. The doubts and misgivings I’d had over the past few weeks seemed…lessened. Burdens lifted.

After I left the reconciliation chapel, I headed to the tabernacle to say my prayers.  I particularly love praying before this tabernacle–it’s in a tiny alcove, atop a marble slab carved with DaVinci’s Last Supper. Angels encircle the tabernacle, which is a brilliant gold.

I knelt on one of the prie-dieus and said my short prayers. Adoration that day was truly that–adoring the Godhead in the Eucharist. I wished I could stay for Mass and receive Him!

As I went back to my office, I felt renewed, lighter, happier…more at peace.

From the wonderful Fr. Z:

I was alerted to this item by the blog Meeting Christ In The Liturgy.

Apparently Archbishop Wuerl of Washington DC instructed one of his staff to letting priests know that there won’t be a meeting with Christ in an upcoming wymynpryst “mass” at a Dorothy Day Center in the Archdiocese.

The organizers have been contacted, but they are going ahead with it anyway.

The letter can be found here.

This, from Mark Shea, is definitely worth a read.

Of Closed Communion and Japanese Restaurants

A while back when the Atlanta Braves were (yet again) playing the Yankees (yet again) in the World Series, somebody undertook to ask some Native Americans what they thought of the Atlanta team’s Indian symbol. In the article I read, I was amused to discover that, with one exception, none of the Native Americans interviewed cared a whit about the “Braves” symbol or felt it to be insulting, humiliating, etc. The one exception was an “outraged” “social activist” (i.e., a professional grievance mongerer, whose life and livelihood depended on surveying the landscape for affronts to Native Americans so as to get TV face time and funding for further identity politics and still more face time and money.) The activist’s “outrage” was purely professional and wildly out of touch with the people he claimed to speak for. Real Native Americans had lives and were cheering for the Braves.

This strange disconnect between the “activists” and the people they supposedly care about springs to mind when I contemplate the American Catholic Church. One of the current frets among the perpetual hand-wringing crowd in AmChurch is the terrible psychic trauma supposed to be inflicted on thousands of well-meaning non-Catholic visitors to Mass when they are informed that they cannot receive communion. So great is that trauma, we are told, that the Church must–simply must–change its cruel and nonsensical rule of closed communion and “welcome” all to the altar. Otherwise, we allegedly risk “alienating” a throng of exquisitely sensitive souls whose tender and trembling nerves cannot bear, even for a moment, the thought of “exclusion”.

All this sort of thing is stated as self-evidently obvious: like the fact that wife-beating skyrockets during the Super Bowl. Or the fact that Nostradamus predicted the WTC bombing. Or the fact that the Inquisition killed 46 million people. It’s just widely known, universally acknowledged, received wisdom that closed communion in the Catholic Church is devoid of reason, a relic of the Church’s insistence that She alone is right and only Catholics are saved, and that the response to this medieval tribalism by any thinking inquirer is to find some more tolerant and enlightened religion.

Now the curious thing is that the people who say these sorts of things are usually incredibly earnest acolytes of all that is progressive, PC, and multicultural. Walk into a Japanese restaurant with one of these folks and boorishly refuse to take your shoes off in deference to custom and you will be regarded as a mouth-breathing Neanderthal henceforth. Attend a Jewish friend’s bris for his son at the local Orthodox synagogue and complain that they didn’t serve ham sandwiches to accommodate your Gentile taste buds (”What about me? What about my needs!”) and they will wince (rightly) at your loutishness. Traipse into a silent auction and start barking out bids at the volume Ted Turner tells Polish jokes and they will, with complete justice, write you off as a self-centered loser with no capacity for dealing with social situations that do not completely orbit around your own immense ego.

But walk into Mass as a guest and start loudly demanding, “Hey! How come I can’t have some of those crackers and wine?! Real Presence? What’s that? The body and blood of Christ? No, I don’t believe in fairy tales, but I resent being excluded and I demand my rights!!” and they applaud you as a cutting edge pioneer in Catholic theology.

Now, it may have occurred to you that not many visitors at Mass really want to do these boorish things. It has occurred to me as well. I have a brother, mother, neighbors and many friends who are not Catholic. When they join us for Mass, we routinely remind them, “You can’t, of course, receive communion. However, you are welcome to come up and receive a blessing from the priest by just crossing your arms across your breast.” And they do. No fuss. No muss. They’re happy to honor our customs, happy to show respect for our Faith in whatever way seems best to us, just as I would be happy and not feel put upon to don a yarmulke should I pay a visit to my friend’s synagogue.

Indeed, I’ve never known or heard of a living soul, visiting the Church, who has been “hurt” by closed communion. Typically, such visitors are, as I once was, strangers in a strange land, a little awed, a little curious, a little amazed, a little amused, by the gestures, rituals, statues, candles, holy water, genuflections, litanies, candles, standing, kneeling, sitting, signs of the cross, sprinklings, anointings, readings and assorted sensory experiences being flung at them in the liturgy. It can be a little baffling, but who says that’s bad? Any contact with the divine worth its salt ought to have something about it that is mysterious. A religious rite that is clear as water and simple as the multiplication table is going to be as satisfying to the human soul as reading the phone book. There should be, for the newcomer, the sense that we are, as Thomas Howard put it, in the precincts of a great mystery, that we are in terra incognita, and that we are not in command of the situation.

Along with that sensation is a certain sort of humility that is at the far end of the spectrum from “humiliation”: the humility that makes us take off our shoes in Japanese restaurants, or respect the customs in a foreign country, or refrain from writing in magic marker on the Great Pyramid like a doltish tourist. This same sensation bids us to honor the local custom of the sanctuary and to observe the proprieties, not because we know what’s going on, but because we don’t. I have never known a soul, alive to this Common Courtesy 101 rule of thumb, who has felt “humiliated”, “excluded”, “diminished” or otherwise harmed by it. On the contrary, it is an enormously enriching approach to life since it makes us alive to the mysteries, twists, and turns that both human custom and sacred revelation may spring on us.

Indeed, the only people I know who fret about it are dissenting leftist Catholics, for whom no “problem” with the Church’s teaching and practice is so trivial, preposterous, or daffy that they cannot find some way to take offense on behalf of the phantom legions of the Wounded out there. (Dissenting rightist Catholics can also fixate on trivial, preposterous and daffy things. But they usually claim these objects of fixation are an offense against TRVTH, not against the tender sensitivities of buttercup twirlers.) It is the custom of leftist dissenters to talk about “nonsensical rules” without inquiring as to their sense. But when real visitors visit, they find the Church’s “nonsensical” rules to make a great deal of sense. When I explain “Please don’t take communion since, by that gesture, you are proclaiming ‘I believe all that the Catholic Church teaches and proclaims is revealed by God’ and you don’t want to do that unless you mean it and have been received into full communion by the Church”, I never get a quarrel. I get cheerful nods, interest, and a friendly desire to honor the sanctuary.

That’s because visitors, unlike the “activists” and “advocates” in the Church who claim to speak for them, are reasonable people with real lives to live and baseball teams to root for.

My thoughts: I have a lot of non-Catholic friends. Some of them have gone to Mass with me. And I always tell them, if you go up to receive communion, the Earth won’t open and God won’t smite you (Well, it hasn’t happened yet.). Then I go on to explain the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist, and tell them that by receiving communion, you are agreeing to that (That’s what the “Amen” is about). If they agree, then go on up, then join RCIA. (Kidding…sort of) If not, then you can come up to be blessed or you can stay in the pew.

I believe most of my friends just stay in the pew. I can’t recall ever seeing one of them get up and receive with me. But I probably get more Protestant vitrol about this topic than any other, that’s for sure.

I have really fallen for this wonderful man and we have been dating for 3 years and seriously looking at marriage. Here is the problem: He goes to church. I really don’t mind the Christmas and Easter visits, but he insists on going every Sunday. It is so hard to plan weekends with his over-commitment to his church. On top of that he insists on “tithing” which means 10 percent of his income to this church. This drives me crazy! That is like a car payment! I love this man so much, but I don’t know how to approach the subject of his crazed over-commitment to his faith or church. I mean, people don’t do church like they used to, right? How can I drag this man out of his cave and get him to live in the real, modern world.

Carolyn Hax: Um. In my version of the modern world, each of us is entitled to live in whatever cave we damn please. Earth currently hosts about 6 billion people. Surely you can find one to love whose choices you respect.

Wow.

The above was part of today’s advice chat on the WaPo’s website.
A few comments:

Here is the problem: He goes to church. I really don’t mind the Christmas and Easter visits, but he insists on going every Sunday. It is so hard to plan weekends with his over-commitment to his church.

Um, going to church once a week is not an “overcommitment.” In fact, it’s just about the bare minimum you can do to practice your faith.

On top of that he insists on “tithing” which means 10 percent of his income to this church. This drives me crazy! That is like a car payment!

This is the second thing most people do when they attend church regularly–they tithe. You know, Biblical injunctions and all that, plus the general feeling of obligation when the basket is passed, usually lead to tithing. If he gives 10%, bravo to him!!!! That’s superb!

don’t know how to approach the subject of his crazed over-commitment to his faith or church.

Honey, “Crazed overcommitment” would be like taking you and hiding away in some cabin in Montana, waiting for the second Coming with an ammo stockpile and Spam. This ain’t it.

mean, people don’t do church like they used to, right?

If this is her definition of “do church,” then she’d be totally appalled by the practices of some of the readers of this blog (and its author)–prayer every day! confession! Sacraments! Spiritual reading! Oh my gosh! And some people still become priests and nuns and monks, and give themselves totally to God! Wow!

How can I drag this man out of his cave and get him to live in the real, modern world.

“Out of his cave?” Um, he believes in God. He’s religious. He is, apparently, Christian. I’m not seeing any caveman behaviors here.

I loved Carolyn’s response: “Wow.” That just about sums it up.

So Lent is upon us. What are you doing?

Here’s my plan:

–Daily Bible reading (apart from the Magnificat). I have the CAtholic Women’s Devotional Bible, and I use their daily meditations.

–Lenten Reading plan: The Confessions; On The Passion of the Christ (Thomas a Kempis), and Lent and Easter with John Paul II (meditations and Lenten actions).

–Attend my parish’s Wednesday soup suppers (which are really yummy!) and Stations of the Cross (new this year–I’m excited!).

–Daily rosary (I hope I hope I hope)

–Attend at least one week day Mass per week

–Confession (at this point, it’s just getting there again. I’m not going to set a grand goal of once a week–yet. We’re working on it!)

–And the fast and abstinence requirements.

For a great Lenten primer, go here and download the guide to Lent. It is great!