The Return Curve

Final Post

2005-08-03T05:03:00.000-07:00

This post will be my final post. This is the six-month mark since my fiance ASH first wrote to me, and as such, a fitting day on which to cease my blogging.

Viva Cristo Rey!

Vehicular Phenomenon, or, The Convenience of Modern Technology Re-examined

2005-07-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

I've made an interesting observation recently. Although I do not have my own car, I am from time to time able to borrow a car from some very gracious friends who live near the college. I feel so free in that car! "At last," I sigh to myself, as I climb behind the steering wheel and settle into my faded blue, twelve-year-old, Nissan Quest hotrod van. "Now I can get stuff done." Wondering to myself how I usually manage at all without my own vehicle, I think of all those chores I can zip through in my state of enhanced mobility.

Yet what do I actually manage to accomplish? I waste my afternoons running unimportant errands that somehow take up hours of my time and yet accomplish very little. And during those in-between days when I am unable to acquire the car, I somehow seem to do fine, even without unrestricted access to a quicker means of transportation than my own legs. I find myself wasting gas driving from place to place on campus--and for those of you who've seen our miniscule campus, you know how ridiculous that is. How is it that when I don't have the ability to get places by car, I seem to have plenty of time to get there by foot? Why is that when I don't have the car in which to accomplish millions of tiny errands, I don't seem to have any errands to accomplish?

Just a thought.

Headship & Submission

2005-07-19T16:37:00.000-07:00

Not my thoughts, but another's: read Danielle Bean for one wife's perspective on submission to her husband. Amen, sister.

New Blog

2005-07-19T10:21:00.000-07:00

Always like to give business to my former classmates! If you're interested in more Traditional Catholicism from the viewpoint of a Christendom grad and seminarian, please visit Lingulaca.

Wedding update: For those of you who are interested, ASH and I have settled on October 15th.

Publishing the Banns

2005-07-13T14:22:00.000-07:00

Alright, well, since O.O. already spilled the beans I may as well own up: yes, I am engaged to marry the wonderful man pictured below.

He is known to the O.O. from their college days together at Yale. Some of the more observant readers may recognize his initials, ASH, which have come up from time to time on our respective blogs.

Because of our courtship and engagement, I have been blogging a great deal less. Also, I intend to cease blogging upon entrance into the Sacrament of marriage. Renewing the culture only comes about through action in real life, from which blogging detracts. However, I must say I have received encouragement from encountering the many traditionalists out there in the "blogosphere."

We have not yet set a date, although the O.O. was perfectly correct in guessing that our first choice for a Latin Nuptial Mass are the Canons. Please pray for us and our preparation for receiving the holy Sacrament of Matrimony.

Fantastic New Blog

2005-06-16T16:42:00.000-07:00

I'm very excited--every time I turn around it seems like there's another new traditionalist popping up--it's almost enough to make me an optimist. In the case of this blog, there's two: GFvonB and W are two articulate and intelligent radtrads posting on their new blog, Traditio in Radice. I highly recommend checking them out. They're planning "to assemble a comprehensive compendium on the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the Source and Summit of Catholicism. What [they]’d like to do is thoroughly go over the Church’s teachings and actions in regard to the Holy Liturgy, and produce a clear, comprehensive, cross-referenced, and commentated work that Catholics (and especially Traditionalists) can turn to for solid information." They're asking for help in compiling information.

And congratulations to W on his recent marriage!

Cute Little Girl Story

2005-06-16T15:53:00.000-07:00

Since I'm out in Ohio, vacationing at my friend TMF's house, I get to steal a page from her book and relate a "cute little Chinese girl" incident in the grand tradition of Destination: Order.

After dinner yesterday evening, Number Three Daughter Amy was intent upon enlisting her long-suffering mother in yet another arduous game. "C'mon Mama, get up!" was the importunate demand, as she scrambled out of her high chair and over to her mother's side. Pig-tales flopping, she communicated her impatience through restless bouncing.

"Oh, honey," was the apologetic but matter-of-fact reply, "Mama's not going anywhere. She's pretty much anchored to this chair right now."

"Whoops!" exclaimed Amy, running around her mother's chair to conduct an examination. After diagnosing the cause of immobility, Amy commenced pushing with all her might in an effort to dislodge the recalcitrant part. Mrs. F. wisely remained rooted. At her advice, Amy switched from pushing to pulling, although this produced as disappointing a result. The two older girls watching this scene scarcely attempted to muffle their laughter. Becoming aware that there was assistance available nearby, Amy entreated, "Help Mama, Help Mama! Help her out of the chair."

Informed that all three of her elders were stuck sitting down, she ran from her mother to me, asking my help with the former, and from me to TMF, asking her help with both of us. Finally, she resorted to kisses and a sweet-voiced request, combined with judiciously applied physical pressure and exaggerated groans of effort. Unable any longer to resist her sincere efforts to un-stick us, we yielded at last. The table had to be cleared anyway.

The End of the World

2005-06-06T13:30:00.000-07:00

Today, while creating an exhaustive index for the Christendom Journal Faith & Reason, I came across a Commencement Address given by Russell Kirk in 1984, entitled "Wise Men Know What Wicked Things are Written on the Sky." The curious title (taken from Chesterton's "Ballad of the White Horse") and my fragmentary knowledge of Russell Kirk's work prompted me to read it. In the Address, Kirk speculates about the Modern Age, particularly as regards America: is everything coming to an end? Has everything gotten so bad that we will no longer be able to pull ourselves out of it? He mentions an engraving by William Hogarth, known as "The Bathos" or "Finis."

Everything in the picture is broken, discarded, and dead. Father Time himself slumps in an abject manner, and the smoke curling from his flaccid lips spells "Finis." Has America decayed too far? Or, Kirk wonders, can America revive herself somewhat in the manner of Ancient Rome at the time of Octavius? Corrupt and decadent, Rome seemed likely to collapse from the weight of her vices. But, Kirk claims, Augustus Caesar brought about a renewal (as to just what this renewal was or how it was accomplished Kirk is not too specific), which carried her through another five centuries. Might America not have her own Agustan age?

Is Kirk suggesting that a renewal can truly take root and flourish when grounded in something other than Catholicism? I am not sure this is what he means. But if it is, I must then ask how deep a transformation was effected by the Augustan age? From what I learned in my Roman history class this past semester, I would say that Augustus's laws supporting the family, religion, and tradition, his patronization of the arts, and his attempts at civil reform, never penetrated beyond the surface of Roman society. Was Rome flourishing for those next five centuries--or rather, was she not slowly decaying? Was not the true renewal of Roman society accomplished after the death of paganism?

As in baptism, when the infant is received under the water and there dies to the old Man, and upon emerging, rises into the Life of the New, just so from the death of pagan Rome comes the Life of Christendom. Therefore, regardless of whether there is an Augustan age, Modern society must fall. Just as Rome fell and her absence enabled the Church to flourish, in time creating the glory that was Medieval Christendom, so must the regimes of the Modern Age fall, and only in their absence will we build anew.

Kirk finishes his speech by quoting a portion of G.K. Chesterton's poem which I found highly appropriate, and more in support of my view than his:

The men of the East may spell the stars,
And times and triumphs mark,
But the men signed of the cross of Christ
Go gaily in the dark.

Whether America renews herself or not, and whether the Modern Age at large gives way to a renewal, it will only be because of those men signed of the cross of Christ. Since many of them will be Christendomnites, in this regard Kirk chose his words well.

This is just my roundabout way of saying that the End of the World may not be such a bad thing.

Two Things

2005-06-03T13:08:00.000-07:00

Today's event of momentous import is my Mother's birthday! I wish I had a picture of her to post, because she's beautiful; but since she doesn't see her pictures in the same light, it's probably better that I can't--she wouldn't consider it a birthday gift. In the same cautious vein, I won't tell anyone her age--I don't think she minds too much, but I'll just be on the safe side. Please pray for her, dear readers, that she continue to enjoy many more birthdays, and to be the lovable Mommy-ness she has always been, a source of consolation and happiness for her family, who couldn't imagine life without her.

The other thing I thought worthy of bringing to everyone's attention is one of Secret Agent Man's recent posts on idiocy. Hilarious. As a former NRA member, too, I really appreciated it.

Book Meme

2005-06-01T15:00:00.000-07:00

In response to O.O.'s tag (I know, that was two weeks ago):

1. Total Number of Books I've Owned

Not very many--only about two hundred or so, I would guess--I haven't lived very long, however. Out of those two hundred, maybe half are worthwhile (i.e. are not The Babysitter's Club or some other repulsive series favored in my unformed pre-teen years.) The majority of my collection is fiction. The non-fiction has been chiefly acquired through school--that is, works of required reading that have appealed to me, and that I have integrated into my personal collection. I own about two books of poetry, and I rarely touch them.

2. Last Book I Bought

Lions, Harts, Leaping Does, and Other Stories, by J.F. Powers. It's a collection of short stories primarily about priests by a Catholic O'Connor-esque writer, which I acquired at one of the many booksales named after Gospel writers (i.e. the "Saint Mark the Evangelist Booksale") held by the Christendom library in another effort to clear its shelves of the unwept, unhonored, and unsung. Some of unwept at the sale deserved to remain that way, but I was pleased with my find. Like Flannery O'Connor, Powers has a modern style, combining sensual images with sparse explanation, and while irritatingly enigmatic at times, still enjoyable. I admit it I bought it primarily for the pre-Vatican II appeal, having noticed that many of the stories were published in the early fifties. TMF mentions it in her post Saturday.

3. Last Book I Read

Does this question mean the last book I finished? Because in that case, I can't remember. I've been working on reading four different books recently: A collection of Chesterton essays called Brave New Family, Bishop Sheen's Three to Get Married, and A Mother's Rule of Life, by Holly Pierlot. In addition, I've just begun Watership Down, an old favorite by Richard Adams. I intend to dip into Newman's Parochial and Plain Sermons, as well, and Fr. Vincent McNabb's book The Church and the Land, which has a smashing introduction by Dr. Fahey himself.

4. Five Books that Mean a Lot to Me:

(1) Not the Bible, but certain books of the Bible: St. John's Gospel, the Book of Tobit, and the Book of Ruth. If you refer to my current reading list I think I'll hardly need to explain my choices.

(2) St. Thomas More's Utopia: A beautiful picture of ordered Catholic community life.

(3) C.S. Lewis's Till We Have Faces: Layers of symbolism and meaning. His narrative from a woman's point of view is well done, also.

(4) Tolkien's Lord of the Rings: Good memories of my father reading this aloud to us. He does a great Gandalf voice.

(5) Newman's The Idea of a University: When I read it for Western Lit 101, it made me want to be an English major. I discovered my mistake and joined forces with the history department in time, however.

5. Tag 5 People

The Raindear at HaJollyHa, TMF at Destination: Order, and any other three people who see this and feel like doing it (all the other bloggers I know well enough to importune have already done it).

St. Joan of Arc

2005-05-30T15:20:00.000-07:00

Happy feast day, on this blessed feast of St. Joan of Arc!

She is my confirmation saint, and although I have not made as much use of her as I ought in asking her intercession and guidance, I have been gradually increasing my prayers to her over the years, and especially of late. I have always felt that she chose me, not I her--I don't really know why. But in honor of her feast day, I intend to recite a litany which I found at the St. Joan of Arc Center:

THE LITANY OF SAINT JOAN OF ARC

Composed by Louis, Bishop of Saint Dié.

Lord, have mercy on us!
Jesus Christ, have mercy on us!
Lord, have mercy on us!
Jesus Christ, hear us!
Jesus Christ, graciously hear us!
Our Heavenly Father, Who is God, have mercy on us!
Son, Savior of the world, Who is God, have mercy on us!
Holy Spirit, Who is God, have mercy on us!
Holy Trinity, Who is God, have mercy on us!
Holy Mary, virgin mother of God, pray for us.

Our Lady of the Assumption, principal patron of France, pray for us.

Saint Michael the Archangel, patron and special protector of France, pray for us.

Saint Catherine of Alexandria, virgin and martyr, pray for us.

Saint Margaret of Antioch, virgin and martyr, pray for us.

Saint Joan of Arc, chosen by God at Domremy, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, informed [of her mission] by Saint Michael, the Archangel and his angels, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, compliant to the call of God, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, confidant [in] and submissive to her voices, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, model of family life and labor, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, faithfully devoted to Our Lady, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, who delighted in the Holy Eucharist, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, model of generosity in the service to God, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, example of faithfulness to the Divine vocation, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, model of union with God in action, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, virgin and soldier, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, model of courage and purity in the field [of battle], pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, compassionate towards all who suffer, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, the pride of Orleans, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, glory of Reims, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, liberator of the Country, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, abandoned and imprisoned at Compiegne, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, pure and patient in your prison, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, heroic and valiant before your judges, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, alone with God at the hour of torment, pray for us.
Saint Joan of Arc, martyr of Rouen, pray for us.
Saint Joan or Arc and Saint Therese of Lisieux patronesses of France, pray for us.
All the Saints of France, intercede for us.

Lamb of God, Who take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us, Lord.

Lamb of God, Who take away the sins of the world, graciously hear us, Lord.

Lamb of God, Who take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us, Lord.

Saint Joan of Arc, pray for us, that we may become worthy of the promises of Our Savior Jesus Christ.

Let us pray.

Oh God, Who has raised up in an admirable manner, the virgin of Domremy, Saint Joan of Arc, for the defense of the faith and [our] country. By her intercession, we ask You that the Church [may] triumph against the assaults of her enemies and rejoice in lasting peace; through Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen.

I encourage everyone else to recite it as well on this her feast day if you wish to honor her. Some things to avoid if you wish to honor her will be the movie The Messenger, a pack of lies directed by Luc Besson and starring Milla Jovovich. A better choice would be Joan of Arc with LeeLee Sobieski, although I would recommend watching neither--the latter version is merely less offensive than the former. Also, bypass Mark Twain's Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc. This book merely de-sanctifies her, attributing her personal purity, powers of leadership, and miraculous victories over the English, to her character as a Very Nice Little Girl, the end result being a sort of Shirley Temple in armor. A better read is the little-known Young Joan by Barbara Dana. Simplistic in style, it conveys St. Joan's holiness and the beauty of her life previous to God's call, underscoring the immense sacrifice she made in leaving her home to do His will.

St. Joan of Arc, pray for us!

Remembering what?

2005-05-30T14:39:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day. Our chaplain today wore black vestments, and a skeleton schola chanted parts of a Requiem Mass. In his homily, Father exhorted us to remember the soldiers who died to give us "freedom." He recalled the "moving" scene in Saving Private Ryan, where the aged Pvt. Ryan wonders at the end of the movie if he has made his life worthy of the sacrifices of those who died for him.

It took my four years at Christendom to help me understand John Paul II's saying: "Freedom is not the right to do as we want, but the ability to do as we ought." This pithy line draws the distinction between the popularly-accepted, Enlightenment-conceived, and seldom-questioned understanding of freedom starkly enunciated by J.S. Mill, and the traditional Catholic understanding of freedom taught by St. Thomas. More recently, Dr. Cuddeback's all-important question to us (recounted in my post of April 11th, "Government, what.") also helped in illustrating between J.S. Mill's idea of freedom and St. Thomas' idea. The one is freedom from: freedom from the limitation of conscience and religion, from the imposition of morality, from all external restriction through custom or law. The other is freedom to: freedom to fulfill the obligations of religion and to heed the conscience, freedom to follow the moral law, and freedom to realize man's end, in the perfection of his nature through the supernatural consummation of eternal convivere in the Beatific Vision. Thus united with God, man is ultimately freed--free because God is goodness itself, and in Him man cannot but be good. Mill and the Modernists think freedom means choice. St. Thomas and the authorities of the Church know freedom is the inability to choose anything but the good. Freedom does not mean a choice between good and evil: evil is privation; only good has being, and Being is good. Man is not free when he chooses evil, merely because he has exercised his will and demonstrated his power of choosing; nor is he free when he can choose evil under the aspect of good. Man is free when his will, already determined toward choosing the good, is made perfect so that it is unable to choose anything else. Thus is God, Who is ultimately Good and ultimately Free.

This is not the freedom of America. This is not the freedom for which the pilgrims came, nor the freedom for which the colonies rebelled, nor the freedom for which thousands of soldiers throughout the various wars have fought. While there have been isolated acts of bravery throughout American history, while there have been good men who were Americans, and while I make use of my present American "freedom" in order to pursue true freedom, I cannot be grateful to America for the "freedom" she holds out to me and to millions of others. That so-called "freedom" which, we are so often reminded, American soldiers died to give us, is the antithesis of the freedom Christ died to give us. America was founded in an age philosophically drenched with the bilge of Enlightenment ideology; America's founders acted according to the principles of that ideology. As a result, post-Christian America is anything but free. The separation of Church and state assure the privatization of the good and the slow death of religion; the promotion of capitalism as the dominant method of economics promotes concupiscence and materialism; the imposition of a false dichotomy between faith and reason, along with the paradoxical embrace of science as a religion, destroys the relationship between this life and the life hereafter. I grit my teeth to hear Lee Greenwood's embarassing song, in which he declares that he's "proud to be an American, 'cause at least [he] knows [he's] free." America is not free; instead, she is enslaved in the worst possible way--so that she thinks she is free. And mistaking her slavery for freedom, she will never rid herself of her chains.

Unlike Pvt. Ryan, I do not wonder if I have lived a life worthy of the sacrifices of American soldiers in their fight for "freedom"; I seek to make my life worthy of only one Sacrifice, and no other, for He alone can make me truly free.

Valedictory Address

2005-05-27T13:37:00.000-07:00

As promised, the link to the Christendom news article on our graduation weekend, which itself contains a link to the full address, here.

New Blog

2005-05-26T12:17:00.000-07:00

For all those blog-readers who just can't get enough of us Christendomnites, I announce the arrival of the new blog HaJollyHa, published by a good friend and recent graduate. I encourage all to visit, but especially my regulars, who will certainly recognize in The Raindear that quintessential mens nostra . . . with a Christmas theme?

Christendom's Valedictorian

2005-05-26T12:15:00.000-07:00

Some girl named Ida Friemoth was Valedictorian of our class--Theresamf and I were happy, since she's a history major and a philosophy minor, just like us. She wasn't really agrarian or monarchist or anything--that wasn't really her focus--but she was pretty cool anyway. We had some fun discussions with her during our four years together. She gave a pretty good speech, too, which Christendom's website should have soon. Here's her picture:

Beauty and brains!

Major Hiatus

2005-05-19T02:13:00.000-07:00

That's right, I'm still alive, even after graduating. My long silence was not the result of dying for joy, like Odysseus' dog Argos, nor of dying for sorrow, like Goethe's Werther, at moving on from Christendom. In fact, I have not actually left Christendom--I'm working for the administration over the summer, in particular the two departments of Student LIfe and Christendom Press (the latter meaning one of my bosses is Dr. Fahey, yay!). This fact is also the cause of my extreme busy-ness, which means despite Oligarch's kind invite I will not be able to take up the new meme for at least a few days. But I love books, and if my gentle readers are patient enough, I will make time to write on my favorites soon.

Two News Items

2005-05-10T15:37:00.000-07:00

For general information, I've finally gotten around to acquiring an e-mail account that's under my pseudonym (see the sidebar), so I can stop having to remember who knows I have a blog and who doesn't, and to keep changing the "sender" name accordingly. I'm sure there are several of you out there who know who I am just because of the times I've forgotten to do this. Luckily, as I've said, anonymity is not my main concern.

The second is: an hour ago I took my final final! I am done with official schooling forever, although I hope not with my education in general. The curve is still turning, although Commencement is Saturday. Thank you to anyone who prayed for me during my tests. I guess now I'll have to change the title bar on my blog.

It's all very surreal.

Chivalry

2005-05-10T15:25:00.000-07:00

I see from the first two comments in my box, as well as from a certain letter I received yesterday, that my flippant post on Etiquette has been somewhat misunderstood.

Perhaps it was my fault, in using "etiquette" in my title and "chivalry" in my post, as well as for treating the subject rather lightly. Most people do not use etiquette and chivalry synonymously, for the word etiquette tends to connote exactly what Mr. de Nunzio termed "external conduct and protocol that . . . stultifies," and "a byzantine complex of protocols." That is, a sort of facade of politeness that is misleading, (or even, I suppose, treacherous), and like stereotypical British manners, constricts true emotions into insincere behavior. I must admit I prefer American forthrightness as an alternative. But I would disagree with his assumption that this is what etiquette always means, and certainly with the implication (by association) that chivalry ever means it.

Mr. de Nunzio used the word "charity." Chivalry is the charitable spirit particularly on the part of the strong that adopts certain rules of conducts towards the weak, and thereby ensures that the strong use their strength to help and protect rather than to despise or oppress, encouraging them to build a habit of love which manifests itself in acts of kindness. Etiquette, in my opinion, is merely the outgrowth of that charity, the social embodiment of general charitable rules. Amazingly enough, a movie made within the last ten years actually classified courtesy rather well: speaking to his friend, an annoying homosexual character was expressing his surprise at being taught by a chivalrous heterosexual character that politeness was not about telling everybody around you that you are better than they are, as he had thought, but that it was for making everybody around you comfortable. I think that this is true--courtesy is charitable conduct at its root, in that it seeks others' good. This can be in small ways, even as small as a hostess making sure her guests are all entertained. As far as a code of conduct goes, politeness or manners is a taproot on the tree of civilization; one particular example is the behavior of the young toward their elders. A telltale sign of rising barbarism is lack of respect for the old--think of Nazi Germany, in which the Hitler Youth were instructed that the old are weak and useless, and should be supplanted and discarded by the strong. See the pitiable situation of the elderly in our country today--stuffed into nursing homes, forgotten and neglected, where they are left to impersonal care which leads to disease and death. I argue that charity alone will change this, and charity particularly as it is embodied in the chivalrous codes of conduct that direct the traditional roles of young and old, man and woman, teacher and disciple, preserving a hierarchy of deference, respect, and reverence for Christ in fellow man. As a teacher and mentor of mine once said, "The human in me bows down to the Divine in you."

I agree with Mr. de Nunzio (and more recently, Mr. Jones) that, divorced from charity, etiquette becomes a show, a mask of meaningless "protocol," a narrow-minded device that can hurt rather than help. But courtesy that abandons charity no longer deserves the name, and it is important when such false courtesy is encountered to return to the soil whence it first sprang, and plant anew.

So I reform--no more hastily-written posts from me! Out of courtesy to my gentle readers.

Etiquette

2005-05-09T18:21:00.000-07:00

How great is this? Every man should be a gentleman--chivalry is the preserving force behind civilization! (to employ a little Ciceronian hyperbole).

Role Model Mothers

2005-05-08T13:10:00.000-07:00

I did not intend to write an encomium on mothers today, mostly because I hadn't thought about it and I have plenty of busy things to get to. Additionally, I don't particularly like holidays that have been created by a secular government for secular purposes, with no supernatural affirmation of the goodness of being which alone gives rise to true festivity (If one must steal, let it be from the best . . . as Shakespeare once said).

Then I read Zorak's post on her experience of motherhood. It was perfectly timed, dovetailing with my lesson last night in family harmony. Last night, TMF and I were privileged to attend a dinner at Dr. Cuddeback's house, hosted by his tenants L.B. and L.P. The Cuddebacks have five children, all of whom are beautiful, lively, and entertaining. Their only boy, John Nicholas, occupied himself building a nest out of grass clippings. We were informed of his efforts when he announced that he was laying eggs, and expected some forty-odd within the next few minutes. The first result, a pair of his sister's white sandals, was presented to us for our inspection shortly thereafter. The children played together without fighting, interrupted their father frequently to claim tokens of affection, begged to hold the baby, and showered her with kisses when they were allowed to do so. The older girls were particularly pleased to be allowed to sit at table with us, and one of them adopted my friend as her closest companion. Dr. and Mrs. Cuddeback were a pleasure to watch as well: he treated her with utmost respect, rising when she came to the table, getting a chair for her to sit in, taking the baby so that she could talk to us without being distracted. Each kept an eye on the other's movements, noticing when one was overwhelmed with children and needed help, acting in concert and with efficient teamwork to control their children and entertain their guests simultaneously. It was evident that they had a deep knowledge of each other's character and habits, and knew well how to act together, so that they truly had what Homer calls "homophrosyne"--the harmonious converse of man and wife, that together make a well-ordered home, as Odysseus informed Nausikaa. (As I remarked to TMF later that night, it is no wonder virginity was not particularly prized in the ancient world, for until the Church provided a supernatural good for which to sublimate this most natural impulse, no one who saw an example of a truly flourishing family ("doing that thing that families do," as Dr. Cuddeback himself would say) would be able to imagine anything better). The family is the bond of society and the basis of living culture; it is a natural act sanctified by a sacramental bond, and portraying a heavenly reality. For ought not every family to be a reflection of the Holy Family? Or even, in another sense, a portrayal of the eternal convivere of the Triune God Himself?

But I digress. I began with motherhood and somehow ended up in marriage. (Hmmm . . . wonder how that happened?) My original point was that I have not had many opportunities in my life to witness flourishing families, never having been a part of a stable community. And the mother of a family is of course at the heart of its flourishing. That is why I am grateful when Zorak says:

So now that I have experienced motherhood, as blessed as I have been, I am amazed at resentful mothers. The kind who say to their children, "I bore you in my womb for 9 months, and this is the thanks I get?" I can only feel great gratitude for the opportunity to be a mother.

I have always been amazed at resentful mothers as well, and resentful women in general. Why do women now resent the role of motherhood so intrinsic to true femininity? Why do they reject the honorable and holy role of shaping and forming the souls of their children as future Saints in the Church? Why do they resent the daily self-sacrifice of submitting themselves to the needs of their family, of respecting and affirming their husbands, and guiding and loving their children? What immense responsibility is laid upon the shoulders of a woman! As G. K. Chesterton observed, why would a woman rather be one thing to many people (in holding down a "career") than everything to the few? How can she complain that her role is trivial, when it is mothers who form their children, influence their men, and ultimately, shape the character of a nation?

Like Zorak, then, I also am grateful--for all those mothers who have recognized the immensity of their task, and have set about it willingly, cheerfully, hopefully, and lovingly. This includes my own mother, Sheila, whom I ask all my readers to keep in their prayers this Mother's Day. Thanks, Mom! May God one day grant me the blessings of motherhood, with the strength to undertake them, and the grace to persevere in them. Amen.

Cute

2005-05-07T14:49:00.000-07:00

As a wise guy once said, "Finals are like death: if you've lived well, you'll make it through."

Nota Bene

2005-05-06T13:51:00.000-07:00

Just kidding, "existentialist" friend!

Finals

2005-05-06T08:53:00.000-07:00

TMF was making fun of me recently for being so conscience of my audience's needs--apologizing for the pain I cause them by not posting, for instance. But compassionate is my middle name and I am acutely aware of how difficult it must be to come back to one's favorite blog, day after day, and find nothing new. It's a nothingness that can be felt, as an existentialist friend of mine holds. Therefore, I write this little blurb, not saying much, hoping only to relieve the tension placed on my readers' eyes, who come so often to my blog and who leave so disappointed. For their relief, I blog about having nothing to blog.

Well, this post is actually leading up to pleading the busy-ness of finals. I will post if I feel like it, but if I can't you all know now that it's not because I don't pity you and your restless eyeballs. Please pray for me and the other students at Christendom during finals week (which lasts from this Friday to next Thursday). Actually, you can pray for the others more because my finals are really easy and I'm done on Tuesday this year. Ah, the tiny satisfactions of seniordom.

Clotheslines

2005-05-03T22:23:00.000-07:00

These are funny things professors have said in class that I've been saving all semester--alright, I admit it, I wasn't saving them, I was just too lazy to go through my notes and look for them till now. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy them.

Dr. Fahey:

[Praising early Italian nomads, who relied on cattle as a mobile food source]: "Ah yes, protein . . . the Atkins version of history."

[To students making noise outside his classroom]: "Hey, you should be in history class, you losers! Call yourselves liberally educated?!!"

[On the recent war]: "Americans like to live for liberty, but we panic when people start dying for it."

[On returning our graded papers]: "Since this is the Age of Therapy, I'm going to start by telling you what was good about your papers . . . They were typed."

[To a large, but not that large, Christendom-affiliated family]: "Marcus Aurelius had fourteen kids--take that, O'Reilly family!"

Dr. Cuddeback:

[On the excessive size of the senior/junior class]: "I don't want to banish any of you into Common Good Lite with the sophomores . . ."

Dr. Snyder:

[Justifying his peculiar interpretation of the Physics]: "If Aristotle didn't say it here, I'm sure he did in a lost work."

[On the impossibility of universal straight line motion]: "However, many people think the universe is moving to the left as time goes on."

[On a student who has just left the room]: "Well, Richard's gone . . . So I guess all we can talk about is Richard."

[In defending the correlation of an evolutionary theory with Thomistic principles]: "I don't know if a whole lot of biologists will exactly recognize evolution when I get through with it."

[On the Humanist Manifesto]: "Faith and religion are things you feel--at least until you get your feelings fixed."

[On pregnancy]: "If the baby's not getting enough calcium, it starts leeching calcium from its mother's bones--yet another reason I'm glad you all ate the apple first."

Mr. Brown:

[On loving vs. knowing things]: "Can you love an apple perfectly? Theoretically you can, although I don't know what that would look like . . ."

[On the essential divide between man and woman]: "My wife had 'He who loves much, does much' inscribed on the inside of our wedding rings. She thinks that means if I love her I'll do lots of chores. I think it means, 'Just by lovin' ya, baby! . . .'"

Of course, my professors have said many other, funnier things, but lots of them need context. Plus, if I spent all my time in class writing down clotheslines instead of taking notes, I might not be graduating in eleven days.

Birthday

2005-05-02T16:14:00.000-07:00

Just a quickie post to mark my birthday (happy feast day of St. Athanasius!), which has been without a doubt the best birthday, and birthday eve, of my entire life. That is to say, my life thus far, of course--as for future birthdays, I am confident that they will only get better . . .

(Also, I'd like to thank the recent commenters, who have left a spate of intelligent, articulate, and exceedingly polite comments on the post below. Not only am I flattered that any post of mine would spark such interesting debate, I am also excessively pleased that the debate has been a courteous one as well. And for the record, I agree with Fr. JP.)

In the words of Miss Jane Bennet: "'Tis too much! by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! why is not everybody as happy? . . . how shall I bear so much happiness!"

Silent Applause

2005-04-28T23:24:00.000-07:00

I came across this excerpt on the blog The Meandering Mind of a Seminarian, and lifted this excerpt from it because I was so thrilled to read such a fearless, uncompromising, unambiguous statement of the truth:

It is totally absurd to try to make the liturgy "attractive" by introducing dancing pantomimes (wherever possible performed by professional dance troupes), which frequently (and rightly, from the professionals' point of view) end with applause. Wherever applause breaks out in the liturgy because of some human achievement, it is a sure sign that the essence of liturgy has totally disappeared and been replaced by a kind of religious entertainment.

Beloved--this isn't the Chevalier speaking, this is the former Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVI!

Only those who have either been moved to desperate tears or been gripped by violent rage at the liturgical excesses of liberal parishes will understand the delight with which I read these words, all the more delightful because spoken by an authority. I used to attend a liberal parish, and went each Sunday in dread of that disgusting applause with which the typical weak American mentality deems it necessary to greet anything even slightly moving. This culture has so stultified people that no one can comprehend recognizing the sacred with a dignified silence. Instead there must always be noise and movement, hooting and clapping. It is my opinion that silence embarrasses those minds habituated to the ugly, pointless noise of the modern world. As C.S. Lewis writes in his incomparable Screwtape Letters (those who converse with me frequently know how often I pull him out), the devil wishes to make all the universe one great Noise, without meaning or end. Can there be a more effective way to kill the movement of the soul toward its Creator? Recently attending the school's anti-abortion prayer group Shield of Roses, I experienced the truth of this when one of the escorts began clapping his hands as we prayed. The harsh, repetitive noise destroyed concentration and broke up the natural rhythm of the prayers. As TMF remarked afterwards, it was a blessing that the escorts had never thought of --EDITED--the clinic. One --EDITED--could cripple our efforts past repair. Similarly, I have been having a very difficult time praying after receiving Communion in the chapel here at college, due to the efforts of our choir director, who shares the ineradicable delusion of all music directors that at any time when the priest is not speaking there must be music. Instead of a peaceful silence in which one can meditate on the sacrifice of Christ and man's reception of Him in the Sacrament, there are the notes of the grating, blaring, a-melodic organ piece probably written by some butch nun in all the frenzied excitement of the post-Vatican Exodus.

I pray that the Pope works quickly to restore the natural dignity of the liturgy, aided by the appropriate and solemn silence which best shows forth the beauty of the Mass in all its glory.

Yet Another Grievous (Grevious?) Mistake

2005-04-27T13:45:00.000-07:00

I may be losing my mind, or at least all my editing abilities. Perhaps I should resign from the Writing Center before I do someone's grades irreparable harm.

In correcting a previous mistake (a previous grevious one), I apparently made a mistake in that title's very post. A dear friend very carefully pointed this out to me, imagining that I would be upset. However, one good quality I recognize in myself is the ability to laugh at myself, and so I find the whole situation rather amusing (as I think my readers shall).

I am generally rather good at spelling--it is my pronunciation that provides my parents with hours of inexpensive entertainment. If only this blog had audio clips, you would all have much more fun reading these posts.

Grevious Mistake

2005-04-26T20:21:00.000-07:00

Some may have noticed the accidental inclusion of my name (or a diminutive thereof) in the last post. Three people were concerned enough about this misstep to tell me about it in person or by e-mail, but it seems that no one was concerned enough to comment on it, which I think is funny. Although I have bowed to external pressure and edited this grevious mistake out of the post, I must admit that I am not really worried. I am not particularly concerned with anonymity--I have merely been following the crowd in this matter. I do not have a persona at any secular institution that must be protected, nor any prospects that would be ruined if my anonymity were compromised. However, since I do make mention of certain people often enough that they too would be included in my demise if my true identity were revealed, I have edited the post and will do my best to avoid similar mistakes in the future. (This is assuming that ninety percent of my devoted audience out there doesn't already know who I am, of course).

An amusing circumstance has arisen due to this error of mine--I am being blackmailed, and by a priest. He writes:

Being a priest of the diocese your fine college is in, I know enough people to be able to deduce your roommate's name from that too, should I be so inclined. I
promise not to reveal this dreadful information to the world if both of you
solemnly swear to mount blog campaigns to restore the use of birettas and
maniples, by using rhyming Latin couplets taken from actual passages of the
Secunda Secundae. Anything else is unsatisfactory.

I think I would comply if I had the time for such an undertaking, respecting as I do the priestly office regardless of the moral shortcomings of those who occupy it. If any care to comment on whether I should yield to blackmail (with the understanding that the product will have to wait until after graduation), or resist him, solid in my faith, please free to weigh in.

As a side note, I hope to return to blogging at the beginning of next week. This has been a very busy time, and does not promise to get any less busy any time soon.

Hatred of Our Enemies

2005-04-19T19:45:00.000-07:00

Is it not already happening, even as I said. The gays hate him, and I'm sure it won't take long for everybody else to hate him as well. Excellent. (Thanks to Zorak for the link).

Psalm 41:5-6:
My enemies say of me in malice,
"When will he die and his name perish?"
And when one comes to see me, he utters empty words,
while his heart gathers iniquity;
when he goes out, he tells it abroad.

Psalm 25:19-22:
Consider how many are my foes,
and with what violent hatred they hate me.
Oh, guard my soul, and deliver me!
Let me not be put to shame, for I take refuge in you.
May integrity and uprightness preserve me,
for I wait for you.
Redeem Israel, O God,
out of all his troubles.

Viva Il Papa!

2005-04-19T14:18:00.000-07:00

Well, what else would I be doing but what every good Catholic blogger is doing who's not otherwise prevented? Writing about the new Pope, of course!

God bless His Holiness Benedict XVI, and long may he reign! Anyone of whom is said, "He is so conservative I never thought he'd get elected," has my support.

During lunch the announcement first came that there was white smoke over the Vatican. Enthusiastic freshmen immediately flung themselves out of their seats and pelted over to the library to sign onto the Internet and gather more news. After lunch, about twenty minutes later, I was walking out of Regina Coeli with a test and a new letter in hand, when Dr. Cuddeback passed me. "Excellent test!" he called, then turned and dove down the grassy hill leading to the shortcut to the library. As I watched him flying down the slope, Theresamf came bounding over the parking lot toward me.

"Have you heard!? Do you know who it is??!! It's Ratzinger, and he's calling himself Benedict XVI!!"

And there was great jubilation all throughout Christendom this day.

I immediately wrote an e-mail announcing the news to a dear friend in less Catholic surroundings, then accompanied TMF to the gym, stopping on the way in the library. Two dozen people were gathered there around the live feed off someone's laptop, showing our new Holy Father on his balcony, smiling shyly and waving from time to time at those gathered in the square. I re-joined TMF at the library, just as everyone was exiting it, for the Pope had gone back inside. His words, as reported by ABC News:

"Dear brothers and sisters, after the great Pope John Paul II, the cardinals have elected me a simple, humble worker in the vineyard of the Lord," he said after being introduced by Chilean Cardinal Jorge Arturo Medina Estivez.

"The fact that the Lord can work and act even with insufficient means consoles me, and above all I entrust myself to your prayers," the new pope said. "I entrust myself to your prayers."

The crowd responded by chanting "Benedict! Benedict!"

All around, people were calling family and friends not there with them in order to spread the news, teachers were slapping each other on the back and grinning (even the skeptical Dr. Fahey, who according to eyewitness reports refused to believe the news at first, and then cancelled his class once he was finally convinced), and Dr. O'Donnell called out to anyone who would listen, "We should have a drink! Celebrate this great occasion!!"

TMF and I drifted back with the crowd to our dorms to retrieve our cell phones and call our families. The bells at the chapel and the Commons were tolling, and the warm breeze carried the white petals of the ornamental pears floating across campus, as though even the trees were rejoicing, just as it says in Luke 19:40: "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out."

After making some calls, we found ourselves at the chapel and went in, where our Lord was exposed in the monstrance. Saying a quick prayer, we left and ran into a very enthusiastic, sweet girl, with whom we exchanged stories. She related the chaos at Padre Pio's, where the chaplain lives, and Fr. M's first words upon hearing the news: "I knew it would be Ratzinger--I even said it would be Benedict, just this morning! I should have written it down!!" She also told us how the liberal commentator on the TV was saying, "How terrible!--Cardinal Ratzinger is sure to keep the Church in the Middle Ages!" Whereupon everyone in the room promptly burst into exclamations of delight, according to our friend. We laughed hysterically, letting out the emotional tension and the excitement as well.

Now, things have gradually begun to calm down, but all Christendom still glows with the news--we have a new Pope!

Hilarious but Evil

2005-04-19T11:16:00.000-07:00

While searching for lates Masses in the St. Louis area, I came across a website for the Vietnamese church of St. Thomas of Aquin. At first I thought the website editors left the "as" off "Aquin," but the spelling appears to be deliberate. Nevertheless, I decided to scope it out even though it wasn't dedicated to The Ox. If you ever want to know the character of a parish, check out its "Justice and Peace" section, if it has one. That page will tell you everything you need to know. This particular parish thinks the celebration of diversity is its main mission on earth (or in St. Louis, anyway).

Among its recommendations for celebrating/encouraging/increasing/learning about/engaging in diversity, it included this test, called the Implicit Associations Test. I clicked on it out of curiosity (I admit it: I like quizzes) and nearly ruptured my abdominal muscles laughing. Just the idea of these J&P committee members imagining this test would encourage anyone to embrace diversity is amusing in itself. It's so p.c. and pathetic that it's hilarious--but of course its creators' aims are evil. You probably shouldn't take the test too many times, there's undoubtedly subliminal messages or some other form of brainwashing involved. And because of the evil agenda behind it I hesitated to draw people's attention to it--but I trust that the main part of my audience will use it only for the giggles and not for its intended purpose. After all, if you regularly return to this blog, you must already agree with me to some extent, right? Anyway, have fun measuring your implicit reactons to things. And remember--up with diversity!

Emendation

2005-04-12T23:59:00.000-07:00

I wish to correct an earlier mistake--my birthday congratulations to A & JH ought properly to have been for the eleventh. I hope they will forgive me my error.

On another note: this is why the Church ought to return to the custom of kneeling and receiving the Blessed Sacrament on the tongue--so that other depraved monsters like the guy who sold Our Lord on eBay won't have a chance to get their hands on a Host. If someone has to receive the Host immediately in his mouth, it is much harder to remove and hide the Host for his own nefarious purposes than if he receives Him in the hand, as clarissime Fr. M once said, like a kid sticking his hands out for a piece of candy.

Furthermore, when priests are the only ones who touch Our Lord with their hands, and touch Him with conscious reverence, this increases both our respect for priests and our respect for the Real Presence. How can people not begin to lose faith in His Presence when they see the careless priest fling Him about in glass or wooden chalices, and worse, pass Him on to "extraordinary" blue-haired female Eucharistic Ministers, to be handed out to the congregation like so many snack crackers and slurps of wine?

Personally, I was deeply impressed by the Eastern liturgy of the Melkite rite. Because the Eucharist is distributed through intinction (i.e., dipping the Consecrated Bread in the Consecrated Wine before passing it to the communicant), everyone receives on the tongue, by necessity. What's more, (in some places at least) before receiving the communicant is expected to kiss the priest's hands as a sign of respect for his office, and a recognition of the holiness of hands that touch and hold God Himself. If only Western priests were more comfortable with this sort of reverence! What a beautiful way to reinforce frequently in our minds the sacred character of the priest's office and his daily proximity to Our Lord. What an effective means of humility for the priest himself, who would be daily confronted with his own unworthiness, and the humiliating necessity of receiving obeisance in persona Christi. Surely this continual reminder of the priest's office and the respect we ought to have for it, and the responsibility which the priest himself ought not to forget, could not avoid having a profound effect on the relationship of flock and shepherd?

Click here for a good piece on the advantages of receiving through intinction.

Government, what.

2005-04-11T17:03:00.000-07:00

I just got out of a Modern Moral Theory class with the inimitable Mr. Brown and I feel like ranting. We were comparing the governmental theories of Hobbes & Locke, and (who else but the master?) St. Thomas, and the concept of authority necessarily came up. Apparently, Locke feels contrary to Hobbes regarding a state of nature--that it is possibly to have a natural community or society, although both agree that government is artifical. In this natural community men would be free to gather around a leader if they wished. In a government, or to use that horrible 16th century word so completely imbued with Hobbesian- Miltonian- Baconian-Lucifronian-ideology, in a commonwealth, authority is necessarily coercive. As both Locke and Hobbes hold, because man is merely a vis existendi motivated purely by self-interest and hampered in his efforts by no true moral law, if there is to be any peace at all he must be restricted from continually acting for himself by force.

Mr. Brown then asked us if this idea of authority compares with St. Thomas' idea. My head jerked from side to side in flat denial. That's right, confirmed Mr. Brown--St. Thomas holds that even before the Fall, when man was in a state of nature, there would have been natural government and authority, and that these things are not the effects of sin. There are two kinds of authority, St. Thomas holds: the first is over men as slaves, the second over men as free. The second sort of authority would be so even before the Fall, for government is natural. He borrows this from the Philosopher, of course, who holds that all things in nature have a ruling part, and that it is only through proper rulership and subjection that the fulfillment of something is acheived. (This is such a beautiful idea).

To my outrage and indignation, however, one student dared to equate St. Thomas's idea of authority with Locke's, saying that because neither includes force, they must mean the same thing. I was hampered by not having read the Locke text, which Mr. Brown had neglected to put in my box, so I could only shake my head vehemently as that student laid waste St. Thomas's vision of the truth in an attempt to justify the fiendish Locke. He claimed that because Locke holds that men in a natural state could freely gather under a leader in the natural "community," his theory of "natural" authority meant the same as St. Thomas. This is patently false, and I do here reject, deny, and condemn any such slanderous declarations.

The differences in the concept of authority are manifold: (1) although St. Thomas's notion of authority does not include coercive force by definition, he would of course agree that the legitimate use of force is within the purview of "natural" (i.e., outside the commonwealth) authority, which Locke would not. (2) In St. Thomas's idea of authority there is no room for rational or moral autonomy, to which Locke would claim an absolute right. As St. Thomas wisely taught, however, there is no right to autonomy--man is not, has never been (even in a "state of nature") and will never be his own arbiter, his supreme judge, a law unto himself. (3) In speaking of government and authority before the Fall, St. Thomas did not mean some namby-pamby-wish-washy-watery-weak-kneed-lovey-dovey "community" in which people associate as they will because they are joined by the bonds of "humanity." Baloney. When he says government, he means government--the direction of one man over a polis towards its end, carried out through the promulgation of just laws and a concern for the common good. True authority directs things to their ends, as St. Thomas says in de Regno (read it!) If you don't have a true concept of the end, you can't have true authority, because if an authority is directing his charge to any other end than the true one, he's a failure.

Locke did not have a true concept of the end. Neither does this society. Let's just all go back to the thirteenth century, alright? Who wants to stay here anyway? The other day in Society and the Common Good class, Dr. Cuddeback ended with a question, after comparing the situations of the medieval and the modern man (yes, these are huge generalizations. Get over it). The modern man has political freedom to elect his leaders, social freedom to go where he wants, be whom he wants, and associate with whomever he wants, and he has economic freedom to buy and sell as he wants. The medieval man lived in a politically, socially, and economically rigid and restrictive society. But these same restrictions--King, Church, and guild--made him a part of a community with a clearly understood and explicitly articulated vision of man's end and a carefully structured society through which he participated in a culture rich with the symbols, customs, traditions, and festivity that helped him to attain it.

Dr. Cuddeback's question: Which man is more free?

My answer: Vive le roi!

Il Papa

2005-04-10T19:30:00.000-07:00

(Congratulations and wishes for a very happy birthday to A & JH!)

The day before yesterday Christendom celebrated the tenth anniversary of the dedication of our chapel. Each year on the anniversary, the chaplain pulls out the chalice and paten set sent to us by the late Holy Father via Jan Cardinal Schotte, an old friend of the college who also recently died. Then, after Sunday brunch today, Dr. O'Donnell organized an open-mic, as an opportunity for those who had been touched by the Pope to describe their experiences. He started things off himself by describing the funeral and the surrounding events, telling us how some people waited twenty hours and more to see the Pope's body; how he and his wife had waited on the streets for the funeral procession (the story of our college president wrapped in a cast-off blanket trying to sleep in the gutters of Rome made an interesting picture); how the streets and St. Peter's Square were filled with Poles, weeping and shouting the Pope's name; and how he and Mrs. O'Donnell were allowed to pray a rosary right next to the body before leaving.

I cannot say that I am very sad the Pope has died. Besides the limitations of my personality, which gives rise to a reputation among those who know me too well for cold-heartedness and a distinct lack of human feeling, I also do not see a real cause for sorrow. I was talking with an agnostic and a fallen-away Catholic once, as they were commenting on the Pope (some months ago, before his final illness) and how great a force he was for tolerance, how good it was for the Church to have a leader like him who was so willing to reach out to the other religions, and how sad it would be for the world and the Church to lose him.

"We won't lose him," I said. There was puzzled silence. "We won't," I repeated. "He'll join the Church Triumphant--probably pretty fast-- and he'll be up in heaven praying for us. He'll probably do more good up there than he has down here. We won't lose him--he'll be more ours than ever."

There was another silence as those of the world struggled to detect whether I was making fun of them. Was this another Catholic trick, like those Sacred Monkeys in the Vatican? Abruptly, one of them changed the subject, and the talk took a different course while they politely gave me time to return to reality. I was amused at their complete inability to face the truths of death and the life hereafter--their only solution was to ignore what I said. Likewise, I suppose, those in the cave regarded the philosopher with condescending pity when he tried to tell them of the sun.

On another tack--I am not so concerned with the Pope's death because I am more concerned with what--or rather, who--will come after it. I have been hearing for years that the "springtime" of the Church is beginning, that there will be a renewal, of faith as well as of culture, and now, I am almost hopeful that this is true. I was surprised with Jeff Culbreath's thoughts on the legacy of John Paul II. I, too, was wondering aloud in a conversation to my mother just what message the world will retain from John Paul's life and teachings. Will it be the incontrontrovertible truths of the Catholic faith that he defended in his encyclicals, or the ecumenicalism that seemed to undermine the objectivity of those very truths? Given this tension, the worldview of the next Pope and his standpoint on these issues will be crucial to the direction of the Church in the upcoming years. I myself hope for a Pope who will be unapologetically hardcore, who won't back down in the face of controversy, who will enforce hierarchical discipline, who will support the Traditionalist movement--whom, in short, the media and most of the modern world will hate. As St. John says, "Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed" (John 3:19-21). A certain sign of a Pope that will lead the Church into Her springtime will surely be the scorn and persecution of Her enemies, who will see what is coming and reject it. It was the blood of the martyrs that provided the seed for the early Church, and perhaps it is more blood-soaked ground that will be needed, if we are truly to see springtime once again . . .

True Education

2005-04-06T22:17:00.000-07:00

I'm astounded--I just found out the most wonderful news. My former teacher, the beloved Dr. Reyes of blessed memory, who left his devoted students for Colorado, has begun a grad school of his own called the Augustine Institute!

I had no idea that this had taken place, but according to this article the Institute is opening its doors next fall. It appears to be everything Dr. Reyes always wanted to do--which makes me wonder how long he's had this in mind . . . But I'm so excited, for him, and for the fact of such a school being in existence. I had just been explaining to another Christendomnite why I would no longer consider going to grad school, although before coming to Christendom I had always assumed that was what I would do. "It's all about research and specialization," I explained. "Not to mention the fact that they're all secular and p.c. But if there were a place like Christendom, only for graduates, I would seriously consider it." That's when the girl to whom I was talking burst out with, "Oh, that reminds me! Dr. Reyes is starting a graduate school!"

My jaw dropped to my chest and stayed that way for a few minutes while this girl explained how she had randomly come across this information on Catholic Exchange. Accordingly, Theresamf and made our way to the library post haste and looked up the information and it's true! Glory, hallelujah! What does this mean for the future of Catholic education? Culture of death, be thou affrighted! In Dr. Fahey's elegant phrase, Dr. Reyes is about to "lay the smackdown."

But I probably still won't be going to grad school, even Dr. Reyes' grad school--I already have a job for next year, and there's only so many educational loans I can take on. Besides, I'm happy with the direction my life is taking right now (well, ecstatic is a better word) so I'm not looking to change anything. That doesn't mean I won't check it out, or be open to helping the project in any way that I can, of course. How glorious--a true home for Christendomnites who are still hungering for what, at Christendom, is really only a taste of the splendid beauty of true education . . .

Goodness How Sad

2005-04-05T23:49:00.000-07:00

I know, I've been neglecting my public. My excuse is that I went on break last week (March 23rd through April 3rd) and had a wonderful twelve days and saw no reason to post about anything--it's all a secret. My irresponsibility is sad--but not really. Those who have read Waugh's short story "Cruise" will understand the title.

Easter Triduum

2005-03-24T14:40:00.000-08:00

Woo Hoo! I am so excited! Theresamf and I are going to Maundy Thursday Mass at this traditional church, St. Joseph's in Richmond. As one priest remarked to my mother, "Who knew one of the most liberal dioceses in America had two traditional Masses?" We'll also be attending the Tridentine Easter Vigil at this Church--three hours long, incense, twelve readings--I can't wait. It's worth driving nearly two hours for. Have a Blessed Easter, everyone!

Cuddeback & Cayenne

2005-03-23T13:44:00.000-08:00

O frabjuous day! Callooh, Callay, she chortled in her joy!

Yes, the Chevalier is happy--today is the beginning of break. I'm heading off directly after class at 4:30, starting out the door and down the road, as Bilbo would say, except that I know exactly where I'll "swept off" to. And it will be in a car.

Theresamf and I had a great lunch today. Abandoned by the first table of girls we sat with, who had all finished eating, we shifted our seats over to join Dr. Cuddeback with some juniors at the next table. Thence ensued a fascinating discussion on the virtues of various plants grown in any ordinary garden. Dr. Cuddeback was inspired to grow sweet potatoes, saying he had considered them before but had not actually made up his mind to it until he saw one of the girls eating a sweet potato for lunch. He mentioned how a famous agrarian named Cobbett had written a philippic against potatoes, saying they take up too much space and yield too little nutrition in return. This provoked a discussion on who grows what in his garden--everything from carrots to zucchini to okra, apparently. I was feeling a little left out, having come from a far less agrarian background than most at the table, when I remembered: "We grow jalapenos!" I announced proudly. Everyone laughed.

We do indeed grow jalapenos, and tomatoes, and probably some other things I've forgotten (sorry, Mom). Dr. Cuddeback told us then how cayenne pepper, and in fact the whole pepper family, is actually very useful for cuts and wounds of all sorts. He related a story about a woman who dumped a can of cayenne pepper into a boy's gunshot wound, apparently keeping him alive until the ambulance came. He says another teacher at our school, Dr. Flippen (note: "Alternative medicine"), half chopped off his finger with an axe, but managed to save it by wrapping it in comfrey. He also recommended blending together vodka and habanero peppers and leaving it to sit for a few weeks, and then applying the mixture to cuts as though it were iodine. "And you all know the wonderful uses of garlic, of course?" he asked, but his exposition of the mysteries of garlic was cut short, since it was class time and we all had to leave. The lunchlady who calls everyone "sweetie" indiscriminately, from the awe-inspiring Fr. M to the lowliest freshman, arrived to clean up the plates and things, and we all left the Commons calling out wishes to each other for a happy break, a holy week, and a blessed Easter.

I love my teachers! I love my school! And I love agrarianism!

Danielle Bean

2005-03-21T09:16:00.000-08:00

I randomly found this site while cruising Mommentary, not one of my regular blogs (although there's no reason it shouldn't be, I'm just lazy.) I have no idea who Danielle Bean is, but I really enjoy her stories of family life--at the same time that she accurately depicts all the petty annoyances and frustrations, she displays the joy and the love of her vocation. I am favorably impressed by her pateience and wisdom as well. Congratulations to her and her husband on their new baby!

Speaking of new things, yesterday during our Palm Sunday Mass a lovely little girl named Maria M. made her First Communion. She is the daughter of one of our staff members. I have always loved to see this family in Church because their children ( I believe there are six of them) are almost supernaturally well-behaved. Today, Maria came with her family to Mass wearing a simple but lovely ivory-white dress and veil. At first I thought she was dressing up in anticipation of Easter, but right after the Consecration it became apparent from the signs between the head acolyte and the parents that she was to go up first and receive the Host--for the first time. It was a beautiful moment, to see this sweet little girl kneeling in her pretty dress, innocent face lit up with anticipation, and our hoary old Irish priest bending over with bloodshot eyes and holding Him in a trembling hand, whispering, "This is the Body of Christ . . ." Afterwards, Father took pictures with Maria and the rest of her family in the chapel. "That's my PR rep!" he declared, pointing to the photographer. He was so carried away by the happiness of the occasion that he took Maria's head into his hands and kissed her forehead repeatedly, exclaiming, "What a good girl! Such a good girl!"

A transcendent moment--a cause for rejoicing throughout the Church, the day when someone first encounters Christ in the flesh. Deo gratias.

Large & Primitive

2005-03-20T20:06:00.000-08:00

What a cheat! I was the one to come up with the idea of posting Neanderthals, and then my perfidious roomate steals it, and what's more, posts before me. What's really weird is that I had already written and deleted a post on our Large & Primitive joke without even looking at her site first, wholly unaware of the base challenge issued me . . . But now that I have seen it, I only have this modest picture to offer (that's right, I'm also technologically deficient. No on-site images for me, only paltry links. As a self-appointed agrarian I ought to retain some Luddism). By the way, I'm the pretty one on the right. Here's one of Theresamf and myself on a good day. (For you observant ones, yes, it's actually two pictures of the same girl, but they do say we're like identical twins, so if you've seen one of us, you've seen us both).

Also, I took her quiz. I'm not surprised at the results--no mere test can comprehend my uniquely complex and profound character! What can you do with a girl who loves babies and wears pink, but gets excited by warfare and political theory? Don't try to categorize me, puny mortals! Ours is a high and lonely destiny . . .

The Harlequin
You scored 23% Cardinal, 43% Monk, 38% Lady, and 40% Knight!
You are a mystery, a jack-of-all-trades. You have the king's ear, but also listen to murmurings of the common folk. You believe in the value of force and also literature. Truly you are the puzzlement of the age.

You scored higher than 29% on Cardinal
You scored higher than 39% on Monk
You scored higher than 14% on Lady
You scored higher than 51% on Knight

(Mine would have a nice picture and everything but blogger was giving me trouble. Now I'm going to go off and pout).

The Mass Beautiful

2005-03-20T19:24:00.000-08:00

Quite by chance, I came across this great site from a parish in Boston; it contains a simple and highly orthodox overview of the traditional Mass. O ye lucky parishioners of Holy Trinity Church!

Amazing

2005-03-19T13:24:00.000-08:00

Some of you O.O. fans may have already come across this, but I just read it and, although I don't think I agree with it all, especially the part about the sun (which hurts because the eyes beholding it are faulty, not the because the sun is) in Plato's cave metaphor. I am not naturally a morning person, either, but I have been trying to develop a healthier respect for morning and its activities. Nevertheless, in reading the first few paragrahs about the ambience of a dead world at four a.m., similar feelings are called up by this description so readily that I think I must understand what O.O. means--something one should be wary of asserting. At any rate, an awesome read.

My greatest fascination, however, is with dusk and sunset, especially in summer, when the setting sun is still half above the horizon, so bright orange and gold, lighting up the tips of the grasses and the dust motes still floating through the air, and turning the clouds about it to pink and purple, while on the other side of the sky in the east the stars have already begun to come out, and the evening sky is turning that glowing blue that heralds deeper night.

Listen to me, turning lyrical. I think it must be because we have such nice weather at Christendom today, so that it reminds me of what that far-away time of summer was like . . .

On another note, happy feast day of St. Joseph, patron saint of the universal Church, as well as of workers, and of husbands. I wish I could trust myself to write a panegyric on men, but I am afraid I would only end up making myself look ridiculous. Nevertheless, I will say that I think they are greatly undervalued in today's society as a result of feminism. A man's innate capacity for using his strength, intelligence, and creativity, in protecting, cherishing, and loving women has been strangled and stifled by the femmenazis, who insist that men treat women either as objects or equals (after all, what else is the message of the sexual revolution?) God bless the men who transcend the present culture and behave toward women as they ought--as St. Joseph toward the Blessed Virgin, with kindness, respect, and dignity, and no thought whatever of equality, liberation, or lust. St. Joseph, pray for them!

Erin go Bragh!

2005-03-18T09:47:00.000-08:00

Christendom celebrated St. Patrick's day last night in full force. Although I look forward to graduating this semester more intensely than I ever predicted, I was reminded last night (as I periodically am) why I love my school and my community here.

There was a dinner to start things off, a somewhat more elaborate dinner than the typical fare, although the real Irish food had been consumed at lunch (corn beef and cabbage, of course). There was also soda bread and scones, and most importantly, beer! Students 21 and over were allowed three large cups--the choices were Killian's, Harp's, and Guinness. I am certainly no beer expert, but in my opinion the other two cannot compare to the first. Dr. O'Donnell urged us to participate as fully in the festivities as possible, so I obeyed my president faithfully. I love it when cultural renewal takes the form of alcohol.

We were also surprised and delighted by the unexpected visit of aforementioned alumnus D.K. (from "Presidential Antics") who actually came for the festivities, although presumably without a welcome party to greet him.

Poor Theresamf was constrained by an upcoming Marshner test to leave immediately after dinner and study in her room, while I, unfettered by any such considerations (as is evident from the fact that I am posting) remained. Anticipating the fun of watching the "Hibernian guard" perform, I was also unable to tear myself away from the myriads of professors' children swarming about the place. I had the hope that if, like a patient fisherman, I waded out into the stream and stood still long enough, one of the adorable little things might come wondering within my grasp, allowing me to snatch her up and hold her close, and talk to her, play with her, maybe even keep her . . .

The "Hibernian guard" arrived (six or so guys in kilts or their girlfriends' plaid skirts) carrying the colors, led by our replacement bagpiper (the other graduated last year) playing a rousing marching tune that I love. After the presentation of the colors, the guard left and two of our beloved priests stepped forward for Irish blessing/Comedy Hour (one is Sicilian, the other true Irish--they love each other completely and show it by taking every opportunity to mock or ridicule each other). Dr. O'Donnell's five-year-old son Declan made an appearance as Bishop St. Patrick himself, as I believe he has done ever since he could walk. After these, the singing began, the "Clansmen" (Dr. O'Donnell and random members of the student body, most often St. Greg's Boys) belting out the usual traditional Irish songs which I never get tired of hearing. This was followed by the madrigal singers, instituted and trained by an alumna whom we are fortunate to have still with us. Madrigals are another thing I never get enough of. A large part of the entertainment also consisted of many beribboned, be-curled little girls hopping around to pounding beats in Irish soft and hard-shoe dancing.

For me, however, the best part of the night was the community, and by that I mean not only all my fellow students gathered together in the Commons watching or performing the festivities, but also the professors and their dear families, mellow and relaxed, talking to each other or with students, holding their babies or containing their toddlers, singing "Four Green Fields" all together by the stage or giving speeches, but most importantly, there with us.

Communitas, communitas--semper communitas!

And I did, by the way, manage to snag a little girl for part of the evening . . .

Hiatus

2005-03-07T21:24:00.000-08:00

I apologize once again to all my avid readers, for I will not be posting for some time. I have quite a few papers and midterms coming (right before break is always crunch time) so I simply won't have the time I need for posting. I estimate a return to my curve around the middle of next week, possibly the 15th or 16th. Until then I'll barely be able to check my e-mail. Such is the student's life!

Baptism

2005-03-07T09:31:00.000-08:00

Congratulations to O.O. and Zorak on the death and rebirth of their new daughter.

Congratulations for the same reason to the family of JH, who also celebrated a baptism this weekend.

Glory to Thy condescension O Lord, in going into the waters of Thy Creation to renew both it and us who are baptized in Thee!

Book of the Bible

2005-03-06T18:40:00.001-08:00

You are Proverbs.

Which book of the Bible are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

This is actually rather accurate, except that I'm don't see myself as much of a leader. Good thing I'm not a man.

Nine More Things

2005-03-06T18:29:00.000-08:00

I don't mean to show off or anything, of course . . .

12. Had my ears pierced eight times, including once in the cartilage.
13. Attended my first and only wedding at the age of five.
14. Was invited by an enthusiastic professor to teach the rest of the class after giving a right answer
15. Was asked once in the confessional how old I was (did the priest doubt I'd reached the age of reason?)
16. Ate barbecued moose
17. Was in a motorcycle crash
18. Went on my first date at the age of twenty-two
19. Have an aunt whose fifth marriage is to her half-sister's husband's father
20. Had 3 roommates my 1st year at college, and 1 roommate the last 3 years

Ten Things

2005-03-04T18:53:00.000-08:00

Alright, so I follow the crowd. If I were a lemming, I bet I'd even throw myself off a cliff with everybody else. So I'm going to post the "List of Ten Things You've Done that Your Readers Haven't" (to paraphrase freely) that the cool people are all posting, like Zorak and Zodak. Except mine will have eleven, so there.

1. Wiped bodily excrescences off hundreds of old people as a Certified Nurse Aide for a year
2. Had a patient die while I was bathing her
3. Been bitten by my own dog so badly that I had to go to the emergency room
4. Out-drank a sailor
5. Finally acquired a driver's license at the age of twenty-one
6. Traveled to Spain with two gay men, both named Mark
7. Been whistled at or hit on by twenty-three Italians in the space of half an hour
8. Won a bike in a school-wide contest in third grade and then saw it get run over by a truck less than a week later
9. Nearly died by suffocation in a mosh pit at a punk concert
10. Danced a dance called "Farmer's Maggot"
11. Embraced the gold reliquary bust of St. James in his cathedral in Santiago de Compostella

Presidential Antics

2005-03-02T12:01:00.000-08:00

This semester, the seniors have an imaginative and dynamic class president, with unique methods of getting our attention for announcements during lunch. Alex S. is very tall and has flowing red hair, as well as a majestic countenance, all factors which make his movements about the cafeteria very noticeable. Despite his easily-detectable presence as he stands at the podium on the stage, however, the crowd at large generally adheres to long-standing tradition and refuses to acknowledge him by quieting down, preparing to listen, or any other such courteous course of action. In consequence, President S. has developed methods of engaging interest that are both subtle and highly entertaining. Yesterday, Mr. S. began by speaking into the microphone with a low, "Testing, testing . . ." Heads began to turn, but the majority took no notice.

"I feel pretty . . ."

Those in the seats nearest the stage whipped around in startled amusement. Tables farther back in the room began to be alerted to the fact that Something Was Happening.

"So pretty, and witty," continued S., his voice perfectly in key.

Pretty much everyone was staring, listening, and grinning at this point.

" . . . and gay!" he trilled, to an almost perfectly silent and completely attentive audience, which promptly burst into laughter and applause. "Thank you," he acknowledged modestly, before going on with announcements.

Other previous means of attracting our short attention spans have included announcing a welcoming party for notorious alumnus D.K., declaring "[Female Student Who Shall Go Unnamed] has a consuming passion for [him] which is totally unrequited," and reciting a love poem for his girlfriend.

This year, I almost look forward to lunchtime announcements.

The Last Samurai

2005-03-01T23:23:00.000-08:00

I first saw The Last Samurai last summer. I had seen previews for it before it came out, but noting that Tom Cruise was the star, I immediately rejected it. However, there came a time when I was bored, and liking the Kurosawa samurai films, I decided to give The Last Samurai a chance.

I surprised myself by enjoying it, and more than that, by actually finding some meaning in it. In short form, the movie concerns a lieutenant of the U.S. Army in the 1870s, Nathan Algren, who begins the film as a down-and-out drunkard. He is hired by the Japanese to help train their army in "modern" warfare, i.e. the use of firearms and modern strategy. The rising powers in Japan, the filthy capitalists, who are seeking power by manipulating the weak Emperor into signing on to modern culture, hope to use this new army to put down a "rebellion" of samurai. This rebellion against the destruction of traditional Japanese society is led by Katsumoto, the Emperor's own mentor and loyal servant. In the first engagement, Algren's unprepared troops are defeated and he himself is captured. Katsumoto takes Algren to his son's feudal village in the mountains, where Algren's conversion begins.

I won't say anymore about the plot, lest some be moved actually to watch the movie for themselves. The story is well-told, without sensuality and (I thought) an acceptable and, considering the subject, not unexpected level of violence. The acting is excellent--even Tom Cruise turns in a good performance, managing not to overwhelm the film and the rest of the characters with his Cruise-ness. Ken Watanabe as Katsumoto and Koyuki as his sister Taka are superb. The character Taka actually served as one of my main sources of surprise--as a general rule, the Hollywood portrayal of women is naturally substandard. They are either prancing minxes or obnoxious femmenazis, with no in-between. In contrast, Taka was modest, deferential, and quiet, yet strong and deep, with a sense of honor. Wisely, the film's makers decided not to press their luck and stopped while they were ahead, as she is the only female character and her screen time is relatively short. The scenery, the countryside of Japan, is absolutely gorgeous and filmed so as to make it appear more so--in fact, the clarity of the shots, the lighting, and the rich color make for an almost fantastic feel. Considering that the film is principally about the feudal life, and as the Japanese title Bushidou demonstrates, the "knight's way," this somewhat romanticized depiction is appropriate to the story as well as attractive.

Finally, the film's core, and the primary reason for watching it, which I was only able to appreciate after Dr. Blum's Ren-Rev-Ref and Catholic Culture classes: Katsumoto's village is used to depict Japanese feudal society in microcosm. Algren's narrative provides a commentary on their traditional way of life, over scenes of worship, craft, farming, family life, and warfare. "Each day," Algren says, "they dedicate themselves to the perfection of whatever they do." This instantly recalled to me the medieval guilds of Western Europe. As Dr. Blum taught us, the guilds served three primary functions: religious, communal, and practical. Attached to most guilds were the confraternities of that guild's particular saint, encouraging members to donate their labor and money toward the cult through such things as votive candles, festivities, and processions. The guilds also provided a source of stability in the community, both by uniting men of a common trade and protecting their interests, and also by arranging for the provision of the members' families. Finally, the guilds served to protect the trade itself, upholding the traditions peculiar to each craft, preserving the standards, and protecting the livelihoods of the men involved. Altogether, the guilds served as the environment in which men could most surely dedicate their lives to God through their labor and their service to the common good. I saw this in the life of the Japanese village as well, through the elements of their dedication to the traditions and customs of their society, the respect for the authority that guided it, the recognition and acceptance of hierarchical roles, their insistence on discipline and the "perfection" of their work, and their code of honor and bravery combined with courtesy and humility. I saw a society that clearly had some conception of the good for man, and accordingly form a structure of life, a culture, designed to achieve that good.

I realize that Japanese feudal society in no way compares to Catholic medieval society anywhere else, for a culture that is based on Christianity is inherently higher than any other. Unfortunately, like Lycurgus' Sparta, the good of that Japanese society seemed to be success in war, or preservation of the state; although this is not the best of the three primary ends of a state (which are God, war, and commerce), it is not the least, either. Despite this fact, I appreciated The Last Samurai for providing a portrayal of a society deliberately designed and a culturally faithfully lived in the attainment of its good. If pagan Japanese could construct such a culture in pursuit of a purely temporal good, how much more ought Christian men to do in pursuit of their heavenly goal!

Terri's Fight Link

2005-02-27T14:29:00.000-08:00

Void

2005-02-26T17:50:00.000-08:00

An apology to everyone in my huge fan base somewhere out there, wondering why I haven't been posting recently. The answer is simple: everything going on in my life right now is either non-intellectual or private or both, so I haven't been inspired in any post-appropriate way recently. I had no idea how time-consuming and exhausting the job search and application process is (yes, I am seventy-five days from graduation with very little idea of what I'm actually doing after college. Isn't that the perennial liberal arts major dilemma?) I am researching the field of Montessori and have a possible opportunity in Ohio, but it is still on the potential side.

Speaking of potency, we recently learned in Natural Philosophy (ok, I have been engaging in some intellectual activities) that the infinite in the material world (vs. the immaterial, i.e. God and the angels) is being in potency. This means that "there's always one more, always one more," as Dr.Snyder puts it. For instance, there's always another day coming, always another day possible. Or, the hamster can always go one more round on the wheel, always one more. This means, Mom, you were right--the supply of laundry and dishes for you to clean is indeed infinite!

We had a couple of amusing incidents at Mass today. Our new chaplain has recently instituted Adoration before the Saturday morning Mass. This morning, just after Reposition, when everyone who had been waiting respectfully outside the chapel was entering, a poor acolyte who shall remain nameless contrived to spill the incense all over the sanctuary floor and steps. He and the Head Acolyte spent the five minutes before Mass running back and forth with wet paper towels, trying to wipe it up. Next, everyone's favorite Irish priest, our former chaplain, received assistance during the reading of the Gospel. He is rather old and has very bad eyesight, making it difficult for him to read in our poorly-lit sanctuary. A lady in the front pew took matters into her own hands and sent the lector up to Father with the gift of a pen that lights up. Poor Father was so confused when it suddenly appeared on the podium before him, that he stopped reading and stared at it, then accidentally clicked it off, and couldn't figure out how to turn it back on. He came up to the "helpful" lady after Mass and exclaimed, "Because of you I forgot my whole homily!"

Well, I haven't been blogging for very long, so perhaps I shouldn't be over-hasty in saying this, but I do believe this is my most inane post. O how the mighty have fallen . . .

Ex Cathedra

2005-02-22T22:47:00.000-08:00

Happy Feast of the Chair of St. Peter! I'm very excited about my post today, because I wrote a paper on the primacy of the papacy for my apologetics class last spring, and I'm glad at last to find a forum in which to exhibit some of the things I discovered. Plus, it seems I've scooped the Oligarch on this subject--I was afraid he'd get there first, being the expert theologian. Perhaps he's busy grading exams.

Although I was not originally interested in writing a ten page paper worth ten percent of my grade, during the research I found out some fascinating things about that Scriptural passage in which Our Lord bestowed the keys on Peter, Matthew 16:18. Scriptural exegesis is not my forte, but I have over the years been brought to a deeper appreciation through Sabatino's influence (the friend whom I mentioned in "Eastern Wisdom.") Through the books The Keys of the Kingdom: A Tool's Witness to Truth, and And on this Rock: The Witness of One Land and Two Covenants, both by Fr. Stanley L. Jaki, I was brought to a deeper understanding of Jesus' conferral of the primacy on Peter.

This the full quotation of Matthew 16:15-19 (I like the archaicisms of the KJV):

"He saith unto them, 'But whom say ye that I am?' And Simon Peter answered and said, 'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.' And Jesus answered and said unto him, 'Blessed art thou, Simon Barjona: for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father Who is in heaven. And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.'"

Jaki begins his exposition by pointing out that although these verses are important, no one pays attention to the preceding verse of 16:13, in which it says that Jesus and his disciples "came into the coasts of Caesarea Philippi." Because Jesus did everything deliberately, the slightest action of His can be counted on as significant. In this case, the surrounding environs in which Christ performed the conferral lend as much weight to the meaning and importance of what He was saying as the words themselves.

In endeavoring to discover where in the "area" or "quarters" (as it is sometimes translated) of Caesarea Philippi the disciples and Jesus may have been, Jaki posits that the most obvious spot would be by what is today the Arabian village of Banias. This village is marked by an immense cliff, "the precipitous southern end of one of the foothills of Mount Hermon forming a wall of bare rock about 200 feet high and 500 feet wide" (Jaki, AotR, 10). The town Banias is an Arabic variant on the ancient name Panias, or Paneion. Apparently the town was named for the local cult of Pan, which held riotous orgies in a grotto at the base of this cliff. Although he failed to recognize the significance of this setting, the historian Josephus describes the scene in his book The Jewish War. Fr.Jaki summarizes his description thus:

Such are then the main details attested to by Josephus, one of the great writers of antiquity, about Caesarea Philippi; a splendid pagan city lying in clear sight of a huge wall of rock [sic]. At the top of that wall there glitters the white marble of a temple dedicated to Caesar. At its bottom there is an outwardly idyllic sanctuary of Pan. Immediately to the left of that sanctuary there is a fathomless cavity full of water, one of the three sources of the Jordan.

As Jaki goes on to explain, once the images of the immense wall of rock, the temple, and the cavern below are understood as actually existing in the immediate area, it becomes clear that Christ had deliberately chosen this spot as a visual backdrop and reinforcement for his words to Peter. In the sight of that vast cliff of limestone, Jesus tells Peter that he is Rock. Upon Peter (the Rock), Christ would build His church--not a temple like the one upon the cliff, dedicated to a pretentious emperor masquerading as a god, but an eternal Church of which the Son of God Himself would be the Head. It would be an eternal Church, for the gates of Hell would not prevail against it--such as the satanic influence in the orgiastic and depraved rituals of paganism. Concerning this, Fr.Jaki says, "Such rites were the fearful encroachment of death on the sacred [river Jordan] at its very source, a source which provided the water for Jesus' baptism, the prototype of the rite by which the power of Satan is broken" (Jaki, 77). The opening of the cave itself readily suggested the image of "wide-open jaws of death--both spiritual and physical death." Thus, in pronouncing these words to Peter in this specific location, Christ drove the point home with as much emphasis as possible--like an enormous wall of rock, Peter was to be the foundation of Christ's own Church, and its bulwark against all the forces of evil throughout eternity. The realization which the scenery and the words together produced in the disciples must have been overwhelming.

As Fr.Jaki asserts, "Jesus never did anything without planning." Although the exact area of Caesarea Philippi in which Jesus stood cannot be "rigorously proven," the likeliness of this interpretation is added to "if one recalls Jesus' fondness for choosing appropriate backdrops for his words. Jacob's ancient and hallowed well at Sichem heard his words about living waters which only he could give. The feast of Tabernacles with its torches, heard the declaration that he was the light of the world . . . Jesus would not have been faithful to his pedagogy if he had not chosen that massive wall of rock as the backdrop for his historic words 'upon this rock'" (Jaki, 78-79).

In addition, the symbolism behind the concept of the "keys" is far deeper than I had at first supposed, merely understanding 'key' in the sense of something that locked and unlocked (bound and unbound) the kingdom of heaven--which has doors, right? (I told you Scriptural exegesis was not my forte.) Instead, Fr.Jaki argues that keys are in fact representational of great power, both in ancient cultures in general and Biblical Jewish culture in particular. Visually, the use of "key" would have resonated with the keys of the city gate of Caesarea Philippi itself nearby. A familiar allusion is to "the keys of the city," usually held by a mayor or another magistrate, and sometimes presented to guests in great favor. Even better than this, however, is the fact that Jewish rabbis "as they completed their training for that office, they received from their teachers and the rabbinate a key which symbolized their authority to teach God's message. Some rabbis had that key sewn in their robes; others carried it on their girdle as a blunt reminder of the mission and authority they assumed. It was that key which symbolized their power 'to loose and to bind,' that is, to declare this or that action as not contrary or contrary to divine dispensation embodied in the Law of Moses" (Jaki, KotK, 43). Fr.Jaki cites a story in which God gives Elijah the keys to His divine power over rainfall and death, but withholds the key to life. Furthermore, there was a long tradition behind the keys given to the stewards of great houses as a sign of the power entrusted to them.

Best of all, however, is the supposition that arises from the possibility that this pronouncement was made at the same time as Yom Kippur. During this celebration, an important element was the duty of the high priest to go into the Holy of Holies and speak "the sacred tetragrammaton YHVH (Yahveh)" (45). As Fr.Jaki explains, "The designation by Christ of Simon, son of Jonah, as Kaiapha (the aramaic form of the Hebrew kepha or rock) could just as readily evoke the name of another high priest, the one actually serving, Kaiapha, who on that very day pronounced the holy name in the Holy of Holies. As a high priest, Kaiapha alone had the symbolic key, that is, the power of access to that place, especially connected with the presence of God" (Jaki, 46). Is it not possible that as Simon Peter alone of the Apostles understood and expressed Jesus' true nature as the Christ, that because of this he was made Kaiapha, the true high priest, with the power of the keys, in the true Church to come? How awesome a parallel is that?!

Perhaps few will share my excitement, or rather, few will share my credulity. I don't need something to be watertight in order to get excited about it, but some may need full documentation in order to accept a theory. Nevertheless, I hope this brief exposition serves to enrich the appreciation of today's Feast of the Chair of St. Peter. Thank God for the papacy, that office which sets the Catholic religion apart from every other, and provides a sure foundation in this inconstant world. And God bless and preserve the present pope, His Holiness John Paul II. St. Peter, ora pro nobis!

Link

2005-02-21T21:46:00.000-08:00

Here is a post on the necessity of a stable concept of "man" from the blog Light on Dark Water, which reminded me of O.O.'s post on the same topic. I thought it interesting that these posts were written about the same time and on the same subject, and I recommend reading them in conjunction with one another.

Retreat

2005-02-20T19:38:00.000-08:00

I just returned from the weekend silent retreat held by two priests from the Home of the Mother in Spain. It was a retreat based on the exercises of St. Ignatius, of course, but since it took place in 1/15 the usual amount of time, it was a very different experience from what I imagine the real thing would be. The two priests were Fr. Felix, a Spaniard with a beautiful Castilian accent, and Fr. Colm, an Irishman with a beautiful Irish accent (sorry, I don't know which county he's from.) They were excellent homilists as well as spiritual directors, with a blatant love for Christ and uncompromising devotion to His Mother. In fact, the threefold mission of their order is to defend the Eucharist, to uphold the perpetual virginity of Our Lady, and to evangelize young people. I don't know much about them otherwise, but I recommend checking out their website, and if they happen to be offering a retreat in your area, go to it. I won't say anything trite such as "It was an amazing experience," but I will affirm that it made some definite changes in my thinking, which I intend to translate into my spiritual life. Many thanks for the prayers.

On a less uplifting note, the Old Oligarch has a post regarding Terry Schiavo, and her potential death this coming Tuesday. O.O. traces the theological corruption of Luther as it gives rise to Enlightenment ideology, which in turn (to make a long story short) leads to the kind of legal system that would support Mrs. Schiavo's murder. I especially appreciated this paragraph:

"Thus, as far as I can see, if we are serious about the centrality of the concept of person in Western political thought, one cannot expect to have a stable regime without a stable concept of person, especially in a political form such as democracy. Yet the concept of person is intrinsically theological. So to have a stable concept of person, one's regime must be informed by a theological vision of man. Thus, to the extent that a regime has a Christian anthropology rather than an agnostic one, its political vision of man is better. And to the extent that a regime has a fully Catholic anthropology, it is better still. To the extent that a regime's concept of man is constitutionally informed by only natural law and a little Deism, it is less than ideal. When the residual influence of more robust forms of Christianity in the citizenry diminishes and becomes diluted by cultural and religious pluralism, soon the most important political concept in the system undergoes stark mutations as modern society slowly works out the most satiating forms of the collective will to power."

I apologize for appropriating your words, my dear Oligarch, and using them in defense of that regime which St. Thomas Aquinas names best in his work De Regno, namely, monarchy, especially as I do not know the exact nature of your political leanings. Nevertheless, this is the first application of your words that occurred to me. While I do not deny that other forms of government may perhaps be capable of working with the Church in creating a virtuous citizenry (the end of the state), I think that St. Thomas chooses a monarchy because it is the most stable, peace being the first fruit of the state. I have studied this to some little extent, but I have neither the resources nor the energy to attempt a full exposition of the argument now. In addition, I claim the right of a student in making my plea that I have a quiz in two days from the legendary Dr. Fahey, which comes first. I merely wish to say that it is precisely in the state subordinated to the Church as the higher authority and sole moral guide that all human life will be guarded as it should be--and only there.

Eastern Wisdom

2005-02-17T19:56:00.000-08:00

This post was originally intended for publishing on Tuesday night, but blogger was giving me problems and refusing to publish or save my draft, so it has had to wait until today. Because I am just as busy today as I was then, but with the added advantage of being much crankier, the original intention of a short post is still in force. A longer one will have to wait until next Sunday at the least, when I will have returned from a silent spiritual retreat. I ask for prayers this weekend while I am on the retreat, of which I am in great need.

Original Post:
I had more patrons in the Writing Center (where I work) this evening than I had planned, so I am unable to post anything besides this quote, which I think will nevertheless make up for the lack of original material. It is from the thesis of Sabatino, an alumnus and friend, who is a big fan of St. Ephrem of Syria. This quote is in the beginning pages of his thesis:

I took my stand halfway between awe and love;

a yearning for Paradise invited me to explore it,

but awe at its majesty restrained me from my search.

With wisdom, however, I reconciled the two;

I revered what lay hidden and meditated on what was revealed.

The aim of my search was to gain profit,

the aim of my silence was to find succor.

This is from St. Ephrem's Hymns of Paradise. Sabatino's thesis is entitled The Mysterium Lucis: A Contemporary Biblical Exegesis According to the Patristic Application of the Edenic Paradigm. He intends to publish it, so if anyone is interested, keep an eye out. Even if he changes the title, you can hardly mistake his name. And of course, the fact that I contributed to its editing doesn't bias me toward it one way or the other.

Headship

2005-02-14T22:06:00.000-08:00

Either I will have to stop reading Old Oligarch, or I will have to remember to read him before I post, for he inevitably says something provocative. In this case, a link to an old archive on the headship of men caught my eye. It included a link to an article about the tradition of wearing chapel veils, a tradition I staunchly support and follow. But two things stop me from blogging about this subject myself (well, three, because I'm a classicist and I can have no fewer than three reasons for anything, according to Dr. Fahey): these are, 1) I don't know enough about the topic even to fake erudition; 2) I do not wish, like Miss Elizabeth Bennet, to be accused of seeking to recommend myself to the opposite sex by undervaluing my own; and 3) O.O. himself has already posted much more and better than I could have. Thus, I will merely say that I agree with him completely, that I think it can be nothing but good for a marriage that is arranged under the leadership and authority of the husband, and that I hope someday to have such a marriage myself. However, here is the link, for those of you who will wish to read it for yourselves. I also recommend the other links in the left sidebar of the Porch, under the title Headship.

Reversal

2005-02-14T21:29:00.000-08:00

From those of you grieved by my long absence, I beg forgiveness. I will only make one excuse, and say that I had a paper and a test last week which absorbed more time and attention than they were worth. Now, on to interesting stuff.

I recently came across this link to an interesting article on change in society, and the possibility of turning the clock back. The article was primarily concerned with moral issues, but it reminded me of the many technological problems we face (which are of course, at bottom, moral issues as well).

Over Christmas break I was very industrious, and managed to read a non-fiction book. It was entitled Giving up the Gun, by Noel Perrin, an agrarian writer along the lines of Wendell Berry. This book recounts the tale of Japan's encounter with firearms, and its technological reversion, as a whole country, to the sword. Although the subject does not at first appear particularly deep, Perrin uses this historical example to illustrate the remarkable and inspiring case of a traditional culture triumphing over so-called "progress."

The Japanese were first introduced to guns in the first half of the sixteenth century, through Dutch and Portuguese traders. Once the guns' efficacy was demonstrated, the feudal warlords began buying and distributing them to their samurai and other soldiers by the hundreds. Soon, the Japanese, in their typical over-acheiving style, learned how to craft and rapidly produce guns themselves. Eventually, I believe by the mid 17th century, the Japanese were among the most prolific exporters of firearms in the world. There are Japanese manuscripts from that period, describing the first battles to implement guns, including the three-tiered method of firing and re-loading so familar to Revolutionary War enthusiasts. There are also manuals for loading and firing, cleaning, and storing guns, and of course instructions on firing positions. The Japanese were widely recognized as expert in both making and using guns.

However, when the British "opened" Japan in the late 19th century, no one in Japan knew how to fire the artillery guarding their ports in order to stop them. Scarcely anyone knew what firearms were, and no one knew any longer how to use them. What had changed between the 17th and the 19th centuries?

Noel Perrin says that the samurai had seen the direction in which the use of the gun was taking their culture, and chose to put a stop to it. Composing nearly ten percent of the population, the samurai were a major force in culture. Perrin isolates five reasons in particular for why the samurai abandoned the gun, most of which I don't remember, because the piece of paper I took notes on is still in my dorm room. However, the general feeling was that, in doing away with the sword, the use of the gun as as the primary weapon in war also did away with much of treasured Japanese tradition. It took away the opportunity for the nobility, heroism, and strict forms of courtesy that had characterized the battlefield previously. It forced the body to take ungraceful and ungainly positions. It made no distinction between skilled and unskilled, noble and peasant. Although capable of being crafted with beauty, the gun did not have the long traditions of honor that Japanese culture assoiated with the sword.

Thus, the shogun of the period did not make any laws outright forbidding guns, but instead very cleverly arranged it so that all the gunmakers in Japan were situated in one of two principal cities. Then he monopolized the gun contracts, and ordered fewer and fewer firearms over the years. Out of the necessity to support themselves, many Japanese gunsmiths went back to being swordmakers. Many samurai lords refused to use the gun at all. Gradually, the gun disappeared from use, till eventually it ceased to play a part in Japanese life.

I hope no one mistakes me, and imagines that I am an advocate of gun control, a pacifist, or unfamiliar with guns. My father owns many guns, I have gone shooting with him and enjoyed myself, and I am going to get a concealed carry permit when I graduate. However, I read and loved this book because it makes the very important point that, contrary to what most of modern society imagines, it is in fact possible consciously to limit the use of technology. The Japanese of the 18th century are an excellent example of a culture deliberately choosing not to adopt a certain branch of technology, of considering an avenue of "progress" as an option, and not a necessity merely by virtue of its existence, and making this decision based on some idea of the good for man (however imperfect). Because the Japanese had the intelligece and clarity to see the changes already made, and the foresight to understand where the changes were leading, they turned their backs on a piece of technology which was easier, faster, and more exciting than previously available technology, and returned to their old ways. In doing so, they did not descend into barabarism, as the modernists seem to imagine the inevitable alternative to "progress." They merely sucessfully retained the rich, ancient, and traditional culture of their people, and preserved their society a little longer. (Please understand as well that I am not comparing the Japanese to their contemporaries in Europe, nor am I exalting Eastern Buddhism over Western Christianity.)

I merely think this historical event serves as an example for the ignorant or unconcerned in modern society, whose picture of the "Dark Ages" involves nothing but early death, continual disease, and a bestial, superstitious mentality. Imagining that this unattractive altenative to a space-age future is the only alternative, of course they accept the current irresponsible development and utilization of any and all forms of technological progress, and the gross immorality and degradation of life that have come along with it. But if only people could see that there is a third alternative, neither space-age nor barbaric, where technology is accepted as it serves the true human good, and only then. Once people can do that, that is when they will deserve to be proud of their progress.

Happy News

2005-02-07T20:41:00.000-08:00

Thank you, Old Oligarch, for making my day. For the notification of a new (yet traditional) religious order, click here. Nota Bene: I will be posting afresh here within the next few days, if anyone is wondering whether I've given up my blog entirely. Meanwhile, how cool is this? Here's a link to a Chesterton article recommended by tonight's Major Speaker at Christendom, Fr. Schall.

Recommendation

2005-02-04T13:24:00.000-08:00

Over in his Stoa Poikile, Old Oligarch cogitates deeply on the mystery of conversion. I highly recommend it.

Tradition

2005-02-02T14:30:00.000-08:00

I had a discussion recently about tradition with a dear friend with whom I typically disagree in everything. In order to argue against this friend I'll create an exaggerated straw-woman and call her Jane, a name I can't stand.

Jane likes traditions, but has a mistaken view of their significance. She thinks they are important in that they provide a sense of continuity for a culture or people, or even the human race in general, by acting as stable links between the generations. Otherwise, she says, if each generation were to do completely different things from the last, there would be no connection with the past--each generation would be a separate thing, with no relation to past or future.

As it happens, I agree with her in this. As MacIntyre writes in his book After Virtue, it is impossible for a man (and I suppose, a city or nation) to have an identity in isolation from what went before and what happens after. The "historical narrative" of a life is necessary if that life is to be intelligible.

However, my friend went on to describe what she seems to regard as a "living" or "organic" tradition, taking the example of the Christmas tree. In pre-Christian times, she said, the tree was a Druidic symbol of life and renewal. Then it was used for Christmas, which celebrates Christ's birth. (Now, she could have added, it has been completly stripped of meaning as a part of our materialistic secular culture). For Jane, the presence of a tree assures the continuity of the tradition, despite the complete reversal and even the abandonment of the symbolism behind the tree. In fact, the metamorphosis of the underlying symbolism she views as a good thing in itself, maintaining that societies can only be dynamic if they change, and change only comes about through conflict.

Of course, I disagree. To begin with, there is no true link between generations in such a case, because there is no longer a continuity in the meaning of the tradition. The essence of the tradition does not lie in the physical fact of the tree, but in the metaphysical reality behind the tree, to which the tree is intended to point. The Druids were pagans, and although they may have linked the tree with the idea of life, it cannot be the same life of the soul with which Catholics associate the tree at Christ's birthday. Thus, to say that the tradition of a Christmas tree is a shared tradition from the Druids till this day is to confuse accidental with substantial change. In the first case, it is merely the qualities or appearances of a thing that are changed, the substance remaining the same. In the second, the substance itself undergoes the change, thus bringing about new accidents as well. I believe Christian Christmas trees are in the order of a substantial change from Druidic pagan rites. In distinction to this, Jane seems to think that the substance can change while the accidents remain the same, a sort of inverted accidental change, which I think is neither physically nor philosophically possible. I'll see what I can do in getting her to read some Aristotle.

Although a tradition can indeed point to its origins in another society and culture, it cannot act as a true connection for an "organic" society when the beginning and the end are totally opposed to each other. Traditions are more than just a series of customs, they point to something beyond the material realm, an aspect of culture that reflects the shared view of a people regarding their communal good, and the acceptance of those aspects of being worth celebrating. For this reason, it is also ineffectual to say that traditions have "personal" meaning, or that the private individual decides for himself in these matters. Traditions, like festivity, must recognize an objective truth or a good that is actually good, or there is no meaning and no continuity. (If anyone is interested in exploring this further, I suggest Josef Pieper's In Tune With the World: A Theory of Festivity).

While it may be instructive at times to see the metamorphosis of a tradition, the change itself is only worthwhile if it is a change toward what is better. Change for the sake of change is never a good thing. My Jane, and the many other Janes out there, have only a very confused idea (if any) of the good. Their conception of the good does not supply an adequate standard by which to measure changes--most of them can't see whether a change is for the better or not. Many of them don't care. However, unlike the Enlightenment philosophes (to speak catachrestically), who convinced themselves that there is no truth which can be grasped, only new knowledge to be sought, there is a real, perceivable Truth by which all else is measured. This Truth is the only light in which customs, societies, festivities, and of course, traditions should be viewed. Only then can we be sure that we are moving from what is good to what is better, and finally, to what is best.

Conversion

2005-01-29T13:49:00.000-08:00

My blog activity dried up for several days for many factors, not the least of which was the sudden consciousness of being read.

I have been thinking about conversions recently. A visiting priest at our Christendom chapel, the witty, reverent, and traditional Fr. Fasano (the spelling may not be correct), gave an awesome homily in honor of the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul. (As Dr. Fahey said with all his habitual wryness, "This is an occasion of gladness for many, as today the Old and new calendars agree for once.") Fr. Fasano spoke about someone who had asked him to make him a Catholic on his deathbed, and mentioned several of the many other people who have done so as well, like John Wayne, and Mae West ("I may not be able to live like a Catholic, but I sure can die as one.") "Somehow," Father mused, "No one ever seems to be siezed with a sudden longing to die a Methodist, or a Unitarian. No, when they think of death, they think of coming home, and they wish to come home to the Church."

I have always had difficulty understanding this. Why would someone convert to the Catholic Church? Lest anyone mistake me, let me explain that I love my Church and would never consider leaving Her, that I understand and profess Her creed. But as a near-cradle Catholic (I was baptized when I was three), I have never been outside the Church, and so I think it is difficult for me to imagine the contrast of a life inside to a life without, and what about the Church would attract someone without.

Some may think this contradicts what I have written before, about my own conversion. However, my conversion was different both in degree and kind from the sort I am considering. I was merely made to see the beauties I had been missing, and to reject the disorder in their places, in a Church already familiar to me. My return curve is in a category altogether apart from true converts such as G.K. Chesterton, Monsignor Robert H. Benson, and the Venerable John Henry Cardinal Newman. Of course, their conversions are of a slightly different order from the ones I am considering as well--through grace and intense rational investigation they came to their concluusions and were brave enough to act on them. No, I am considering the many who are outside the Church, who convert not through intellectual conclusions, but because of something they see in the Church that tells them She is their home.

For the Church is a many-leveled and intricate thing, the multifoliate rose. In his great book Orthodoxy, Chesterton writes on "the paradoxes of Christianity," illustrating the seeming contradictions of Christianity that ultimately balance each other and, to the discerning eye, indicate the depth of the Truth the Church possesses. But in this modern culture which denies faith in favor of empirical evidence, rejects the conclusions of reason as a legitimate basis for truth, refuses to distinguish between competing "ethical value systems," and proclaims rational autonomy as the good for man, why does anyone turn to an authoritarian, hirerarchical, tradition-saturated Church with a basis in supernatural faith and an insistence on objective truth as Her sole possession? How does anyone get past the myopia, the conditioning, and the general brainwashing of the Modern ages in order to see the radiance of the Catholic Church "like the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in battle array"?

My mother, who, as a fallen-away Catholic, converted with my fallen-away Protestant father, says that for some it is a recognition of the congruence of Church teaching with their lives--the reality of sin, and the necessity of contrition, for example.

Although I am unable to empathize, I wonder anew each time I am confronted with a conversion, and the joy with which the convert recognizes his true Home (I'm reading Newman's Apologia Pro Vita Sua right now). I can only be amazed and humbled that God has put me in the Church and kept me there. With St. Paul I say, "By the grace of God I am what I am," and I am grateful for it.

For an intelligent article on the call to a place "more religious than home" (Newman,) please click on the link in the sidebar entitled "Odyssey." (The link works now!)

March

2005-01-25T10:39:00.000-08:00

Naturally, the entire college attended the March for Life yesterday. Naturally, the experience raised many issues and questions in my mind. And naturally, I'm going to pontificate about them here.

We had a relaxed start, with Mass at 8:30, which is later than we usually get up. For some reason, however, we misread the clock and though it was only 8:45 after we had finished breakfast. How we thought it could be possible to attend Mass and eat breakfast within fifteen minutes is impossible to explain, but nevertheless we strolled back to our dorm in leisurely fashion, convinced that we had an hour and a half before the buses rolled out. In our room, the digital clocks undecieved us as to the time situation, and we ended up having to run.

Somehow, we found ourselves on a bus with thirty freshmen and three upperclassmen, two of whom were ourselves (TheresaMF and I). The freshmen we found ourselves with were the particularly loud, restless, frenetic type. I mourned my forgotten Motrin. However, the trip turned out to be bearable, despite the initial noise level, because the kids decided to channel most of their energy into singing Irish songs, a reassuringly Christendom pastime. Theresamf and I spent the time reading Book VIII of Plato's Republic for our Society and the Common Good class.

We arrived at the March just in time for the national anthem, and all those fascinating speeches that inevitably follow. It's ironic that the although the March is named for the walking part, three quarters of it is actually made up of speech-giving, waiting to march (moving three inches and stopping again), and then, for some, waiting in a huge line to talk to their representatives. Although I only really enjoy one quarter of it, I don't mind the other three quarters--the boredom, the cold, the hunger, and the fatigue--because it's all excellent suffering, prime material to be offered up for the children's souls.

What I do mind is the confusion of the speech-givers' rhetoric, and their mistaken ideas. Although all are conservative and many are Catholic, few of them have a view of reality uncorrupted by the Enlightenment and general Modernist sentiment. For instance, there are those who urge a return to the "freedom dreamed of by our Founding Fathers," and the "original" government planned by our "Founding Fathers." Such people believe that all our political problems will be solved by going back to an earlier time, as though the Enlightenment Protestant basis this country began with is the answer! But how do they think we've gotten here? This moral disintegration, political turmoil, and ideological chaos is the natural end product of a government founded on those very bases, the natural result of worldviews that reject authority, tradition, and the true Faith.

The misguided speakers also applaud the scientific data that they claim is giving the pro-life cause victories in legislation, gushing about how science is our ally in this effort. Debates about the ravages of the scientific method and the scientific mentality on proper education and Catholic culture aside, science is not needed in order to convince those having and performing abortions that they are killing humans. In my opinion, very few women or doctors think they are not ending human life. However, the supposedly undeniable and objective information of "science" will not convince them to admit it. Both women and doctors are there doing what they do for the very reason that they are capable of immeasurable heights of self-delusion and self-justification. Interviews I have read by women involved in abortion indicate that the majority know perfectly well what they are doing in having an abortion, but they do it not because they are ignorant of what is inside them--("Ohmigosh, I had no idea! It's a baby?!! Science says so?! Well, let me out of this clinic!")--but because they want something more than they want that baby, and are ready to sacrifice the baby for that thing while telling themselves they have the right to do so. What is needed to change their minds is not more "new and incontrovertible" scientific information, but a complete revamping of culture along with total moral overhaul.

Finally, the third typical theme that the speech-givers harp on is the millions of "useful, productive" citizens lost to abortion. I see t-shirts everywhere that regret, and hear the speech-makers' lament, those hypothetical Thomas Edisons, Martin Luther Kings, and, yes, Ella Fitzgeralds of the world that we may have gained had the "American holocaust" never happened. But I dislike such a utilitarian approach, dislike it immensely. Although it could be argued that pro-lifers are attempting to fight on the liberals' own grounds and represent in terms more meaningful (than those religion provides) to them what they may have lost, it also displays a cold, calculating, non-Catholic view of life which is abhorrent. After all, many babies aborted are killed for the very reason that they would not be useful or productive citizens had they been allowed to live. Babies who are blind, deaf, with Down's syndrome, limbs missing, or are marked out in utero with some one or other of many defects that will not only render them completely helpless and dependent, but totally "unproductive" according to the standards held by modern society. So-called "productivity," or even the artistic talents and intelligence lauded by those t-shirts, are flimsy reasons to protect human lives. The answer, as always, is love.

I do not write these thoughts to run down the pro-life movement or its supporters. I'm glad there are a few politicians out there not unwilling to risk votes for the sake of the good. Nevertheless, I do think that before ours and their efforts to protect life can be effective, they must have a true understanding of the good for which they are fighting. Pursuing the right end for the wrong reasons, with a faulty understand or mistaken method, can work as much against the cause as for it. For those who do not understand me, I recommend Cardinal Newman's essay, The Tamworth Reading Room.

Not to be all doom and gloom, there were some very heartening moments on the March. Theresamf was determined to catch up with her beloved Dominican friars from her parish, so we ended up leaving the Christendom banner at the tail end of the procession and running almost to the very front in search of them. When we had found them (in the last tenth of the walk or so), she decided she missed her Dominican nuns from Mary Mother of the Eucharist in Michigan. Thus, we dropped out of the March and hiked back down the street again, stoppping at one point to wait for them, till, at the tail end of the March (behind Christendom) we saw them approaching, and finished the March with them. Nowhere in America (save Christendom on Vocations Day) can you find so many priests and religious casually flaunting their habits and strolling about as though it were a normal thing to be Catholic. It reminded me of Rome, and Theresamf was in heaven, eyes popping and mouth drooling at the various sprinklings of gray, black, white, and dark blue habits passing all about her. In addition, we saw a lady with hair down to her feet, all matted and dirty (in fact, it looked like a giant canine feces), a kid with a red mohawk standing out in a ten inch radius from his head, and ten or so lonely pro-death protesters (probably the clinic escorts on their day off) protected by as many cops. They chanted the usual things about how Jesus should have been aborted and other things I didn't hear and didn't want to. Theresamf was torn by the desire to witness by kneeling and praying in front of them, and finding her Dominicans. The Dominicans won.

After the March, we hung out at Union Station and had juicy burgers, window-shopped the expensive stores, and poured over the gorgeous dresses in the bridal magazines in the bookstore. When the bus came to pick us up, no one was missing or late, and we finished the Republic on the way back. All in all, it was a good day.

Republicanism

2005-01-23T17:05:00.000-08:00

While reading my assignment for my class in Ancient Roman History today, I was struck by the similarities between the early Republics in both Rome and America (not for the first time). Now, lest any be scandalized at my gross generalizations and glaring ignorance (for instance, I confuse Enlightenment thinkers and Revolutionaries with reckless abandon), let him be forewarned of its probability, and prepare himself.

That aside, it seems to me that the republics of countries particularly affected by the modernist spirit of the Enlightenment movement, such as France and America, were very interested in imitating the early Roman and Greek societies. The modernists seemed to admire in them what they thought was some form of natural virtue, a golden age resulting from the rule of pure reason, a "freedom" from the "tutelage" of kings and priests, and a consequent atmosphere of liberty, equality, and brotherhood (sound familiar?) In reading tales of Horatius Cocles (Horatio at the bridge, for any of those who have read Lord Macaulay), the citizen hero who makes his brave stand for the sake of the freedom of the Republic, and of Cincinnatus, the gentleman-farmer who came out of retirement long enough to save Rome, and then handed back the dictatorship after only sixteen days, I can detect traces of what the Enlightenment thinkers believed they would acheive in embracing an atheist republic. The Romans were honorable, brave, victorious in battle, enormously powerful, and enjoyed everlasting fame even after their downfall. Moreover, they acheived all this without Christianity or Kings. It is not wonderful, then, that the men of the French Revolution attempted to imitate what they saw in ancient Rome--hence the dedication of a "temple" to the goddess "reason," during the Terror in France, the deliberate imitation of Roman fashion in ladies' dress (especially in Britain, or so my friend Christina says), the general depiction of Catholicism as "weak" and "womanish," Napoleon's attempt to re-create the Roman Empire, etc. Even poor George Washington (whom I believe to have been a good man) is seen in American lore much like Cincinnatus--the selfless gentleman-farmer who left his crops only long enough to save the Republic, before retiring from absolute power out of the nobility of his nature.

If this was the American and French Republicans' aims, why did they not succeed? I wondered. I think the answer must be two-fold (I know, as a good Classicist Dr. Faheys says I should make it threefold, but I don't have the time to come up with another reason. Dr. Blum is also very fond of the number three. He says, "It is the first number of which we say 'all.'") The Republicans failed primarily because in order to have the external aspects of honor, bravery, and glory, they decided to reject Catholicism, tradition, and true authority. They mistook what they saw in the Romans, believing that paganism and "pure" reason (untainted by faith, that is) were the basis for qualities which the Romans actually possessed in spite of those things. In fact, the Enlightenment thinkers and Revolutionaries overlooked the emphasis on religion and the duty owed to the gods, the general acceptance of immaterial reality and its impact on man, and the readiness to sacrifice self for higher things such as the res publica or the politeia generally accepted as a matter of course in many ancient societies. An example of such a people are the Spartans (favorites of mine), whose reformation under Lycurgus through his rigorous laws prove their devotion to the good of their fatherland, and their ability to relinquish much material comfort for its sake.

A reversion to such a state was, and is, impossible for the Modernist dreamers. Not only are they at a grave disadvantage for having rejected the truth of Christianity (rather than never having known it, like the Ancient Republicans), they in fact desire virtue without sacrifice, which is impossible. While they talk about selflessness and honor, they reject the very means (tradition, authority, recognition of the common good) by which they may possess and practice it. They want supernatural heroism without acknowledging the existence of the supernatural realm.

Give me the real Romans any day.

Shadows

2005-01-22T15:53:00.000-08:00

Today was Saturday, the day Christendomnites go to D.C. and pray outside the abortion clinic. There were a few unusual elements, such as the bitter cold, the driving snow, the chain-link fences surrounding Planned Parenthood's property, the news station crews, and the eight police cars that seemed to think we were there to plan an all-out assault on the clinic and its escorts. (I do not deny the thought was tempting--"Have fun storming the castle!") But the particularly familiar elements of "pro-choice" hostility and the obliviousness to the issues truly at stake were also evident. People drove by in cars and honked and waved to the escorts to show their support. Others gave us the finger. Some called out obscenities. A couple of young men thought it fitting to walk back and forth behind us, making duck-like quacking noises and turkey gobble-gobble sounds. (I am still trying to figure out how this made us look ridiculous, rather than them). The escorts cheered when the main body of us left after an hour and a half of praying, but what they did not realize was that the effects of our prayers do not cease once we are no longer present. They are completely unaware of the spiritual powers behind us in the continual battle of life against death. There is so much more in the world than that which meets the senses. The escorts, and those who think like them, are still in the cave, and are convinced that the shadows on the wall before them are all that matter, when in reality the shadows are nothing. It is only when I recall that the things of this world are like "rust on the scales," as the Psalm says, that I can have peace, and forgive.

Elucidation

2005-01-21T16:19:00.000-08:00

I suppose some will wonder what "The Return Curve" means, and why a girl would call herself The Chevalier, so this post will be at least a partial explanation of these things. Partial, because I intend this blog to be a forum for my intellectual outporing rather than a substitute for the confessional. In addition, lest some suspect me of solipsism, I wish to make clear that I attempt this elucidation as a tribute to my dear teacher (gone, but not forgotten), Dr. Reyes, as well as the other professors of Christendom College who have assisted in the return curve, either consciously or otherwise.

I came to Christendom College my freshman year not exactly a different person than the one I am now, but certainly possessing a different worldview (Weltenschaung, thank you, Dr. Reyes). I had been raised Catholic. I loved America, and was zealously patriotic as well as a conservative Republican. I thought that the separation of Church and state made sense--sometimes the government just has to do things for the sake of the country that may not be entirely compatible with Church doctrine, correct? I accepted unquestioningly "rights" such as the right to free speech, and the free market of unbridled capitalism. I had never attended any other Mass than the Novus Ordo--I was scarcely aware that any other existed.

One day early in my first freshman semester, I sought out my History 101 teacher, Dr. Reyes (of blessed memory) in his office to answer a question I had. He mistook my question, whether deliberately or otherwise, I have never been sure. In either case, that was the beginning of a series of conversations which eventually led to a complete political and spiritual conversion. If I may borrow from Plato's cave metaphor, the process of striking off my fetters and of turning me around to face the firelight was so gradual that I did not know what had happened until it was completed. On the other hand, the ascent to the upper world can hardly even be said to have begun (it's a long tunnel, and I'm a slow climber).

What was this process? Simply put, Dr. Reyes asked me questions designed to make me scrutinize my most basic assumptions, to examine them for rational justifications, and to explain them to him. Naturally, I was unable to do this. Thus, I forsook my former opinions, and went before my teachers as a beggar with open hands, seeking their guidance. In fact, the image that I associate with this period is from St. Augustine's Confessions, where he speaks of himself and his two friends in their search for the truth: "So there were three begging mouths, sighing out their wants one to the other, and waiting upon Thee, that Thou mightest give them their meat in due season" (Bk.6, Ch.10, para.17). Another translation I have read describes them as "gaping" mouths, which I find satisfyingly graphic. I cannot describe my feelings during this time of conversion--the fear of leaving my familiar Weltenschaung behind, the confusion of sorting through the various new ideas I was receiving, the excitement of perceiving whatever gleams of true sunlight made it down the tunnel shaft, and the urgency of having to absorb as much of Dr. Reyes' Personal Influence as was possible in the time allotted me, in class as well as out, can be understood only by someone who has experienced a conversion of his own.

While my willingness to undergo a conversion was almost immediate, and while the realization of what the conversion would include, what I was seeking and how it would look, took a little longer, the actual conversion is of course, still underway. It will probably take me a lifetime. Therefore, when Dr. Blum introduced us to the Soirees de St.Petersbourgh in his Critics of the Enlightenment class, I found de Maistre's words still applicable to my situation:

The Count: [Racine's] muse . . . must be cherished by all teachers, for it is a family muse, which sings only of reason and virtue. . . I have congratulated you for having begun with him; I must congratulate you again for having learned him on the knees of your excellent mother . . . What is called the man, that is to say the moral man, is perhaps formed by the age of ten; and if it has not been done on the knees of his mother, it will always be a great misfortune. Nothing can replace this education. If the mother especially has made it a duty to imprint the divine character deeply on the brow of her son, one can be quite sure that the hand of vice will never efface it. The young man can go astray, undoubtedly, but he will experience, if you will permit me this expression, a returning curve that will lead him back to the point where he began

The Chevalier (laughing): Would you believe, my good friend, that the curve, with me, begins to turn back.

This blog exists to display, for my own satisfaction and perhaps others' interest, the conclusions reached on this return curve.

My First Post

2005-01-20T20:43:00.000-08:00

I begin this post with some excitement. I've always felt a great affinity for the written word, especially prose. Poetry is a mystery to me, however enjoyable or moving some poems may be, and while I used frequently to attempt fiction, I never allowed myself to think I was good at it. On the other hand, I have learned to express myself well in essays and papers under the guidance of my dear teachers of Christendom College, so I expect to enjoy this writing experience.

Today, I was struck by the confluence of ideas in two of my classes. It began when I asked my teacher Dr. Fahey to explain the significance of the clash between Romulus and Remus at the founding of Rome. For those who have never read Livy's History of Rome, Romulus killed his brother Remus when the latter leaped the newly-fashioned rampart surrounding the city. In Florus' Epitome of Roman History, Remus' blood was said to have "hallowed" the foundations of the new city. This is an unusual statement--typically, a murder (and a seemingly unjust murder at that) is a bad omen. However, Dr. Fahey explained that the walls or ramparts of a city were in fact constructed upon a boundary called the pomerium. This pomerium was inscribed upon the earth by the leader or chief of the city, using a white ox pulling a plow. Once traced, the boundary was a holy thing, a dedication to whichever protecting deity the chief called upon--a pact between god and man. Within its confines the new city would arise. Thus, when Remus dared to breach the boundary Romulus had inscribed as leader, he was both challenging Romulus' authority, and profaning the sacred relationship between the god and his people which that boundary represented. For this profanation Romulus was entirely justified in killing him. In a sense (if I may carry the interpretation a little farther) it seems that Florus speaks of Remus' blood hallowing the foundations because Remus became Romulus' sacrifice to the god. I was thrilled to learn the deeper meaning behind this oft-misinterpreted legend. Modern culture has lost the sacramental sense of reality that earlier peoples possessed--the sense of a realm beyond the senses that nevertheless impinges upon daily life--the awareness of the sacred informing the secular. (I am indebted to my best friend, theresamf, for an articulation of this insight. In fact, she wrote her thesis on it).

This explanation of a myth in turn brought my thoughts to the Romans and their idea of their city. Dr. Fahey tells us that the res publica was a thing transcending the mere concept of city government, rulers, or legislation, for even in the days of the Empire, the res publica remained in the Roman vocabulary. It was an entity in its own right--the "public thing." This idea gave off an aura that reminded me of another idea I had received recently from my reading for my philosophy class with Dr. Cuddeback, called Society and the Common Good. In Plato's Republic, 423a, Plato speaks of the "bigness" of the city they have been trying to depict. The just city will acheive a "bigness" having nothing to do with size, that will nevertheless allow it to rise above the other, larger, but unjust cities. He does not go into detail about what he means, but I wonder if his "bigness" and the Romans' res publica are not related. In Book VII of the Republic, Plato also speaks of the necessity for the philosophers who have attained knowledge of the good to return to the cave, and there attempt to help the prisoners still trapped in the dark. Although the philosophers will be leaving a higher way of life for a lesser, their efforts are necessary, and indeed, required out of justice to the city and their duty to the common good. I admire this very quality in the early ages of the Roman Republic, in which, as the historian says, the "stern spirit of self-immolation for the common weal" was their distinguishing characteristic. What is the common good? What is the individual's responsibility towards it? Well, since it's only the third day of classes this semester, I do not yet expect to know the answer. However, I look forward to the journey.