Christian Heritage - August 31 - Reign with God
Augustine Day by Day - August 31 - Light to My Lamp
Okay, folks, that about wraps it up for me, if I'm not mistaken. My fall-to-summer vacation is over and it's back to teaching full-time tomorrow. It's been quite a ride here at NQCBSEI, and I've loved most every minute of it. You've been there for me, even when we lock horns, and I thank you.
One thing to notice, now that I've completely unveiled all my dirty ecclesial secrets, is that I'll no longer be Geistesweisheit. That gnarly name was an alias of secrecy, but now I walk in the light, so I'm just boring old Elliot B. Wow, eerie. I've had that tag for about two years. Sniffle. Snirk.
God bless you!
(We'll see what, if any, other tasks His Blogfulness has in store for me.)
Tuesday, August 31, 2004
For all you Phish phans
One of my buddies was there, at the phinal concert. Now you too can feel the ooze!
One of my buddies was there, at the phinal concert. Now you too can feel the ooze!
Falling flat
An interesting essay about the myth of flat-earth Medieval cosmology.
(Props to whomever I pilfered this from...you know who you are. ebb)
An interesting essay about the myth of flat-earth Medieval cosmology.
(Props to whomever I pilfered this from...you know who you are. ebb)
Monday, August 30, 2004
Elliot here
I've added a few clarifications to my "coming out" mega-post from yesterday. A mere sampling:
"First, I said “the Eucharist actually saves the world," and that is true. But just to be more exact, let me rephrase myself: "BY MEANS OF the Eucharist God the Father in Christ by the Holy Spirit saves the world." The Eucharist is not magic;...
"Second, although I emphasized the doctrinal, rational, literate aspects of my journey I want to emphasize even more clearly that I know this is not just an academic odyssey. I don't want ideas; I want Jesus. I don't want to know the truth; I want the Truth Himself." ...
"Third, I am not switching my allegiance from Christ to "the Church." People have asked me why Christ isn't enough, why trusting Him is inadequate without also trusting in His Church. All I can say is that this objection, or interjection, suffers from a grave false dichotomy. ..."
Have a look, say a prayer, drop a line, etc.
Okay, nighty night! The king returns soon!
I've added a few clarifications to my "coming out" mega-post from yesterday. A mere sampling:
"First, I said “the Eucharist actually saves the world," and that is true. But just to be more exact, let me rephrase myself: "BY MEANS OF the Eucharist God the Father in Christ by the Holy Spirit saves the world." The Eucharist is not magic;...
"Second, although I emphasized the doctrinal, rational, literate aspects of my journey I want to emphasize even more clearly that I know this is not just an academic odyssey. I don't want ideas; I want Jesus. I don't want to know the truth; I want the Truth Himself." ...
"Third, I am not switching my allegiance from Christ to "the Church." People have asked me why Christ isn't enough, why trusting Him is inadequate without also trusting in His Church. All I can say is that this objection, or interjection, suffers from a grave false dichotomy. ..."
Have a look, say a prayer, drop a line, etc.
Okay, nighty night! The king returns soon!
Dawn Eden Looks At Planned Parenthood's Latest Attempt to Destroy Childhood
Poor J.K. Rowling. She must have every kook and ideologue in the world trying to badger her with demands and accusations.
Poor J.K. Rowling. She must have every kook and ideologue in the world trying to badger her with demands and accusations.
Hippocratic Oath a Casualty of War
More good things emerge from our adventure in Iraq. Next up: Getting in touch with the Inner Taliban as Iranian Mullahs broker peace for Iraqis and Yankees at loggerheads.
More good things emerge from our adventure in Iraq. Next up: Getting in touch with the Inner Taliban as Iranian Mullahs broker peace for Iraqis and Yankees at loggerheads.
Urgent Help Needed
A reader writes:
If you can be of any help, contact Geri.
A reader writes:
Hello, everyone!
I've been speaking to an unmarried woman in her mid-30s, in her fourth month with a Downs Syndrome Baby. She has an aborton scheduled.
She has relented, and given us a few days to see if there is a family out there who wants to adopt her special-needs baby. Her family is totally against the abortion, and wants her to adopt the baby out. Mom was very insistent on going ahead with the abortion, so this respite of a few days buys us time.
Do you know of anyone right now ready to adopt a special-needs baby? It is probably better if they have gotten their home study or are in the process. We need to have this woman speak to people who can take action now and convince her that her baby is wanted. If you don't know of any families, pls keep us all in prayer. I thank God we've been given this time to help her.
Thank you all.
If you can be of any help, contact Geri.
More Evidence Kerry is Toast
Elites... well, don't *love* him (nobody *loves* Kerry), but they at least support him in their intense loathing of Bush. And since elites control the mechanisms of mainstream media, which are very loud, it creates the illusion that Kerry has serious support. But the reality is told with the Big Shush Photo.
Things are not going according to Plan.
Elites... well, don't *love* him (nobody *loves* Kerry), but they at least support him in their intense loathing of Bush. And since elites control the mechanisms of mainstream media, which are very loud, it creates the illusion that Kerry has serious support. But the reality is told with the Big Shush Photo.
Things are not going according to Plan.
Christian Heritage - August 30 - Never Consider Hurting Your Enemy
Augustine Day by Day - August 30 - Every Moment You Are Passing On
(As a flippant aside, I saw *Monsters, Inc.* tonight. I've wanted to see it for years and was totally satisfied with it. I nearly died in an eruption of guffaws when Mike tries to get Boo to laugh. Huh-larious. Plus, the animation just blew me away. It's a weird compulsion for such a stuffy, bookish, old-fashioned guy as myself, but I simply LOVE all those CGI/animated comedies. *A Nightmare Before Christmas*, *Toy Story* (1 and 2), *A Bug's Life*, *Finding Nemo*, *Ice Age* -- you name it and I'll probably like it. People that know me never quite believe me, but it's true. Same thing for the show, *Blind Date.* I'm a raving fan and that baffles people.)
Augustine Day by Day - August 30 - Every Moment You Are Passing On
(As a flippant aside, I saw *Monsters, Inc.* tonight. I've wanted to see it for years and was totally satisfied with it. I nearly died in an eruption of guffaws when Mike tries to get Boo to laugh. Huh-larious. Plus, the animation just blew me away. It's a weird compulsion for such a stuffy, bookish, old-fashioned guy as myself, but I simply LOVE all those CGI/animated comedies. *A Nightmare Before Christmas*, *Toy Story* (1 and 2), *A Bug's Life*, *Finding Nemo*, *Ice Age* -- you name it and I'll probably like it. People that know me never quite believe me, but it's true. Same thing for the show, *Blind Date.* I'm a raving fan and that baffles people.)
Right Wingers Adopt Leftist Brownshirt Tactics
It's different when Right Wingers want to crush free speech and create a police state environment of informers and rats in a house of worship. When the Left does that, it's bad. But Our Side will use the Ring to do good.
Good thinking guys. Become the Enemy to defeat the Enemy.
It's different when Right Wingers want to crush free speech and create a police state environment of informers and rats in a house of worship. When the Left does that, it's bad. But Our Side will use the Ring to do good.
Good thinking guys. Become the Enemy to defeat the Enemy.
Whether through Grand End to Evil Strategies...
or Kerry's unwavering committment to "reforming the Middle East", America still clearly shows its Puritan roots and the profound conviction that we have been Chosen (by, variously, the Lord of Hosts, or Manifest Destiny, or Fate, or Societal Evolution, or the Spirit of Democratic Capitalism, or Planned Parenthood) to fix the rest of the world and fashion it in our Image and Likeness.
"I'm going to reform the Middle East." Hubris? Noble Ambition? Both?
or Kerry's unwavering committment to "reforming the Middle East", America still clearly shows its Puritan roots and the profound conviction that we have been Chosen (by, variously, the Lord of Hosts, or Manifest Destiny, or Fate, or Societal Evolution, or the Spirit of Democratic Capitalism, or Planned Parenthood) to fix the rest of the world and fashion it in our Image and Likeness.
"I'm going to reform the Middle East." Hubris? Noble Ambition? Both?
Unlike many American Conservatives, I regard Israel as just another nation-state
... and not some divinely ordained country that has God's stamp of approval on everything it does. The Jews are chosen. The state of Israel is just a human political construct. Therefore, I believe the state of Israel, like all purely human nation-states including the US, has only interests, not friends. For this reason, I regard the jury as still out on this story of alleged Israeli theft of American intelligence. (It's also covered here.) It could be true. It could be false. Time will tell.
Meantime, I note that David Frum is taking time out from his busy End to Evil project to suggest that anybody who might not immediately condemn this whole thing as a lie believes, not that purely human nation-states have interests and not friends, but that there is a "Jewish conspiracy". This is what is known as "manipulative rhetoric". It reminds me a great deal of the Kerry camp's attempt to muzzle the Swifties by saying, "Who are you going to believe? A War Hero or a bunch of latrine cleaners?"
For my part, I think I'll believe whatever the fact point to and not rush either to condemn or exonerate Israel till we know what's going on. I don't believe in "Jewish conspiracies" per se. Neither do I believe that Israel is absolutely incapable of ever ever ever doing anything wrong ever. I think it possible that Israel, like other nation-states, might try to steal US intelligence if they thought it in their vital interest. That is, I think Israel capable of acting like all human nation-states. But I will presume innocence till guilt is shown. I think this is a wiser approach than Frum's "If you think Israel capable of sin, then you are a kook who believe in The Jewish Conspiracy " approach.
... and not some divinely ordained country that has God's stamp of approval on everything it does. The Jews are chosen. The state of Israel is just a human political construct. Therefore, I believe the state of Israel, like all purely human nation-states including the US, has only interests, not friends. For this reason, I regard the jury as still out on this story of alleged Israeli theft of American intelligence. (It's also covered here.) It could be true. It could be false. Time will tell.
Meantime, I note that David Frum is taking time out from his busy End to Evil project to suggest that anybody who might not immediately condemn this whole thing as a lie believes, not that purely human nation-states have interests and not friends, but that there is a "Jewish conspiracy". This is what is known as "manipulative rhetoric". It reminds me a great deal of the Kerry camp's attempt to muzzle the Swifties by saying, "Who are you going to believe? A War Hero or a bunch of latrine cleaners?"
For my part, I think I'll believe whatever the fact point to and not rush either to condemn or exonerate Israel till we know what's going on. I don't believe in "Jewish conspiracies" per se. Neither do I believe that Israel is absolutely incapable of ever ever ever doing anything wrong ever. I think it possible that Israel, like other nation-states, might try to steal US intelligence if they thought it in their vital interest. That is, I think Israel capable of acting like all human nation-states. But I will presume innocence till guilt is shown. I think this is a wiser approach than Frum's "If you think Israel capable of sin, then you are a kook who believe in The Jewish Conspiracy " approach.
Here's a Job Requiring An Exquisitely Refined Ethical Sense. Who Should We Hire? Who Should We Hire?
How about an ex-governor with the best sense of ethics money can buy?
How about an ex-governor with the best sense of ethics money can buy?
What?! Where's the Huge Self-Sustaining Trillion Dollar Profit in That?
No. The *only* true source of stem cells is from embryos grown and killed so that Boomers can clutch at youth a few years longer.
No. The *only* true source of stem cells is from embryos grown and killed so that Boomers can clutch at youth a few years longer.
Get Religion on the Tired Word "Fundamentalist"
Predictably, the whole question reminds Joe Perez, Expert Astrologer, of himself.
For another Catholic take on the exhausted word "Fundamentalist", go here.
Predictably, the whole question reminds Joe Perez, Expert Astrologer, of himself.
For another Catholic take on the exhausted word "Fundamentalist", go here.
Dear Mr. Sungenis. You haven't said anything crazy for a week. Could you please say something loony?
Not a problem. How about the tough stand on the vital issue of cremation.
Then again, there's the burning question of tattoos.
Nah. By far the kookiest thing so far this week is "When I said 'we are all against torture,' I was referring to the inordinate and unauthorized use of torture."
CAI: Standing tall for torture, geocentrism, condemnation of tattoos and all the other vital features of True Catholic Faith.
Not a problem. How about the tough stand on the vital issue of cremation.
Then again, there's the burning question of tattoos.
Nah. By far the kookiest thing so far this week is "When I said 'we are all against torture,' I was referring to the inordinate and unauthorized use of torture."
CAI: Standing tall for torture, geocentrism, condemnation of tattoos and all the other vital features of True Catholic Faith.
Alan Keyes Labors to Lose my Respect
First, he stupidly reverses himself in order to suck up to the Infantilized Black Vote by calling for Slavery Reparations. Where's my Potato Famine Reparations from the British Crown? When do I get my stipend for property loss and harm to life and limb at Drogheda? What about the deep wells of poisoned racial memory I suffer each night as I lay down my head and hear "Irish need not apply" resound in my brain?
Now Keyes, in a bid to grab at some Red State Charlton Heston ballots, announces "he believes the U.S. Constitution grants properly trained private individuals the right to own and carry machine guns."
Lord knows *I'd* feel safer with every house, car, and airplane chock full of passengers ready to engage in a firefight with machine guns. What could make us safer against terrorist than a jittery citizenry ready to spray hundreds of rounds at anybody in a crowd who makes them feel suspicious? Pity the passengers on that flight with the Syrian musicians weren't free to exercise their second amendment rights.
Utterly bizarre.
First, he stupidly reverses himself in order to suck up to the Infantilized Black Vote by calling for Slavery Reparations. Where's my Potato Famine Reparations from the British Crown? When do I get my stipend for property loss and harm to life and limb at Drogheda? What about the deep wells of poisoned racial memory I suffer each night as I lay down my head and hear "Irish need not apply" resound in my brain?
Now Keyes, in a bid to grab at some Red State Charlton Heston ballots, announces "he believes the U.S. Constitution grants properly trained private individuals the right to own and carry machine guns."
Lord knows *I'd* feel safer with every house, car, and airplane chock full of passengers ready to engage in a firefight with machine guns. What could make us safer against terrorist than a jittery citizenry ready to spray hundreds of rounds at anybody in a crowd who makes them feel suspicious? Pity the passengers on that flight with the Syrian musicians weren't free to exercise their second amendment rights.
Utterly bizarre.
Various GOP Convention Stuff
Robert Novak on the typical politicking going on.
Rob Long on the GOP Evangelical cohort creeping out non-religious conservatives with their strangely erotic songs about Jesus. (Wait till Evangelicals get a load of Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Teresa. And wait till Long finds out about Ezekiel, Hosea, the Song of Songs, John, Paul, Bernard, and the whole long tradition of spirituality which sees our relationship with God in nuptial terms. Evangelicals, as is their custom, are rediscovering this willy-nilly after the long winter of Puritanism. Of course, they stand in grave danger of falling into all sorts of pagan, Jungian, therapeutic, feel good psychobabble. But the relationship between eros and agape is too strong to simply suppress forever.)
Anarchist Brownshirts on the March!
Andrew Sullivan cheerleads to stop the Party that presents the gravest present threat to The Only Thing in the Universe that Really Matters to Andrew.
Pat Sweeney covers the Convention from NYC.
Robert Novak on the typical politicking going on.
Rob Long on the GOP Evangelical cohort creeping out non-religious conservatives with their strangely erotic songs about Jesus. (Wait till Evangelicals get a load of Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Teresa. And wait till Long finds out about Ezekiel, Hosea, the Song of Songs, John, Paul, Bernard, and the whole long tradition of spirituality which sees our relationship with God in nuptial terms. Evangelicals, as is their custom, are rediscovering this willy-nilly after the long winter of Puritanism. Of course, they stand in grave danger of falling into all sorts of pagan, Jungian, therapeutic, feel good psychobabble. But the relationship between eros and agape is too strong to simply suppress forever.)
Anarchist Brownshirts on the March!
Andrew Sullivan cheerleads to stop the Party that presents the gravest present threat to The Only Thing in the Universe that Really Matters to Andrew.
Pat Sweeney covers the Convention from NYC.
Andrew Greeley: "At Least Clinton's Lies Didn't Kill Anyone."
Fr. Greeley, in his dotage, apparently has forgotten the words "safe, legal, and rare."
Fr. Greeley, in his dotage, apparently has forgotten the words "safe, legal, and rare."
I think it's futile to even *try* to resist this analogy
The doubly unfortunate part of this klunky illustration is that it comes very close to what Gene Roddenberry actually thought of religion. ("You are not One with the Body. You will be Absorbed. Landru will guide us.")
The doubly unfortunate part of this klunky illustration is that it comes very close to what Gene Roddenberry actually thought of religion. ("You are not One with the Body. You will be Absorbed. Landru will guide us.")
Fr. Todd Needs Your Book Recommendations for his High School Students
Unleash the Power of the Blog!
Unleash the Power of the Blog!
Man in Tiny Rowboat at Sea During Hurricane Warns that Continents are Sinking
Mario Dirksen: Smarter than the Holy Spirit
Mario Dirksen: Smarter than the Holy Spirit
Rod Dreher
and
Dale Price
on Conservative Catholics who prize Conservatism above Catholic social teaching.
Generally this is accomplished by adopting a Minimum Daily Adult Requirement approach to the Church's teaching ("How much do I *have* to submit to as dogma? I can ignore the rest, right?") It's kind of like a woman asking, on her wedding night, "How often do I have to kiss my husband?"
For many a libertarian-minded conservative, the phrase "common good" provokes the same sense of revolt and repugnance that "chastity" inflames in the Catholic liberal breast. Folks like this believe in confiscatory taxes so that we can have sufficient weaponry to destroy the world several times over, but not so that little girls can keep their teeth. That would be socialism and Big Government.
St. Thomas would have a difficult time comprehending American politics. Both Left and Right are, in their own ways, mad as march hares.
and
Dale Price
on Conservative Catholics who prize Conservatism above Catholic social teaching.
Generally this is accomplished by adopting a Minimum Daily Adult Requirement approach to the Church's teaching ("How much do I *have* to submit to as dogma? I can ignore the rest, right?") It's kind of like a woman asking, on her wedding night, "How often do I have to kiss my husband?"
For many a libertarian-minded conservative, the phrase "common good" provokes the same sense of revolt and repugnance that "chastity" inflames in the Catholic liberal breast. Folks like this believe in confiscatory taxes so that we can have sufficient weaponry to destroy the world several times over, but not so that little girls can keep their teeth. That would be socialism and Big Government.
St. Thomas would have a difficult time comprehending American politics. Both Left and Right are, in their own ways, mad as march hares.
Shea here. Just blogging some stuff that's piled up in the mail during my hiatus
First things first: Welcome Elliot! Cool news about the RCIA beginning! And thanks for doing the tour of duty on this hyear blog. I'll be back in the saddle full time on Wednesday!
First things first: Welcome Elliot! Cool news about the RCIA beginning! And thanks for doing the tour of duty on this hyear blog. I'll be back in the saddle full time on Wednesday!
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Okay, one last thing, I mean it, seriously, no more, for real...
A brief addendum to my thoughts on our commercially spartan ways
Now good night. I'm serious. No, no, I mean it this time...
A brief addendum to my thoughts on our commercially spartan ways
Now good night. I'm serious. No, no, I mean it this time...
Okay, folks, this is it -- don't get scared now
After two years of preparation, I've finally broadcast my decision to be Catholic. It's insanely long, so I won't post the entirety here. Have a look, send your prayers and thoughts. That does it for me today online. I'm cooked, and I still have no DSL at home.
After two years of preparation, I've finally broadcast my decision to be Catholic. It's insanely long, so I won't post the entirety here. Have a look, send your prayers and thoughts. That does it for me today online. I'm cooked, and I still have no DSL at home.
The best way
The following is perhaps the most important post/letter I've written to date. If you have any intention of reading it, I ask you to do so carefully, prayerfully and fully. Look before you leap, and read before you rant. Thank you. BTW, I apolgize for any weird formatting glitches and bumps that might appear in this; I wrote it on a Chinese-formatted PC and things can get a little tweaked in the Blogger transfer.] Many months ago (14 Dec 2003) on my earlier blog, Rocketagent, I wrote a short fairy tale about a man building a house for a King. Folks asked what the tale was about but I never explained – until now. The man is me and the King is God. So far so good.
The best way to hammer a nail is to hit it. The best way to try a meal is to eat it. The best way to say something is just to say it. So, let me say something: I want to become either Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox. This fact may baffle you; it may outrage you; it may in fact do nothing at all for you. Whatever your reaction, I assure you it has been the center of my life for just over two years now, and the source of much hidden anguish, confusion, joy, wonder, discovery, patience and prayer. For the past two years I have been wrestling with this decision and have finally found the opportunity to tell all my friends and family. ...
Raising ire where e'er I go
A short while back, in response to my post about telling folks here my interest in being Catholic, Tom R, a regular commenter here, said I shouldn't be too hard on my friends for being at least a little ill at ease as they watch a "Galatians 3:3" happen like a car crash in slow motion (to borrow Tom's own words). (For the Bible-less, Galatians 3:3 says, "Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?") He makes a good point -- my friends could be running me through with the Whore of Babylon lance, and I’m glad they’re not (yet) -- but I haven't given any of them a hard time, even though I find their paternalistic disdain offensive. What's really interesting, however, is not my response to my friends or theirs to me, but the compromise of (his own, if I'm not mistaken) Calvinist theology Tom inadvertently makes with his Gal 3:3 point.
It's simple: Unless Paul is being disingenuous, he's clearly describing people (in Gal 3:3) that began with -- ie., truly had -- the Holy Spirit (ie., were true believers) but now have fallen away (cf. Romans 8:9f.). You see the same thing in 1 Timothy 1:18-19 (CCC 162). Paul uses no qualifiers about the faith in question; it's not "fake faith"; it's not "so called faith"; it's not "non-saving faith". It's just faith. And the last time I checked, faith in Christ saves. So, again, unless Paul is just being melodramatic -- like whispering an inside joke behind his hand that only Calvinists would (eventually) get -- he plainly means these poor apostate gents really had faith, and thus really had salvation, and yet really lost it. There must be something of value -- grave, eternal, salvific value -- in Gal 3:3, otherwise Paul wouldn't have written it as a warning, and Tom wouldn't have cited it as an elegy for suckers like me. But the problem for Tom, and for Calvinist theology in general, is that admitting true believers can begin in the Spirit AND THEN FALL AWAY completely explodes the notion of eternal, irrevocable certainty ("assurance") as Calvinists tout it.
At this point, let me make it clear that the assurance of faith is not intrinsically heterodox[1], merely that the over-confident perception of an unshakable, indissoluble, unbreakable righteous standing before God is poppycock. Biblical assurance rests on the fidelity of God, not on the inability of us *ever* to renounce and desecrate His gift of salvation so horribly and resolutely that we lose its fruit, eternal life. In Christ we are *assured* God is gracious, that His means of grace in Christ are eternally unfailing, and that we absolutely and most truly have eternal life right now. This does not, however, mean we are assured we can never fall away for any reason. Just ask Dan Barker.
Now, I'm sure someone will object this Gal 3:3 case could merely be an instance of God having predestined people to some of the gifts of salvation without also giving them the gift of final perseverance (election to justification but not to glory, etc.). Also, God could have simply used these faux fall-aways merely as means to encourage and goad His true elect into perseverance (like driving safety videos meant to scare teens straight by showing dummies being ripped apart at high speeds). Well and good, those are fair retorts.
They're fair, but irrelevant. For, if the Gal 3:3 apostates (and myself, like a lethargic crashing car) never had the fullness of salvation in the first place, then neither they nor I had any basis for assurance. Moreover, if Paul somehow knew (or Tom somehow knows) folks like me never "really" had the gift of final election (almost certainly based on my present apostasy), then there's no reason to lament my falling away. My falling away at this time demonstrates I never actually was elected unto glory, and thus there is no reason to lament my falling away. In Calvinism there are no gray areas: there are only the truly saved and the truly damned. Accordingly, lamenting the latter is about as useless as worrying about the former.
To return to Tom's original point: his lamenting my apostasy now implies that I once indeed had the gift of salvation. But, according to plain Calvinist teaching, God's gifts are irrevocable. If I ever had it (salvation and its attendant assurance), I'll always have it. If I now obviously don't have it, then I never really had it. The upshot is that Tom's automotive elegy is well appreciated, but little more than a civil futility. If Tom (or any other Calvinist knows I'm damned now), then he should take pious satisfaction in the fact that that's the way God *wants* it. To lament my doom is to shudder against the inscrutable hardness of God. Calvin's God wants me in hell, and that is where Tom sees I'm heading. Gloriam ad fiat dei! The key difference between strongly predestinarian/ Augsutinian Catholics and Calvinists is that election for the latter means final election (to glory), whereas the former recognize the friability of assurance and salvation.
[1] It's too clunky to use here – there's actually an Orthodox canon[2] that you must be on Mt. Athos to use it – but the mondo cooler word for heterodox is "cacodox". Try using that in an insult sometime this week.
[2] Easy now, I'm just kidding. Fuzzy sarcasm again.
A short while back, in response to my post about telling folks here my interest in being Catholic, Tom R, a regular commenter here, said I shouldn't be too hard on my friends for being at least a little ill at ease as they watch a "Galatians 3:3" happen like a car crash in slow motion (to borrow Tom's own words). (For the Bible-less, Galatians 3:3 says, "Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?") He makes a good point -- my friends could be running me through with the Whore of Babylon lance, and I’m glad they’re not (yet) -- but I haven't given any of them a hard time, even though I find their paternalistic disdain offensive. What's really interesting, however, is not my response to my friends or theirs to me, but the compromise of (his own, if I'm not mistaken) Calvinist theology Tom inadvertently makes with his Gal 3:3 point.
It's simple: Unless Paul is being disingenuous, he's clearly describing people (in Gal 3:3) that began with -- ie., truly had -- the Holy Spirit (ie., were true believers) but now have fallen away (cf. Romans 8:9f.). You see the same thing in 1 Timothy 1:18-19 (CCC 162). Paul uses no qualifiers about the faith in question; it's not "fake faith"; it's not "so called faith"; it's not "non-saving faith". It's just faith. And the last time I checked, faith in Christ saves. So, again, unless Paul is just being melodramatic -- like whispering an inside joke behind his hand that only Calvinists would (eventually) get -- he plainly means these poor apostate gents really had faith, and thus really had salvation, and yet really lost it. There must be something of value -- grave, eternal, salvific value -- in Gal 3:3, otherwise Paul wouldn't have written it as a warning, and Tom wouldn't have cited it as an elegy for suckers like me. But the problem for Tom, and for Calvinist theology in general, is that admitting true believers can begin in the Spirit AND THEN FALL AWAY completely explodes the notion of eternal, irrevocable certainty ("assurance") as Calvinists tout it.
At this point, let me make it clear that the assurance of faith is not intrinsically heterodox[1], merely that the over-confident perception of an unshakable, indissoluble, unbreakable righteous standing before God is poppycock. Biblical assurance rests on the fidelity of God, not on the inability of us *ever* to renounce and desecrate His gift of salvation so horribly and resolutely that we lose its fruit, eternal life. In Christ we are *assured* God is gracious, that His means of grace in Christ are eternally unfailing, and that we absolutely and most truly have eternal life right now. This does not, however, mean we are assured we can never fall away for any reason. Just ask Dan Barker.
Now, I'm sure someone will object this Gal 3:3 case could merely be an instance of God having predestined people to some of the gifts of salvation without also giving them the gift of final perseverance (election to justification but not to glory, etc.). Also, God could have simply used these faux fall-aways merely as means to encourage and goad His true elect into perseverance (like driving safety videos meant to scare teens straight by showing dummies being ripped apart at high speeds). Well and good, those are fair retorts.
They're fair, but irrelevant. For, if the Gal 3:3 apostates (and myself, like a lethargic crashing car) never had the fullness of salvation in the first place, then neither they nor I had any basis for assurance. Moreover, if Paul somehow knew (or Tom somehow knows) folks like me never "really" had the gift of final election (almost certainly based on my present apostasy), then there's no reason to lament my falling away. My falling away at this time demonstrates I never actually was elected unto glory, and thus there is no reason to lament my falling away. In Calvinism there are no gray areas: there are only the truly saved and the truly damned. Accordingly, lamenting the latter is about as useless as worrying about the former.
To return to Tom's original point: his lamenting my apostasy now implies that I once indeed had the gift of salvation. But, according to plain Calvinist teaching, God's gifts are irrevocable. If I ever had it (salvation and its attendant assurance), I'll always have it. If I now obviously don't have it, then I never really had it. The upshot is that Tom's automotive elegy is well appreciated, but little more than a civil futility. If Tom (or any other Calvinist knows I'm damned now), then he should take pious satisfaction in the fact that that's the way God *wants* it. To lament my doom is to shudder against the inscrutable hardness of God. Calvin's God wants me in hell, and that is where Tom sees I'm heading. Gloriam ad fiat dei! The key difference between strongly predestinarian/ Augsutinian Catholics and Calvinists is that election for the latter means final election (to glory), whereas the former recognize the friability of assurance and salvation.
[1] It's too clunky to use here – there's actually an Orthodox canon[2] that you must be on Mt. Athos to use it – but the mondo cooler word for heterodox is "cacodox". Try using that in an insult sometime this week.
[2] Easy now, I'm just kidding. Fuzzy sarcasm again.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
The story so far
Trip to Alishan. Eating. Typhoon. Eating. Return. Reading. Sleep. Typhoon. No DSL connection. Reading. Cleaning. Eating. Shopping. Hanging with friends. No DSL. Sleep. Prayer. Cleaning. Eating. Shopping. Shipping. Reading. Hanging with friends. No DSL. Sleep. Prayer. Working out. Eating. Internet cafe. Present.
It's been much less of a hassle than I might expect having no Internet for a few days. I've come to realize (or re-realize, or re-re-realize) the Internet is just a tool, not a hobby (for me at least), and certainly not a necessity. And no healthy person stares at a screwdriver or hammer for hours a day. Even once Chungwa Telecom returns my DSL from the typhoon-battered grave, I hope to cut back on my tool-watching.
I regret I haven't much of "substance" to report right now. It's been a wonderful break before the fall semester starts. Saw *Count of Monte Cristo* (eh), *Big Fish* (hm) and *Ice Age* (wee, finally!). Reading _The Face_ by Daniel McNeill. The bulk of the shipping got done, but was way more expensive and difficult than I anticipated, so I held off on a few items.
I'm in a rather vacant state of mind these days. I'm thoughtful, but it's mostly running below the surface. There's much on my mind, and yet not much at all. I'm in a quiet mood, online and off. Pensive is close to it, but too negative. Dare I say comfortably numb?
A final thought, of substance: I spoke with my dad today on the phone (mark the calendar!) and I realized that we (USAmericans) raise our children for economic fitness the same way the Spartans raised kids for military advantage. I won't go into detail now, but I am increasingly aware of the US tendency to whittle life down to a young-adult-to-middle-age idealized median range. In addition to rubbing out the old end of the stick with the scouring pad of euthanasia and institutionalized benign neglect, we are pressing the upper limit of youth farther and farther back, robbing children of any protective barrier between true childishness and adulthood. It might be more accurate to say we are dragging children prematurely into the thickets of adulthood. Whatever the exact motion, I'm very inclined to believe this erasure of life's outer limits is meant for the good of the market. We are economic Spartans. Insular, focused, peculiar and prepped for battle.
Trip to Alishan. Eating. Typhoon. Eating. Return. Reading. Sleep. Typhoon. No DSL connection. Reading. Cleaning. Eating. Shopping. Hanging with friends. No DSL. Sleep. Prayer. Cleaning. Eating. Shopping. Shipping. Reading. Hanging with friends. No DSL. Sleep. Prayer. Working out. Eating. Internet cafe. Present.
It's been much less of a hassle than I might expect having no Internet for a few days. I've come to realize (or re-realize, or re-re-realize) the Internet is just a tool, not a hobby (for me at least), and certainly not a necessity. And no healthy person stares at a screwdriver or hammer for hours a day. Even once Chungwa Telecom returns my DSL from the typhoon-battered grave, I hope to cut back on my tool-watching.
I regret I haven't much of "substance" to report right now. It's been a wonderful break before the fall semester starts. Saw *Count of Monte Cristo* (eh), *Big Fish* (hm) and *Ice Age* (wee, finally!). Reading _The Face_ by Daniel McNeill. The bulk of the shipping got done, but was way more expensive and difficult than I anticipated, so I held off on a few items.
I'm in a rather vacant state of mind these days. I'm thoughtful, but it's mostly running below the surface. There's much on my mind, and yet not much at all. I'm in a quiet mood, online and off. Pensive is close to it, but too negative. Dare I say comfortably numb?
A final thought, of substance: I spoke with my dad today on the phone (mark the calendar!) and I realized that we (USAmericans) raise our children for economic fitness the same way the Spartans raised kids for military advantage. I won't go into detail now, but I am increasingly aware of the US tendency to whittle life down to a young-adult-to-middle-age idealized median range. In addition to rubbing out the old end of the stick with the scouring pad of euthanasia and institutionalized benign neglect, we are pressing the upper limit of youth farther and farther back, robbing children of any protective barrier between true childishness and adulthood. It might be more accurate to say we are dragging children prematurely into the thickets of adulthood. Whatever the exact motion, I'm very inclined to believe this erasure of life's outer limits is meant for the good of the market. We are economic Spartans. Insular, focused, peculiar and prepped for battle.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Before I drift away on a cloud of sleep dust...
I wanted to say thank you -- thank you, thank you, thank you all -- for your encouraging and inspiring comments to my recent post about the allure the Eucharist. One comment that especially caught my eye was a perhaps well meaning question about how significant my feelings and desires should be in my conversion process. It's a good point, worthy of a fuller reply than I'll give, but here goes.
First, despite the attractive simplicity of the evangelistic train about FACTS-FAITH-FEELINGS, I think we all should be honest that feelings have a valid and even prominent place in the life of faith. The human person is too well integrated to dissect pure reason from the rest of the self. Life is built on a symbiosis of reasoning and feeling, considering and encountering, analyzing and sympahtaizing. God knows this. Sometimes apparently erratic and mneaningless feelings can in fact, by God's grace, lead us to new facts. Just as easily new facts can lead us to new feelings. My journey lies somewhere amidst that complex symbiosis of shame, grace, hope, repentance, faith, joy and learning.
I am hardly suggesting feelings should overrule what reason shows. I am merely saying that when the gains of reason are gridlocked in aggresively, overwhelmingly claims and counterclaims, we must also be open to the internal moves of the Holy Spirit in, of all things, our hearts. Far be it from God to use only a single faculty of the person to draw us to Himself. His love is potent and vibrant, and that should send shivers through our minds, bodies and hearts. I believe in the Sovereign Lord. I believe He is sovereign over both my thoughts and my emotions. Hence I should heed feelings in their proper place as I seek to find my proper place in His sovereignty. "Delight yourself in the Lord and He shall give you the desires of your heart" (cf. Psalm 37).
Second, I agree feelings are suspect *if* they *predispose* a person's rational exploration. And I can assure you my feelings two years ago were pointed squarely and firmly against the Roman Catholic Church. I was a very satisfied Calvinist and only as I learned more about the Bible, the Faith in history and life in general did my feelings start to come around. Now they are simply a catalyst for further study. Wisdom can taste bitter; truth is not always pleasant. But I also suspect wisdom, as one of the chief gifts of God, should, from time to time, have an irresistible sweetness. Such is what my feelings are feeding on.
Good night, all.
I wanted to say thank you -- thank you, thank you, thank you all -- for your encouraging and inspiring comments to my recent post about the allure the Eucharist. One comment that especially caught my eye was a perhaps well meaning question about how significant my feelings and desires should be in my conversion process. It's a good point, worthy of a fuller reply than I'll give, but here goes.
First, despite the attractive simplicity of the evangelistic train about FACTS-FAITH-FEELINGS, I think we all should be honest that feelings have a valid and even prominent place in the life of faith. The human person is too well integrated to dissect pure reason from the rest of the self. Life is built on a symbiosis of reasoning and feeling, considering and encountering, analyzing and sympahtaizing. God knows this. Sometimes apparently erratic and mneaningless feelings can in fact, by God's grace, lead us to new facts. Just as easily new facts can lead us to new feelings. My journey lies somewhere amidst that complex symbiosis of shame, grace, hope, repentance, faith, joy and learning.
I am hardly suggesting feelings should overrule what reason shows. I am merely saying that when the gains of reason are gridlocked in aggresively, overwhelmingly claims and counterclaims, we must also be open to the internal moves of the Holy Spirit in, of all things, our hearts. Far be it from God to use only a single faculty of the person to draw us to Himself. His love is potent and vibrant, and that should send shivers through our minds, bodies and hearts. I believe in the Sovereign Lord. I believe He is sovereign over both my thoughts and my emotions. Hence I should heed feelings in their proper place as I seek to find my proper place in His sovereignty. "Delight yourself in the Lord and He shall give you the desires of your heart" (cf. Psalm 37).
Second, I agree feelings are suspect *if* they *predispose* a person's rational exploration. And I can assure you my feelings two years ago were pointed squarely and firmly against the Roman Catholic Church. I was a very satisfied Calvinist and only as I learned more about the Bible, the Faith in history and life in general did my feelings start to come around. Now they are simply a catalyst for further study. Wisdom can taste bitter; truth is not always pleasant. But I also suspect wisdom, as one of the chief gifts of God, should, from time to time, have an irresistible sweetness. Such is what my feelings are feeding on.
Good night, all.
The shipping news
FCA: Your one-stop source for my life, KTV, big fish, pot, journalism, porn, and the like!
FCA: Your one-stop source for my life, KTV, big fish, pot, journalism, porn, and the like!
Gone Till Monday
Shea here. I'm going to be visiting our Great Neighbor to the North, Canada, starting in a couple of hours. For any readers in Alberta (which is like saying "any readers in Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska and Wyoming") I will be speaking tomorrow at St. John the Baptist Cathedral. McLennan, Alberta. Topics: Making Senses Out of Scripture, This is My Body, and The Many-Sided Gospel. Contact: Gary Fisher. Phone: 1-780-523-5237. E-mail: fisher.g@hfcrd.ab.ca Website: www.holyfamilycyberhigh.ca.
I go there today, speak tomorrow, return on Friday to be picked up at the airport by my wife, whereupon I shall be whisked home to drop off luggage, pick up kidlets, and go to loverly Washington Park for another weekend of camping with friends.
So there will be radio silence after this note. In parting, let me leave you with these thoughts from Five Iron Frenzy:
Toodles!
Shea here. I'm going to be visiting our Great Neighbor to the North, Canada, starting in a couple of hours. For any readers in Alberta (which is like saying "any readers in Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska and Wyoming") I will be speaking tomorrow at St. John the Baptist Cathedral. McLennan, Alberta. Topics: Making Senses Out of Scripture, This is My Body, and The Many-Sided Gospel. Contact: Gary Fisher. Phone: 1-780-523-5237. E-mail: fisher.g@hfcrd.ab.ca Website: www.holyfamilycyberhigh.ca.
I go there today, speak tomorrow, return on Friday to be picked up at the airport by my wife, whereupon I shall be whisked home to drop off luggage, pick up kidlets, and go to loverly Washington Park for another weekend of camping with friends.
So there will be radio silence after this note. In parting, let me leave you with these thoughts from Five Iron Frenzy:
Welcome to Canada, it's the Maple Leaf State.
Canada, oh Canada it's great!
The people are nice and they speak French too.
If you don't like it, man, you sniff glue.
The Great White North, their kilts are plaid,
Hosers take off, it's not half bad.
I want to be where yaks can run free,
Where Royal Mounties can arrest me.
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today,
Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait.
They've got trees, and mooses, and sled dogs,
Lots of lumber, and lumberjacks, and logs!
We all think it's kind of a drag,
That you have to go there to get milk in a bag.
They say "eh?" instead of "what?" or "duh?"
That's the mighty power of Canada.
I want to be where lemmings run into the sea,
Where the marmosets can attack me.
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today,
Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait.
Please, please, explain to me,
How this all has come to be,
We forgot to mention something here.
Did we say that William Shatner is a native citizen?
And Slurpees made from venison,
That's deer.
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today,
Canada, oh, Canada, I Sil Vous Plait.
Toodles!
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
I'm not the only one
One of my favorite bloggers, Screaming Writer, recently posted some thoughts on the unpredictability of writing and really got me thinking. The following is me thinking:
The unpredictability of narrative. It's uncanny. I've had it happen to me more than once. Inexplicably, a story moves out from under you with a single key stroke and you're left just as blind to the ending as each of the characters. If I discuss a story I'm writing, people may ask me, "What happens next?" and I can only answer, "I don't know." Or they might ask me, "What's that character like?" and I can only answer, "I'm still finding out." It sounds absurd, but there it is. Writers write about characters. They don't merely chracterize, or give names and a face to, bare passing thoughts. As any student of philosophy knows, even the best ideas are tearfully boring unless they are either communicated well in writing or communicated well by a living, dynamic teacher. Stories are not primarily about ideas; they are, like life itself, about people.
A writer is much more passive than many people realize. ...
[continued over at FCA
One of my favorite bloggers, Screaming Writer, recently posted some thoughts on the unpredictability of writing and really got me thinking. The following is me thinking:
The unpredictability of narrative. It's uncanny. I've had it happen to me more than once. Inexplicably, a story moves out from under you with a single key stroke and you're left just as blind to the ending as each of the characters. If I discuss a story I'm writing, people may ask me, "What happens next?" and I can only answer, "I don't know." Or they might ask me, "What's that character like?" and I can only answer, "I'm still finding out." It sounds absurd, but there it is. Writers write about characters. They don't merely chracterize, or give names and a face to, bare passing thoughts. As any student of philosophy knows, even the best ideas are tearfully boring unless they are either communicated well in writing or communicated well by a living, dynamic teacher. Stories are not primarily about ideas; they are, like life itself, about people.
A writer is much more passive than many people realize. ...
[continued over at FCA
Speaking of blogger vacations
(Yes, it's another long, introspective, narrative post from Elliot "Windbag" Bougis. Get the TV Guide, right? ;) )
Strike while the iron is hot
And when the days are slow. This is the week. It is the fall break before classes begin. This is the last vacation of note I'll have until January or February for Chinese New Year. We're being hit by a rather large storm system, so not only was my trip to Alishan a wash [rimshot!] but also classes and most work places are off tomorrow. There are no sick days by whim here; vacation is a federal affair. Literally. It takes the government issuing a national day-off to get people and most students not to come to work or school.
With only a few days before my schedule is once again in fuller swing, I am devoting this week to shipping all the things that need shipping: my laptop, my old roommate's stowaway goods, a couple books, some remote controls, and, well, we'll see what else I can dig up. I would try to do it all tomorrow, but I'll ride the emergency holiday and, God willing, send it all Thursday. There maaaay even be a spurt of blogging, but don't count your pennies yet.
As for Alishan. Although it wasn't too much more than a really long bus ride, punctuated by frequent rest stops, a smidgeon of hiking, an obligatory night of KTV, random delightful conversations with students (and one very unnerving question from one), the usual awkward silences from across the language barrier, a short BB gun battle, and, of course, hefty helpings of Taiwanese food -- although it was, according to the Offical Rulebook of Vacations and Leisure, a disappointment, I had a great time. It was cold and wet and unpredictable, and I loved it all. I even used the weekend to teach a few folks some smirking English irony: "At least it's not hot."
Life in Taiwan is like living in water. ...
[continued over at FCA]
(Yes, it's another long, introspective, narrative post from Elliot "Windbag" Bougis. Get the TV Guide, right? ;) )
Strike while the iron is hot
And when the days are slow. This is the week. It is the fall break before classes begin. This is the last vacation of note I'll have until January or February for Chinese New Year. We're being hit by a rather large storm system, so not only was my trip to Alishan a wash [rimshot!] but also classes and most work places are off tomorrow. There are no sick days by whim here; vacation is a federal affair. Literally. It takes the government issuing a national day-off to get people and most students not to come to work or school.
With only a few days before my schedule is once again in fuller swing, I am devoting this week to shipping all the things that need shipping: my laptop, my old roommate's stowaway goods, a couple books, some remote controls, and, well, we'll see what else I can dig up. I would try to do it all tomorrow, but I'll ride the emergency holiday and, God willing, send it all Thursday. There maaaay even be a spurt of blogging, but don't count your pennies yet.
As for Alishan. Although it wasn't too much more than a really long bus ride, punctuated by frequent rest stops, a smidgeon of hiking, an obligatory night of KTV, random delightful conversations with students (and one very unnerving question from one), the usual awkward silences from across the language barrier, a short BB gun battle, and, of course, hefty helpings of Taiwanese food -- although it was, according to the Offical Rulebook of Vacations and Leisure, a disappointment, I had a great time. It was cold and wet and unpredictable, and I loved it all. I even used the weekend to teach a few folks some smirking English irony: "At least it's not hot."
Life in Taiwan is like living in water. ...
[continued over at FCA]
Back to vacation!
I'm gonna go ride the Edmonds Ferry with my guys! A perfect rainy day adventure!
Ciao!
I'm gonna go ride the Edmonds Ferry with my guys! A perfect rainy day adventure!
Ciao!
Mark Steyn on the Imploding John Kerry Campaign
Kerry's *sole* major campaign point (aside from "I'm not George Bush") is "I'm a War Hero". He foolishly invoked the Iron Law of Political Karma by having his people insist on asking Bush "What did you you do in the war, Daddy?" Now, a great many people who served with him are asking "What did *you* do in the war?"
Unfortunate for Kerry, in politics, sheer likability matters. Kennedy won in 1960, in great part, because he was a more appealing person than Nixon, particularly visually. Sorry, but that's simply a fact of politics. Kerry has very little going for him in the likability dept. He also has very little going for him in the Accomplishments Dept beyond pledging eternal fealty to Planned Parenthood. Even his own base doesn't much like him. There are still Dean enthusiasts. Nobody is a Kerry *enthusiast*. There are Kerry "supporters" much as there are "supports" for large ugly urban bridges. People doing the drudge work for a party who gave them this superior, snobby, duplicitous and stupid man as their last best hope against the hated Bush. They "support" him as troops at Stalingrad "supported" their generals--because it was support them or be destroyed, not because they were motivated by a burning love of their guy.
And meanwhile, Team Kerry has utterly dropped the ball on the one and only thing they've had to say since Day One: He's a War Hero. When a bunch of guys who know the opportunistic snob--a guy who showed up, camera in hand, to collect some dubious medals and take pictures of himself (in case it paid to be a war hero when seeking election) and then returned home, finger to the wind, to denounce them as baby killers when sentiment turned against the war--try to state their side of things, the only thing Team Kerry can think to do is mobilize the Dowd/Oliphant Smear Squad and try to shout them down as latrine cleaners from Green Acres. The sheer, transparent, opportunistic contempt for the service of the *other* 2 million guys in Vietnam shines through more than anything the Swift Boat Vets could possibly document.
And now this:
What? You thought I was talking about you guys (who represent a huge threat to my campaign)? Buddies! I wasn't talking about you! You're great! Lemme buy you a drink! No sir. I didn't mean *you* at all. I meant all the rest of the veterans. I meant Mark Shea's brothers were baby killers and war criminals. I meant all those other trailer park Red State Yahoos I hold in contempt. Why? Cuz they haven't written a book about me and besides who are they anyway? But you? You're my special friends, my Band of Brothers! So let's just forget about this silly book you've written.
"I was talking about all the rest of the veterans.
So, I'm now predicting a Kerry rout. His only talking point is disintegrating and nothing Chris Matthews can do will shout that down. It's gonna be a massacre this November and the Dems have only themselves to thank. How long till they realize that Bush is not as stupid as they are?
Kerry's *sole* major campaign point (aside from "I'm not George Bush") is "I'm a War Hero". He foolishly invoked the Iron Law of Political Karma by having his people insist on asking Bush "What did you you do in the war, Daddy?" Now, a great many people who served with him are asking "What did *you* do in the war?"
Unfortunate for Kerry, in politics, sheer likability matters. Kennedy won in 1960, in great part, because he was a more appealing person than Nixon, particularly visually. Sorry, but that's simply a fact of politics. Kerry has very little going for him in the likability dept. He also has very little going for him in the Accomplishments Dept beyond pledging eternal fealty to Planned Parenthood. Even his own base doesn't much like him. There are still Dean enthusiasts. Nobody is a Kerry *enthusiast*. There are Kerry "supporters" much as there are "supports" for large ugly urban bridges. People doing the drudge work for a party who gave them this superior, snobby, duplicitous and stupid man as their last best hope against the hated Bush. They "support" him as troops at Stalingrad "supported" their generals--because it was support them or be destroyed, not because they were motivated by a burning love of their guy.
And meanwhile, Team Kerry has utterly dropped the ball on the one and only thing they've had to say since Day One: He's a War Hero. When a bunch of guys who know the opportunistic snob--a guy who showed up, camera in hand, to collect some dubious medals and take pictures of himself (in case it paid to be a war hero when seeking election) and then returned home, finger to the wind, to denounce them as baby killers when sentiment turned against the war--try to state their side of things, the only thing Team Kerry can think to do is mobilize the Dowd/Oliphant Smear Squad and try to shout them down as latrine cleaners from Green Acres. The sheer, transparent, opportunistic contempt for the service of the *other* 2 million guys in Vietnam shines through more than anything the Swift Boat Vets could possibly document.
And now this:
KERRY: "Why are all these swift boat guys opposed to me?"
BRANT: "You should know what you said when you came back, the impact it had on the young sailors and how it was disrespectful of our guys that were killed over there."
[Brant had two men killed in battle.]
KERRY: "When we dedicated swift boat one in '92, I said to all the swift guys that I wasn't talking about the swifties, I was talking about all the rest of the veterans."
What? You thought I was talking about you guys (who represent a huge threat to my campaign)? Buddies! I wasn't talking about you! You're great! Lemme buy you a drink! No sir. I didn't mean *you* at all. I meant all the rest of the veterans. I meant Mark Shea's brothers were baby killers and war criminals. I meant all those other trailer park Red State Yahoos I hold in contempt. Why? Cuz they haven't written a book about me and besides who are they anyway? But you? You're my special friends, my Band of Brothers! So let's just forget about this silly book you've written.
"I was talking about all the rest of the veterans.
So, I'm now predicting a Kerry rout. His only talking point is disintegrating and nothing Chris Matthews can do will shout that down. It's gonna be a massacre this November and the Dems have only themselves to thank. How long till they realize that Bush is not as stupid as they are?
Well, no. We haven't actually found anything *useful* from embryonic stem cells...
But there'sa boatload of money to be made Promise for Sufferers once we gin up the Media Machine to get people screaming for sacrificial embryos and keep them ignorant of cord blood as a source persuade the public to overcome their superstitious fears of Scientific Progress.
But there's
Pavel Chichikov's Photography will be Exhibited!
For those of you in the DC area with a love for fine photography, this is your chance to check out the work of Pavel Chichikov, a friend of this blog and this blogger.
An exhibit of Pavel's photos can be seen at Mount St. Mary's University, Emmitsburg MD, September 1-19, 2004.
He's a fine poet, a fine photographer, a fine artist and a fine Christian man. Check his work out!
For those of you in the DC area with a love for fine photography, this is your chance to check out the work of Pavel Chichikov, a friend of this blog and this blogger.
An exhibit of Pavel's photos can be seen at Mount St. Mary's University, Emmitsburg MD, September 1-19, 2004.
He's a fine poet, a fine photographer, a fine artist and a fine Christian man. Check his work out!
I'm not really back
I just had a little spare time yesterday and wanted to get a few things posted that had been burning holes in my in box. Also, I wanted to get the Hudson business off my chest. Some of my readers have mistaken what I wrote for some sort of defense of Hudson. It wasn't. It was a defense of the credal statement "We believe in the forgiveness of sins"--a much-neglected point of Catholic teaching on both the Left and the Right. I don't know Hudson hardly at all and hold no brief for him personally. I've written for Crisis a couple of times (which involves my interaction with Brian Saint-Paul, the editor, not with Hudson). And my name is apparently in his Rolodex under "Media types" since he once asked me to sit in on a Bushie White House phone call shortly after Roe v. Wade Day and about two months before the invasion of Iraq--evidently in the hope that my blog would be a useful mouthpiece of Bushie policy, a role in which I have badly failed and which has apparently resulted in that being the *only* time I sat in on a Bushie White House phone call.
Beyond that, I don't know the guy except from what I read by and about him. But the guy could have been, oh, I don't know, the editor of the National Catholic Reporter and I would have written the same thing. The point is not who committed the sin. The point is not *what* sin was committed. The point is that "We believe in the forgiveness of sins" has to have some practical, real-world application if it to actually mean anything at all. Some Progressive Catholic[TM] critics of what I wrote have betrayed their essentially partisan view of forgiveness by gloating over the forgiven sins of a loathed Right-Winger and calling a defense of such a penitent mere partisanship. That's because they view the Faith as simply politics by other means. More's the pity for them. But what bothers me more is when Faithful Conservative Catholics[TM] who allegedly grasp something of the supernatural nature of the Faith tell me that "the behavior described is depraved in a way that should be expected to have public repercussions beyond the ones previously suffered".
This, being translated, means
It provides a certain... symmetry? reassuring sense of underlying unity? pervasive sense of dread for one's own safety in the Catholic community? all of the above? to know that, when it comes to fear and loathing of any practical application of the Church's teaching on Mercy, many Progressive Catholics[TM] and Faithful Conservative Catholics[TM] live in happy concord. How good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity.
I just had a little spare time yesterday and wanted to get a few things posted that had been burning holes in my in box. Also, I wanted to get the Hudson business off my chest. Some of my readers have mistaken what I wrote for some sort of defense of Hudson. It wasn't. It was a defense of the credal statement "We believe in the forgiveness of sins"--a much-neglected point of Catholic teaching on both the Left and the Right. I don't know Hudson hardly at all and hold no brief for him personally. I've written for Crisis a couple of times (which involves my interaction with Brian Saint-Paul, the editor, not with Hudson). And my name is apparently in his Rolodex under "Media types" since he once asked me to sit in on a Bushie White House phone call shortly after Roe v. Wade Day and about two months before the invasion of Iraq--evidently in the hope that my blog would be a useful mouthpiece of Bushie policy, a role in which I have badly failed and which has apparently resulted in that being the *only* time I sat in on a Bushie White House phone call.
Beyond that, I don't know the guy except from what I read by and about him. But the guy could have been, oh, I don't know, the editor of the National Catholic Reporter and I would have written the same thing. The point is not who committed the sin. The point is not *what* sin was committed. The point is that "We believe in the forgiveness of sins" has to have some practical, real-world application if it to actually mean anything at all. Some Progressive Catholic[TM] critics of what I wrote have betrayed their essentially partisan view of forgiveness by gloating over the forgiven sins of a loathed Right-Winger and calling a defense of such a penitent mere partisanship. That's because they view the Faith as simply politics by other means. More's the pity for them. But what bothers me more is when Faithful Conservative Catholics[TM] who allegedly grasp something of the supernatural nature of the Faith tell me that "the behavior described is depraved in a way that should be expected to have public repercussions beyond the ones previously suffered".
This, being translated, means
We believe in the forgiveness of sins--except where the behavior described is depraved in a way that should be expected to have public repercussions beyond the ones previously suffered. Then we have the right to go on dredging up that sin ad infinitum, even if it's been repented and those affected by it are reconciled with the sinner.
We believe in Our Right to Know about salacious deeds that don't concern us. We believe in Internet Tribunals, salvation by law, kicking ass, and taking names. World without end. Amen.
It provides a certain... symmetry? reassuring sense of underlying unity? pervasive sense of dread for one's own safety in the Catholic community? all of the above? to know that, when it comes to fear and loathing of any practical application of the Church's teaching on Mercy, many Progressive Catholics[TM] and Faithful Conservative Catholics[TM] live in happy concord. How good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together in unity.
Monday, August 23, 2004
Steve Wood badly needs your help
The Family Life Center got absolutely pasted by the hurricane.
The Family Life Center got absolutely pasted by the hurricane.
Dear Friend,
The eye of Hurricane Charley passed directly over the Family Life Center, my home, and the homes of our staff members. The damage is severe. The needs are great. The crisis is unparalleled.
The national weather service gave us no warning whatsoever. Our local weatherman gave us only a few minutes of warning - not enough time to do anything except to take cover as best we could.
Because of the devastating hurricane damage, I'm dealing with multiple crises every day from morning until night. It'll be weeks - perhaps months - before things get back to normal. Please sit down right now and give this EMERGENCY APPEAL your prayerful attention.
Our greatest emergency needs
I'll tell you the whole shocking story in a moment. But first let me tell you what we most desperately need:
1. Prayers. Please pray for the fastest possible recovery from Hurricane Charley.
2. Please send an emergency check or money order to our street address (Family Life Center, Dept. 0804 HCE, 22226 Westchester Blvd., Port Charlotte, FL 33952). Your gift will help me repair the devastating damage and get back on my feet. Unfortunately our ability to accept online donations is temporarily crippled because of hurricane damage. But our financial needs are enormous. We expect to be able to receive emergency donations within 48 hours, I hope, but for now we can only accept donations by mail or by FedEx.
Now let me tell you off the top of my head what happened. I tremble just to think about the unbelievable power of a Category Four hurricane.
For a few days the National Hurricane Center had said Tampa was ground zero for Hurricane Charley. They said it would track up the Gulf of Mexico, which means we might have had Category One winds here. In southwest Florida Category One winds aren't a big deal.
The hurricane hit Naples at about 75 miles per hour. When it got up to Ft. Myers it hit Category Two with that warm water in the Gulf of Mexico. The National Weather Service, even when the hurricane was at Ft. Myers, said it was still on course to hammer Tampa.
If it weren't for our local weather stations we would have been hit without any warning whatsoever. That's because the National Weather Service continued tracking it to Tampa. But the local weatherman said, "I'm not speaking for the National Weather Service, but I've distinctly seen a move here in the last 40 minutes to the right, which means the storm is now heading for Punta Gorda/Port Charlotte." And I'm thinking, I know where that is.
Before the hurricane turned on us and got ugly, the kids were excited. My two boys were on their skateboards, trying to catch the wind with large garbage bags. The girls were filming the weather with a video camera. Everything seemed fun.
But in just 70 minutes the storm turned away from Tampa toward Punta Gorda/Port Charlotte and escalated from Category Two to Category Four. This is over a period of 70 minutes. It quickly turned into a calamity.
When I heard the eye was at Fisherman's Village in Punta Gorda, which is just across the river from Port Charlotte where my house and office are located, I knew we were in grave danger.
When the winds came to our house there was nowhere to go at that point. By the time we knew what was happening, the hurricane had switched course and doubled in strength. The winds whipped our house at about 140 miles per hour. I'm kind of shaking just telling you about this.
Haunting sound: hurricane rips tiles right off my roof
My daughter Anne said, "Dad - in our family room the sliding glass door is buckling." I took one look at it because when I was in high school I had one of those blow out about five feet from me. This one blew. All I did was scream "GO!!!," and the kids dove and I dove and it blew. I don't know if you can imagine broken glass and 140 mile per hour winds coming in your family room. The glass traveled to two rooms. And then plants and everything were coming in our family room at 140 miles per hour.
I put the kids in the hallway where there are no windows and put mattresses over their heads. We knew we were in serious trouble. As the wind howled and moaned, the rosaries came out. I surveyed what was happening because if our roof went I was concerned that things would collapse on us. When the wind first hit us it tore 90% of the tiles right off of the roof. I could hear them ripping off. It was just a haunting sound with the big sections of tile being torn off. I kept looking to see if there was plywood because if there was no plywood it meant our house was going to go.
And then it went from 140 miles per hour to deathly still. Relatively sunny.
Eye of storm passes over us: I was scared to death!
The eye passed right over us. I knew what it was, and I was scared to death. I was really scared to death. I could barely talk but I knew I had to give reports to the family so I kind of sucked it up and did it in a coach's fashion. "You know, we're halfway through. We made it halfway." But the worst was still to come.
About four to five minutes later the wind clocked 180 miles per hour, slamming the other side of our house. The window blew out in the bedroom of the hallway where we were and I was afraid the door was going to go. But it held. And probably within an hour it was over.
Our patio cage collapsed. My chain link fence blew down. I had an old canoe next to my house filled with hundreds of pounds of water. And that canoe is nowhere to be seen. It's gone. It's just flat out gone. It probably flew to the next county.
Roof collapses, causing my kids to freak out
The garden shed blew away completely. We don't even know where it is. Windows blown out. Glass everywhere. Plants in our house. And then, of course, you have wave upon wave of torrential rain. That's the really sickening part because I have no shingles on my roof, and rain is pouring through all the ceilings throughout our house. Every bedroom leaked, some considerably.
By bedtime the ceiling in one of my kid's bedrooms collapsed. That kind of freaked them out. They didn't know what else was going to come down. We just put buckets everywhere, but the bottom line is we knew our house was sustaining tens of thousands of dollars in damage because water was just pouring in. No ridge cap, no shingles. Ninety percent of the shingles on one side of the house were gone. Thirty percent on the other side. So our house was completely vulnerable to the weather.
The wind was just blowing the curtains everywhere. It buckled the doors.
I waited for the storm to pass and began to assess the damage. But we couldn't do anything with the water because it kept coming down and we had no roof. That's pretty bad. We went over to my daughter Stephanie's condo, and she had a hole in her roof and a window blown out. Her bedroom's destroyed. There was nothing we could do and we left there.
Heartbreaking damage to the Family Life Center
Then my daughters Sarah and Stephanie and I got to the Family Life Center about 10:00 p.m. to check out the damage. I had to drive over and under live power lines to get there. Around trees. It was doomsday. A tree had landed on Stephanie's car. There were trees in our driveway. Trees everywhere. A dumpster blown over.
We went inside our radio studio with a flashlight. The damage was heartbreaking.
The Family Life Center had that special soundproofing foam on the ceiling for our radio studio. It was all hanging down. All of our equipment was soaking wet. The control boards and everything. I wanted to see the damage to the roof, but I couldn't find it. I kept shining my light up at the ceiling, and it wouldn't reflect off. I was trying to find what was wrong, and I finally realized there was no ceiling or roof. I was looking at the sky!
Part of my library of 30 years was in the Family Life Center. Stephanie and I got my library out of there, and Sarah got our master tapes and all of our master radio shows. This is at 11 or 12 at night with a candle. We had one of the candles from mass at our little chapel.
The worse part was at night. If you could call it a night's sleep. Over 50% of my roof is leaking. And about 1:30 in the morning we hear part of the ceiling crashing in on my patio. Then about every hour or two another part of the ceiling crashes inside the house. That was pretty hard to take. Our walls are still filled with water. It's an unmitigated catastrophe.
It's just like somebody threw a couple of sticks of dynamite in there and it exploded upward and fell down.
Every day is a crisis: Mosquitoes have free access to my home
The whole roof needs to be replaced. It needs to be shingled. That's just to fix the roof. The inside of the house - well, I'll talk about that later.
We have a five-bedroom house for our family. All our carpeting is gone. I've yanked all the carpeting out of the house. Had to yank a whole bunch of ceilings and insulation out. Bottom line: There are parts of our house where you can see the outside. I still don't know what we're going to do. Obviously, if we can see sky, the bugs outside can see us and can come inside our home. It's August and there's water everywhere. We can't keep the bees, mosquitoes, and other bugs out of the house.
We desperately need to fix our office and our home, but all the local work crews are tied up and overwhelmed with demands.
That was the first couple of days. I don't even know what we're going to do now. We didn't have water, electricity. We didn't have anything. We had to drive over power lines hanging down. My phone pole, I'm looking at right now, is sheared off about five feet off the ground. It's just gone. The wires are laying back in a bunch of bushes. Power is very, very, very slowly being restored. We got water on the third day, I guess. I never thought I would be so grateful for a cold shower. You usually complain. Last night it was kind of funny. I was tired. I was dead tired. So I got in the shower and I kept waiting for the water to get warm and it wouldn't get warm. So we have water, which is a blessing. We can't drink it yet, but it's O.K. for washing.
Our bookkeeper from the Family Life Center showed up the day after the hurricane. Bless her heart, because this takes navigating. There are no traffic lights in our city. Zero.
Employees of Family Life Center are in desperate need
In any case, our bookkeeper came, and I said, "We don't have a computer or anything." She said, "Yes, but the employees are going to need money."
I had to go up to Venice and get a cell phone. It's my only contact. I went to Wal-Mart and got necessities and tools.
You know, the credit card company called. I don't think they've called me since I got the card. And they told me I had hit my spending limit. I told them I'm in Charlotte County dealing with the crisis following Hurricane Charley. The credit card representative said he understood. And that was it. My spending level was unusually high.
Children grab a hammer, head up to the roof
I'm running from one crisis to another trying to figure things out. And we may need to relocate our family. I don't even know if we're going to be able to stay in our home. I have a friend who may come down this weekend and kind of assess what the deal is here. It could take a few months to get this settled. And then what do you do?
I'll tell you, though, one thing that has been great. Usually the kids sit around saying things like, "let's go to the mall" or "let's go to the movies." To see them grab a hammer and head up to the roof is character building stuff. It's inspiring.
A lot of people are asking what our needs are. Obviously our needs are financial because we're going to have to hire people to do repair work on our office and home. Unfortunately the insurance company deductibles are high. The insurance companies learned their lesson after Hurricane Andrew and tightened their policies to protect their assets from natural disasters.
Unparalleled crisis
In this unparalleled crisis, could I appeal to you to give a bigger gift than you've ever given before? I'm praying that you'll stretch yourself and make a gift much larger than you've ever given - if possible. Please give what the Lord leads you to give. I guarantee I'll put every dollar you donate to the best possible use.
In dealing with this extraordinary emergency, the bills are piling up like you wouldn't believe. I appeal for your help before I drown in a sea of red ink.
The Family Life Center will be back stronger than ever, but it'll take a while. I'm determined to rebuild. I'm depending on your generous response to this crisis appeal to get back on our feet. I have no one to turn to but people like you. Please take out your checkbook right now and make out the most generous check you can. Then mail it today.
May God bless you and your loved ones, in His own best way.
Yours in Christ,
Steve Wood
P.S. Remember, your gift is 100 percent tax deductible. Make out your check or money order to the Family Life Center and rush it to our street address: Family Life Center, Dept. 0804HCE, 22226 Westchester Blvd., Port Charlotte, FL 33952. Please join me in praying for the success of this crisis appeal. Please rush your emergency gift into the mail right away.
P.P.S. Please forward this e-mail to concerned friends and loved ones and pray that the Lord will inspire them to help out in this emergency. And please make out your check and send it today.
Extremely Belated Remarks on the L'Affaire Hudson
Here's Catholic Exchange on the Deal deal.
For myself, I think the Reporter covered itself in ignominy. Period.
I suppose, from a purely journalistic perspective, untrammeled by all that Catholic crap about the Sacrament of Confession, teaching against the sin of detraction, teaching on charity, the centrality of the family and all that sort of thing, a reporter could evoke the all-excusing genie of the "Public's Right to Know" as a "reason" for this contemptible hit piece written with no other object in mind than to destroy somebody whose politics are inimical to the editorial posture of the National "Catholic" Reporter.
But the National "Catholic" Reporter is supposed to be, well, Catholic. Indeed, to hear the Reporter tell it, they are far more deeply Catholic than any of those Awful Right-Wingers who practice the politics of personal destruction. But viewed from a Catholic rather than a purely journalistic perspective, I can see no justification whatsoever for the piece they ran. None.
Here is a man who committed a grave sin, confessed it, paid for it with his job as was perfectly fitting, was reconciled with his family, made restitution to the victim--and was forgiven (that is, if we believe *AT ALL* in what we profess every time we say the Creed concerning the "forgiveness of sins"). Yet instead of incarnating the mercy of Jesus to him and his wife and children, these alleged Catholics have seized on a forgiven sin as a tool to destroy him. They believe in a Jesus who looked at the adulterous woman and said, "You've been cozy with the Sadducees for a long time now and I've alway loathed you. I've been looking for something I could use to crush you like a bug and now, thanks to your own sin, I've found it! C'mon boys! Let's GET 'ER!"
The message is loud and clear: in the Catholic Church of the Reporter sin will *never* be forgiven. You will go on paying and paying and paying for your sins forever. There is no refuge in the Body of Christ. No mercy. No remission of sins. The Reporter will see to it that perfect strangers who have no need to know your business will be clucking their tongues about your private sins and passing judgment on you.
That such vindictive bullshit justifies itself as "Catholic journalism" is, in its own way, as contemptible as "pastoral oversight" that overlooks the sins of predator priests. In both cases, the Guardians of the Faith are guarding against the wrong things. Bad bishops have been guarding against children who might bother impenitent priests and impenitent bishops. Now the Reporter is guarding against a penitent man experiencing the mercy of God. It would be one thing if (like Ono Ekeh) Hudson had been lobbying to ignore the Church's teaching with puff pieces in Crisis asking "What's so Bad about Adultery?" as Ekeh used Church resources to do puff pieces for John "Abortion is My Main Sacrament" Kerry. But he didn't. Nor did his work with Crisis or the Bushies amount to anything other than using his charisms and attempting to work out his salvation with fear and trembling like the rest of us. I disagreed with some of Hudson's politics. But the idea of seizing on his forgiven sins--sins which concern nobody but his family, himself, his victim, and his God--and using them as a weapon against him *after* he has made his peace with all those who were truly involved... this is as satanic a violation of the sacrament of confession as a predator priest is of the sacrament of Holy Orders. Hudson didn't claim to be a saint. He claimed to be a forgiven sinner. He simply tried to articulate, to the best of his ability, what the Church said and to live out, to the best of his ability, his political views. By their action, the Reporter has made the whole Church a less safe place for any of us to seek the mercy of Christ.
So what good was accomplished by the Reporter's despicable act of detraction? Not one damn thing that I can think of. Nobody was "protected" from anything by it (as, for instance, the exposure of an undisciplined predator priest would do). A wife was made to suffer again. Some children were forced to endure humiliation and shame. A few gossips and members of the Amorphous Catholic Star Chamber of the Internet were thrown fresh meat. The sacrament of Reconcilation was, once again, shown to be applicable to Me and Those Like Me but not to one of those Awful People Over There, a "Catholic" journalist got thirty pieces of silver from the NY Times for making clear that "we believe in the forgiveness of sins" is one of those airy theological abstractions with no connection to real life and, oh yes, a minor political skirmish in the great battle for the Presidency of the United States was won by the Reporter. Big whoop.
The Left, like the Right, is quite capable of showing that for it too, the most scandalous and repulsive teaching in the whole corpus Catholic moral doctrine is the shocking affirmation, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." The editorial staff of the Reporter manifestly believes in no such thing. They believe in exposure, destruction, shame and humiliation of a penitent member of the Body of Christ if that member holds political views with which they do not agree. Under the right circumstance, they would do the same thing to the adulterous woman of John 8 or the sinful woman who washed Jesus' feet. And if a trifle like the sacrament of reconciliation, the sinner's act of restitution, the needs of Hudson's family and his victim and Hudson's own repentance and penance get in the way of that, then more's the pity. Eggs must be broken to make the omelette of a Kerry Presidency and to see the establishment of the Correct Kind of Church here in America.
Despicable.
Here's Catholic Exchange on the Deal deal.
For myself, I think the Reporter covered itself in ignominy. Period.
I suppose, from a purely journalistic perspective, untrammeled by all that Catholic crap about the Sacrament of Confession, teaching against the sin of detraction, teaching on charity, the centrality of the family and all that sort of thing, a reporter could evoke the all-excusing genie of the "Public's Right to Know" as a "reason" for this contemptible hit piece written with no other object in mind than to destroy somebody whose politics are inimical to the editorial posture of the National "Catholic" Reporter.
But the National "Catholic" Reporter is supposed to be, well, Catholic. Indeed, to hear the Reporter tell it, they are far more deeply Catholic than any of those Awful Right-Wingers who practice the politics of personal destruction. But viewed from a Catholic rather than a purely journalistic perspective, I can see no justification whatsoever for the piece they ran. None.
Here is a man who committed a grave sin, confessed it, paid for it with his job as was perfectly fitting, was reconciled with his family, made restitution to the victim--and was forgiven (that is, if we believe *AT ALL* in what we profess every time we say the Creed concerning the "forgiveness of sins"). Yet instead of incarnating the mercy of Jesus to him and his wife and children, these alleged Catholics have seized on a forgiven sin as a tool to destroy him. They believe in a Jesus who looked at the adulterous woman and said, "You've been cozy with the Sadducees for a long time now and I've alway loathed you. I've been looking for something I could use to crush you like a bug and now, thanks to your own sin, I've found it! C'mon boys! Let's GET 'ER!"
The message is loud and clear: in the Catholic Church of the Reporter sin will *never* be forgiven. You will go on paying and paying and paying for your sins forever. There is no refuge in the Body of Christ. No mercy. No remission of sins. The Reporter will see to it that perfect strangers who have no need to know your business will be clucking their tongues about your private sins and passing judgment on you.
That such vindictive bullshit justifies itself as "Catholic journalism" is, in its own way, as contemptible as "pastoral oversight" that overlooks the sins of predator priests. In both cases, the Guardians of the Faith are guarding against the wrong things. Bad bishops have been guarding against children who might bother impenitent priests and impenitent bishops. Now the Reporter is guarding against a penitent man experiencing the mercy of God. It would be one thing if (like Ono Ekeh) Hudson had been lobbying to ignore the Church's teaching with puff pieces in Crisis asking "What's so Bad about Adultery?" as Ekeh used Church resources to do puff pieces for John "Abortion is My Main Sacrament" Kerry. But he didn't. Nor did his work with Crisis or the Bushies amount to anything other than using his charisms and attempting to work out his salvation with fear and trembling like the rest of us. I disagreed with some of Hudson's politics. But the idea of seizing on his forgiven sins--sins which concern nobody but his family, himself, his victim, and his God--and using them as a weapon against him *after* he has made his peace with all those who were truly involved... this is as satanic a violation of the sacrament of confession as a predator priest is of the sacrament of Holy Orders. Hudson didn't claim to be a saint. He claimed to be a forgiven sinner. He simply tried to articulate, to the best of his ability, what the Church said and to live out, to the best of his ability, his political views. By their action, the Reporter has made the whole Church a less safe place for any of us to seek the mercy of Christ.
So what good was accomplished by the Reporter's despicable act of detraction? Not one damn thing that I can think of. Nobody was "protected" from anything by it (as, for instance, the exposure of an undisciplined predator priest would do). A wife was made to suffer again. Some children were forced to endure humiliation and shame. A few gossips and members of the Amorphous Catholic Star Chamber of the Internet were thrown fresh meat. The sacrament of Reconcilation was, once again, shown to be applicable to Me and Those Like Me but not to one of those Awful People Over There, a "Catholic" journalist got thirty pieces of silver from the NY Times for making clear that "we believe in the forgiveness of sins" is one of those airy theological abstractions with no connection to real life and, oh yes, a minor political skirmish in the great battle for the Presidency of the United States was won by the Reporter. Big whoop.
The Left, like the Right, is quite capable of showing that for it too, the most scandalous and repulsive teaching in the whole corpus Catholic moral doctrine is the shocking affirmation, "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." The editorial staff of the Reporter manifestly believes in no such thing. They believe in exposure, destruction, shame and humiliation of a penitent member of the Body of Christ if that member holds political views with which they do not agree. Under the right circumstance, they would do the same thing to the adulterous woman of John 8 or the sinful woman who washed Jesus' feet. And if a trifle like the sacrament of reconciliation, the sinner's act of restitution, the needs of Hudson's family and his victim and Hudson's own repentance and penance get in the way of that, then more's the pity. Eggs must be broken to make the omelette of a Kerry Presidency and to see the establishment of the Correct Kind of Church here in America.
Despicable.
And to continue my descent into utter geekness...
...this really cool launch page for MYST IV!
Alas, my (1998) Top o'the line 450 Mhz computer can't run the game. But it is better that such a game exist, even if I cannot play it, than that it not exist and I be happy in an inferior universe.
...this really cool launch page for MYST IV!
Alas, my (1998) Top o'the line 450 Mhz computer can't run the game. But it is better that such a game exist, even if I cannot play it, than that it not exist and I be happy in an inferior universe.
From our "Not Sure If This is a Real Quote But, If Not, It Should Be" Department
When asked if he agreed with Father [Andrew] Greeley's ((D) Chicago) assessment of Cardinal Ratzinger's statement, Bishop Bishop Fabian Bruskewitz, D.D., S.T.D. conveyed through his Vicar General, Monsignor Timothy J. Thorburn, J.C.L., the following assertion:
When asked if he agreed with Father [Andrew] Greeley's ((D) Chicago) assessment of Cardinal Ratzinger's statement, Bishop Bishop Fabian Bruskewitz, D.D., S.T.D. conveyed through his Vicar General, Monsignor Timothy J. Thorburn, J.C.L., the following assertion:
"No Catholics of any sense will take any pastoral advice from Father Andrew Greeley, a superficial writer who appears to spend his time promoting himself to various elements in the secular media.
"It is often said by priests and people in his native region of Chicago that he long ago published all his thoughts, and in the last decades has been publishing his fantasies.
"In his article in the New York Daily news, fostering a pro-abortion vote ('so long as it is not merely for that...'), he seems to strongly indicate not only a tragic indifference to abortion, which the Second Vatican Council called 'an abominable crime,' but a shallowness of mind akin to a harlequin.
"In his self-important buffoonery, he has appointed himself as instructor to Bishops and to Catholics nationwide. In doing this, he merely announces to every thoughtful Catholic that his views are totally self serving and undeserving of any serious consideration.
"Father Greeley even appointed himself to be an interpreter and spokesman for Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, to the great amusement of all who really know the Cardinal.
"My advice to any Catholics who would ask me about that Greeley article would be to give it the same view as you would the words and acts of a clown."
The Internet: Where Anonymous Literary Geniuses Put Messages in Bottles to Amuse the World
Just got this:
Just got this:
Dear Beloved,
I am Vivien Grimhelm Wormtongue, The only daughter of late Counsellor GrÃma Wormtongue of the Kingdom of Rohan.
My father was Chief Counsellor [equivalent to Prime Minister] to late lamented king Théoden of Rohan. In his position my father altogether legally and correctly acquired significant assets throughout Rohan in order to protect the Kingdom from enemy forces within and without.
In the course of lamentable events succeeding, my father was illegally deprived of office and expelled from the Kingdom.
Before this he had with foresight already entirely legally deposited gold worth S$42,000,000 with one of the Africa leading Banks in Cote d' Ivoire of which I will let you know if you identify your interest.
While in exile in the north he was assaulted and murdered by a band of northern Orcs.
My family was obliged to seek refuge in northern Dunland among some of our sympathisers.
My father left to me all documents necessary the retrievement aforesaid from the Bank. However, in the current political circumstances my solicitor believes it unwise for me to attempt to make the trip from Dunland to Cote d' ivoire, and has recommended that I seek a trustworthy foreign business partner into whose account this amount worth of gold could be tranferred into. This appears to be the best option as we are unable to open an account in Dunland.
Therefore I am seeking your trustworthy assistance and cooperation.
You will provide information about your account that will enable a deposit to be made in your name.
I will contact the Bank and inform them that the money is to be placed into your account.
Upon completion of the transaction your share of the proceeds will be 15% net following deduction of all transfer fees, that is US$6,300,000.
If the transaction goes well I will also look forward to maintaining you as a profitable business partner for future ventures.
Therefore I will need your phone and fax numbers to enable me send them to the bank immediately as well as the account number of which this fund will be transfer into.
It goes without saying that I can expect your complete cooperation in keeping this matter confidential prefatory to completion as I awaits your urgent response.
Please reach me at my email address:vichelm2000@yahoo.fr
Best regards,
Miss Vivien Grimhelm Wormtongue
Sunday, August 22, 2004
Hey there, hi there, ho there!
And goodbye. Yes, again, the blogsitter for the blogger on vacation is on vacation.
Summer classes finished this past Friday, and Monday morning (aye, in only a few sleep-deprived hours!) I'm headed by bus to Mount Alishan for a couple days with my fellow Viator High teachers (http://www.vtsh.tc.edu.tw/).
the link's on the fritz,
I have no good clue why 'tis,
but give it a shot
[A haiku, just for you!]
Zaijian!
And goodbye. Yes, again, the blogsitter for the blogger on vacation is on vacation.
Summer classes finished this past Friday, and Monday morning (aye, in only a few sleep-deprived hours!) I'm headed by bus to Mount Alishan for a couple days with my fellow Viator High teachers (http://www.vtsh.tc.edu.tw/).
the link's on the fritz,
I have no good clue why 'tis,
but give it a shot
[A haiku, just for you!]
Zaijian!
Stop me if ya heard it before...
I've been telling more and more folks here in Taichung about my serious interest in the Catholic Church and, aside from a few initial looks of puzzlement, all I've gotten so far is that "it's okay since, I guess, it's fits your taste, you know, your style of worshipping God." All I can do is bite my tongue and wince when I hear this. It's probably the most politely insulting thing I've heard in ages. The classic bells-and-incense argument warmed-over and euphemized in functionally relativist Evangelicalese: "You're just being lured in by the beauty, by the novelty of the exotic. It'll wear off. All worship is the same, if your heart is in it."
Never mind that I might actually be seeking the truth of the matter. Never mind that I do not (or at least certainly not always) find the ornate worship of the Catholic and Orthodox liturgies irresistibly appealing. Never mind that my worship whims might actually have to be molded anew based on the truth of Christ's Church, rather than vice versa. Never mind that God, and not merely my arbitrary tastes, may be the designer of holy worship. Never mind all that. I'm just out on my own aesthetic path, that's all.
Increasingly, the biggest draw for me to Catholicism (and yes, Orthodoxy) is not the maze of chutes and ladders about extrinsic and intrinsic epistemic certainty, collective authortiy versus sectarian subjectivism, and all the rest -- it's more and more about worshipping God the way He desires. Anthropologically speaking, there is nothing much lacking in Protestant (especially high Protestant) liturgy to draw people into a pious state of mind. If the goal of worship is merely to ennoble the human spirit and gather believers together with the shared presence of God the Holy Spirit, I guess all's fair in love and ecumenism.
However, objectively speaking, and according to the will of God in Christ, I am every day losing my grip on the worth of any ecclesial worship apart from the Eucharist. The Eucharist, and the Mass generally, is not superior for some subtle aethetic and psychosocial reasons about encoutering the numinous. Its spirtual value -- its inestimable worth in the eyes of God even apart from the response of us wee mortals -- is the propitiatory work of Christ recalled to God for the benefit of man at every Eucharist. The Eucharist actually saves the world; it does not, as Calvin argued, merely encourage and sanctify Christians. As I've said before, I want a Church that is bigger than me, a Church that conveys an air of only barely containing the worship God has given it. Such I see in Orthodoxy and Catholicism.
I said this -- the orthos of doxa -- is "increasingly" my draw to the Church, but actually, ironically, it was my very first draw over two years ago when this crazy ride began in earnest. Once I understood the offer, and the power, of the Eucharist, I felt a deep weakness to resist that invitation, even if it meant "settling for" Catholicism. I guess its numinous attraction got lost in the shuffle of the Internet blog wars.
I've been telling more and more folks here in Taichung about my serious interest in the Catholic Church and, aside from a few initial looks of puzzlement, all I've gotten so far is that "it's okay since, I guess, it's fits your taste, you know, your style of worshipping God." All I can do is bite my tongue and wince when I hear this. It's probably the most politely insulting thing I've heard in ages. The classic bells-and-incense argument warmed-over and euphemized in functionally relativist Evangelicalese: "You're just being lured in by the beauty, by the novelty of the exotic. It'll wear off. All worship is the same, if your heart is in it."
Never mind that I might actually be seeking the truth of the matter. Never mind that I do not (or at least certainly not always) find the ornate worship of the Catholic and Orthodox liturgies irresistibly appealing. Never mind that my worship whims might actually have to be molded anew based on the truth of Christ's Church, rather than vice versa. Never mind that God, and not merely my arbitrary tastes, may be the designer of holy worship. Never mind all that. I'm just out on my own aesthetic path, that's all.
Increasingly, the biggest draw for me to Catholicism (and yes, Orthodoxy) is not the maze of chutes and ladders about extrinsic and intrinsic epistemic certainty, collective authortiy versus sectarian subjectivism, and all the rest -- it's more and more about worshipping God the way He desires. Anthropologically speaking, there is nothing much lacking in Protestant (especially high Protestant) liturgy to draw people into a pious state of mind. If the goal of worship is merely to ennoble the human spirit and gather believers together with the shared presence of God the Holy Spirit, I guess all's fair in love and ecumenism.
However, objectively speaking, and according to the will of God in Christ, I am every day losing my grip on the worth of any ecclesial worship apart from the Eucharist. The Eucharist, and the Mass generally, is not superior for some subtle aethetic and psychosocial reasons about encoutering the numinous. Its spirtual value -- its inestimable worth in the eyes of God even apart from the response of us wee mortals -- is the propitiatory work of Christ recalled to God for the benefit of man at every Eucharist. The Eucharist actually saves the world; it does not, as Calvin argued, merely encourage and sanctify Christians. As I've said before, I want a Church that is bigger than me, a Church that conveys an air of only barely containing the worship God has given it. Such I see in Orthodoxy and Catholicism.
I said this -- the orthos of doxa -- is "increasingly" my draw to the Church, but actually, ironically, it was my very first draw over two years ago when this crazy ride began in earnest. Once I understood the offer, and the power, of the Eucharist, I felt a deep weakness to resist that invitation, even if it meant "settling for" Catholicism. I guess its numinous attraction got lost in the shuffle of the Internet blog wars.
The power of kitsch compels you! The power of kitsch compels you!
*The Exorcist* was a truly spiritual film, a popular apologetic for the supernatural. This scintillating adaptation hits all the high points of the classic’s ghoulish vision.
Unfortunately, it looks like its prequel sequel whatchamacallit needs a good exorcising (and better filmmaking, to boot).
*The Exorcist* was a truly spiritual film, a popular apologetic for the supernatural. This scintillating adaptation hits all the high points of the classic’s ghoulish vision.
Unfortunately, it looks like its prequel sequel whatchamacallit needs a good exorcising (and better filmmaking, to boot).
About the best a post-Christian world can do, I suppose
This interview would be hilarious if it weren't so sad.
Mitchell's chief moral axiom: "As long as it’s not porn, it must be sacred. Right? Right!?"
Mitchell's ancillary axioms: "Sex is for marriage so let’s make a movie full of sex outside of marriage. Er, I mean, sex is for marriage so let’s make marriage full of gay sex."
The zinger of the article: “These gay men will have sex at the drop of a hat.”
Finally, note well the perennial liberal anti-Catholic catch-22 (at the end of the article). "The Church says the body and sex are sacred, so let’s enjoy them boundlessly! But hey, guess what! The Church also says the body and sex are sinful, so let’s enjoy them boundlessly! Either way, the Church is draconian, medieval, gnostic and outmoded, so let's enjoy sex boundlessly!"
("A Movie Full of Sex, With Nothing Simulated About It" -- NY Times by DINITIA SMITH -- Published: August 19, 2004)
This interview would be hilarious if it weren't so sad.
Mitchell's chief moral axiom: "As long as it’s not porn, it must be sacred. Right? Right!?"
Mitchell's ancillary axioms: "Sex is for marriage so let’s make a movie full of sex outside of marriage. Er, I mean, sex is for marriage so let’s make marriage full of gay sex."
The zinger of the article: “These gay men will have sex at the drop of a hat.”
Finally, note well the perennial liberal anti-Catholic catch-22 (at the end of the article). "The Church says the body and sex are sacred, so let’s enjoy them boundlessly! But hey, guess what! The Church also says the body and sex are sinful, so let’s enjoy them boundlessly! Either way, the Church is draconian, medieval, gnostic and outmoded, so let's enjoy sex boundlessly!"
("A Movie Full of Sex, With Nothing Simulated About It" -- NY Times by DINITIA SMITH -- Published: August 19, 2004)
Greeley has fit of moral righteousness over pervasive greed
His Sheafulness had this to say from his remote North Pacific island resort:
His Sheafulness had this to say from his remote North Pacific island resort:
Duly noted. Greed is a deadly sin. Was it really necessary to do the sotto voce "Lust isn't that big a deal" subtext in a country that sacrifices 1.5 million babies to it each year? The whole thing read like a tract for the Democratic party instead of a serious warning against the sin of greed.
Well, it's me babe, yeah yeah yeah, it's meeeee
Minnesota town reluctanly immortalizes (and profits from) scrawny singing kid that made it big.
(APB for all music fans: Is it valid to call Bob Dylan the proto-Beck? The lyrics, the look, the eclectic sound, the non-mainstream appeal, etc.)
Minnesota town reluctanly immortalizes (and profits from) scrawny singing kid that made it big.
(APB for all music fans: Is it valid to call Bob Dylan the proto-Beck? The lyrics, the look, the eclectic sound, the non-mainstream appeal, etc.)
Bush Campaign Cracks Down on Renegade Kerry Smear Tactics!
Vatican jealous beyond measure. Press confused why Vatican is not involved.
Vatican jealous beyond measure. Press confused why Vatican is not involved.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
But before I leave you...
I leave you with three large newsfeeds!
Oddles of Googles
ZENIT Before?
Vox Americae
OK, nite, y'all. :)
I leave you with three large newsfeeds!
Oddles of Googles
ZENIT Before?
Vox Americae
OK, nite, y'all. :)
New Strong Bad Email!
(Not, IMO, as fall-on-the-floor-and-nearly-wet-myself funny as last week's SBemail, but it's good, especially the eggs at the end.)
(Not, IMO, as fall-on-the-floor-and-nearly-wet-myself funny as last week's SBemail, but it's good, especially the eggs at the end.)
Today was a hard day for Teacher Elliot
Some history. Last night, Monday night, believe it or not, I saw *Collateral* for the third time. (I plan to see it one more time this Wednesday before its run ends in Taiwan.) It was as engrossing as the first two times, only this time even more enjoyable like hearing an old friend tell the same good jokes. You know what’s coming and that’s what keeps you listening. At any rate, I had a very nice night and looked forward to a good night of sleep before a short day of teaching.
But here’s the problem. I’m a creature of habit. At times, in fact, I'm pathologically habitual. This morning was a case of pathological habit. For nine months last year I had it hardwired into my brain that I had class at 1:10 PM, after lunch. “Don’t be late! You have class after lunch on Tuesday!” That was one of my weekly mantras that helped me keep five different teaching positions and a handful of church-related duties in order. And so, as a pathological creature of habit, every week of summer classes this past month, I have had to check the impulsive impression I had class after lunch on Tuesday. You see where this is going.
After the movie, just before I got home, I was seized by a sudden, inexplicable bout of melancholy. Everything became gray and cold and slow. I blogged a little while to ward off the faceless sadness, but eventually got to bed. I was looking forward only to a good night of sleep and a very good, much needed time with God the next morning. Well, I’m partially happy to say, I go the former: I had a very good night of sleep. I’m not at all happy to say, however, that I completely missed the latter: I had no time with God this morning.
Why? Because the phone rang. It was Janet. Not good.
“Elliot?” Janet asked.
“Yes,” I answered, still wiping sleep out of my eyes.
“Where are you? You have class!”
“Oh, yeah, right. I’m sorry. I’ll be there.” Pathological habits. It was Tuesday. It wasn’t after lunch yet. But this summer is not last year. I jumped up and threw on some clothes. I moved quickly, but not frantically. It was much too late to make a desperate dash for the school. I may as well take my time and let the last-minute sub teach the class he was already teaching for me.
It was a tough ride to work. The lights worked against me. I was still somber from the night before and now even more upset for being late. I had just gotten past the culture shock scandal at the end of last week. And now, of course, I plunge my face into the fire again. “Hi, I’m an idiot. Please fire me.”
The idiot reached school and schlepped his way upstairs to his desk. There I sat. Somber, heavy, slow, numb. Why? Shame, I guess. Life, more likely. Whatever the reason, I was very reserved and edgy all day. As Ileft the office, I saw Ryan, a co-worker, was studying Chinese.
“You’re studying Chinese there, Ryan, learning characters?” I asked.
“Yeah, “ he said with a grin. He’s a very nice guy.
All I could think to say was, “Good.” That’s good, Ryan.
And then it dawned on me. Ryan, who is not a Christian, cares very much about learning Chinese. He’s good at it and it’s a good thing to know in Taiwan. He cares about Chinese, but, as I’ve observed, has virtually no interest whatsoever in Christianity. It is a peculiar religious view of the world he was raised in and which he’s since grown out of. He has not time for it.
Frankly, despite my faith in Christ as more important than Chinese )or anything else), I don’t blame Ryan for his apathy. Why spend your time on what, by all modern appearances, looks like a waste of time. Life is short. Christianity is old.
My epiphany, if I may call it that, is that evangelism is not just about explicating a message – “the Gospel” – but about sharing, and sahring in, truly Good News. The Gospel is good news, but news is not just news. News is not just information. The news is an objective matrix of events and tensions that effect our lives. Look at the damage done in my home-state, Florida. It’s news to me, but it’s news to my friends and family there. News is alive, and the Gospel is the News of Life. “This just in! God Shows Incalculable Mercy to Fallen World!” “Extra! Extra! Savior of the World Rises from Dead!” “Hear ye, hear ye! God Loves You in Christ!”
As I left the office I realized that Ryan, and the world in fact, does not need sharper apologetics (by themselves at least). I realized, or perhaps just recalled, that there is a tremendously pastoral and existential side of apologetics. People must not only see that the faith is true, but also what this means for their lives. The non-believing world does not need to hear simply that the Faith is true. People must also hear how the Truth is true. Important as it is, and as ably as Blogmaster Shea does this, neither do I mean that we must explain *why* the truth is true. We need to clarify, in a practical, flesh-on-bone way, *how* the Faith is God’s truth. In other words, the Faith must not only be shown to be true, but must be shown to be alive.
Now, realize this is not another insipid call to "relevance," according to which all the details, the lights, the music, the vocabulary, etc. is tailored to make people feel at home. It is more about a conscientious effort to show what living the living truth means for a people living the truth of dying. It’s unfortunate that many readers may see this is a well worn platitude – “preach the gospel with words if necessary” – but it’s a real, if inchoate, breakthrough for me.
Some history. Last night, Monday night, believe it or not, I saw *Collateral* for the third time. (I plan to see it one more time this Wednesday before its run ends in Taiwan.) It was as engrossing as the first two times, only this time even more enjoyable like hearing an old friend tell the same good jokes. You know what’s coming and that’s what keeps you listening. At any rate, I had a very nice night and looked forward to a good night of sleep before a short day of teaching.
But here’s the problem. I’m a creature of habit. At times, in fact, I'm pathologically habitual. This morning was a case of pathological habit. For nine months last year I had it hardwired into my brain that I had class at 1:10 PM, after lunch. “Don’t be late! You have class after lunch on Tuesday!” That was one of my weekly mantras that helped me keep five different teaching positions and a handful of church-related duties in order. And so, as a pathological creature of habit, every week of summer classes this past month, I have had to check the impulsive impression I had class after lunch on Tuesday. You see where this is going.
After the movie, just before I got home, I was seized by a sudden, inexplicable bout of melancholy. Everything became gray and cold and slow. I blogged a little while to ward off the faceless sadness, but eventually got to bed. I was looking forward only to a good night of sleep and a very good, much needed time with God the next morning. Well, I’m partially happy to say, I go the former: I had a very good night of sleep. I’m not at all happy to say, however, that I completely missed the latter: I had no time with God this morning.
Why? Because the phone rang. It was Janet. Not good.
“Elliot?” Janet asked.
“Yes,” I answered, still wiping sleep out of my eyes.
“Where are you? You have class!”
“Oh, yeah, right. I’m sorry. I’ll be there.” Pathological habits. It was Tuesday. It wasn’t after lunch yet. But this summer is not last year. I jumped up and threw on some clothes. I moved quickly, but not frantically. It was much too late to make a desperate dash for the school. I may as well take my time and let the last-minute sub teach the class he was already teaching for me.
It was a tough ride to work. The lights worked against me. I was still somber from the night before and now even more upset for being late. I had just gotten past the culture shock scandal at the end of last week. And now, of course, I plunge my face into the fire again. “Hi, I’m an idiot. Please fire me.”
The idiot reached school and schlepped his way upstairs to his desk. There I sat. Somber, heavy, slow, numb. Why? Shame, I guess. Life, more likely. Whatever the reason, I was very reserved and edgy all day. As Ileft the office, I saw Ryan, a co-worker, was studying Chinese.
“You’re studying Chinese there, Ryan, learning characters?” I asked.
“Yeah, “ he said with a grin. He’s a very nice guy.
All I could think to say was, “Good.” That’s good, Ryan.
And then it dawned on me. Ryan, who is not a Christian, cares very much about learning Chinese. He’s good at it and it’s a good thing to know in Taiwan. He cares about Chinese, but, as I’ve observed, has virtually no interest whatsoever in Christianity. It is a peculiar religious view of the world he was raised in and which he’s since grown out of. He has not time for it.
Frankly, despite my faith in Christ as more important than Chinese )or anything else), I don’t blame Ryan for his apathy. Why spend your time on what, by all modern appearances, looks like a waste of time. Life is short. Christianity is old.
My epiphany, if I may call it that, is that evangelism is not just about explicating a message – “the Gospel” – but about sharing, and sahring in, truly Good News. The Gospel is good news, but news is not just news. News is not just information. The news is an objective matrix of events and tensions that effect our lives. Look at the damage done in my home-state, Florida. It’s news to me, but it’s news to my friends and family there. News is alive, and the Gospel is the News of Life. “This just in! God Shows Incalculable Mercy to Fallen World!” “Extra! Extra! Savior of the World Rises from Dead!” “Hear ye, hear ye! God Loves You in Christ!”
As I left the office I realized that Ryan, and the world in fact, does not need sharper apologetics (by themselves at least). I realized, or perhaps just recalled, that there is a tremendously pastoral and existential side of apologetics. People must not only see that the faith is true, but also what this means for their lives. The non-believing world does not need to hear simply that the Faith is true. People must also hear how the Truth is true. Important as it is, and as ably as Blogmaster Shea does this, neither do I mean that we must explain *why* the truth is true. We need to clarify, in a practical, flesh-on-bone way, *how* the Faith is God’s truth. In other words, the Faith must not only be shown to be true, but must be shown to be alive.
Now, realize this is not another insipid call to "relevance," according to which all the details, the lights, the music, the vocabulary, etc. is tailored to make people feel at home. It is more about a conscientious effort to show what living the living truth means for a people living the truth of dying. It’s unfortunate that many readers may see this is a well worn platitude – “preach the gospel with words if necessary” – but it’s a real, if inchoate, breakthrough for me.
Oh, Taiwan...
Sometimes I love you, and sometimes I can't draw my knife fast enough.
Take yesterday for example. Seriously, take yesterday! >RIMSHOT!< I got done with work by noon or so and was home with about 45 minutes to spare before my private tutee, Well (not a typo), showed up. It was well past time to ship my old roommate Erick's gigantor box o' stuff to him in the USA. This box nearly had to claim residency it was so large.
Seriously, there's no better way aside from a doctor’s latex ensheathed hand in the darker, tenderer areas of your person to assess your hernias and would-be hernias. I hefted this limbless monster to the elevator and then braced myself for the long haul two blocks south to the taxi hangout. There was no way I was going to heave it the four or so blocks east to the post office. (Oh, that hallowed post office, of it more ye shall presently hear!)
I made my sweaty, grunting way down Da En Street like some thin, white Atlas. Luckily for me, there appeared to be no one at the taxi depot. Lunch time. Splendid. I kept sweating. Soon enough a driver emerged and was ever so kind as to point at his taxi. Far be it form him to let me wait for him at the corner with my human-sized box. No. That’s fine. I’ll lug this hernia-generator over to you, Mr Driver Man.
In the taxi. To the post office. In the post office. I wedged the box on the shelf, completely blocking the teller window. The lady eventually got off the phone, squinted skeptically at my box, came out to me with a red ribbon tape measure, sized up the box and chirped, “Too big.”
“Too big,” I said, numbly.
“You have to make it smaller boxes.”
“Ooookay…. well,” I plowed on, knowing I also wanted to ship a couple books to friends in the USA, “can I ship these.”
“No,” she answered.
“No?”
“We have no envelopes.”
“I can’t ship books?” I was incredulous, too tired to be furious, too outraged to be apathetic.
“No. You can’t ship books to the USA.”
“You mean, no one in Taiwan can send my books to the USA.”
“Go to 7-11,” she replied.
“7-11?” I knew you could pay your bills and stave off the munchies at convenient stores, but ship books home – when the post office can’t?
I had hit the icy brick wall of a foreign culture. There was nothing left to discuss. My “Western” logic was useless. The post office, didn’t you know, doesn’t have envelopes. So off to 7-11 I went. It was right on the corner, next to the post office. (I smelled a racket.) In I trundled and lowered the box onto the floor like it was the Ark of the Covenant. We’d come this far.
“Hi there,” I said to the cashier, fearing the worst, “I would like to send these books home.”
“You can’t,” he answered, with the faintest hint of a confused smile.
“I can’t. The lady at the post office just told me–”
“Go to DHL,” he interjected.
“DHL? Where is DHL?”
“Call this number,” he said. All the while he was holding a pristine DHL envelope in his left hand, waiting to hold at least one of my books. But no. I was face-flat against that cold brick wall. Foreigner. At least I had stopped sweating.
And then I stepped outside, carrying the Ark on my warm moist shoulder. I was sweating again. I caught another taxi home, asked the door man for DHL’s address, learned I need to take my passport there to mail anything and returned the box and books to exactly where they had been before. Taiwan, 1. Foreigner, 0, and counting.
Like I said, sometimes I just can’t draw my knife on Taiwan fast enough. Taiwan got me that time. Home looked very good all of a sudden. And then Is topped sweating. Well came over. We talked about his weekend (he was in a piano contest) and the Olympics (Taiwan beat Australia 3-0). We played a little 3-D Pinball for a break. I told him the story of the Bible all the way to Joseph and the subsequent enslavement of the Israelites in Egypt. His mother came over and my day was wide open.
Feeling a little jaded about my life in Taiwan, but still wanting to get some chores done, I headed out, to the streets, into the evening. And I once again experienced the twin faces of Taiwan. Only hours before I had been ready to blow my stack in the post office. But then, as if in an enchanted urban forest, I was aglow with contentment. I was getting around town. I was getting tings done. I was wending my way through this culture, using the Mandarin I know and fitting in as best as I know how. Taiwan wounds and Taiwan heals.
The summit of our reunion came when I got my bike chain tightened. I happened to see a mechanic shop and turned in. I was, after all, getting things done. He tweaked the links and I could see things were better already. I asked him how much, but he said my money was no good there. Ah, Taiwan! This is the Taiwan I know and love! The Taiwan where a man will fix a bike chain at a moment’s notice and wave off your money with a smile. Strangely enough, when he declined my money, I instantly thought of a Bruce Springsteen song. This Taiwan is the New Jersey the Boss is always crooning about. This Taiwan is small-town America before big time America gets the better of it.
I had another sweet taste of the Taiwan I love today when I stopped by the Church. I asked to speak with someone who, it turned out, was absent. The man that told me this had only moments before been playing with a six year-old girl. They were waving around toy bubble wands in a vat of soapy water. He went inside the get the address I could find the man at, and I was left standing over a six year-old girl stirring a vat of soapy water. She never looked up at me; she was possessed; she was playing with bubles. But then she suddenly said, “My name is Chi Chi.”
“Oh, um, your name is Chi Chi?” I asked, diffidently.
“Yes,” she said, stirring as seriously as ever. She’ll make a fine chemist someday.
“Well, uh, my name… is Eddie.” Eddie is my Asian-friendly nickname here. ELLiot is a little daunting for the Taiwanese tongue.
Despite all her fanatical stirring, Chi Chi wasn’t making any bubbles. I said, “You need to add water,” which in Mandarin sounds a lot like “How old are you?”
“I am six,” Chi Chi answered in a brilliant non sequitur. Without warning, she looked up at me full in the face and shouted, “Sex!”
“Yes, um, you’re six.” After a second prompting, Chi Chi took my advice and added some water. She resumed stirring like a mini-witch on amphetamines over a black cauldron. I was speechless. Who am I to interrupt such serious work?
The man returned, gave me the address, and off I rode. Taiwan, 2. Foreigner, 1.
Ah, Taiwan. Sometimes I love you.
Sometimes I love you, and sometimes I can't draw my knife fast enough.
Take yesterday for example. Seriously, take yesterday! >RIMSHOT!< I got done with work by noon or so and was home with about 45 minutes to spare before my private tutee, Well (not a typo), showed up. It was well past time to ship my old roommate Erick's gigantor box o' stuff to him in the USA. This box nearly had to claim residency it was so large.
Seriously, there's no better way aside from a doctor’s latex ensheathed hand in the darker, tenderer areas of your person to assess your hernias and would-be hernias. I hefted this limbless monster to the elevator and then braced myself for the long haul two blocks south to the taxi hangout. There was no way I was going to heave it the four or so blocks east to the post office. (Oh, that hallowed post office, of it more ye shall presently hear!)
I made my sweaty, grunting way down Da En Street like some thin, white Atlas. Luckily for me, there appeared to be no one at the taxi depot. Lunch time. Splendid. I kept sweating. Soon enough a driver emerged and was ever so kind as to point at his taxi. Far be it form him to let me wait for him at the corner with my human-sized box. No. That’s fine. I’ll lug this hernia-generator over to you, Mr Driver Man.
In the taxi. To the post office. In the post office. I wedged the box on the shelf, completely blocking the teller window. The lady eventually got off the phone, squinted skeptically at my box, came out to me with a red ribbon tape measure, sized up the box and chirped, “Too big.”
“Too big,” I said, numbly.
“You have to make it smaller boxes.”
“Ooookay…. well,” I plowed on, knowing I also wanted to ship a couple books to friends in the USA, “can I ship these.”
“No,” she answered.
“No?”
“We have no envelopes.”
“I can’t ship books?” I was incredulous, too tired to be furious, too outraged to be apathetic.
“No. You can’t ship books to the USA.”
“You mean, no one in Taiwan can send my books to the USA.”
“Go to 7-11,” she replied.
“7-11?” I knew you could pay your bills and stave off the munchies at convenient stores, but ship books home – when the post office can’t?
I had hit the icy brick wall of a foreign culture. There was nothing left to discuss. My “Western” logic was useless. The post office, didn’t you know, doesn’t have envelopes. So off to 7-11 I went. It was right on the corner, next to the post office. (I smelled a racket.) In I trundled and lowered the box onto the floor like it was the Ark of the Covenant. We’d come this far.
“Hi there,” I said to the cashier, fearing the worst, “I would like to send these books home.”
“You can’t,” he answered, with the faintest hint of a confused smile.
“I can’t. The lady at the post office just told me–”
“Go to DHL,” he interjected.
“DHL? Where is DHL?”
“Call this number,” he said. All the while he was holding a pristine DHL envelope in his left hand, waiting to hold at least one of my books. But no. I was face-flat against that cold brick wall. Foreigner. At least I had stopped sweating.
And then I stepped outside, carrying the Ark on my warm moist shoulder. I was sweating again. I caught another taxi home, asked the door man for DHL’s address, learned I need to take my passport there to mail anything and returned the box and books to exactly where they had been before. Taiwan, 1. Foreigner, 0, and counting.
Like I said, sometimes I just can’t draw my knife on Taiwan fast enough. Taiwan got me that time. Home looked very good all of a sudden. And then Is topped sweating. Well came over. We talked about his weekend (he was in a piano contest) and the Olympics (Taiwan beat Australia 3-0). We played a little 3-D Pinball for a break. I told him the story of the Bible all the way to Joseph and the subsequent enslavement of the Israelites in Egypt. His mother came over and my day was wide open.
Feeling a little jaded about my life in Taiwan, but still wanting to get some chores done, I headed out, to the streets, into the evening. And I once again experienced the twin faces of Taiwan. Only hours before I had been ready to blow my stack in the post office. But then, as if in an enchanted urban forest, I was aglow with contentment. I was getting around town. I was getting tings done. I was wending my way through this culture, using the Mandarin I know and fitting in as best as I know how. Taiwan wounds and Taiwan heals.
The summit of our reunion came when I got my bike chain tightened. I happened to see a mechanic shop and turned in. I was, after all, getting things done. He tweaked the links and I could see things were better already. I asked him how much, but he said my money was no good there. Ah, Taiwan! This is the Taiwan I know and love! The Taiwan where a man will fix a bike chain at a moment’s notice and wave off your money with a smile. Strangely enough, when he declined my money, I instantly thought of a Bruce Springsteen song. This Taiwan is the New Jersey the Boss is always crooning about. This Taiwan is small-town America before big time America gets the better of it.
I had another sweet taste of the Taiwan I love today when I stopped by the Church. I asked to speak with someone who, it turned out, was absent. The man that told me this had only moments before been playing with a six year-old girl. They were waving around toy bubble wands in a vat of soapy water. He went inside the get the address I could find the man at, and I was left standing over a six year-old girl stirring a vat of soapy water. She never looked up at me; she was possessed; she was playing with bubles. But then she suddenly said, “My name is Chi Chi.”
“Oh, um, your name is Chi Chi?” I asked, diffidently.
“Yes,” she said, stirring as seriously as ever. She’ll make a fine chemist someday.
“Well, uh, my name… is Eddie.” Eddie is my Asian-friendly nickname here. ELLiot is a little daunting for the Taiwanese tongue.
Despite all her fanatical stirring, Chi Chi wasn’t making any bubbles. I said, “You need to add water,” which in Mandarin sounds a lot like “How old are you?”
“I am six,” Chi Chi answered in a brilliant non sequitur. Without warning, she looked up at me full in the face and shouted, “Sex!”
“Yes, um, you’re six.” After a second prompting, Chi Chi took my advice and added some water. She resumed stirring like a mini-witch on amphetamines over a black cauldron. I was speechless. Who am I to interrupt such serious work?
The man returned, gave me the address, and off I rode. Taiwan, 2. Foreigner, 1.
Ah, Taiwan. Sometimes I love you.
You really can buy anything on eBay
The three worst eBay products I've heard of:
3) a PS2 box for $US2000 (not the game station, just the box, as advertised)
2) a teenage boy's virginity
1) someone's soul
(Oh, and yes, this is an invitation to outdo, confirm, or disconfirm those Tales from the Open Market.)
The three worst eBay products I've heard of:
3) a PS2 box for $US2000 (not the game station, just the box, as advertised)
2) a teenage boy's virginity
1) someone's soul
(Oh, and yes, this is an invitation to outdo, confirm, or disconfirm those Tales from the Open Market.)
Possible new cure for psoriasis?
Some people near and dear to me have this condition (and/or something much like it), so this is good news.
Some people near and dear to me have this condition (and/or something much like it), so this is good news.
The ungood UN
A reader sends along a helpful article with a modest appraisal:
I'm inclined to agree, but I'm also skeptical whether such entities will hold up in the cauldrons of Central Asia and Africa in the coming future. See Patrick Geary's The Myth of Nations and Philip Jenkins's The Next Christendom for more info.
(Which reminds me: is there such a thing as a non-coming future?)
A reader sends along a helpful article with a modest appraisal:
I'm afraid, at least at this point in human history, the nation-state is the best means of protecting the common good. This is not to say that international bodies one day will not achieve this goal. I just don't think it is true now. Nor, sadly, will it be any time soon.
I'm inclined to agree, but I'm also skeptical whether such entities will hold up in the cauldrons of Central Asia and Africa in the coming future. See Patrick Geary's The Myth of Nations and Philip Jenkins's The Next Christendom for more info.
(Which reminds me: is there such a thing as a non-coming future?)
Skin Jobs
(Not related to the article, but any BR fans out there? If you caught "skin job" and "BR," you qualify.)
(Not related to the article, but any BR fans out there? If you caught "skin job" and "BR," you qualify.)
Sunday, August 15, 2004
On this Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary
Immaculate Conception and Assumption
Why Marian Dogma Matters So Much
Nite, y'all.
Immaculate Conception and Assumption
Why Marian Dogma Matters So Much
Nite, y'all.
By the way...
as the other half, or third, or tenth, or nth of the CAEI/NQCBSEI gerrymander, I have a few priviliges (and only a few). One of them being I know what Mark's big projects were. But I'll take the secret with me to the grave! (Well, that, or until Mark unveils them himself.) Wheeze, cackle, guffaw!
as the other half, or third, or tenth, or nth of the CAEI/NQCBSEI gerrymander, I have a few priviliges (and only a few). One of them being I know what Mark's big projects were. But I'll take the secret with me to the grave! (Well, that, or until Mark unveils them himself.) Wheeze, cackle, guffaw!
Another poor reader...
tumbles into my inept hands. Here, you take him!
How is supporting a just military action not a vote for the crime of murder? I think the solution to the first question lies somewhere in the neighborhood of answering this second question.
Class?
tumbles into my inept hands. Here, you take him!
I had always understood that it is a sin to vote for a pro-abortion candidate, such as Kerry, especially when the other candidate is much more in line with the pro-life view.
Recently, however, I read that it is not a sin to vote for a pro-abortion candidate if you are voting for him for reasons other than his pro-abortion stance. Is this correct? If so, what could possibly be the rationale behind this position? How is voting for Kerry NOT a vote for abortion, regardless of the fact that you don't want it to be?
How is supporting a just military action not a vote for the crime of murder? I think the solution to the first question lies somewhere in the neighborhood of answering this second question.
Class?
A reader asks Mark a question...
and is left with this Bougis Blogger.
Class? Mark? Geehrter Herr Kardinal Ratzinger?
and is left with this Bougis Blogger.
Maybe you can answer this one for me. A lot of the talk about denying pro-choice politicos like Kerry communion has got me thinking about something else. Kerry has gotten divorced and re-married. Now I'm not sure if his first marriage was a Catholic ceremony or not, but regardless....there obviously has not been so much talk over a divorced politician receiving communion. Is this because it is more of a private matter than a public stance on abortion?
I am a child of my father's second marriage, and whenever my parents go to Mass, they obviously do not go up for communion. It's sad, I know, but I admire the fact that they have the respect for the Eucharist that they would deny themselves of it.
What do you think the status quo amongst bishops, priests, etc. is in Divorcamerica in dealing with this? Thanks in advance.
Class? Mark? Geehrter Herr Kardinal Ratzinger?
Sudan Under the Lens
Transcript of this Same Panel
(props to Dan Darling for these leads)
How does Sudan fit into the global war on terrorism? Does the United States have a strategic, as well as a moral, interest in the crisis in Darfur? What practical steps should the Bush administration take to stop the catastrophe there? What interests, principles, and strategy should guide U.S. policy toward Sudan in a post-9/11 world?
These and other questions will be the subject of an AEI conference. Panelists include William Kristol, editor of The Weekly Standard; John Prendergast, special adviser to the president of the International Crisis Group and recently returned from extensive travel in Sudan and neighboring Chad; Ronald Sandee, a senior counter-terrorism analyst at the Ministry of Defense of the Netherlands; and Thomas Donnelly, resident fellow at AEI. Representative Frank Wolf (R-Va.), who recently returned from Darfur, will deliver the keynote speech.
Transcript of this Same Panel
(props to Dan Darling for these leads)
Nuns' Group Won't Listen to Abuse Victims at Conference
It's easy to get all fired up and angry about such ostensible intransigent clericalism, but I think we need to know more about this situation. I'm not defending the religious here, I am simply acknowledging the fact that the plaintiffs may have genuinely picked the wrong venue, like griping to the whole IRS at a local branch's weekend CPR refresher course. I'm certainly not about to stifle abuse victims -- which is exactly my point: maybe this setting would actually be counter-productive, a backfire.
But of course, as always, what it comes down to is: ahjustdunno. Anyone know any more about this, or is it really as simple as the headline makes it out to be?
It's easy to get all fired up and angry about such ostensible intransigent clericalism, but I think we need to know more about this situation. I'm not defending the religious here, I am simply acknowledging the fact that the plaintiffs may have genuinely picked the wrong venue, like griping to the whole IRS at a local branch's weekend CPR refresher course. I'm certainly not about to stifle abuse victims -- which is exactly my point: maybe this setting would actually be counter-productive, a backfire.
But of course, as always, what it comes down to is: ahjustdunno. Anyone know any more about this, or is it really as simple as the headline makes it out to be?
Swell, more soggy theologizing from the New York Times
First lapse: "catholic" doesn’t just mean universal; it means according to the fullness of Christ in the Eucharist as celebrated by a bishop in the person of Christ. In that, the accurate sense of the term, Ratzinger, as usual, is on the money.
Second lapse: the liberal double standard towards Christianity. When it comes to Europe’s flaws and pathologies and black marks, blame Christianity! But when it comes to acknowledging the astoundingly Christian heritage of Europe, and all that faith meant for European development, blame “doctrinal conservatives” for over-emphasizing it.
First lapse: "catholic" doesn’t just mean universal; it means according to the fullness of Christ in the Eucharist as celebrated by a bishop in the person of Christ. In that, the accurate sense of the term, Ratzinger, as usual, is on the money.
Second lapse: the liberal double standard towards Christianity. When it comes to Europe’s flaws and pathologies and black marks, blame Christianity! But when it comes to acknowledging the astoundingly Christian heritage of Europe, and all that faith meant for European development, blame “doctrinal conservatives” for over-emphasizing it.
That Pivotal and Brilliant Flash of Hope for SETI Enthusiasts Everywhere!
(props to Jimmy Akin for the link)
(props to Jimmy Akin for the link)
Sambo, the RPG!
Racism is cool, I guess, as long as it's cutting edge and profitable. And yes, the same charge holds against most hip-hop and gangsta rap these days. Feed on the Roots or Jurassic 5 or De La Soul for a more edifying and melodious hip-hop experience. [NB: Mark did not post this one!]
Racism is cool, I guess, as long as it's cutting edge and profitable. And yes, the same charge holds against most hip-hop and gangsta rap these days. Feed on the Roots or Jurassic 5 or De La Soul for a more edifying and melodious hip-hop experience. [NB: Mark did not post this one!]
The womb is holy
So back off.
(Have a gander here at Jimmy Akin's blog for a better alternative to IVF.)
So back off.
(Have a gander here at Jimmy Akin's blog for a better alternative to IVF.)
Endangered coral have quicker feet than you might imagine
Whether it was achieved by evolutionary or by specially created means, all I, an admittedly benighted little believer in the Risen Christ, see here is another case of the amazing, plastic durability of God's Creation. Nature adapts and fights against death precisely because it stems from the God who has pushed death into the grave. Nature adapts because God redeems.
Whether it was achieved by evolutionary or by specially created means, all I, an admittedly benighted little believer in the Risen Christ, see here is another case of the amazing, plastic durability of God's Creation. Nature adapts and fights against death precisely because it stems from the God who has pushed death into the grave. Nature adapts because God redeems.
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Hard to pass this one up
I become all things to all people, so that by any means I may win some for the Gospel
I become all things to all people, so that by any means I may win some for the Gospel
In the pope's message at the grotto, read out by French Cardinal Roger Etchegaray, he told sick pilgrims who visit here in their millions every year that he was one of them.
"With you I share a time of life marked by physical suffering, yet not for that reason any less fruitful in God's wondrous plan.
"Dear brothers and sisters who are sick, how I would like to embrace each and every one of you with affection, to tell you how close I am to you and how much I support you."
Yo, all my peoples in the house!
Elliot here.
I know I haven't posted much in the last few, well, hours, but fear not: my PC has been significantly de-tweaked and the links are lined up for a blog shower tomorrow and the following day. It's troubling and highly suspicious when a blogger has a life offline, I know, but, amazingly, I've been sustaining one for a whole week! Uncanny! I've been reading some good books (whole-length books!), sending and preparing to send some very important emails, working out more regularly, getting more and more comfortably atop the ESL ball for a new year, catching up on some sorely missed sleep, smoothing out a nasty little culture shock scandal at my school I mentioned a week or two ago, trying desperately to keep up with my appetite, and enjoying the movie *Collateral* more than I'd have ever expected.
Now, I know all youse guys want is and endless and endlessly stimulating stream of His Sheafulness's blog sheavings, but he has a higher and grander plan still. Nevertheless, I'm sure we can make it together to September 1! I believe in you, yes YOU! This old CAEI\NQCBSEI, and the eerie creature at the helm, Markstesheaheit, still have some good kick left in them.
Lo, despite myself this brief update post has become a veritable grab bag of comment fodder! Thus, I bequeath upon you two jokes. (Hack me if ya heard 'em before.)
Christian Heritage - August 13 - Victory is Sought by the Darts of Prayer
Augustine Day by Day - August 13 - Rich and Poor--Equal Births
Have at it! Just play nice-nice. Bis später!
Elliot here.
I know I haven't posted much in the last few, well, hours, but fear not: my PC has been significantly de-tweaked and the links are lined up for a blog shower tomorrow and the following day. It's troubling and highly suspicious when a blogger has a life offline, I know, but, amazingly, I've been sustaining one for a whole week! Uncanny! I've been reading some good books (whole-length books!), sending and preparing to send some very important emails, working out more regularly, getting more and more comfortably atop the ESL ball for a new year, catching up on some sorely missed sleep, smoothing out a nasty little culture shock scandal at my school I mentioned a week or two ago, trying desperately to keep up with my appetite, and enjoying the movie *Collateral* more than I'd have ever expected.
Now, I know all youse guys want is and endless and endlessly stimulating stream of His Sheafulness's blog sheavings, but he has a higher and grander plan still. Nevertheless, I'm sure we can make it together to September 1! I believe in you, yes YOU! This old CAEI\NQCBSEI, and the eerie creature at the helm, Markstesheaheit, still have some good kick left in them.
Lo, despite myself this brief update post has become a veritable grab bag of comment fodder! Thus, I bequeath upon you two jokes. (Hack me if ya heard 'em before.)
1) Little Timmy Shaughnessy
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have been with a loose woman."
The priest asks, "Is that you, little Timmy Shaughnessy?"
"Yes, Father, it is."
"And, who was the woman you were with?"
"I can't be tellin' you, Father. I don't want to ruin her
reputation."
"Well, Timmy, I'm sure to find out sooner or later, so you may as
well tell me now."
"Was it Brenda O'Malley?"
"I cannot say."
"Was it Patricia Kelly?"
"I'll never tell."
"Was it Sheilah O'Brien?"
"I'm sorry, but I cannot name her."
"Was it Kathleen Morgan?"
"My lips are sealed."
"Was it Fiona Grogan, then?"
"Please, Father, I cannot tell you."
The priest sighs in frustration. "You're a steadfast lad, Timmy Shaughnessy, and I admire that. But you've sinned, and you must atone. You cannot attend church mass for three months. Be off with you now."
Timmy walks back to his pew. His friend Sean slides over and whispers, "What'd you get?"
"Three months' vacation and five good leads."
2) Saint Kerry
John Kerry was going to visit the Catholic National Cathedral outside Washington as part of his campaign. Kerry's campaign manager made a visit to the Cardinal and said to him, "We've been getting a lot of bad publicity among Catholics because of Kerry's position on abortion and the like. We'd gladly make a contribution to the church of $100,000 if during your sermon you'd say John Kerry is a saint."
The Cardinal thinks it over for a moment and agrees to do it.
Kerry shows up, and as the Mass progresses as the Cardinal begins his homily.
"John Kerry is an unprincipled, petty, self absorbed hypocrite and a nit-wit. He is a liar, a cheat, and a thief. He is the worst example of a Catholic I've ever personally known. But compared to Ted Kennedy [ or Obey? -- EBB], John Kerry is a saint."
Christian Heritage - August 13 - Victory is Sought by the Darts of Prayer
Augustine Day by Day - August 13 - Rich and Poor--Equal Births
Have at it! Just play nice-nice. Bis später!
Friday, August 13, 2004
Finished! Alleluia!
The Giant Project is finished! It's like having an immense weight roll off my shoulders! That means, paradoxically, that you will see even less of me till the end of the month. Why? Because I've been starting my day by posting various stuff before I dove into the mega-work pile. But I've also been working loooooooong days to get the work done. Now I'm taking a much-needed vacation till month's end (I had to bag out on the river trip to get the John materials up to Nihil Obstat snuff). When I vacation, I vacation. So I will only very occasionally be checking in on the blog till month's end.
Best wishes to y'all. Do keep checking in to see what Elliot's up to. I shall be back 9/1/04 with more of whatever it is I do. Meantime, please don't bury me with email containing news links cuz they'll be very old news by the time I get back.
Tonight: back yard campout with the little guys and stargazing! Life is Good!
Bye till September!
The Giant Project is finished! It's like having an immense weight roll off my shoulders! That means, paradoxically, that you will see even less of me till the end of the month. Why? Because I've been starting my day by posting various stuff before I dove into the mega-work pile. But I've also been working loooooooong days to get the work done. Now I'm taking a much-needed vacation till month's end (I had to bag out on the river trip to get the John materials up to Nihil Obstat snuff). When I vacation, I vacation. So I will only very occasionally be checking in on the blog till month's end.
Best wishes to y'all. Do keep checking in to see what Elliot's up to. I shall be back 9/1/04 with more of whatever it is I do. Meantime, please don't bury me with email containing news links cuz they'll be very old news by the time I get back.
Tonight: back yard campout with the little guys and stargazing! Life is Good!
Bye till September!
Perseids
For the last two nights the fambly has laid out in the back yard on our big green foofy mat and watched the annual Perseid showers. You talk quietly. You savor the dry earth smells of a warm August night. You ooh and ahh when a meteor streaks across the sky. You try to guess constellations. You point out the dim light of a satellite gliding overhead on a polar orbit. You tell the little ones how far away the stars are (and try to remember the bits and pieces you know from old science shows). You look at Sirius and think "That's what the star looked like when you moved into the house". You wonder if a star you are looking at still exists and if the light from its explosion 20 years ago will be arriving at earth tonight.
Somebody tells a joke and we all laugh quietly. Sean, the littlest one, is a little nervous and asks about vampire bats. Mama assures him they don't live around here. The air is so cool and sweet. Just breathing is a pleasure.
You feel your little boy's arm next to yours and he feels for your hand to hold. He tells you, with complete simplicity, how wonderful God's creation is. You tell him David thought the same thing:
O Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is thy name in all the earth!
When I look at thy heavens, the work of thy fingers,
the moon and the stars which thou hast established;
what is man that thou art mindful of him,
and the son of man that thou dost care for him?
Yet thou hast made him little less than God,
and dost crown him with glory and honor.
You feel extremely small--and it feels good.
The earth is at your back like an immense wall and you could just step forward to the heavens anytime you want. You say good night prayers with the little ones under the vaulted ceilings of the Great Cathedral. You are a rich man. You just say thanks.
For the last two nights the fambly has laid out in the back yard on our big green foofy mat and watched the annual Perseid showers. You talk quietly. You savor the dry earth smells of a warm August night. You ooh and ahh when a meteor streaks across the sky. You try to guess constellations. You point out the dim light of a satellite gliding overhead on a polar orbit. You tell the little ones how far away the stars are (and try to remember the bits and pieces you know from old science shows). You look at Sirius and think "That's what the star looked like when you moved into the house". You wonder if a star you are looking at still exists and if the light from its explosion 20 years ago will be arriving at earth tonight.
Somebody tells a joke and we all laugh quietly. Sean, the littlest one, is a little nervous and asks about vampire bats. Mama assures him they don't live around here. The air is so cool and sweet. Just breathing is a pleasure.
You feel your little boy's arm next to yours and he feels for your hand to hold. He tells you, with complete simplicity, how wonderful God's creation is. You tell him David thought the same thing:
O Lord, our Lord,
how majestic is thy name in all the earth!
When I look at thy heavens, the work of thy fingers,
the moon and the stars which thou hast established;
what is man that thou art mindful of him,
and the son of man that thou dost care for him?
Yet thou hast made him little less than God,
and dost crown him with glory and honor.
You feel extremely small--and it feels good.
The earth is at your back like an immense wall and you could just step forward to the heavens anytime you want. You say good night prayers with the little ones under the vaulted ceilings of the Great Cathedral. You are a rich man. You just say thanks.
Of interest to some of my readers
Jeff Ostrowski writes:
Jeff Ostrowski writes:
I wanted to make you aware of my newest CD release: Summi et Aeterni Sacerdoti.
This CD had no funding whatsoever. I produced it with the help of about 50 friends who love Sacred polyphonic music and Gregorian chant. Some of my friends were professional singers, and some had never sung before I started working with them. This CD represents the summation of all the musical projects I've undertaken over the last three years. The highlight of the CD is the five-voice polyphonic Mass I composed in the style of 16th century ounterpoint.
RadTrads Go Mad
Not only that, there are alien bodies stored in large freezer units below the altar at St. Peters!
Not only that, there are alien bodies stored in large freezer units below the altar at St. Peters!
China Tries to Figure a Way out of the Mess it Has Created
State-Mandated Birthing or Killing of Selected Members of the Herd: the Apotheosis of the "Choice" Movement
State-Mandated Birthing or Killing of Selected Members of the Herd: the Apotheosis of the "Choice" Movement
University of North Carolina Bowling Groups...
like to limit their membership to people who want to go bowling. Similarly, University Jewish groups have this odd penchant for wanting Jewish members. Same for golf clubs: they seem to insist on their members wanting to golf. But when a Christian group wants to limit the membership to Christians, all of a sudden it's "discrimination".
Fortunately, the University is only persecuting Christians though. So it doesn't matter.
like to limit their membership to people who want to go bowling. Similarly, University Jewish groups have this odd penchant for wanting Jewish members. Same for golf clubs: they seem to insist on their members wanting to golf. But when a Christian group wants to limit the membership to Christians, all of a sudden it's "discrimination".
Fortunately, the University is only persecuting Christians though. So it doesn't matter.
Saw the "The Village" Last Night
It was an interesting failure, I thought. Though it was interesting enough that I may go back to see it again. I won't go into much detail at present (since I don't want to give away plot points). I do think the critical backlash he's getting from the dedicate secularists at Slate and elsewhere has more to do with the fact that Shyamalan asks religious questions and values pre-modern ways of seeing than with the quality of his work. On the whole, I give him a lot of points for trying to ask the right questions and can excuse him when he doesn't bat a thousand.
Please: if you must discuss the film, don't give away spoilers. Half the fun of a Shyamalan film is the plot twists.
It was an interesting failure, I thought. Though it was interesting enough that I may go back to see it again. I won't go into much detail at present (since I don't want to give away plot points). I do think the critical backlash he's getting from the dedicate secularists at Slate and elsewhere has more to do with the fact that Shyamalan asks religious questions and values pre-modern ways of seeing than with the quality of his work. On the whole, I give him a lot of points for trying to ask the right questions and can excuse him when he doesn't bat a thousand.
Please: if you must discuss the film, don't give away spoilers. Half the fun of a Shyamalan film is the plot twists.
Reason #938457438593 to Kill your Television
Gotta love this: "We are quite sensitive to certain issues, one of course being death."
I do appreciate one thing about this development. It will forever put to death the brow-furrowed sagacity of TeeVee "journalists" who talk about how serious their calling is--as though Edward R. Murrow is still alive. TV news has, for years, primarily been about selling beer and shampoo and (when time permits) shaping young skull full of mush so that they will nod unthinkingly in favor of the sorts of cultural and political shibboleths the news manufacturers like to talk with their friends about over wine and cheese.
Gotta love this: "We are quite sensitive to certain issues, one of course being death."
I do appreciate one thing about this development. It will forever put to death the brow-furrowed sagacity of TeeVee "journalists" who talk about how serious their calling is--as though Edward R. Murrow is still alive. TV news has, for years, primarily been about selling beer and shampoo and (when time permits) shaping young skull full of mush so that they will nod unthinkingly in favor of the sorts of cultural and political shibboleths the news manufacturers like to talk with their friends about over wine and cheese.
"My truth is that I am an Adulterous American" doesn't scan as well
What's with the "my truth" thing? And what's with the preposterous claim that "it makes little difference that as governor I am gay" seconds after the fact of his illicit gay adventures and gay cronyism have brought his entire political career to destruction? Talk about a Big Lie!
I will give him this though. There are some bishops who could do with having the integrity to say that their actions were "wrong, foolish and inexcusable" followed by, "Given the circumstances surrounding the affair and its likely impact upon my ...ability to govern, I have decided the right course of action is to resign."
Pretty sad when a corrupt Jersey pol has more integrity than some of our bishops.
What's with the "my truth" thing? And what's with the preposterous claim that "it makes little difference that as governor I am gay" seconds after the fact of his illicit gay adventures and gay cronyism have brought his entire political career to destruction? Talk about a Big Lie!
I will give him this though. There are some bishops who could do with having the integrity to say that their actions were "wrong, foolish and inexcusable" followed by, "Given the circumstances surrounding the affair and its likely impact upon my ...ability to govern, I have decided the right course of action is to resign."
Pretty sad when a corrupt Jersey pol has more integrity than some of our bishops.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
Camp Songs for the Kids of Fanatical Secularists
I love the idea of a "free thought community" where you aren't allow to think about God or, at best, you are allowed to think one thing and one thing only. Scratch an atheist, find a fundamentalist.
I love the idea of a "free thought community" where you aren't allow to think about God or, at best, you are allowed to think one thing and one thing only. Scratch an atheist, find a fundamentalist.
Prayers for All You Floridians and East Coasters (and Cubans too, I see from the map)
Hope the Hurricane decides to head east instead of north! May God spare you through Jesus Christ.
Hope the Hurricane decides to head east instead of north! May God spare you through Jesus Christ.
Cosby Continues to Speak Truth to Powerlessness
I figure he's only got a limited window of opportunity before the Jackson/Sharpton/NAALCP Axis of Evil starts trying to shout him down as an old fart who doesn't understand the real troubles the black community faces. I'll bet it's just a matter of time before the hit pieces on the Rich Guy Who Sold Out to the White Man start.
He does, however, retain a great advantage. He speaks the truth and they lie.
I figure he's only got a limited window of opportunity before the Jackson/Sharpton/NAALCP Axis of Evil starts trying to shout him down as an old fart who doesn't understand the real troubles the black community faces. I'll bet it's just a matter of time before the hit pieces on the Rich Guy Who Sold Out to the White Man start.
He does, however, retain a great advantage. He speaks the truth and they lie.
Mark My Words...
"Kingdom of Heaven" is going to be the "Catwoman" of historical drama. It is going to suck soooooo bad that it will vacuum all the air out of cinemaplexes all over the US and leave moviegoers in danger of popping from the pressure loss. This is going to be one massive piece of PC brain death.
"Kingdom of Heaven" is going to be the "Catwoman" of historical drama. It is going to suck soooooo bad that it will vacuum all the air out of cinemaplexes all over the US and leave moviegoers in danger of popping from the pressure loss. This is going to be one massive piece of PC brain death.
America Magazine Continues its Reliably Subversive Assault on the Obvious Teaching of the Church
The mission of the Jesuits was to convert the elite to Christ, not conform Christ to the opinions of the elite. Somebody on the editorial staff at America seems to have forgotten that.
The mission of the Jesuits was to convert the elite to Christ, not conform Christ to the opinions of the elite. Somebody on the editorial staff at America seems to have forgotten that.
More on Imperial Hubris
The longer I contemplate our Carthaginian faith in technology, commerce, and our dedication to a life of ease so profound that we will sacrifice millions of our own children to maintain it, the more I wonder if we are, in the long run, going to be capable of comprehending, much less effectively fighting, an enemy that is insanely dedicated to sacrificing all for their diseased notion of God.
I reminds me a great deal of Chesterton's description of the war between Rome and Carthage. Two great pagan powers at each other's throats. But the one that lost was the one that most deeply believed that Mammon was the key to all life.
The only way to oppose Islam, in the long run, will be by the power of the Holy Spirit. Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.
The longer I contemplate our Carthaginian faith in technology, commerce, and our dedication to a life of ease so profound that we will sacrifice millions of our own children to maintain it, the more I wonder if we are, in the long run, going to be capable of comprehending, much less effectively fighting, an enemy that is insanely dedicated to sacrificing all for their diseased notion of God.
I reminds me a great deal of Chesterton's description of the war between Rome and Carthage. Two great pagan powers at each other's throats. But the one that lost was the one that most deeply believed that Mammon was the key to all life.
The only way to oppose Islam, in the long run, will be by the power of the Holy Spirit. Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts.
The Land of the Apostate Puritans Swaggers Off to the Olympics Again
Oh goody. Another chance to Export our Culture.
Oh goody. Another chance to Export our Culture.
Inside the Mind of the Enemy
It is a mind we are *embarrassed* to try to comprehend because so much of it is so resolutely pre-modern. And as long as we remain too pigheadedly embarrassed to try to comprehend it, we shall be at a disadvantage in fighting it, for we will be trying hard to avoid the obvious.
It is a mind we are *embarrassed* to try to comprehend because so much of it is so resolutely pre-modern. And as long as we remain too pigheadedly embarrassed to try to comprehend it, we shall be at a disadvantage in fighting it, for we will be trying hard to avoid the obvious.
This should be an interesting puzzle for some Conservative Catholics[TM]
Do you file this under "The Passion: Reaping a Harvest of Penance and Contrite Souls for Christ" or "Forget our Stupid Modernist Pope and His Namby Pamby Approach to the Death Penalty: Burn this Murdering Bastard!"
Do you file this under "The Passion: Reaping a Harvest of Penance and Contrite Souls for Christ" or "Forget our Stupid Modernist Pope and His Namby Pamby Approach to the Death Penalty: Burn this Murdering Bastard!"