For The Rebel Children

I, myself, am a rebel, just so you know.

And a couple of weeks ago, I had the honor of being a chaperone on our parish's Confirmation retreat. If you don't know, Catholic kids receive the Sacrament of Confirmation sometime during their high school years; and before that occasion, they usually attend a retreat in order to prepare and reflect upon the graces they will receive from that Sacrament, as well as what it means to be a Catholic.

The retreat that I helped with was a very good one. It included prayer and music and speakers -- including teen speakers -- and Mass and Confession and Eucharistic adoration. It was very well-run and the kids seemed to enjoy it.

There were some kids there though, who were rebels, in the best sense of the word. These kids are people who question the status quo, who have merciful hearts, who have a great sense of justice, who are compassionate, who are creative. And they don't always like what they are seeing in the Catholic Church.

And I guess what concerns me is that these kids didn't seem to get much of a chance to have their voices heard during this retreat. It seemed to be, basically, assumed by the retreat organizer that everyone was on the same page concerning the moral authority of Church teaching. And these kids were very well-behaved, not really wanting to make waves.

But -- you know -- if we Catholic "grown-ups" aren't careful, we will lose these kids. Because these kids are smart and their questions are legitimate ones and they are not being answered. Oftentimes, too, the Church (at least where I live) doesn't act in a way that is very tolerant of different points of view. So, if a kid does have the guts to speak up and ask a difficult question, they might be given a solid answer, but that answer comes with the attitude that "it's this way or the highway." And that's not how it should be. Not everything is black and white in the application of Church teaching. There is the primacy of conscience. So, we need to be careful. The Church needs these young people. They are strong and they are smart and they are good. And they need to be taught in a way that respects their intelligence and their sense of justice and their compassion. They need to be taught in a way that respects their consciences and their creativity. Yes, we need to teach them Church doctrine accurately, but there needs to be space for discussion. AND they -- the rebel children -- need to know that we want them in the Church. At least I want them in the Church.

Why?

Because rebels bring fresh perspectives and honesty. They force us to look at ourselves. They shake things up; they force us to clean things up. They remind us of what is essential. They encourage us to behave respectfully toward different kinds of people. They keep us from living in an echo chamber.

So, my prayer for the rebel children receiving Confirmation is that the Holy Spirit will assure them of God's unconditional love for them and give them the graces of wisdom and understanding and confidence that their voices matter in the Church and in the world.

God bless the rebel children. Amen.

Things That Make Me Go "Hmmm..."

You may have read the comment made by "Ricardo" on my last blog post. When I read it, I pretty much felt like Hester Prynn. Into my mind came all the images of women -- misunderstood, abused, ostracized, shunned, shut down -- because they were/are sinners. I especially felt that way because I am a Catholic and Ricardo is a Catholic deacon. Thankfully, not at my parish. Although, he does live a few doors down from me. And I admit that every time I walk down the street since reading that comment, I hyperventilate and feel rather faint (which I do twice a day, when I walk my dogs).

Now, as a Catholic, I do not deny that I am a sinner. I know that I am. I am also grateful that I was not brought up in a Catholic environment inhabited by people like Ricardo. I was brought up in an environment inhabited by people like Pope Francis.

I read today some words that Francis spoke in Cuba, addressing priests and bishops (members of the clergy who hear Confessions). Deacons do not hear Confessions, thanks be to God. And these words reminded me why I have faith in Jesus. Because Jesus EMBRACES the sinner. He has MERCY and COMPASSION on the sinner. He does not smack the sinner to the ground as she makes herself vulnerable and tries to get up from a fall. Rather, He gives her His hand.

I would like now to share these words of our wonderful Pope Francis with you, so that you may understand why I am still Catholic, in spite of what people like Ricardo might say to me:

"....there is a privileged place for the priest where this last one, this least one, this smallest one is found -- and it is the confessional. And there, when this man or this woman shows you his misery -- careful because it's the same misery that you have and from which God saved you, eh? from getting to that point. When he or she shows you his misery, please, don't scold him. Don't scold him, don't punish him. If you don't have sin, throw the first stone. But only under that condition. If not, think of your sins and think that you could be that person and think that you could potentially fall even lower, and think that you in this moment have in your hands a treasure, which is the mercy of the Father. Please, priests, don't get tired of forgiving, like Jesus did. Don't hide in fears or in rigidities. Just like this nun (a sister from the Congregation of the Missionaries of Charity who had spoken before the Pope) and all of those who are in the same ministry as she is, they don't get furious when they find a sick person who is dirty, but instead serve him, clean him, take care of him. Just like this, you, when a penitent comes, don't react badly, don't get neurotic, don't cast him out of the confessional, don't scold him. Jesus embraced them. Jesus loved them. Tomorrow, we celebrate St. Matthew. He was a thief and beyond that, betrayed his people. And the Gospel says that at night, Jesus went to dine with him and others like him. St. Ambrose has a phrase that moves me a lot: 'where there is mercy, the Spirit of Jesus is there; where there is rigidity, merely his ministers are there.'

"Brother priest, brother bishop, do not be afraid of mercy, allow it to flow out of your hands and through your embrace of forgiveness. Because this person or that person who is there are the least ones, and therefore it is Jesus. ....Poverty and mercy....that is where Jesus is."

And isn't that how we come to conversion -- a turning away from the bad and toward the good? Isn't it through being shown love? Isn't it through being shown mercy? Not from having your lack of logic pounced upon. Not from being compared to "pagans" who practiced child sacrifice. But from being embraced by love, by compassion -- by Christ. And he isn't walking down the streets of our cities right now -- but, we are. And we who call ourselves Christians have a very serious obligation not to push people away in His name.

There are people who believe in God and people who don't. There are Jews and Hindus and Muslims and Pagans and Buddhists. Among all of these, there are people of goodwill. All deserve to have their faith -- or lack, thereof -- respected. All deserve love and mercy and compassion. Because we are all kind of a mess, when you think about it. Nobody -- really -- is in a position to cast that first stone. I mean, look at Jesus. Christians believe He is God and -- thus -- perfect. And even He does not cast stones. Rather, He holds us close and wipes our tears.

Pax.

P.S. -- Please pray for me to forgive Ricardo. I admit that it isn't easy. I want to be able to walk by his house and offer him a kind hello, instead of fainting in his driveway. ;-)

And This Is Exactly Why Caitlyn Jenner Won The Arthur Ashe Courage Award

Today I read a post by a popular Catholic blogger. It began: "Bruce Jenner won the ESPN courage award last night." This blogger's refusal to refer to Ms. Jenner as Caitlyn Jenner tells you a lot. And everything else he wrote in his article tells you EXACTLY WHY Caitlyn Jenner won The Arthur Ashe Courage Award. The whole piece was dripping with cruel disrespect and downright ignorance. In fact, in perusing this man's blog, I must say that a lot of his posts drip with cruel disrespect and downright ignorance.

But, anyway, back to the issue of Ms. Jenner.

The Catholic blogger goes on accuse Ms. Jenner of "mutiliating" her "genitals" and "playing dress up." The blogger says, "Jenner cut himself up and started wearing girls' clothes because he wanted to. It makes him feel good." EXCUSE ME?!?! First of all, from everything I have read, Ms. Jenner has not had any surgery on her genitals. Ms. Jenner also identifies as a woman, so she cannot be accused of "playing dress up." She is trying -- for all intents and purposes -- to authentically live her gender identity. And to have to live one's gender identity in the face of such ignorant insults certainly qualifies as courage, in my book. Catholics say that they "don't hate" LGBT people. Well... I'm sorry. But, this is hate, pure and simple. Ignorant hate.

The Catholic blogger says that Caitlyn Jenner does what she does "merely because it satisfies an urge." And then he goes on to say, "He needs counseling. Extensive, prolonged counseling. And Jesus."

Guess what? Ms. Jenner has had that type of counseling. It has been a struggle for her. She has done the best she can. She is doing the best she can. And standing tall in the face of the disrespect that this blogger -- and others like him -- throw at her is courage. Absolute courage.

And as far as Jesus goes? I read an article a while back written by the pastor of a Christian church that Bruce Jenner and his family attended many years ago. The pastor said that Bruce was there each and every Sunday -- even when the rest of his family couldn't make it. This pastor said that Bruce listened intently to the Bible readings and the sermons, sang with enthusiasm and devotion, and asked many intelligent and probing questions about our Lord in his attempt to know and love Him. In my opinion, it sounds like Bruce (now Caitlyn) has a lot more Jesus than this Catholic blogger. And a lot more courage.

It is easy to hurl insults and be applauded. It is NOT courage. That's what this Catholic blogger does.

Caityln is applauded, too. And -- yes -- she will make money from her story. But, that doesn't take away from its authenticity. Also -- as far as I can tell -- she has never hurled an insult at anybody. She has never shown any hatred. She seeks to spread understanding -- not just about herself, but about transsexual people, in general. And these trans people are hated by many. They need our love and support. So, Ms. Jenner, I will happily buy your book. Because you truly do have courage, especially when you are standing -- without flinching -- before those who claim to speak for God and who would condemn you for being who you are.

Catholics -- especially those who call themselves "traditional" and "orthodox" and would put themselves in leadership roles -- need to EDUCATE THEMSELVES about LGTBQ issues. They need to read modern thought with at least somewhat of an open mind. I am not saying they need to agree, but they need to stop sounding like cruel, ignorant fools.  Sorry if that "fools" part sounds harsh, but they do come across as such. They really do.

My oldest daughter said to me once, "Maybe walking the 'straight and narrow' really means standing up for these people," meaning the LGBT people. Now -- to be clear -- she wasn't saying that we should reject Church teaching. But -- what she was saying -- is that when unfair, uneducated, cruel accusations are hurled at them, we need to stand up for them. We need to show compassion. We need to show mercy. We need to appreciate their intelligence and gifts and talents and actually integrate them into our society (and even into our personal lives). We need to LISTEN to them, and not just dismiss what they are saying about themselves. Because it is more difficult and requires much more wisdom and grace to do these things than to hurl Church teaching at them in a way that is unproductive, at best, and full of hate, at worst.

Frankly, we don't know all there is to know about human sexuality. And it's time for us Catholics to stop thinking that we do. Because that kind of pride is causing a lot of harm -- to individuals, to society, and to the Church.

Finally, I want to just remind everyone that Arthur Ashe died of AIDS, which is a disease -- at least when I was younger -- that caused people who had it to be treated with great suspicion and much unjust discrimination, even hatred. That is what Caitlyn Jenner -- and many LGBT people -- are being treated with now -- great suspicion, unjust discrimination, and even hatred. So -- maybe, just maybe -- Caitlyn is a VERY appropriate recipient of that award.

Governor Jindal Called Me A "Left-Wing Ideologue"

Well... Not to my face.

But, he called those who think business people should not be able to discriminate against gay people in providing services for same-sex weddings "left-wing ideologues."

So, I guess I must be included.

Which is really funny to me.

Because in my U.S. Government class in high school we had to take this little test which measured how liberal or conservative we were. The results? This kinda hot Mormon boy and I got a tie score as the most conservative people in the school. He was interested in me for about five minutes. Until he found out how Catholic I was. The teacher said, "Marla, you should be on your knees before Ronald Reagan." (Mind you. This was no insult. That particular teacher was a staunch Republican.)

And -- yes -- I voted for Reagan. And Bush. And Bush. And McCain. And Romney. (Although, that one was rather painful.)

I also homeschooled my kids and paid their tuition at pretty much the most conservative Catholic colleges IN THE WORLD. Not in the state, mind you. Or even the country. But, THE WORLD.

So, to have myself lumped in with the "left-wing ideologues" was quite hilarious. And also quite illustrative of today's conservative thinking.

Which is why, I suppose, I can't really call myself a conservative, anymore. I jumped off that train as it derailed and I found my feet firmly planted in the land of Obamacare.

And after much research and thinking and soul-searching, I have also found my feet firmly planted in the land of marriage equality. If a marriage is legal, then it should stand on equal legal ground with all other legal marriages, and should be respected, as such.

And what does this mean to me, as far as religious freedom goes?

It means that the Catholic Church (and any other religious organization) should never, ever be forced to preside at weddings which do not conform to their theology. Even the Human Rights Campaign asserts that they should never have to do this, as it would be a very clear violation of the Constitution.

But, as far as taking photographs and serving food and baking cakes and preparing pizza? To assert that to do this is a violation of your religious freedom is tenuous, at best. And more like ridiculous. I'm not going to go into a big explanation of this. Many others have explained it, and explained it very well.

I am, though, going to tell you where all this pizza/cake/flowers/photograph hoo-ha came from.

As I have existed, for many years, in the land of the right -- both religious and political -- I was able to observe much of the development of the anti-same-sex-marriage movement. And I came to realize that it was primarily based on fear. The movement had to make people afraid of what would happen to them if same-sex marriage became a reality. I heard priests and political people speak very persuasively about how we Christians would be persecuted if same-sex marriage were legalized. It truly was frightening. I became frightened. And I'm sorry for that. It was only after I started doing research and speaking to people on my own that I became un-frightened. Now -- mind you -- there were (and are) people who don't support same-sex marriage and who speak about their views in a way that is not fear-inducing. It is more philosphical and theological. But, there was (and is) A LOT of hysterical talk in the anti-same-sex-marriage movement.

So, when same-sex marriage was legalized in many places and nothing frightening occurred and most people were starting to make peace with their same-sex-married-couple neighbors, the anti-same-sex-marriage movement had to come up with a way to show the populace that they were, IN FACT, being religiously persecuted and should, IN FACT, be very afraid. Enter the Same-Sex-Pizza-Wars (insert "flowers" or "photography" or "cake" for "pizza," as you so desire).

Simply put: YOU ARE BEING PLAYED, nice conservative people.

(And here I'm going to put in a plug for the nice conservative people. Most of them don't hate anybody. Some of them do. This is true. And that hate is absolutely unacceptable. But, most of them don't. They are being played, which calls for a little patience and understanding on your part, nice progressive people.)

Because, you know what? Providing wedding services is not the same thing as participating in a marriage ceremony. And refusing to provide the services of your business because a marriage does not conform to your theology could rightfully be seen as constituting discrimination. I, personally, believe it does.

There are many types of marriages that the Catholic Church does not deem as "Sacramental" in its theology. Same-sex marriage is one of those types, but there are many others. I generally don't see the Catholic Church, or any other Christian churches, making a lot of noise about their members catering these other non-Sacramental weddings. So, frankly, it looks like we are picking on the LGBTQ people in a rather cruel way.

I look at it this way. I understand what the Catholic Church teaches about marriage. And I respect it. But, I am also quite sure that we don't know everything there is to know about human sexuality. And if somebody is gay or lesbian, forming a relationship with a person of the same sex is the natural thing to do. And these relationships are whole relationships. They are not just all about the sex act. They truly are about love and commitment. They are emotionally and spiritually supportive. They are TOTAL relationships.

Yes, there are unhealthy same-sex relationships. There are also unhealthy heterosexual relationships -- lots of them. But, same-sex relationships can also be very healthy and satisfying for the people involved. And I feel uncomfortable casting a negative judgment on these relationships. I think to myself, "I am very straight. What if I was told I either had to marry another woman or be alone for the rest of my life?" That kind of sums it up, for me.

So, this Catholic lady, who sent her kids to the three most conservative Catholic colleges IN THE WORLD, would -- if I knew how -- be very happy to arrange the flowers or bake the cake or take the pictures or prepare the pizza for your same-sex wedding. And I would wish you much happiness as I did so.

Pax.

My Schubertiade Moment

My beloved dad passed away when my daughter, Bridget, was a sophomore at Thomas Aquinas College in Santa Paula. We live in San Diego. My parents lived in Redwood City. Santa Paula is in between those two places, so we made arrangements to pick Bridget up en route.

Now, Thomas Aquinas College (TAC) is sort of a sophisticated place. Kind of formal. I am neither sophisticated, nor formal, as you may well have surmised if you have previously read this blog. My daughter is more sophisticated and formal than I, however, which is probably one of the reasons she chose TAC. Every time I went to visit her, though, I kind of blundered around. I always felt like an elephant in the room, so to speak. Though it is a lovely place, it is not my kind of place. And this particular visit went -- typically -- awry for me, but in a more extreme fashion than usual.

Thankfully, the staff and students at TAC -- though tending to conservative formality and impeccable propriety -- are also very polite and forbearing of their visitors. And some of them, I suspect, are my kindred spirits. They just hide it well.

Anyway, the day of our arrival happened to coincide to a school-wide event known as the Schubertiade. It's this fancy type of classical music performance -- basically the polar opposite of a Van Halen concert -- where many of the students perform lovely classical pieces for their teachers and confreres. It is held in the library -- which, at TAC, is a VERY formal building -- and most all of the students attend. If you are a student at TAC, you had better attend the Schubertiade. And if you don't, you had better either be studying or doing your work-study job preparing dinner in the kitchen.

As we pulled up to the school in our minivan, Bridget happily greeted us and led us proudly into the library for this wondrous event. Those of you who know me are laughing very hard right now, thinking of me at such a thing. I have avoided classical music, at basically all costs, throughout my whole life. And my kid -- MY KID, for heaven's sake -- is excitedly pulling me into a Schubertiade. I mean, isn't this supposed to work the other way around?!?! I really don't know what happened. All three of my kids -- ALL THREE OF THEM -- are classical music afficionados, happily PAYING MONEY to go to the symphony.

I have to admit, though, that it was lovely. The performers were all dressed up, playing melodious things on pianos and stringed instruments (no synthesizers or electric guitars here). The student body sat all about the main floor of the library and on all the walkways that rise up from and surround the main floor of the library. Everybody was quite serious and respectful and quiet, as you would expect from properly raised young people. And -- okay -- the music was pretty good, I admit.

Bridget took us upstairs, since the main floor of the library was full. We were sitting on the third floor walkway, which overlooked the musicians below. And then...

It happened.

My elephant in the room moment.

In my purse was a zhu-zhu pet. Remember those? They were all the rage for a while. They were these little battery-powered hamsters that ran around and made a variety of cute noises. I had brought this zhu-zhu pet with me in order to cheer Bridget up because her grandpa had passed away, and she was sad. I didn't realize that it could turn itself on. Well... Maybe it didn't turn itself on, but something in my purse must have bumped up against it. And turned it on. On the third-floor walkway of the library, overlooking the main performance area of the Schubertiade, it started making all of its cute little squeaky, squealy noises inside of my purse. You could hear the little wheels going 'round and 'round. I reached into my purse to turn it off, but I couldn't figure out how. Zhu-zhu pets had something like 15 buttons, most of which were covered with "fur", and I couldn't find the one that would turn the thing off.

Down below me, a handsome young man in a tux sang away beautifully in a foreign language (I'm not sure which one), while a lovely young lady in a pretty dress elegantly accompanied him on a shiny black grand piano. I'm sure they could hear the squeals. I'm quite sure of it. But, they did not flinch. Neither did anybody else. Not really, anyway. Although, I did detect a few sly smiles from my kindred spirits in the audience. I was starting to get a bit desperate, though, so I pushed the elevator button. My goal was to toss it in there when the doors opened. Bridget, seeing what her mother was about to do, and realizing that the situation would only be made worse if the squealing, squeaking zhu-zhu pet were to ride up and down and up and down in the elevator during the amazing vocal performance that was concurrently taking place, grabbed the thing out of my hands and proceeded to hurry it down three flights of stairs and past all of her friends and teachers (to whom she had been so much looking forward to "showing off" her family). She looked so cute, cupping the little toy in her hands, quietly but quickly fleeing the scene. She kind of looked like Cinderella as she ran out of the ball. Now, more of the nice young people were overtly smiling and trying to stifle giggles. None of the faculty or staff looked amused, though. But, they were polite and pretended not to notice anything -- in the true Catholic tradition of charity towards tuition-paying parents.

I did not see anymore of what happened. But, Bridget tells me that when she finally got downstairs, the first door she got to was a fire exit, so she couldn't go out that one without setting off an alarm. She did find an alternate door and took the toy -- still making noise -- outside. I guess one kind faculty member saw her distress and -- thinking that she was holding a real live rodent -- went over to offer his assistance. That was very nice of him. Don't you think?

Anyhow, the Schubertiade continued on and was concluded without any further disruption. Everybody clapped politely and exited. Nobody said anything rude to me, or even acted as though anything unusual had taken place.

Was I embarrassed? Of course. But, over the years, I have learned that I am prone to causing embarrassing situations -- even when striving to the utmost to avoid them. I have found that it is really better for all involved if I just keep my cool.  So, I just laughed. And sent in a donation.


(Hop over here to read Bridget's side of the story)

The Homeschool Mom "Uniform" -- A New Twist

I was a homeschool mom for 13 years.  It was quite a bit of fun.  The only reason I stopped was because my youngest graduated from high school.  And no, I don't homeschool college.  Don't laugh, y'all.  There are some people who do.  But, that is not me.

Anyhow, for those of you who are (perhaps blissfully) unaware, there is a homeschool mom "uniform."  It's kind of a stereotype.  But, it's kind of true. 

And it is this:
     1. Denim Skirt -- midcalf or longer, non-form-fitting, often with an elastic waist.
     2. T-Shirt -- rather loose-fitting, often inscribed with a Catholic or Irish dance logo.
     3. Birkenstocks.

I do not mean to be poking fun at anybody here.  This is just the way it is.  Yes, it is a broad generalization.  A rather fair broad generalization, in my opinion.  And now somebody is going to call the ACLU on me.  ;-)

To tell you the truth, though, this "uniform" is rather practical.  It is well-suited for the, often simultaneous, tasks that homeschool moms must accomplish -- daily Mass, Latin lessons, nursing babies, cleaning up after toddlers, driving all over the county in a 12-seater van in order to properly socialize and enrich the kids, and cooking large vats of homegrown foods.  It can easily be worn both with or without a bra.  It is good for early pregnancy, post-partum, and menopause.  It doesn't matter what type of panties you put on under it.  You can even put shorts on under it, for those pick-up games of soccer your kids might talk you into.  It is also not very sexy, which can be a boon when you have seven children under the age of 10.  And it is complimented by all types of hairstyles -- long, short, and braids.

Anyway, upon looking at myself in the mirror today, I realized that I am wearing the homeschool mom "uniform," albeit with a little bit of a twist.  Perhaps it can be looked upon as the "uniform" for us retired homeschool moms.  Familiar enough to be comfortable, but also a bit edgy.  And non-comformist.  ALL homeschool moms are non-conformist.  That should be pretty clear when you read the paragraph above.  (And when you read the paragraph above, it should also be pretty clear that homeschool moms are NOT women to be messed with.  They are basically the same as femi-nazis, but with a slightly different worldview.)

So, I present to you -- the retired homeschool mom "uniform":
     1. Jersey Maxi Skirt -- from The Gap, rather form-fitting, navy blue and white striped, with a waistline that sits slightly below the navel.
     2. Harley Davidson t-shirt -- black, hip-length, a bit figure-hugging (but, not tight), emblazoned in gold lettering with the Harley-Davidson logo and various decorative designs.
     3. Nike flip-flops -- black, with gel soles. So comfy!
     4. A few (subtle) purple highlights in my brown hair.

A rather smooth fashion transition, don't you think, for us non-conformist, menopausal, retired, homeschool mom broads?  I think so.

Holy Thursday Memories

I was born in 1963, and grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, in the heart of what many would consider to be "liberal Catholic land."  For example, I was a teenager before I realized that "Blowin' In The Wind" and "Bridge Over Troubled Waters" were not originally written as official Mass music.  And the homily at my youngest sister's First Communion dealt with the complexity of moral decision-making.  Specifically, it addressed the topic of French kissing.  I found this quite fascinating and asked my parents straight-away -- as soon as we got home -- what French kissing was.  My father rolled his eyes.  My mom explained.  She was pretty forward-thinking.  My father was pretty forward-thinking, too, but he left certain subjects to my mom.

Our parish was on the small side -- in both building size and number of members -- and I feel that I was blessed by this.  Most of the parishioners considered each other to be friends, and we were all well-acquainted with the pastor and associate pastors.  The atmosphere was very warm and intimate.  The smaller size of our parish also allowed for many wonderful social occasions that felt more like family gatherings than official church functions.

One of these social occasions was the annual potluck dinner that was held in the church hall after the Holy Thursday Mass.  Right after the altar was stripped and the Holy Eucharist was moved to the Altar of Repose (in the sacristy behind the main altar), we all proceeded to the church hall for this meal.  It was great fun!  Everybody was in a festive spirit.  There were casseroles (which I adored) and salads of all types (including of jell-o, which I also adored).  There was punch and coffee and many kinds of desserts -- cakes and cookies and pies.  My favorite part was to make my way around the food tables after everybody was done eating, and busy chatting, and help myself to the radishes that nobody ate.  There were always MANY radishes.  And I ate them all.  I still love radishes.  And I still get them all, because nobody in my family cares for them.

Now, some of you may look at all this with a disapproving eye.  Because -- as all good, traditional Catholics know -- after the Holy Eucharist is moved to the Altar of Repose on Holy Thursday, everybody is supposed to be solemn and crowd into the room in front of the Holy Eucharist and pray.  The last thing there is supposed to be is a PARTY, for Heaven's sake!!!

Well, frankly, the Holy Thursday shenanigans at the progressive parish where I grew up turned out to be one of the very best things for the preservation of my faith over time.  Because -- sometimes -- I just get fed up and want to throw in the towel.  And when I do get fed up, I am always drawn to the following memory:

Every year, after polishing off the radishes, while everybody else was chatting up a storm, I would wander over to the Altar of Repose in the sacristy behind the main altar.  It would just be me -- all by my lonesome.  I began doing this when I was probably about 7 or 8 years old.  I had been well-instructed (by my progressive Catholic nun teacher, nonetheless) in the Church's theology of the Eucharist, and I believed (and I still do believe) in the Real Presence.  The Altar of Repose was always quite lovely.  There were candles and Easter lilies and lovely altar cloths.  There was a little kneeler in front of the whole thing.  The room was dark, except for the candlelight.  And I would kneel down, the sweet smell of the lilies filling the room.  And I would just be quiet and think about how Jesus was there right in front of me and how cool that was.  I would think about how He loved me and how we were just hanging out together.  Just Him and me.  And I would just feel calm.  And -- believe me -- I was not a calm little kid.  I was always sort of anxious.  My mom was seriously ill when I was fairly young, my dad had some significant work issues (that did work out over time, but were quite stressful when they were occurring), there was alcoholism amongst some of my extended family members, and certain people in my life could be rather fiery in their temperaments.  I also hated school.  As much as I loved my progressive nun teacher, I hated school.  Especially math.  So, just being quiet with Jesus in the candlelight and feeling calm inside was quite something.  I felt incredible peace -- maybe Divine peace.  I don't know.  All I know is I just knelt there and felt like Jesus was my friend, that He was on my side, that He would stick with me, no matter what.

So, when I get all fed up with what I see going on nowadays -- with the "holy" people bashing the "not holy enough" people, with all the judging, with the massive failings of the Church hierarchy -- and I want to just give up on the whole "formal religion" thing, I remember the times I spent with Jesus on Holy Thursday.  And I know -- I know for sure -- that no matter what, no matter how much I fall and fail and doubt, that He won't leave, that He won't look at me harshly, because He gets it.  He really does.  He gets all of us.  And He won't leave us alone.  This I know.  I know it for sure.  I know it because I learned it directly from Him on those Holy Thursdays spent all alone in front of the Altar of Repose.  After eating all the radishes.

Pax Christi.

A Lent Blog Post (Gag...)

I hate Lent blog posts.

For no good reason, except for the fact that they drive me crazy.

There are just WAY too many of them, filled with WAY too much advice.

And I end up getting all anxious.

Because I'm really not very good at Lent, at least in the way most "serious" Catholics think you should be good at Lent.

Because I am basically a wimpy candy-ass.

But, here I am, writing Lent blog post.

*headdesk*

Anyway...

When I was a little girl, I really loved Lent.

I went to Catholic school and we went to church and got ashes on Ash Wednesday.  Which was really fun, because afterwards, all us kids would compare ash marks.  We would talk about which priests gave the best ones and which priests got the ashes in your eyes and whose looked the most like crosses and whose would last the longest.  Us kids would also talk all about what we were giving up for Lent.  Some of us gave up chocolate and some of us gave up chewing gum and some of us gave up swearing and some of us gave up our favorite TV show.  I never gave up my favorite TV show, because for most of my childhood, it was "Emergency." And there was no friggin' way I was giving up "Emergency" for Lent.  I usually gave up chocolate.  On Fridays, all us Catholic school kids would compare lunches and see what meatless items our mothers has packed away for us.  Most of the kids had the usual -- peanut butter and jelly on Wonder Bread and tuna on wheat.  But, my mother, being who she was, would often pack such sandwich delicacies as deviled egg mixed with chopped olive or deviled egg mixed with canned shrimp.  These creations would inevitably result in various expressions of disgust from my Catholic school confreres, which greatly pleased me, because I have always been such a rebel contrarian.  (I learned to be a rebel contrarian in Catholic school, because I was picked on a lot in these institutions, and it was either that or knuckle under to the bullies.  And I was not one to knuckle under to the bullies.)

Lent was also a lot of fun in my house.  Spring was coming on and my dad would beautify the yard with his Italian gardening skills.  He would spruce up the house by scrubbing various dirty items -- like the stove and the barbecue -- and perhaps applying some paint.  My dad was a kick-ass cleaning person.  So was my mom.  And they knew how to make our house shine.  Perhaps they were a bit over-the-top in their cleaning enthusiasm, but I enjoyed the results.  And on the Fridays of Lent, my mom would cook the most amazing fried fish dinners.  She would pick us up from school and we would go by the fish market on the way home.  Yes, there was an actual fish market in our town.  You don't see many of those these days.  My mom would purchase filet of soul and oysters, which she would coat in a batter of flour and egg, frying them in her electric fry pan.  This wonderful fish would be served with tartar sauce she made herself and lemon wedges.  The sides would be fresh asparagus or artichokes, homemade mashed potatoes, and sourdough bread.  It was amazing.  To be honest, though, I couldn't stand the oysters.  But, I loved the filet of sole.  And since my parents both loved the oysters, and never forced them upon my sisters and me, all was well and happy.

Now, some of you may think that all of this doesn't sound very sacrificial and suffering-inducing.  And it probably wasn't.  And I think that's one of the reasons I grew up to love Jesus so much.  I always had very positive associations with Jesus and being Catholic and Lent.  Jesus was AWESOME and being Catholic was AWESOME and Lent was AWESOME!  In my childhood, anyway.

So, what am I giving up for Lent this year?

Lent blog posts.

And I am resolving to remember the Lents of my childhood -- full of family and fun and love and good food.

Pax. ;-)

God Is Not A Gumball Machine

You know what I mean?

This post is just my little old opinion.  I'm no theologian, or anything.

It just seems to me that, at times in life, we kinda expect God to be like a gumball machine.  Or a vending machine.  We want to put the right currency in and have delightful things come out.  We have a desire -- a good desire.  Or a need -- a real need.  Or a terrible situation that we want to see put aright.  So, we have our Masses said, we do our Novenas, we pray our Rosaries, we pray in our own sincere, heartfelt words -- our currency -- and we try to have true Christian hope that God will grant our petitions. 

Please don't get me wrong.  There's nothing wrong with any of that.  It's all good.

Sometimes, though, I see a little bit of a problem.

Sometimes, I see people fast and pray and do all the "right" things, and their prayers are answered according to their wishes.  They get the "gumball."  And people talk about how they got the desired outcome because of all these spiritual things they did, or because of their holiness, or because of their great faith.  Sometimes, people even encourage those who have a real need by telling them that if they just have faith enough that their prayer will be answered in the way they hope.  And when their prayer is answered "positively," everyone celebrates this great faith, the great spiritual efforts put forth.  Everyone talks about how good God is because the desired outcome was granted.

But, you know, plenty of times our prayers don't seem to be answered.  At least not in the way we want them to be.  There is plenty of effort by the "prayer warriors."  Nobody seems to be slacking off.  But, employment or health or the return of "prodigal" children does not happen.  And I kind of worry about this.  I worry that the people who don't have their prayers answered in the "right" way will feel that they did something wrong.  That somehow they are not deserving.  That God does not love them as much as He loves the people whose "wishes come true."

I think about this a lot.  And I began thinking about it more yesterday, because I read an article in which a Christian woman spoke about how many of her Christian friends and acquaintances became atheists because of the financial crisis.  They felt like they had done everything to the best of their ability to please God, and then He didn't seem to be holding up His end of the bargain when they lost so much -- jobs, homes, life savings -- in the economic crash. 

Now, I know plenty of people who have lost much, who don't seem to get their prayers answered, and they still have faith that God is there.  They have faith that He is using everything for their good.  But, it must be pretty tough for them when they see Christians rejoicing over someone else's good fortune, when they hear people talking about how good God is because he granted x, y, or z to someone.   I also wonder if, at times, people who want to be "good" Christians don't express their hurt and disappointment in the way God seems to be treating them, because they don't want to set a bad example for others.  They don't want to give scandal.  So, I think -- perhaps -- that there are times when people try to have faith, or try to give an outward impression of having faith, when they are really struggling inside and the rest of us just can't see it.

What to do?  I don't really know.  I guess I have just come to a place in my life where I feel that the only real alternative -- the only way for me to have faith -- is just to speak to God honestly.  I try to speak to Him about my life and others' lives, what I like and don't like, where I am happy and where I am disappointed.  I just lay it all out for Him.  And then I try to trust that He is there.  I try to trust that He loves me and everybody else, too.  I ask Him to get us all home to Him, somehow.  And I try not to talk too incredibly much in the face of other people's pain.  Because, in wanting to help somebody out, I can really talk too much.  So, now, I'm trying to be quieter, to just listen more, to just be there.  I don't talk about all the prayers we should do or the faith we should have or even how I trust God to send a good outcome.  I don't say, "I trust that God will fully heal so-and-so of their cancer." (Believe me, I have heard people say such things.)  Because I don't know that God will do that.  But, I do believe God is with us and loves us.  I don't always understand why He allows what He allows.  And I'm not going to pretend that I do.  I'm not going to put on an act.  So, I will just try to be present to those who are hurting, and I will just try to trust in the presence of God.  And I will trust Him to handle it when I get annoyed with Him for allowing crap to happen in the world.  He's big enough for that. 

Young People And Sexual Issues

Today, a very lovely young woman posted an article to Facebook.  It dealt with the topic of Christian young people and the sexual issues they face -- regarding such things as sexual development, sexual identity, sexual activity, and pornography.  The article encouraged parents not to be fools, not to be in denial about the possibility of their own kids struggling in these areas. 

There are times when I think that Catholic/Christian young people have it harder than more secular young people when it comes to growing up and dealing with issues of sexuality.  After all, if you are a Catholic/Christian teen or young adult, and you are going to church and are active in church-organized youth activities, it is expected that you are "holy" and "wholesome."  People often assume that you aren't sexually active in any way, shape, or form.  And you can be ashamed if you realize that you aren't meeting these often unfair and, possibly, unreasonably high expectations.  This shame will most likely cause you to not communicate about these issues honestly with your parents, for example.  So, it is the parents' job to be aware of the fact that their kids are sexual beings, in the midst of becoming sexual adults, and they might need an ear, some understanding, and some help.

And I don't mean by this that if you catch your kid masturbating that you should drag him (or her) off to Confession and never let him (or her) close his (or her) bedroom door again, figuring that you have solved the problem. 

Okay.  Now a bunch of you are probably mad at me.  I don't mean to belittle the proper use of Confession.  Confession -- especially with the help of a kind, understanding, and wise priest (like Father Cornelius Buckley) -- is a comforting and wonderful thing.  But, I have seen -- at least at times -- Catholics and other Christians oversimplifying the whole issue of sexual development in young people.  It's not that I feel that I'm all-wise and all-knowing in this area.  But, these are just some of the things I have figured out along the way, starting from my experiences as the tutor for the Human Sexuality class in college and continuing on through my experiences as a young single woman, a young married woman, a mom, an older married woman, and a friend of people who are single/married/straight/gay/etc.  I am not speaking for the Church here.  These are only my opinions and what has worked for me.  Take it or leave it, as you will.

First of all, I have seen a movement in certain Catholic/Christian circles that basically attempts to ban all possibility of "errant" sexual activity amongst young people by not allowing any dating until it is for the sole purpose of marriage -- and then calling it courting, with a bunch of strict rules in place.  This movement also  discourages most (if not all) physical affection between "courting" couples.  (Some young people are even encouraged to refrain from kissing until their wedding day.  Frankly, if I had to go from not even kissing a guy to full-on sexual intercourse in one day, I would have been totally freaked out and overwhelmed.  But, that's just me.)  Some religious groups are also telling young women that they must be totally chaste -- in mind, body, and spirit -- in all of their relationships with young men, telling them that they are the sexual standard-bearers of society.  These young ladies are given the message that they are failing if they think of men in a sexual way, thus perhaps tempting these poor, weak guys who aren't expected to have any sexual self-control of their own.  Until, of course, these young women get married.  Then they are expected to figure out how to chastely satisfy the sexual needs of their husbands.  I have read articles by some of the young women who have been raised in this manner -- women who love God very much and who want to be good Christians -- and they explain how this, essentially, "screwed them up."

Now a bunch more of you are probably mad at me.  That's cool.  Also, I admit, there are happy young people who have been raised in this very strict way.  I am also not trying to say -- in any way, shape, or form -- that young people should be encouraged or allowed to just "have at it" with each others' bodies.  And that is another extreme which some schools of thought seem to favor.

So, what do I actually think is helpful to young people who are trying to become mature adults -- sexually, as well as in all other ways?

I think it is our responsibility, as parents, to help our kids create well-rounded and satisfying lives, beginning in early childhood.  How can we help our kids succeed academically, develop their areas of interest (such as athletics or the arts), and have happy social lives?  How can we make our homes and families places where our kids feel loved, supported, and nurtured?  If we pay attention to these things, it will probably help to forestall many potential problems our kids might face -- not only in the area of sexuality, but in other areas, as well.

I think we must also accept that a certain amount of sexual curiosity and exploration are normal for teenagers and young adults.  My friend and I used to find and read all the "sexy parts" in our moms' "bodice-ripper novels."  My sister and her friends found somebody's hidden stash of "Playboy" magazines and looked through them.  None of us went on to develop a pornography addiction.  Why?  Because when we told our mothers about our little "discoveries," they did not over-react.  They reacted calmly, with good humor.  They also gave us good examples of how to be as women by how they actually behaved as wives and in their relationships with men.  In short, they helped us keep these things in perspective.  I suppose one of the thing my own mother did which I found especially helpful was how she talked to us about the sex in movies, TV, and books.  Because, frankly, as much as some people protest, these things aren't going to go away.  My mother made it a point to talk to us about "real-life" sex, and how it compared to and contrasted with the sex onscreen and in print.  She gave us a view of sex which was real, without coming down on us for having normal, girlish imaginations. 

And what if you do happen to catch your teenager in some sexual situation to which you object?  First of all, stay calm.  If you lose it, you'll probably just make things worse.  Give your child the time and space to disengage himself from the activity with dignity.  Before talking to your child, ask yourself, "Is this activity within the realm of normal sexual development for a person of this age group?"  After asking yourself this question, speak with your teen.  But, don't humiliate your child.  Treat him or her with dignity and understanding.  And -- this is just my opinion -- do not, under any circumstances, scare your child with threats of going to hell.  Hell is a pretty serious thing, reserved for those who commit grievous actions with full knowledge and consent.  Teenagers and young adults have a lot of stuff going on developmentally, so even if you believe what your kid was doing was a big sin, there is a good possibility that the conditions for full culpability did not exist.  And, in any case, I have not usually found threats of hell all that effective in the raising of kids.  I have never done it myself, but I have seen it done, often with poor outcomes.  A quiet manner, a listening ear, and an understanding heart are usually much more helpful.

I know this has been very rambling and long.  If you have stuck it out, I appreciate your time.  If I lost you along the way, that is perfectly understandable.  Again, these are just my thoughts.  I don't claim to be any kind of font of wisdom.  Pax.    
  



 

A Little Reflection

This is just a little reflection about something that I have been... well... reflecting on lately.

There is a wonderful priest at our parish.  He is older, and full of wisdom and life experience.  I love his homilies.  They always leave me feeling peaceful.  A few weeks ago he said (I was so impressed that I wrote it down in my checkbook register during his homily), "Sin is that which causes enmity between people."  And then he said, "War is rooted in sin."

This started me thinking about the wars of the current century, including the so-called "Culture War."  And I wondered if, in this "Culture War," the "issues" that we are all so concerned about are not the things which are of primary importance to us, either as Christians or as people of good will who do not call themselves "Christians."  It hit me that, perhaps, what we need to be concerned about most is the enmity that has arisen in our country among people of differing viewpoints.  Maybe what we need to really pay attention to is the way our opinions -- even about important things -- cause us to view one another and treat one another.  So, if your neighbor -- and I am speaking of "neighbor" in the sense that Jesus did -- is a Democrat and you are a Republican, you need to treat that neighbor with respect and charity.  You need to treat his or her opinions -- which he or she holds as dear as you hold yours -- with respect and charity.  Because, at least according to the wonderful priest who gave this inspiring homily, our sin can be looked upon as having its beginnings in our lack of loving kindness in our attitudes, words, and actions towards others.  Because it is this lack of loving kindness that leads to enmity between people.  It is this lack of loving kindness that leads to war, including "Culture War."

And when the "bad guy downstairs" sees us fighting, full of impatience and intolerance and anger and hate, I bet he is laughing his ugly little ass off.  Because we are playing right into his ugly little hands.  Even when -- and maybe especially if -- we are convinced that our opinions are the morally correct ones.

So, let's pray a little bit for peace.  Peace in our own hearts and minds.  Peace with our neighbor -- whatever his or her religious or political ideology might be.

Mrs. Elizabeth Foss's Blog Post Of Today

*Note:  If you read my last post and are wondering if I was talking about you, I probably wasn't. ;-) *

I enjoy reading the blog of Mrs. Elizabeth Foss.  It is interesting, insightful, and -- often -- funny.  In today's post, she spoke about human relationships.  She spoke, in particular, about how to get along with people who are different than you, people who may make you uncomfortable, people with whom you may not see eye-to-eye, or even like very much.

To summarize, she advocates (and I agree with her) being gracious to these kinds of people.  For, she explains, if you act graciously you may even begin to have actual feelings of graciousness.  If you behave towards someone as if you like him or her, you may find that you do come to like that person.  It also seems that some people disagree with Mrs. Foss, because they feel that she is advocating a type of dishonesty.  In my opinion, this is silly.  She is just saying that people should be tactful, polite, and humble.

I'm going to add my own two cents here, though.  (I'm really good at that. Right?)  In behaving well towards people who are very different than you, it is important to be sincere.  What do I mean by "sincere?"  I mean that you must honestly believe that this person with whom you may disagree on many important things may actually have something to say to you -- something worthwhile.  You have to have the conviction that even if you are, say,  a faithful Catholic or Christian or whatever, that someone on the "other side of the fence" might enlighten you a little.  Maybe you won't change your opinion.  Maybe you will still believe wholeheartedly in whatever it is you believe in.  That's fine.  But, hearing another side to an argument -- sincerely and truly hearing it -- might help you to become a more charitable person, a person with a softer heart.  And if that person "on the other side of the fence" feels heard -- and I mean sincerely and truly heard -- that may help him or her come to understand you better.  Now, do I mean that you should be kind and respectful to people of "different stripes" so that you can fix "the error of their ways?"  Absolutely not.  I am saying that you should be kind and respectful because it is the right thing to do -- because this is what it means grant people their basic human dignity.  It is also important to be sincere in dealing with others because, frankly, most people can tell if you're "faking it."  And "faking it" -- in all types of human intercourse -- just leads to bad feelings all around.

Oh, and let's all try having a sense of humor.  If you are a conservative, try laughing at one liberal joke a day.  If you are a liberal, try laughing at one conservative joke a day.  The results may pleasantly surprise you. :D

Do Not Judge

St. Monica's Catholic Church in Santa Monica is pretty much my favorite church, ever.  I have only been privileged to attend Mass there three times -- in the summer of 1992 or '93 (I can't remember exactly) and twice this year.  The first time I went to Mass at St. Monica's, I was basically holding onto my faith by a thread.  Or, perhaps I had let go and Jesus was just holding onto me.  The times I attended Mass there this year, my faith was also at kind of a low point.  Not as low as in the early '90's -- but low, nevertheless.

Why does my faith hit these low points?  I'm not really sure.  I mean, I understand my faith and I believe in it.  It makes sense to me.  I love the Lord.  At times, though, I get sensitive about certain things.  There are teachings which, at times, seem too hard.  There are people who sometimes seem too difficult to deal with.  Occasionally, the sheer number of people in the church building gets to me.  I get tired of the bickering -- of the "orthodox" Catholics lashing out at the "progressive" Catholics, and vice-versa.  There are times when I get annoyed with the hierarchy for getting (it seems to me) a bit too political and saying things that appear to me to be unhelpful in human relationships.  For example, I do not like this whole "culture war" thing.  I am not going to get into a "culture war" with anybody.  But, that is another post.

But, when I really think about it, my perception of my own shortcomings -- my own sins -- and my inability to conquer them is maybe one of the things that most deeply and negatively affects my faith.  Especially -- most especially -- when I am often in the company of "holy" people.  What do I mean by "holy" people?  People who are constantly talking about the sins of others, the sins of society, the sins of the Church.  People who talk about Democrats and how bad they are.  People who talk about "pro-choicers" and how bad they are.  People who talk about gay marriage and how bad it is.  People who go on and on about "liturgical abuses."  People who criticize the English Mass or the Latin Mass or OCP.  People who yammer on about the "evils" of Praise and Worship music at Mass.  It is when I am around a lot of this kind of talk that I just feel like becoming Episcopalian.  Why?  Because I realize that I am worse, deep down, than any of the Democrats, or "pro-choicers" or OCP publishers.  And then I just feel like a crap Catholic.  And then I get depressed and want to jump right off the ship that is the Catholic Church.

It is at these times, though, that the Lord -- in His great Mercy -- has seen fit to get me into the pews of St. Monica's.  The most recent time was on Mothers' Day of this year.  My husband, two of my kids, and I attended the Sunday evening Mass.  We were on our way to a Monday wedding in Santa Paula, so as we were enroute there from San Diego on Sunday afternoon, it happened to work out that we could go to St. Monica's.  It was lovely.  There is the most wonderful choir/band at that particular Mass.  And all the moms -- and some of you will not like this -- were invited to go up and stand around the Altar during the Consecration.  It was amazing.  It was happy.  It was prayerful.  And it was also very cool, because you get a wonderful view of the instrumentalists from the Sanctuary and they are stupendous.  All us moms held hands and prayed.  We also got roses -- beautiful roses with no thorns that must have been extremely expensive.  And even though some of this involves a little "pushing of the liturgical envelope," I felt at peace and loved by God.  And I wondered why I felt this way, and this is what I realized.

I realized that when I go to St. Monica's, I feel no judgement.  No judgement from the priest or any of the people.  I feel welcomed.  And it is not the kind of no judgement and welcome that is prideful, that involves a rejection of the idea of "sin" or wrongdoing.  I have gone to parishes where they try to be non-judgmental, but it is a kind of non-judgement that is more the fruit of wanting to deny the reality that we are fallen creatures.  I don't like that, either.  I know I am fallen and that I do wrong.  At St. Monica's, the feeling of not being judged, of being made welcome, seems to come more from a spirit of true HUMILITY.  The acknowledgement that nobody is really better or more worthy than anybody else.  There is the feeling that we are all in this together and that God loves us and accepts us as we are.  And in this humble love, it is easier to quietly and humbly acknowledge my own faults and my own sins.  Because I am not so busy being defensive.  Because that's it sometimes, I think.  When I am surrounded by "scribes and pharisees," I start to feel defensive.  I curl up in a ball or retreat into my protective shell.  But, if I am treated with love by people who are humble, it is easier to be humble.  That makes it easier to acknowledge my wrongdoing to myself and to God.  And that makes it easier to accept His forgiveness and His healing.  It makes it easier to not despair when I fall into the same crap over and over again -- which I inevitably do.

So, when I go to St. Monica's, I know that I am a sinner.  But, I receive hope anew that God -- and the people who truly love Him -- take me as I am and will help me to go forward to a better place.  I am not tempted to give up on myself or on others or even on our society.  And I am not tempted to jump off the ship, anymore.

If you are ever in Santa Monica, I would encourage you to attend Mass at this wonderful parish.  You can also visit their website, where they livestream the Sunday evening Mass and where you can watch Masses from previous weeks.

Mercy Sunday, Lena Dunham, And The Missiles Of Righteous Wrath

Today, for Catholics, is Mercy Sunday.  It is a time for remembering and celebrating the mercy of God.  And for reflecting on how we should show mercy to others.

This has gotten me to thinking about Twitter.  I love Twitter.  I have "met" (if you can call it that) many wonderful people there.

When I first started using Twitter, I naturally followed some Catholic and Christian stay-at-home mom types.  I figured we would have things in common.  I also followed some artsy people -- cinematographers and directors and actors and producers and writers.  I find that world quite fascinating, even though I don't consider myself to be very creative.  And most of the people I have encountered on Twitter have been delightful and kind and funny and interesting.  I have greatly enjoyed their "company."

I am going to describe an interesting experience I had, though.  I hope nobody takes this as an insult, or anything.  It is just an experience I had that caused me to reflect, and I think it is relevant to the whole idea of mercy.

Around election time, back in the fall, many people's opinions were being tossed around all over Twitter.  There were liberal opinions and conservative opinions and moderate opinions.  Of course, being a Catholic, I was reading opinions of the other Catholic and Christian stay-at-home moms.  I was also being exposed to the opinions of the people those moms were listening to, by virtue of the "retweet" option on Twitter.  And some of those opinions had to do with a young lady by the name of Lena Dunham.  She had done an ad for the Obama campaign, the aim of which was to encourage young people to vote.  She compared voting for the first time to having sex for the first time.

And the Catholic and Christian and conservative people pretty much went apoplectic over this ad.  Interested by their vociferous Tweets, I Googled the ad and watched it for myself.  And I giggled.  Well, I pretty much laughed really, really hard.

I then went back and sent a Tweet to a couple of the Catholic ladies telling them that I thought the ad was kind of funny.  I didn't mean any offense, or anything.  Then hell proceeded to rain down upon me from the Catholic/conservative corners of the Twittersphere.  I sort of didn't expect that.  I thought we could all have our opinions and be respectful of each other.  I thought we could try to see each others points of view.  I thought we could all have a SENSE OF HUMOR.  Well, I was wrong.

I felt sort of bad for making these poor moms stressed out with my opinion of Lena's ad.  A lot of these moms have many kids and homeschool and are quite tired, so I didn't intend to further complicate their lives with my obviously misguided thoughts.

This whole thing got me thinking, though, about kindness and mercy.  Especially where Christians are concerned.

Now, as a Christian, I probably have most of the same ideas about sexual morals as these people who fired their Missiles Of Righteous Wrath down on me.  And how did these Missiles Of Righteous Wrath make me feel?  On the one hand, I was kind of amused.  On the other hand, I felt a little angry.  Why?  Because, as Christians, we have to think about how our words and actions and attitudes towards people -- even actors -- will affect them.  If you hope that somebody will come to see and feel God's love, it is not helpful if you just shit (pardon my French) all over that person and his/her opinions.  I mean, if I were Lena and I read some of the stuff religious people were saying about me and my ad, I would just think to myself, "Screw those self-righteous people.  Long live the HHS mandate!"  I would not be thinking about how I really wanted to go to Church now and socialize with all the Church people at their Church festival.  I would get as far away as I possibly could from them and all their self-righteous ways.  And, as I recall, Jesus himself did not care too much for the self-righteous, for the hypocrites.  In fact, he tended to go to a lot of parties with a lot of people who were probably a lot like Lena Dunham.  Because -- you know what?  People like that are the people with the hearts yearning for love.  They are the people with the open hearts.  They are the people who yearn for fairness and justice.  They are also a lot of fun.  And I think Jesus liked to have fun, or he wouldn't have been going to all these parties. 

Please don't misunderstand me here.  I am NOT saying that you should be kind to people, that you should befriend them, because you want to convert them.  That is NOT what I am saying.  I have had people befriend me for that reason and, trust me, it did not feel good.  That is not friendship.   A friendship is based on mutual acceptance.  It is unconditional.  It exists in spite of differences.  It respects and appreciates differences.

So, saying that, I hope my little diatribe has not been too offensive.  And may we all reflect, on this beautiful Feast of Mercy, on how we can be a little kinder, a little more loving -- a little more merciful.

P.S. -- If you look at the people I follow on Twitter, in order to find the offending parties written about herein, you will not succeed.  

Faith, Hope, Love, Young People -- And "The O.C."

If you read my blog, you probably realize that my mind contains a rather large jumble of things all being shaken up together -- Catholicism, mom stuff, wife things, homemaking, teaching, music, TV, movies, philosophy, politics...  Sometimes, a bunch of this stuff blends together into an image in my imagination, which I want to express here, but the transition from what's in my head to the written word can be rather difficult.  So, here I go...

Today, I have been reflecting on TV, music, modern life, youth, and faith.  Specifically, how modern shows like "The O.C." and its music speak to and about young people -- their hearts and their faith -- their seeking for what is worthy of belief.  And how can we, as parents, teachers, and adults, help them on their way?

First, I should probably say something about my philosophy of TV and movie watching with my kids.  I allowed my children -- who are now 24, 22, and 20 years old -- to view many different types of things as they grew up.  I didn't make decisions about what they could watch based, necessarily, on language, sexual content, and violence.  Although, I did take these into consideration.  I was careful not to overwhelm their senses with images they weren't ready for developmentally.  The fast-forward/scene-skipping buttons on the remote came in pretty handy here.  What I mainly looked for were stories that were well-told, that meant something, which we could use as a springboard for discussion and further learning.  A few of the movies and TV shows my kids most enjoyed were probably the following:  "Top Gun", "Jerry Maguire", "Band of Brothers", "Pearl Harbor", "The Lord of the Rings" triology, and "JAG".  More recently, we have enjoyed together "Numb3rs", "Angel", "SouthLAnd", and "The O.C."

Now, as for watching "The O.C."  My kids didn't see this when it originally aired.  This wasn't a conscious decision on my part.  We were just involved in other things at the time, and this show didn't appear on our radar.  Although, my kids -- at least my older two -- were probably in the original target audience for the original air dates.  So, I ask myself if I would have been ok with them watching it when they were actually in high school, as it does contain a fair amount of sexuality and other soap-opera-like drama.  I was talking about this with my older daughter and I ended up saying, "Well, I probably would have let you watch it.  And I would have watched it with you.  But, I would have said one simple thing -- 'If you act like the kids on that show, you WILL get pregnant.'"  She laughed, and did not disagree.

We actually started watching "The O.C." because we were watching "SouthLAnd" and learned that Ben McKenzie (Officer Sherman on "SouthLAnd") had done this other show.  I, therefore, ordered the first season of "The O.C." on DVD, just for kicks.  I wasn't going to order the other seasons.  Then we all got hooked and some Hollywood people made some money off me.  Money they earned well, I must say.

After watching all four seasons of "The O.C." and listening to the music chosen for the show, I have been having some wistfully philosophical thoughts, as I am want to do.  Whoever chose the music for that show has epic talent.  The writing, acting, and music all come together to really tug on your heartstrings.  And for me, as a mom -- and a person for whom youth is not too far distant a memory -- it tugs on my heartstrings in a special way.  I do not say to myself, "Young people are a hopeless, immoral, faithless mess; and the world is going to hell in a hand basket."  Instead, I have the following thoughts:

It seems to me that "The O.C." -- and many other movies and television shows of interest to youth -- reflect a real seeking on the part of young people.  Yes, these kids may be rebellious and do things that defy common sense, but that is the nature of this age group.  It always has been.  And if you don't believe me, read the Old Testament and Aristophanes.  But, there is more to these kids than trouble making and sex drive.  Their hearts do contain a real desire to love and be loved, to be part of families they can count on, to be involved in friendships where they can rest their hearts and be understood, to know the truth about things (even religious things).  But, they don't want to be preached at.  They don't want to feel constrained.  They want to be listened to and really heard.  They want to be trusted.  And they don't want to be judged.  They also don't really care to judge.  One of the most wonderful things about young people, in my opinion, is their capacity for compassion and understanding, their open minds. 

So, what should we -- as the adults in the equation -- do with this?  I think it is helpful to recall our own experience of being young.  When I remember my own youth, it helps me to observe, listen to, and talk with my own kids with an open heart and without so much of a need to immediately "fix" all their "faults".  I realize that -- if there are any ways in which I have improved as a person over the years -- experience (combined with words of wisdom from wise people) has often been the best teacher.  My father said one heck of a lot of smart stuff to me.  But, I have often not recalled his advice until I have experienced the pain of not heeding it. 

But, you might say, we want to spare our children the suffering and scars of making mistakes.  Believe me, so do I.  Has there ever been, though, in the history of the world, a person who has not "sinned"?  A person with no scars?  I don't think so.  I ask myself, therefore, "Am I not being prideful in thinking that my own kids -- under my ever-so-superior tutelage -- are going to be perfect?"  Haha.

Therefore, I will just try to walk with them and talk with them along the way.  I will try to be gentle.  I will attempt to remember that I need to let go -- little-by-little -- and let them make their own decisions.  My mother-in-law is especially good at this, so I will try to follow her example.  Her own five kids -- good people all -- have done some really crazy-ass things over the years, as I'm sure they would admit.  And she has not always remained silent.  But, after she has spoken her peace, she does the whole "live and let live" thing extremely well.  Hat tip to you, Gail...  And how does she do this?  Well, she ACTUALLY DOES trust God to love her kids and take care of them, even better than she can.  And she sees the virtue in each of her children, all the time. 

So, maybe this is what my heart is feeling when reflecting on youth and the things they enjoy watching and listening to.  These young people want us to see their virtue.  They want us to see the virtue in others.  They get tired of us constantly pointing out to them what is wrong -- with them, with people they like and admire, with the world.  They want to see the positive, to have hope for the future.  And they want us to do the same.  If we are people of faith, especially, they want us to demonstrate that we actually do trust in God by our love and compassion and positive outlook, not by our constant negative judgements and fearful statements about the future of our country and the world.  Our youth want us to BE WITH them along the way.  And then, perhaps, they will truly learn from us anything we have that is actually worth teaching.

"The O.C.", My Father, And My Jewish Brother-In-Law

Yeah.  Here I go again with "The O.C."  I do admit that TV shows and movies often cause me to reflect on things in my own life.  And those things show up on my blog.

I guess one of the factors that causes me to have the "warm fuzzies" when watching "The O.C." is the fact that the Cohens are a family of mixed religions -- a Jewish father and a Christian mother.  And I really enjoy how the Jewish creator of the show -- Josh Schwartz -- has instilled in the marriage of these characters such great love and respect.  This is especially significant to me as my sister -- a Catholic -- is married to a Jewish man.

My two sisters and I were raised in a very Catholic environment, by very Catholic parents.  My father always explained to us that marrying someone of the same faith would probably be easier in the long run, because -- as he told us -- "there will be enough things to fight about, without fighting about your religion."  Pretty practical and sensible, right?  My father never indulged in deep philosophical reasoning about how you should live your life.  He always had very down-to-earth reasons for why he did what he did.

Anyway, my sisters and I never "left the Church."  Our faith has always been a central part of our lives.  I married a very serious Catholic man.  One of my sisters has not married, but is a kick-ass kindergarten teacher.  And my youngest sister (Gina), when she was about 29 or 30 years old, began to date a Jewish man named Aaron, and they married a few years later.

Now, my dad could have flipped out about Gina and Aaron and the fact that Aaron was not only not Catholic, but not Christian, either.  In fact, Aaron is a rather agnostic individual.  But, my dad always said, "You tell your kids your opinions about marriage before they fall in love.  Then, you accept their decisions."  And that is just what he did with Gina and Aaron.  And my dad's relationship with Aaron, before my dad passed away, was an inspiring good example for everyone.  My father became one of Aaron's closest friends and confidantes.  They took piano lessons together.  They often went out for breakfast.  And they talked about any and all subjects -- including those where they had some serious disagreements (faith, religion, and politics) -- without any hard feelings.  In fact, they enjoyed their spirited discussions and would always end up laughing.  And when Aaron's father would come out from Philadelphia to visit, he would join Aaron and my dad in their discussions and adventures.  Aaron's father actually delivered a eulogy at my father's funeral.  He said that even though their religions were different, they shared the same values in the areas of friendship and family life.  And he spoke of how he would so much miss my father, who had become his close friend.

 I will not say that Gina and Aaron's road to the altar was an entirely easy or smooth one.  Her Catholic faith remained (and still remains) important to her.  And Aaron was no doormat about his opinions, either.  Once, he presented Gina with a 12-page list of his objections to the Catholic Church.  She sat and patiently (or, maybe, not-so-patiently) went through the list line-by-line and responded to each item.  Through it all, though, my father was gracious and supportive of their relationship.  He encouraged Gina to stand up for what she believed.  But, he also encouraged Aaron to express himself.  And then he trusted that they would make a wise decision.

Their wedding, in the end, was celebrated in a Catholic church with a Chuppah on the altar.  Both a deacon and a rabbi officiated.  The "Ave Maria" was sung, as well as some wonderful Jewish music. One of the cool things about their wedding preparations -- and one of the things I found most inspiring -- was my father's sensitivity to the Jewish guests' possible feelings about being in a church with a crucifix.  Jewish people can be rather sensitive about crucifixes, as they have often been wrongfully and unfairly accused of killing Jesus, resulting in a lot of serious anti-semitism.  So, my father brought Aaron's parents to the church well before the scheduled wedding date.  He wanted them to check it out and have the opportunity to express their feelings about whether or not they and their friends and family members would be comfortable there.  Aaron's parents graciously gave their blessing for the wedding ceremony to be celebrated in that church building.

Gina and Aaron have been married for 11 years now.  They have a beautiful son and daughter.  Their children are being raised as Catholics, but the Jewish Sabbath and holy days and seasons are also observed in their home.  The children are learning to love and respect the faiths of both of their parents, primarily because Gina and Aaron respect each others' faiths.  And it is lovely to hear their little girl chant the prayer before meals in the Hebrew language.

So, when I watch "The O.C.", the relationship of Sandy Cohen and his wife and the way they treat others -- regardless of faith or politics -- reminds me a lot of the mixed-religion marriage within my own extended family.  And I am grateful for people who are gracious and grace-filled enough to make such a thing work.   And I am grateful for artists like Josh Schwartz, who are able to paint a beautiful picture for us of such a relationship.  For art can and should reflect truths about us and what we are capable of doing -- both the sweet and the salt.

Oh.  I also must say that it was great fun to hear my father tell people -- rather proudly -- that he had a son-in-law who "is one of the Chosen People."

Let Us Strive Not To Let Things...

...Be Our "Undoing."

Today, I read on someone's blog that a certain political ad had been her "undoing."  As this statement was a bit on the dramatic side, it got my attention and caused me to reflect.

Over the years, I have gone through many stages.  I don't have an extremely stable outlook on life.  Perhaps this is a bad thing, but it has also been an interesting ride.  I have gone from being a Reagan conservative to a liberal feminist to a Rush Limbaugh fan;  from a devout Catholic to a person who wanted to join the Anglican Church to a Latin Mass aficionado; from a public school teacher to a homeschool mom.  I have been on both sides of the political and religious spectrum.  Right now, I am pretty much in the middle.  I think that Ellen DeGeneres is the funniest woman on the planet.  I don't think the Catholic Church should be forced to pay for medical insurance that provides services that go against its teachings.  But, I also cheer on Ben McKenzie as he travels the country encouraging people to vote.  Yes, he's encouraging them to vote for Obama, but at least he is a classy guy.  And, even though I think Romney has a lot of good ideas, that whole 47% thing really, really pissed me off.  But, Obama's "guns and religion" comment from the last campaign pissed me off, too.

So, as you see, I am a person who is difficult to pigeon-hole.  Maybe I should be on meds...  Whatever.

Now -- back to the "undoing" thing.

How do we not allow other people and their opinions to be our "undoing?"

By looking for the virtue that most people have.  I am not talking about homicidal, child-molesting sociopaths here.  I am talking about your regular, mostly law-abiding citizens.  And, by and large, these regular, law-abiding citizens have within them goodness.  Seek out that goodness.  Appreciate it.  Enjoy it.  And try to stand, and I mean really stand, in the shoes of "the other" before casting judgment.  Before letting "the other" and his/her opinions be your "undoing."

I mean, even if you don't agree, can't you understand why a lot of people would think that it is only fair to allow gay people to marry?  I understand this.  And -- to risk being "excommunicated" -- there are some advantages I see to having gay marriage be legal.  When I was a young woman, living near San Francisco, the AIDS epidemic was in full swing.  And a lot of this epidemic was brought about because of people having sex that probably didn't involve a lot of commitment.  By allowing gay people to marry, the more conservative among us could figure it this way -- "at least the gay people are now being encouraged by our societal laws to form truly loving and lasting relationships." I also read the 2012 Democratic Platform yesterday.  And I discovered within it a statement that churches would not be forced to perform marriage ceremonies that go against their beliefs.  That's right.  I bet a lot of us didn't know this.

And on the other side of things, I hope the more liberal among us can see -- even if they don't agree -- that religious people might take it as a violation of their freedom to have to provide insurance coverage for contraceptives to their employees.  I mean, last time I checked, condoms were not that expensive and didn't require a prescription.  Yes, I have bought condoms.  They make great water balloons.  And yes, condoms are a bit of an effort to use as compared to some of the birth control methods that do require a prescription.  But at least, dear ladies, with condoms your eggs are not being used as the "chattel of the pharmaceutical companies" (favorite O.C. quote ever). 

With that being said, I really don't believe that Obama and his people are actively trying to persecute us religious folks with the "contraceptive mandate."  I think they are actually sincere in their ideas that this law is necessary for ensuring the well-being of women.  We may have a legitimate debate about how to define and bring about the true well-being of women in our society and in the world.  But, I am willing to concede that the Democrats truly want the best for women, so I am not going to villify their motivations.

So, as this election season -- thank the Good Lord -- draws to a close, I hope we will choose to see the good in others.  I hope that we will not jump to hasty and unfair conclusions about the motives of the "other side."  In my life (and this will probably be another blog post on another day), I have often been treated the most kindly by people with ideas that are very different from my own.  So, when I am tempted to become impatient and irritated at "wrong" ideas, I call this to mind.  And then I don't become "undone" -- by anyone or anything.  Usually, anyway. ;-)

Monday Morning Almanac

There is a lovely Catholic mom who is named Elizabeth Foss. She has a blog that I love; and she always does these Monday Morning Almanac things. So, I thought I would try it, too. But, I am a little different than her -- so, my post will be different, too... Hope you enjoy!

I FIND MYSELF:

*Noticing God's Glory:  There is algae growing in my doughboy pool and in my birdbath. There is a gigantic orange spider living in its intricate web on the sliding door which leads from my kitchen to my back yard. And there is a 15-foot ant trail going from the outside of the house, through the garage, under the wall that is between the garage and the inside of the house, and into the downstairs bathroom. Once inside the bathroom, the ants circle around its perimeter and go back out the way they came in.  Now, if you really study these things, instead of just trying to kill them off -- you cannot possibly freaking tell me that their is no God. No offense, or anything...

*Listening To:  Van Halen. There is no better way to keep the passion alive in your marriage than by listening to Van Halen, either by yourself or with your spouse. People could save a lot of money on marriage counseling if they realized this simple fact. Rock on, Eddie...

*Clothing Myself In:  Tennis shoes that have holes in them. Jeans that, though they may not be perfectly sexy, fit. A yellow cotton LL Bean t-shirt. And a pink hoodie with navy blue stripes around the cuffs, waistband, and the inside of the hood. I look like an Easter egg on top. But, after I shower, I will put on one of my Harley shirts...

*Talking With My Daughters About:  How dudes sometimes suck, but that there are also plenty of nice ones. My advice to them is to find one of the nice ones -- one of the nice ones who is also hot. I mean, why sell yourself short?

*Talking With My Son About:  Army ROTC and how cool the whole military thing is. I refuse to be one of those nervous nelly moms, as that attitude would not be in conformity with my Van Halen-listening, Harley-t-shirt wearing persona.

*Thinking And Thinking:  About sex. Yeah. I'm Italian.

*Pondering Prayerfully:  Three of the nicest people I have known in my life have worked for -- or been volunteers for -- Planned Parenthood. Go figure. The Lord loves to challenge us, doesn't he?

*Carefully Cultivating Rhythm:  Zumba. Have you ever heard of it? A mix of aerobics and Latin-type
dance moves. I try to do it at least four times a week.

*Creating By Hand:  Sorry. I just don't do this.

*Learning Lessons In:  How to let my house be a little bit messy. I am kind of a neatnik. Well...I am a total neatnik. But, this makes everyone else in the family sort of frustrated. So, I am learning to happily appreciate messes that are happily made by people who are baking, quilting, scrap-booking, putting together fashion outfits, and working on music.

*Encouraging Learning:  One of the drawbacks of homeschooling and sending my kids to good Catholic Colleges? They have not had a lot of exposure to people of different "stripes." I am trying to rectify this. After all, people of different "stripes" can be a hell of a lot of fun.

*Begging Prayers:  One of my daughters is experiencing significant health challenges. Pretty tough when you're a fun-loving 22-year-old. If you're a praying type of person, please say a little one for her. If you're not a praying type of person, please hold her in your thoughts.

*Keeping House:  Trying to do less of this. See "Learning Lessons In" above.

*Crafting In The Kitchen:  Thank goodness for Trader Joe's.  That's all I can say.  Chopping and measuring and sifting and I just don't see eye-to-eye.

*Loving The Moments:  When my husband gets a little smile and a little twinkle in his eye that make him look just like he did when I met him 27 years ago.  This happens a lot when he listens to Van Halen.  Long live Eddie...

*Giving Thanks:  That I get to be a wife and mother.  Couldn't want anything more.

*Living The Liturgy:  Advent is coming.  I'm not sure exactly when, but I know there will be an announcement in the church bulletin.  If I miss it in the church bulletin, I will know it when I see the purple stuff in the church.  Then I will make sure to go to Confession.  Maybe I will even get an Advent wreath for my house.  I say this every year, but it has not happened yet.  Well -- maybe it happened once or twice.  A domestic decorating goddess, I am not.

*Planning For The Week Ahead:  This is basically pointless, as life has taught me many times.  But, I absolutely have to get the oil changed in the minivan.

Faith

Today begins the Year of Faith in the Catholic Church. Faith is more than just a belief in God. As the Catechism says:  Faith is man's response to God, who reveals himself and gives himself to man, at the same time bringing man a superabundant light as he searches for the ultimate meaning of his life.

Sometimes, in our journey of faith, things go pretty smoothly. It is easy for us to see God and his goodness in the beauty of creation, in the friendship of others.  We may have good jobs, incomes more than adequate to provide for our needs and the needs of our families. If we are students, we may be getting good grades and have a lovely group of companions, with wonderful futures on the horizon.  We  may be blessed with good health -- physically and mentally. If we are married, we may feel truly of one heart and mind with our spouses. And it is easy to see God in our good fortune. It is easy to pray and to trust.  After all, we aren't feeling let down by him, at least in any major way.  We can pretty effortlessly see that "superabundant light" of which the Catechism speaks.

And then there are those other times. The times when we can't see even a flicker of that "superabundant light." We all have these times, methinks.  The times that truly suck. We graduate from high school or college and suddenly all of our closest friends are hundreds, or even thousands, of miles away. As new grads, we may be unemployed for long periods of time. Or, if we are fortunate enough to find jobs, they may be significantly below our skill level and pay something like $9.75 an hour. We might break up with our boyfriends, our girlfriends, or even our spouses.  Our parents may be nearing the ends of their lives, and if our relationships with them have been difficult, we often have the sad realization that we will never have the kind of conversation with them or affection from them that we have always hoped for. We might have lost jobs, houses, and retirement funds in the recent economic crisis. A crisis that still isn't over.  We may be having significant health problems that seem as though they will never really be resolved.

So, what do we make of these crappy times? How do we have faith during them? How do we even pray at times like these?

Well, for me, during times like these, I find it necessary to keep things simple.

During times like these, I can't listen to the Super Catholics on EWTN. I can't hang with the people who talk incessantly about the Big Issues in the Church -- Latin vs. English, OCP vs. Chant, the priest abuse crisis, how we need more vocations, whether or not Nancy Pelosi should be excommunicated, whether or not Obama should have been allowed to speak at Notre Dame, which Catholic colleges and universities are "Catholic enough," whether or not girls should wear sleeveless shirts and/or dresses and cover their heads at Mass, whether or not pants (on women) are proper, and on and on...

During times like these, I just like to imagine myself hanging out with Jesus in the evening, cooking some fish on the fire. I like to reflect on his gentleness toward people -- toward sinners, toward the poor, toward women. When you think about it,  Jesus was pretty gentle toward most everybody, because he knows how we struggle. He knows about all our problems -- and he does not wish to add to our burdens. He tells us that his "burden is light."  And when Jesus was harsh, to whom was he harsh? The hypocrites. Those who laid heavy burdens on people without lifting a finger to help them. The "thieves" selling things in the temple area. He was angry because they were "thieves," not because they were selling things. At least, that's how I read it.

So, during difficult periods in my life, when I am not feeling that "superabundant light" too much, I reflect on Jesus' gentleness. I say simple prayers, such as The Jesus Prayer.  And, frankly, sometimes that's the only prayer I can manage. I attempt to show my love toward the members of my family in my attitude toward them and in how I perform my "job" as a homemaker. And I try to be extra thoughtful and gentle to the people who cross my path each day -- especially those who are homeless or who are unemployed or who work very hard for very little money.  I just try to live the Christian life in its most elemental form, trusting that the Lord will get me through the hard times. Eventually, anyway.

*******

Jesus Prayer:  My Jesus, mercy...

Being A Mom. Being Overwhelmed. Situation Normal.

A lovely Catholic mother of nine was recently talking about feeling overwhelmed.  She seemed to be of the opinion that if she was doing things as God wanted her to do them, she would not feel thus. 

Ahem... NO.

As the very wise Father Buckley has stated:  Just because you are a Christian doesn't mean that you will ride your surfboard on a continual wave of joy all your life.

True that...  And so, if you are a mother, you are going to feel overwhelmed sometimes.  It doesn't mean you are doing anything wrong, at least as far as being a Christian is concerned.  Especially if you have nine children -- or even one, for that matter.  Motherhood -- as well as any other vocation -- is going to leave you feeling overwhelmed from time to time.  Or even quite often.

First, let's remember that thing called "The Fall."  It happened in the Garden of Eden.  And nothing has been the same since.  If you are a Christian, you believe in "The Fall."  And if you are not a Christian and you don't believe in "The Fall," I bet you would still be willing to admit that a lot of things in this world, for some reason or another, seem awfully "f-d" up.  So, even if we are doing the very best job we can as mothers, we should not expect smooth sailing all the time.  And, perhaps, if we can accept the imperfections and frustrations inherent in life -- and even the feeling of being completely overwhelmed at times -- we will actually have more peace of mind.  Because at least we won't be beating ourselves up by blaming these normal feelings on our supposed shortcomings as Christian women. 

Stuff happens... You know?

One day, when my kids were 4, 2, and newborn, I awoke to the following.  The 4-year-old had peed in her bed, the newborn's diaper had leaked all over my bed, and the 2-year-old had thrown up sometime during the night (apparently without waking up) -- leaving me to find her, her bed, and the wall next to the bed absolutely covered in dried barf.  And I am not good with barf -- ask any of my kids.  I can take massive arterial bleeding better than I can take barf.  My husband was hurrying out the door to work as I discovered all of these things, so he was unavailable to help.  I cried.  I didn't know which mess or which child to attend to first.  I was all bleary-eyed, exhausted from taking care of the new baby during the night.  Did I feel overwhelmed?  You bet your little backside.  Did I feel this way because I was lacking something in my relationship with the Lord?  No.  I was feeling this way because there was pee and barf all over my house, and I was the only adult present. 

Another day, I thought I was finished with meals and messes for a little while.  If you are a mother of three little children, you will know that life is a constant whirlwind of meals and messes.  I was looking forward to some quiet playtime with my kids.  But, as I walked into the kitchen, I discovered that my then 3-year-old daughter had colored the bottoms of her shoes with blue marker and walked ALL OVER the white kitchen floor.  I wish I could say that I had a sense of humor about the whole thing, but I did not.  A massively poopy diaper followed by blue footprints all over my white floor were not my idea of a good time.  And I felt -- OVERWHELMED.  Again, not because of my lack of a spiritual life.  Simply because I was very tired and there were these freaking "decorations" covering my linoleum.  Yes -- that is what my daughter told me she was doing -- "decorating" the floor, because white was boring. 

Now, I admit that having a good prayer life will help you through these difficult times as a mom.  But, life is life.  And the world is fallen.  So, when s**t happens to us as moms, and we feel overwhelmed, we shouldn't beat ourselves up over it.  Jesus felt overwhelmed, too.  Remember how he used to try to escape the crowds for a while, to have some peace and quiet prayer time?  Of course, the people always managed to find him in his places of respite -- just like our kids always manage to find us. 

Admittedly, it is wise for us mothers to look at how we are structuring our lives.  It is wise for us to examine our daily routines and our expectations of ourselves and others.  At times, we can find ways to do things more efficiently, leading to fewer occasions when we feel stressed to the max.  And we should examine our spiritual lives.  They are important.  A positive spiritual life can definitely help us deal with difficult circumstances in more positive ways.  Just like Jesus taking his quiet prayer time apart from the crowds helped him in his mission on earth.

But, life is life.  It can be overwhelming.  I think it's healthy to accept that.  So, let's just say a little prayer, do the best we can from day to day, and try to remember that "this, too, shall pass..."