In living color Easter morning, DeMille style—from 1927!
Jesus rises from the dead, meeting His mother and Mary Magdalene in this gorgeous Technicolor sequence from Cecil B. DeMille's 1927 blockbuster "The King of Kings." You may prefer it with the sound down, as the contemporary soundtrack is overbearing. Also advised: Have a tissue handy.
Steven Greydanus has more on this classic film, which benefited from the advice of the great author and speaker Father Daniel A. Lord S.J. DeMille remained friends with Father Lord for the rest of the Jesuit's life, as he wrote in his autobiography, more than 30 years after the making of "King of Kings":
"Father Lord and I did not always see eye to eye on artistic matters, but I never lost my admiration and love for that devoted, manly, brilliant Jesuit, whose quality of soul was never better manifested than when he was dying of cancer and I ventured to ask him if, out of that soul-searching experience, he would write for the benefit of others a little statement that I could use in my work as an officer of the American Cancer Society. He complied, with the utterly calm courage which had its unfailing source not in this world.
"One of my brightest memories of the making of The King of Kings is of Father Lord celebrating Mass in the open air soon after sunrise every morning while we were on location on Catalina Island. It was like a continued benediction on our work, which began on the first day of shooting with a short service of prayer participated in by representatives of the Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Buddhist, and Moslem faiths."
RELATED: Click the "Daniel A. Lord" tag below for more on Father Lord, including the only known audio recording of him.
Feministing, the blog run by Jessica Valenti—whose book The Purity Myth castigates me for "cashing in" on chastity—currently features lesbian advocate Rebecca "Professor Foxy" Fox answering a 22-year-old Catholic woman's question: "Should I Lose My Virginity?" [Be forewarned: The post contains graphic language.]
The letter-writer, a "student of women's studies," feels profoundly out of place among her feminist peers for being a virgin at such an advanced age. Currently she is in a "very casual" relationship with a man that she expects to end when they move to separate coasts in the fall.
"A large part of me says hey, you're 22, you'll definitely like sex a lot, who knows when you'll be in any sort of relationship again ... just do it," she writes. "But then another part wonders, what if I regret it -- I don't want to do it just to get it over with."
It is not surprising that Professor Foxy responds with the garden-variety feminist "do what's right for you" message, especially as she is a veteran of the ultra-liberal sex-ed advocacy group SIECUS. But then she adds a piece of advice that unwittingly shines a harsh light on what passes for "freedom" in feminist circles—the freedom to be hard:
"I think there is something emotionally safer about having sex with someone who is leaving. No matter how emotional or invested you find yourself afterwards, they are going to be gone and you cannot tie unrealistic expectations to them. Time limited relationships also allow the person to stay closer to perfection. Traits that may later become annoying (leaving the seat up, an obnoxious laugh) are sweet and endearing in only a few months."
Perhaps that is good advice for a lesbian like Fox, living with a partner who will never leave the seat up. It's bad advice for a virgin who may want to be a wife and mother some day.
You may think that, if anything, you fall in love too easily. It may appear to you that women who have premarital sex do so because they’re more open to a relationship than those who embrace chastity.
I’m not going to deny that some single women are abstinent because they fear sexual intimacy. I call such women abstinent, not chaste, because there is no fear in chastity. However, when a single woman who wants to get married instead finds herself having dead-end sexual relationships, she’s not trying to let men inside. She’s trying to shut them out.
If you hunger for intimacy but fear rejection, it is much, much easier to let a man touch your body than to let him touch your heart.
Village Voice sex columnist Rachel Kramer Bussel has admitted as much. “I will offer my body much sooner than my heart,” she once wrote in her Lusty Lady column, “because I can walk away from casual sex, no matter how strong the connection, and not find myself crying, waiting for the phone to ring, or contemplating the other person’s mindset.”
Such rationalizations are all too familiar among single women, because they create an enticing fantasy: all you have to do is lower your expectations and you, too, can enjoy all the passion and excitement of casual sex, feeling no pain from the inevitable separation.
I tried very hard to buy into that fantasy, because I believed that a man was more likely to fall in love with me after having sex than prior to it. More than that, I had a sense of entitlement. I deserved a soul mate. If God wasn’t keeping up His end of the bargain by sending me one, then I believed I had every right to take my pleasure where I could get it.
My mentality was akin to that of a little girl who’s been good for a whole day and believes that she deserves ice cream. So Mom and Dad won’t take me to Baskin-Robbins? I’ll show them! I’ll pig out on Marshmallow Fluff.
I admit it’s possible to achieve the fantasy of casual sex with no apparent emotional consequences—just as it’s possible to eat Marshmallow Fluff for three meals a day and never get cavities. In the case of the sugary foodstuff, you won’t get any cavities if you eat while wearing a boxer’s mouth guard. Likewise, with casual sex, you won’t get hurt—as long as you adopt a hard shell. But if you do that, you’re opening yourself up to a painful irony.
I discovered the irony myself, late in the game: the same armor that enabled me to tolerate casual sex made me less attractive to the kind of man I most desired.
Men with depth quickly figured out that I took sex far too lightly. Worse, I became so used to viewing myself and potential partners as objects of physical desire that I became unable to give of myself. Against my heart’s own wishes, I tried to drag new relationships down to the lowest common denominator—and then wondered why the most sensitive and feeling men wouldn’t stay with me. ...
I still have a lot to learn about sustaining a lasting relationship, but I firmly believe that during the time I’ve spent working at chastity, the hardness that men perceived in me has been gradually melting away. In its place are an openness and a vulnerability that make me more susceptible to being hurt, but infinitely more capable of attaining and sustaining the lifelong marriage my heart desires.
P.S. I sent a copy of The Thrill to Village Voice Lusty Lady columnist Rachel Kramer Bussel, requesting a back-cover blurb—never having met her and having no idea what she would think of my quoting her in the above passage. She responded: "I can't say I agree with everything in it or 100% with the overall message, but there were some parts of it that I really liked and related to, especially the chapter on 'Becoming a Singular Sensation.' As a single woman myself, Dawn's given me a lot to think about."
I spoke in November 2007 about how engaging in sex outside marriage requires one to build up a shell that, ironically, prevents one from receiving the love one seeks.
Brother Dean, a Capuchin friar in Sydney wrote me about this sweet tune by Maria Taylor with Michael Stipe on backing vocals. I'd never heard of her, but he says she was in a duo called Azure Ray.
Taylor reminds me of another Stipe collaborator, this one from 20 years ago: Syd Straw of the Golden Palominos, with "Future 40s."
'Money is not a currency by which we can purchase self-esteem' Rabbi Boteach on Jackson's spiritual isolation
"Because Michael substituted attention for love he got fans who loved what he did but he never had true compatriots who loved him for who he was. Perhaps this is why, when so many of his inner circle saw him destroying his life with prescription medication - something he used to treat phantom physical illnesses which were really afflictions of the soul - they allowed him to deteriorate and disintegrate rather than throwing the poison in the garbage.
"Michael's death is not just a personal tragedy, it is an American tragedy. Michael's story was the stuff of the American dream - a poor black boy who grows up in Gary, Indiana, and ends up a billionaire entertainer. But we now know how the story ends. Money is not a currency by which we can purchase self-esteem and being recognized on the streets will never replace being loved unconditionally by family and true friends."
"Whenever I hear or read of anyone who has a strong desire to play God, I feel like shouting, 'Well, why don’t you?' When someone boasts in my presence about what he would do or not do if he were God, it comes to me with a shock that he constantly has a chance to make good his boast and evidently is not aware of it. For throughout our lives God is constantly asking us to substitute for Him and do for our fellow men the godlike things that will make life beautiful and rich and full.
"Sometimes we answer this challenge rather well, and the happiness that follows for ourselves and others is glorious. Sometimes we fail miserably, disgracefully, and unhappiness ensues. On a thousand occasions mothers stand to their children in place of God. Isn’t the world a vastly happier place because they play that part so well? Many a fine physician plays God when he saves a life, brings back health to those who call upon him. I think that a cook in the kitchen plays God for those she feeds quite as much as a great lawyer plays God when he wins justice for a frightened client. I think the young man who protects a girl from sin and temptation plays God very beautifully and strongly, as does the young woman who adds to the beauty of the world the sweet fragrance of her own virtue.
"Yet, given the chance to play God, we have a way of failing too, too frequently. We are appalled at human cruelty and thoughtlessness and sin in others. Then God gives us a chance to do His work for someone, and we refuse. ...
"I do think that, before we start telling God how to run His world, we might prove that we, given a chance to stand briefly in the place of God, have done a first-class job with ourselves. If we have played God beautifully in the little corner of the world that depends on us, we may have some right to aspire to higher responsibilities. I notice that people who really try to do a Christ-like job in the spot they occupy are usually too humble about their work to aspire to run the whole world, and usually so busy spreading happiness where thay are that they haven’t time to taunt God or even to think too much about His running of the universe."
Striptease on the altar Christopher West's YouTube oeuvre
Christopher West, the popular author who speaks on Pope John Paul II's theology of the body, has yet to make his promised public statement following criticisms from his former mentor Dr. David Schindler, but defenders such as Profs. Janet Smith and Michael Waldstein have. They and others who unconditionally support West's approach assert that his critics have judged him based on his ABC "Nightline" interview, which was heavily edited, and are ignoring his larger body of work. (West's statement on the "Nightline" interview is here; an index to recent articles by his supporters and critics is here.)
West is often credited with helping bring many people into the Church, and, as I have often said, I am one of them. It was his Good News About Sex and Marriage, given me by a Catholic seminarian, that showed me for the first time how the Church's teachings answered the longings of my heart. So, on the one hand, I cannot help but agree with those who say his work has borne much good fruit.
At the same time, as I have acquired more knowledge of the Faith, I have become increasingly concerned that, in trying to popularize the late Holy Father's teachings, West is unwittingly elucidating a theology that is more Christopher than John Paul.
West's supporters are right in that his approach cannot be judged adequately unless one has read it and witnessed it. So I would advise those who are following the current discussion to read his books, particularly the most popular one, Good News About Sex and Marriage, and to watch and listen to his talks. It is easy to get a feel for his speaking style without leaving home, as his fans have posted dozens of videos of him on YouTube.
I have watched nearly all the videos and found many that reminded me of why I was attracted to West's writings in the first place. For example, in this short clip titled "Sexual Healing: From Marvin Gaye to John Paul II," West makes important and, I think, perfectly orthodox points about what the word "sexuality" meant to the late Holy Father—and does so with humor.
However, there are other clips on YouTube that I find problematic, such as the following one, posted in January of this year. The first line, which is cut off at the beginning, is, "Look at Paul's body."
In West's defense, he had no idea that the man he called up to be ogled in front of the altar would take off his blazer like a male stripper. But he is responsible for his own actions as he urges the audience to look at the man's body and, with an air of gentle mockery, calls them to account for their discomfort.
This episode is identical to one described last year by a letter-writer to The Remnant that the newspaper's editor, Michael J. Matt, included in an April 2008 article on West:
Right there in front of the Blessed Sacrament, Christopher West had a young man stand up, and he said: “Look at Jim’s body.” When the audience (men and women, married and single) started to giggle and get uncomfortable, he said that this was the wrong response. Mr. West felt that we should be perfectly comfortable with the idea of looking at someone’s body. I disagreed wholeheartedly because I felt this was our natural modesty calling on us to protect ourselves and the person standing before us. The guy who was standing there was actually blushing! Mr. West said that if someone says “look at Jim”, no one would laugh, and so we were basically being prudish (in the bad Jansenist/Manichean sense) when we laugh at his suggestion to look at the body.
There is no question that audiences by and large love West, especially youths. I believe the reactions of the teenagers in the following video are typical.
Yet, I cannot help but be disconcerted by certain comments the youths make during the clip, particularly one by the girl who speaks at 2:31.
The teen says, "Absolutely amazing. I was just really struck by how prayerful he was, like, especially at the beginning, blessing us all."
She demonstrates by making the Sign of the Cross as a priest does.
According to Catholic Answers, only a person who is in spiritual authority may bestow a blessing. Parents, then, may bless their children, as they did in biblical times, because they are the heads of the domestic church. Beyond parents, however, it appears—and please, canon law experts, correct me if I am wrong—that the only people the Church authorizes to give blessings are deacons and priests.
So, assuming the girl is recounting his actions accurately, West, in blessing the crowd, is imputing to himself a spiritual authority that the Church teaches does not belong to him. This takes me back to my concern, which Schindler has also expressed, that West claims to possess a special gift of the Holy Spirit.
I do not doubt that the Holy Spirit has enabled West to bear good fruit for the Church. But, as it says in the Gospels, it can happen that the wheat gets mixed with the tares. Great accomplishments and great intentions do not equal infallibility.
Chris West tells listener concerned over his language to ask: 'Lord, why did I find that uncomfortable?'
On June 3, the Personalist Project hosted a talk by Franciscan University of Steubenville Prof. Michael J. Healy called "Dietrich von Hildebrand on Human Sexuality," with a response by Christopher West. The talk was highly anticipated because West, the leading popular speaker and author on Pope John Paul II's theology of the body (TOB), had recently come under criticism sparked by his recent appearance on ABC News' "Nightline." (For an even-handed selection of articles by West's critics and defenders, see Headline Bistro's "Following the Discussion on JPII's Theology of the Body." For West's clarification of his "Nightline" appearance, which he says was presented with "editorial comments which may appear misleading," see his Web site.)
The Personalist Project's Web site now features audio from the June 3 discussion and the question-and-answer session that followed. One section of the Q&A particularly struck me for what it revealed about West's response to those who question his using graphic sexual language in his talks at churches and in front of minors.
I have transcribed the question and West's answer to the best of my ability, and offer them here with my comments. Your thoughts are welcomed. Audio of the entire Q&A segment may be found here. The question below appears about two-thirds of the way into the recording:
Q: Just as a follow-up, if I could, one of the things I also wanted to address was something along the lines of what isn't prudish. For example, one of the things, if I could bring that example to you, Christopher -- it' s not to attack you in any way -- but when you had given a talk at our church, uh, in Lancaster three years ago, you read openly from [the future Pope John Paul II's 1957 book] Love and Responsibility --
West: "About mutual climax."
Q: "Absolutely."
West: [laughs]
Q: "And there were even teenagers that were there. I don't believe mine were there, thanks be to God, but I found that very uncomfortable. And then when I expressed that to certain people, I was again called prudish and puritanical. Is that -- would you consider that prudish or puritanical, that me or anyone else who was there, in that, in that setting, would consider that, um --"
West: "I could understand why some might feel uncomfortable with that. But I would just encourage you to take to the Lord your heart. Say -- and, and -- just say, 'Lord, why did I find that uncomfortable?'
"Not that you -- He might say, 'Because that's your particular sensibility, and, and you should have no problem with that. Be totally fine there.'
"But we need to crack open what goes on in our hearts and let the light of the Lord in there. And my experience has been, and it's not gonna be everybody's experience, but that that quote which I share and don't hesitate to share often and repeatedly, including on ABC News, gives people a 'Wow, the Catholic Church isn't what I thought it to be, and the Pope is, here he is, back in the 1950s, he wasn't ashamed to talk about it. He wasn't ashamed to, to share this. We -- people need to know that. And this might be the only opportunity for people to know that John Paul II wasn't afraid to talk about these things.
"So, uh, I understand the sensitivity, and I'm not here to condemn you for it in the least. I would encourage you, like I encourage everyone, just take that, whatever it is, a discomfort, a pain, a fear, whatever it might be, I don't know -- say, 'Lord, shine your light upon it and show me what this is and why I feel this way.' And I think he will."
I am often favorably impressed with West's interpretation of the TOB and believe that in the above instance, as always, he is acting as a faithful Catholic who believes he is speaking the truth in love. However, the exchange strikes me as an example of what Dr. David Schindler calls a theological problem in West's style of preaching. In essence, West seems to present himself as a go-to source for Holy Spirit guidance. In the exchange above, he even presumes to know what the Lord might say in reply to the questioner's prayer.
In Schindler's words, "West often tends to treat resistance to the content of his lectures, for example during the question periods, as matters of resistance to the Holy Spirit (to the Spirit now speaking in and through West's 'charism'), urging questioners to pray to overcome the fear induced in them by their bad theological-spiritual formation. Well-balanced persons have spoken of how West makes them feel a sense of guilt, of resistance to the Holy Spirit, if they experience uneasiness about what he is saying."
Ashli takes her children, Emmil and Elise, to a park last Thursday in Tallahassee, Fla.
Ashli Foshee McCall, the author of Beyond Morning Sickness, is to undergo surgery today to remove a growth from her pancreas. She is expected to be in intensive care, unconscious, for two days following the operation.
Please pray for this brave woman, whose book about the pregnancy disease hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) has helped so many women survive a potentially devastating illness. As readers of her book know, she has experienced much physical suffering in the past, but the recent diagnosis of the pancreatic growth has been a particular trial for her, her husband, and her children.
If you are not familiar with Beyond Morning Sickness, hear Ashli tell her story in her 2007 appearance on CNN.
In this Year of the Priest, every day is Father's day A guest post by GLENNA BRADSHAW
“Your family is so blessed.” I am often told that when people find out that we have three priests in our family—my son (that's him, Father Ben Bradshaw, at right), my brother, and my cousin. And they are right, we are blessed. Greatly blessed by the daily faithfulness of these men to their vocations. In this Year of the Priest, I want to share a few thoughts about fostering vocations in a family:
True humility has to be the foundation for every vocation, especially the priesthood. The priesthood, worthily lived, is a gift from God. While I know that surveys have shown that many Catholic families discourage priestly vocations, I've been in the uncomfortable position more than once of having a Catholic mother point to her son and say, "He was supposed to be our priest." My heart ached for the uncomfortable young man in question. Its not up to parents or families to make the decision for or against the priesthood. It's up to the Holy Spirit and the candidate.
Supporting a priestly vocation doesn’t mean worshipping the priest. Again, speaking from experience, often family members have a tendency to place Father on a pedestal once he’s ordained. The opposite can also happen. I.e., priests can be vilified by persons in their own families who denigrate their vocation.
Supporting your pastor doesn’t mean manipulating your relationship with him. Sometimes good Catholic parishioners tend to develop a special relationship with their pastors and, from that, develop expectations regarding the type of 'payback' they can expect in terms of hospital visitations, dinner invites etc.
Supporting our priests during this Year of the Priest would certainly entail some of these key elements:
Prayer and penance. These are two sides of the same coin. One enhances the other. Send your priest a note with a Spiritual Bouquet enclosed.
Refusing to take part in the parish/diocesan naysaying against the priest or bishop in question. Just walk away from it. Even if what is being discussed is true, it's usually harmful to the Body of Christ.
Thank a priest. One worthwhile development of the last few years has been the public instruction to thank a military person for his or her service to their country if you see them in the airport or some other public place. The same gratitude should be shown to our priests.
Give priests the benefit of the doubt. In order to keep a family intact and functioning and healthy, we have to assume the goodwill of the other unless proven otherwise. The same courtesy should be extended to our priests.
Glenna Bradshaw, a nurse, lives in Memphis, Tenn. 11:00 PM |
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Catholic convert, cancer patient writes 'Little Guide for Your Last Days'
Introductory Note: Jeffry Hendrix, a Methodist pastor who converted to Catholicism [read his conversion story] is a longtime Dawn Patrol reader and commenter—that's me with him at right in May 2007.
Last year, Jeff was diagnosed with bladder cancer. The experience gave him a new perspective on his conversion, his vocation, and, indeed, his entire life. Out of that came his desire to write his first book, one that would help others suffering from terminal illness to reconcile themselves to God: the newly released A Little Guide for Your Last Days.
Jeff and his publisher, Bridegroom Press, have graciously permitted me to reprint Chapter One of Little Guide on The Dawn Patrol. It appears below, prefaced by a personal letter Jeff wrote to his Protestant friends and family to tell them about his book.
Jeffry Hendrix writes:
Since I was young, I have watched death come: for my grandparents; for a multitude of my church members; for my mother; for my brother; and then for me.
But I was not ready when I knew it was coming for me. I was scared to death the morning of the surgery to open me up to remove my left kidney, ureter, and scrape my bladder. I was not ready. I felt in an instant how much of my precious time on this Earth as a human being had been spent being distracted from the absolute and undeniable fact. I. Will. Die.
It was partly my fault – who wants to think about that? It was mostly the milieu in which I was born, lived, and moved through life: modern popular culture strives during our every waking moment to keep our consciousness from the fact of our mortality. We are distracted to death. Sure: it fills with near-pornographic glee the movies, television dramas, comedies, thrillers, gore fests with other peoples’ deaths, but never does it put death in first person singular.
So at 10:30 a.m. on the morning of April 24, 2008, I had my personal Garden of Gethsemane. I was alone (literally). I was mortally afraid. I was not ready or at peace with the fact that I was moving toward my death, and death was moving toward me.
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The surgery was successful, but in December of the same year, cystoscopy showed I had lesions in my bladder, and chemotherapy was prescribed. It was at that moment that A Little Guide for Your Last Days began to be written. As much for me as for anyone else who might read it.
For any readers who are Christian, Little Guide is my express understanding of the grace of God in Jesus Christ to save us from both the penalty of sin and the fear and pain of death. Yes; it is Catholic in theology and understanding. That is where I find the most truth, the most hope, the most understanding of our human condition, and the most answers to our human plight.
I want A Little Guide for Your Last Days to be not only a memento mori – a reminder of your mortality – but a book of lessons for living your life more in keeping with the will of our self-donating, covenant-making, covenant-keeping God. And He is most clearly revealed in Jesus Christ: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
The doctor has shrugged his/her shoulders. All that can be done has been done. It will be x number of weeks/months of relatively high functioning normalcy, a rather steeply descending slope toward the cessation of organ function, a call to Hospice, then a great deal of morphine or the like (you hope). What should you do now? Let’s start at the other end of the stick. What shouldn’t you do?
First of all, don’t mimic any movie character, any television show plot line, any action of any saint, or any advice given to you by a well-wishing friend, relative, or acquaintance.
What about The Bucket List? You know, the movie with Jack and Morgan – the two old geezers who go about spending their money on fun and dangerous things? Sorry; that drops you right back to square one – distraction from awareness of your gifted knowledge. Do not under any circumstances fall for this ruse. At best, you will come out of the experience with that sinking realization that nothing has changed. At worst, you will provide the keepers of pop culture with yet another example of how to distract yourself to death. Literally.
Secondly, don’t go round to acquaintances, friends, relatives, or perfect strangers looking for sympathy, understanding, concern, or anything else. Simply do not do it. They will not give it to you to the degree to which you are seeking. Even if they do, you will end up resenting their attempts. (Hey, they’re “safe”, or so they think. What’s it costing them? Nothing.) Again, you will end up feeling worse than you did before you went looking for what they really and truly do not have to give to you.
In fact, once the fact is out there, you are in what some cultural anthropologists like René Girard call “the sacred precinct.” You are a certifiable sacrificial victim, and you carry with you a sacred aura. Congratulations, right? It is an honor you would rather not enjoy, of course. As Mark Twain noted, when threatened by tarring and feathering and being ridden out of town on a rail, “If it weren’t for the honor and glory of the thing, I’d just as soon walk.”
And it isn’t such a strange, metaphysical thing. Mortality, being so hidden and kept from the general awareness, makes death the thing of near-pornographic fascination today, as long as it is someone else who is being so fascinating.
So here is the advice: Don’t waste your time in frenetic activities. It won’t get you any closer to what you want the most. Neither will the most tender sympathies of friends, family, or perfect strangers. Nor will the bald awareness and contemplation of your status as being in the cattle chute, as it were. None of these will answer the question burning in your mind and heart. And what might that question be? The Big Question?
I think you already have some idea or you wouldn’t have picked this book up from a bookstore like this. Matter of fact, you wouldn’t have even come into this bookstore if you weren’t already on the path to answering it for yourself.
"The procreative aspect of marriage—starting and maintaining a family—is something publicly significant and certifiable. As such, it is and should be governed by the laws of the state. But the expressive aspects are the private reasons for marriage, which should not be governed by the laws of the state, however necessary they might be for the private happiness that makes getting married and staying married personally desirable. In today's parlance, these expressive aspects are about 'relationships' rather than being about what in yesterday's parlance were called 'family relations.' Thus one used to carefully distinguish between one’s relatives and one's friends (even when one privately valued the relationship with one's friends more than one's relations with one's family relatives).
"The state has no valid interest in these private relationships and should not, therefore, interfere with them by attempting to govern them in any way. The state should be concerned with marriage’s public effects, not its private affects. We should be wary of ceding control over these emotions to the state, for private affections become distorted when public interest in them inevitably leads to public control of them. The state should no more govern these private relationships any more than it should govern one’s friendships, however long lasting they might be.
"Like the lives of the human beings who have created it, the state seeks its own survival. In order to regularly replenish its citizenry and ensure national continuity, the state has an interest in encouraging procreation and child rearing. Since procreation-with-child-rearing is the only truly public reason for marriage, I think marriage is essentially endorsed and structured by the state to best facilitate the procreation-and-rearing-of-children so born and raised in the society that purposefully maintains and supports that public institution. In general, parents have the primary right to raise the new persons they have brought into the world. Since these parents are responsible for bringing their children into the world and into society, the children have a right to their parents’ attention to them—a claim on their parents to fulfill their parental duty as much as it is possible for them to do. Absent any severe physical, mental, or emotional impediments to parenthood that inevitably lead to abuse or neglect, children are best raised by their natural parents. The state has an interest in respecting and even enforcing the natural claim children have on their own parents. Thus I consider these rights to be natural, in the literal sense of their natal character; and they are natural in the sense of being pre-political and thus not entitlements from the state."
Virgo redacta Christopher West and the dangers of overanalogizing Mary
A guest post by FR. ANGELO MARY GEIGER F.I.
Throughout the recent debate concerning the theology and methodology of Christopher West there has been considerable back and forth regarding the specific instances in which West might be taken as representing a line of thought out of step with Catholic tradition. Rather than answer all the specifics of the latest critiques of Prof. Schindler by Profs. Smith and Waldstein, I would like to focus on several examples of West that are often referred to in discussions and which I find poorly represented by him. The larger point of my focusing on these instances, I submit, is to illustrate how West undermines reverence by basing much of his unveiling on arguments not sufficiently based on fact.
I will take two of the best-known topics of West's writings and talks to make my point, though I allege there are more which I might illuminate at another time. They are 1) his reference to the paschal candle as a phallic symbol and the rites associate with it as a symbolic simulation of the conjugal act, 2) his penchant for unveiling the body of the Blessed Mother.
The “Phallacy” of the Candle
In The Everlasting Man G.K. Chesterton recalls a conversion he once had with a walking companion as they rested in the shadow of a church along the way. The companion asked: “Do you know why the spire of that church goes up like that?” When Chesterton had “expressed a respectable agnosticism,” the man went on: “Oh, the same as the obelisks; the Phallic Worship of antiquity!” After a moment of silence Chesterton replied: “Why, of course, . . . if it hadn’t been for phallic worship, they would have built the spire pointing downwards and standing on its own apex!” (p. 1, c. 8).
And that is basically my first point. We should all remember that the Paschal Candle is rather large, round and long, because, well, it’s a big candle. The size and shape are purely and perfectly functional as the candle in general is a masterpiece of engineering. In particular, this candle’s erectile contour is so prominent because it is to be the principle source of light and the focal point within the Church at the beginning of the Easter Vigil. The great Easter Praeconium weaves its verses around the candle proclaiming the candle’s obvious function with liturgical elegance. It is described as a “pillar of fire . . . shining to the honor of God,” because its purpose is to “dissipate the darkness of this night.” The Praeconium continues:
Let the morning star find its flame alight. That star, I mean, which knows no setting. He who returning from hell, serenely shone forth upon mankind.
And so the focus point of the Liturgy of Light is the Paschal Candle, because it is a functional instrument of light and its symbolism, very clearly, refers to the risen Christ. Easter is the beginning of an eternal day that is founded on the Resurrection of Christ. The vigil begins in darkness (death) and ends in light (life), at first that light comes only from Christ (the paschal candle) and then, after we have proclaimed: Lumen Christi! (Christ our Light), that light (life) is spread to the rest of us.
It seems, then, safe to assume, unless any phallic liturgical formularies can marshaled to the contrary, that the liturgy itself makes it clear that we are to understand the Paschal Candle to symbolize Christ, and its light, the Resurrection.
In her latest piece Prof. Smith admits that she was originally uncomfortable with West’s assertion that the symbolism of the Paschal Candle is an illustration of the Church’s sexual liturgical imagery:
I was appalled. Actually any reference to phallic symbols appalls me – I think mine may be a prudish response – and, in this context, I thought it was vulgar and irreverent. Imagine my surprise to learn that liturgists and theologians from the early days of the Church have understood the Easter Candle just as West does. Recently a priest – one who is a great public apologist for orthodoxy – told me that he thinks many priests are acutely aware of the sexual symbolism of the Easter candle/holy water font imagery during the Easter liturgy. I was humbled when I realized my judgment had been based upon ignorance and prudery. I think giving a list of phrases that will shock without context invites people to make judgments based on ignorance and prudery. I don’t in fact know why Schindler objects to West’s claim about the tradition of the Easter candle.
I will say that when I first heard of this phallic reference from West, I was appalled also, and still am. But the great Prof. Smith now tells us that we should all feel ashamed of our prudery because there are nameless “liturgists and theologians from the early days of the Church,” who clearly understood the submersion of the Paschal Candle into the baptismal font during the rite of the blessing of baptismal water to be a symbolic simulation of the conjugal act. I know that West has been teaching this, at least since 1999, and at least since 2001 he has had to defend his use of this imagery. To this day I still have never heard the names of these early Christian “liturgists and theologians” or seen a reference in order to find the respective texts in support of this theory. I am willing to hear the names and read the texts, but until I do, I will just have to assume that there are none.
In his 2001 “An Open Letter to A Concerned Listener,” West refers the reader to Christopher Derrick’s Sex and Sacredness, without quotation or specific reference. One must just assume that Derrick actually argues for the symbolism West has adopted. However, in his latest book, Heaven's Song, he again defends his assertion regarding the Paschal Candle, but this time with a actual quote from Derrick’s book. Unfortunately, there is absolutely no mention of the Paschal Candle in the quotation (170-171). I, therefore, withhold shame over my prudery until some valid authority is found for this theory.
In regard to the symbolism of the baptismal font, which I suspect is the actual basis for West’s contention, there is some authority. Saint Didymus of Alexandria, writes “the water of baptism is like a virginal womb, and the same Spirit who came down upon Mary, fills the sacred font.” Furthermore, the formulary of the vetus ordo of the Roman Rite during the blessing of the baptismal water reads:
May [the Spirit] by a secret mixture of His divine virtue render this water fruitful for the regeneration of men, to the end that a heavenly offspring, conceived by sanctification, may emerge from the immaculate womb of this divine font, reborn a new creature: and may all, however distinguished in body by sex or in time by age, be born into one same infancy by grace their mother.
When the candle is dipped thrice into the font the priest says each time: “May the virtue of the Holy Spirit descend into all the water of this font.” And after breathing three times on the water the priest says: “And make the whole substance of this water fruitful for regeneration.”
Note well, however, that the font’s womb symbolism when combined with the actual non-phallic symbolism of the paschal candle and the accompanying gesture is not tantamount to symbolic copulation. In fact, in the context of the above quotes and the received theological tradition, the symbolism of the font refers to the gestational womb, not female genitalia, as is the case when Elizabeth says to Our Lady: “Blessed is the fruit of your womb.”
Why is this so? Because the fundamental conception of baptism is that of rebirth. In Baptism we are born of water and the Holy Spirit (Jn. 2:5). As St. Thomas Aquinas says, reflecting the entire tradition:
This regeneration is effected by Baptism, for just as a man cannot live in the flesh unless he is born in the flesh, even so a man cannot have the spiritual life of grace unless he be born again spiritually (Exposition of the Apostles’ Creed, art. 10).
The prayers over the water reflect exactly this regenerational (rebirth) understanding.
In order to understand this symbolism with precision it is necessary to go further. There is a relationship between the Christ symbolism of the Paschal Candle and the invocations of the Holy Spirit over the water.
Christ (the Paschal Candle) descends into the water in order to make it holy just as He did in His baptism in the Jordan by St. John. Regeneration begins with the Incarnation and is extended to fallen man by the Incarnate Word as he establishes the sacramental system. But our rebirth actually begins earlier with the conception of Christ in the womb of Mary, where the Holy Spirit overshadows the Virgin and through His power She conceives the Son of God, who then later in the humanity He received from Her, sanctifies the waters of regeneration with His own body in the Jordan as the Holy Spirit hovers above. That virgin body of Christ will remain the incorruptible source of life, even when it is laid in the tomb for three days after His redemptive sacrifice. Our Lord rises incorrupt from the sealed tomb, just as He escaped from his Mother’s womb, without breaking the seal. Here is St. Peter Chrysologus (d. 450) on the subject:
Him whom sealed virginity had brought to this life, the sealed tomb would return to eternal life. It is characteristic of divinity to leave the Virgin sealed after birth; it is also characteristic of divinity to go out from the sealed tomb with the body (Sermo 75, 3: CCL, 24 A).
In a way that is exactly parallel to the virgin births of Christ (from the Virgin and from the tomb) we are also born not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God (Jn 1:13). In other words our regeneration takes place in a series of virgin births (or conceptions): the Incarnation; the Resurrection; our baptism.
Read the quote from Saint Didymus of Alexandria again: “the water of baptism is like a virginal womb, and the same Spirit who came down upon Mary, fills the sacred font.” Baptism is, in fact, parallel to the virginal conception of Jesus. The waters of baptism are plainly virginal.
Futhermore, in the Didache, a first century anonymous work that includes liturgical instructions to the early Church, we read:
Having first said all these things, baptize into the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, in living water. But if you have no living water, baptize into other water; and if you cannot do so in cold water, do so in warm (c. 7).
The water of baptism is not some kind of bodily coital fluid. We are not inseminated by the warm waters of baptism. The water is “cold” and “living,” because through it we are washed clean of our sins and regenerated virginally. We enter the water dead and rise from it in new life. The Bride of Christ has been sanctified, cleansed by the laver of water in the word of life (Eph. 5:26). The womb imagery can only be taken so far, and certainly not so far as to suggest coitus.
Furthermore, West’s interpretation is also partly based on the repetition of the submersing of the candle in the font, suggesting that this is a simulation of copulation. But why really are their three submersions, rather than one? Because the imagery is baptismal. After all we are talking about the blessing of baptismal water in the baptismal font. We are baptized with a Trinitarian formula, and at the name of each of the three persons the catechumen is immersed in the water (or infused with it). The submersion is not a penetration, but a descent into death; the emersion is a resurrection to new life.
Know you not that all we who are baptized in Christ Jesus are baptized in his death?For we are buried together with him by baptism into death: that, as Christ is risen from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life (Rm 6:3-4).
What is simulated in the Easter rite is not copulation, but the death and resurrection of Christ under the sign of the Blessed Trinity.
I would submit that the symbolism supported by my arguments is indisputably the primary liturgical reference. Is it hypothetically possible that there might be another layer? Certainly, but it would have to be consistent with what is primary, and I do not see how copulation can be reconciled with life conceived and born virginally. There is no question that the primary images associate with the rebirth of baptism and with the blessing of its waters are the virginal conception of Jesus, His baptism in the Jordan, and the Resurrection, all of which are virginal. Furthermore, the quote of St. Didymus, understood in the very context of the liturgical rites used to bless the water, indicates that the sanctification of the water is virginal. And the reference to the “Immaculate womb” of the font in the rite of blessing is clearly Marian and, therefore, virginal.
To suggest otherwise is to suggest that both the Church and the Blessed Mother are not virginal but, rather, sexually penetrated by the Holy Spirit. I know West would gasp and completely deny that he intends this, but regardless of what he intends that is what is objectively suggested by his interpretation of the imagery.
In any case, the contrary would have to be established by the evidence of a valid tradition developed over the ages. Certainly, the burden of proof is on West and not on those who are appalled by his use of phallic liturgical imagery. I am waiting, but I won’t hold my breath.
Shameless Nakedness
As we have already noted there is a parallel between the virginal conception and birth of Jesus from Our Lady and the virginal conception of holiness in the Easter water. West has a penchant for unveiling feminine images and penetrating them with his interpretation of the Theology of the Body. In fact, he urges us also to unveil the Blessed Mother. We have already intimated this from his treatment of the Easter liturgy.
For years he has told a personal story of his own sexual transformation, of how he resolved a terrible temptation against chastity that he was experiencing during a time before the Blessed Sacrament by recalling all the pornographic images to which he had previously exposed himself and that he could still remember. He brought them up one by one and then asked the Lord to heal him of his twisted view of sexuality and to allow him to see the truth of the goodness of the body. When he was all done, he saw the Blessed Virgin Mary breastfeeding the infant Jesus. He says at that moment he knew what he had always been looking for when he was using pornography.
In his 1999 “Naked without Shame” tapes, he suggests that this might have been a mystical experience. I mention this, even though in his more recent presentations he may not refer to any mystical phenomena, because I think it is telling. In any case, the presentation of the story, done in West’s imitable style, lends a sense of authority to the ideas he is promoting. I will not pass judgment on his personal experience, but I will question its revelation and use to discourage prudery among the average faithful Catholic.
This story sets the tone for many of the ways in which West unveils the Blessed Mother in the interests of being “fascinated” in a holy way with the human body and avoiding prudery (cf. Heaven’s Song, pp. 37-52). I would suggest this proclivity of his has nothing to do with the teaching of John Paul II, and finds no authority in the tradition of the Church.
I am well aware of the iconographical tradition of Maria Lactans (Mary Breastfeeding), such as the many images in Italy of Madonna delle Grazie. This is an old and venerable tradition that once was very widespread and continues in various parts of the world down to this day. Sandra Meisel’s excellent article on this subject is well worth the read. I just part company with her when she, like West, chides anyone who might be a bit squeamish about such images.
I would surmise that that these images became popular when it was common to see women breastfeeding. Living in the Philippines some years ago, I was at times shocked to see women breastfeed in public with little if any effort to cover up—sometimes even in Church! No one made anything of it. I admit I was scandalized.
In America men generally consider exposure of a woman’s bosom provocative, and I assert that men who are trying to live chastely find the such exposure inappropriate, not because they think the female body is evil, or because they have a sexual hang up, but because they find too much exposed flesh in that area, regardless of the context, sexually arousing. Period.
I have been a guy for my whole life and a priest for more than sixteen years. I know well enough how men think. Women can pooh-pooh this all they want, but there is really nothing more complicated, sub-conscious or deep and dark about it than plain old male libido.
I personally have no problem with Maria Lactans, if it is done without the Classical, Pre-Raphaelite or such-like voluptuousness. It was only due to the preponderance of such images that nudity in sacred art “with a beauty exciting to lust” was condemned by the Council of Trent:
Moreover, in the invocation of saints, the veneration of relics, and the sacred use of images, every superstition shall be removed, all filthy lucre be abolished; finally, all lasciviousness be avoided; in such wise that figures shall not be painted or adorned with a beauty exciting to lust; nor the celebration of the saints, and the visitation of relics be by any perverted into revellings and drunkenness; as if festivals are celebrated to the honour of the saints by luxury and wantonness (Canons and Decrees, sess. 25).
Meisel refers in her article to the “decorous reforms of Trent,” in a not altogether favorable context, but admits that not all the images of Maria Lactans and Maria Gravida (Mary with Child) were destroyed subsequent to Trent. In fact, the council was able to distinguish the difference between the moral character of various visual images. Lust is not only a matter of interior disposition. There are in fact concrete non-subjective factors that excite lust.
In any case, I do not think, as West has suggested, that the image of Maria Lactans, however it is executed, needs to be used as a tool for the exorcism of prudishness, or that we should ask ourselves why it might make us uncomfortable and chide ourselves for having unresolved sexual tensions.
But my problem with West on this score runs considerably deeper than his attitude toward the image of Maria Lactans. In his latest book, Heaven’s Song, he has quite a bit on the Blessed Mother, which in my opinion, though I know he is sincere and well intentioned, is grossly irreverent and smacks of blasphemy.
Just as some things are just objectively immodest, some things are just objectively irreverent. As I have already shown in the section on the Paschal Candle, playing fast and loose with Christian symbolism can end by suggesting some pretty irreverent things, such as the loss of Our Lady’s virginity.
Our Lady is the Ark of the Covenant. A bit of advice of all Uzzah’s of the world: Don’t touch the Ark (cf. 1 Chronicles 13:10). Leave it behind the veil. God is not likely to strike anyone dead, but some things are too holy to be violated by our paltry eyes and hands. (And no that does not mean I think our eyes and hands are evil, just not worthy to unveil the Blessed Mother.)
Here again West invokes authority for his opinion, but in the convoluted way which seems to be somewhat habitual for him. He argues that some of the inspiration for John Paul II’s Theology of the Body was the given through the pope’s familiarity with the Marian writings of St. Louis de Montfort (78-79). In this context he analyses a particular passage of Treatise on True Devotion to Mary:
As St. Louis de Montfort put it, God sent his angel to Mary “in order to win her heart.” And on account of the “hidden delights” of his divine proposal, ‘she gave her consent.” At that moment, God poured a “chalice of ambrosia” into the womb of his virgin bride and opening to his “divine nectar,” she conceived God’s own Son. Such imagery would have given my wonderful but rather prudish grandmother cardiac arrest. For anyone experiencing palpitations de Montfort reminds us plainly: “These are the comparisons mad by the saints” (TD, nn. 252-253) (30).
This would be all well and good, except for one thing: St. Louis does not say what West claims he does. Here is the passage from True Devotion:
252. Chosen souls, slaves of Jesus in Mary, understand that after the Our Father, the Hail Mary is the most beautiful of all prayers. It is the perfect complement the most High God paid to Mary through his archangel in order to win her heart. So powerful was the effect of this greeting upon her, on account of its hidden delights, that despite her great humility, she gave her consent to the incarnation of the Word. If you say the Hail Mary properly, this compliment will infallibly earn you Mary’s good will.
253. When the Hail Mary is well said, that is, with attention, devotion and humility, it is, according to the saints, the enemy of Satan, putting him to flight; it is the hammer that crushes him, a source of holiness for souls, a joy to the angels and a sweet melody for the devout. It is the Canticle of the New Testament, a delight for Mary and glory for the most Blessed Trinity. The Hail Mary is dew falling from heaven to make the soul fruitful. It is a pure kiss of love we give to Mary. It is a crimson rose, a precious pearl that we offer to her. It is a chalice of ambrosia, a divine nectar that we offer her. These are comparisons made by the saints [emphasis mine].
St. Louis is speaking about the Hail Mary not the virginal conception of Jesus in Her womb. The “chalice of ambrosia” and “divine nectar” are not references to some kind of supernatural seminal fluid. They are references to the consoling character of the prayer of the Hail Mary. (BTW, West repeats the same argument in a web column as well, entitled “The Spousal Mystery of Christmas“).
This does not merit a line-by-line parsing. This coital imagery is suggested by West alone, not by the saint or by the pope, and so is proposed without real authority. Thus, no one should be brow beaten into feeling bad about their discomfort with it. What West claims is just not there. Perhaps he should have taken his poor grandmother more seriously.
Why is it that Christopher West argues for the existence coital imagery in the blessing of the baptismal font and in the Annunciation, doing so on the basis specious appeals to authority? I am not inquiring about his intentions, but I do see a pattern of thought which suggests to me that West is certain that John Paul II is clearly mandating that we become fascinated with the human body as a way of spiritual renewal. He then goes about and forces this interpretation on everything. As Prof. Schindler says:
In the end, West, in his disproportionate emphasis on sex, promotes a pansexualist tendency that ties all important human and indeed supernatural activity back to sex without the necessary dissimilitudo.
On the same page of Heaven’s Song where West misinterprets St. Louis, he makes his interpretation of the symbolic role of Mary in the Theology of the Body clearer:
With her freely given “yes”—and only with her freely given yes—the Heavenly Bridegroom rejoices to pour his eternal, immortal, invisible seed (his Word) within her, filling her “impregnating” her with divine life” (30).
I am not even sure who he is talking about here. Who is it that he is calling Bridegroom in the context of this insemination? Christ, (the Word) in the context of Ephesians 5? Surely, he is not going there. Christ certainly does not impregnate the Blessed Mother. So then the Holy Spirit must be the Bridegroom who impregnates Her with His Seed (the Word)? Is the fruit of Mary’s womb, then, the Word or what is conceived by the Word?
I have no gripe with referring to Mary as Spouse of the Holy Spirit, or even as Spouse of Christ. St. Francis of Assisi, for example is one of the first to speak of Mary as Spouse of the Holy Spirit:
Holy Virgin Mary, there is none like you among women born in the world. Daughter and handmaid of the heavenly Father, the almighty King, Mother of our most high Lord Jesus Christ, and Spouse of the Holy Spirit, pray for us to your most holy Son, our Lord and Master (Antiphon to the Office of the Passion).
And in another prayer he develops this idea:
. . . You are the Virgin made Church (Virgo facta Ecclesia), chosen by the most holy Father of heaven and consecrated by Him with His most holy beloved Son and the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete. On you descended and in you still remains all the fullness of grace and every good. Hail, His Palace; hail, His Tabernacle; hail His House. Hail his Robe; hail, His Handmaid; hail, His Mother. And hail all you holy virtues, who by the grace and the light of the Holy Spirit, are infused into the hearts of the faithful, so that faithless no longer, they may be made faithful servants of God through you (Salutation of the Blessed Virgin).
Our Lady’s spousal relationship to the Holy Spirit is seen here in the context of the His mission of sanctification, the paradigm of which is the Annunciation, a virginal conception which illumines the meaning of our infusion (not impregnation) with grace and virtue in baptism. Our Lady is the Virgin made Church, and so the Church, along with its members, is virgin made. The Holy Spirit does not beget Christ. He is not His father.
St. Ephrem in the fourth century is the first to refer to Mary as the Spouse of Christ:
. . I am mother because of Your conception, and bride am I because of your chastity. Handmaiden and daughter of blood and water [am I] whom You redeemed and baptized (quoted in Gambero, 117).
Here again this spousal attribution has nothing to do with begetting as is obvious from the reference to chastity.
These are venerable traditions. But they simply do not translate into the absurd and idea that Christ could be his own father or that the Holy Spirit is the father of Jesus.
The fact is that in the tradition of the Catholic Church the Holy Spirit is not referred to as the Father of Jesus. Our Lord has only one Father from whom He is eternally generated as Son. He has a Father in heaven, but no mother. And we say that on earth He is conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary. He has a Mother on earth, but no father. St. John Chrysostom (d. 407) writes:
The Son of God has no father and no mother. But how? Yes, he is without a father according to his earthly generation; he is without a mother according to his heavenly generation. For he had neither a father on earth nor a mother in heaven (Gambero, 179).
The Church is precise when she says that Mary conceives the Christ virginally through the power of the Holy Spirit. And this is why she avoids speaking of the Virgin’s impregnation. There is no supernatural insemination. There is no coital metaphor by which we come to better understand the virginal conception of Our Lord in Our Lady’s womb.
Again, because West artificially forces his particular view of TOB on everything he looks upon, he unwittingly insinuates that Our Lady is penetrated by the Holy Spirit and that there is some carnal insemination or physicality of the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. I know full well that West does not intend this, but he jumps in where angels (and Fathers of the Church) fear to tread and then finds the implications of his assertions staring back at him. This is precisely why the Church does not use these metaphors in the way he does.
West rightly understands that analogy works two ways, both up and down (cf. Heaven’s Song, 132-133); however, I think he is confused when he suggests that the higher heavenly realities point downward. No, the earthly realities point upwards because they are visible signs of heavenly realities, and the truth of the heavenly realities, given to us through divine revelation, help to illumine the meaning of the earthly signs, but they are not signs themselves. In the case of the middle realities like the virginal conception, they are signs, yes, but they point up not down. There is no divine coitus that points down to the virginal conception, and Our Lady’s conception of Jesus does not point further down to the coition of the baptismal waters. In fact, the virginal conception, sans divine coitus, points up to the fulfillment of spousal love as it is realized in the unitive way and the beatific vision. And it illumines the signs below it without itself being a sign of lower things, by focusing our attention on the true meaning of earthly marital love, namely, the love of Christ for the Church and the love and obedience of the Church to Christ.
It is a responsibility of a theologian to be aware of the possible implications of his use of analogy, including those that he may not intend. For many who do not understand theology, they may not find all of this a big deal; however, Schindler points out what, early on in the history of an idea, might appear only to be a minor point, once clarified theologically, could turn out to be something that the magisterium has to deal with. He also says that the struggle over subtle distinctions is not merely an academic exercise, as is shown by the fact that “all of the most important matters involved in Church doctrines turn on just such subtle distinctions.” I submit that West fails to make some important subtle distinctions and errs by forcing coital interpretations where they don’t belong. The result is pansexualism.
Further on in Heaven’s Song West returns to the teaching of St. Louis about Our Lady in True Devotion, quoting phrases like “untold riches, beauties, rarities and delights” [of Mary’s Garden], “Mary’s virginal bosom,” “nourished with the milk of her grace,” “in the bosom of Mary [we are to] grow mature in enlightenment, in holiness, in experience and in wisdom,” “It is upon [Mary’s] breast that all good things come to me” (79, quoting TD 261, 264, 156, 216).
He then goes on, as he so often does, to admonish those of us who might be uncomfortable with this language. However, it is really not the language of the saint that I have a problem with, but the context and methodology in which it is being presented by West. Our Lady is both physical and spiritual mother; however, in reference to us, “poor banished children of Eve,” She is only a spiritual mother. Yes, of course Her physical maternity points up to Her spiritual maternity, and we can benefit by understanding the metaphors used by St. Louis, but he does not seem to be suggesting that we become fascinated with the Blessed Mother’s body as West asserts he does.
I am inclined to interpret West’s own experience of Maria Lactans, as an understanding that sexual desire finds its ultimate meaning in the union of the divine and human exemplified by the sign of the nursing Child at His Mother’s breast, and that West understands that the metaphorical nursing suggested by St. Louis is not a some kind of virtuous fulfillment of sexual desire. However, in the context of the issues I have raised here, it seems that West is his own worst enemy, because he seems hell-bent on placing coital imagery where it does not belong. And it certainly does not belong with the Ark of the Covenant. Hands off, please.
Don’t Touch that Veil
I just want to conclude by saying once again that I hope with Christopher West that all men, male and female, may through the comprehensive teaching of the Church experience the full effects of the redemption, including the redemption of the body. Like Janet Smith, I applaud West for his efforts at mining John Paul II’s Theology of the Body and pioneering its popular formulation. But at this point we need to be careful to distinguish between what comes from the magisterium and the saints, and what comes from West’s unanchored speculation. No matter how much novelty may sound like good news that does not equate it with the gospel or with the teaching of the Church. We just need to be crystal clear about that.
Schindler was exactly correct when he said that the uneasiness of many individuals with the ethereal excursions of West “is a consequence not only or always of unconscious “Puritanism” on their part, but often simply of their spontaneous and authentic human and Catholic instincts.”
I have to admit, I rolled my eyes a bit as Professor Smith confessed her prudery over the Paschal Candle; and likewise, I was a bit surprised when Professor Healy admitted that he was taken aback when West suggested before an audience that a certain questioner might have some sexual hang ups, and then bent over backwards to defend West’s behavior. It’s like we have fallen under the spell of the prudery police.
Much can be done to avoid the extremes to which men, male and female, are prone to go in matters of sexuality, but the harping about prudery every time someone disagrees with West needs to stop. It is not helpful and, as I believe I have shown above, it simply is not accurate.
There is nothing wrong with leaving the body under the veil and only revealing it to one’s spouse when the two find themselves within the sanctuary of the nuptial garden. For this no one needs to feel guilty or damaged. It is not a matter of prudery, inspired by the Manichean demon. It is a matter of reverence, inspired by the Queen of Virgins.
Father Angelo Mary Geiger, a Franciscan Friar of the Immaculate, blogs at MaryVictrix.com.
If you'd like to read the latest on culture-of-life issues, particularly efforts to defend and protect life via state and federal legislation, check out the posts I've been writing as part of my "day job," over at the Americans United for Life blog.
Comments closed—please leave your comments on the AUL blog.
Washington Times' Amanda Carpenter spotlights 'Sex and Chastity'
Amanda Carpenter, the Washington Times columnist who is a frequent guest on news TV shows such as the "O'Reilly Factor," wrote me yesterday to ask if I would speak about my blog entry on Chastity Bono's "sex change," "Sex and Chastity."
The story appears today in Carpenter's "Hot Button" column. Many thanks to her for giving me the opportunity to expand upon some of the points I made in the blog post and in my book The Thrill of the Chaste. Here is what I had to say:
""I am born again, but in the body that I was supposed to have. Chastity [Bono] is seeking a rebirth that's really a death of the entire body she was given.
"Any attempt to change one's sex is really an attempt to kill one's self. When I was younger and sought sex outside marriage, living the life I thought would bring happiness, it instead brought loneliness and made me suicidal. What I experienced in my conversion was the death of the things I didn't like about myself, and a rebirth of the person who was meant to live in the body I was born with. I think that is the only way one can truly have peace in both body and soul."
"I knew it was not consistent with my beliefs. So that’s hypocritical, and I don’t want to be a hypocrite. And I could just feel the emptiness… it didn’t feel good. The feeling afterwards. Just that empty sort of… weird space. And I’d had enough."
The entire interview with Kravitz is well worth reading, revealing the workings of grace in his own life and also in that of his Jewish father.
RELATED: I have written in The Thrill of the Chaste and elsewhere about similar experiences of what Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen calls "black grace"—the grace of realizing that one is seeking the Infinite where it cannot be found. With God's help, it can lead to the "white grace" of conversion, causing one to seek the Love that goes beyond sex.
On the day I went under the knife last week for surgery to preserve my fertility, another 40-year-old woman, Chastity Bono, announced through a spokesman that she was ending her own.
As a child, I felt a kinship with Chastity. We were close to the same age, and we looked alike (that's me at right). Watching her on TV in the early 1970s, as my own parents' marital problems were propelling them towards separation and divorce, I envied how Chastity's parents, holding her as they closed each week's show with "I Got You Babe," seemed to place her at the center of their lives.
But Chastity's parents divorced when she was six years old—just as mine did when I was her age—and her mother, like mine, carted her along as a third wheel while earnestly trying to "find herself" through New Age seminars, boyfriends, and "adult" parties.
A People magazine cover less than a year and a half after her mom and dad's split shows Cher proffering bawling baby Elijah Blue Allman like the latest fashion accessory as blissed-out baby-daddy Gregg Allman—whom, Cher insists to the magazine's reporter, "stopped drinking and has stopped doing any kind of drugs"—vies with her to see who can best stare into the middle distance. Only Chastity's eyes are focused—and she is gazing on her mother with a transparent, wistful longing that is heartbreaking.
The People article depicts young Chastity's domestic life being as pitiful as one could imagine. Cher and Gregg as "content to watch movies on cable-TV at home or, on a rare night out, hit the Sunday buffets at ex-neighbor Hugh Hefner's."
Eleven years later, I was at New York University, immersed in the unanchored life I would later describe in The Thrill of the Chaste—and Chastity was there too, although I didn't know it, doing her same-sex version of urban exploration.
The formative episode of Chastity's sex life would be her relationship with "Joan," a woman just two years younger than Cher. Chastity's life was shattered when her lover's died of lymphoma in 1994. A year later, as a recent People article puts it, she "finally ... publicly embraced gay activism by posing for the cover of the gay magazine The Advocate, proclaiming herself 'out at last' and taking a high-profile job with the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD)."
Chaz
Seen in the context of her whole life, Chaz's announcement of her sex change is a tragedy on so many levels. She was named after a movie her parents were making at the time she was conceived in 1969; its title character, played by her mother, became a whore at a Mexican brothel. Before she was in first grade, she had, for all intents and purposes, lost her mother to Hollywood hedonism. In her 20s, when she should have been coming into her own identity as a woman, she put her love and her identity into a woman of her mother's generation—and lost her too.
What surprise is it, then, that this woman, who was denied from earliest childhood the opportunity to know true maternal love, would opt to deny herself the gift of living and loving as only a woman can?
But her greatest loss was that of her father, whose life was cut short at 52 by a skiing accident in January 1998. Unlike her mother, he had always been supportive of her, responding to her "coming out" with love rather than rejection. But Chastity had difficulty relating to him during his final years, when he was a California Congressman, because she was incensed at his opposition to same-sex marriage. "He accepted me, but his politics didn't," she later told People. "I didn't talk to him about it, but I was angry." At the time of his death, she had not seen him for a year. "If I have one regret, it's that I didn't speak to my father before he died," she told people. "It took his death to make me realize how much he meant to me. ... I have yet to find a 'blessing in disguise' about his death. I just wish this incredible love we had for each other was the taste left in my mouth, instead of the distance."
It seems Chastity has always had a hole in her heart that could not be filled. I know what that is like because I have felt it myself. It is only because of God's grace that I have learned, not without pain, to endure it from hour to hour and day to day; to invite Jesus to enter into it, receiving Him through the Eucharist, and to begin, in His love, to learn how the space in my heart can shelter others regardless of whether they are able to shelter me.
I believe that, rather than live with the vacuum, Chastity is seeking to eliminate what she sees as its source. To her, it will be a physical confirmation of an identity she already possesses. Perhaps, in a sense, she is right. "Chastity the girl" may have died a long time ago.
But there is another Chastity: "Chastity the mother." The woman who, whether or not she ever were to become a physical mother, still possesses the great gift, as a woman, to love the world and the people in it as a mother can.
In killing Chastity the girl, Chaz is killing Chastity the mother as well. This is how the Sixties end—not with a bang but with a whimper.
If you'd like to get a taste of The Thrill, the introduction and first chapter of the book are available on the Christianity Today Web site. You can also learn more about it at thrillofthechaste.com.
A couple of years ago, when I was just beginning to give talks, I spoke to Catholic young adults in a Cleveland, Ohio, church basement [hence the prominent bingo sign] about what my book reveals that popular culture omits.
Damsels in distress A guest post by FR. ANGELO MARY GEIGER F.I.
As one interested in helping to bring about a revival of Christian Chivalry, I have thought fondly of the image of the “damsel in distress” as being both iconic and inspiring of the chivalric ideals. I was horrified, then, to see such an honorable term being disparaged by those otherwise promoting the ideals of chivalry. Call me naive or nostalgic (or worse), but I cannot for the life of me see anything wrong with it.
I will admit, if we understand “damsel in distress” as it is caricatured, for example, by the film image of the pretty woman being tied screaming to the train tracks by Dastardly Dan and then being rescued by Agent Jim West, then there is much to be disparaged. The poor helpless thing is abused by one womanizer only to be rescued by another, and all the while is oblivious to everything but the attention she is getting. The ideals of chivalry have always been partially obscured by the cult of “courtly love.” There is nothing new under the sun.
Television and film have that curious ability of turning unalloyed gold into lead, and contrariwise, of cultivating a fondness for the most obvious absurdities. We have learned to despise feminine vulnerability and celebrate the wonders of the Bionic Woman.
So what is the “damsel in distress,” and why should her place in the venerable history of womanhood be preserved and honored? To answer this question we must first examine the contemporary feminist trend to idolize the Amazon.
Ms. Rambo
TV and movies are rife with tough, violent women nowadays. And it’s a scary thing. The movie tough girl look likes a starlet but fights like Rambo.
I am reminded of the Greeks who invented the Amazon myth as a kind of horror story. No men resided in Amazon territory. Once a year the Amazons would travel to a neighboring tribe where they would allow themselves to be impregnated. All the male children were either put to death, sent back to their fathers or left in the wilderness. Nice.
The modern version is not just a horror story; it is feminists' vicarious revenge, although, as usual, women are the losers in this gender horseplay. Misandry just ends in the frustration that women aren’t really men.
Not only are feminists in the mood to caricature men as jerks and buffoons, now they are literally kicking men’s rear ends–but only in Hollywood. No, in reality the Amazon myth is just a myth. The day all-women teams compete on a par with men in the NFL is the day I will believe otherwise. I am well aware that there are individual exceptions to this, but that just proves the rule, doesn’t it?
The Ms. Rambo fantasy is a sub-created world where women have their complete independence and men get payback from way back. I suppose it expresses the modern mood of male guilt over the past, when men and women believed that they were really different from each other. Women get their revenge all right, but at the expense of their femininity.
Women have, in fact, achieved a great deal of independence, some of it particularly critical in the light of divorce, abandonment and fatherlessness. Both single and married women have asserted their prowess in the public square and shown themselves formidable competition for men. In particular, many single moms have managed to create functioning families without a father.
But radical feminists have asserted women’s prowess most of all through divorce, abortion and birth control. After all, traditional childbearing has to go if women are to really be free of the dominance of men. Radical feminists have not yet figured out how to create a “woman only” utopia, so until they do, men are not quite as expendable as they would like to think.
In fact, in this charade men still win, don’t they? Now men have sex with women without consequences, and even when the woman keeps the baby, men feel more entitled than ever to opt out. It’s still a man’s world.
The Weaker Sex
Yes, women, like it are not, are the weaker sex, and while to say this is anathema in the public square, in my experience most women do not deny it, or are even inclined to deny it. Many will assume that by saying “weaker sex,” I mean “inferior sex,” which is not at all the case, nor does it even logically follow.
It is a women’s capacity to bear a child more than anything else that makes her the weaker sex. Physique and hormonal instability are secondary when compared to the immense vulnerability of female fertility. Men don’t get pregnant and have no fear of being abandoned by the mother of their child. The potential for motherhood is a woman’s greatest gift, but by its very nature it is something she is not capable of safeguarding by herself. She needs to be protected.
If anything, the ability to bear a child makes a woman superior to men, not inferior, but it certainly does not make her stronger. Alice Von Hildebrand, in her little book, The Privilege of Being a Woman, points out very clearly that the “weakness” of a woman does not mean that she is “less intelligent, less talented, less reliable, less moral, etc.” (35). She says that a woman’s weakness has both its cons and pros. (I paraphrase.) On the con side there is emotional vulnerability, greater sensitivity and openness to being wounded, emotional impressionability and sentimentality and emotional vulnerability to less than sincere men. On the pro side there is the fineness of womanhood in which her fragility and beauty are inherently connected; a woman’s weakness is one of the main motives for the promotion of chivalrous and courteous behavior; it is the fineness and beauty of vulnerability which tends to humanize men and promote the primacy charity (cf. 36-47).
Now, I know I will get arguments from women that point to certain facets of human life where women generally manifest themselves as stronger than men—for example, in the ability to suffer and in the ability to persevere in the rigors of parenthood. However, full-fledged feminists would not count these examples as strength; quite the opposite.
All this being said, it is the vulnerability of feminine fertility, more than in any other way, that leaves the feminists ambivalent over the woman’s capacity for motherhood. They know motherhood is a great good, but it is also one that puts them at a very real disadvantage.
Babies as Parasites
According to pro-life feminist Mary Krane Derr, feminists have alternately defended a woman’s distinctive capacity to bear children and then capitulated to the tendency to self-devaluation resulting from the changes that take place in a woman’s body during pregnancy. Most feminists, however, whether defending or attacking motherhood, have advocated for abortion. This ambivalence concerning motherhood, together with the gut reaction support of abortion, quite naturally has manifested itself in the regard of pregnancy as a disease and the fetus as an aggressor or parasite.
Derr quotes from a 1969 play by Myrna Lamb, But What Have You Done for Me Lately? It is another version of the Ms. Rambo myth in which the endgame always finds women still inferior and still the losers. The only consolation here is in sharing the misery:
. . . The drama depicts the reactions of a man in whom a pregnant uterus was forcibly implanted, clarifying for him the anger, desperation, and anguish of a woman when she faces the same dilemma:
“Why should I give this . . . this thing representation?” he cries. “It is nothing to me. I am not responsible for it or where it is nor do I wish to be. I have a life, an important life. I have work, important work . . . and this mushroom which you have visited upon me in your madness has no rights, no life, no importance to anyone, certainly not to the world. It has nothing. It has no existence . . . A tumor. A parasite. This has been foisted upon me? and then I am told that I owe it primary rights to life? My rights are subsidiary! This insanity! I do not want this thing in my body! It does not belong there. I want it removed. Immediately. Safely.”
The pregnant uterus he finds in him was implanted by a woman he once impregnated and abandoned. She remembers what it was like to have that unwanted disease and speaks for all women like her who are deprived of the surgery that would cure the unwanted pregnancy:
“Our work suffered. Our futures hung from a gallows. Guilt and humiliation and ridicule and shame assailed us. Our bodies. Our individual unique familiar bodies, suddenly invaded by strange unwelcome parasites, and we were denied the right to rid our own bodies of these invaders by a society dominated by righteous male chauvinists of both sexes who identified with the little clumps of cells and gave them precedence over the former owners of the host bodies.”
Wouldn’t that be the ultimate revenge, to force men, against their will to bear children? Do these women really hate themselves that much? It seems so.
Derr also points to the same self-devaluating root when considering the cause of anorexia. Studies have shown that the cult of thinness (which now seems even vogue in fashion and has resulted in the death of high profile models) is connected to many women’s discomfort with their own bodies, which they consider inferior, and that drives them to shed their feminine curves and appear more like a man.
No, women are not inferior and pregnancy is not a disease. Women need to rediscover their own dignity in that which is at the same time their vulnerability. Derr concludes her article:
Such a transformed understanding of gestation can give women the confidence to demand proper recognition of pregnancy as a truly indispensable contribution that they, and only they, can make to human life. Indeed, women must make this demand if they wish to achieve full liberation. If feminists are to heal women’s estrangement from their bodies, they must not think of pregnancy as disease, even when it occurs in tremendously unsupportive contexts. When they accept this construction of pregnancy, they only perpetuate the female tendency to lash out at the self rather than challenge societal conditions that deny the worthiness of the self.
The “societal conditions” to which Derr refers are many, but clearly one of those conditions is the devaluating of femininity by men, and the consequent acceptance and assimilation of that devaluation by women themselves. For some feminists, achieving “full liberation” means to reject all gender differences beyond biology as oppressive social constructs. It means gaining the strength not to be dependent on men at all. If this is what full liberation means, it is hard to imagine its achievement apart from birth control, abortion and divorce. The only other avenue, it seems would be lesbianism, a path, which logic based on false premises, has led some feminists to take. As Charlotte Bunch explains in Lesbians in Revolt:
Lesbianism is a threat to the ideological, political, personal, and economic basis of male supremacy. The Lesbian threatens the ideology of male supremacy by destroying the lie about female inferiority, weakness, passivity, and by denying women’s ‘innate’ need for men (even for pro-creation if the science of cloning is developed).
It’s a brave new world.
The Emancipation of Domesticity
It seems that modern feminists are more afraid and jealous of men than they care to admit. The feminist cry for emancipation from men is a misfiring femininity, a woman’s natural grace, an exhortation to men to be fair and humane, turned shrill and ugly. Emancipation has come to mean “free” to become like a man, which is to say, something not at all like a woman.
The absurdity of this strikes me in the gut (pun intended), as when popular culture play acts and allows Ms. Rambo to stand on the top of her heap of conquered and broken boys. As much as I pity the poor deluded girl, I pity the rest of us as well. The Amazon myth has trampled us all.
Feminists admonish men to give them quarter, but not to respect them. And men don’t. Abortion and birth control have not raised the status of women one iota. Abandonment and fatherlessness are a plague upon family and civil life. No one is better for it, certainly not women, but neither are men nor children. Feminists are manlier and less feminine, and for that reason they are less humane, and therefore, so is everyone else.
Just as men in film and television pretend to be beat up by women, so real-world men comply with the demands of the feminists and meanwhile snicker privately at the foolish girls who have guaranteed a man’s right to be a perpetually irresponsible, puerile, post-pubescent, and juvenile. Ladies, I hope you are happy.
Unfortunately, I think many women are quite happy. Gone are the days when they were regarded as the guardians of chastity and domestic life. One may no longer assume that the bimbo is dumb. The real feminine prowess has been cultivated and refined into a college educated, hyper-sexualized form of manipulation. The women’s clothing section of the local Wal-Mart now looks like some out of the way, sleazy sex shop. It’s the new, smart, emancipated look. The war of the sexes goes on, and everyone is losing.
Women are, in fact, inherently the weaker sex; however, the whole world is at the mercy of this weakness. Unless women once again become the guardians of chastity and domestic life, we are all doomed. The dignity and power of a woman lies in her prerogative to say yes or no. She becomes a queen or a plaything with the well-placed whisper of one little word.
The whole world turns on this power, and it must be defended unto the death. It is both the stuff of adventure and a primordial, domestic thing. But isn’t domestic life the real adventure, the place where every day is perilous and uncertain, where the whole world hangs in the balance? Yes, the power of a woman’s consent is a domestic reality, one pertaining to marriage and procreation before anything else, but it extends to the whole of civilized life. G.K. Chesterton, perhaps the most chivalrous man of the twentieth century, had this to say about the “emancipation of domesticity”:
But when people begin to talk about this domestic duty as not merely difficult but trivial and dreary, I simply give up the question. For I cannot with the utmost energy of imagination conceive what they mean. When domesticity, for instance, is called drudgery, all the difficulty arises from a double meaning in the word. If drudgery only means dreadfully hard work, I admit the woman drudges in the home, as a man might drudge at the Cathedral of Amiens or drudge behind a gun at Trafalgar. But if it means that the hard work is more heavy because it is trifling, colorless and of small import to the soul, then as I say, I give it up; I do not know what the words mean.
To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labors and holidays; to be Whiteley within a certain area, providing toys, boots, sheets cakes, and books; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene: I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it. How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No; a woman’s function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness (What’s Wrong with the World).
I can hear the groans. No, I am not saying that a woman’s place is only in the home, but I am saying that it is primarily there. A woman is not accidentally maternal; she is essentially so. Edith Stein, St. Theresa Benedicta of the Cross, put it succinctly: a woman’s vocation is “empathy.”
On the face of it, empathy is a weakness. It is openness to experience and participate in what others experience, especially pain. It makes a woman vulnerable.
But without it, we all die.
Damsels in Distress
That brings me more directly to the question of the “damsel in distress.” It is a chivalric image of vulnerability and innocence. Of course, such an image is not complete without the “knight in shining armor,” who conveys the sense of courage and heroism. The image, completed with the damsel in distress being saved by the knight in shining armor, is the picture of courtesy and contains as happy an ending as anyone could hope for. Perhaps the word that best describes it is one coined by Tolkien: eucatastrophe, meaning the complete reversal of catastrophe, idealized as the triumph of the Cross made available to all of us in the Eucharist.
Historically one of the earliest and most important examples of the image as it entered the West is the legend of St. George and the Dragon. The story is by no means an exclusively Western treasure (I think of Russia and Lebanon, for example), but it is particularly important for an understanding of Western chivalry (especially in England).
As the legend goes, or at least one version of it, a dragon took up its abode at the spring from which the locals drew their water. The dragon thus took custody of the spring and demanded a price for its use. The only way the townsfolk could draw their water was by the offering of someone to the dragon as a human sacrifice. Each day a new victim was selected by common agreement through the drawing of lots. One fateful day, the lot fell to the princess of the kingdom, and even the intervention of her father, the king, was not enough to save her from the dragon; the people insisted that the arrangement be respected. At this point, St. George providentially rode up on his steed and volunteered his services to face the dragon, which he did to great effect, the dragon being slain and the damsel rescued. The awestruck townspeople as a result abandoned the ways of paganism and became Christians.
Crusaders, it is said, brought the story back from the East and transformed it to fit the times. Christian tradition and hagiography was transformed into quasi-secular romance. Certainly, for courtiers who heard this story, the “art of courtly love,” could easily serve as the hermeneutic for the understanding of the story, in which case, it would not be any different from the story of the rescue of a damsel in the Arthurian cycle. However, the Christian symbolism, even in the most embellished version of the legend, is unmistakable: the Christ figure enters into combat with the Demon and rescues the Virgin Church from his clutches. This is paradise regained. In some versions of the legend, there is even a tree (Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil) to which the maiden is tied and from which she is rescued.
The damsel in distress is the bride of Ephesians 5. This passage of St. Paul on marriage is a holy incantation and exorcism that scatters the feminist demons to their dark and gloomy pits. St. Paul, the “misogynist,” is actually the guardian of feminine weakness and the promoter of chivalry. He admonishes the coward Adam and kneels at the feet of the hero Christ. Both men and women are better for it, if by casting off the modern prejudice they can just for a moment wave away the wafting mist of the Ms. Rambo deception and see the Bridegroom and Bride for who they truly are.
Damsels Not So in Distress
We live in an unreal age, when we have “pregnant men,” surgically enhanced beauty queens and the Hollywood myth of the female soldier. I don’t say this lightly, or in any way to disparage the brave women who serve in our armed forces, but take the example of PFC Jessica Lynch, who was lionized by the Pentagon as the Rambo-like heroine of the Iraq war, but as it turns out, had never fired her weapon. This story is not only symptomatic of Pentagon propaganda, but of the general acceptance of the Ms. Rambo myth. That myth is putting women in harms way in a manner that goes far beyond the ordinary dangers of military life. Sexual abuse of military women by military men is of “jaw-dropping proportions.
But what about the valiant women of history and literature: Judith, Esther, Jael, St. Joan of Arc, Luthien, Eowyn, ect.? Examine each of their stories and you will find a woman driven by love and a prophetic spirit, not someone preoccupied with the worldly ways of domination and prowess. In each case, more importantly you will find a woman who picks up the sword that a man, derelict of his duty, has dropped and from which he has walked away. In each case you will find a victress who conquers not so much by force of arms, but by her beauty, virtue and charm.
Judith, that type of Our Lady, for example, is the ultimate femme fatale, beautiful and virtuous, who lulls her enemy by her charms and then decapitates him in his lustful sleep. Being the proper lady that she is, she is accompanied to and from her encounter by one of her maids who carries back to the city the head of the enemy in her purse. The men of Judith’s city who were too afraid and desperate to solve the problem themselves are left with no other resource than to sing her praises:
Thou art the glory of Jerusalem, thou art the joy of Israel, thou art the honor of our people: For thou hast done manfully, and thy heart has been strengthened, because thou hast loved chastity, and after thy husband hast not known any other: therefore also the hand of the Lord hath strengthened thee, and therefore thou shalt be blessed for ever (Judith 15:10, 11).
In regard to the dangerous character of virtuous femininity, which character is perfectly harmonious with a woman’s character as damsel in distress, Chesterton said it best:
I have little doubt that when St. George had killed the dragon he was heartily afraid of the princess.
The Valiant Woman
Who shall find a valiant woman? Far, and from the uttermost coasts is the price of her.
St. Bonaventure writes that this verse from the Book of Proverbs (31:10) is prophetic of the Blessed Virgin’s fortitude, especially at the foot of the Cross. The “price of her,” that is, her worth, is the fruit of Her womb, which fruit she bore, offered and possesses. Thus she bore the price in joy at Bethlehem; She paid the price in sorrow on Calvary; and now She possesses the price as Mediatrix in heaven.
Far off and from the last ends is her price; and who is she? This woman, the Blessed Virgin, is the price, through which we prevail to obtain the Kingdom of Heaven; or it is Hers, that is, taken from Her, paid by Her and possessed by Her: taken from Her in the Incarnation of the Word; paid by Her in the redemption of the human race; and possessed by Her in the gaining of the glory of paradise. She brought forth, paid and possessed that price; therefore it is Hers as the one originating, as the one paying and as the one possessing. That woman brought forth that price as one strong and holy; paid it as one strong and pious; possessed it as one strong and vigorous (Conferences on the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit, Conference 6).
Mary is the ideal woman and the iconic Damsel in Distress. St. Bonventure chooses to speak in reference to Her when discussing thd Gift of Fortitude. He makes a distinction between the courage of action, which he attributes properly to man, and that of suffering, which he attributes to the woman: “Men are they that do; women are they that suffer” (pati). The root here of the word suffer is passio (literally, “that which is undergone”), so in the first place it indicates receptivity, an openness to what it is real; secondarily, but most importantly, it is openness to suffering willed out of love. Mary is the Queen of Martyrs and the Sorrowful Mother. She is the Queen of the Seven Swords.
In the friars chapel in Griswold, Connecticut, the rood beam spans the width of the Church and separates the sanctuary from the nave. On it a summary of St. Bonaventure’s doctrine are carved and gilded:
Pretium Redemptionis Nostrae Maria Protulit, Persolvit Possidet,
that is, “Mary bore, offered (paid) and possesses the price of our redemption.”
Taken out of the context of Christian revelation the idea of men acting and women suffering could and has been interpreted to mean: “Men are those who do unto; women are those who are done unto.” But one must recognize that the context for this relationship in the mind of saints like Bonaventure is John 19 and Ephesians 5. The Ms. Rambo myth and the accoutrements that go along with it, like contraception and abortion, are the paraphernalia of a world that has rejected the cross, where mutual manipulation is the rule, where persons are used, not loved.
Historical chivalry from the point of view of Christian ethics was about channeling the courage of action in such a way that it respected the high dignity of the courage of suffering. Women were venerated precisely for the fine delicacy of their beauty, which is exemplary of everything that is worth dying for, namely, the true, good and beautiful.
Unfortunately, the ethical ideal in historical chivalry was all too often just that, an ideal. The courtiers and troubadours too often idealized woman in a pagan sense, that is, they made her a goddess, who was to be served and flattered in the hope that she might shed the dew of her grace upon the poor suitor. So reads one of the rules of courtly love: “Being obedient in all things to the commands of ladies, thou shalt ever strive to ally thyself to the service of Love.”
I can never take this kind of thing seriously. Dan Brown tried to resurrect this nonsense in his unbearable Da Vinci Code. Poor little Sophie, so the backstory goes, misinterpreted the sex-rite in which she had discovered her grandfather engaged and refused to speak to him for the rest of his life. Only after his death, when she is fully enlightened by the much smarter men around her, is she able to realize that what had horrified her in reality it is the most respectable form of goddess worship. And guess what? Sophie also eventually learns that, descending as she does from the bloodline of Christ, she has a special title to the cult of the goddess. The culminating passage where this tripe is fully revealed to Sophie reads like a pious exposition of the most holy mysteries, when in fact it is the diabolic mutterings of the demon of lust. And of course, Sophie takes it all in as the enlightened little sex object she was meant to be.
This is also a reason why I fear what I think has rightly been termed the pansexualism of Christopher West. I do not wish to connect him with the paganism of Dan Brown, but I am always suspicious of pious male veneration of the female body. I am not talking about an ordinary red-blooded attraction. I am talking about the refined, studied and sophisticated trappings of sexual obsession cloaked in euphemisms. Do I think this is what West is engaged in? No, but the penchant for unveiling the mystery in explicit language is dangerous.
Chesterton points to the contrast of worldly and other-worldly regard for femininity in his poem “The Ballad of King Arthur.” The historical information we have regarding Arthur is very slim. All we know are the bits and pieces salvaged by monks from the Dark Ages, mostly about what battles he fought in, especially, the Battle of Mount Badon and concerning the fact that he “carried the image of Mary, Ever-virgin, on his shoulder, through whose virtue and that of Jesus Christ,” he was victorious. Chesterton writes:
King Arthur on Mount Badon Bore Our Lady on his shield High on that human altar held Above the howling field, High on that living altar heaved As a giant heaves a tower She saw all heathenry appalled And the turning of the hour.
But the woman that the world remembers, when the story of Arthur is retold and embellished, is not the Queen of Virgin’s but the queen that betrayed the king:
The Queen that wronged King Arthur’s house Had lovers in all lands And many a poet praised her pride At many a queen’s commands: And the King shrank to a shadow Watching behind a screen And the Queen walked with Lancelot And the world walked with the Queen.
But, as we might expect, Chesterton does not walk with the world or with the Queen “that wronged King Arthur’s house, but with the Queen of the Seven Swords:
Stillness like lightning strike the street And doubt and deep amaze And many a courtly bard be dumb Beside his butt and bays And many a patron prince turned pale— If one such flash made plain The Queen that stands at his right hand If Arthur comes again.
Guinevere was not so much a damsel in distress, even as she was rescued from the flames by Lancelot, because she was a manipulator just like Lancelot. On the other hand, Our Lady is the true Damsel in Distress and Christ, the true Knight in Shining Armor, because they are one in the mutual freedom of self-giving. Arthur, the “once and future king” will find the honor of his kingdom regained, when the lesson of the Quest of the Holy Grail is learned by the mass of men. Chivalry cannot be a sham and we cannot live without the real thing.
Yes, women need to be protected. They are damsels in distress. The man should stand guard in front of the veil. The courage of action should be put into the service of the courage of suffering. Christ on the Cross did what the first Adam was afraid to do: He protected his Bride. He entered into battle with the dragon and freed the Virgin tied to the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. He was slain in the process, but in the power of His paschal mystery has presented her to himself, a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish (Ephesians 5: 27).
Hail Victress, standing fast, The banner is lifted. Unfurl the sign of salvation, And storm with Thy Lord the lair of the Dragon.
Holy Lily of our knighthood, Draw us to Thy side To die with Thee, con-crucified in Him.
The Chivalrous Woman
The idea of damsels in distress implies that women need men. But men also need women. And this is not only a matter of marriage and family, or of matrimonial complementarity. It is also a matter of chivalry. Men need women to be chivalrous.
There is a grain of truth in the chivalrous ideal of the service of women. But it has nothing to do with the mutual manipulation that has continued through the ages, even after the presumed death of chivalry. Even among those who hate chivalry, the mutual manipulation of the sexes is a sacred doctrine. Ms. Rambo is tolerated by her brothers in arms because now she is one of the boys. She can use her sexuality on her own terms, but the game is on. Let us see whether she succeeds. She no longer has any claim to protection.
Mutual manipulation can never end unless men are protective and women want to be protected. Motherhood is worthy of the highest veneration. Vulnerability is the delicacy of a flower. If men do not love this, they are not worthy to be loved.
Women need to hold men to the highest standards. They need to be choosy in regard to the men to whom they say yes. This is the real power of a woman: her fiat. On it the whole of history depends. What John Paul II reminds us, and Christopher West stresses, is that the “freedom of the gift” with respect to man and woman in the mystery of marriage is absolutely inviolable, and that the preservation of that gift belongs to the man (the male) in a special way (TOB 15; 33.1-2). A woman’s yes is sacred and it needs to be protected. But if woman does not value her fiat properly, if she sells it off cheaply, she has no real escape. It is either subjugation in the classical sense or the Ms. Rambo myth.
Geoffroi de Charny was a fourteenth century French knight and bearer of the Oriflamme, who wrote a well known manual for knights called The Book of Chivalry. In that work he writes of the duty of courtly women to hold their men to the highest standards. For the most part that meant that they were only to give their love to knights who had won worldly honor, and who could safely be named a lover of some man without their own loss of worldly honor:
And if one of the other ladies loves the miserable wretch who, for no good reason, is unwilling to bear arms, she will see him come into that very hall and perceive and understand that no one pays him any attention or shows him honor or notices him, and few know who he is, and those who do think nothing of him, and he remains hidden behind everyone else, for no one brings him forward. Indeed, if there is such a lady, she must feel very uneasy and disconsolate when she sees that she has devoted time and thought to loving and admiring a man who no one admires or honors, and that they never hear a word said of any great deed that he ever achieved. Ah, God! What small comfort and solace is there for those ladies who see their lovers held in such little honor, with no excuse except lack of will! (20.14-25).
The worldly standard of pride was somewhat necessary in the training of men of arms, and still is. The warrior must be ferocious, in some measure, and so the warrior culture encourages bold, decisive behavior that is bent upon domination and victory. That women would hold out for the bravest and most honored men was understandable and promoted the warrior culture. But even so, while this may have also promoted the ideals of courtly love, it did not necessarily safeguard the true dignity of women or the good of marriage and family life.
Too many women sell their fiat too cheaply to knaves who are not worthy of them. Sometimes those knaves are knights in the making, whose honor a woman’s cheap yes does not serve. Men need to be both warriors and true gentlemen. Only women can help them find that balance. Women need to humanize men, without stifling their urge to take risks and to fight. Men need to protect and defend the honor of women.
The Playboy philosophy of Hugh Hefner is not only puerile, but effeminate. The playboy is a prurient Peter Pan, who has never learned how to be a man, perhaps because he has never sufficiently identified with a father figure. His preference is to play indoors where he can’t get hurt and where he will never by deprived of the soft touch of a woman.
There are also the men who are just plainly brutal, how have natural bravado, aggression and a libido to match. A woman’s cheap yes, in this regard, and other men’s silence in the face of it, are the stuff out of which tragedies are made. The damsel in distress has one weapon only: her judicious consent over which she is the sole mistress.
Chesterton was inspired by the nursery rhyme “Pears or Pairs” to write a poem on the subject of true courtly love, which he entitled “An Old Riddle.” I will conclude with it, since it so aptly summarizes the battle of the sexes and the formula for mutual victory. That formula does not provide for the possibility of the damsel in distress being rescued from Dastardly Dan only to be wooed by a more suave womanizer, nor does it provide for the baptism of the Ms. Rambo myth. The real solution is more difficult and more complex, but as with everything else that is worth living for, it is worth dying for:
Seven Knights of the Court of Love Each has her for a star above Seven smite in a single name Seven hearts are hearts of flame Round where she doth sit But a maid’s choice is as God’s choice And who shall challenge it. . .
Seven titans, huge and starred Seven giants of God’s own guard These may merit all years’ renown, Fit for these be the robe and crown, Heaven’s fields befit But a maid’s grace is as God’s grace And who shall merit it.
Father Angelo Mary Geiger, a Franciscan Friar of the Immaculate, blogs at MaryVictrix.com, where this post originally appeared.
An article I wrote about the first anniversary of the foundation of the Maronite Servants of Christ the Light, a new religious institute headed by Sister Marla Marie Lucas (left), is featured in the current issue of the Maronite Voice (pp. 3-4).
If you are interested in learning more about the Maronite Church, one of the more than 20 Catholic churches in communion with Rome, the Maronite Servants' Web site and Sister Marla Marie's blog are good places to start. Although I am Latin Rite, I find Maronite spirituality inspiring, especially as expressed in its music (some of which you can hear on the Maronite Servants' site). The hauntingly beautiful ancient Middle Eastern melodies recall the Jewish liturgical music I experienced during my childhood.
'We have to witness to the Real Presence by acting like it is the Real Presence'
A Corpus Christi homily by FR. SEAN RAFTIS S.J.
In a very short time, we will witness to the greatest miracle performed by Christ Jesus – the miracle of Our Lord turning the bread and wine into his Body and Blood.
Today is Corpus Christi. The feast of the most holy Body and Blood of Christ.
In the first reading, God gave the Chosen People Moses as a mediator, a priest, who offered sacrifice that sealed the covenant between the Jews and God. This covenant was sealed as blood from sacrificed sheep and oxen was sprinkled on the people and the altar. The ritual required the people also ate part of the animals sacrificed to God as a sign of intimacy with God. On the annual Day of Atonement, the Jewish high priest would enter into the innermost sanctuary of the Temple, and imitate what Moses did. This was all a preparation for the covenant sealed by Christ on the Holy Cross on the altar of Calvary.*
The second reading was written to the first Christians who were originally faithful Jews. The letter encouraged them to persevere in their faith despite persecutions. The writer shows the fullness of the new sacrifice of Christ made on the true Day of Atonement, Good Friday.
These first Christians no longer offered animal sacrifice to God. They knew that Christ’s sacrifice was definitive, eclipsing previous practices. The Old Testament tradition was like a play or movie, where Christ’s sacrifice is the event on which a movie or play is based. One is real, the other a representation or a shadow of the real thing.
In today’s Gospel, Christ Jesus took bread and wine and, said “take it. This is my body” and “this is my blood of the covenant.” Here, Jesus instituted the Eucharist, the First Mass. He not only is the high priest who sacrificed himself for us, he gave us the greatest of all miracles, - himself in what the Church calls “Transubstantiation” - which means that the simple gifts of bread and wine are made into his very body and blood. -- This is the mystery of faith.
The doctrine of the Real Presence was originally taught by Our Lord himself. Jesus repeatedly called himself - literally, the “bread of life” 12 x in the Gospels. Jesus’ critics assumed that He was speaking literally and they objected to this fact. Further, Jesus 4 x in the Gospel mentions eating his body and drinking his blood. He strongly states that if one doesn’t “eat of his flesh and drink of his blood” there will be “no life in you.”
Jesus never softened, backtracked on, or apologized for what he said. He didn’t make any attempts to “water down” this condition for eternal life. Our Lord’s disciples and even his opponents understood perfectly well what he was saying, and they themselves never asked for a correction - or claimed that he was speaking symbolically.
Because of this, some of his disciples even fell away and didn’t believe in him anymore - precisely because of this. And it is quite possible, scholars say, that Judas was among those who didn’t believe in the Real Presence. If Jesus was only speaking metaphorically, then why did some of his disciples fall away on the basis of a harmless symbolic statement?
The word Jesus used when he referred to eating was trogon, which has the blunt meaning of chewing or gnawing. It is not metaphor.
If Jesus was saying these things symbolically, then why would he place condition of eternal life on something that is symbolic? It just doesn’t make sense.
It is important to note what Jesus didn’t say. He didn’t say “this is a symbol of my body” or “this represents my blood.” The Greek word estin that is translated as “this” where he says “this is my body, this is my blood” can be taken two ways: The first is “this is in reality” and the second way is “this represents.” Jesus meant it in the first sense, as "this is in reality my body and blood." St. Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians affirms that Jesus was referring to his real body and blood being offered at the first Mass, not a symbolic meal or a simple communal gathering.
Today, in some Catholic “progressive” Catholic circles, the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist is treated very casually, not spoken of at all, or denied outright. In some Catholic high school chapels, they hide Jesus in the tabernacle in a remote closet in the corner often behind musical instruments. Some religion teachers and professors deny the Real Presence, or never even speak of it in class, leaving their students in abject ignorance of the Source and Summit of our lives. This leads students, who are young and impressionable sons and daughters of the Church, to believe in grave doctrinal error, and often away from the Church.
When Catholic schools and Churches hide Jesus physically or intellectually – it tells you everything you need to know about how seriously it takes its Catholic identity.
Further, when we approach the altar at Communion, we have to witness to the Real Presence by acting like it is the Real Presence when we come to Communion and when we go out and live in the world.
All of us can hide Christ from our lives, not placing him at the center of our hearts. All of us are susceptible to hiding or placing Jesus in the obscure corners of our hearts. We can deny his presence in us and others by behaving selfishly and sinfully. Just as we rejoice that the tabernacle that houses the Body and Blood of Our Lord is the focal point of our church, we also need to realize that he needs to be the focal point and center of our heart and the domestic church of our homes in our ordinary activities. Most importantly, He is always ready to forgive us and it’s never too late to ask forgiveness.
If God could make the world and us out of nothing, there is a logical consequence that he could become present really and truly under the species, or the form of bread and wine.
As Jesus obediently sacrificed himself on Calvary, he continues to obediently enters into and transforms the bread and the wine into his body and blood in the unbloody sacrifice of the Mass that is offered every day for our salvation. Why? He has unimaginable love and mercy and he wants to remain with us as His atonement is perpetual.
There is something else that is perpetual in this Church, perpetual adoration. The local and universal Church has been given the great gift of prayer and adoration here at Holy Cross for the last 26 years in our Adoration Chapel. Thank you. If you have a chance, talk to some of the folks who go to adoration. -- They know about the ongoing celebration of the Body and Blood of Christ better than any professor. -- Believe me. So thank them, talk with them, and perhaps join them in their adoration of Our Lord. What a wonderful way to thank God for all he gives us and to ask for our continual help.
It is well for us to say a little prayer of thanksgiving to Our Lord for remaining with us in the Eucharist and to ask ourselves, how do I offer proof of the Real Presence in my ordinary everyday activities? ___________________________ *Sections of this homily were inspired by The Sunday Readings: Cycle B by Father Kevin O’Sullivan, O.F.M.; Essential Catholic Survival Guide published by Catholic Answers, and The Navarre Bible: Gospels & Acts.
NOTE TO PRIESTS AND DEACONS: It is a joy for me to publish homilies. Please send me yours in advance if you would like me to share them with readers on the day for which they are written.
"It’s like giving them a secret gift that will be opened in many years: the gift of the Holy Spirit, the gift of the church, the gift of fellowship. But not everyone will open this gift right away. Now, like some gifts it might not be appreciated at the moment it is given. But some day it will. Maybe, I think, they’ll open that gift when they’re a child, maybe when they're a little older, maybe when they're college students, maybe not until they're married or until their own children are born, or maybe not until they are facing death. But the gift is there, waiting, expectant, patient."
I am delighted to report that yesterday's surgery went perfectly. Just got home, am well stitched up (with those newfangled inside stitches—didn't even know they could do that), and am now beginning two weeks' recovery at home.
Thank you so much to everyone who prayed for me. I prayed before surgery, as well as while I was in the hospital for everyone who told me they were praying for me. Just so as not to leave anyone out, I prayed for everyone else who reads this blog too.
As the anesthesia wore off yesterday afternoon, I had the comfort of hearing a hymn wafting through my mind, just as had happened during the times I returned to consciousness after my surgeries for thyroid cancer last year. This time, it was "Salve Regina." The worst part of surgery is the moment one wakes up afterwards, so it was such a blessing to be welcomed back to the world by the recollection of heavenly music. That experience, as well as everything else that went so well during my treatment, owed much to your storming heaven on my behalf. Thanks so much again, and God bless you.
Thanks so much to everyone who has let me know they will be praying for me as I go under the knife tomorrow morning for the removal of a (benign) fibroid tumor. I cannot describe how much your prayers mean to me. That goes for everyone who has commented or written to me letting me know of their prayers; it is my regret that I have not responded personally to each one.
My surgery experience actually begins today, as I have to be on a liquid fast before the operation (and drink magnesium citrate to boot). I am offering up it and any pain I experience from the operation for everyone who has asked me to pray for them. If you have a prayer request, there is still time to send me an e-mail. Thank you again and God bless you.
UPDATE: Leaving for hospital now (Thurs. am.) -- home tomorrow -- thanks so much for prayers!
UPDATE #2, 6/12/09: Many thanks to The Anchoress for letting readers know about my surgery. I am very thankful to report that I am home and resting up. As I wrote a short while ago, your prayers were very much felt.
Much of the pain of loneliness felt by the unmarried—whether that of not being in a relationship, or that of being in a one-sided affair of the heart—comes, I think, from forgetting what it means to "be as little children."
I think about that a lot, because children truly do experience a taste of heaven in a manner that can seem barred to single adults whose desires have "matured." They experience the most fulfilling happiness in the love of family and friends—without feeling the lack of spousal love that enters into adults in hope of marriage.
It is so easy to make a curious baby smile. When his eyes meet yours, all you have to do is break into an expression of joy, and the child's lips and eyes spontaneously melt into a look of delight. Poignantly, the same is true if you frown; his face will likewise fall, and he may even cry.
True, one could say that the baby's change of expression is not true empathy, because he does not yet fully understand you as an "other" outside himself. Likewise, were he old enough to comprehend your separateness, his choosing to empathize with you would add to him a kind of holiness that he could not attain without an act of will.
But even without the participation of the will, there is something God-like in the child's natural reaction that is all too often lost in the considered response of the grown-up. For God's response to our joy or sorrow is not a considered one. It is immediate. He rejoices with those who rejoice, and weeps with those who weep. Just thinking about our need for His redemptive sacrifice caused Jesus to sweat drops of blood, each one of which was enough to redeem the whole world. His goodness cannot help but diffuse itself. The baby's reflexive smile is an image of the smile of God.
The liturgy of the Mass forces us to "turn and become like children" when we say the Our Father before receiving Communion. We are reminded of our need for God to smile upon us—and are immediately rewarded as He bestows His peace upon us "in our day." That gift is, in turn, swiftly surpassed by the gift of peace in the world to come as well, through the Eucharist that brings heaven to earth.
For an unmarried adult, perhaps the most sorrowful words in the English language are the frighteningly popular expressions "only a friend" or "just friends." Only when we are adults do we add such qualifiers. As children, there is no greater joy than simply having a friend.
Although I have not heard the call to the consecrated life, I often think that priests and religious must be the happiest people on earth—and not just because polls suggest they are. Having chosen not to seek fulfillment in an earthly spouse, they are, paradoxically, able to experience shared joy and undiluted happiness with those close to them—much as children do with their playmates. Their relationships are based on a here-and-now appreciation of their friends, opening up the possibility of experiencing a kind of "untimed time" with them. It is fellowship lived in the present tense, freed from the limiting condition that the relationship progress into something more "meaningful."
There is, in fact, nothing more meaningful than being fully present for another in the same kind of chaste love that we will experience in heaven—when sex will be superseded by the communion it prefigures.
... is a revision of my blog entry on my Polish tour and what it taught me about American feminism. The photo above was taken at one of my talks in Wroclaw, Poland, in April; I am listening to the woman on the right interpret for the one on the left.
Buy my book The Thrill of the Chaste: Finding Fulfillment While Keeping Your Clothes On at Amazon.com. All commissions on Amazon purchases made through this blog go toward helping pregnant women who suffer from hyperemesis gravidarum. For details, click here.
And then God created the olive branch David Schindler calls time-out in dispute over Christopher West's teachings
A guest post by FR. ANGELO MARY GEIGER F.I.
I have no desire to see [Christopher West’s] project fail. My intention in this and my earlier statement has been to say enough only to identify problematic tendencies, which seem to me serious. My intention, in other words, has been to lift a horizon of objective concerns into relief, for the purpose of inviting reflection by all those involved or interested in West’s project.
These words of Prof. David Schindler, that hit the Web Friday are a perfect expression of the spirit in which his whole response to Profs. Janet Smith and Michael Waldstein was written.I have the greatest admiration for this man’s cool-headed and courteous manner.Prof. Schindler limited himself to discussing the issues at hand, and I believe he has established the basis for on ongoing dialogue on this subject in such a way that prominent West supporters will not be able to dismiss.These issues have now been brought irreversibly out in the open and will be discussed for a long time to come.
Prof. Schindler points out that, aside from the way that this debate may affect the future of the theology of the body apostolates in this country, there is a more vital interest:
Defense of our own positions matters only in terms of the always anterior need for accountability to the integrity of truth for its own sake.
Of the most fundamental importance is not the way in which the battle lines have been drawn on the Web, or the way in which this or that person may feel about discussing these issues in the open, but the issue of truth itself. And while Schindler says that a resolution to such a problem is “anterior” to any question of personal consequences, he is not suggesting that the issue of truth can be resolved in summary fashion.
Schindler has thus expressed his unwillingness to engage in discussion by means of a conference, because this would result more in “strategic management” than fruit born of “sustained thinking.” However, he is willing to engage with West in an ongoing and sustained exchange of ideas in the pages of Communio, the scholarly journal he edits. He stresses, and rightly so, that this exchange is going to take time, and that means, in my view, a willingness to take the concerns raised against West’s presentation seriously.
In connection with this I would like to make reference to another defense of Christopher West released also Friday from Prof. Michael J. Healy, who this past week participated in a joint presentation with West on purity and sexuality, sponsored by the Personalist Project.A summary statement from his comments, I think, underscores the importance of Schindler’s exhortation to take some time on this question:
I think Christopher West has more experience on the front lines of our sexualized culture than most of us; thus, we can respectfully let him follow his own “instincts” (probably not the best “personalist” word here) in these matters.
Schindler seems to think, and I agree, that in the interests of truth what we need to do is precisely to respectfully question West’s “instincts,” especially when, as Schindler points out, the concerns he raised in his first critique of West are abundantly well documented over the many years of West’s programs and presentations.If we are trying to plumb the depths of John Paul II’s Theology of the Body, “instinct” is certainly not enough.In any case, Schindler’s latest piece has made this kind of dismissiveness irrelevant.
The reason for the force of Schindler’s argument is that he substantiates at length the validity of his first critique and establishes a standard by which to judge the value of his evidence.None of Schindler’s critics argued rigorously against his assertions, they simply dismissed them as not meeting a scholarly standard.But the fact remains that the concerns he raised are credible on the basis what many, many people have heard West say. As Schindler notes,
What one rightly does in such a context is pay attention to the character and number of incidents, to the consistency of what is reported, and to the credibility of those reporting, assessing all of this in terms of its correspondence with one’s own direct knowledge and experience – all sound Aristotelian methodology.
Schindler’s latest contribution to this debate deserves a careful reading.I will not try to summarize it, but I would like to mention a point of interest in his piece that touches upon one of the main concerns that I have had with West’s presentation, namely, the whole idea of the taming of concupiscence.
First of all, in my previous posts I have never intended to allege that West is suggesting that we will return to original innocence.(Some of the commenters have suggested I did.)Generally I have referred to “something akin to original innocence” or the “silencing of concupiscence.” In fact West rejects the notion of a return to original innocence:
And the more we experience a “real and deep victory” over lust, the more we experience that same sense of wonder and fascination at the human sexual-body that is present in the verses of the Song of Songs—and experience very different from the mere arousal of lust.It is not possible to return to the state of original innocence, but it is possible for love to win in its battle with lust (Heaven’s Song, p.42).
So we will not return to original innocence; however, a “’real and deep victory’ over lust” will bring about a “holy fascination” with our bodies and our sexuality that is something quite different with lust. (Cf. West's Heaven’s Song, pp. 37-52 for the idea of “holy fascination.”)This “real and deep victory” is mentioned by John Paul II in his Theology of the Body:
The accusation of the moral evil that the "desire" born from carnal intemperate concupiscence contains within itself is at the same time a call to overcome this evil.If victory over evil must consist in detachment from it (hence the severe words in the context of Mt 5:27-28), nevertheless one must only detach oneself from the evil of the act (in the case at hand, the interior act of "concupiscence") and one must never transfer the negativity of this act to its object.Such a transfer would signify—perhaps not in a fully conscious way—a certain acceptance of the Manichaean "anti-value."It would not constitute a real and deep victory over the evil of the act, which is evil by its moral essence, and thus and evil of a spiritual nature; on the contrary, there would be concealed in it the great danger of justifying the act to the detriment of the object (the essential error of the Manichaean ethos consists precisely in this) (45.4; italics, the author; bold, mine).
In the context of the Holy Father’s remarks it appears to me that this “real and deep victory” concerns the refusal to consent to lust of thought, recognizing its intrinsic evil, but without the transference of the evil of that act onto its object, namely the body of a woman.And the danger of not winning that victory, in Manichaean terms, would be to excuse the sin of lust on the basis that one is overcome by the evil of a woman’s body.At least in this context, there does not seem to me to be a mandate to have a “fascination at the human sexual-body,” just an urging not to allow our rejection of lust to become a rejection of the goodness of the human body.
In the theology of the body, John Paul II does speak about “reciprocal fascination” of man and woman with each other’s bodies; however, the context is the experience of Adam and Eve in Genesis before the Fall (108.5) and the bridegroom and bride in the Song of Songs (108.6).Applying this to the exigencies of modern man, it would seem particularly appropriate for this mutual fascination to exist between spouses purified by redemptive grace through the Sacrament of Matrimony, as it would also be appropriate to understand the metaphor of human spousal and even bodily love as a means of perceiving the depths of the love of God, but I am not sure that it suggests anything more than that.In other words, I am not sure that the Holy Father is suggesting that a real and deep victory over lust consists in the ability to be fascinated with the body of the opposite sex without experiencing the movement of concupiscence, or that in general we ought to set its approximation as a goal in order to overcome “suspicion” of the body and sexuality (cf. TOB 46.4; Heaven’s Song, 15).
In his original piece Schindler asserted that "West misconstrues the meaning of concupiscence." Waldstein countered by suggesting that Schindler almost denies that “in the sexual sphere, true growth in virtue is possible.”In this new article Schindler answers Waldstein’s charge by affirming the possibility of “growth in virtue in the sexual sphere,” but emphasizing the need to qualify what exactly that means.Schindler indicates three areas where he has a concern over West’s interpretation of concupiscence and its taming:
1) West emphasizes the goodness of the body and stresses that lust resides in the heart. He does not deny that concupiscence continues to exist within the body, but by putting the emphasis on purity of heart Schindler wonders whether West “gives sufficient weight to the continued objective presence in the body of the fomes peccati (the tendency to sin).”
2) Perhaps West is not giving “sufficient weight to the necessary mediating role of natural-human virtue,” “in treating the will immediately in relation to the transforming power of grace and the Gospel.”
3) Perhaps West does not go far enough in distinguishing between “decent” and “indecent” looks, when there is a need for a reverence “deriving from the mystery contained in the body whose unveiling requires a sensitivity to time and to place which is not simply a function of sin and hence shame.”
No one in this debate denies the transforming power of God’s grace to heal us in the sexual sphere and to make real spontaneous virtue in matters of sexuality a reality.The question for me is whether all this verbal unveiling and propensity toward sexual fascination is the way to do it.It’s in this sense, that I have never been comfortable with all the apologetical marketing hype concerning TOB.
Schindler states that he decided reluctantly to involve himself in this debate, not because of the Nightline interview, but because
the great numbers of people who have experienced some uneasiness in their encounters with West’s work . . . need to know that this uneasiness has an objective foundation in the work of West itself: it is a consequence not only or always of unconscious “Puritanism” on their part, but often simply of their spontaneous and authentic human and Catholic instincts.
According to Michael Healy, during his joint presentation with West the other day, a questioner asked: “whether explicit descriptions of private acts ought to be used in public and that he himself found this offensive. Did that make him a prude?”In reply West asked the man “to consider why he felt the way he did and to consider whether he wasn’t being oversensitive to the matter rather than just properly sensitive. Did he have some problem with accepting his sexuality?” (Another witness mentions the exchange here.)Healy “did not see this as illegitimate pressure on the questioner but as a reasonable consideration”; nevertheless, he emphasized that West is “clearly a very humble man, always ready and eager to learn and improve.”
It is interesting to note, however, that this event comes right on the heels of this very public controversy that questions precisely this type of presentation and pressure.In fact, as already noted, the uneasiness of many people with this kind of presentation is the primary basis for Schindler’s intervention.
Much more needs to be said about this unrelenting penchant for unveiling the mystery and then suggesting that anyone who does not consider this sufficiently reverent has a problem with their sexuality.At some point, I would like to write something on West’s approach to his regard for the body of the Blessed Mother, and his insinuations that anyone who is uncomfortable with examining the body of their mother has some kind of unresolved sexual conflict within themselves (cf., e.g., Heaven’s Song, pp. 76-81).
For his part, Schindler writes:
My own view is that the habit of communication of the dominant culture, which knows no discreet activities that ought not to be fully exposed, and no mysteries that ought not to be fully unveiled, is precisely what needs to be called into question, by both the form and the content of an authentically Christian-human response. To be sure, this does not mean that things which ought not to be talked about publicly should not be addressed in private — for example, if a personal question needs to be clarified or if counseling is warranted.
I will be the last person to deny that prudery is a problem.I have seen very often an excessive reliance on secondary rules for modesty entertainment and general behavior that is narrowing and sometimes sectarian.It is a real problem in certain circles.However, in matters of sexuality I don’t believe that more is necessarily better:more talk, more fascination, more flesh unveiled.What is needed is good judgment: naming the darkness of lust, without projecting it onto the body, but at the same time realizing that some mysteries need to remain veiled and should only be unveiled within the sanctuary of holy matrimony.
Which brings me back to a consideration which I have mentioned before:apologetics is not enough.Yes, there are thousands of people, who have had their innocence destroyed at a young age, who have been saturated with our pornographic culture, who have been wounded by Puritanism or addicted the satiation of their lusts.
The veil is off.“We have seen everything,” so, we are told, “and we had just better make the best of it.In fact, with this new way (TOB) we can actually transform our pornographic fascination into a holy one.”
I disagree.At some point we need to move beyond apologetics and put the veil of mystery back onto to marriage and sexuality, and especially the Blessed Mother, for heaven’s sakes.This re-veiling is a real problem, I admit, but it is also one of the real challenges of our age.I would hope that this debate will help Christopher West put his very real and extraordinary gifts to the accomplishment of this task.
Father Angelo Mary Geiger, a Franciscan Friar of the Immaculate, blogs at maryvictrix.com.
I was in the audience last night at Washington's John Paul II Cultural Center for the broadcast of EWTN's "The World Over" and was struck by the beauty of a clip that was featured from the show's archives: Raymond Arroyo's interview Dom DeLuise, done not long before the actor's death last month at the age of 75.
DeLuise talked about how the Catholic devotion that was central to him in his childhood re-emerged from time to time in his adult life. I was especially touched by his mentioning that whenever he had to endure an MRI, he said a Hail Mary while he underwent the test.
There is perhaps no other experience more like being buried alive than undergoing an MRI. I was reminded of this when I had one last month in anticipation of my June 11 surgery. I could not move. My throat seemed to close up, as it can at times when I am lying on my back and have trouble swallowing. I had to keep my eyes shut, as the nearness of the MRI's surface made it seem as though the machine was swallowing me up like Jonah's whale.
The technician piped in the CD of Handel's "Messiah" that I had brought. It came through faint and tinny on the industrial headphones, like an angelic broadcast from a far-off planet—only to be summarily eclipsed by the machine's buzzsaw-like din.
I thought that I knew in everyday life what it is like to be alone, and then I discovered inside that fiberglass sarcophagus what it was really like.
The only thing I could do to remember I was not alone was to send prayers up to Jesus through Mary, praying my rosary ring, which the technician had kindly let me take into the machine. I know it helped, because the thought of Jesus' love flowing back to me through Mary made tears run down the sides of my cheeks—and then I had to stop myself from crying for fear that my breathing passages really would close up.
I remember, back when I longed for faith, reading science-fiction novels by Philip K. Dick in which the author, who suffered from schizophrenia complicated by drugs and Gnosticism, envisioned worlds where people were so isolated that their prayers could not reach God.
As an agnostic, that struck me as a peculiarly terrifying image, more frightening even than the idea that there was no God—the idea that one could long for a God who really did exist, and yet be unable to reach Him. And, in a strange way, I think it helped to fuel my longing for a God who could be reached—the longing that would eventually open the door to let Him to reach me.
A Dominican friar has told me that the root of "monk" is the Greek monos, meaning not just "alone" or "single," as it is usually translated, but "alone with."
I think that is at once the greatest blessing and the greatest challenge of earthly life, the fact that "it is not good for man to be alone," and yet we are not alone.
There is really no such thing as being alone, because we are always in the presence of God. But, since we are spirit and flesh, it is this very spiritual presence of the God we cannot see that makes us long for the physical presence of another person. And yet, even the love of another person ultimately makes us long more for the physical presence of the infinitely loving Christ.
"For my Church opens the welcoming doors of its hospitals to Christ’s sick, shelters the forsaken orphan from the cold-hearted inhumanity of men, shields the Magdalen from the men who first pushed her into the gutter and then would stone her, closes the eyes of the forsaken aged in their last sleep.
"I hear much talk nowadays that is shudderingly at odds with the charity of Christ. There is talk of lethal chambers, where unprofitable members of society will be painlessly killed. A savage euthanasia is suggested for the helpless old. Sterilization of the insane and mutilation of the criminal is talked of in high courts. The doors of life are ruthlessly shut in the face of babies in an age that prides itself on making life eminently worth living.
"The doctrine of the 'survival of the fittest,' loudly praised in my youth, has not had a pleasant sound in the ears of the frightened weak and sick and poor. The soft footfall of a Catholic Sister of Charity has come with reassuring gentleness. For, in the face of this thoroughly pagan inhumanity that is sweeping the world, those Sisters come, mercy and love as their twin angels. The Church recruits them in increasing numbers and they selflessly and tirelessly do Christ’s work among the world’s outcasts and forsaken. They repeat in every generation the moral miracle of Christ’s charity and boundless love; and any seeing man may watch the miracle at work. As for myself, no one will ever know what the mere presence of the Sisters in my Church has meant to my faith."
— Daniel A. Lord S.J., "My Faith and I," 1931 (not 1958, as the linked page states)
"Paul [McCartney] had a much more tender way with people, and therefore had a greater understanding of handling children. That’s how his association with me was tightened, because, when I was a kid, Dad wasn’t necessarily the playing-around type, whereas Paul was, so there was cowboys and indians and all that kind of stuff.”
Want to know how this onetime agnostic New York City rock journalist found a happier way of life as a chaste Christian? Read The Thrill of the Chaste: Finding Fulfillment While Keeping Your Clothes On.
"For the last six months, I have been working to put together a new writers' conference with the Center for Fiction here in New York -- a conference that deals specifically with the issues that writers face AFTER they've created a great story and found an agent who can help them sell it to a publisher. In this rapidly changing economic climate, it's as important for authors to know about the business side of publishing as it is about the artistic side of writing, so, with generous co-sponsorship from Fordham University's Creative Writing Program, we've created a one-day conference filled with panels designed to immerse people in the practical side of the publishing industry."
The event will be held on Saturday, June 27, at Fordham College at Lincoln Center. See the conference Web site for details.
Worlds in Collision A book excerpt by MARK P. SHEA
From Volume One of Mark P. Shea's new three-volume series Mary, Mother of the Son, reprinted with permission of the author:
Imagine yourself channel surfing one evening. You flip over to EWTN, the all-Catholic-all-the-time TV network founded by Mother Angelica. Suppose you see the following ad, narrated by a man with a booming voice and a southern twang:
"Support Petros Ministries! Marching out in the power of the Spirit to claim victory over the powers of Hell! Anointed! Dynamic! Making an impact on this generation in the all-powerful, all-conquering Name of King Jesus!"
Doesn’t sound very Catholic, does it?
Yet is there anything in the Catechism of the Catholic Church's description of the mission of Catholics that’s fundamentally at variance with the language above? No. Not a thing. Catholics are called to be soldiers for Christ. Just ask St. Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits. Catholics have it on the highest authority that the gates of Hell shall not prevail against the Church (cf. Matt. 16:18). Every Catholic is anointed with the Holy Spirit through faith in Christ Jesus (normally through Baptism and Confirmation). Catholics are indeed called to make a dynamic impact on our generation for Jesus. And yet Catholics just don’t talk this way.
So, dazed from this strange experience with Catholic television, you keep channel surfing and find yourself wandering over to some sort of Bible Gospel Hour. The show cuts to a commercial and you hear an elegant English woman’s voice say:
"Read The Inner Way of Silence and allow God to invite you to enter more deeply into the path of contemplation. Experience sanctity as a fruit of dialogue with the Holy Spirit. Practice the presence of God and open yourself to the gentle promptings of the Spirit by saying, with the Bible, 'I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done unto me according to your word.' Allow the Spirit to breathe into your quiet reflection on the work of God in Scripture and creation. Let God bring forth in you, as in Mary's womb, the Christ who comes to us in prayer and mystery."
Again, you feel like you're in an alternate dimension, because no Evangelical talks this way. But is there anything in the theology of this ad that’s unbiblical or opposed to Evangelical belief?
Again, not a thing. Sanctity is a fruit of the Holy Spirit. We are indeed called by Scripture to respond to God by saying, "Let it be to me according to your word." The Spirit does indeed breathe upon us and we are indeed to reflect on the work of God in Scripture and creation. The Bible even likens our formation in Christ to the formation of a child in its mother’s womb (cf. Gal. 4:19). And of course, God does come to us in prayer and mystery.
So your strange trip to televisionland has left you with a pretty puzzle. You’ve watched Catholics say true things about their faith in ways almost no Catholic would say them. Likewise, you've seen Evangelicals say biblically true things in ways no Evangelical would say them. Even more puzzling is that both the Catholics and the Evangelicals are saying things that both would affirm to be true. What’s wrong with this picture?
Masculine and Feminine, Evangelical and Catholic
Note the vocabulary in the first ad: anointed, dynamic, impact, marching, victory, all-conquering, king. Other favorite words in the Evangelical lexicon are mighty, battle, conquer, lordship, and so forth. Book blurbs, radio ads, and TV shows in the Evangelical world emphasize these words—words we usually gender-code as masculine.
In the second ad, the stress is on words like contemplation, inner life, receptivity, and openness. Catholic readers will recognize these and other buzzwords like invite, nurture, faith journey, dialogue, faith community, and share as common features of Catholic jargon. These are words we usually gender-code as feminine.
The gender-coding is what caused the disconnect between what we heard in the ads and what we know from experience. The first blurb dressed Catholic content in masculine language, while the second clothed Evangelical content in feminine language. That’s why, once we peeled off the cultural trappings, we could find nothing in the Catholic ad that could not be affirmed by both Catholics and Evangelicals, just as there was nothing in the Evangelical ad that both could not affirm as well. Both ads are biblical, and both have roots in sacred Tradition. But since we are used to hearing Catholic culture—culture, mind you, not theology—expressed in feminine terms, and Evangelical culture—culture, mind you, not theology—expressed in masculine terms, it throws us for a loop.
So what's the point of this little thought experiment? Simply this: Before we ever get around to discussing substantial theological disagreements, Catholics and Evangelicals often mistake cultural differences for theological quarrels. Moreover, secular culture (which is hostile to both Catholic and Evangelical Christianity) often compounds the problem by feeding us its own stereotypes about both cultures. To be sure, this is not an All-Explaining Theory of Everything about Catholic/Evangelical disagreements. There are, in addition to this phenomenon, plenty of real theological differences. But still, because this cultural difference is typically not noticed by either party, it sits there quietly operating and producing numerous misunderstandings and feelings of alienation on both sides before the theological discussion ever begins.
Such collisions can easily be spotted whenever one group unfairly caricatures the other. Take, for instance, different approaches to prayer. The feminine culture of the Catholic can predispose him to view the Evangelical approach to prayer as shallow and utilitarian. Buying into what “everybody knows” about Evangelicals based on media portrayals of Evangelicals as greedy, power-hungry hypocrites, some Catholics will assume Evangelical prayer uses God as a tool to achieve worldly ends ("Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes-Benz!").
Meanwhile, Evangelicals—buying into what "everybody knows" about Catholics based on media portrayals of sweet-faced, pious sitcom nuns and dim, nervous priests incapable of dealing with the real world—tend to see Catholic piety as an inarticulate inwardness cut off from real life. Thus, Evangelicals frequently criticize the Catholic faith for its "retreat from reality behind the walls of the cloister," where out-of-touch monks and nuns pray piously while ignoring their duties to claim the world for Jesus Christ.
The Catholic who is tempted to pass judgment needs to be reminded that petitionary prayer is commanded by our Lord ("Give us this day our daily bread" (Matt. 6:11)). The Evangelical who is tempted to pass judgment needs to be reminded that Jesus went into the desert to pray and seek union with the Father precisely for the purpose of saving the world, and that this is, in fact, what contemplative orders in the Catholic Church (like the Trappists) are all about. In short, both are legitimate forms of approach to God.
Similarly, Catholics should not dismiss Evangelicalism as simplistic chatter merely because Evangelicals tend to be more verbal about their faith. There is nothing noble or spiritual about the common lay Catholic's inability to be always ready to give an account of the hope within us (cf. 1 Pet. 3:15). Nor should Evangelicals think Catholics are “cold and dead” simply because they often don’t manifest their deep relationship with Christ in a spontaneous, verbal, and outgoing way. The Evangelical needs to realize that not all “spontaneous” prayer is authentic contact with the living God, and that formal or liturgical prayer is not the same thing as a soulless ritual.[1]
Masculine, Feminine, and the Incarnation
Evangelicals, like all orthodox Christians, vigorously affirm the doctrine of the Incarnation—the faith of all Christians that God the Son, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, was conceived by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the Virgin Mary and became man. Evangelicals, like Catholics, believe this doctrine with every fiber of their being. But there’s more to it than this. In Evangelical culture, "incarnation" tends to get prefaced with the singular word "the"—as in "The Incarnation." It's primarily seen as a single (albeit glorious) historical event, and its application to everyday Evangelical life usually has the character of a doctrine that is firmly believed. Catholics, while affirming the uniqueness of the Incarnation in the person of Jesus, also see Incarnation as an eternal reality to be lived and breathed by the followers of Jesus. They believe that God, in becoming human, was not simply performing an isolated miracle; he was establishing an eternal principle. In the Incarnation, Catholics believe, God was committing himself to continually revealing his power and grace in and through human things. And the unfamiliar ways that Catholics express this belief tend to make Evangelicals very nervous.
This nervousness only gets compounded when popular Evangelicalism meets popular Catholicism. For the emphasis on seeing the Incarnation as a single event two thousand years ago on the other side of the earth often makes Evangelicals to view it as an episode that ended with the Ascension of Christ into Heaven. Many Evangelicals speak as though the grace of God now reaches us only in “spiritual” (read: “disembodied”) ways. Enfleshing that grace in people today is too much, too close.
This pattern of "that was then, this is now" can often be observed when Evangelicalism and Catholic faith meet. For example, it’s not hard for Evangelicals to grant that God could unite himself with matter in the physical body of Jesus Christ, but the notion that he continues to do so through the consecrated bread and wine of the Eucharist is rejected as unbiblical and even magical or idolatrous—despite the fact that Jesus declared "This is my body, this is my blood" as Matthew, Mark, Luke, and Paul all record. Evangelicals find private confession of sins to God acceptable and even approve (generally) of accountability and discipleship. But the idea that a flesh-and-blood human being could have authority and power from Jesus to forgive sins in his name is typically declared unbiblical—even though Jesus conferred exactly this power on the apostles with the words, "If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained" (John 20:23). Similarly, Evangelicals delight in the biblical picture of Jesus healing at the pool of Siloam by means of water (cf. John 9), but fret at the Catholic idea of holy water or blessed salts, since these seem somehow magical or fleshly. So do various other Catholic physical acts such as lighting candles to pray, or the gestures and prayers of the liturgy, which can strike some Evangelicals as mere rote.
Because Evangelicalism tends to see the Incarnation solely as an isolated historic event, not as the establishment of an eternal principle, the Evangelical tends to reply to the Catholic's confidence that God will use matter and people to communicate his grace by saying "God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth" (John 4:24). The assumption is that spirit is spirit and matter is matter and never the twain shall meet (after the Ascension). There is a strong tendency to insist that all outward forms of what is generally termed “religion” are just distractions from spiritual worship. As Thomas Howard notes:
Using Saint Paul’s language about flesh and spirit, this piety has often spoken as though to be holy ("spiritual") is to be more or less disembodied. Since that is obviously not possible, we will do our best to keep spiritual things distinct from physical things. There will be "the spiritual life" and "the ordinary life." There will be sacred activities and secular activities. When we are praying, we are closer to the center of things than when we are washing dishes, changing diapers, driving in a traffic jam, or sitting in a committee meeting: thus would run this piety.
This is to misread Saint Paul. He never meant his word spiritual to mean disembodied. To be spiritual for Saint Paul was to have brought everything back to God where it belongs and where it was in Eden. It is to have had one’s life knit back together so that it is no longer secular and divided, but whole. It is to become one with Christ in whom dwells all the fullness of God bodily. Christ is the great icon and paradigm of this wholeness. In Him we see the fullness of God in bodily form, and we are called to that wholeness, not to disembodied angelic life. The Christian religion, far from driving a wedge between them, knits the spiritual and the physical back together.[2]
And where does all this Incarnation—all this messiness of God taking on our creatureliness and revealing himself as a human person through human things in a very human way—begin? It begins with none other than the Blessed Virgin Mary who, after all, is the source of Jesus’s human nature. And curiously, it is Mary, the most Feminine of the Feminine—the mater out of whose substance God clothed himself in matter—who makes most Evangelicals steeped in the masculine way more nervous than almost anything else in the Catholic faith. ___________________________
[1] Back in my Evangelical days, I saw a cartoon in The Wittenburg Door featuring an earnest Evangelical hunched over in prayer with eyes clamped shut, pleading, "Oh Lord, I just really worship you and I just really want to come before you and just really pray that you would just really take the words just and really out of my prayer vocabulary." Not all spontaneous prayer is up to the glory of the task, and there is much wisdom in Catholics using the great and poetic prayers of the saints as their own. [2] Thomas Howard, Evangelical Is Not Enough (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1984), 31–32.
I was particularly impressed with Jackie's criticism of the "Good Touch/Bad Touch" approach:
How could a conversation about good and bad touching be wrong? Well, it’s not really the conversation that’s wrong; it’s the terminology that can become confusing for kids. As adults, we understand that a “bad touch” generally refers to sexual abuse and we know what it entails. But for most children a “bad touch” is something that causes pain. Sex offenders know this and rarely commit acts that cause physical pain to the child; if the child is hurt, he or she will often tell someone and the offender will be exposed. Therefore, if the touch doesn’t hurt, kids who are being sexually abused may not understand that it is still a “bad touch." ... By replacing these terms with “safe and unsafe touches,” kids are often less confused and more able to identify and speak out about touching that makes them physically or emotionally uncomfortable.
How much wiser that sounds than Planned Parenthood's guidelines for educating pre-kindergarten children, which emphasize teaching them about "pleasure"—implying the only wrong kind of touch is that which is "unwanted." ("Every touch a wanted touch"?) In PP's defense, their guidelines have improved since I wrote about them five years ago, when they had the "pedophile loophole" (children were not to be warned about sexual predators unless they were at least nine).
... I am refraining from publishing or linking to further comment on the intramural Catholic dispute over Christopher West's articulation of Pope John Paul II's theology of the body.
Recent articles by David Schindler, Janet Smith, and Michael Waldstein [sorry, no more links] each make some positive points that should be kept in mind:
Schindler: "Let me stress that I agree with those who vigorously defend West’s intention of fidelity to the Church. " I would add that the same intention of fidelity should be recognized on the part of all theologians who have written on the issue.
Smith: "I believe a thorough discussion of the issues Schindler raises would enrich our understanding of the Theology of the Body."
Waldstein: "As the Provost/Dean of the John Paul II Institute in Washington, Schindler has the responsibility of protecting the name and reputation of this Institute -- a great common good."
Please pray for everyone involved, that, for the good of Christ's Mystical Body, they make peace with one another.
"One problem with the book is the Catholic/female style of argumentation (mystical parallels, song lyrics, personal experiences). This is not the book you can use in order to defeat your opponents on chastity. This book is ideal for those of us who were never taught these things as children—you can get all the wisdom of a Christian parent in a couple hundred pages."
UPDATE: Wintery Knight writes in an e-mail: "Eeek! You were not supposed to cite the one critical thing in the whole review.... the rest is very positive.
"I have to pick on you for being a Catholic girl - it's so weird the way you talk. Prayers! Visions! Being nice to people! Eeeeewwwww.
"We evangelical Protestants only talk about the cosmic microwave background radiation or the DNA signal transduction system or the fine-tuning of the cosmological constant. If we let our hair down, then maybe we will talk about the earliest evidence for the resurrection in 1 Corinthians 15... but I'd have to be drunk to do that - and I don't drink but one beer a year if that much."
*The link to my book's title will take you to its Amazon page. All commissions on Amazon purchases made through this blog go toward helping pregnant women who suffer from hyperemesis gravidarum. For details, click here.
Father Frank Canavan, S.J., Professor Emeritus of Political Science here at Fordham University and a long-time member of the Fordham Jesuit community, a Jesuit for seventy years and a priest for 59, has completed his course on earth. There are so many things that could be said about Frank, and especially by those who have known him longer than I, who have only known him for a bit more than 25 years. I am grateful to several of his Jesuit contemporaries who have helped me to fill in my picture of Frank, and especially Fathers John Donohue and Joseph Dolan. In the second reading, an excerpt from Paul’s epistle to the fledgling Christian community at Philippi, Paul strikes a chord on which I would like to play a few variations: “We have our citizenship in heaven; it is from there that we eagerly await the coming of our savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Frank was a citizen of many realms in this sublunary universe: the United States, of course, concretized at first in Queens and Nassau, where Frank grew up. He attended Jamaica Model School in Queens, many years after another famous Jesuit and citizen of Queens, John Courtney Murray. In 1935, Frank at the age of 18 came from Lawrence High School in Cedarhurst in Nassau to the beautiful Bronx where he became a citizen of Rose Hill as a freshman in Fordham College. It was at Fordham in those years that Frank began to think philosophically, since the undergraduate curriculum in those years was largely shaped by philosophical and theological curricular exigencies. Among Frank’s exact undergraduate contemporaries at Fordham College at that time are the aforementioned Fathers John Donohue and Joseph Dolan, as well as the late Fathers William Hogan, Robert Sealey and Robert Gleason. Near contemporaries at Fordham were Fathers Joseph McKenna, James Finlay and Gerald McCool. Each of those former Fordham undergraduates who became Jesuits afterwards would make signal contributions to the life of Fordham and to the intellectual life of their times.
Four years after his enrollment at Fordham, just as he was finishing his undergraduate years, Frank heard the call of Christ the King and became a citizen of Hyde Park in the Hudson Valley in September 1939. The Jesuit novitiate at the time was located (very ironically in view of Frank’s later political leanings) next door to the family home of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt. After his two years of novitiate Frank became a citizen of St. Louis, Missouri, for three years, where he imbibed neo-Thomism under the tutelage of Saint Louis University’s distinguished philosophical faculty. After two years of teaching at Regis High School in Manhattan and Canisius College in Buffalo (two more citizenships gained!), Frank completed a Master’s degree at Fordham before beginning his theological studies at Woodstock College in Maryland, thereby becoming a citizen of what Baltimore cabbies call “the land of pleasant living.”
After Frank’s ordination to the priesthood in 1950 and the completion of his licentiate in theology in 1951, he spent much of one year racking up another citizenship at Auriesville, New York, in the valley of the Mohawk. There he underwent the final stage of Jesuit religious formation on the grounds of the Shrine of the North American Martyrs.
Eventually Frank went to Duke University in Durham, North Carolina, where he studied under the direction of John Hamilton Hallowell, a political philosopher and Episcopalian who worked on political theory from a pronounced Christian perspective. Frank’s dissertation on Edmund Burke, the 18th-century Anglo-Irish political philosopher, started him on a career-long interest in Burke’s thought and its relevance to contemporary politics. His years in Durham made him not only a citizen of North Carolina but also one of the early Fordham Jesuits whose doctoral training took place in prominent non-Catholic universities.
His first assignment, after Duke, and, I believe, before Duke as well, was to the faculty of Saint Peter’s College in Jersey City. Jersey City, proof positive for the resurrection of the dead every election day, taught Frank a few things about political realities that Edmund Burke had never considered. Those years in Jersey City prepared Frank for a stint as an associate editor of the Jesuit weekly journal of opinion, America. During that period Frank was present in Rome for several sessions of the Second Vatican Council and followed with interest the work of his mentor at Woodstock, John Courtney Murray, on religious freedom and the separation of Church and State
Frank came back to his alma mater, Fordham, to teach in the Department of Political Science in 1966 and became emeritus from that Department in 1988. His political apprenticeship in Jersey City proved valuable in the yeoman service he eventually rendered to the Faculty Senate and the University at large, a task to which he brought the energy of a ward heeler. Always conservative, in the intellectual tradition of Burke, Frank could agree with his intellectual hero that one should—and I quote—“Never despair; but if you do, work on in despair.” Although Burke never apparently said them, Frank would also have agreed with the words often attributed to Burke: “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” Frank was always a good man, and he always did something. His teaching and writing on constitutional law and the scope of personal liberty made a mark in the study of political philosophy in American academe.
A few notes on Frank as a friend: if Frank was conservative politically and intellectually, there was one area in which he was rather radical, his Irish Republicanism. This was an orientation I shared with him and I sometimes engaged him in conversation about developments in County Tyrone, whence his grandparents came, and the rest of the two-thirds of Ulster still under British rule. On American politics, whenever I would meet him at our local polling place, I was fairly sure that he and I were cancelling each other’s vote out. But Frank had a sense of humor about his own conservatism. I met Frank on the Fordham Metro North platform one warm late afternoon in September 1998 when we both were headed to the 80th birthday party in Manhattan of then Father Avery Dulles. In view of the heat, I asked him why he was wearing a black fedora. “I thought,” he replied, “one stopped wearing a straw hat after Labor Day.”
As a member of the Jesuit community Frank could be constructively ironic, as when he once remarked of a an abandoned plate and cup left on a table in the Jesuit community coffee room on the ground level in Faber Hall that it was evidently a sign of the recent departure of “one of Ours of noble birth.” When the community was told by an anxious Rector that the telephone bills were too high, Frank echoed a slogan of AT&T at the time: “Too many of our men reached out and touched somebody.”
Many here this evening will remember that Frank loved the theater; he frequented performances at the Roundabout Theater with several of his Jesuit and lay colleagues. Fewer will remember that he was surprisingly devoted to ballet and admired extravagantly the dancer Suzanne Farrell. Frank was a man of many parts, not easily pigeon-holed; he was what Robert Whittington said in 1520 about Thomas More, “a man for all seasons.”
Frank’s many citizenships here on earth have come to a peaceful conclusion. Even if, like Dean Swift, saeva indignatio sometimes afflicted Frank when he considered the disregard in much of the United States for human life in all its stages from conception to natural death and the general neglect of the principles of natural law, he remained to his last days a basically peaceful and happy man. He deeply appreciated the care he received from the staff in the last years of his life at the Province infirmary in Murray-Weigel Hall. Frank, always an active man heretofore, found himself surprised and pleased with his life in that community of prayer and witness. On behalf of all of us I wish to extend my thanks to Father Marzolf and to Father Scanlon for all that they and their staff did for Frank and continue to do for all our men there.
What Frank wanted for all his seventy years as a Jesuit, for his ninety-one years and more as a man and a Christian, he has now attained. His Vindicator stands forth upon the earth; the Son of Man has come at last and girded on his apron to serve his faithful servants at table. He has seated Frank with the Canavans and the Jesuits and all his other families. Let the heavenly banquet begin.
May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen.
Patrick J. Ryan, S.J.
Vice President for University Mission and Ministry
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Are you talking to me, Mr. President? A guest post by THE RAVING THEIST
The President has begun a cynical campaign of demonization of pro-lifers:
I am shocked and outraged by the murder of Dr. George Tiller as he attended church services this morning. However profound our differences as Americans over difficult issues such as abortion, they cannot be resolved by heinous acts of violence.
I have been part of the pro-life movement for five years now, and yes, I have "profound differences" with the pro-choice ideology and the devastation wrought by the abortion industry. But never have I remotely considered murder as an acceptable tactic.
The people I have worked with in helping abortion-minded women are the most compassionate and gentle I have even met. None of them have even engaged in or endorsed violence. The President's patronizing admonition that "Americans" -- i.e. pro-life Americans -- should not let their passions turn to homicide is deeply insulting. Far more people have been shot to death over parking disputes and fender benders than abortion differences, but the President does not mount the national stage to caution drivers to hold their guns in check every times such an incident occurs.
Dedicated pro-lifers all understand the hypocrisy in taking a life in the name of protecting life. The hypocrisy also arises outside the abortion context. For example, it would be hypocritical for an antiwar protester to advocate violence. Yet the President associated for years with one such protester, Bill Ayers, a man who participated in numerous bombings as part of the terrorist Weather Underground organization. And the President minimized and lied about the nature of the friendship, begrudging denouncing Ayers' conduct only when it became politically impossible to maintain his silence on the controversy.
The President lacks the moral authority to lecture the pro-life movement about anything. His insinuation that the deranged act of some lone psychopath typifies the pro-life mindset is simply outrageous.
As theologians trade observations about Christopher West in the wake of his controversial "Nightline" appearance, well known theology-of-the-body author Steve Kellmeyer of Culture War Notes has started an even-handed Christopher West Opinion Page listing the major recent commentaries on West's teachings. The page also includes discussion forums open to all.
Comments closed; leave a comment instead in the opinion page's forums.