Saturday, December 31, 2011
Previewing My Peace
On Thursday night, I had the great pleasure of giving the first-ever preview of my upcoming book My Peace I Give You: Healing Sexual Wounds with the Help of the Saints to about 30 teens and young adults at a private home in Maryland.
My host was John Olon, who teaches honors philosophy and moral theology to juniors and seniors at St. Mary's Ryken, a Catholic prep school in Leonardtown. John and his wife, Nhan, are parents of a large family who feel called to be spiritual parents as well. They regularly host gatherings of young people—most of them being John's current or former students—to discuss theology and philosophy over a homemade dinner.
This was the third time in the past two and a half years that I addressed the group. Before I agreed to address them for the first time, in the summer of 2009, John had to nudge me a bit. Normally, I decline invitations to speak to teens, as experience has shown that I do not have whatever it takes to connect with high-schoolers. (Just ask the teens in London, Ontario, who, after my tour of the city's Catholic high schools, formed a Facebook group: "Dawn Eden, Never Come Back to Canada!") But after that first talk, no more nudging was necessary. For one thing, these teens are terrifically bright (just look at what John teaches them). For another, unlike high-school assemblies, they are there only because they want to be there. The fact that the talks take place at a loving Catholic home abuzz with W.C. Fields' least favorite things (children and dogs) also creates a wonderfully welcoming vibe.
I was going to use the evening as an opportunity to practice giving the kind of talk I'll be giving on My Peace I Give You when it comes out, but changed my mind at the last minute. Instead, I decided to simply read a chapter of the book—the first time I had ever done so in public.
My Peace I Give You is intended to help adult victims of childhood sexual abuse find healing in Christ through the lives and witness of the saints. (You can read advance praise for it here.) I read to the group a chapter titled, "The Love That Transforms: Learning the true meaning of spiritual childhood—with St. Thérèse of Lisieux." Although Thérèse, unlike some of the other saints I discuss in My Peace I Give You, did not suffer sexual abuse in childhood, she underwent a severely traumatic experience at a young age. Her healing process entailed a purification of memory—not forgetting the past, but learning to see it in light of God's loving plan for her life. While she was never without suffering, she learned, with the aid of divine grace, to unite her suffering to that of the crucified Christ, and so attained a joy that could not be taken away.
As you can see in these photos, the people who came to hear me were generous with their attention. I was profoundly encouraged by their reactions to my chapter—so encouraged that I would like to give more readings between now and when My Peace I Give You comes out in April. Since I hope to give talks around the world upon the book's publication, it is very helpful for me to learn which aspects of it most resonate with people. For that reason, if anyone would like me to read a chapter of My Peace I Give You to their church group, reading club, or campus ministry between now and the end of March, I am willing to do so free of charge, anywhere in the world, so long as my transportation and accommodations are covered. Potential sponsors can reach me via my feedback form.
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A very happy New Year to everyone reading this blog, especially all who have prayed for me or have otherwise supported me in my studies and writing. I am sending up prayers tonight for all Dawn Patrol readers, with much thanksgiving. Labels: My Peace I Give You
11:07 PM
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Dorothy's day
Eighty-four years ago today, on a cold winter's morning in Tottenville, Staten Island, Dorothy Day was received into the Catholic Church.
I developed a devotion to Servant of God Dorothy Day, whose cause for canonization, while reading her autobiography The Long Loneliness. Learning about her spiritual journey, particularly how she came to accept God's mercy after confessing her abortion, led me to feature her in a chapter of my upcoming book for adult victims of childhood sexual abuse, My Peace I Give You: Healing Sexual Wounds with the Help of the Saints. I discuss how, in her initial reluctance to believe that God had truly forgiven her, she experienced feelings analogous to those of victims whose childhood abuse causes them to doubt the depth of the Father's love for them.
Over time, as she drew nearer to the Lord through weekly confession and daily Mass, Dorothy grew to comprehend the sheer gratuity of divine love and mercy. More than that, like her beloved patron St. Therese of Lisieux, she sought to share that Eucharistic love with others, as in this excerpt of her conversion memoir, From Union Square to Rome:
"[It] is hard to understand the love of God for us. We pray daily to increase in the love of God because we know that if we love a person very much, all things become easy to us and delightful. We want, rather unreasonably, sensible feelings of love. St. Teresa [of Avila] says that the only way we can measure the love we have for God, is the love we have for our fellows. So by working for our fellows we come to love them. That you understand, for you believe that you are working for them when you give hours every morning to the distribution of literature, climbing tenement-house stairs, knocking at doors, suffering rebuffs, enduring heat and cold, weariness and hardships to bring to them what you consider a gospel which will set them free.
"And if you and I love our faulty fellow-human beings, how much more must God love us all? If we as human parents, can forgive our children any neglect, any crime, and work and pray patiently to make them better, how much more does God love us?
"You may say perhaps: 'How do we know He does, if there is a He!' And I can only answer that we know it because He is here present with us today in the Blessed Sacrament on the altar, that He never has left us, and that by daily going to Him for the gift of Himself as daily bread, I am convinced of that love. I have the Faith that feeding at that table has nourished my soul so that there is life in it, and a lively realization that there is such a thing as the love of Christ for us.
"It took me a long time as a convert to realize the presence of Christ as Man in the Sacrament. He is the same Jesus Who walked on earth, Who slept in the boat as the tempest arose, Who hungered in the desert, Who prayed in the garden, Who conversed with the woman by the well, Who rested at the house of Martha and Mary, Who wandered through the cornfields, picking the ears of corn to eat.
"Jesus is there as Man. He is there, Flesh and Blood, Soul and Divinity. He is our leader Who is always with us. Do you wonder that Catholics are exultant in this knowledge, that their Leader is with them? 'I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.'" Labels: My Peace I Give You
12:01 AM
Friday, December 23, 2011
"Let it be printed"!
It's not the Catholic version of the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval, but an Imprimatur still counts for something. Taking its name from the Latin word for "Let it be printed," an Imprimatur shows that an author has submitted his book to his bishop, and that the work has been judged to be free from doctrinal and moral error. And now, I am elated to have the first Imprimatur of my career, from my own bishop, Cardinal Wuerl, for my upcoming book My Peace I Give You: Healing Sexual Wounds with the Help of the Saints. The cardinal granted it on December 14, the feast of St. John of the Cross, after it received a Nihil obstat from his censor deputatus, Father Carter Griffin (who is himself an author).
When I wrote my first book, The Thrill of the Chaste, although I was preparing to enter the Church, I did not seek an Imprimatur for fear of unnerving my publisher, which was a Protestant-owned company. Things are different with My Peace I Give You, as I am signed to a Catholic publisher, Ave Maria Press, and they are very supportive of my desire to show obedience to my bishop.
Having this episcopal acknowledgment is very important to me because I have high hopes for the apostolate to the wounded that I am embarking upon with the book's publication. It is a new stage of my life, and, unlike the previous stages, I want it to be through, with, and in Christ and His Church from start to finish. While God is not bound by the sacraments, the grace of Christ is ordered so that it flows down to us through the successors of the apostles—and I need lots of grace if I am to help the Church in its healing mission. So the Imprimatur is reassuring in that it affirms and strengthens my spiritual connection to the "principal parts of the members of the Lord" (Mystici Corporis Christi 42).
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Another thing I am very thankful for this Christmas is my grades. (At right, you can see me hitting the books in 2009; a more recent photo is here.) Currently I am studying at the Pontifical Faculty of the Immaculate Conception at Dominican House of Studies towards an STB, which is a prerequisite for the sacred theology doctorate that I hope to earn. My ultimate goal is to become a professor of theology at a small Catholic college (helloooo Belmont Abbey, Benedictine College, Our Lady Seat of Wisdom Academy, Dominican Institute of Ibadan, are you reading this?). School is harder than it has ever been, but I am loving it more than I ever have, and getting the best grades of my life.
When I looked at my GPA for the Fall 2011 semester, I wanted to cry for joy. It was 3.8. For comparison, I seem to remember that my high school GPA was 2.89, and my undergraduate one was not much better. For me to do as well as I am doing at age 43, when my memory capacity and energy level are far from what they were in my NYU days, I cannot help but think that it is a vocational sign. Finally, after many twists and turns, I am doing what I was meant to do. Father Canavan was right; God is writing straight with crooked lines.
If you are among those Dawn Patrol readers who has prayed for me or supported me in other ways during my journey, please know that I am sending up joyful prayers of thanksgiving for you this Christmas and New Year's. Labels: My Peace I Give You
2:01 AM
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Speaking My Peace
When I was writing my upcoming book My Peace I Give You: Healing Sexual Wounds with the Help of the Saints (read more about it here), I was looking forward to recording it as my first audiobook.
Several people had requested an audiobook of my first book, The Thrill of the Chaste [that's me at left, signing a copy of The Thrill in 2007], and I had regretted not making one, especially after discovering through family and friends that it is not only the vision-impaired who enjoy audiobooks. People who do a lot of driving like to listen to them during car trips, for example, and frequent flyers enjoy them in flight. What is more, in writing My Peace I Give You, I realized that, given that it is intended not only for adult victims of childhood sexual abuse, but also their family, friends, and pastoral caregivers, it would be good if there were the opportunity for people to listen to it together. In particular, I thought that married readers who were abuse survivors might benefit from listening to it with their spouse, as it could enhance communication.
After carrying these hopes, I learned that, although the publisher of My Peace, Ave Maria Press, has many promising plans for enabling the book to reach its audience, an audiobook is not one of them. They do not publish audiobooks and do not have plans to enter that end of the business. Like many publishers, they have found that there is just not sufficient demand.
Disappointed, I thought about recording an audiobook and marketing it myself. But, as a full-time graduate student in theology (currently working towards an STB and STL, so that I may enter a pontifically licensed doctoral program), I have neither the means to invest in ten hours in a recording studio, nor the technology to record at home.
So I was very happy yesterday, on the feast of one of my Confirmation saints,* Lucy—patroness of the blind—when I realized that there was another possible solution to making My Peace I Give You available in audiobook format that I had not considered.
I am blessed to know many people in the world of Catholic nonprofits, particularly members of religious orders. Perhaps a nonprofit or religious order that has a means of making recordings (as many do in this digital age) would let me record the book, and would make it available, in exchange for my giving them my entire author's royalty for the audio format. Then they could easily market the audiobook on Amazon and other websites, or through any means they wished, to benefit their own apostolic work.
For my part, I would be delighted to donate my royalty for an audiobook, as well as my time recording it, to support a religious order or other nonprofit. Dawn Patrol readers have been very generous in helping me when I have needed funds for school; it would be nice to be able to likewise help out an apostolate that does good work. (Note that there would remain the need to pay my agent his share of royalties, and my publisher might also assert licensing rights—though I don't foresee either cost being prohibitive, especially if the licensee is a nonprofit.)
As it happened, almost immediately after the idea came to me yesterday, I ran into a friend who has contact with the Xavier Society for the Blind. He said he would approach them with my offer. In case they are not interested, if you represent a Catholic nonprofit or religious order and would be interested in publishing the audiobook of My Peace I Give You, please contact me via my feedback form.
* My Confirmation saint is Lucy; I claim both the Roman martyr and St. Lucy
Filippini as patrons. Labels: My Peace I Give You
12:55 AM
Monday, December 12, 2011
Quote of the day
From an excellent story in today's New York Times about one of the greatest voices of the 1960s:
Even when [Dion DiMucci] first felt the thrill of a hit record, he would still stop at the church and talk with Msgr. Joseph Pernicone, who pushed him when he was a teenager to think about the meaning of love or happiness.
"He once asked me, 'Dion what would make you happy?'" Dion said as he settled into a pew at the back of the church. "'Well, there’s this girl Susan I’d love to get close to. And while you’re at it, throw in a hit record and a Thunderbird.'"
"No, Dion. The virtuous man is the happy man," the monsignor replied.
"I had no idea what he meant," Dion said. "But he told me, it’s the predisposition to do the right thing at the right time in the right way for the right reason."
He sat and looked around the sanctuary, which was bathed in a soft, golden light.
"I wouldn’t be sitting here right now if not for him," he said. "I got lost in my life. But I eventually came back to what he taught me."
11:42 AM
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