From the always reliable, CWN
Archeology evidence points to Old Testament historicity
Hamilton, Ontario, Jan. 28 (CNA/CWNews.com) - Canadian archeologist Russell Adams, a professor at McMaster University, has recently unearthed evidence that points to the historical accuracy of the Bible.
Adams and his team of archeologists have found evidence of the existence of the biblical kingdom of Edom at precisely the time Scripture claims it existed. The evidence flies in the face of a common belief that Edom actually came into existence at least 200 years later.
According to the Globe and Mail newspaper, the group's findings "mean that those scholars convinced that the Hebrew Old Testament is at best a compendium of revisionist, fragmented history, mixed with folklore and theology, and at worst a piece of outright propaganda, likely will have to apply the brakes to their thinking."
The kingdom of Edom, mentioned throughout the Old Testament, and a continuous source of hostility for biblical Israel, is thought to have existed in what is now southern Jordan. The group made their discovery while investigating a copper mining site called Khirbat en-Nahas.
The Globe and Mail said the radiocarbon dating of the finds "firmly established that occupation of the site began in the 11th century BC and a monumental fortress was built in the 10th century BC, supporting the argument for existence of an Edomite state at least 200 years earlier than had been assumed."
The evidence is also said to suggest that the kingdom existed at the same time that David, who Scripture recounts as warring with Edom, was king over Israel.
January 31, 2005
It's Monday, But We Love Papa
I don't really mind Mondays that much. To top it off, I read something really day-brightening on Maggie's blog. She really is giving me a lot of evil ideas, isn't she?
Here's the picture:
And here's the story:
VATICAN CITY (AP) - Pope John Paul II shooed a dove - a symbol of peace - out his apartment window Sunday, chuckling with children who watched in delight as the bird flew back into his room overlooking St. Peter's Square.
The pontiff was addressing thousands of young people from an Italian Catholic organization who marked January as a month to promote peace.
He was flanked at his studio window by a pair of 8-year-olds - a boy and girl - who urged the world to remember children who live in countries wracked by war.
John Paul prayed that young people, ``who so desire peace, become courageous and tenacious builders'' of peace.
Each of the children at his side sent a dove flying, but the white birds, perhaps alarmed by Rome's unusual cold spell, almost immediately darted back into his studio.
Laughing, the 84-year-old ailing pontiff seemed determined to set the symbol free. He grabbed one of the doves as an aide returned the birds to the window sill, and he shooed it out the window and playfully patted the boy on the head.
After a quick flight over the square, the bird quickly fluttered inside again as the pope grinned.
Is that not the cutest thing ever? We love you, Papa!
Here's the picture:
And here's the story:
VATICAN CITY (AP) - Pope John Paul II shooed a dove - a symbol of peace - out his apartment window Sunday, chuckling with children who watched in delight as the bird flew back into his room overlooking St. Peter's Square.
The pontiff was addressing thousands of young people from an Italian Catholic organization who marked January as a month to promote peace.
He was flanked at his studio window by a pair of 8-year-olds - a boy and girl - who urged the world to remember children who live in countries wracked by war.
John Paul prayed that young people, ``who so desire peace, become courageous and tenacious builders'' of peace.
Each of the children at his side sent a dove flying, but the white birds, perhaps alarmed by Rome's unusual cold spell, almost immediately darted back into his studio.
Laughing, the 84-year-old ailing pontiff seemed determined to set the symbol free. He grabbed one of the doves as an aide returned the birds to the window sill, and he shooed it out the window and playfully patted the boy on the head.
After a quick flight over the square, the bird quickly fluttered inside again as the pope grinned.
Is that not the cutest thing ever? We love you, Papa!
January 30, 2005
Maggie Got Me Thinking. Bad Sign, Right?
Anyone who knows her, knows that my twinnie twin sister, Maggie, is a bad influence. I mean, just look at her blog, In Nomine Domini. Obviously a tool of the devil, what with its diabolical "Saint of the Week" posts and bloggings about "What Nuns Do All Day".
Today I read all about Maggie's friend, Merl. Merl, apparently, is one of those people who will ask you: "Are you saved?" Responding that you are working your salvation out with fear and trembling will get you a dark look. The "Merl" types will say: "So you haven't accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Saviour?"
Let's put aside how annoying "Once saved, always saved" theology can be. Let's concentrate on one of Merl's big objections: Mary. Catholics are the only people who walk around calling her "the Blessed Virgin Mary." Nevermind that this practice is endorsed in the Gospel of Luke, it scares a lot of sola scriptura folks.
Why do you call her Queen of Heaven, they'll say. Where is that in the Bible? The answer is, in the Bible, David was King of the Jews. The Jews also had a Queen, but she wasn't King David's wife, she was his mother. Jesus is the true King David, Mary is the true Queen Mother.
Why do you pray to Mary, they'll say. She's dead. The answer is: no she's not. In the Bible it says that the Lord is the Lord of the living, NOT the dead. We believe Mary is alive in Heaven. Only people who go to Hell, die. Those who go to Heaven, have eternal life.
But why do you pray to Mary, even if she's alive? All you need is Jesus. And what about the Rosary and the so many Hail Marys? The answer is, in the Bible St. Paul is always talking about people praying for each other. If we ask the mailman to pray for us, why shouldn't we ask the Mother of God? Sometimes you just need to talk to your Mother.
Hail Mary, Full of Grace the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
This part of the Hail Mary is taken word for word from the Gospel of Luke.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death."
Wasn't Mary a holy woman? Aren't we sinners, in need of prayers? Don't we need extra help when facing death?
There's that Mother of God business. Idolatry! The answer is, in the Bible it is made clear that Jesus has two natures: human and divine. But His "essence" the definition of what He is, His "personhood" is divine. Because He is a divine "person" of the three-person Trinity, and mothers do not give birth to "natures", they give birth to "persons." Mary gave birth to the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, Jesus Christ.
Notice that "gave birth to" does not mean "created". No one is saying that Mary existed before God, or that she made Him, or anything vaguely Greek, like that. And NOT believing that Mary is, in fact, the Mother of God, is to ascribe to old-fashioned Nestorianism, a heresy which denied Mary was Mother of God, and also went the way of denying that Jesus was God at all. It was condemned by the entire Christian world in the 5th century.
See how well-refined my Apologetics skills are? Haha, very funny. Trained by the masters I am, the lovely priests at EWTN. If anyone has any Mary or general Catholic questions, ask ,ask away. If I don't have the answer, I'll ask Maggie, the font of useful knowledge.
Today I read all about Maggie's friend, Merl. Merl, apparently, is one of those people who will ask you: "Are you saved?" Responding that you are working your salvation out with fear and trembling will get you a dark look. The "Merl" types will say: "So you haven't accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Saviour?"
Let's put aside how annoying "Once saved, always saved" theology can be. Let's concentrate on one of Merl's big objections: Mary. Catholics are the only people who walk around calling her "the Blessed Virgin Mary." Nevermind that this practice is endorsed in the Gospel of Luke, it scares a lot of sola scriptura folks.
Why do you call her Queen of Heaven, they'll say. Where is that in the Bible? The answer is, in the Bible, David was King of the Jews. The Jews also had a Queen, but she wasn't King David's wife, she was his mother. Jesus is the true King David, Mary is the true Queen Mother.
Why do you pray to Mary, they'll say. She's dead. The answer is: no she's not. In the Bible it says that the Lord is the Lord of the living, NOT the dead. We believe Mary is alive in Heaven. Only people who go to Hell, die. Those who go to Heaven, have eternal life.
But why do you pray to Mary, even if she's alive? All you need is Jesus. And what about the Rosary and the so many Hail Marys? The answer is, in the Bible St. Paul is always talking about people praying for each other. If we ask the mailman to pray for us, why shouldn't we ask the Mother of God? Sometimes you just need to talk to your Mother.
Hail Mary, Full of Grace the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
This part of the Hail Mary is taken word for word from the Gospel of Luke.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death."
Wasn't Mary a holy woman? Aren't we sinners, in need of prayers? Don't we need extra help when facing death?
There's that Mother of God business. Idolatry! The answer is, in the Bible it is made clear that Jesus has two natures: human and divine. But His "essence" the definition of what He is, His "personhood" is divine. Because He is a divine "person" of the three-person Trinity, and mothers do not give birth to "natures", they give birth to "persons." Mary gave birth to the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, Jesus Christ.
Notice that "gave birth to" does not mean "created". No one is saying that Mary existed before God, or that she made Him, or anything vaguely Greek, like that. And NOT believing that Mary is, in fact, the Mother of God, is to ascribe to old-fashioned Nestorianism, a heresy which denied Mary was Mother of God, and also went the way of denying that Jesus was God at all. It was condemned by the entire Christian world in the 5th century.
See how well-refined my Apologetics skills are? Haha, very funny. Trained by the masters I am, the lovely priests at EWTN. If anyone has any Mary or general Catholic questions, ask ,ask away. If I don't have the answer, I'll ask Maggie, the font of useful knowledge.
January 28, 2005
Prayer Warriors, Draw Your Swords
The Sister Servants need everybody to pray, pray, pray. They're hosting a "Day of Recollection" for about 70 candidates for Confirmation. Tomorrow morning at 9:00 am, everyone's supposed to drive over to their convent.
Problem is, there's an ice storm headed their way. That's right, folks. An ice storm! In Alabama! In Alabama, when there's snow or ice of any measure, NOBODY drives. So pray, pray, pray, that the weather warms up, and the day is a success!
Problem is, there's an ice storm headed their way. That's right, folks. An ice storm! In Alabama! In Alabama, when there's snow or ice of any measure, NOBODY drives. So pray, pray, pray, that the weather warms up, and the day is a success!
January 27, 2005
Shall We Dance? Let's Not
"There has never been a document from our Congregation for Divine Worship and Discipline of the Sacraments saying that dance is approved in the Mass ... It is something that people are introducing in the last ten years -- or twenty years". (See "Cardinal Responds to Questions on Liturgy" Adoremus bulletin October 2003).
One Sunday morning, last summer, I woke up late! A happy accident, I thought. Now we will get to see what the late Mass is like. But no, it was not a happy accident. It was, instead, an occasion for wierdness and distraction.
The noon Mass was celebrated by the older Pastor of the local parish; I was already wary of him, because I noticed he changed the formula of Confession from "I absolve you" to "I forgive you." (This causing me to wonder, hey now, is this obviously illicit Sacrament even valid, when the form or matter has been monkeyed around with?)
Anyway for quite awhile, the Mass went rather well. It was as reverent as it often gets in your typical American parish, which we all know, is not very. But then, after the faithful received Communion, something strange happened. Four oddly-garbed girls descended from the stage (er, I mean the Altar) and began gyrating! They looked like those streamer-waving gymnasts you see at the Olympics.
So, I had to fight the urge to hurl. Because, as any "Liturgist" who goes to Mass without a political agenda knows, dancing is NOT ALLOWED here in America. Not since 1982, when the Bishop's forbade it. There are some cultures, like those in Africa, where dancing and clapping is sacred; for them these things express adoration, and worship. In those places, those things might be somehow appropriate during Mass.
Here in America, dancing is not sacred: It is a performance. Clapping is not part of worship, it a response to a performance. Can you imagine if people clapped for the Consecration? Good grief.
But that is the kind of thinking that is seeping into parishes that promote liturgical dance. Its supporters are usually on the liberal side of things, but, additionally they are also often heterodox. People who want women priests, and that kind of thing.
So if you see any of this funny business going on in your local parish, talk to the pastor. If that doesn't work, talk to the bishop. If that doesn't work, send a letter to this guy:
Francis Cardinal Arinze
Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship
Piazza Pio XII, 10
00193 Vatican City
You might not get an individual response back. But I know that his secretary, Msgr. Jorge Quinones, does, in fact, address many letters personally, especially the really desperate people who write in to report especially desperate cases, like so:
One Sunday morning, last summer, I woke up late! A happy accident, I thought. Now we will get to see what the late Mass is like. But no, it was not a happy accident. It was, instead, an occasion for wierdness and distraction.
The noon Mass was celebrated by the older Pastor of the local parish; I was already wary of him, because I noticed he changed the formula of Confession from "I absolve you" to "I forgive you." (This causing me to wonder, hey now, is this obviously illicit Sacrament even valid, when the form or matter has been monkeyed around with?)
Anyway for quite awhile, the Mass went rather well. It was as reverent as it often gets in your typical American parish, which we all know, is not very. But then, after the faithful received Communion, something strange happened. Four oddly-garbed girls descended from the stage (er, I mean the Altar) and began gyrating! They looked like those streamer-waving gymnasts you see at the Olympics.
So, I had to fight the urge to hurl. Because, as any "Liturgist" who goes to Mass without a political agenda knows, dancing is NOT ALLOWED here in America. Not since 1982, when the Bishop's forbade it. There are some cultures, like those in Africa, where dancing and clapping is sacred; for them these things express adoration, and worship. In those places, those things might be somehow appropriate during Mass.
Here in America, dancing is not sacred: It is a performance. Clapping is not part of worship, it a response to a performance. Can you imagine if people clapped for the Consecration? Good grief.
But that is the kind of thinking that is seeping into parishes that promote liturgical dance. Its supporters are usually on the liberal side of things, but, additionally they are also often heterodox. People who want women priests, and that kind of thing.
So if you see any of this funny business going on in your local parish, talk to the pastor. If that doesn't work, talk to the bishop. If that doesn't work, send a letter to this guy:
Francis Cardinal Arinze
Prefect of the Congregation for Divine Worship
Piazza Pio XII, 10
00193 Vatican City
You might not get an individual response back. But I know that his secretary, Msgr. Jorge Quinones, does, in fact, address many letters personally, especially the really desperate people who write in to report especially desperate cases, like so:
January 26, 2005
Happy Happy Joy Joy
I have had a pretty good day today. Yes I have.
You all probably know that I'm in my second year of this tutoring job at Scott Montgomery Elementary school. Somewhere here, if you scroll down far enough, you'll find a blog entry about how all the kids like to push my buttons. Of course, they're impossible to get mad at, since they're all wearing the cutest plaid uniforms! Nevertheless, if they see you're tired, or sleepy, or "off", they have no sympathy. They think: Miss Betsy is weak, lets cull her away from the rest of the herd and have her lesson plans for a snack.
Anyway, my reading student, Marcia, has been stuck on step 3 of our curriculum allll semester. We're the furthest behind in the whole school. I just couldn't get her to understand the difference between the E and the I sounds! But guess what? I signed her up to test .. and she passed!!!! Now we're going on to phonics blends, step four! I was praying so hard when she was taking that test ... please let her pass, and she did!
Today when I woke up, it was kind of a tough morning. I had English (high pressure) and then Macro Economics (eye-yah-yah) and then French. Actually Wednesdays are my "better" school days, because on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have to deal with my Psychology professor, who thinks faith is an evolved psychological defense mechanism!
But then I opened my email, and it turns out Ameri-Corps responded! And guess what? I don't have to teach kids how to use condoms! I don't have to have anything to do with it. According to my recruiter, they "completely understand", its happened before, and I'll just be put on a different team, a team that doesn't deal with that stuff. Relief! Now, (if I get accepted,) I'll be able to pay off all my college loan debt with one fell swoop (thanks to the grant I get at the end of the Ameri-Corps service year) and then, well, I won't be "financially impeded" as far as pursuing a religious vocation goes. An excellent plot/ scheme, I think.
Later in the day, I had to go to work at the daycare center. My second day! I was soooo worried. I always am with jobs, period. Even when I've been employed somewhere for a couple of months, I still get queasy when I go in. Anyway, my supervisor wasn't there for some reason, but the kids (2 year olds) were going out for a walk, so I was put in charge of one of them.
Guess what kid I got? The one named "Bam-Bam." No, I'm not joking. He was adorable looking, but he liked jumping in puddles, on sidewalk curbs, on bushes, everywhere! I saw him point and say "big truck," and I knew I was going to have to grab him to keep him from jumping into the street. He had to say hello to everyone we met, and I was practically wrenching my arm off trying to get him to keep up with the rest of the kids. Poor little guy, he's really such a sweetie pie.
One of the other children was stuck with us late, because his Mom didn't come pick him up on time. And he was playing with dolls, and when one of the dolls fell over, he'd look up and say "help me". And then he'd run across the room to give me a hug and make me help him.
It was a great way to spend an afternoon, and I didn't feel the excruciating anxiety I usually get at new jobs. It was actually kind of fun, but I'm beat! I took the subway back through the city, and everyone else in DC looks beat too! I checked my mail, and guess what? The Sister Servants of the Eternal Word wrote me an email back! So now I am in a good mood ... which is nice, but .. I'm trying to stop having moods! That's what my "resolution" this week has been: No more moods, not even happy ones. Just steady, unshakable joy in Jesus. Not there yet, but wouldn't that be lovely.
You all probably know that I'm in my second year of this tutoring job at Scott Montgomery Elementary school. Somewhere here, if you scroll down far enough, you'll find a blog entry about how all the kids like to push my buttons. Of course, they're impossible to get mad at, since they're all wearing the cutest plaid uniforms! Nevertheless, if they see you're tired, or sleepy, or "off", they have no sympathy. They think: Miss Betsy is weak, lets cull her away from the rest of the herd and have her lesson plans for a snack.
Anyway, my reading student, Marcia, has been stuck on step 3 of our curriculum allll semester. We're the furthest behind in the whole school. I just couldn't get her to understand the difference between the E and the I sounds! But guess what? I signed her up to test .. and she passed!!!! Now we're going on to phonics blends, step four! I was praying so hard when she was taking that test ... please let her pass, and she did!
Today when I woke up, it was kind of a tough morning. I had English (high pressure) and then Macro Economics (eye-yah-yah) and then French. Actually Wednesdays are my "better" school days, because on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have to deal with my Psychology professor, who thinks faith is an evolved psychological defense mechanism!
But then I opened my email, and it turns out Ameri-Corps responded! And guess what? I don't have to teach kids how to use condoms! I don't have to have anything to do with it. According to my recruiter, they "completely understand", its happened before, and I'll just be put on a different team, a team that doesn't deal with that stuff. Relief! Now, (if I get accepted,) I'll be able to pay off all my college loan debt with one fell swoop (thanks to the grant I get at the end of the Ameri-Corps service year) and then, well, I won't be "financially impeded" as far as pursuing a religious vocation goes. An excellent plot/ scheme, I think.
Later in the day, I had to go to work at the daycare center. My second day! I was soooo worried. I always am with jobs, period. Even when I've been employed somewhere for a couple of months, I still get queasy when I go in. Anyway, my supervisor wasn't there for some reason, but the kids (2 year olds) were going out for a walk, so I was put in charge of one of them.
Guess what kid I got? The one named "Bam-Bam." No, I'm not joking. He was adorable looking, but he liked jumping in puddles, on sidewalk curbs, on bushes, everywhere! I saw him point and say "big truck," and I knew I was going to have to grab him to keep him from jumping into the street. He had to say hello to everyone we met, and I was practically wrenching my arm off trying to get him to keep up with the rest of the kids. Poor little guy, he's really such a sweetie pie.
One of the other children was stuck with us late, because his Mom didn't come pick him up on time. And he was playing with dolls, and when one of the dolls fell over, he'd look up and say "help me". And then he'd run across the room to give me a hug and make me help him.
It was a great way to spend an afternoon, and I didn't feel the excruciating anxiety I usually get at new jobs. It was actually kind of fun, but I'm beat! I took the subway back through the city, and everyone else in DC looks beat too! I checked my mail, and guess what? The Sister Servants of the Eternal Word wrote me an email back! So now I am in a good mood ... which is nice, but .. I'm trying to stop having moods! That's what my "resolution" this week has been: No more moods, not even happy ones. Just steady, unshakable joy in Jesus. Not there yet, but wouldn't that be lovely.
January 25, 2005
Oy Vey
I was going to do Ameri-Corps next year, right? Specifically, the City Year program. They mostly do tutoring, teaching, that kind of thing, in inner city schools. Volunteerism is fun, right?
So, I got my application together. I got my recommendations, my essays, all the paperwork. And then today I get a routine email from my site co-ordinator in Washington, DC, which is where I want to work. The email spotlights the City Year team in DC, and listed under the volunteer activities is this "Make Proud Decisions AIDS Prevention" thing. What's that? Take a wild guess.
It's basically an 8-hour course explaining how to use a condom, why using a condom is cool, and that "sex is still fun and pleasurable, even while using a condom." Now, folks. I am not ever going to get up in front of anybody, let alone a bunch of seventh-grade boys, and tell them all the benefits of using a condom. Never never never never never. Never.
So I wrote my recruiter an email, explaining that, because of my religious beliefs, my participation in that part of the program would be IMPOSSIBLE. Are there any alternatives, I asked. Can any accomodations be made?
She hasn't written back yet. You'd think, in the interests of the diversity they harp so much about, they'd let me on the team anyway. But I'm not one of these sue-happy people who thinks private organizations should be made to conform to government standards of "tolerance." So I guess if they say "no," I'll just go find somewhere to sit down and cry. One time, awhile ago, I got all sobby during Confession, and the priest told me to go by the tabernacle and lay my head down on Jesus' lap. Wasn't that just the perfect thing to say?
So, I got my application together. I got my recommendations, my essays, all the paperwork. And then today I get a routine email from my site co-ordinator in Washington, DC, which is where I want to work. The email spotlights the City Year team in DC, and listed under the volunteer activities is this "Make Proud Decisions AIDS Prevention" thing. What's that? Take a wild guess.
It's basically an 8-hour course explaining how to use a condom, why using a condom is cool, and that "sex is still fun and pleasurable, even while using a condom." Now, folks. I am not ever going to get up in front of anybody, let alone a bunch of seventh-grade boys, and tell them all the benefits of using a condom. Never never never never never. Never.
So I wrote my recruiter an email, explaining that, because of my religious beliefs, my participation in that part of the program would be IMPOSSIBLE. Are there any alternatives, I asked. Can any accomodations be made?
She hasn't written back yet. You'd think, in the interests of the diversity they harp so much about, they'd let me on the team anyway. But I'm not one of these sue-happy people who thinks private organizations should be made to conform to government standards of "tolerance." So I guess if they say "no," I'll just go find somewhere to sit down and cry. One time, awhile ago, I got all sobby during Confession, and the priest told me to go by the tabernacle and lay my head down on Jesus' lap. Wasn't that just the perfect thing to say?
January 24, 2005
Invasion of the Nerds
I've been accused of being : Amish, Puritan, and Nerdy Nerdy Nerdish. According to this quizzy, I am not a nerd, but not very cool either.
Stolen from A Saintly Salmagundi
Stolen from A Saintly Salmagundi
January 23, 2005
Read This One
If you only read one thing I ever ever post, read this thing. Read it the whole way through. If you're a praying person, then pray about it. If you're not, then think about it. Be honest, either with God or with yourself.
Yesterday was my Unhappy Anniversary. Since January 22, 1973 46,023,191 abortions have been committed in the United States. That means nearly 1 out of every 3 pregnancies has ended in abortion.
I'm against abortion in all cases. No exceptions. Not for rape. Not for incest. Not for the life of the mother. This has NOTHING to do with being Catholic, by the way. In fact, you don't even have to believe in God to reject abortion.
The Religious argument
God gives us free will, and He lets us choose. A religious person chooses, and a good religious person says: "Thy will be done, O Lord." The abortion movement calls itself "pro-choice." Now, what does 'pro-choice' mean? It means: "My will be done. A woman's will should be done. The people's will be done." That is not a Christian answer to free will.
Are you this person?: "I'm personally against abortion. I'd never have anything to do with it. But I don't want to impose my religious beliefs on other people."
Are you against stealing cars? Yes? And why is that? A committed Christian would probably answer: It goes against one of the Commandments, which I try to obey.
So, are you imposing your religious beliefs on others when you insist there be a law against stealing automobiles? Of course not! Neither is insisting there be a law prohibiting the willful killing of innocent people, including the unborn. Because as you'll read below, you don't have to be religious to be against abortion!
The Non-Religious argument
First: There is NO scientific proof, whatsoever, that life does not begin at conception. None. People say, you can't prove life begins at conception, scientifically. But the opposite can't be proven either! Given what's at stake (a possible innocent life) isn't it best to err on the side of caution? The abortionist says "Life does not begin at conception." But scientifically speaking, he can't know that for sure. What if he's wrong?
Second: The abortionist says abortion is okay, because a fetus is not a 'person'. Even though a fetus does qualify, medically and legally, as a 'human being,' it does not qualify as a "person", because it lacks "agency" (the ability to make decisions, take actions.) I'm not even going to argue with that assessment. I just find it chilling that some people think a human being should have the power to judge the worth, value, and degree of personhood of another human being. That is arrogance. That is dangerous. That is an unscientific, subjective judgment call.
The Personal argument
I don't go around telling people exactly why I'm vehemently against abortion, and stem cell research, in all cases. It's enough to say: One out of three babies has been murdered since 1973, and one of them was a member of my family. I won't say what relation he is to me, because then, with a little digging, you could find the identity of the mother, and that'd I'd like to keep secret.
The dead baby's name is Michael. Michael's father abandoned his mother. The mother was young and poor. They told her no one would adopt a mixed-race child. And a poor woman could not be a good mother. The baby was better off never being born.
The woman was estranged from the rest of her family, so she was afraid and alone. She had the procedure. She got older, got married, and had more children. But the past haunted her. She was told she had nothing to grieve over. The fetus, they said, was just a wad of tissue.
But she grieved. When her kids were still young, she had a nervous break down. She was put into a padded hospital room. She heard voices, and she spent her days screaming at the imaginary people who were trying to "steal her baby."
There were doctors, so many doctors. They tried, but they could do nothing for her. Her mind was lost. Later, when she was better, they let her go home. They put her on the welfare system, because she could never work again. Even with the drugs, hallucinations still came. She became an alcoholic.
Her life was ruined. If you knew those kids of hers! They're grown now, but if you could look at them today, you'd be able to see, they grew up being sad, all the time.
Their brother, Michael, was murdered. He was deemed 'inconvenient', so somebody took a 'hit' out on him. The man who was paid to kill Michael dismembered his body. The pieces were thrown in a garbage dump. Michael never got a funeral. There is no place for the flowers celebrating the birthday Michael never had, because Michael was never buried. Michael was probably used to fertilize a football field; or possibly in women's cosmetics. No one will ever pay for what happened to Michael, or what happened to his family later.
Anyone who tells you pro-choice is pro-woman, or pro-children, is a liar. Any pro-choice person who asks you to "March for Women's Lives" is a hypocrite. Everytime I hear someone say "I'm pro-choice" I hear: "I know what they did to Michael, to his family, and to you. And I'd let them do it again."
You've probably heard the pro-abortion joke: "If men could get pregnant, abortion would be a sacrament." That's a lie. If men could get pregnant, giving birth would be declared a high achievement, a mark of distinction. If men could get pregnant, the resources of the government would be marshaled to support them during, and after pregnancy.
Abortion tells women: You'll be a bad mother. The child is better off dead.
Abortion tells women: If you become a mother, you won't be able to support the baby. (And its not like we, the society at large, are willing to help support you. Because its not like you're carrying a potential future President, Rocket Scientist, or Cancer Curer.)
Abortion is a crime committed by society against women, and against their children. There's no sane woman alive who wants an abortion, only women who feel pressured, pushed, or coerced by injustice into a decision that ultimately hurts them.
Yesterday was my Unhappy Anniversary. Since January 22, 1973 46,023,191 abortions have been committed in the United States. That means nearly 1 out of every 3 pregnancies has ended in abortion.
I'm against abortion in all cases. No exceptions. Not for rape. Not for incest. Not for the life of the mother. This has NOTHING to do with being Catholic, by the way. In fact, you don't even have to believe in God to reject abortion.
The Religious argument
God gives us free will, and He lets us choose. A religious person chooses, and a good religious person says: "Thy will be done, O Lord." The abortion movement calls itself "pro-choice." Now, what does 'pro-choice' mean? It means: "My will be done. A woman's will should be done. The people's will be done." That is not a Christian answer to free will.
Are you this person?: "I'm personally against abortion. I'd never have anything to do with it. But I don't want to impose my religious beliefs on other people."
Are you against stealing cars? Yes? And why is that? A committed Christian would probably answer: It goes against one of the Commandments, which I try to obey.
So, are you imposing your religious beliefs on others when you insist there be a law against stealing automobiles? Of course not! Neither is insisting there be a law prohibiting the willful killing of innocent people, including the unborn. Because as you'll read below, you don't have to be religious to be against abortion!
The Non-Religious argument
First: There is NO scientific proof, whatsoever, that life does not begin at conception. None. People say, you can't prove life begins at conception, scientifically. But the opposite can't be proven either! Given what's at stake (a possible innocent life) isn't it best to err on the side of caution? The abortionist says "Life does not begin at conception." But scientifically speaking, he can't know that for sure. What if he's wrong?
Second: The abortionist says abortion is okay, because a fetus is not a 'person'. Even though a fetus does qualify, medically and legally, as a 'human being,' it does not qualify as a "person", because it lacks "agency" (the ability to make decisions, take actions.) I'm not even going to argue with that assessment. I just find it chilling that some people think a human being should have the power to judge the worth, value, and degree of personhood of another human being. That is arrogance. That is dangerous. That is an unscientific, subjective judgment call.
The Personal argument
I don't go around telling people exactly why I'm vehemently against abortion, and stem cell research, in all cases. It's enough to say: One out of three babies has been murdered since 1973, and one of them was a member of my family. I won't say what relation he is to me, because then, with a little digging, you could find the identity of the mother, and that'd I'd like to keep secret.
The dead baby's name is Michael. Michael's father abandoned his mother. The mother was young and poor. They told her no one would adopt a mixed-race child. And a poor woman could not be a good mother. The baby was better off never being born.
The woman was estranged from the rest of her family, so she was afraid and alone. She had the procedure. She got older, got married, and had more children. But the past haunted her. She was told she had nothing to grieve over. The fetus, they said, was just a wad of tissue.
But she grieved. When her kids were still young, she had a nervous break down. She was put into a padded hospital room. She heard voices, and she spent her days screaming at the imaginary people who were trying to "steal her baby."
There were doctors, so many doctors. They tried, but they could do nothing for her. Her mind was lost. Later, when she was better, they let her go home. They put her on the welfare system, because she could never work again. Even with the drugs, hallucinations still came. She became an alcoholic.
Her life was ruined. If you knew those kids of hers! They're grown now, but if you could look at them today, you'd be able to see, they grew up being sad, all the time.
Their brother, Michael, was murdered. He was deemed 'inconvenient', so somebody took a 'hit' out on him. The man who was paid to kill Michael dismembered his body. The pieces were thrown in a garbage dump. Michael never got a funeral. There is no place for the flowers celebrating the birthday Michael never had, because Michael was never buried. Michael was probably used to fertilize a football field; or possibly in women's cosmetics. No one will ever pay for what happened to Michael, or what happened to his family later.
Anyone who tells you pro-choice is pro-woman, or pro-children, is a liar. Any pro-choice person who asks you to "March for Women's Lives" is a hypocrite. Everytime I hear someone say "I'm pro-choice" I hear: "I know what they did to Michael, to his family, and to you. And I'd let them do it again."
You've probably heard the pro-abortion joke: "If men could get pregnant, abortion would be a sacrament." That's a lie. If men could get pregnant, giving birth would be declared a high achievement, a mark of distinction. If men could get pregnant, the resources of the government would be marshaled to support them during, and after pregnancy.
Abortion tells women: You'll be a bad mother. The child is better off dead.
Abortion tells women: If you become a mother, you won't be able to support the baby. (And its not like we, the society at large, are willing to help support you. Because its not like you're carrying a potential future President, Rocket Scientist, or Cancer Curer.)
Abortion is a crime committed by society against women, and against their children. There's no sane woman alive who wants an abortion, only women who feel pressured, pushed, or coerced by injustice into a decision that ultimately hurts them.
January 21, 2005
Four More Years!!!
I have an EXCUSE for not blogging a lot. Mommy was here! And we went to the Inauguration! (History bells ringing!)
Me and Ma rode the subway, stuffed in a train, and after a brief time of getting lost, we found a second security check point. We were surrounded by protestors. And of course, there we were wearing "W in 2004" buttons on our hats, surrounded by these people. Well, they were nasty to us. Most of them were college kids. There weren't lots of them, and I'm guessing they had nothing better to do (all the city's universities were closed for the day.)
They had a variety of chants, many using the "Fudge" word. Some other ravings included: "Who is the terrorist? Bush is the terrorist!" and "What do we want? peace! When do we want it? Now!" (If it sounds familiar, its a moldy-oldy from the Vietnam era.)
Security searched us, (after a two hour-three hour wait,) and then we walked over to the Capital! We got there just a few minutes before the Vice-President was sworn in. By far the best part was hearing Chief Justice Rehnquist read the Oath for the President. I really do love the guy, and he was so sweet and brave to get up there and do that, even as he's at death's door!
As for the speech: thumbs up. It was short, and eloquent, and talked a lot about God. (Take that, Michael Newdow!)Although it was kind of nerve-wracking:
It was kind of a STORMY speech! It wasn't you know, warm and cuddly. It was like the President was summoning us to a terrible battle from which we might not return. It was less 'hope' and 'schmaltz' and more ... "All Hail the victorious dead!" (Lord of the Rings, Return of the King quote, when King Theodin is congratulating his people on their victory in Helm's Deep, but while the final battle of Minas Tirith looms ahead, am I not a dork or what.)
Later, we saw some guy screaming "George is the Anti-Christ." Sigh. I would laugh, but I think he must have been mentally ill. I'm not a HUGE George Bush fan (he's way wrong on the death penalty,) but he ain't the Anti-Christ.
The Inaugural was all in all fantastic. We didn't stay for the parade, but we watched it and the Ball coverage at home. Ma only fought with me a couple times. It was great, and I have pictures! (Not of anyone famous, but anyway.) I just plopped back from delivering Ma to the airport. I was so weepy to see her go. Her flight got canceled, but because we were there so early, they were able to get her on another plane. I'm sooooo happy everything worked out. Thank God! Katherine, your prayers and mine were answered, and the answer was: "Fine! I'll keep your Ma out of jail!"
Me and Ma rode the subway, stuffed in a train, and after a brief time of getting lost, we found a second security check point. We were surrounded by protestors. And of course, there we were wearing "W in 2004" buttons on our hats, surrounded by these people. Well, they were nasty to us. Most of them were college kids. There weren't lots of them, and I'm guessing they had nothing better to do (all the city's universities were closed for the day.)
They had a variety of chants, many using the "Fudge" word. Some other ravings included: "Who is the terrorist? Bush is the terrorist!" and "What do we want? peace! When do we want it? Now!" (If it sounds familiar, its a moldy-oldy from the Vietnam era.)
Security searched us, (after a two hour-three hour wait,) and then we walked over to the Capital! We got there just a few minutes before the Vice-President was sworn in. By far the best part was hearing Chief Justice Rehnquist read the Oath for the President. I really do love the guy, and he was so sweet and brave to get up there and do that, even as he's at death's door!
As for the speech: thumbs up. It was short, and eloquent, and talked a lot about God. (Take that, Michael Newdow!)Although it was kind of nerve-wracking:
It was kind of a STORMY speech! It wasn't you know, warm and cuddly. It was like the President was summoning us to a terrible battle from which we might not return. It was less 'hope' and 'schmaltz' and more ... "All Hail the victorious dead!" (Lord of the Rings, Return of the King quote, when King Theodin is congratulating his people on their victory in Helm's Deep, but while the final battle of Minas Tirith looms ahead, am I not a dork or what.)
Later, we saw some guy screaming "George is the Anti-Christ." Sigh. I would laugh, but I think he must have been mentally ill. I'm not a HUGE George Bush fan (he's way wrong on the death penalty,) but he ain't the Anti-Christ.
The Inaugural was all in all fantastic. We didn't stay for the parade, but we watched it and the Ball coverage at home. Ma only fought with me a couple times. It was great, and I have pictures! (Not of anyone famous, but anyway.) I just plopped back from delivering Ma to the airport. I was so weepy to see her go. Her flight got canceled, but because we were there so early, they were able to get her on another plane. I'm sooooo happy everything worked out. Thank God! Katherine, your prayers and mine were answered, and the answer was: "Fine! I'll keep your Ma out of jail!"
January 18, 2005
It Was The Year 1917
The child Jacinta Marto in the fields of Fatima
The nation of Portugal was caught in the grips of war. Three shepherd children were tending their flock in the countryside of the city of Fatima. They were Lucia, 10 years old, and her small companions, Francisco, 9 and Jacinta, 7.
There, they would receive several mystical visits, first from an angel, and then from Mary, Mother of Jesus. During these apparitions, Mary told the children that they must do penance, and pray the Rosary. The children were taught to say the following prayer:
"Oh my Jesus, forgive us our sins, and save us from the fires of Hell, and lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy."
She told them a series of Secrets. If the world does not pray and do penance, Mary warned them, these terrible things will happen.
The day of the final apparition, thousands of people assembled at the site of the reported apparitions. It was pouring rain. The children were wearing flower garlands on their heads, but there was danger in the air. If Mary did not appear, the crowd might become angry and uncontrollable. Happily, Mary did appear, but only to the children. To save their lives and prove her presence to the people, Mary begged a favour of God, which He granted: The Miracle of the Sun. That day, the sun seemed to spin out of the sky, and the thousands fell to the ground in terror. When they opened their eyes, the soaked earth was dry. The mud had turned to dust, and the clouds had cleared away.
Jacinta and Francisco died very soon after, but Lucia grew up and became a Carmelite nun. She is even alive today! She wrote down the things Mary had told her in a letter.
The first two Secrets were published:
1. There would be a greater war, more terrible. This, it was assumed, referred to World War II.
2. Russia must be converted. If Russia is not converted, she will spread her errors throughout the world, and many nations will be annihilated. This, it was assumed, referred to the onset of the Cold War, the spread of Communism, and the Iron Curtain.
The third Secret was not published. It was feared its contents would lead to hysteria among the faithful. It remained secret for many years, and there was speculation that it foretold the end of the world.
In 1981, John Paul II was shot at St. Peter's basilica in Rome. After this attempted assassination, the Pope asked to see the 3rd secret. It was he who finally published it.
3. There was a man, dressed in white, assumed to be the Holy Father ... And they shot him, he was shot dead ...
The death of John Paul II was going to be the fulfillment of the 3rd prophecy; but the Pope did not die! Instead, Russia was converted, Communism fell! Perhaps the prayers of the faithful stalled the Holy Father at the threshold of death, and brought the Berlin Wall crumbling down? That's what my beloved Cardinal Ratzinger seems to think. A few others believe the last Secret has not been fulfilled, that in the future the Church will suffer a great deal even more, and the Holy Father really will be murdered. You can read the official Vatican response and the report from the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith here.
Pray the Rosary!!!
January 17, 2005
Ugh. I have work/class tomorrow! Ugh.
Tomorrow .. I guess I'm going in to work. I don't know, because I haven't gotten a message back from my supervisors. So I'll probably go to the school and get turned away. Awwww I don't mind. Its a good opportunity to get up and get going! And if the subway system breaks down, I'll just say my Rosary.
Speaking of the Rosary (click here to learn how to say it) I've found a new affection for it. In the past I've found it difficult to do; my mind wanders and I can barely say the words in a succinct manner, let alone meditate on the mysteries. But now for some reason, I find it easy and happy-making. I'm ever so grateful, since my older feelings were a cause of some worry.
Happy MLK day! Pray the Rosary!
Speaking of the Rosary (click here to learn how to say it) I've found a new affection for it. In the past I've found it difficult to do; my mind wanders and I can barely say the words in a succinct manner, let alone meditate on the mysteries. But now for some reason, I find it easy and happy-making. I'm ever so grateful, since my older feelings were a cause of some worry.
Happy MLK day! Pray the Rosary!
January 16, 2005
Run for the Hills, Betsy has returned
Well, I'm baaaack, fair denizens of Washington, back to annoy the living crap out of you! Back in my room, which seems to have shrunk over break. I spent all night unpacking, and I wasn't finished until I triumphantly put the magnet Katherine gave me for Christmas on my refrigerator. "I'm single for a reason," it proclaims,"my beauty, humor and intelligence intimidates most men." Aren't I sassy? It is all so true, of course.
It was Sunday today, which means I didn't do anything except roll out of bed and go to Mass. Tomorrow is Martin Luther King day. I can't get too excited about that, because the holiday honors a man I have a hard time appreciating ( he was a womanizer.) Before anyone attacks me for being a racist slug: I'm an equal opportunity dis-er. Thomas Jefferson? No kudos. John F. Kennedy? Definitely no kudos. Rudy Giuliani? He makes me froth at the mouth, a. because he broke his vows, and b. he's a pro-abortion "Catholic" politician..
All these men society holds up for high respect have one thing in common: they all abused and mistreated women. In addition, if a woman behaved as they behaved, she'd have been found out immediately in the press, branded "easy" and cast off from society like a dirty sock. I don't think we should be giving anyone who treats a woman with disrespect a trophy for anything!
Now, you might think differntly from the above ravings. But I am NOT a feminist! Well, not a feminist the way the word is used nowadays. I think women were, in many ways, better than men, before we fought for 'equality.' Apparently, there are lots of 'feminists' out there who think 'equality' means 'the freedom to imitate men in all ways, that by doing this we might be able to achieve something and get somewhere.' As if a woman who acts like a woman can't get anywhere. Dishonest, self-defeating sillyness, if you ask me.
See you tomorrow, little blog.
It was Sunday today, which means I didn't do anything except roll out of bed and go to Mass. Tomorrow is Martin Luther King day. I can't get too excited about that, because the holiday honors a man I have a hard time appreciating ( he was a womanizer.) Before anyone attacks me for being a racist slug: I'm an equal opportunity dis-er. Thomas Jefferson? No kudos. John F. Kennedy? Definitely no kudos. Rudy Giuliani? He makes me froth at the mouth, a. because he broke his vows, and b. he's a pro-abortion "Catholic" politician..
All these men society holds up for high respect have one thing in common: they all abused and mistreated women. In addition, if a woman behaved as they behaved, she'd have been found out immediately in the press, branded "easy" and cast off from society like a dirty sock. I don't think we should be giving anyone who treats a woman with disrespect a trophy for anything!
Now, you might think differntly from the above ravings. But I am NOT a feminist! Well, not a feminist the way the word is used nowadays. I think women were, in many ways, better than men, before we fought for 'equality.' Apparently, there are lots of 'feminists' out there who think 'equality' means 'the freedom to imitate men in all ways, that by doing this we might be able to achieve something and get somewhere.' As if a woman who acts like a woman can't get anywhere. Dishonest, self-defeating sillyness, if you ask me.
See you tomorrow, little blog.
January 15, 2005
Blast Off!
Later today I'm going home ... egawd, I can't believe I actually said that! I've actually started thinking of DC as 'home'. Weird, creepy, etc., isn't it? It's going to be fun, because, if I haven't told you before, my building sits a block away from the White House. The whole area is going to be sealed up like a tupper ware container, and there will be plenty of MWV (infamous Menacing White Vans) and cops to make life nervous. All of this in preparation for next week's festivities!
Speaking of which ... I got two tickets to the Presidential Inauguration! Thank you, Mr. President, or whomever among your minions sent me my letter, for inviting me! Originally, my sister Maggles was going to come see this historic event, but noooo she had 'class.' Blah, silly cop-out for impoverished, stingy college girl.
So, I thought of who I could take with me, and I thought of my dear friend, Shannon, who is an uber Republican, and had a toughie year and sooo deserves some fun. But her Mommy couldn't let her come. And, I realized, allll my friends at GW are Democrats! Now, I'm friends with these people, and perhaps they'd like to go the Inaugural, just for the history. But I don't really wanna be smiling my head off and have a guest next to me who isn't so happy. Because it would be insensitive, right? I felt that way after the election ... I wanted to skip down the street, but I felt mean about it. So I pretended to be sad like everybody else; it wasn't really pretending either, because I got sad that everybody else was depressed!
Anyway, now my Ma wants to come. If you know my Ma, you know what that means. High stress. Pray, pray, pray that she doesn't get frustrated about something, yell at someone important, and get tackled by Secret Service agents.
Speaking of which ... I got two tickets to the Presidential Inauguration! Thank you, Mr. President, or whomever among your minions sent me my letter, for inviting me! Originally, my sister Maggles was going to come see this historic event, but noooo she had 'class.' Blah, silly cop-out for impoverished, stingy college girl.
So, I thought of who I could take with me, and I thought of my dear friend, Shannon, who is an uber Republican, and had a toughie year and sooo deserves some fun. But her Mommy couldn't let her come. And, I realized, allll my friends at GW are Democrats! Now, I'm friends with these people, and perhaps they'd like to go the Inaugural, just for the history. But I don't really wanna be smiling my head off and have a guest next to me who isn't so happy. Because it would be insensitive, right? I felt that way after the election ... I wanted to skip down the street, but I felt mean about it. So I pretended to be sad like everybody else; it wasn't really pretending either, because I got sad that everybody else was depressed!
Anyway, now my Ma wants to come. If you know my Ma, you know what that means. High stress. Pray, pray, pray that she doesn't get frustrated about something, yell at someone important, and get tackled by Secret Service agents.
January 13, 2005
More Vocation Blather
So I've been thinking more about this apostolic/contemplative thing. On the one hand, I find it so beautiful that for contemplative nuns, their big job is "to pray for the world." It's just soooo beautiful. I would love to have that job. What a wonderful job! On the other hand, catechesis and that kind of thing interests me, too. I believe the Catholic Church is at war with evil, and I want to join the battle! Prayer is a powerful weapon, and I'd never consider a community that didn't make prayer their top priority, their first apostolate. I've thought of The Parish Visitors of Mary Immaculate; they really do help save a lot of souls. And then there are those wonderful Sister Servants of the Eternal Word.
Is any of this really God's will for me? Or is it just something I want? If someone asked me if I was just running away from something, I would answer "definitely not." But honestly, I am running away, in a way. I remember when I first came to college, I got so depressed. I was making good grades, and I had very nice, well-behaved friends, but I felt like crying all the time! My Aunt (see the post of January 10, 2005) was pressuring me a lot about building a resume, and 'networking' and all of that stuff. I was looking ahead past college life, and all I saw was a series of attempts to prove myself, to achieve stuff, to win admiration and respect of other people, to get a pile of money,etc. I saw lots of stress ahead, and for what? What did it matter that other people thought I was super-duper?
All of a sudden, I just didn't want the rat race. I didn't want to beat people, and get beaten, and see who ended up on top of the pile at the end. When a religious vocation first started turning over in my head, the thought just added more stress to my life. But I was surfing around the internet one day, and I came upon a website for the Carmel.
And written on that page were the words: "The world cares what you do. We love you because of who you are."
Blessed relief! I wanted to cry for joy. I kept surfing, and here on this very page for the Carmelite Sisters of the Divine Heart of Jesus, is the sentence: "We value every Sister, not because of the position she holds or has held in the community but because she is our Sister!"
In a way I am running away. I'm running away from a world that wants to measure my worth by how high my grades are, or how big my social network is, or what kind of job I get, or how much money I make. I want to be around people who love people because of who they are! Because they are children of God! And I want to let other people know that God loves them and my Sisters love them, and I love them, unconditionally, just because of who they are!
Is any of this really God's will for me? Or is it just something I want? If someone asked me if I was just running away from something, I would answer "definitely not." But honestly, I am running away, in a way. I remember when I first came to college, I got so depressed. I was making good grades, and I had very nice, well-behaved friends, but I felt like crying all the time! My Aunt (see the post of January 10, 2005) was pressuring me a lot about building a resume, and 'networking' and all of that stuff. I was looking ahead past college life, and all I saw was a series of attempts to prove myself, to achieve stuff, to win admiration and respect of other people, to get a pile of money,etc. I saw lots of stress ahead, and for what? What did it matter that other people thought I was super-duper?
All of a sudden, I just didn't want the rat race. I didn't want to beat people, and get beaten, and see who ended up on top of the pile at the end. When a religious vocation first started turning over in my head, the thought just added more stress to my life. But I was surfing around the internet one day, and I came upon a website for the Carmel.
And written on that page were the words: "The world cares what you do. We love you because of who you are."
Blessed relief! I wanted to cry for joy. I kept surfing, and here on this very page for the Carmelite Sisters of the Divine Heart of Jesus, is the sentence: "We value every Sister, not because of the position she holds or has held in the community but because she is our Sister!"
In a way I am running away. I'm running away from a world that wants to measure my worth by how high my grades are, or how big my social network is, or what kind of job I get, or how much money I make. I want to be around people who love people because of who they are! Because they are children of God! And I want to let other people know that God loves them and my Sisters love them, and I love them, unconditionally, just because of who they are!
January 12, 2005
My teeth are special now
So, I went to the dentist today! Got my teeth cleaned! I hadn't been to the dentist in 2 years (I hate, hate, hate the dentist,) but he said my teeth were in remarkably good shape, and I should keep doing all the right things. (Goody, yay!) He also said, that at some point, I'm going to have to have my wisdom teeth yanked (Not so yay.)
I now have ... 2 days left on my vacation. Two full days. Why do I feel so weepy? I've decided to be an adult about going back to school: I am going to look forward to it come whatever. Even though I'm really nervous about this new job.
Chin up, Elizabeth. God is crazy about you.
I now have ... 2 days left on my vacation. Two full days. Why do I feel so weepy? I've decided to be an adult about going back to school: I am going to look forward to it come whatever. Even though I'm really nervous about this new job.
Chin up, Elizabeth. God is crazy about you.
January 11, 2005
Apostolic? Or Strictly Cloistered? A Reflection
I think, I truly believe, the highest religious vocation a woman can have in the Church, is that of the cloistered nun. Her time is completely devoted to the worship of God. She has chosen “the better part.” Everything of her own has been sacrificed. Her life is a true Holocaust. Is the contemplative vocation very hard? Certainly, it involves a great act of trust, to walk behind a cloister door and shut all the old familiar things away, forever. The separation is more complete, more intense, in many ways more painful. But a contemplative has the benefit of embracing the whole world. There is nowhere a contemplative can not travel, no apostolate she can not reach, by the power of prayer and the mercy of God. A cloistered nun was even given as patroness to the foreign missions!
And then there are apostolic Sisters, who work amongst the people of God. Through these, God may often choose to answer the prayer of a contemplative. The apostolic Sister’s vocation requires a great deal of faith too, because she is not shielded by the cloister. She is exposed to a variety of temptations, and distractions; and she lives as a constant contradiction to her surroundings. Her virtue in the face of this menace, and her courage in choosing this life, in spite of these threats, is truly heroic.
Both of them are called to pray always. Prayer must be their first work, always. Their work must be a prayer, always. The cloistered nun is like our Lord, in the tabernacle. She is jailed; she has her cell, and there are iron bars in the parlour. She and the Lord are willing prisoners, prisoners of Love! She imitates our Lord in His silent, constant Presence, hidden behind the tabernacle door. The apostolic Sister imitates our Lord, when He suffers the humiliation of coming out of the tabernacle, and working in and amongst His people. The Lord’s must give His consent to take on the humble accidents of bread before He might submit to further indignity in the mouths of the ungrateful. So the apostolic Sister should not hesitate to tell her contemplative Sister, without embarrassment: “You are first, you proceed me.” The contemplative lives the nativity, and the hidden years of Our Lord here on Earth, while the apostolic Sister can claim His public ministry as her own. Both of them must be reflections of our Jesus on the Cross, ever poor, ever pure, ever obedient.
And then there are apostolic Sisters, who work amongst the people of God. Through these, God may often choose to answer the prayer of a contemplative. The apostolic Sister’s vocation requires a great deal of faith too, because she is not shielded by the cloister. She is exposed to a variety of temptations, and distractions; and she lives as a constant contradiction to her surroundings. Her virtue in the face of this menace, and her courage in choosing this life, in spite of these threats, is truly heroic.
Both of them are called to pray always. Prayer must be their first work, always. Their work must be a prayer, always. The cloistered nun is like our Lord, in the tabernacle. She is jailed; she has her cell, and there are iron bars in the parlour. She and the Lord are willing prisoners, prisoners of Love! She imitates our Lord in His silent, constant Presence, hidden behind the tabernacle door. The apostolic Sister imitates our Lord, when He suffers the humiliation of coming out of the tabernacle, and working in and amongst His people. The Lord’s must give His consent to take on the humble accidents of bread before He might submit to further indignity in the mouths of the ungrateful. So the apostolic Sister should not hesitate to tell her contemplative Sister, without embarrassment: “You are first, you proceed me.” The contemplative lives the nativity, and the hidden years of Our Lord here on Earth, while the apostolic Sister can claim His public ministry as her own. Both of them must be reflections of our Jesus on the Cross, ever poor, ever pure, ever obedient.
January 10, 2005
Did I Ever Tell You ...
... about my Aunt Cay? I never set eyes on her until I was 9 years old. But she took an interest in my sister, Maggie, and I; Mom always said it was because she never had any daughters of her own. (My Aunt Cay did have 2 sons, my cousins. I met them once, when I was nine, and never saw them again.) Anyway, shortly after my grandmother's death, she offered to pay for me and Maggie's college tuition. There were conditions, of course. I had to allow her to 'help' me choose my major, etc. She actually made me sign a contract.
All of this was fine and dandy, I didn't mind at all. Allthough I didn't like depending on 'uncertain' cash for college, I really needed it. Afterall, George Washington University isn't cheap. So I agreed. Then, last spring, I went to visit her, as I was required by the contract. I admit I was being a little bit of a brat to her. I wasn't being 'careful.' For whatever reason, I wasn't afraid of her, as I usually was.
One afternoon, she told me she wanted me to accompany her to a party. We were making meatballs for the party in the kitchen, and I asked her what the party was celebrating. "Never mind," she said. When I heard that, I was alarmed. What's she hiding, I thought. I pressed her, and she finally admitted it: It was a party celebrating the success of a Planned Parenthood fundraising drive.
Now, my Aunt knew perfectly well that I was a Catholic. And she knew well that the issue of abortion was particularly terrible for me, given the role abortion has played in my life. And I had the distinct impression, and still do, that if I had not inquired about the point of this party, she would have duped me blind, into going.
This was two weeks before my Confirmation, when I would recieve the final sacrament of initiation, and be converted into the Church! Obviously, I could not go with her. But she went anyway, and carried the hot pot of meatballs with her. She was furious.
I spent the rest of the week shut up in my room. She would yell at me as soon as look at me, and it was pure torture living there. It was the closest I have ever been to God, outside of church. I thought: this is a test of my faith, just before Confirmation. I was weirdly happy!
Later on, she wrote me and my sister a letter explaining just what she thought of us. You can read it, and our responses, here. It was apparent: I could admit I should have gone with her, or lose my college money. I apologized for being mean, for being ungrateful. But I could not admit I was wrong about going! She cut us off, but God provided. I got an unexpected academic scholarship, which more than made up for the money she was paying. I returned to GWU the next year, this year.
I'm not posting this to beat up on her, or anything like that. There's two sides to every story, believe me. I was more than a little smug about telling her the truth, and that's my sin, not her's. But I really recommend reading the letter she wrote me, just to see how Satan can speak through people. And how the Lord can take evil acts and accomplish good!
I was accused of being a Pharisee. I was slandered up and down. Her neighbors and friends hated my guts. She even told her side of the story to the local parish priest. But in the midst of her diatribe, there was the hand of God! Read with care her line: " I am not spending this kind of money for people who are obviously headed for the nunnery"...
When I read that, I thought: "hmm. Well, so what if I am. The thought of religious life had turned over, uneasily, in my mind. But I was far from firm in my conviction. In fact, I still thought the idea rather silly. Her criticism brought the idea to the forefront of my thoughts: She thinks I'm going to be a nun! How about that!
This experience was a major turning point in my discernment. On Confirmation day, I felt strong, purified by fire. And it was not long afterwards that I became rather certain about the direction I wanted to go; and all as a result of my tussle with this misguided woman! Never despair, ever. For God brings good out of every evil.
All of this was fine and dandy, I didn't mind at all. Allthough I didn't like depending on 'uncertain' cash for college, I really needed it. Afterall, George Washington University isn't cheap. So I agreed. Then, last spring, I went to visit her, as I was required by the contract. I admit I was being a little bit of a brat to her. I wasn't being 'careful.' For whatever reason, I wasn't afraid of her, as I usually was.
One afternoon, she told me she wanted me to accompany her to a party. We were making meatballs for the party in the kitchen, and I asked her what the party was celebrating. "Never mind," she said. When I heard that, I was alarmed. What's she hiding, I thought. I pressed her, and she finally admitted it: It was a party celebrating the success of a Planned Parenthood fundraising drive.
Now, my Aunt knew perfectly well that I was a Catholic. And she knew well that the issue of abortion was particularly terrible for me, given the role abortion has played in my life. And I had the distinct impression, and still do, that if I had not inquired about the point of this party, she would have duped me blind, into going.
This was two weeks before my Confirmation, when I would recieve the final sacrament of initiation, and be converted into the Church! Obviously, I could not go with her. But she went anyway, and carried the hot pot of meatballs with her. She was furious.
I spent the rest of the week shut up in my room. She would yell at me as soon as look at me, and it was pure torture living there. It was the closest I have ever been to God, outside of church. I thought: this is a test of my faith, just before Confirmation. I was weirdly happy!
Later on, she wrote me and my sister a letter explaining just what she thought of us. You can read it, and our responses, here. It was apparent: I could admit I should have gone with her, or lose my college money. I apologized for being mean, for being ungrateful. But I could not admit I was wrong about going! She cut us off, but God provided. I got an unexpected academic scholarship, which more than made up for the money she was paying. I returned to GWU the next year, this year.
I'm not posting this to beat up on her, or anything like that. There's two sides to every story, believe me. I was more than a little smug about telling her the truth, and that's my sin, not her's. But I really recommend reading the letter she wrote me, just to see how Satan can speak through people. And how the Lord can take evil acts and accomplish good!
I was accused of being a Pharisee. I was slandered up and down. Her neighbors and friends hated my guts. She even told her side of the story to the local parish priest. But in the midst of her diatribe, there was the hand of God! Read with care her line: " I am not spending this kind of money for people who are obviously headed for the nunnery"...
When I read that, I thought: "hmm. Well, so what if I am. The thought of religious life had turned over, uneasily, in my mind. But I was far from firm in my conviction. In fact, I still thought the idea rather silly. Her criticism brought the idea to the forefront of my thoughts: She thinks I'm going to be a nun! How about that!
This experience was a major turning point in my discernment. On Confirmation day, I felt strong, purified by fire. And it was not long afterwards that I became rather certain about the direction I wanted to go; and all as a result of my tussle with this misguided woman! Never despair, ever. For God brings good out of every evil.
January 9, 2005
Major Discernment Burp
I've been thinking, a lot. Which, in case you don't know, is not the same as praying. I'm much better at thinking than praying. In fact, I frequently find myself thinking about things when I mean to be praying about them.
Since I began my discernment last year, I have felt called to the contemplative life; to a life of prayer, exclusively. I have never met a cloistered nun, but I so wanted to be one! The vows of the contemplative, I knew, were 'solemn'. And that vocation expressed a greater faith in Christ; for if Jesus is not truly the Son of God, then nuns are completely wasting their lives, spending all their time contemplating Him!
I was also attracted because the cloistered orders seemed more orthodox. Many of the active orders I ran into were feminist, ecology-centered, socialist. They were religious in the loosest sense of the word. The contemplatives, I discovered, were more likely to wear the habit, love Mama Maria, obey the Pope, and truly be servants of Christ. I read all about St. Therese and St. Teresa of Avila, and I fell in love with Carmel. You can see the letters I've received from Carmels across the United States, posted on this blog. I've also considered the cloistered life of the Dominicans (check out a cloistered Dominican monastery's blog in the links section!)
Recently, however, I stumbled across The Sister Servants of the Eternal Word, a newer order. They wear a full habit. More importantly, look at their list of apostolates: "prayer, catechesis, and retreats." Prayer first! In an apostolic order! And they teach. And they take care of laity and priests, who come to give and receive retreats.
They don't have to go far from their Convent in Birmingham, Alabama, because their apostolate is right there! They can stay and pray, pray, pray. While they follow the rule of St. Francis, St. Dominic is also their patron, and their habit is basically Dominican, with a Franciscan 'flavor.' Franciscan and Domincan in one shot! Who woulda guessed it? They are so wonderfully orthodox, and try listening to them sing!
I don't know if this is just puppy love or not. Obviously, I'll have to pray, and visit with them to find out. In the meantime, I've been meditating (eeeeeeek. 'meditating' can sometimes turn into 'thinking') on the differences between the active-contemplative vocation and the purely contemplative one. I'll be posting these thoughts later. In the meantime, pray for my wisdom, and my sanity!
Since I began my discernment last year, I have felt called to the contemplative life; to a life of prayer, exclusively. I have never met a cloistered nun, but I so wanted to be one! The vows of the contemplative, I knew, were 'solemn'. And that vocation expressed a greater faith in Christ; for if Jesus is not truly the Son of God, then nuns are completely wasting their lives, spending all their time contemplating Him!
I was also attracted because the cloistered orders seemed more orthodox. Many of the active orders I ran into were feminist, ecology-centered, socialist. They were religious in the loosest sense of the word. The contemplatives, I discovered, were more likely to wear the habit, love Mama Maria, obey the Pope, and truly be servants of Christ. I read all about St. Therese and St. Teresa of Avila, and I fell in love with Carmel. You can see the letters I've received from Carmels across the United States, posted on this blog. I've also considered the cloistered life of the Dominicans (check out a cloistered Dominican monastery's blog in the links section!)
Recently, however, I stumbled across The Sister Servants of the Eternal Word, a newer order. They wear a full habit. More importantly, look at their list of apostolates: "prayer, catechesis, and retreats." Prayer first! In an apostolic order! And they teach. And they take care of laity and priests, who come to give and receive retreats.
They don't have to go far from their Convent in Birmingham, Alabama, because their apostolate is right there! They can stay and pray, pray, pray. While they follow the rule of St. Francis, St. Dominic is also their patron, and their habit is basically Dominican, with a Franciscan 'flavor.' Franciscan and Domincan in one shot! Who woulda guessed it? They are so wonderfully orthodox, and try listening to them sing!
I don't know if this is just puppy love or not. Obviously, I'll have to pray, and visit with them to find out. In the meantime, I've been meditating (eeeeeeek. 'meditating' can sometimes turn into 'thinking') on the differences between the active-contemplative vocation and the purely contemplative one. I'll be posting these thoughts later. In the meantime, pray for my wisdom, and my sanity!
January 8, 2005
Saga of the Blood Suckers
That's a really great title for a blog entry, don't you think?
Remember when I said I was going to the doctor's office? And then the visit became side-tracked? Well the thing has turned into an all week affair. I went back to the doctor on Thursday, this time by myself. I had my physical alright, and the doctor asked me if my mother was okay. He was very, very nice.
I also had a Tuberculosis test done. That involves injecting my arm with an aggressive kind of something, and waiting for 2 days to see if a blistering sore develops. Fun huh? If the malicious tuberculosis germ is present, the antibodies dispatched by my immune system to defeat it will be iritated by the injection. If, however, I am 'clean', the injection site will be smooth as a baby's bottom.
Additionally, I needed a blood test for syphillis. Syphillis, as in the disease which turns brains to swiss cheese. Unfortunately, the lab was closed on Thursday, so I had to go back on Friday. They sucked a vial of my blood, and I walked around with the cotton swab on my arm all day, very smug and satisfied with myself.
Today I was supposed to go show the doctor my tuberculosis-free arm, but they were closed! So what am I going to do? I'll have to drive my Mom to work, and one of her nurse friends will have to sign off on the fact that I am infectionless. Good grief, what a bonanza.
The whole experience has been very good for my pride though, as every time I turn around, there's a new humiliation. It is especially so for me, being one of the vast, unwashed, UNINSURED. Every time I see a doctor, the nurse has to ask "Insurance card, please?" I answer "I only have catastrophic insurance." And she replies, in a loud voice : "are you self-pay then? Will you be self-paying?
Sighhhh. There is no humility without humiliation.
Remember when I said I was going to the doctor's office? And then the visit became side-tracked? Well the thing has turned into an all week affair. I went back to the doctor on Thursday, this time by myself. I had my physical alright, and the doctor asked me if my mother was okay. He was very, very nice.
I also had a Tuberculosis test done. That involves injecting my arm with an aggressive kind of something, and waiting for 2 days to see if a blistering sore develops. Fun huh? If the malicious tuberculosis germ is present, the antibodies dispatched by my immune system to defeat it will be iritated by the injection. If, however, I am 'clean', the injection site will be smooth as a baby's bottom.
Additionally, I needed a blood test for syphillis. Syphillis, as in the disease which turns brains to swiss cheese. Unfortunately, the lab was closed on Thursday, so I had to go back on Friday. They sucked a vial of my blood, and I walked around with the cotton swab on my arm all day, very smug and satisfied with myself.
Today I was supposed to go show the doctor my tuberculosis-free arm, but they were closed! So what am I going to do? I'll have to drive my Mom to work, and one of her nurse friends will have to sign off on the fact that I am infectionless. Good grief, what a bonanza.
The whole experience has been very good for my pride though, as every time I turn around, there's a new humiliation. It is especially so for me, being one of the vast, unwashed, UNINSURED. Every time I see a doctor, the nurse has to ask "Insurance card, please?" I answer "I only have catastrophic insurance." And she replies, in a loud voice : "are you self-pay then? Will you be self-paying?
Sighhhh. There is no humility without humiliation.
January 6, 2005
Time For A Hot Chocolate Break!
My bestest friends, in order, from left to right: KitKat (Katherine), Katie, Maggie (my sister), Carli, and Mysterious Girl X. They're the best girls in the whole world! Not Pictured: My dear buddy Nicholas, the silly goose who is, at this very moment, enjoying the Floridian sun. Am I bitter? Not at all.
January 5, 2005
If I Were Papa, I'd Be ...
You are Pope John Paul II. You are a force to be
reckoned with.
Which Twentieth Century Pope Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
January 4, 2005
Okay, I Lied
I said I would blog yesterday about how my doctor's appointment went. But I lied. I didn't blog about getting poked or prodded at the doctors. Why?
Because Mom tagged along. And Mom blew up. There were some old ladies sitting behind us, and they were kind of hard of hearing. So they talked loudly to each other, and often they would turn to one another and say "what did she say?"
No, I kid you not. So Mom, was giving them dirty looks, because they were irritating her. To no avail. This on top of the fact that the doctor was running twenty minutes late.
So Mom was complaining in a rather loud voice "I think talking loud is invasive." I told her that she should either 1. Go wait in the car and listen to some music or 2. Zip her lips
No one takes my advice, however. She got through People magazine, and then she stomped around the corner to the front desk to complain about the long wait. When she came back, she was waving her hands in the air like a banshee, so I knew the gig was up. I left her in the office, and I went to go get the car.
So, I got in the car, drove over to the front door, and waited for her to realize I had left. She did, eventually, and we were driving home just fine. They rescheduled my appointment for this Thursday, tomorrow. But Mom, she was not fine. She periodically was reaching over my arms to beep the horn whenever traffic stopped. At one point, she rolled down the window and screamed her head off at a jam. She flicked one guy off, and she said she was going to 'get out' and show him a thing or to at the next light. So I locked the windows and doors and we were okay.
It was an act of God that we got home safe and sound. Thank you Jesus! I really feel badly for Mom, and for the people she yelled at. I know what its like to deal with angry customers, and I know Mom only misbehaves when she's scared and feels out of control. Hopefully today will be better. I didn't sleep at all, so I got the boys up and off to school and let her sleep in. Its a good start, anyway!
Because Mom tagged along. And Mom blew up. There were some old ladies sitting behind us, and they were kind of hard of hearing. So they talked loudly to each other, and often they would turn to one another and say "what did she say?"
No, I kid you not. So Mom, was giving them dirty looks, because they were irritating her. To no avail. This on top of the fact that the doctor was running twenty minutes late.
So Mom was complaining in a rather loud voice "I think talking loud is invasive." I told her that she should either 1. Go wait in the car and listen to some music or 2. Zip her lips
No one takes my advice, however. She got through People magazine, and then she stomped around the corner to the front desk to complain about the long wait. When she came back, she was waving her hands in the air like a banshee, so I knew the gig was up. I left her in the office, and I went to go get the car.
So, I got in the car, drove over to the front door, and waited for her to realize I had left. She did, eventually, and we were driving home just fine. They rescheduled my appointment for this Thursday, tomorrow. But Mom, she was not fine. She periodically was reaching over my arms to beep the horn whenever traffic stopped. At one point, she rolled down the window and screamed her head off at a jam. She flicked one guy off, and she said she was going to 'get out' and show him a thing or to at the next light. So I locked the windows and doors and we were okay.
It was an act of God that we got home safe and sound. Thank you Jesus! I really feel badly for Mom, and for the people she yelled at. I know what its like to deal with angry customers, and I know Mom only misbehaves when she's scared and feels out of control. Hopefully today will be better. I didn't sleep at all, so I got the boys up and off to school and let her sleep in. Its a good start, anyway!
January 3, 2005
Rain, Rain, Rain
Today was yucky, really yucky. It rained and it rained and it rained, and it was a slushy rain too. In January! In Ohio! I can't complain, however, because of that huge tidal wave, which everyone insists on calling a 'tsunami'. If you can, donate to Catholic Relief Services. Now, they have reasons to hate water.
My sister, Maggie, went back to college yesterday. I was weepy over that, for some reason. I guess it's because the idea of making the 'leap' is becoming clearer in my mind, and afterthat, well. I guess I won't be losing my sister, but I'll be gaining tons of sisters, who I have to love just as much as I love her ... sigh.
Tomorrow I have a doctors appointement; they're give me a physical and test me for tuberculosis. I'll report on the prodding and poking tomorrow.
P.S. Happy New Year!!!
My sister, Maggie, went back to college yesterday. I was weepy over that, for some reason. I guess it's because the idea of making the 'leap' is becoming clearer in my mind, and afterthat, well. I guess I won't be losing my sister, but I'll be gaining tons of sisters, who I have to love just as much as I love her ... sigh.
Tomorrow I have a doctors appointement; they're give me a physical and test me for tuberculosis. I'll report on the prodding and poking tomorrow.
P.S. Happy New Year!!!
January 1, 2005
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