Lent annoys me, it always has.
My knee-jerk reaction to anything "must" is to avoid it and not comply. That's my own personal problem, it's related to pride and obedience, I get that.
So anyway, this year, having a much better grip on my Catholic faith, I started out thinking that I would do the minimum requirements just as a sign of obedience, hoping something good would come of it, which will then lead me to further ideas of how to take up my own cross.
On Ash Wednesday, I woke up all committed to fasting as prescribed by the Church, as well as getting off sugar and grain. I admit the sugar and grain thing is a health initiative, not something I'm doing to get closer to Christ, but figured it was just as well to begin on that day and commit it to God.
Problem one is that I never consciously committed it to God.
Problem two is that combining fasting on the same day as going cold turkey on carbs was a really bad idea from a purely physical perspective.
Did you read this amazing blog entry by Elizabeth Esther about how she recognized that she needed to stop punishing herself on Ash Wednesday? If you haven't, please do, because it's just honestly refreshing. I can relate to what she wrote because here's how Ash Wednesday started to shape up at our house, around 7:00 p.m.:
Husband: Meekly inquiring about what's for dinner
Me: There's a bag of parmesan-crusted tilapia in the freezer, you can make that if you want.
Me: Starving, crabby, feeling like I'm going to lose it if I don't eat real food.
Husband: Does that mean you don't want any? What are you going to eat?
Me: (Starting to lose it) I'm not supposed to eat that tilapia because it has breading made out of wheat. That's why I didn't get Fish McBites at McDonald's when I took Alan there for lunch.
Husband: What are you going to eat?
Me: (Screaming) I don't know!!! I f*cking HATE fish!!!!! I f*cking, f*cking, f*cking hate fish!!!! (Actually, I don't hate fish. I just dislike most of it. I need it to be expensive and fancy for me to truly appreciate it.)
Husband: (Looking like a deer in the headlights) Maybe you should just eat something.
Me: Yeah, I think I will. Screw this Ash Wednesday stuff. (I ate a bunch of food, I don't remember what. I'm sure it included meat.)
So, let's jump over to this past week, when our family took advantage of a "Spring Break" at Alan's school to go to a waterpark overnight, Thursday to Friday.
Me: This is going to be impossible to stay low-carb while visiting a cess pool of pizza, french fries, and frozen margaritas.
Husband: Stay strong, we'll do whatever it takes to get you the food you need.
Thursday lunch: Bought a container of tuna salad and brought it into the waterpark. Celebrate! Tuna salad and water slides! Woo-hoo.
Thursday dinner: Big-ass prime rib and vegetables. Score!
Friday morning: Free breakfast buffet included with waterpark package. Eggs, eggs, and more eggs, along with bacon, sausages, and ham.
Friday lunch: Cool! Waterpark has pre-packaged containers of cheese, sausage, and olives! Someone is thinking outside the box here. I got a low-carb friendly lunch!
Me: (Friday afternoon while eating cheese and sausage) F*ck!!!! It's Friday!!!!
LENT FAIL.
Have you ever done something like this? Or this:
On Sunday we were in a food market and stumbled across a whole, live lobster dinner for $13.95. I was like, HELL-O it's lobster time! As I sat at a metal counter eating my fresh, delicious lobster, I told my husband this was my replacement meat-free meal to make up for the previous week's meat transgressions. Truth be told, I've done this way more times that I care to admit. You know, you're invited to a family get-together or party on a Friday in Lent, and all that's being served is meat, so you eat the meat and then say tomorrow for dinner I'll have fish to even it all out.
But this where it all stands so far. I've given up nothing for Lent in the traditional sense. (Or have I? Let me know your thoughts on that.) I'm supposed to go on a silent retreat next weekend, but I'm not sure that's really when it's supposed to happen, and I haven't made the phone call to confirm it.
Furthermore, the thought of doing Stations of the Cross depresses me. Like I said previously on the blog, if we get to one session of the Stations, I'll be thinking I won a prize or something.
Also, I haven't taken anything on, which is my usual train of thought. You know, extra masses, extra confession, extra readings, extra something. Not inspired to do anything, and yet, feeling really guilty about all of it.
And when I feel guilt, I know things aren't going well.
I do keep turning certain things around in my head that I could do for Lent, so as not to make it a total loss. But then I find an excuse to not want to do it. Then I get upset about how lazy I am and get mired in the wallowing about how much I suck as a human being. About how I'm only giving God the tiniest of crumbs.
When I get myself really going, I turn the blame back at the Church, believing this is all a prescribed set-up. I mean, people can do things like extra prayer and fasting, etc., any time of the year they want and get results, right? Why does there HAVE to be this big to-do the same time of each year?
Other times, I tell myself this is all symptomatic of my ongoing refusal to believe that God really loves me, thereby proving that I need to do whatever it takes to grasp and hold God's love. And if that means eating meat, well, then so be it.
I know I'm writing this blog post because I don't want to write another blog post titled "Continued Sucky Lent." So, along those lines, do you ever experience similar battles during Lent? What do you do to get yourself out of the funk? And how do you deal with guilt?
Showing posts with label Elizabeth Esther. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elizabeth Esther. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Repost: Purity Rings, Quivers of Arrows, and Other Protestant Nonsense
Note: This is a re-post from my old blog, dated March 2012. I have tagged this entry with blogger Elizabeth Esther's name because I have a reason I'm re-posting this, which I'll blog more about soon. I have also included, down at the bottom, some of the better responses that were left in the commbox for this entry, which was a commbox that had over 50 comments at the time.
--------------------------------------------------
Wanting to compare notes on Catholics who are constantly open to life and don't use birth control with Protestants who are constantly open to life and don't use birth control, I recently read this book:
Turns out the book is more about the "Protestant" Patriarchy Movement than it is the Quiverfull Movement. Even so, boy, were my eyes opened!
As I've been slowly coming to realize, the conservative Catholic realm is lapping up Protestant trends and doctrines right and left, ooohhhing and aaahhing over things that sound good, but are non-Catholic in almost every regard. Not that all non-Catholic things are bad. They aren't. But it behooves me to understand why overtly non-Catholic doctrines and trends are being overly-promoted by Catholics (especially homeschool Catholics) at every turn.
A prime example is the Christian-movie-du-jour, "Courageous." I'm sure it's great and all, and I'm sure we can all appreciate a clean, Christian-themed movie. But the thing is, the movie is filled with non-Catholic beliefs and practices, including many that aren't even Biblical (if that's the yard stick you want to measure things with.)
Let's start with virginity/purity pledges made by young girls to their fathers, which is a part of this movie. Where in Catholic tradition is that? Or in the Bible? It's not. Plus, it's creepy and gross. A girl's/woman's virginity belongs to herself, or to God, or maybe to her future husband, but it certainly doesn't belong to her father. Alongside such practices come purity rings and purity balls - all concepts invented by Protestants, using literal, to-the-letter Biblical interpretations (key word here is "interpretations") as a way to monitor, preserve, and protect a young girl's purity.
What the movie "Courageous" won't tell you is that alongside these purity pledges and covenants often comes forced courtships and even, sometimes, young men paying fathers for the right to marry a daughter (i.e. transfer ownership). Most of this garbage comes from a religious organization called "Vision Forum," which from what I can tell, is ten times more dangerous, insidious, and controlling that any Regnum Christi or Legionaries of Christ group. (By the way, the ties between "Vision Forum" and the "Courageous" film are many, but sublimated, in the same way no one knows that the Legion of Christ is behind the movie "Bella" and a couple hundred other Catholic groups and organizations.)
It's like with all the Catholics wearing long skirts, etc. That's not Catholic! Oh, modesty might be Catholic. But this "uniform" of drab modesty is American Puritan at heart, and more specifically, a vestige of Calvinism.
Speaking of Calvinism, reading this book made me realize the dozens upon dozens of beliefs and attitudes carried and promulgated by so many conservative Catholics have their roots in Calvinism, rather than Catholicism. Sure, one can go into Catholic tradition and make things "fit." But it seems to me it's always a reverse process: Get ensnared or enchanted by some "good" Protestant practice and then determine that Catholicism fits in nicely with that same practice. It's rarely the case where one delves deep into the teachings and traditions of Catholicism and comes out wearing an ankle-length skirt.
And that's because Catholicism doesn't ask one to check their brain at the door and isn't Puritan. Puritanism is Protestantism, period. But for some reason, many conservative Catholics are attracted to this (usually) outwardly visible sign of purity and "rightness" and propriety, and the only place they can get this attraction fed is via a Catholic version of Protestantism. And hey, if that floats your boat, great. But don't call it Catholic because it's not.
Most of this book was about the Patriarchy Movement in Protestantism. Granted, the book was written from a very "anti" (i.e. liberal) point of view, which one has to keep in check as one reads, but overall, what I discovered was scary and oftentimes abusive. Young girls being taught to think of and sometimes even address their fathers and husbands as "lord." Whole families buying into the concept that girls shouldn't go to college, but should instead stay home serving their father until they are courted out into marriage.
Remember that Josh Harris book, "I Kissed Dating Goodbye"? Yeah, I read that too, many years ago. Well, Josh Harris and the concepts taught in that book were exposed in "Quiverfull," and none of it is Catholic. At all. What's even scarier to me is the fact that I know dozens of Catholics who think that book and the concept of courtship it espouses is the best thing since sliced bread. In response, I ask why our Catholic heritage isn't the best thing since sliced bread? Oh, yeah right, there's nothing overtly taught in our Catholic tradition about how one meets and develops a relationship with a future spouse because Catholic tradition actually honors and respects free will and individualism.
The deeper I fall into this crisis of faith I'm having [now having better worked itself out, 2/13], the better I think I'm seeing the true lines, which might be a blessing in disguise. While the TRADS (and especially the SSPX types) will preach until they're blue in the face about how "right" and "Catholic" they are, I see that besides the authentic mass they attend, there is so much about their practices that goes against true Catholicism. I understand now why people who refuse to let their kids trick-or-treat makes me flinch: The origins of shunning Halloween come from Calvinists, not Catholics. The same applies to so many other things that it makes my head spin to think of them all.
As to the Quiverfull Movement, it seems that their open to life and non-contraception stance might be correct. However, their reasons for doing so aren't the same as Catholics. Catholics follow these principles because of natural law. The Quiverfull Protestants are doing it in order to raise up a multi-generational army who will fight for restoration of God's government here on earth (it was sounding reaaallly Mormon-ish, if you want the truth.) Sort of like happy, shiny little soldiers for Christ.
Oh, and Natural Family Planning (NFP)? That's forbidden because it's contraception, didn't you know? Which is why critics of the Quiverfull Movement allege that many in the movement have made idols of large families, since the only possible way you can be serving the Lord in purity is to be having as many children as possible, no matter what level of suffering you are going through. Like I said, Catholicism doesn't ask you to check your brain, free will, or extenuating circumstances at the door. The Duggars ought to take note. (I'm not against large families. But large families aren't for everyone and Catholicism respects that.)
Even homeschooling - another prominent topic in the book - was begun in this country by Puritan-minded Calvinistic Protestants in the 1970's. Only later did Catholics jump on the bandwagon, following suit. (I'm now toying with the theory that if Catholics had stayed and fought the good fight back in the 70's/80's, trying to get Catholic schools up to snuff, maybe our Catholic schools could have been saved. Or maybe not. It's just a fleeting thought going through my head.)
See, again, modern Catholic tradition doesn't include homeschooling. Rather, being a "good" Catholic meant honoring the responsibility to put your kid in a Catholic school. Only when the Catholic schools went down the shitter did homeschooling pick up steam. Understandable. But rather than homeschool AND simultaneously try to find a solution to the problem, these Catholics abandoned ship and adapted an American Puritan notion that the family unit has Christian sovereignty - which is the notion, by the way, that drives the political Constitutional Party. Which makes me think our decision to put Alan in an "authentic" non-diocesan Catholic school is really and truly Catholic. But I digress.
I'm not against Protestants. Hardly! My kid goes to a Protestant program once a week. I once was a Protestant! What I'm simply pointing out here is that too many Catholics grab onto Protestant ideas and concepts without giving it another thought, thereby passing on non-Catholic standards that get held up as the norm, and worse, the bar for growing in holiness.
I'm keeping my eyes wide open from now on.
P.S. Head coverings aren't just an issue in orthodox Catholic circles, either. It's an issue over in the Patriarchal Protestant circles, too. Isn't that interesting? Some people are just drawn to this stuff.
P.P.S. If anyone is offended by what I've written here, I'm sorry. However, this blog is for me to explore the thoughts rolling around in my head.
--------------------------------------------------------
A few, select comments from the original post:
Don: "Modern home-schooling may not have had its beginnings in Catholic circles, but it does conform to the very Catholic principle of Subsidiarity, which states that matters should be handled at the lowest-level competent authority. IMO the parochial school concept arose out of clericalism."
Me (in response to Don): "Your comment begs the question of why most Catholics don't know (including myself, very much) what subsidiarity is and that it's a Catholic concept. But they'll buy their daughter a purity ring. See where I'm going with this?"
JMB: "One of Flannery O'Connor's biggest gripes was with the Jansenist movement which made huge in roads into the Catholic Church in the 40s and 50s. Its heart is Protestantism and that should be resisted by all Catholics. We don't need to dress a certain way, or wear a hat or wig or whatever to be worthy of redemption and salvation."
Alice: "Agree 100%. I am constantly realizing that I was basically raised in a Protestant Homechurch/school that went to the sacramental vending machine every day to get the sacraments since we couldn't make them at home. It was a cult of the home. Homebirth, homeschool, domestic church, etc. I'll be honest, I'm not convinced about the whole homeschooling subsidiarity argument because it really seems like a rehash of the Sunday School controversies of the early 19th century. The Catholic homeschooling movement seems to understand the idea of parents as primary educators of their children in a Protestant way, while the traditional Catholic way is a bit different."
Kacie: "I'm with you completely in every criticism of these various cultures within Protestantism. Clearly I'm still a Protestant, but even when I read I Kissed Dating Goodbye in highschool I didn't buy it. Thankfully I've never liked the Quiverfull movement, refuse to see Courageous, and push back against all of what you're talking about. It deserves to be pushed back against. The only thing I was a part of was having a purity ring, thought purity balls are nonsense and my chastity vow was never to my dad. I gave my ring to my husband when we married, and it was symbolic. However, I'm with you in struggling to re-work my ideas of how healthy or not the whole way we present "saving yourself for marriage" really is, and what the effects are on the marital sex life. Probably wouldn't encourage my own kid to get a chastity ring just because I feel like it places the emphasis in the wrong place."
Dual Role Grandma: "It isn't so much the purity ring itself, chosen by an individual teen or young adult. It's the whole pledging of one's virginity to one's father by young women and girls. ICK, ICK, ICK. You are so Catholicly correct when you say that whole thing reeks!!!!!! Boys don't need to keep their virginity? Girls need to pledge its safekeeping to Daddy? Patrimony! If anybody realized how anti-Catholic movies such as "Courageous" are, they would never make it to the halls of Catholic churches. Sherwood Pictures is run out of Sherwood Baptist Church. As for Josh Harris and his weirdo courtship books, I've argued them in various Catholic fora until I'm blue in the face. Those that "see no harm" are just as poorly catechized as those who still want hippie 1960s Mass where anything goes."
Laura S.: "I get it now! I was always a bit uncomfortable with those "IKDG" and other books that my mom really pushed on my sisters and I after I was in a real relationship that I had attempted to apply the principles in. It took my parents awhile to "accept" my now husband as "good enough" for me and a lot of the struggles were centered around my failure to follow that route. Do you think that any of the ToB stuff strays into the Calvinistic errors that the courtship/purity ring mindset camps out in?"
Invictus 88: "If a child wants to buy a purity ring, why not encourage them into something more grounded and meaningful? A Miraculous Medal, or a scapular, would be much better, presumably?"
Heather: "Having grown up in the culture described in your book, I know how damaging these ideas can be. It's sad that people with such a rich tradition of faith would buy into such poorly thought-out ideas. In your opinion, would you say it's more the Catholic men or women who first adopt the ideas in the family? In my experience, the families were brought in through the men, with many of the women following reluctantly. Any doubts or concerns the women had were taken to be evidence of spiritual warfare."
Beloved: "Thanks for writing this Char. Its so very true, especially with insular, extremely Rad Trad groups. They've adopted a very Protestant outlook on things."
Elizabeth: "I've just spent way too much of my Sunday afternoon reading this post and all the comments. I really think you have made some great points about puritanical attitudes from Calvinism creeping into our Catholic culture. As a Catholic homeschooler, I have to say that the peer pressure is immense to avoid activities such as trick or treating (if your kids are dressed as saints, it might be ok, but isn't ideal). Ankle length skirts and denim jumpers abound, and God forbid that you admit to reading Harry Potter. So many of the things that you mentioned are not a part of Catholic tradition and have no place in Catholic tradition"
--------------------------------------------------
Wanting to compare notes on Catholics who are constantly open to life and don't use birth control with Protestants who are constantly open to life and don't use birth control, I recently read this book:
Turns out the book is more about the "Protestant" Patriarchy Movement than it is the Quiverfull Movement. Even so, boy, were my eyes opened!
As I've been slowly coming to realize, the conservative Catholic realm is lapping up Protestant trends and doctrines right and left, ooohhhing and aaahhing over things that sound good, but are non-Catholic in almost every regard. Not that all non-Catholic things are bad. They aren't. But it behooves me to understand why overtly non-Catholic doctrines and trends are being overly-promoted by Catholics (especially homeschool Catholics) at every turn.
A prime example is the Christian-movie-du-jour, "Courageous." I'm sure it's great and all, and I'm sure we can all appreciate a clean, Christian-themed movie. But the thing is, the movie is filled with non-Catholic beliefs and practices, including many that aren't even Biblical (if that's the yard stick you want to measure things with.)
Let's start with virginity/purity pledges made by young girls to their fathers, which is a part of this movie. Where in Catholic tradition is that? Or in the Bible? It's not. Plus, it's creepy and gross. A girl's/woman's virginity belongs to herself, or to God, or maybe to her future husband, but it certainly doesn't belong to her father. Alongside such practices come purity rings and purity balls - all concepts invented by Protestants, using literal, to-the-letter Biblical interpretations (key word here is "interpretations") as a way to monitor, preserve, and protect a young girl's purity.
What the movie "Courageous" won't tell you is that alongside these purity pledges and covenants often comes forced courtships and even, sometimes, young men paying fathers for the right to marry a daughter (i.e. transfer ownership). Most of this garbage comes from a religious organization called "Vision Forum," which from what I can tell, is ten times more dangerous, insidious, and controlling that any Regnum Christi or Legionaries of Christ group. (By the way, the ties between "Vision Forum" and the "Courageous" film are many, but sublimated, in the same way no one knows that the Legion of Christ is behind the movie "Bella" and a couple hundred other Catholic groups and organizations.)
It's like with all the Catholics wearing long skirts, etc. That's not Catholic! Oh, modesty might be Catholic. But this "uniform" of drab modesty is American Puritan at heart, and more specifically, a vestige of Calvinism.
Speaking of Calvinism, reading this book made me realize the dozens upon dozens of beliefs and attitudes carried and promulgated by so many conservative Catholics have their roots in Calvinism, rather than Catholicism. Sure, one can go into Catholic tradition and make things "fit." But it seems to me it's always a reverse process: Get ensnared or enchanted by some "good" Protestant practice and then determine that Catholicism fits in nicely with that same practice. It's rarely the case where one delves deep into the teachings and traditions of Catholicism and comes out wearing an ankle-length skirt.
And that's because Catholicism doesn't ask one to check their brain at the door and isn't Puritan. Puritanism is Protestantism, period. But for some reason, many conservative Catholics are attracted to this (usually) outwardly visible sign of purity and "rightness" and propriety, and the only place they can get this attraction fed is via a Catholic version of Protestantism. And hey, if that floats your boat, great. But don't call it Catholic because it's not.
Most of this book was about the Patriarchy Movement in Protestantism. Granted, the book was written from a very "anti" (i.e. liberal) point of view, which one has to keep in check as one reads, but overall, what I discovered was scary and oftentimes abusive. Young girls being taught to think of and sometimes even address their fathers and husbands as "lord." Whole families buying into the concept that girls shouldn't go to college, but should instead stay home serving their father until they are courted out into marriage.
Remember that Josh Harris book, "I Kissed Dating Goodbye"? Yeah, I read that too, many years ago. Well, Josh Harris and the concepts taught in that book were exposed in "Quiverfull," and none of it is Catholic. At all. What's even scarier to me is the fact that I know dozens of Catholics who think that book and the concept of courtship it espouses is the best thing since sliced bread. In response, I ask why our Catholic heritage isn't the best thing since sliced bread? Oh, yeah right, there's nothing overtly taught in our Catholic tradition about how one meets and develops a relationship with a future spouse because Catholic tradition actually honors and respects free will and individualism.
The deeper I fall into this crisis of faith I'm having [now having better worked itself out, 2/13], the better I think I'm seeing the true lines, which might be a blessing in disguise. While the TRADS (and especially the SSPX types) will preach until they're blue in the face about how "right" and "Catholic" they are, I see that besides the authentic mass they attend, there is so much about their practices that goes against true Catholicism. I understand now why people who refuse to let their kids trick-or-treat makes me flinch: The origins of shunning Halloween come from Calvinists, not Catholics. The same applies to so many other things that it makes my head spin to think of them all.
As to the Quiverfull Movement, it seems that their open to life and non-contraception stance might be correct. However, their reasons for doing so aren't the same as Catholics. Catholics follow these principles because of natural law. The Quiverfull Protestants are doing it in order to raise up a multi-generational army who will fight for restoration of God's government here on earth (it was sounding reaaallly Mormon-ish, if you want the truth.) Sort of like happy, shiny little soldiers for Christ.
Oh, and Natural Family Planning (NFP)? That's forbidden because it's contraception, didn't you know? Which is why critics of the Quiverfull Movement allege that many in the movement have made idols of large families, since the only possible way you can be serving the Lord in purity is to be having as many children as possible, no matter what level of suffering you are going through. Like I said, Catholicism doesn't ask you to check your brain, free will, or extenuating circumstances at the door. The Duggars ought to take note. (I'm not against large families. But large families aren't for everyone and Catholicism respects that.)
Even homeschooling - another prominent topic in the book - was begun in this country by Puritan-minded Calvinistic Protestants in the 1970's. Only later did Catholics jump on the bandwagon, following suit. (I'm now toying with the theory that if Catholics had stayed and fought the good fight back in the 70's/80's, trying to get Catholic schools up to snuff, maybe our Catholic schools could have been saved. Or maybe not. It's just a fleeting thought going through my head.)
See, again, modern Catholic tradition doesn't include homeschooling. Rather, being a "good" Catholic meant honoring the responsibility to put your kid in a Catholic school. Only when the Catholic schools went down the shitter did homeschooling pick up steam. Understandable. But rather than homeschool AND simultaneously try to find a solution to the problem, these Catholics abandoned ship and adapted an American Puritan notion that the family unit has Christian sovereignty - which is the notion, by the way, that drives the political Constitutional Party. Which makes me think our decision to put Alan in an "authentic" non-diocesan Catholic school is really and truly Catholic. But I digress.
I'm not against Protestants. Hardly! My kid goes to a Protestant program once a week. I once was a Protestant! What I'm simply pointing out here is that too many Catholics grab onto Protestant ideas and concepts without giving it another thought, thereby passing on non-Catholic standards that get held up as the norm, and worse, the bar for growing in holiness.
I'm keeping my eyes wide open from now on.
P.S. Head coverings aren't just an issue in orthodox Catholic circles, either. It's an issue over in the Patriarchal Protestant circles, too. Isn't that interesting? Some people are just drawn to this stuff.
P.P.S. If anyone is offended by what I've written here, I'm sorry. However, this blog is for me to explore the thoughts rolling around in my head.
--------------------------------------------------------
A few, select comments from the original post:
Don: "Modern home-schooling may not have had its beginnings in Catholic circles, but it does conform to the very Catholic principle of Subsidiarity, which states that matters should be handled at the lowest-level competent authority. IMO the parochial school concept arose out of clericalism."
Me (in response to Don): "Your comment begs the question of why most Catholics don't know (including myself, very much) what subsidiarity is and that it's a Catholic concept. But they'll buy their daughter a purity ring. See where I'm going with this?"
JMB: "One of Flannery O'Connor's biggest gripes was with the Jansenist movement which made huge in roads into the Catholic Church in the 40s and 50s. Its heart is Protestantism and that should be resisted by all Catholics. We don't need to dress a certain way, or wear a hat or wig or whatever to be worthy of redemption and salvation."
Alice: "Agree 100%. I am constantly realizing that I was basically raised in a Protestant Homechurch/school that went to the sacramental vending machine every day to get the sacraments since we couldn't make them at home. It was a cult of the home. Homebirth, homeschool, domestic church, etc. I'll be honest, I'm not convinced about the whole homeschooling subsidiarity argument because it really seems like a rehash of the Sunday School controversies of the early 19th century. The Catholic homeschooling movement seems to understand the idea of parents as primary educators of their children in a Protestant way, while the traditional Catholic way is a bit different."
Kacie: "I'm with you completely in every criticism of these various cultures within Protestantism. Clearly I'm still a Protestant, but even when I read I Kissed Dating Goodbye in highschool I didn't buy it. Thankfully I've never liked the Quiverfull movement, refuse to see Courageous, and push back against all of what you're talking about. It deserves to be pushed back against. The only thing I was a part of was having a purity ring, thought purity balls are nonsense and my chastity vow was never to my dad. I gave my ring to my husband when we married, and it was symbolic. However, I'm with you in struggling to re-work my ideas of how healthy or not the whole way we present "saving yourself for marriage" really is, and what the effects are on the marital sex life. Probably wouldn't encourage my own kid to get a chastity ring just because I feel like it places the emphasis in the wrong place."
Dual Role Grandma: "It isn't so much the purity ring itself, chosen by an individual teen or young adult. It's the whole pledging of one's virginity to one's father by young women and girls. ICK, ICK, ICK. You are so Catholicly correct when you say that whole thing reeks!!!!!! Boys don't need to keep their virginity? Girls need to pledge its safekeeping to Daddy? Patrimony! If anybody realized how anti-Catholic movies such as "Courageous" are, they would never make it to the halls of Catholic churches. Sherwood Pictures is run out of Sherwood Baptist Church. As for Josh Harris and his weirdo courtship books, I've argued them in various Catholic fora until I'm blue in the face. Those that "see no harm" are just as poorly catechized as those who still want hippie 1960s Mass where anything goes."
Laura S.: "I get it now! I was always a bit uncomfortable with those "IKDG" and other books that my mom really pushed on my sisters and I after I was in a real relationship that I had attempted to apply the principles in. It took my parents awhile to "accept" my now husband as "good enough" for me and a lot of the struggles were centered around my failure to follow that route. Do you think that any of the ToB stuff strays into the Calvinistic errors that the courtship/purity ring mindset camps out in?"
Invictus 88: "If a child wants to buy a purity ring, why not encourage them into something more grounded and meaningful? A Miraculous Medal, or a scapular, would be much better, presumably?"
Heather: "Having grown up in the culture described in your book, I know how damaging these ideas can be. It's sad that people with such a rich tradition of faith would buy into such poorly thought-out ideas. In your opinion, would you say it's more the Catholic men or women who first adopt the ideas in the family? In my experience, the families were brought in through the men, with many of the women following reluctantly. Any doubts or concerns the women had were taken to be evidence of spiritual warfare."
Beloved: "Thanks for writing this Char. Its so very true, especially with insular, extremely Rad Trad groups. They've adopted a very Protestant outlook on things."
Elizabeth: "I've just spent way too much of my Sunday afternoon reading this post and all the comments. I really think you have made some great points about puritanical attitudes from Calvinism creeping into our Catholic culture. As a Catholic homeschooler, I have to say that the peer pressure is immense to avoid activities such as trick or treating (if your kids are dressed as saints, it might be ok, but isn't ideal). Ankle length skirts and denim jumpers abound, and God forbid that you admit to reading Harry Potter. So many of the things that you mentioned are not a part of Catholic tradition and have no place in Catholic tradition"
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Answers To At Least Ten Or More Questions
1. How's it going with Alan and school? Alan's adjustment; the school
itself; your reaction to the change in your day; your interactions with
those you've met through the school etc. (Maureen)
Alan is doing spectacularly well at his non-diocesan, independent/private Catholic school. In October he was already reading (without pictures and pictograms), and each week he has a spelling test consisting of about 9-10 three-letter words and he has scored 100% on all of them. All of his math tests have scored at 100%. He asks many questions about what he learns about his Catholic faith and/or talks to us about it quite often. I attribute this success to: A.) A small classroom with only 5 children, B.) A fantastic teacher, C.) The use of primarily old-school curriculum, most of it originating from home school sources (Little Angel Reader, Saxon Math, etc.), and D.) A learning environment that is focused on the academic in a happy, cheerful, and age-appropriate manner without lowering the standard to "everything has to be fun all day, all the time!"
That being said, Alan is probably the liveliest, most talkative child in the class, and we need to work on that a bit. Not that he doesn't have one or two "contemporaries" who feed off of him and one another. The fact that he is the sole only-child in the school, coming from a rather loud, free, and expressive family likely explains this situation.
As for me, I generally stay at the school everyday, since we have a 70 mile round trip each day to the school. Given that Alan attends half-day kindergarten (the only one in the metro Milwaukee area?), it just makes sense. I run the milk program and work on various tasks or projects, as needed. Often times I sit and work on cross-stitch. I have been a substitute teacher a handful of times, which I've loved. Occasionally, like today, I take a break and sit in a local coffee shop and blog or work on my own stuff. Granted, I could do that at the school, but sometimes a person just needs a change of scenery.
Each day at this school is a struggle and a blessing. Despite the fact that I am a morning person, waking up at 5:30 a.m. every day sucks. I get up and get myself ready before I rouse Alan and my husband, and I'm screaming out here, "I'M TIRED!!!." We leave the house at 6:50 each morning. Still, each day, as I drive into downtown Milwaukee, I can see the sun rise above Lake Michigan, and it never ceases to inspire me.
The good news is that every single person at the school, and I do mean every single person at this tiny school, is a joy to be around in one way or another each and every day. Almost five months in, I have yet to see a single instance of back-biting, negative gossip, or uncharitability. Everyone is cheerful, inviting, and caring. As a result, Char here has to work overtime to be the same in return, and I AM EXHAUSTED!!! It is HARD WORK being a Christian! I literally come home spent and in need of sleep because I am trying so hard to act in accordance and reciprocity of the example set before me. Not that I want to behave in a contrary manner, and not that the school necessarily demands such behavior. It's just so real and authentic that there's no other way in which to respond but to respond in like.
I directly attribute a large portion of the reason I have returned to the sacraments to the fact that the employees and families of this school have set an example that brings me FINALLY to the hope I have for a normal Catholic community/experience. Unfortunately, after 18 years, the school is at risk of closing next year, which I'll talk about some other time.
2. Did you get to know the family across the road? (Amethyst)
This question is referring to the Lutheran home school family that now lives kitty-corner across the street from us. It has been a slow process, but yes, we have gotten to know them somewhat better. That being said, I have yet to meet the father, who works multiple jobs with odd hours. Alan plays over there maybe once every two weeks, and once in awhile, the Mom and I get to chit-chat. I admit that I'm always wondering if deep down they think we're heathens because we're Catholic, but I try to quiet that voice and go with the flow. They are the kind of homeschoolers where the home school has taken over the house, as opposed to the sorts of families who confine homeschooling to a designated area or room in their home. So when I visit, it's always interesting to see what the kids are working on.
3. Do you have a favorite saint and/or devotion? (Kasclar)
Not yet. I don't know enough about enough saints to answer. I feel good vibes towards Saint Jude and Saint Mary Magdalene (and not for freaky/goofy/liberal reasons!) Recently, I have reason to attempt a devotion to the Infant of Prague. I'm interested in most things Mary. I wish I would spend more time on the Divine Mercy devotion. Finally, our family is getting more and more "into" the Schoenstatt movement, which I do plan to blog about in the future.
4. Were you mad at the Church recently? (Angela)
Um, yes. I still am a little mad. The good news is that I've realized I can compartmentalize my anger over one or two very specific issues while at the same time continue to be a practicing Catholic and partake in the sacraments, which should (theoretically) help heal the remaining open wounds I have. For a long time, I couldn't see that and didn't want to see that. Though I mentioned it a handful of times on Cheeky Pink Girl, none of you know how many, many, many, many times I missed mass on purpose; months upon months upon months. I figured that if the main attraction for me was the Eucharist, and I couldn't partake in it, then why bother going? And besides, I wasn't interested in seeing any smug, self-righteous Catholics who hurt me just by their very existence.
Back this past summer, I contacted blogger Mark Shea, since I kept longing to talk about my issues with someone I actually believed was normal, intelligent, empathetic, and non-judgemental. He was all I could come up with in that category, which is a direct testament to his writing. I believed that what I saw in print was what I would get one-on-one, and I wasn't disappointed. He actually had me call him at home one night, and we were on the phone for about 2-3 hours. It was amazing how fast he honed in on the issues and made his diagnosis. (Granted, I only shared with him ONE of my issues - the other issue, well, I still don't know where to go and what to do about it.)
Basically, Mark said I HAVE to forgive all the Catholics who have hurt me. I DID NOT want to hear this. He also suggested that the enemy, Satan, was attacking me, which also made me flinch. On the one hand, it was great to have someone laugh with me about all the crazy, conspiracy theory, uber-judgemental bullshit that one experiences both in the Catholic blogosphere and in real-life orthodox/TRAD circles. But still, at some point he had to shut down my comedy act and remind me that no matter how mean and misguided some of these people might be, they are fellow human beings, fellow Catholics, fellow Christians. He made me understand that until I forgave them - including the nameless, faceless, anonymous troll types, I was dead in the mud.
I sat on this advice for a long time, not wanting to give up the ghost. At other times, I thought about it quite a bit. Sometimes I would move toward finally going back to confession and having a desire to confess all this anger. But every time I got close, something would happen to screw it all up. I vividly recall one such incident: We were at mass at a local basilica that is situated in an idyllic, natural setting. It was a beautiful fall day and for once I was open to going to mass. As soon as our family got situated in our pew, I looked up to see a father come in with a train of about six children. Most of the children were girls, and all of them (including a little girl who had to be about 2-3 years old), were wearing frumpy skirts down to their ankles. Right away I knew they were part of the "Modesty Squad" and I became instantly enraged. To my mind and tastes, these girls looked ridiculous. And for the rest of mass, all I could think about was how wrong this family was, how stupid I thought they looked, and how this is not the way to produce relevant Catholics who will make a difference in the world. At the same time, I kept telling myself things like, "Shut up, Char, what's it to you?" or "They have one way of being Catholic, you have another, and if it's real to them, what business is it of yours?" Of course, this family was sitting in plain view the entire mass. I literally spent large portions of the mass staring down at the wood in the pew, trying to force myself to not even catch sight of them. It was stuff like this - or an occasional peak onto Father's Z's blog, etc. - that would stop me in my tracks and keep me grounded in my anger.
At one point, I had a theme song for my anger. I showcase it here because if you listen to the lyrics, you will see how low I had gotten. The song is full of Catholic reference and the video, disturbingly so?, Catholic imagery. (Note: I still think this is a beautiful, insightful song, despite the heretical aspects of it. I expect aesthetes and artists to "get it." And yes, I know what Morrissey is referring to in this song, but I appropriated it for my own use.)
"I HAVE FORGIVEN JESUS" by Morrissey
I was a good kid
I wouldn't do you no harm
I was a nice kid
With a nice paper round
Forgive me any pain
I may have brung to you
With God's help I know
I'll always be near to you
But Jesus hurt me
When he deserted me, but
I have forgiven Jesus
For all the desire
He placed in me when there's nothing I can do
With this desire
I was a good kid
Through hail and snow I'd go
Just to moon you
I carried my heart in my hand
Do you understand?
Do you understand?
But Jesus hurt me
When he deserted me, but
I have forgiven Jesus
For all of the love
He placed in me
When there's no-one I can turn to with this love
Monday - humiliation
Tuesday - suffocation
Wednesday - condescension
Thursday - is pathetic
By Friday life has killed me
By Friday life has killed me
(Oh pretty one, Oh pretty one)
Why did you give me
So much desire?
When there is nowhere I can go
To offload this desire
And why did you give me
So much love
In a loveless world
When there's no one I can turn to
To unlock all this love
And why did you stick me in
Self-deprecating bones and skin
Jesus - do you hate me?
Why did you stick me in
Self-deprecating bones and skin
Do you hate me? do you hate me?
Do you hate me? do you hate me?
Do you hate me?
If any of you are still with me after that, thanks. Like I said, that was the lowest, angriest point.
So anyway, Mark Shea helped me, the school helped me, and the prayers of my husband helped me. Right before Christmas, I went to confession after 22 months, and then joyfully, back to communion. Which resulted in me promptly returning to a scrupulous mindset, which is yet another issue for another time.
I still struggle with anger towards other Catholics. How could I not? I'm still me. I still have very strong opinions about the Catholic faith and how it's practiced. I will obviously continue to blog about this stuff, which is why many liked my first blog and why many wanted me to continue blogging. But this time around, in some way, shape, or form, I desire (please help me Holy Spirit) to do it in a way that is not only "me," but also a tad thoughtful, as well.
5. Has the drama at [bleep bleep siren we interrupt this sentence to not specifically go there] died down? (KNelson)
Dear Mr. Nelson, this past fall it got decidedly worse. For obvious reasons, I can't discuss it here. If you or anyone else wants to know, just email me. You, of all people, Mr. Nelson, would be very interested in the next chapter. At the current time, things are calm for all involved.
6. Will we every hear you sing? (Kerri)
What an odd, interesting question! Answer: Probably not. I don't like to sing in public unless it's a professionally rehearsed scenario, like a wedding. That hasn't happened in a long time.
I don't sing in church choirs because, regrettably, I don't like to sing church music. I would rather be in a choir that sings show tunes, etc.
There are old videos of me singing in high school, on videotape (VCR). If they ever get transferred to some digital format, I'll consider posting one.
6. Is the cigar smoking trad-ish priest still at your parish? (Alice)
No. He got moved to a parish one town south of us. We still hang out with him recreationally, going out to eat or having drinks with him at the rectory where he lives. Fittingly, we gave him cigars for Christmas.
When Alan had surgery at Children's Hospital in December, the traddy-ish priest did the pre-surgery blessing/anointing. He was also at our home until after 11 p.m. on the Epiphany, blessing our house and shooting the shit with us. Sometimes we go to mass at his parish.
He is very traditional (without having bailed to the Latin mass side, although I always wonder if he secretly wants to), and we enjoy the free (very free) exchange of ideas and Catholic happenings with him.
7. Every now and then, I read a news story about something very cool that someone has done or is doing - something that makes me sit up and thank God for making my fellow human beings so brilliant or loving or insightful. Have you read such a story lately, and if so would you care to share your thoughts on it? (John Henry)
I read a lot of books. If my week is going the way I want it, I will read from start to finish one to three books. Not every week is like that.
But in answer to your question, have I lately read anything like that? No. Not unless you want to thank God for the gift of excellent writers, in general, who make reading a good book possible.
However, just the other day, I discovered the program called America Unearthed on the History Channel 2. Being an archaeology junkie, this was right up my alley. And the premise of the show, that much of the learned history that we subscribe to is wrong, was like a premise after my own heart. It didn't hurt that the first episode I saw had to do with copper mining in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, which is a pet subject of mine in conjunction with my family's genealogy.
By the way, I do have to mention, in conjunction with Question #4 above, that blogger Mark Shea makes me thank God for the great human beings He created. And I think I'll add blogger Elizabeth Esther to that list, too.
8. Did you enjoy the latest Hobbit movie? (Priest's Wife)
Didn't see it and didn't want to. I am allergic to anything elves-goblins-Renaissance-Harry Potter-wizards-dungeons-spells, etc. I consider The Hobbit as part of that category. Although that being said, whenever it was a few years ago, I did go see "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe."
By the way, my husband loves anything C.S. Lewis and Tolkien. I understand why both authors are important to Catholic thought, so I'm not stupid enough to deprive my child of those authors when the time comes around. If the school he's at stays open, he will be reading plenty of both.
Another reason I probably wouldn't see The Hobbit is because if everybody is doing it or seeing it, my automatic knee-jerk reaction is to avoid it like the plague. If it seems like it's part of the Rite of Being a Good Catholic, I usually want no part of it, unless it's an organic development that makes sense. Case in point: "Bella" and "The Passion of the Christ." Have seen neither, and both are physically in my home. With "Passion of the Christ," it's because I can barely handle the sanitized 1960's movie versions of the crucifixion, so I know I won't deal well with an intensely graphic one. With "Bella," I want to be free of everybody's gratuitous gushing about how great it is and evaluate the movie on its own merits, but just haven't gotten around to it.
9. How did you choose the new blog name? (Maureen)
I thought a lot about how the teachers and families at Alan's school appeared to be good, holy, and well-meaning Catholics without living in a bubble. Granted, outside secular folks probably think the school and the practices of the families that go there are oppressively bubble-ish, but for people like me who search for the middle ground within Catholic orthodoxy, it was immediately obvious that something was different about the school, and it intrigued me and continues to intrigue me. And then I got to thinking about the reality/truth (at least I hope so, it remains to be seen) that a person can, in fact, be a decent, holy Catholic without living in a bubble or subscribing to bubble-ish notions. I decided that I wanted a major theme of the blog to be "popping" bubble thinking, and conversely, examining whether or not certain Catholic beliefs and practices might actually be aspects of bubble living without our recognizing it?
The "such a pretty" part of the name likely comes from a deep subconscious suspicion of anything that smacks of perfectionism. There's probably some mean part of me that relishes the idea of popping Catholic bubbles.
10. Do you know how glad I am to see you return? (Sherry)
No, I didn't, but thanks! It's nice to hear.
It was also nice to know I'm still held in some sort of esteem by people with actual brains, such as Erin Manning.
As a favor, if YOU think I have any sort of brain cells firing correctly, would you mind adding me to your blog role or doing a tiny little post like Erin did? I'd really, really appreciate it.
Whew! I've been writing for almost three hours! It's almost time to pick Alan up!
Alan is doing spectacularly well at his non-diocesan, independent/private Catholic school. In October he was already reading (without pictures and pictograms), and each week he has a spelling test consisting of about 9-10 three-letter words and he has scored 100% on all of them. All of his math tests have scored at 100%. He asks many questions about what he learns about his Catholic faith and/or talks to us about it quite often. I attribute this success to: A.) A small classroom with only 5 children, B.) A fantastic teacher, C.) The use of primarily old-school curriculum, most of it originating from home school sources (Little Angel Reader, Saxon Math, etc.), and D.) A learning environment that is focused on the academic in a happy, cheerful, and age-appropriate manner without lowering the standard to "everything has to be fun all day, all the time!"
That being said, Alan is probably the liveliest, most talkative child in the class, and we need to work on that a bit. Not that he doesn't have one or two "contemporaries" who feed off of him and one another. The fact that he is the sole only-child in the school, coming from a rather loud, free, and expressive family likely explains this situation.
As for me, I generally stay at the school everyday, since we have a 70 mile round trip each day to the school. Given that Alan attends half-day kindergarten (the only one in the metro Milwaukee area?), it just makes sense. I run the milk program and work on various tasks or projects, as needed. Often times I sit and work on cross-stitch. I have been a substitute teacher a handful of times, which I've loved. Occasionally, like today, I take a break and sit in a local coffee shop and blog or work on my own stuff. Granted, I could do that at the school, but sometimes a person just needs a change of scenery.
Each day at this school is a struggle and a blessing. Despite the fact that I am a morning person, waking up at 5:30 a.m. every day sucks. I get up and get myself ready before I rouse Alan and my husband, and I'm screaming out here, "I'M TIRED!!!." We leave the house at 6:50 each morning. Still, each day, as I drive into downtown Milwaukee, I can see the sun rise above Lake Michigan, and it never ceases to inspire me.
The good news is that every single person at the school, and I do mean every single person at this tiny school, is a joy to be around in one way or another each and every day. Almost five months in, I have yet to see a single instance of back-biting, negative gossip, or uncharitability. Everyone is cheerful, inviting, and caring. As a result, Char here has to work overtime to be the same in return, and I AM EXHAUSTED!!! It is HARD WORK being a Christian! I literally come home spent and in need of sleep because I am trying so hard to act in accordance and reciprocity of the example set before me. Not that I want to behave in a contrary manner, and not that the school necessarily demands such behavior. It's just so real and authentic that there's no other way in which to respond but to respond in like.
I directly attribute a large portion of the reason I have returned to the sacraments to the fact that the employees and families of this school have set an example that brings me FINALLY to the hope I have for a normal Catholic community/experience. Unfortunately, after 18 years, the school is at risk of closing next year, which I'll talk about some other time.
2. Did you get to know the family across the road? (Amethyst)
This question is referring to the Lutheran home school family that now lives kitty-corner across the street from us. It has been a slow process, but yes, we have gotten to know them somewhat better. That being said, I have yet to meet the father, who works multiple jobs with odd hours. Alan plays over there maybe once every two weeks, and once in awhile, the Mom and I get to chit-chat. I admit that I'm always wondering if deep down they think we're heathens because we're Catholic, but I try to quiet that voice and go with the flow. They are the kind of homeschoolers where the home school has taken over the house, as opposed to the sorts of families who confine homeschooling to a designated area or room in their home. So when I visit, it's always interesting to see what the kids are working on.
3. Do you have a favorite saint and/or devotion? (Kasclar)
Not yet. I don't know enough about enough saints to answer. I feel good vibes towards Saint Jude and Saint Mary Magdalene (and not for freaky/goofy/liberal reasons!) Recently, I have reason to attempt a devotion to the Infant of Prague. I'm interested in most things Mary. I wish I would spend more time on the Divine Mercy devotion. Finally, our family is getting more and more "into" the Schoenstatt movement, which I do plan to blog about in the future.
4. Were you mad at the Church recently? (Angela)
Um, yes. I still am a little mad. The good news is that I've realized I can compartmentalize my anger over one or two very specific issues while at the same time continue to be a practicing Catholic and partake in the sacraments, which should (theoretically) help heal the remaining open wounds I have. For a long time, I couldn't see that and didn't want to see that. Though I mentioned it a handful of times on Cheeky Pink Girl, none of you know how many, many, many, many times I missed mass on purpose; months upon months upon months. I figured that if the main attraction for me was the Eucharist, and I couldn't partake in it, then why bother going? And besides, I wasn't interested in seeing any smug, self-righteous Catholics who hurt me just by their very existence.
Back this past summer, I contacted blogger Mark Shea, since I kept longing to talk about my issues with someone I actually believed was normal, intelligent, empathetic, and non-judgemental. He was all I could come up with in that category, which is a direct testament to his writing. I believed that what I saw in print was what I would get one-on-one, and I wasn't disappointed. He actually had me call him at home one night, and we were on the phone for about 2-3 hours. It was amazing how fast he honed in on the issues and made his diagnosis. (Granted, I only shared with him ONE of my issues - the other issue, well, I still don't know where to go and what to do about it.)
Basically, Mark said I HAVE to forgive all the Catholics who have hurt me. I DID NOT want to hear this. He also suggested that the enemy, Satan, was attacking me, which also made me flinch. On the one hand, it was great to have someone laugh with me about all the crazy, conspiracy theory, uber-judgemental bullshit that one experiences both in the Catholic blogosphere and in real-life orthodox/TRAD circles. But still, at some point he had to shut down my comedy act and remind me that no matter how mean and misguided some of these people might be, they are fellow human beings, fellow Catholics, fellow Christians. He made me understand that until I forgave them - including the nameless, faceless, anonymous troll types, I was dead in the mud.
I sat on this advice for a long time, not wanting to give up the ghost. At other times, I thought about it quite a bit. Sometimes I would move toward finally going back to confession and having a desire to confess all this anger. But every time I got close, something would happen to screw it all up. I vividly recall one such incident: We were at mass at a local basilica that is situated in an idyllic, natural setting. It was a beautiful fall day and for once I was open to going to mass. As soon as our family got situated in our pew, I looked up to see a father come in with a train of about six children. Most of the children were girls, and all of them (including a little girl who had to be about 2-3 years old), were wearing frumpy skirts down to their ankles. Right away I knew they were part of the "Modesty Squad" and I became instantly enraged. To my mind and tastes, these girls looked ridiculous. And for the rest of mass, all I could think about was how wrong this family was, how stupid I thought they looked, and how this is not the way to produce relevant Catholics who will make a difference in the world. At the same time, I kept telling myself things like, "Shut up, Char, what's it to you?" or "They have one way of being Catholic, you have another, and if it's real to them, what business is it of yours?" Of course, this family was sitting in plain view the entire mass. I literally spent large portions of the mass staring down at the wood in the pew, trying to force myself to not even catch sight of them. It was stuff like this - or an occasional peak onto Father's Z's blog, etc. - that would stop me in my tracks and keep me grounded in my anger.
At one point, I had a theme song for my anger. I showcase it here because if you listen to the lyrics, you will see how low I had gotten. The song is full of Catholic reference and the video, disturbingly so?, Catholic imagery. (Note: I still think this is a beautiful, insightful song, despite the heretical aspects of it. I expect aesthetes and artists to "get it." And yes, I know what Morrissey is referring to in this song, but I appropriated it for my own use.)
"I HAVE FORGIVEN JESUS" by Morrissey
I was a good kid
I wouldn't do you no harm
I was a nice kid
With a nice paper round
Forgive me any pain
I may have brung to you
With God's help I know
I'll always be near to you
But Jesus hurt me
When he deserted me, but
I have forgiven Jesus
For all the desire
He placed in me when there's nothing I can do
With this desire
I was a good kid
Through hail and snow I'd go
Just to moon you
I carried my heart in my hand
Do you understand?
Do you understand?
But Jesus hurt me
When he deserted me, but
I have forgiven Jesus
For all of the love
He placed in me
When there's no-one I can turn to with this love
Monday - humiliation
Tuesday - suffocation
Wednesday - condescension
Thursday - is pathetic
By Friday life has killed me
By Friday life has killed me
(Oh pretty one, Oh pretty one)
Why did you give me
So much desire?
When there is nowhere I can go
To offload this desire
And why did you give me
So much love
In a loveless world
When there's no one I can turn to
To unlock all this love
And why did you stick me in
Self-deprecating bones and skin
Jesus - do you hate me?
Why did you stick me in
Self-deprecating bones and skin
Do you hate me? do you hate me?
Do you hate me? do you hate me?
Do you hate me?
If any of you are still with me after that, thanks. Like I said, that was the lowest, angriest point.
So anyway, Mark Shea helped me, the school helped me, and the prayers of my husband helped me. Right before Christmas, I went to confession after 22 months, and then joyfully, back to communion. Which resulted in me promptly returning to a scrupulous mindset, which is yet another issue for another time.
I still struggle with anger towards other Catholics. How could I not? I'm still me. I still have very strong opinions about the Catholic faith and how it's practiced. I will obviously continue to blog about this stuff, which is why many liked my first blog and why many wanted me to continue blogging. But this time around, in some way, shape, or form, I desire (please help me Holy Spirit) to do it in a way that is not only "me," but also a tad thoughtful, as well.
5. Has the drama at [bleep bleep siren we interrupt this sentence to not specifically go there] died down? (KNelson)
Dear Mr. Nelson, this past fall it got decidedly worse. For obvious reasons, I can't discuss it here. If you or anyone else wants to know, just email me. You, of all people, Mr. Nelson, would be very interested in the next chapter. At the current time, things are calm for all involved.
6. Will we every hear you sing? (Kerri)
What an odd, interesting question! Answer: Probably not. I don't like to sing in public unless it's a professionally rehearsed scenario, like a wedding. That hasn't happened in a long time.
I don't sing in church choirs because, regrettably, I don't like to sing church music. I would rather be in a choir that sings show tunes, etc.
There are old videos of me singing in high school, on videotape (VCR). If they ever get transferred to some digital format, I'll consider posting one.
6. Is the cigar smoking trad-ish priest still at your parish? (Alice)
No. He got moved to a parish one town south of us. We still hang out with him recreationally, going out to eat or having drinks with him at the rectory where he lives. Fittingly, we gave him cigars for Christmas.
When Alan had surgery at Children's Hospital in December, the traddy-ish priest did the pre-surgery blessing/anointing. He was also at our home until after 11 p.m. on the Epiphany, blessing our house and shooting the shit with us. Sometimes we go to mass at his parish.
He is very traditional (without having bailed to the Latin mass side, although I always wonder if he secretly wants to), and we enjoy the free (very free) exchange of ideas and Catholic happenings with him.
7. Every now and then, I read a news story about something very cool that someone has done or is doing - something that makes me sit up and thank God for making my fellow human beings so brilliant or loving or insightful. Have you read such a story lately, and if so would you care to share your thoughts on it? (John Henry)
I read a lot of books. If my week is going the way I want it, I will read from start to finish one to three books. Not every week is like that.
But in answer to your question, have I lately read anything like that? No. Not unless you want to thank God for the gift of excellent writers, in general, who make reading a good book possible.
However, just the other day, I discovered the program called America Unearthed on the History Channel 2. Being an archaeology junkie, this was right up my alley. And the premise of the show, that much of the learned history that we subscribe to is wrong, was like a premise after my own heart. It didn't hurt that the first episode I saw had to do with copper mining in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, which is a pet subject of mine in conjunction with my family's genealogy.
By the way, I do have to mention, in conjunction with Question #4 above, that blogger Mark Shea makes me thank God for the great human beings He created. And I think I'll add blogger Elizabeth Esther to that list, too.
8. Did you enjoy the latest Hobbit movie? (Priest's Wife)
Didn't see it and didn't want to. I am allergic to anything elves-goblins-Renaissance-Harry Potter-wizards-dungeons-spells, etc. I consider The Hobbit as part of that category. Although that being said, whenever it was a few years ago, I did go see "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe."
By the way, my husband loves anything C.S. Lewis and Tolkien. I understand why both authors are important to Catholic thought, so I'm not stupid enough to deprive my child of those authors when the time comes around. If the school he's at stays open, he will be reading plenty of both.
Another reason I probably wouldn't see The Hobbit is because if everybody is doing it or seeing it, my automatic knee-jerk reaction is to avoid it like the plague. If it seems like it's part of the Rite of Being a Good Catholic, I usually want no part of it, unless it's an organic development that makes sense. Case in point: "Bella" and "The Passion of the Christ." Have seen neither, and both are physically in my home. With "Passion of the Christ," it's because I can barely handle the sanitized 1960's movie versions of the crucifixion, so I know I won't deal well with an intensely graphic one. With "Bella," I want to be free of everybody's gratuitous gushing about how great it is and evaluate the movie on its own merits, but just haven't gotten around to it.
9. How did you choose the new blog name? (Maureen)
I thought a lot about how the teachers and families at Alan's school appeared to be good, holy, and well-meaning Catholics without living in a bubble. Granted, outside secular folks probably think the school and the practices of the families that go there are oppressively bubble-ish, but for people like me who search for the middle ground within Catholic orthodoxy, it was immediately obvious that something was different about the school, and it intrigued me and continues to intrigue me. And then I got to thinking about the reality/truth (at least I hope so, it remains to be seen) that a person can, in fact, be a decent, holy Catholic without living in a bubble or subscribing to bubble-ish notions. I decided that I wanted a major theme of the blog to be "popping" bubble thinking, and conversely, examining whether or not certain Catholic beliefs and practices might actually be aspects of bubble living without our recognizing it?
The "such a pretty" part of the name likely comes from a deep subconscious suspicion of anything that smacks of perfectionism. There's probably some mean part of me that relishes the idea of popping Catholic bubbles.
10. Do you know how glad I am to see you return? (Sherry)
No, I didn't, but thanks! It's nice to hear.
It was also nice to know I'm still held in some sort of esteem by people with actual brains, such as Erin Manning.
As a favor, if YOU think I have any sort of brain cells firing correctly, would you mind adding me to your blog role or doing a tiny little post like Erin did? I'd really, really appreciate it.
Whew! I've been writing for almost three hours! It's almost time to pick Alan up!
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