Bishop D’Arcy and Doctor Glendon are boycotting Notre Dame’s commencement. With Glendon’s rejection of the Laetare Award, who will accept it? The award is intended for a Catholic whose “genius…illustrates Catholic ideals,” but anyone who shares Glendon’s loyalty to the bishops and protectiveness of unborn life will have to reject it. They will have to choose someone who is either pro-choice or so soft on the issue as to be tolerant of legal abortion. Is this illustrative of Catholic moral ideals?
What would I do if my daughter was graduating this year from Notre Dame?
Would I attend, listen politely and applaud as President Obama receives his award? No, I could not do that as I would be complicit in defiance of the bishop’s clear instruction and implicitly validating his abortion agenda.
Would I boycott or picket? Would I stand throughout his address with my back turned to him in protest? Would I join others in a few rousing stanzas of “We love babies; Yes we do; we love babies; How about you?” or chant with Dr. Seuss “A person is a person, no matter how small!” These actions are objectionable as they would spoil the joyous occasion and be uncivil and disrespectful to the President whom I respect as our leader and a decent person.
What if my daughter were this year’s valedictorian? Would she decline the honor rather than defy the bishops? Would she use the occasion to mount an attack on the culture of death and thereby openly condemn our President’s policy? Would the Notre Dame censors allow such an open challenge? Is commencement the proper situation for such Culture War bloodletting?
Notre Dame has done an injustice to all Catholics who respect Church authority and who cherish unborn human life. The parents and students are facing an unfair choice: to peacefully attend the commencement is to honor the abortion agenda and defy the bishop’s direction; but to do otherwise is to spoil what should be a joyous occasion.
Father Jenkins, along with usual cohort of liberal Jesuit colleges who are honoring abortion advocates, will bask in a self-righteous aura of diversity and tolerance as he implements what then-Cardinal Ratzinger called the “dictatorship of relativism.”
President Obama would save the Notre Dame family from intensified disgrace and polarization were he to graciously find a reason to miss the commencement.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Torture
The form of torture is self-evident: the application of unbearable physical /psychic pain and/or the threat of such for malicious or instrumental purposes (such as gaining information).
The Catholic view of the dignity of the human person and the sanctity of the body absolutely forbids torture.
Waterboarding, which I take to be simulated drowning, is obviously torture: recall your feeling as a 8-year old when the 11 year-old bully held your head under the water. Sleep deprivation, slapping and aggressive verbal interrogation are not torture. Use of Waterboarding in the training of our own agents is entirely different since the context is one of training and implied trust/hope. Application of the same act in a hostile and intimidating manner against terrorists is an entirely different act. (Contrast: amputation of an arm by a surgeon with the same act by a sadist.)
The single, unambiguous moral failure of the Bush administration was the use of torture.
Thought experiment: Imagine we capture Osama; we know there is a ticking bomb due to go off in NYC within 24 hours; we know we cannot break him by applying physical pain; we also have custody of his beloved 10-year-old daughter, the joy of his life. We have the technology to simulate torture of the little girl, using and adapting videos and tapes of her voice, so that he will be convinced he is observing, by television, actual, real-time violation. The girl herself remains unharmed and protected. May we perform this simulation to possibly save 10 million innocent people in the NYC area? Clearly not! The love of a father for his daughter is sacred and is not to be violated. Were we to do so, even with good intentions (Do we know that Osama’s intentions are evil?), we would transform ourselves into terrorists.
We live in a structured, intelligible universe with clear rules and boundaries so that there are some things we can NEVER, EVER do. Torture is one of them.
I was disappointed to view EWTN the other night and observe Raymond Arroyo agreeing with Father Sirico as he opened the door to a pragmatic and liberal approach to torture.
Our nation needs to clearly renounce the use of torture, under any circumstances.
The liberal lynch mob in its rush to condemn Cheney and Company is, however, nauseatingly hypocritical. How can the Evil Empire of Abortion and Embryo Destruction sit in judgment against the limited, specific use of torture? This is like Hitler standing up at the Last Judgment to condemn Truman for bombing Hiroshima: He is technically correct, of course; that was the intrinsically evil act of targeting innocent civilians. But what gives him the authority to accuse? His crimes are immensely greater. We must credit President Obama for a measure of moral integrity in his renunciation of trials since he apparently intuits that his own relativistic, pragmatic morals requires an openness to the use of torture in some cases.
The Catholic view of the dignity of the human person and the sanctity of the body absolutely forbids torture.
Waterboarding, which I take to be simulated drowning, is obviously torture: recall your feeling as a 8-year old when the 11 year-old bully held your head under the water. Sleep deprivation, slapping and aggressive verbal interrogation are not torture. Use of Waterboarding in the training of our own agents is entirely different since the context is one of training and implied trust/hope. Application of the same act in a hostile and intimidating manner against terrorists is an entirely different act. (Contrast: amputation of an arm by a surgeon with the same act by a sadist.)
The single, unambiguous moral failure of the Bush administration was the use of torture.
Thought experiment: Imagine we capture Osama; we know there is a ticking bomb due to go off in NYC within 24 hours; we know we cannot break him by applying physical pain; we also have custody of his beloved 10-year-old daughter, the joy of his life. We have the technology to simulate torture of the little girl, using and adapting videos and tapes of her voice, so that he will be convinced he is observing, by television, actual, real-time violation. The girl herself remains unharmed and protected. May we perform this simulation to possibly save 10 million innocent people in the NYC area? Clearly not! The love of a father for his daughter is sacred and is not to be violated. Were we to do so, even with good intentions (Do we know that Osama’s intentions are evil?), we would transform ourselves into terrorists.
We live in a structured, intelligible universe with clear rules and boundaries so that there are some things we can NEVER, EVER do. Torture is one of them.
I was disappointed to view EWTN the other night and observe Raymond Arroyo agreeing with Father Sirico as he opened the door to a pragmatic and liberal approach to torture.
Our nation needs to clearly renounce the use of torture, under any circumstances.
The liberal lynch mob in its rush to condemn Cheney and Company is, however, nauseatingly hypocritical. How can the Evil Empire of Abortion and Embryo Destruction sit in judgment against the limited, specific use of torture? This is like Hitler standing up at the Last Judgment to condemn Truman for bombing Hiroshima: He is technically correct, of course; that was the intrinsically evil act of targeting innocent civilians. But what gives him the authority to accuse? His crimes are immensely greater. We must credit President Obama for a measure of moral integrity in his renunciation of trials since he apparently intuits that his own relativistic, pragmatic morals requires an openness to the use of torture in some cases.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
To Rest, Not to Sleep, in Vigilance
“Come to me all you who labor and are heavy burdened, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28
“Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you not undergo the test.” Mark 22:47
“Jesus is in agony until the end of time. Until then, we cannot sleep.” Pascal
Scripture instructs us to rest in the Lord, but not to sleep, but to keep watch in vigilance. This is a striking paradox.
Sleep is, of course, a primal human need. Those with nervous and addictive personalities are especially counseled to avoid HALT: becoming inordinately hungry, angry, lonely or tired. Under the stress of these triggers, the weakened psyche is prone to toxic, self-destructive compulsions and decomposition. In my own youth, natural stamina and energy allowed me to tolerate a degree of sleep deprivation but upon approaching middle age (late 40s) I learned that such indulgence made my fragile body-psyche-spirit vulnerable to nervous debilitation and compulsivity. For about a decade and a half, I have considered a good night’s sleep my number one survival priority. In cases like my own, vigilance urges and requires adequate sleep: I try to be in bed between 8 and 9 PM which allows me to arise around 5 PM for prayer.
Surely then scripture cannot be advising sleep deprivation; rather, sleep here is understood metaphorically as a failure in vigilance, a grogginess, an escape, an avoidance. We are exhorted to watch, to be alert, to wait on the Lord and be prepared for temptation and testing, always prepared to renounce the attack of the evil one. “Sleep” in this sense refers to the maidens who fell into a slumber when they should have been waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom, in readiness and expectation.
At the same time, however, we are constantly encouraged in God’s Word to rest: to be quiet and still, trusting, like a child in her mother’s arms, still and hopeful. This state of rest imitates the Rest of God which is at the same time Action, for within God rest and action are not contradictories or polarities, but mysteriously indwell each other. And so, the holy person, indwelt by the Holy Spirit, can be active and yet in an internal state of rest. St. Faustina, for example, in her diary, speaks constantly of her trust in God and her relaxation in his Mercy and yet she tells us that this is a time of struggle, not of rest. So we see that she was fairly constantly in a state of spiritual combat but interiorly was at rest, confident and trusting. This calls to mind an image of General Robert E. Lee who, even in the midst of very bloody battles, maintained a composure, a sobriety, and a dignified serenity.
And so we pray for this peace that surpasses understanding, a peace the world cannot give, a state of rest, confidence, and serenity; a rest that awakens us to vigilance and alertness; a calm and steady eagerness to endure patiently, to renounce evil, and receive the coming of our Lord.
See you at the Parousia!
“Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you not undergo the test.” Mark 22:47
“Jesus is in agony until the end of time. Until then, we cannot sleep.” Pascal
Scripture instructs us to rest in the Lord, but not to sleep, but to keep watch in vigilance. This is a striking paradox.
Sleep is, of course, a primal human need. Those with nervous and addictive personalities are especially counseled to avoid HALT: becoming inordinately hungry, angry, lonely or tired. Under the stress of these triggers, the weakened psyche is prone to toxic, self-destructive compulsions and decomposition. In my own youth, natural stamina and energy allowed me to tolerate a degree of sleep deprivation but upon approaching middle age (late 40s) I learned that such indulgence made my fragile body-psyche-spirit vulnerable to nervous debilitation and compulsivity. For about a decade and a half, I have considered a good night’s sleep my number one survival priority. In cases like my own, vigilance urges and requires adequate sleep: I try to be in bed between 8 and 9 PM which allows me to arise around 5 PM for prayer.
Surely then scripture cannot be advising sleep deprivation; rather, sleep here is understood metaphorically as a failure in vigilance, a grogginess, an escape, an avoidance. We are exhorted to watch, to be alert, to wait on the Lord and be prepared for temptation and testing, always prepared to renounce the attack of the evil one. “Sleep” in this sense refers to the maidens who fell into a slumber when they should have been waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom, in readiness and expectation.
At the same time, however, we are constantly encouraged in God’s Word to rest: to be quiet and still, trusting, like a child in her mother’s arms, still and hopeful. This state of rest imitates the Rest of God which is at the same time Action, for within God rest and action are not contradictories or polarities, but mysteriously indwell each other. And so, the holy person, indwelt by the Holy Spirit, can be active and yet in an internal state of rest. St. Faustina, for example, in her diary, speaks constantly of her trust in God and her relaxation in his Mercy and yet she tells us that this is a time of struggle, not of rest. So we see that she was fairly constantly in a state of spiritual combat but interiorly was at rest, confident and trusting. This calls to mind an image of General Robert E. Lee who, even in the midst of very bloody battles, maintained a composure, a sobriety, and a dignified serenity.
And so we pray for this peace that surpasses understanding, a peace the world cannot give, a state of rest, confidence, and serenity; a rest that awakens us to vigilance and alertness; a calm and steady eagerness to endure patiently, to renounce evil, and receive the coming of our Lord.
See you at the Parousia!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Images of Dissonance and Division
The University of Our Lady is to honor our pro-abortion President as commencement speaker.
The Harvard Aid’s Prevention Center, hardly a bastion of reactionary Catholicism, confirms Pope Benedict’s controversial statement that condoms do not prevent, but risk aggravating the AIDS epidemic, thereby igniting a worldwide liberal lament, even as our tax monies are directed by the Obama administration into the exportation of condoms and abortion. (http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/faith/article5987155.ece)
Secretary of State Clinton visits Our Lady of Guadalupe; she asks who painted it; and then goes on to accept the Margaret Sanger award the next day.
Our President pushes the Employee Freedom of Choice Act which would deprive workers of the anonymity of a secret ballot in union elections, even as he moves to deprive health care providers of the right to refuse participation in abortions and edges slowly, steadily, piece-by-piece to implement the Freedom of Choice Act which will absolutely forbid ANY restrictions on the right to abort.
A current Pew Survey shows a deeper polarization in our country now than during the Presidencies of the Bushes, Clinton or Reagan. Abortion supporters proclaim the end of the Culture War but this war is more intense than ever. We have probably not been so divided on primal moral values since the Civil War.
As Catholics, we may disagree on policy issues ranging from foreign affairs to economic stimulus to immigration to tax rates; but we must stand together on the protection of innocent life and the sanctity of the family. The tragedy of 2008 was not the Obama victory, but the betrayal of Catholic values by a majority of among us.
The Harvard Aid’s Prevention Center, hardly a bastion of reactionary Catholicism, confirms Pope Benedict’s controversial statement that condoms do not prevent, but risk aggravating the AIDS epidemic, thereby igniting a worldwide liberal lament, even as our tax monies are directed by the Obama administration into the exportation of condoms and abortion. (http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/faith/article5987155.ece)
Secretary of State Clinton visits Our Lady of Guadalupe; she asks who painted it; and then goes on to accept the Margaret Sanger award the next day.
Our President pushes the Employee Freedom of Choice Act which would deprive workers of the anonymity of a secret ballot in union elections, even as he moves to deprive health care providers of the right to refuse participation in abortions and edges slowly, steadily, piece-by-piece to implement the Freedom of Choice Act which will absolutely forbid ANY restrictions on the right to abort.
A current Pew Survey shows a deeper polarization in our country now than during the Presidencies of the Bushes, Clinton or Reagan. Abortion supporters proclaim the end of the Culture War but this war is more intense than ever. We have probably not been so divided on primal moral values since the Civil War.
As Catholics, we may disagree on policy issues ranging from foreign affairs to economic stimulus to immigration to tax rates; but we must stand together on the protection of innocent life and the sanctity of the family. The tragedy of 2008 was not the Obama victory, but the betrayal of Catholic values by a majority of among us.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Shane: The Loves of a Gunslinger
The western classic Shane (1953, staring Alan Ladd) traces a straightforward, archetypal plot: mysterious gunslinger Shane rides in; befriends hardworking homesteader Joe, his son Joey, and wife Marian; eventually faces down ruthless cowboy mob, including hired gunslinger Jack Wilson; and rides out of town in a mood of quiet, triumphant, heroic, but melancholic loneliness. The setting is the high plains near the Grand Teton Mountains and perfectly frames the resonant mythic themes: battle between good and evil, the loneliness of the hero, and the tender bonds of affection between prairie family and noble stranger. The film is particularly lucid and penetrating in its unveiling of a tripod of masculine loves: Shane’s devotion to Joe, Marian and Joey.
The brotherly friendship between Shane and Joe develops in a quintessentially masculine manner: initial respect and hospitality, followed by suspicion, loyalty, staunch and fierce solidarity in work and combat, shared love for women and children, and finally a fierce physical conflict rooted in loyalty and love. They work aggressively together, shirtless and muscles rippling, to attack a large stump on the farm; later, Shane single-handedly stands up to a vicious saloon mob and is rescued by a fierce, powerful, club-swinging Joe. The brotherly love between them is pronounced and inspiring: they intuitively recognize and mutually respect each other’s courage, decency, and nobility of character; they work and fight together in defense of family and justice; they fiercely confront each other, even drawing blood as each seeks to do the right thing. This theme of brotherly conflict is constitutive of man-to-man affection and loyalty. My son Paul tells me that in the military, when two men quarrel they are immediately directed to the boxing gloves and they slug it out with each other; afterwards, the combatants infallibly become good friends. Shane and Joe perfectly image this classic pattern of masculine love.
The sexual attraction between Shane and his friend’s wife Marian (played by an older Jean Arthur) is pronounced, but impeccably discreet, chaste, and ennobling. Shane, played by Ladd, is virile, handsome, mysterious, decent and immensely appealing. One understands that a woman, amidst the monotony and hardship of frontier life, would be enlivened by the appearance of such a man. Marian is modest, lovely, gentle, loyal, and tender. No wonder that a lonely and red-blooded man like Shane finds her irresistible. But her marital bond with Joe is so sacred to all three of them that it is never even remotely endangered. And so, the complex web of loyalties (brother-to-brother, husband-to-wife, wife-to-husband, brother-to-friend’s-wife, wife-to-husband’s-friend, father-to-son, mother-to-son, hero-to-younger-admirer) is so powerful that they are able to recognize and entertain the mutual attraction with a striking tenderness, discretion, and chastity, free of jealousy, resentment or covetousness. The scenes in which they dance together, when she serves an elegant meal and is respectfully complimented, and especially when she tends his battle wounds…each unveils an affection most poignant for its gentleness, reverence, tenderness, nobility, and saddened sense of longing.
This dynamic recalls the chemistry that occurs between priest and woman in strong Catholic cultures such as the one that flourished in the USA in the two decades after World War II. In that era, the priesthood attracted many virile men, including veterans, while marriage was highly cherished and protected by the ex-GIs and their loyal wives. In that context, the chastity of the priest and the spousal fidelity of the wives were unquestionable; as a result, woman and priest were protected by an inviolate taboo system and a certain wholesome and restrained flirtation was possible. Like Shane, the priest also is a stranger from another world; he is not domesticated and rooted in the family; he enters a family’s life, brings freedom from evil, and then moves on in a heroic, mysterious manner that is not comprehensible within the categories of home and family. He is unavailable and therefore all the more appealing. By virtue of his celibacy, he is more strikingly masculine in his loneliness, courage, and self-sacrifice.
The drama unfolds through the eyes of 8-year-old Joey who immediately idolizes Shane. His love for his own father is undiminished by this obsession; rather, it seems to complete and complement his passion to emulate masculine nobility. Here again we encounter an archetype of the male itinerary: the son loves and emulates his own blood father, but must also move beyond that foundational role model to find new heroes and mentors. The son knows his own father in the context of domestic routine and monotony; in the inescapable drudgery of duty and responsibility. Unconsciously, the loyal son admires and imitates this quiet, humble loyalty. But the son is also destined to leave his mother and father, to test and prove himself in battle, to follow his own vocation, to forge his own distinctive masculine identity, and to start his own family. Therefore, by a marvelous, complex and incomprehensible mimesis, the son respectfully distances himself from his own father and finds alternate mentors and masters.
And so, for me as a father, it has been thrilling and delightful to observe my two sons journey into masculinity as they are mentored by “secondary father” including teachers, coaches, priests, uncles, professors, officers, bosses, and random strangers like the mysterious gunslinger.
Shane was produced in 1953 in the heart of the post-war renaissance of primordial values rooted in spousal loyalty, feminine virtue, and masculine heroism. In the wake of the sexual revolution, it became improbable for such a film to come out of Hollywood. But it is good for us to return to such movies though Netflix or Turner Classics, to encourage and inspire ourselves in the pursuit of such masculine nobility.
The brotherly friendship between Shane and Joe develops in a quintessentially masculine manner: initial respect and hospitality, followed by suspicion, loyalty, staunch and fierce solidarity in work and combat, shared love for women and children, and finally a fierce physical conflict rooted in loyalty and love. They work aggressively together, shirtless and muscles rippling, to attack a large stump on the farm; later, Shane single-handedly stands up to a vicious saloon mob and is rescued by a fierce, powerful, club-swinging Joe. The brotherly love between them is pronounced and inspiring: they intuitively recognize and mutually respect each other’s courage, decency, and nobility of character; they work and fight together in defense of family and justice; they fiercely confront each other, even drawing blood as each seeks to do the right thing. This theme of brotherly conflict is constitutive of man-to-man affection and loyalty. My son Paul tells me that in the military, when two men quarrel they are immediately directed to the boxing gloves and they slug it out with each other; afterwards, the combatants infallibly become good friends. Shane and Joe perfectly image this classic pattern of masculine love.
The sexual attraction between Shane and his friend’s wife Marian (played by an older Jean Arthur) is pronounced, but impeccably discreet, chaste, and ennobling. Shane, played by Ladd, is virile, handsome, mysterious, decent and immensely appealing. One understands that a woman, amidst the monotony and hardship of frontier life, would be enlivened by the appearance of such a man. Marian is modest, lovely, gentle, loyal, and tender. No wonder that a lonely and red-blooded man like Shane finds her irresistible. But her marital bond with Joe is so sacred to all three of them that it is never even remotely endangered. And so, the complex web of loyalties (brother-to-brother, husband-to-wife, wife-to-husband, brother-to-friend’s-wife, wife-to-husband’s-friend, father-to-son, mother-to-son, hero-to-younger-admirer) is so powerful that they are able to recognize and entertain the mutual attraction with a striking tenderness, discretion, and chastity, free of jealousy, resentment or covetousness. The scenes in which they dance together, when she serves an elegant meal and is respectfully complimented, and especially when she tends his battle wounds…each unveils an affection most poignant for its gentleness, reverence, tenderness, nobility, and saddened sense of longing.
This dynamic recalls the chemistry that occurs between priest and woman in strong Catholic cultures such as the one that flourished in the USA in the two decades after World War II. In that era, the priesthood attracted many virile men, including veterans, while marriage was highly cherished and protected by the ex-GIs and their loyal wives. In that context, the chastity of the priest and the spousal fidelity of the wives were unquestionable; as a result, woman and priest were protected by an inviolate taboo system and a certain wholesome and restrained flirtation was possible. Like Shane, the priest also is a stranger from another world; he is not domesticated and rooted in the family; he enters a family’s life, brings freedom from evil, and then moves on in a heroic, mysterious manner that is not comprehensible within the categories of home and family. He is unavailable and therefore all the more appealing. By virtue of his celibacy, he is more strikingly masculine in his loneliness, courage, and self-sacrifice.
The drama unfolds through the eyes of 8-year-old Joey who immediately idolizes Shane. His love for his own father is undiminished by this obsession; rather, it seems to complete and complement his passion to emulate masculine nobility. Here again we encounter an archetype of the male itinerary: the son loves and emulates his own blood father, but must also move beyond that foundational role model to find new heroes and mentors. The son knows his own father in the context of domestic routine and monotony; in the inescapable drudgery of duty and responsibility. Unconsciously, the loyal son admires and imitates this quiet, humble loyalty. But the son is also destined to leave his mother and father, to test and prove himself in battle, to follow his own vocation, to forge his own distinctive masculine identity, and to start his own family. Therefore, by a marvelous, complex and incomprehensible mimesis, the son respectfully distances himself from his own father and finds alternate mentors and masters.
And so, for me as a father, it has been thrilling and delightful to observe my two sons journey into masculinity as they are mentored by “secondary father” including teachers, coaches, priests, uncles, professors, officers, bosses, and random strangers like the mysterious gunslinger.
Shane was produced in 1953 in the heart of the post-war renaissance of primordial values rooted in spousal loyalty, feminine virtue, and masculine heroism. In the wake of the sexual revolution, it became improbable for such a film to come out of Hollywood. But it is good for us to return to such movies though Netflix or Turner Classics, to encourage and inspire ourselves in the pursuit of such masculine nobility.
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