tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-129946382024-03-07T16:15:28.444-05:00the glory of everythingAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.comBlogger940125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-24518385270497812352015-08-05T07:48:00.001-04:002015-08-05T07:57:05.595-04:00of blogs and betrayalsI may be either maintaining two blogs with different foci (hoyti-toyti pluralization), or switching over to WordPress completely. I have not yet made up my mind. (Advice would be accepted, and even appreciated, though not necessarily followed.) Either way, I have begun writing over at <a href="http://gloryofeverything.wordpress.com/">gloryofeverything.wordpress.com</a> if you would like to join the fun.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-2452552632572344952015-08-03T11:33:00.000-04:002015-08-03T11:33:00.658-04:00a/c and me<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"The U.S. uses more electricity for air conditioning than Africa uses for <em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">everything</em>."</span><br />
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The quote comes from a <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonkblog/wp/2015/08/03/how-america-fell-in-love-with-crazy-amounts-of-air-conditioning/" target="_blank">Washington Post article </a>on America's obsession with air conditioning. An interesting read. Pope Francis mentions air conditioning briefly in <i>Laudato Si,</i> linking it with our "harmful habits of consumption."</span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">In North Carolina, I kind of like my A/C, even while understanding that we can become accustomed to the weather around us. I'm not sure that I want to. But perhaps I'll dial the A/C down a few degrees today even so.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-45780140990594870662015-08-03T09:28:00.000-04:002015-08-03T09:28:22.778-04:00life is oddIn recent summers, we have traveled to Michigan for about a month to help my parents with a little pizza/ice cream/grocery on a lake up north. I work alongside my mom and dad. I have very little free time. And then our short summer (usually about a month) ends and we return to North Carolina, my wife to work and me to home. The transitions are difficult each time for me.<br />
<br />
I'm often at odds with myself, with my place.<br />
<br />
In another, bigger transition this year, all the school-age children are going to be in school, and I will be home with only the two youngest, Asa and Ellie. Life will still be insane, but perhaps with the homeschooling hat hung up for now I will also have more time to be a little more ordered and free to write. This is my hope.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-35028824508823014072014-07-15T07:54:00.000-04:002014-07-15T07:54:21.781-04:00the fandom menace<p>I have never been keen on the typical American sports fare of baseball, basketball, and football. I can get into football when necessary, but the other two- meh. I actually quite like watching some sports that many find absolutely boring: tennis, running, cycling, and soccer. I don’t mind hockey either. But it doesn’t require very much time in front of the TV to get my sports fix except for the month of July. If I have the time, I like to park my keister in front of the TV and catch Wimbledon and, even more, Le Tour de France. This year, I enjoyed the World Cup.<p>Perhaps there is really no rhyme or reason to it, but I didn’t grow up with a father who watched many sports. He was an avid outdoorsman. He liked guns and fishing rods. And guns. (I’m not an avid hunter or fisherman either, but that’s another story.) So I suppose if I were to blame or thank anyone, it would be him.<p>My recreation has always centered around books and couches. If I could lay on a couch all day and plow through half or all of a book - undisturbed - I’d be happy. Nowadays I find it difficult to read for long, but I chalk it up to the constant weariness and interruption of having so very many small people around. And Facebook and Twitter is ruining my attention span. I can get through an article, but finishing whole books - real books - becomes harder and harder for me. If I lay down at night after the offspring have gone to bed to read a book instead of watching TV, then I simply get more sleep. Now that I think about it, that wouldn’t be a terrible thing.<p>So I live life off, different from what one typically thinks of when one thinks of an American male. I’m OK with it. But sometimes it makes it hard to find things to talk about with other guys. We were part of a Baptist congregation at one time where sports was all the other men would talk about. Mostly basketball. March was a dreary month for me. I’d smile and nod and try to stay awake.<p>I am poor in male small-talk currency.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-648646901153943122012-11-01T21:58:00.000-04:002012-11-01T22:01:05.050-04:00... pray for us<p>It was a holy day of obligation today - All Saints' Day. So I took the kids to Liturgy at noon. It was one of those cases where you walk in precisely five minutes late and they are finishing the Gospel reading already. The light-footed Mass worked out well for me and the eight kids, since the TWO year old doesn't usually sit quiet for long.<p>You know, I wish I could go to Mass every day. But here's the wickedness in my heart: I wish I could go by myself. Mass is hard with little children. It is often merely showing up, blessing yourself with holy water, and then shushing the children for an hour. But the participation remains, doesn't it? Presence is something. It's essential, as a matter of fact. I have heard it said, and it seems proven in my life in so many ways, that salvation is mostly just showing up.<p>Whether you got to Mass today or did not, may the saints whose names we bear pray for us. And may we be converted to Christ as they were, so that our children might have icons of Christ in their own homes instead of icons of anger and impatience. Pray for me.<p>I must decrease. St John the Baptist, pray that Christ might increase in me. St. Irenaeus, pray that I might behold God in the ordinariness of life, that I might be fully present and fully alive.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-57620216593235009802012-10-30T07:25:00.003-04:002012-10-30T07:28:11.927-04:00warm blankets<p>Warm blankets on cold mornings are lovely, but such cozy solitude can't last. Soon cries draw me up the stairs to the littles' room, who want community and closeness and noise. Others will wake up and join us. This old body will have to warm today with work and hugs.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-18337082016733890072012-10-11T15:02:00.001-04:002012-10-11T15:02:11.984-04:00reading aloud<p>I need some suggestions for books to read aloud to the kids. It seems my list, my memory, is heavily fantasy-science fiction, so I need some help. What are some books that you loved hearing read to you (or reading when you were a little older)? We are about to finish <i>To Kill a Mockingbird</i> and need something in the next week and a half. Thanks!</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-70895404675339768252012-10-09T08:54:00.003-04:002012-10-09T17:02:49.399-04:00debate season<p>Somedays it seems as if Cate (3) and Noah (2) carry on an argument from the time they wake up until the time they go to bed, punctuated by pushing, screaming, crying, and the like. They're tiny, inseparable curmudgeons. "Nuh-uh," is their favorite response to the other. Noah likes to tack on a belittling, "Baby!" (Which we are working on.) An old, little married couple, each too afraid and too in love to be without the other.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-16442672719885998142012-10-09T08:36:00.001-04:002012-10-09T08:39:50.642-04:00you cannot give what you do not have<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/w8EqX-bXF_I" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-25429673968167968782012-10-07T01:43:00.001-04:002012-10-07T01:43:39.150-04:00full speed ahead<p>Asa is 3 1/2 months old now. He was such a scrawny thing when he was born - a little bag of bones. But he's fattened up beautifully. Occasionally I'll look up from what I am doing and see a big smile on his chubby face, looking at me. I am hilarious. He sits in his swing and tells his story to whomever will listen. He was born on the nativity feast of John the Baptist (June 24) and so we gave him a second middle name, Jean-Baptiste. The older children are smitten with him. They pause in their play to come kiss his warm, fuzzy head.<p>What a blessing children are. They overwhelm me, cover me like autumn leaves.<p>Fall is when "every leaf becomes a flower" (as, I believe, Nietzsche once said). Family, holidays, the final weeks of ordinary time. Christ the King. Cider and donuts, Campfires and hayrides. Pumpkins. Spice. The sweep and crunch that calls one into the yard. The smell of burning leaves and the sound of rakes scraping cold earth. Runny noses and cold, happy cheeks. Warm blankets and thick socks.<p>We spent the summer in Michigan. On the way out the door, I sprained or fractured my ankle. But ice and ibuprofen work wonders. The 18 hour trip that followed wasn't terrible. And when we arrived in Michigan, work helped the healing. I helped my mom and dad with their ice cream-pizza shop over the summer - a seasonal, summer operation on a lake. And, of course, they helped us. I fell in love with Michigan all over again while I was there. And while I had very few free days, we spent them fully visiting the Mackinac Bridge and the U.P. We hunted for petoskey stones while breathing lapis skies. Lake Michigan and Michigan lakes - it is hard to top them. Trip in northern Michigan and you stumble into another state park or national forest. It is home. It is family.<p>Family is difficult and lovely. Often we try too hard. We try to force family - something that can't be forced. You fall into family. Yes we bicker and get on each other's nerves. That's OK. We are broken and warted, all of us. But we are family. We participate in life together. We generously make room for one another. We accept all that is given, and give everything in return. It can be frightening. It is dangerous being real. But damn the torpedoes.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-38607905296549596382012-06-04T08:11:00.002-04:002012-06-04T08:20:31.436-04:00June<p>June is a time for dreaming, setting out, and rest. So many things are happening and have happened and will be happening, and these activities repeat themselves every year like a poem. June is hope-filled.<p>. . . . .<p>We have two birthdays at the beginning of June, Sophie and Will. We will be having a third this year and forever after with the birth of our new son, Asa. When will that be? Only God knows. Asa's due date is June 19, but the baby don't have no calendar in utero. This child will be our eighth (still with us), and our fourth boy. We are excited. Laura is physically ready, or has every appearance of being so. So ready and yet, as always, so un-ready. A baby jars the teacup. We have so much planned for this summer and hope that it will all play out at least somewhat as we suppose. The best thing happening is this baby boy, of course. And part of me wishes we could just rest with him as we are, where we are. We have other responsibilities, however, and they will be nearly as demanding as a hungry baby.<p>. . . . .<p>We are finishing up the school year - a year at home this year. Sophie started the year in public middle school, but we decided together that it would be best to pull her out mid-year and let her finish at home with her sisters and brother. We're happy we did. It has been a good year. We have all learned how important learning is and how difficult it is at times with the interruptions of family. But it has been a good start. I can't imagine sending them back to school at this point, which is saying quite a bit given the time of year it is. Teaching them at home is difficult. It is not perfect. It is far from perfect. But it is certainly good. I have learned quite a bit. They have learned as well. Not all of that learning has been academic, but all of it has been necessary. And we have a long way to go. I have told the kids that we would be finishing up this week, which we will, but that we will also be working throughout the summer - reading, readings, prayers, some math, and the learning that comes through life's tectonics.<p>This summer is set to be a particularly disruptive one, though that is not to say that it will be bad. The disruption here will be good, as far as I know. The baby, primarily. And then Laura and I will be celebrating our 20th anniversary with a quick jaunt to Italy (we wish) and then we will be heading up to Michigan for a couple of months (!) to help my parents with their ice cream/pizza shop that they recently acquired. I am looking for work in Michigan as well. If that work doesn't pan out, at the end of the summer we will be back here for another year in North Carolina. If it does, we will be back and forth some to ready the house for sale and say our goodbyes. I am not sure how much free time there will be this summer as I will be working a lot, but it will be a nice change of scenery if nothing else. We are hoping and praying that Laura does not have to go back to teaching and can stay home with the baby. She's ready for that change, though her being ready for eight children 24/7, I'm not so sure. But who is ever ready for that? Child rearing is part of our theosis and, therefore - though, definitionally a struggle - a beautiful journey.<p>. . . . .<p>I need to write more. I feel less without it consistently, in some way, as part of my life. A friend sent a link via Facebook of Neil Gaiman's recent commencement address and it was refreshing and insightful. I am a writer. Writing is what I do. And while I do not always do it well, there is something in me that demands I do it. Now there are more important callings in my life, certainly. But these callings are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they lean upon one another. Writing is a strange profession in that I am not sure it will ever provide for our family. I am not sure it needs to. I am quite certain, however, that money is not the point of it. And I am certain I need to write. I know it.<p>. . . . .<p>This past weekend William received Holy Communion for the first time. How beautiful! I always get wet-eyed during one of my children's first participation in a sacrament. It is a wonderful thing to see them entering more fully into the life of the Church, into Christ's very life. It doesn't get any better than that. It was a good weekend.<p>. . . . .<p>Thanks be to God.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-22394325003157867512012-06-01T06:41:00.000-04:002012-06-01T06:43:05.349-04:00happy birthday and holy crap<p>My oldest, Sophia, is thirteen today. Thirteen. Do you understand what that means? Only seven more years until she is allowed to have a Facebook account. Wow.<p>Happy birthday, Sophie!</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-83608965857837280732012-04-01T07:11:00.001-04:002012-04-01T07:12:30.127-04:00april 1 anniversary<p>On this fool's day, six years ago, I was received back into into the open arms of Mother Church. Thanks be to God!<p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-23791442397109263632012-03-30T09:33:00.003-04:002012-03-30T09:35:07.291-04:00continuing<p>It is nearly 9:30 and my almost 13 year old is not yet awake. At what time does this teenager sleeping till noon thing start? We've got school to do after all.<p>I'm needing to write again. I don't know why this urge comes and goes with me. Maybe it's a constant thing that I simply succeed at distracting myself from until it builds into something too great to ignore. Maybe it's gas. I really don't know, but have, through a couple different avenues, been drawn back to Flannery O'Connor's writing and the inspiration it has been to me and continues to be to me. Specifically, the short story, "Parker's Back." I was flipping through Google Reader when I saw someone had written on this story, Flannery's final bit of writing. What a wonderful story addressing, ultimately perhaps, the Incarnation. It's a good one, if you haven't read it. Nearly as haunting, I suspect, as Parker's own back. Anyway, time to wake up Sleeping Beauty and get on with the day.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-72680599581833086582012-02-27T03:27:00.003-05:002012-02-28T10:15:19.358-05:00Knock the little bastards' brains out.<p>I stumbled onto this quote by C.S. Lewis in his <i>Reflections on the Psalms</i> concerning the cursing psalms in the Scriptures:<blockquote><p>I know things in the inner world which are like babies; the infantile beginnings of small indulgences, small resentments, which may one day become dipsomania or settled hatred, but which woo us and wheedle us with special pleadings and seem so tiny, so helpless that in resisting them we feel we are being cruel to animals. They begin whispering to us, "I don't ask much, but", or "I had at least hoped", or "you owe yourself some consideration". Against all such pretty infants (the dears have such winning ways) the advice of the Psalm is the best: knock the little bastards' brains out. And "blessed" he who can, for it's easier said than done.</blockquote><p>The same interpretation is given in the early Fathers of the Church as can be seen here in St John Cassian's <i>Institutes</i>: "It behooves us as well to destroy the sinners in our bed - namely, our fleshly feelings - on the morning of their birth, as they emerge, and, while they are still young, to dash the children of Babylon against the rock. Unless they are killed at a very tender age they will, with our acquiescence, rise up to our harm as stronger adults, and they will certainly not be overcome without great pain and effort" (6.13.2).</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-78242531581479977622012-02-23T07:05:00.000-05:002012-02-23T07:05:02.102-05:00six months later<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsR2xTMEYAtieh9I5Q6UbsZ8i-5NqflKF6b7DZBRtv_jOVh0d8OqmMuD3CEW_ztfv676XiVa8D2lze2YAeoMSevQMzSzf0TbJR2JxyW7icLtJHVsLUEP2c1aACXmJ7-mBSYjsMg/s1600/IMG_1171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsR2xTMEYAtieh9I5Q6UbsZ8i-5NqflKF6b7DZBRtv_jOVh0d8OqmMuD3CEW_ztfv676XiVa8D2lze2YAeoMSevQMzSzf0TbJR2JxyW7icLtJHVsLUEP2c1aACXmJ7-mBSYjsMg/s320/IMG_1171.JPG" /></a></div><p>I tend to neglect this little blog. I always intend not to. And then I check it and half a year has passed without my writing here. It's been a busy half year.<p>I started eating vegan in September 2011, for health reasons. And while I may be the fattest vegan in the world, I feel so much healthier. Unfortunately, this February, I've been more vegetarian than vegan and occasionally just a plain old meat eater (once or twice). I'm gearing up for vegan again though since it seems to be the diet that makes me feel best - far fewer headaches, and only very rare migraines. Generally more energy. And I need to begin walking again, though I am entirely too lazy.<p>Lent has begun again and the seven kids and I went to Noon Mass to receive our Lord and our ashes. I love Lent. Above is a picture of the kids.<p>Finally, as I have mentioned on Facebook, though not here, we are expecting our eighth child sometime around the summer solstice. It's a boy! Four girls, four boys. Lord 'a' mercy.<p>(The kids from Left to Right: Sophie [holding Noey], Anna, Avery, and Will. And on the short row are Jack and Cate. They are standing in front of the B.A.V. - our big white van.)</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-26080889410001460672011-08-22T07:57:00.000-04:002011-08-22T07:57:25.850-04:00ordinary<p>I am tired of hearing this false gospel that is currently being propagated, that to be a real Christian I must do some extraordinary thing for Christ. That real Christianity cannot be realized on a rural farm is rubbish. If it cannot be lived there, it cannot be lived anywhere. We take up the Great Commission because of our insecurity, guilt, and discontentment. But Christianity is not a call to be extraordinary, but to see the extraordinary in the ordinary. So that water is no longer just water. Bread no longer just bread. Christianity is not a call to be somebody, but to be nobody. It is in being ordinary, becoming nobody, that we become real Christians. That we become like God. We love the people in our lives. Everything else, everything, is vainglory. Now it is extraordinary to love and pray for our enemies - but it is done in quietness. There is no stirring of any public pool here. No hubbub. No hurrahs. What is extraordinary in Christianity is that closets achieve more than councils, and that a cup of cold water is a conversion. We achieve more letting go of greatness than grasping at it.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-16216641596639622842011-08-18T08:07:00.001-04:002011-08-18T08:10:45.950-04:00Assurance and Stuff<p><i>Forgive the sloppiness of yesterday's post - blog posts are often written hurriedly or in the heat of the moment, which is not so much an excuse as a sad statement of fact. I realize the disagreement between Protestants and Catholics that I touched on concerning justification is a complicated one. But it saddens me how many intelligent, thoughtful, and good people are simply unaware of Catholic teaching - or only have a cursory understanding of it.</i><p>So I was telling my wife about the Sproul lecture I had listened to and she interrupted me, with just the proper bit of chide in her voice, saying, "Why are you listening to him?" Which is actually a question I've been pondering for some time on the heels of the controversy this year in Protestantism over hell that was precipitated by Rob Bell. Frankly, Protestant controversy is Protestant controversy and I have no business sticking in my nose. Often I do, reasoning that I have friends and family who are Protestant, and I'd like to be able to engage them if it ever comes up in conversation. But I'm Catholic, and it's really no business of mine. The Catholic Church has her own issues and problems and I would better spend my time praying about difficulties that I am dealing with in my own family, parish, and community. There is a hell in my heart that St Paul calls the love of controversy.<p>Now what drew me to listening to him yesterday, which I haven't done in years, is that I saw an intriguing tweet, which I can't seem to find now, that said something about how Assurance of Salvation Leads to Sanctification. Intriguing because I have recently been talking to some friends about assurance (Catholics don't believe in assurance of salvation). And intriguing because I wondered how something I no longer believe in could lead me or others to holiness. Sproul pushed against Catholic teaching quite a bit in his bit, and I just grabbed a moment of it and reacted. (Reaction, by the way, is never a great starting point for great thought. Note to self.) I didn't find anything instructive in his belief about holiness and assurance, and was disappointed by how convoluted and silly the argument was. But I live in an alternate universe and I imagine people are just as perplexed when I open my mouth.<p>Whether my salvation is secure, in my thinking, is entirely the wrong focus (and it needs to be gotten out of the way - this is actually Sproul's contention as well). I'm in the Church. I receive the sacraments. I belong to the Body of Christ. God loves me and shows mercy to me - every day. What do I need a contract for? He's my Father. (I don't need to be constantly checking my birth certificate to confirm that my dad is my dad.) And though I daily stray from him, he is still my Father and it is only in his house that I ever truly feel peace and rest. Now certainly we may have doubts about things - sometimes we may even wonder whether we're saved (one of the elect). Some of these fears are natural to us. Some of them are the work of the Holy Spirit to draw us back to God, to renew our baptismal vows*, to drive us to his grace and mercy in Confession/Reconciliation. But the fear is from the pit. And if you struggle with always thinking that God is dangling you over said pit, or you fear that you think you are saved but may be one of those with a false sense of assurance to whom God says, "Depart from me, I never knew you," then your answer is not found in some fanciful promise. Your answer is Christ, and in the forgiveness and mercy that he continually extends to us. We love him imperfectly and so we fear. Trust him. He is good. He is the Lover of Mankind. Trust him.<p><p>*Our baptismal vows are mostly an affirmation of the Apostles' Creed. We renew them, re-affirm them, remind ourselves of them within our Liturgy, but also even as we enter our parish and cross ourselves with holy water - a sign/symbol that it is through our baptism that we enter the church:<p><blockquote>V. Do you reject Satan?<p>R. I do.<p>V. And all his works?<p>R. I do.<p>V. And all his empty promises?<p>R. I do.<p>V. Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth?<p>R. I do.<p>V. Do you believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was born of the Virgin Mary was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father?<p>R. I do.<p>V. Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting?<p>R. I do.<p>V. God, the all-powerful Father of our Lord Jesus Christ has given us a new birth by water and the Holy Spirit, and forgiven all our sins. May he also keep us faithful to our Lord Jesus Christ for ever and ever.<p>R. Amen.</blockquote><p>"I surrender myself to thee, O Christ, to be ruled by thy precepts."</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-69122134736552690402011-08-17T09:40:00.004-04:002011-08-17T23:58:55.523-04:00Hmm.R.C. Sproul: Works do not justify. Faith alone justifies. But faith that does not work does not justify.<br />
<br />
It is fascinating to me that R.C. thinks (1) this is faith alone and (2) that this differs from Catholic thought.<br />
<br />
Catholics do not believe that we must do anything in order to be part of the Body of Christ - God's mercy is so gratuitous that we may baptize our infants, who can do nothing. Pope Benedict XVI, saying nothing different or new, said that Catholic thought is compatible with "faith alone" as long as faith does not abandon love. (Gal 5, faith working through love.)<br />
<br />
One must understand what one truly believes as well as what the other truly believes in order to have real disagreement.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-85466553879483665132011-08-13T20:02:00.001-04:002011-08-13T20:02:40.059-04:00The Dormition of the Theotokos (Feast of the Assumption)<p>Fr Stephen Freeman has <a href="http://fatherstephen.wordpress.com/2011/08/12/the-day-the-earth-stood-still/">an excellent post</a> on the Feast of the Dormition, Marian theology, and communion with Christ/salvation in general. I would encourage you to read it in order to edify your faith or to better explain why Mary figures prominently within the Church (or ought to).<p>Here in America, the Catholic Church has abrogated our holy obligation since the feast (Aug 15) falls on Monday.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-40219364869992938672011-08-10T10:54:00.002-04:002011-08-10T10:56:26.080-04:00Holy Wit<p>It is the feast day of St. Lawrence, a third century martyr. Here's a legend about him via <a href="http://www.americancatholic.org/features/saints/saint.aspx?id=1103">American Catholic</a>:<blockquote><p>As deacon in Rome, Lawrence was charged with the responsibility for the material goods of the Church, and the distribution of alms to the poor. When Lawrence knew he would be arrested like the pope, he sought out the poor, widows and orphans of Rome and gave them all the money he had on hand, selling even the sacred vessels to increase the sum. When the prefect of Rome heard of this, he imagined that the Christians must have considerable treasure. He sent for Lawrence and said, "You Christians say we are cruel to you, but that is not what I have in mind. I am told that your priests offer in gold, that the sacred blood is received in silver cups, that you have golden candlesticks at your evening services. Now, your doctrine says you must render to Caesar what is his. Bring these treasures - the emperor needs them to maintain his forces. God does not cause money to be counted: He brought none of it into the world with him - only words. Give me the money, therefore, and be rich in words."<p>Lawrence replied that the Church was indeed rich. "I will show you a valuable part. But give me time to set everything in order and make an inventory." After three days he gathered a great number of blind, lame, maimed, leprous, orphaned and widowed persons and put them in rows. When the prefect arrived, Lawrence simply said, "These are the treasure of the Church."<p>The prefect was so angry he told Lawrence that he would indeed have his wish to die - but it would be by inches. He had a great gridiron prepared, with coals beneath it, and had Lawrence's body placed on it. After the martyr had suffered the pain for a long time, the legend concludes, he made his famous cheerful remark, "It is well done. Turn me over!"</blockquote></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-67113651926552822302011-08-10T10:25:00.000-04:002011-08-10T10:25:34.822-04:00Children<p>It is unconscionable that people, children, are dying for lack of food or water. It is unnecessary. Even in drought or famine, such as in Somalia, the deaths that are happening are tragically unnecessary. They could be prevented but for tyranny. And tyranny takes many forms.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-32494236803443450082011-08-10T08:28:00.000-04:002011-08-10T08:28:12.358-04:00Children<p>Don't be like me. Don't be like me. Be like your mother. Don't be like me.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-15140622458341887702011-06-17T02:57:00.000-04:002011-06-17T02:57:21.022-04:00Revise Us Again, by Frank Viola<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9vox8uud6ZXWvyxw0PFJ5g7kgmGBwtFqg4OGE3h6n0kHEW4FGw1DpIbXN3Ys_Gh98VaqnCl3RXQ5FfQUmDG1-k6fVs3sbcbQ4wG04pzqzdqtVsLk6QvDwqAPmedLKGmuYqTgFg/s1600/image001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9vox8uud6ZXWvyxw0PFJ5g7kgmGBwtFqg4OGE3h6n0kHEW4FGw1DpIbXN3Ys_Gh98VaqnCl3RXQ5FfQUmDG1-k6fVs3sbcbQ4wG04pzqzdqtVsLk6QvDwqAPmedLKGmuYqTgFg/s320/image001.jpg" /></a></div><p><i>Revise Us Again,</i> by Frank Viola, is a patchwork quilt of sorts, at times poorly sewn. This is an editorial and organizational criticism more than a criticism of the content of Viola's thoughts. The theme of <i>revision,</i> though used throughout in chapter subtitles, seems to be imposed on the book, as if it were applied as an afterthought and whose idea was better than its execution. So for me the writing never gains the necessary momentum to carry me along. The intended thesis is never fully realized and ends up feeling like a compilation of musings about what's bent or broken in Evangelicalism without a clear enough focus or a proper framing. The idea seemed forced to me - or reached for and missed.<p>I do, however, appreciate several themes that Viola does present in <i>Revise Us Again.</i> First, my Christian life requires as honest an examination as I can give it. I don't think this theme consistently reaches the level intended, that of <i>revision</i>, though perhaps it could have had it been worked at a bit longer. Second, I am happy that Viola gets at the idea of community as an expression of charity. This idea is so terribly important and so awfully missed in so many of our church communities. And third, Viola seems downright charitable in this book - this is not to say that he normally isn't, <i>Revise Us Again</i> is my first encounter with Viola's work, but I appreciate his generosity toward others. He doesn't condemn in this book, he doesn't berate - he points and suggests, nudges the reader as if to ask, "What do you think about ... ?" The book scored highly for me in this respect - Viola desires that his book draw the Body of Christ together rather than divide it. This is a noble goal and one not easily attained when writing about what we do poorly or get wrong as Christians.<p>Now I did take issue with Viola in Chapter 9, "Stripping Down to Christ Alone: Revising the Holy Spirit's Ministry." I read this chapter wrongly every time, and I believe it's because I don't share Viola's history - I'm not "post-Charismatic" as he labels himself. Perhaps if I had a similar background to Viola's, this chapter would make a great deal of sense to me, or even seem necessary. But as it is it seems, at best, off. So when he includes the following sentence in the chapter, "To my mind, the Holy Spirit has but one job: to reveal, to make known, to magnify, to glorify, and to make central and supreme the Lord Jesus Christ," I cringe. (And what bothers me about the sentence is the phrase, "has but one job.") Most likely, I am quibbling. But it doesn't seem an apt description of "the Lord, the Giver of Life," or comprehend <a href="http://www.oca.org/OCSelect-Prayer.asp?SID=2&name=Common%20Prayers">the Orthodox prayer "O Heavenly King ..."</a> If we must talk about the Holy Spirit having "but one job," it is important to understand that this one job is the same one job the Father and the Son are busy about - the restoration of all things, reconciliation, redemption. Of course, speaking about the Most Holy Trinity makes me nervous to begin with because I fear we often err by saying more than we ought to, that we speak of things too great and marvelous for us.<p>Don't misunderstand, every time someone writes about more than one person of the Most Holy Trinity, I do not expect an orthodox treatise on the proper relationship between the three persons of the Godhead. But Viola sets it up in such a way that it needs to be discussed or qualified in some way because he juxtaposes Son and Spirit, and in such an arrangement there seems to this non-post-Charismatic that the push back Viola gives pushes back too hard and too far. Now his audience may need the heavy push, the shaking that says, "It's Christ." So I must assume the best and pray that it helps many others as they wrestle with their own histories. Nonetheless, the chapter deserves some clarification and needs a positive assertion about the unity of the Divine Persons rather than to do what it does - push off from one in favor of another (this is not Viola's intention, but it is my impression).<p>All in all, I liked <i>Revise Us Again.</i> I have my differences and my opinions, but the re-evaluation of "What is it we are about?" is relevant when there seems as much upheaval as stability within Evangelicalism. And it is always timely in my own life in respect to the Church, the community, within which I live and worship. There are weaknesses within the work and the project seems, in places, to reach beyond what it attains. But the thinking within the book is sound and the spirit of it leans toward restoration.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12994638.post-64229820853762509132011-06-10T09:54:00.002-04:002011-06-10T10:00:30.521-04:00last day<p>The last day of school, a little milestone, a moving forward - change. I'm not good at it. Time is a stream that carries all things with it. I am a soddened stick near the bottom, bumping slowly along in my unwillingness to move forward. I am not the leaf, newly fallen, that dances with current and ripple.<p>It is the milestone that slaps me across the face. That shakes me and yells at me to wake up. I am weighed down by anxiety and fear - it is so frightening to be present. I run from Today - backward or forward. Anywhere, really. I have difficulty moving forward because I have not lived today. And I missed yesterday. I have missed it. And fear will make me miss all of it.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12564684437473178371noreply@blogger.com2