A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens

More of an Idiot: "I have read the beginning and the end of this book several times before, but have never made it all the way through. Until now. In case you don't know, the novel follows the story of the French Revolution through the lens of Dr. Manette, who is released from the Bastille at the beginning of the novel; Lucie, his daughter; and her eventual husband, the French aristocrat, Charles Darnay. Dickens also spends a good deal of time in France, among the peasants, who are simultaneously oppressed and bloodthirsty.

I found Dickens's narration of history very hard to get through, both because it is dense and wordy and because I am not much of a history person. I wanted to take a pen and slice out a third of the words he used. Especially when he went on about kings and aristocrats and massacres and politics. Again, though, that is in part due to my interests. On the other hand, I fell in love with his good-hearted scoundrel character (a tendency of mine), and, in general, enjoyed the plot lines and the way Dickens wove them together. Mostly though, I just feel better read for having actually worked my way through the entire novel at last."

A Visitor!

So there was this time I worked at Yosemite National Park. Actually, in a round-about way, that was how this blog started. I served on a ministry team out there. I haven't seen most of the team for three years. However, a week ago Saturday, I had a guest : one of my teammates from Yosemite came down from Pittsburgh with an Ultimate team that she coaches! We walked through the 'burg and had a slumber party, and in general enjoyed each other's company. And that's all there is to that story.

Where from Here?

I can't believe I'm still playing catch-up! Now, I am at a week ago Wednesday.

Most (if not all) of my loyal readers know me in real life, so most (if not all) of my loyal readers know that I organized CCM's first-ever career fair. We have a strong CCM at the College, but one place we have to grow is in the transition from CCM into the Real World. In all honesty, the transition from college to life is hard. For many college students, the pre-scripted life path ends with graduation from college. We've gone from elementary school to middle school to high school to college, because, well, that's what we do. After graduation however, our future opens up into one frightening blank. No matter what we do in CCM, I don't think we can make that step overarchingly easy. That doesn't mean we can't help.

I had the idea at the beginning of this year that we should educate CCMers about what one can do within the Church. A "job fair" setting seemed logical, so I reserved a room and began sending out email after email to groups I thought should have a presence. Then I started searching various resources to discover new groups. Then I started hearing back -- a lot of "no"s, but often with suggestions of more contacts. I went for everything : graduate schools, service programs, justice and peace groups, charitable organizations, religious vocations, lay ministry... Ultimately, about a dozen people came representing all these categories.

Once I had enough "yes"s from groups that I knew we would have more guests than a handful of wonderful Sisters, I started worrying that no students would come. I advertised on Facebook, got into the campus listserv, hung flyers, and reserved a poster space in the student center. It became every third sentence out of my mouth when talking to our Board.

Students came. They came from the College, as well as from one east and one west of us. (Those schools brought their campus ministers too, who liked the program!) Some good conversations were had, both at the event and at the dinner afterward. I learned some details to change, and I will leave notes from my replacement, because I want it to happen again next year. I can see this event growing and becoming something bigger and better as time goes on.

Incremental Steps

"Even this narrow exception of condom use, however, is an acknowledgment by the pope that the journey to holiness is usually a long-term process...[I]ncremental steps, which may or may not withstand moral scrutiny on their own, can reflect long-term moral growth in the context of a greater path to holiness." ~John Mattras, of Busted Halo (my emphasis)

Pope Benedict XVI's comments on condoms and AIDS have been all over the news, overshadowing anything else he spoke about in his recently released interview-book. Here is the official news from the Vatican on that book. If you've been anywhere near the internet for the past three or four days, you have heard the uproar from all sorts of people in all sorts of forums. The Busted Halo article on the subject talks about gradations of morality -- that some sins are graver than others -- which stays in line with Catholic teachings. If you want a more official perspective, the Vatican clarified what the Pope meant. And did it again, in a shorter form, if you don't have much of an attention span.

From what I understand, nothing the Pope said is horribly revolutionary, though it certainly is a new addition to the conversation about AIDS. As I commented yesterday, society likes to lose track of what things are. A condom is not objectively evil. A condom is a thing. Things in and of themselves have no moral weight. The way in which something is used has moral weight. Now the Pope distinguishes between manners of using things and surprises everyone, because even most Catholics have come to think that condoms are evil.

Pumpkin Pie

A week ago Wednesday the Freshmen Outreach team held one of CCM's most awesome events of the year: Freshmen Pie Night (made of real freshmen). In preparation I had two pie-making occasions. Tuesday night, I aided two CCM guys (a grad and a law student) in pie-baking. They contributed an apple and a key lime pie, respectively.

Monday was mine own pie day. I took one of the pumpkins that we had purchased for CCM's Halloween party and proceeded to turn it into food. By which I mean, I gutted it, pulling out the seeds and cleaning them. Then I chopped it into pieces and steamed it. After steaming it, I took the peel off and stuck it into the blender to end with pumpkin puree. I baked the seeds and used the puree to make a pie. I had gone from round, Jack-o-Lantern-to-be to FOOD!

Now comes the point where I wax metaphorical. As I was turning pumpkin into food, I was listening to beautifully twangy country music and musing over the fact that I was getting food from a pumpkin. Almost every year as a child, I helped pick out a pumpkin, and we carved it into a jack-o-lantern. In fact, every time I have purchased a pumpkin or witnessed the purchasing of a pumpkin, it has been to create a jack-o-lantern. At the same time, I have eaten pumpkin pies, pumpkin bread, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin muffins... you get the picture. Yet never had I seen the process of transformation from round, orange gourd into pulpy puree. Pumpkin to carve is a gourd. Pumpkin to eat comes from a can.

We have divorced the meaning of the food pumpkin from the plant pumpkin. This divorce is a wider problem in our society : we forget what things are in our quest for convenience. I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with canned pumpkin. Having turned a gourd into food, I now have about half a gallon of pumpkin that I need to use, and the process took a long time. Next time I cook with pumpkin, I will probably get a can -- after I use what's left of this pumpkin, of course. However, we rarely consider what our food is. When was the last time you thought about the cow that gave you your milk? The plant on which your coffee beans grew?

This approach to food might explain at least a part of America's health and obesity problems. The implications of the divorce of meaning go far beyond food, however. Most of the evils in the world can be traced back to this lack of understanding. Consider abortion. Our society can tolerate abortion because it denies the reality of what the unborn child is -- a child.

Other interpersonal evils -- the way we treat each other -- comes back to the same idea. We don't think about what our sexuality is; so we use each other. We pay no attention to our waste; so we destroy our planet. We don't think about who we are; so we accept less than what we deserve. I know it's pretty deep to go from a pumpkin, but all that was baked into the pie.

Day-Maker #13

I walked into the office this morning, having had both a birthday and a day off yesterday. My floor was covered with balloons, including a set that (when I put it together) read: "Happy birthday, Beth"! I also had a lovely card, signed by much of CCM and a glow-stick magic wand with a star on top. I'm thinking it's for board meetings.

A Gem from a Friend

Catherine, a friend who keeps a pro-life blog, posted a video that I want to share. The speaker, Stephanie Gray, offers her best argument for life.

[Note: That is my friend's real name. What? Why? If you click the link to go to her blog, as you should, you will discover her name anyway.]

Making the Case for Life: Pro-Life Apologetics from Mark Harrington on Vimeo.

Five Years in the Planning

Last weekend, Wendy came back into town for an event that we'd been planning with Julia for five years. Way back when the three of us were sophomores, we took a class on Greek Civilization with a friend from CCM. The four of us spent many evenings in our dorm room studying for tests. When we learned about symposiums -- where Greek men sat around drinking and talking about love -- we decided that this tradition should be continued, by the four of us. However, since we were all 20 at the time, it wasn't about to happen right then.

Now, five years later, Julia and I are back in the 'burg, Wendy's parents live here and she's not far away, and our friend is at a med school rotation generally in the area. Thus, we decided to carry out our symposium plans! We had a surprise guest, a mutual friend who comes back to the area that night.

Everyone pooled in with alcohol and food, and Wendy brought talking points. She also brought some old dress-up material for togas, much to the males' chagrin. Mine eventually ended up over my head more as a veil than a toga. We ended up with a very good conversation about many things related to love and dating: marriage, soul-mates, filios vs eros, etc. We offered a variety of perspectives and ended up talking later into the night than we expected.

And You Are Christ's: The Charism of Virginity and the Celibate Life, Thomas Dubay, S.M.

More of an Idiot: And You Are Christ's: The Charism of Virginity and the Celibate Life, Thomas Dubay, S.M.: "I borrowed this book from a friend who is reading it as prep for a retreat. The sub-title really tells it all. Fr. Dubay writes about people who dedicate their lives to Christ as celibates. He explains it in terms of love, self-gift, and prayer, and contrasts this approach to ideas of freedom for service. He offers the idea that virginity for Christ is a radical, rich, and loving. The virgin remains single because she is completely given to God, totally in love with Him, and can't imagine anyone else as the focus of her life. He of course goes into detail and pulls on Scripture and the saints, but that is the long and short.

I enjoyed the book, but I think that's mostly because of where I am in life right now. It's an accessible read and insightful, however, if you are interested in the topic."

And the Green Grass Grows All Around

As I mentioned in my previous post, Percy picked me up in Richmond after I spent the morning sidewalk counseling. We went from Richmond to Lawrenceville, which is essentially in the middle of nowhere. One of Percy's friends from YouthWorks (a program for which Percy and I have both worked) is on a clogging team, and they were performing at a college there.

After a lovely ride to the soundtrack of bluegrass Disney (imagine "Circle of Life" meets "Let the Circle Be Unbroken," with a lot of banjo), we arrived in Lawrenceville a good hour before Percy's friend. So he and I explored the town. All of it, on foot, in one hour.

The first shop we walked into promised "Something for everyone." I spent most of my time in the store thinking how wrong that promise was. The entire store filled two large rooms -- and by filled, I mean that every inch of the two rooms was covered with stuff. It was all second-hand, and normally I am a fan of thrift shopping. But the chaos of the organization (again, just piles), combined with the obvious age of some products (metal tubes of toothpaste? TVs that are older than me!), added to the... eclectic taste in product (large plastic lobsters, a massage machine that looked like a space ship, furry car seat-covers...) made me hesitant to touch anything. Percy and I spent quite a while wandering, gawking, laughing...

And then I found what was for me. In the midst of the chaos, I pointed at a picture and cried: "I found Jesus!" And He was there... also, there was a picture of Him.

When we were leaving the store, something else happened to make me a fan of this store. The owner stepped out to talk to us. Addressing Percy, he handed him a flyer and said, "Next time you come back, your wife will say that you should go to..." And he looked at me to finish the sentence. So apparently Percy and I are married. Um. Yeah....

We wandered around into a second-hand boutique and an apple festival that was more of a yard sale. Then we met up with Percy's friend and his fiancee for lunch, where Percy and I were again told that we were a couple. After this incident, he started telling everyone about his male roommates.

We left the restaurant and Percy's friend pulled a ukulele from his trunk, and an Irish whistle. They proceeded to play the instruments on the street while singing and dancing, until a lady came out of a store to ask if this was a preview for the show tonight. Delighted, Percy's friend said yes.

We walked the town again with Percy's friend and his fiancee. Percy and I had seen a sign for an estate sale, but I had very strong feelings about not going to it. However, when the third person of the day told me that we should go to the estate sale, I decided that it was a sign from God and we wandered over. An old building was set up very nicely as a house. Except for the random stuffed (i.e. taxidermied) bird on a stick, it wasn't morbid, and we had a good time window shopping. Percy even found a kitchen table to bring home.

We decided to bring his car back to see if the table would fit. The woman working the sale gave four random strangers her home and cell phone numbers in case she wasn't there when we got back. She told Percy that he could even take it home and send her a check in the mail. I couldn't believe the amount of trust that still exists in some parts of the world.

Luckily, after much maneuvering, we managed to fit a kitchen table and four chairs into the back of Percy's car. We left the estate sale and finally got down to the business of watching clogging.

In case you (like me until very recently) have no idea what clogging is, think contra dancing (square dancing + ballroom) meets tap dancing, and you are very close. The Celtibillies (exactly what they sound like) played, and the Green Grass Cloggers and a group of Irish dancers danced, and good times were had by all. I was highly impressed and had a blast -- plus, we had been through the town so many times that day that townspeople greeted us like friends.

After the show, Percy and I hopped back into his car and his friend and the fiancee followed us back to the 'burg. Coming from the middle of nowhere, we took mostly back roads on the venture and ended up coming at town from a new direction. The road and stars were gorgeous and I was surprised by the fact that it worked and we made it back! Sometimes, I'm just a little too much of a skeptic.

Richmond Medical Center for Women

I am playing catch-up -- it seems to be a recent pattern on this blog. I have two important stories from last Saturday that are now more than a week old.

I started Saturday with a road trip to Richmond. The Students for Life (SFL) group on campus goes to the Richmond Medical Center for Women once a month as sidewalk counselors. While I have been to pray outside of a growing handful of abortion facilities, I had never gone for the explicit purpose of sidewalk counseling. The three of us on this venture came armed with pictures of children in utero, information about the local pregnancy resource center, hand-written cards from people in SFL, and brochures on Rachel's Vineyard.

When we got to the yellow brick building, we found two women from a local church already there, each carrying a bag of information similar to ours. Their church sends someone to the facility every Saturday. They told us their basic strategy as I fingered my rosary inside my hoodie pocket. Because we can't enter the parking lot, they called to people as they got out of their cars and headed to the door, asking if they would like prayer or some information.

I spent most of our three hours there watching, running my fingers in circles in my pocket. A couple people took our information, but no one came to talk to us, and no one came to pray with us. One girl, visibly pregnant, left the same way -- and her mother looked so much happier on their way out! One man looked like he wanted to come talk to us, but the woman with him led their girl angrily into the building. So many human dramas happened in the cars as they pulled passed us, in the parking lot as we called to them, in the yellow brick building as we lost sight of them.

Just as the air of the CCM Chapel hangs heavy and thick like incense, made beautiful by the prayers of the past, so the air around the Richmond Medical Center for Women shivers with the knowledge of the nearby death, made sacred by the sorrows of the women who enter and leave each day. It's hard to explain the air around a place like that, but every abortion facility at which I have prayed has felt that way. Even Percy, who picked me up from Richmond and only stood on the sidewalk with us for a few minutes, felt it.

Whatever "it" is, it makes me aware that right there, no more than 50 yards from where I stand, is where people die. It impresses upon me the immediacy of this need. Sometimes, I can be content with the idea of "changing the hearts and minds of the people," and taking a long view of the change that needs to happen in our society. Not when I stand on the sidewalk, watching women and girls enter a building where a man will kill their children.

I know there is much work that must be done to have a society free of this evil. We must fight the battle on all fronts -- working at home to change hearts and minds, working in political process to affect laws, working in resource centers to provide help -- and standing on the sidewalk, praying for the women who bring their fears to that yellow brick building.

Part II, Take II

One of my friends said what I was trying to say, in different words and with her own stories:

http://lauraebuchanan.blogspot.com/2010/11/fear-and-sorrow.html

Day-Maker #12

A three-way Skype video chat with Ana and Percy. Partially because I am living in the future, partially because I was Skyping with someone who lives less than 5 minutes away, and mostly because they are two amazing people.

Halloween Joy

In the past 5 years, I have come up with approximately 0 Halloween costumes on my own. As the CCM Halloween Party approached, I was getting nervous -- I had to live up to three years of awesome costumes. The awesomeness, however, had been generated by the awesome roommates of my past years.

As I struggled to come up with any idea, I got a message from Wendy. As I mentioned when I posted about Homecoming, Wendy could not make it down for that weekend. So instead, she was coming to the 'burg for Halloween! She already had a costume idea : Love-birds!

Sunday afternoon, she brought felt and feathers and googley eyes to my house, and we created the costumes from red and pink hoodies. Using glue, thread, and safety pins, we covered our hoodies with hearts and feathers. Wendy sewed beaks to go on the hoods, and we placed eyes behind the beaks. We completed the ensemble with feather boas in pink and white.

We came together to the Halloween Party, where we met, among other wonderful characters, Steve from Blue's Clues (he led the entire room in song), the Catholic Spice Man (modeled after the Old Spice commercials), and three Sarahs who formed a Tri-Sarah-Tops. Much to our joy, Wendy and I won Cutest Couple in the costume contest, continuing my winning streak!

xkcd: Mu

I don't have an insightful commentary for this comic. It's just fun!

Keep Fear Alive!

I went home to my parents last Friday, in pursuit of a shirt I'd left in the laundry and some time with my parents away from Williamsburg. Since my time in the area coincided with Stephen Colbert's March to Keep Fear Alive (sorry, that's the bit I loved; I'm not so much about the Jon Stewart side of things), I had no excuse not to attend an event that I wanted to attend.

Here's the thing though: I didn't really plan ahead on, um, anything regarding this trip. I knew it started at noon. On the Mall. I knew it takes me 20 minutes to get to the Metro and less than an hour from there into the city. I knew I didn't care if I was at the back of the crowd, and I didn't care if I was a tad bit late. So I left home at 10:30.

Fail plan. Traffic was backed up three miles before the exit for the Metro, based on the light cycles off the exit. Just to give you an idea of how crowded it was. The line to purchase farecards stretched through the station, across the bridge, into the parking deck, outside into the sunlight. The standing room in my Metro car was filled by the time we left the second station. I didn't make it into the city until 1:30. I spent 3 hours on a journey that should not take more than 1.5 hours.

When I got into the city, I followed streams of people coming in just as late as I was, held up by the same traffic. I walked around, looking at snarky signs and hilarious costumes... and offensive signs and offensive costumes. I pushed my way through a variety of crowds, attempting to find a friend whom I was supposed to meet. Text and phone calls wouldn't go through. Eventually I gave up and wandered the outskirts, catching bits and pieces of the rally speeches and music as I walked past speakers. So I enjoyed the "Legalize Pot" signs and the anti-Christine O'Donnell and the people dressed as Jesus and bears and holding fake tea parties. Then I caught the Metro at Capitol South, a few stops ahead of where the masses of ralliers got on, and headed south again.

At one point, I hopped off the change lines, and a man waiting for the same train asked if I'd been to the rally. Which set the stage for a conversation with him all the way home. It was a very random conversation, and a little awkward as he mentioned failed Match.com dates and glanced at my hand (I wear a ring on my left ring finger; I think it helped me out here). However, the overall impression I got was that he's rather lonely. He was glad to find someone else who went to the rally alone, and I hope our conversation brightened his day a little. It made me laugh, which always brightens my day.

Part II

I've changed my mind. There is no part II. Stay tuned for posts about the Colbert/Stewart rally, Halloween, and other tidbits of my life.

Day-Maker #11

To break up some of the heavy stuff...

About 60 seconds after Percy and I parted ways at midnight last night, he called me, asking if I like doughnuts. Two minutes later, he showed up on my doorstep with doughnuts tied to strings, apparently part of his payment for a juggling gig. Also, part of my breakfast this morning.

Part I

I have a lot of catching up to do on here, and we'll see how it goes. I like to do things in chronological order, so that means it'll take a few posts before I catch up to the present for occasions such as the Colbert/Stewart rally and Halloween. However, the things on my mind that will come out are not exactly cheery topics.

A couple weeks ago, a student at the College took her own life. It is a tragedy that shook the College. As John Donne wrote,

No man is an island,

Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main....

Each man's death diminishes me,

For I am involved in mankind.

It is even more true that we are a part of each other, when, as I recently wrote, the College has such a strong community. We are united as more than humanity; we are united as the College.

I want to go two places with this, so please indulge me in two less-than-happy posts.

I first found out about the tragedy from a friends G-Chat status, reading, "Take care of one another, Tribe," followed by a link to the article in the local newspaper. In subsequent discussions, the idea came up that we as a society have forgotten how to take care of each other.

I run some mornings, and a few days ago as I was running I saw a plastic bag blowing across a yard. I thought about picking it up, decided that I didn't want to run across a neighbor's (wet) grass, and went on. For a few more steps. Then I changed my mind. I decided that I wanted to be That Girl, and I often am not. I wanted to be That Girl who picks up plastic bags blowing across yards. Who smiles at strangers. Who makes overworked cashiers laugh, or at least breath a little more easily. Who sees the beauty in others and speaks it to their faces. And thinking about being That Girl does not make me her. It makes me someone who thinks about being her.

How many people go through life considering being That Girl or That Guy? Seeing people who maybe could use one extra smile, one extra hug, one extra kind word... and don't want to step on a neighbor's lawn. And yet, the prospect of making the world a better place should motivate us to take that extra step. After all, we all do have a responsibility for each other. This idea is obscured by our society's views of independence and, I think, promoted by our over-commitment to tolerance, which too often translates into "leave other people alone."

When we "leave other people alone," however, we... well, we do just that. When we remove ourselves from other people's lives and problems, we step back from where they need us most. Of course, not everyone needs every other person poking his or her nose everywhere. However, we all need shoulders on which to lean, ears which will listen, hearts onto which we can unburden ourselves. After all, who wants to be left alone to face the world? I, for one, could not take it on alone.

In the wake of the recent suicide, I have heard a lot of talk about how we need to take care of each other. The first step is to realize that we can't just "leave other people alone." We need others. Life without people who care, both best friends and random strangers, is empty.

Final note: I want to echo the words of Monsignor, who said Mass the Sunday after. He emphasized that if you are feeling trapped, lost, backed into a corner, do not give up. Do not despair. There is always, always someone there for you. If that means calling me at any moment, do not hesitate. If that means being in touch with someone better able to help you than I, do not hesitate. Here is a place to start: http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ (1-800-273-TALK (8255)).