I am falling behind everywhere in life, and it wasn't until I went to post last night that I realized just how far behind I am here! My apologies to my loyal readers. Here is the rest of my spring break story:
*A lot of my adventures in STL had to do with food or coffee or tea. Ana and I visited our old haunt, Kayak's Coffee, which is much more pleasant at 9am than 6:30am. I caught up with my former boss at another coffee shop and studied with Em at a third. And by "studied," I mean we both did enough reading to justify talking about life, school, boys, and feminism for most of the time. We visited a cute retro diner with homemade catsup and old-fashioned soda and a gelateria (poor choice to give up sweets for Lent!)
*Ana and I spent a good deal of time looking for a bridesmaid dress: she is in Meemaw's wedding this fall. We finally found one through Pintrest of all places!
*Em and I went for lots of walks, including to the zoo and a park near her and Byrd's new house. They live in an intentional community in a house that resembles our old volunteer house. Apparently, there was a time when that's how they built nun houses.
*Em and Byrd live next door to an adult day-care with a chapel that holds Adoration weekly -- which happened to coincide with the time I was at their house. So Em and I stopped in to say hi to Jesus. Only when I walked in and saw the monstrance with the San Damiano crucifix in the background did I realize how much I missed having Adoration available literally all the time, as well as meditating on that cross.
*I drove by the school where Ana and I volunteered, although I did not stop in. I was going to, but I chickened out about contacting anyone there. During the drive, I discovered the power of classical conditioning: as soon as I saw the building two blocks down from our school, I got this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that was exactly the same as how I felt getting out of Ana's car each day during my VSC year.
*I got used to living with Ana way too fast. It made it hard to leave. Ana and I dreamed up a small business plan. If it goes into action, I'll leave the world of theology and come to Saint Louis to make it real with Ana. I know it's a castle in the air, but it was fun to dream up. And I love that city and even more those girls!
*I hate leaving people and places that I love.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
A Proper Understanding of Chivalry
On walking me to my destination after dark: "I'll walk you there, so that you don't attack anyone."
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Old Friends Are New Friends
Monday, I made it out to the Cathedral Basilica for Mass. It contains the largest collection of mosaics under one roof. I took the tour at least twice while living in St. Louis and could spend hours gazing at the ceiling. Monday, I glanced up during Mass and to my surprise discovered some new-old faces.
St. Gregory the Great and St. Athanasius stared down at me from their tiled arches. I hadn't known their stories before this year, but now I have read their works and about their lives. St. Ambrose was more familiar, and St. Francis closer. It's nice to see that I am learning things and meeting new people at school.
St. Gregory the Great and St. Athanasius stared down at me from their tiled arches. I hadn't known their stories before this year, but now I have read their works and about their lives. St. Ambrose was more familiar, and St. Francis closer. It's nice to see that I am learning things and meeting new people at school.
Back to Big Bend
I spent the past week taking my first real spring break -- flying off somewhere to carouse in the sun with friends. My sunny destination: Saint Louis! (Which, incidentally, put on some lovely beach weather for me.) Ana and Byrd live out there, doing the grown-up thing, and Em is at nursing school. I had a week off with no commitments; how could I pass up the chance to see them again?
Ana and her boy picked me up from the airport Saturday. We flitted around the city for the night, making a stop at her boy's apartment, one of the downtown lofts I'd always both loved and hated. From having been inside, the love has gone up, though I am still not sold on living downtown. They showed me the best veggie burgers in the city, and we saw The Artist (a great black and white, silent film, that should be seen on a big screen if possible).
Sunday we went to Mass at Wash U, reminding me that there are Masses that are not a Steubenville experience. After brunch, we dropped Ana's boy off at the airport and went to comfort ourselves with chocolate from her place of employment: Kakao Chocolate. Life advice: eat lavender flavored things, especially if such things are chocolates.
We then had birthday adventures for Byrd, including paint-your-own-pottery, Mexican food, and Footloose (the new one). So basically quality time with Ana, Em, and Byrd. Although we've all changed since our Vincentian Service Corps year, some things are still the same, and I was right at home again with 4 of the 6 Pack.
Ana and her boy picked me up from the airport Saturday. We flitted around the city for the night, making a stop at her boy's apartment, one of the downtown lofts I'd always both loved and hated. From having been inside, the love has gone up, though I am still not sold on living downtown. They showed me the best veggie burgers in the city, and we saw The Artist (a great black and white, silent film, that should be seen on a big screen if possible).
Sunday we went to Mass at Wash U, reminding me that there are Masses that are not a Steubenville experience. After brunch, we dropped Ana's boy off at the airport and went to comfort ourselves with chocolate from her place of employment: Kakao Chocolate. Life advice: eat lavender flavored things, especially if such things are chocolates.
We then had birthday adventures for Byrd, including paint-your-own-pottery, Mexican food, and Footloose (the new one). So basically quality time with Ana, Em, and Byrd. Although we've all changed since our Vincentian Service Corps year, some things are still the same, and I was right at home again with 4 of the 6 Pack.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Day-Maker #60
Running through Forest Park in St. Louis, I saw a dad with a stroller -- pushing it as he roller-bladed along to bike path.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
In Which I Am Called a Harlot
In both St. Louis and NoVA, I experienced counter-protesters during my pro-life efforts. Their anger, volume, and proximity varied, but they never fazed me too much. I know I am doing something controversial and counter-cultural. If my stance were accepted, I wouldn't be praying outside an abortion facility.
In Pittsburgh, I found someone completely new. He is pro-life (and Catholic) as his sign and crucifix declare. However, he directs the majority of his temporal and vocal resources toward our prayer circles, not anyone associated with the abortion facility (client, employee, volunteer). The modern liturgy, women in pants, communion in the hand, priests out of cassocks, women reading in Mass, communion while standing, women with heads uncovered, and Protestant hymns cause abortion.
The first time he turned on us, it shook me and threw my prayer. Then I decided that I would rather have his voice turned against me than the women coming into the clinic. We want to show love, so I wanted all the anger directed at me. I added him to my prayers, especially when I discovered that some of the anger comes from mental problems.
More recently, he has started to accuse us pants-wearing, head-uncovered women of being "harlots" and emasculating men. For the first time, I got upset at his comments. I was with some awesome men that day, some of the men who keep me from becoming bitter and cynical. That same day, I talked to some of the men -- and discovered that they was dealing okay with the yelling, until we were called harlots. That wasn't something I minded too much -- in fact, my tiny rebel side kind of enjoyed it. Which is something I need to work on, along with memorizing the Peace Prayer of St. Francis.
In Pittsburgh, I found someone completely new. He is pro-life (and Catholic) as his sign and crucifix declare. However, he directs the majority of his temporal and vocal resources toward our prayer circles, not anyone associated with the abortion facility (client, employee, volunteer). The modern liturgy, women in pants, communion in the hand, priests out of cassocks, women reading in Mass, communion while standing, women with heads uncovered, and Protestant hymns cause abortion.
The first time he turned on us, it shook me and threw my prayer. Then I decided that I would rather have his voice turned against me than the women coming into the clinic. We want to show love, so I wanted all the anger directed at me. I added him to my prayers, especially when I discovered that some of the anger comes from mental problems.
More recently, he has started to accuse us pants-wearing, head-uncovered women of being "harlots" and emasculating men. For the first time, I got upset at his comments. I was with some awesome men that day, some of the men who keep me from becoming bitter and cynical. That same day, I talked to some of the men -- and discovered that they was dealing okay with the yelling, until we were called harlots. That wasn't something I minded too much -- in fact, my tiny rebel side kind of enjoyed it. Which is something I need to work on, along with memorizing the Peace Prayer of St. Francis.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Our Bodies, Our Selves
In some ways, the timing of my visit to St. Anthony's Chapel was perfect. Dr. Hildebrand had just touched on relics in my Historical Foundations course. He compared the modern Catholic view of relics to the medieval mindset. Well, mostly he presented the medieval mindset with a brief "and we're not so intense now" summary of the modern mindset.
A brief definition, for anyone unfamiliar: a relic is an object made holy by being or being close to a holy person. Mostly, they are pieces of the bodies of saints (hair, bones, etc.) or pieces of saints' clothing, although relics comes in a great variety of forms.
In the Middle Ages, relics were a huge deal. To the modern mind, the body and soul are separate and the true self resides with the soul. Really, there is no such split, and an awareness of this caused medieval devotion to relics to flourish. Because relics are a part of a saint, something of their great sanctity was thought to cling to the person's body after death. And everyone wanted a piece of that holiness. This lead to some crazy stuff and is why you can find some saints with different body parts (hands, feet, tongues, heads) in different places.
It might sound crazy, but in some ways it reflects an understanding of who we are as people. We are not bodies that happen to contain souls or souls that happen to be trapped in bodies. We are a composite of body and soul, created and complete only with the two together. When God wanted to become like us, He took on a human body and a human soul. When, at the end of time, we (God willing) receive eternal life, we will have glorified bodies. Or rather, we will receive back our bodies, glorified.
While the medievals may have taken relic-devotion to the extreme, they didn't have it all wrong. And they didn't fall victim to the false body-soul dichotomy that affects our world. But that is another topic, for another day, should I figure out how to do it well without ranting.
A brief definition, for anyone unfamiliar: a relic is an object made holy by being or being close to a holy person. Mostly, they are pieces of the bodies of saints (hair, bones, etc.) or pieces of saints' clothing, although relics comes in a great variety of forms.
In the Middle Ages, relics were a huge deal. To the modern mind, the body and soul are separate and the true self resides with the soul. Really, there is no such split, and an awareness of this caused medieval devotion to relics to flourish. Because relics are a part of a saint, something of their great sanctity was thought to cling to the person's body after death. And everyone wanted a piece of that holiness. This lead to some crazy stuff and is why you can find some saints with different body parts (hands, feet, tongues, heads) in different places.
It might sound crazy, but in some ways it reflects an understanding of who we are as people. We are not bodies that happen to contain souls or souls that happen to be trapped in bodies. We are a composite of body and soul, created and complete only with the two together. When God wanted to become like us, He took on a human body and a human soul. When, at the end of time, we (God willing) receive eternal life, we will have glorified bodies. Or rather, we will receive back our bodies, glorified.
While the medievals may have taken relic-devotion to the extreme, they didn't have it all wrong. And they didn't fall victim to the false body-soul dichotomy that affects our world. But that is another topic, for another day, should I figure out how to do it well without ranting.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Refuge in the City
During our afternoon tour of Pittsburgh, Percy and I stopped at St. Anthony's Chapel. It houses the largest public collection of relics in the world. With a claim like that, I thought the place would be a huge, cathedral-like church... not a tiny little chapel tucked up in a neighborhood at the top of a hill. We missed the last tour, so had the chance to poke around ourselves. On one hand, I do not recommend self-guided poking if you make it the St. Anthony's. The collection of relics consists of tiny fragments of barely-labeled material sanctity, cataloged in a binder that cross-references in a confusing plethora of ways, but never quite tells you what you want to know. Most of the time, I didn't know which holy person to associate with which speck of something-on-gold.
On the other hand, I would highly recommend at least some self-guided poking. A tour would have clarified things, but it also would have disrupted the feeling of absolute awe in the chapel. I knew there that I walked "surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses," saints whose stories I knew and saints whose names I'd never heard, saints who lived thousands of years ago and saints almost within today's memory. In the midst of the busy city, we found a place suffused with peace and holiness. It reminded me of the perpetual adoration chapel that an order of nuns runs in St. Louis, and I couldn't help thinking that the little chapel must do immeasurable good for the city. I'm also hoping, based on some subsequent conversations I've had with God, that it might do some good for me soul too.
Later posts coming up include some thoughts on relics and more about fasting/sacrifice. I seem to be going pretty God-focused this Lent, which might not be a bad thing.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
A Few More Thoughts on the HHS Mandate
The thoughts will keep coming until something changes. Here is a good article on notions of freedom in relation to the mandate. The essential point is that not providing a subsidy is not the same as taking away a freedom. No one is taking away anyone's right to contracept. Just the obligation for someone else to pay for that right.
Also food for thought: Here is a chart describing the problems with the Guttmacher study that claims 98% of Catholic women use contraception. Two points of caution about this. 1) I have not looked closely at the math, so I don't know that the chart uses stats properly. I simply like the flaws that it points out in the study. 2) Really, it doesn't matter what percentage of Catholic women use contraception. Pick a sin -- I'm sure some percentage of Catholics commit it. For a lot of sins, I add to that figure! That doesn't make it right. It makes Catholics flawed human beings in need of some help. Maybe in the form of a Savior?
Also food for thought: Here is a chart describing the problems with the Guttmacher study that claims 98% of Catholic women use contraception. Two points of caution about this. 1) I have not looked closely at the math, so I don't know that the chart uses stats properly. I simply like the flaws that it points out in the study. 2) Really, it doesn't matter what percentage of Catholic women use contraception. Pick a sin -- I'm sure some percentage of Catholics commit it. For a lot of sins, I add to that figure! That doesn't make it right. It makes Catholics flawed human beings in need of some help. Maybe in the form of a Savior?
The More Things Change
Percy came into town this weekend. He met me in Pittsburgh as our prayer at the abortion facility ended and we took on the town. By which I mean we found the nearest Starbucks, as I was in desperate need of caffeine. From Starbucks, we took a trip down to the Strip District. (A strip of shops, restaurants, and vendors.) The venture from Starbucks to the Strip District should not have been as adventurous as it was, but it turned into a battle of wits between Percy and his GPS app. As it turns out, Percy knows how to get from point A to point B if you don't need to stay on roads. When we could see our goal but no way to cut across the railroad tracks, he agreed to follow the GPS. If we had been in an SUV commercial, we would not have had to do so.
The Strip District was filled with loud vendors, lively shoppers, and too many food smells for a hungry vegetarian to manage. Also enough Steelers love to inspire fear in me, even if I were not already anti-Steelers. Although I was overwhelmed, I am also a little in love and want to go back, grab a cup of coffee, and people-watch for hours.
From the Strip District, we visited Roberto Clemente outside of the ball park. I'm still not quite sure why, but it was one of the things on Percy's list. It turns out that his hand is the right height to rest on my head when I am standing straight. Not sure what means, but it made me smile.
Next, we headed toward the Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pittsburgh, but a series of unfortunate traffic and constructions events led us instead off track on our way to St. Anthony's Chapel. St. Anthony's holds the largest public collection of relics in the world and will receive its own post. After St. Anthony's, we stopped by a parking garage where The Next Three Days was filmed to pay brief homage before trying again for the Cathedral of Learning. This time we made it, but the cool rooms were closed. So we went up to the top floors to enjoy the view.
Next, we strove for another awesome view -- riding the Incline up Mt Washington. Once again, the roads were against us, and when we inadvertently ended up on the other side of the mountains, we just headed back to Steubes. With only a few minor detours, we succeeded in making it to the Festival of Praise and then out to dessert with a mutual Steuby friend.
The day ended, in true Percy form: an awkward conversation with Shelly that resulted in mutual good feeling between them and an inability to deal with the hilarity of the moment on my part.
The Strip District was filled with loud vendors, lively shoppers, and too many food smells for a hungry vegetarian to manage. Also enough Steelers love to inspire fear in me, even if I were not already anti-Steelers. Although I was overwhelmed, I am also a little in love and want to go back, grab a cup of coffee, and people-watch for hours.
From the Strip District, we visited Roberto Clemente outside of the ball park. I'm still not quite sure why, but it was one of the things on Percy's list. It turns out that his hand is the right height to rest on my head when I am standing straight. Not sure what means, but it made me smile.
Next, we headed toward the Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pittsburgh, but a series of unfortunate traffic and constructions events led us instead off track on our way to St. Anthony's Chapel. St. Anthony's holds the largest public collection of relics in the world and will receive its own post. After St. Anthony's, we stopped by a parking garage where The Next Three Days was filmed to pay brief homage before trying again for the Cathedral of Learning. This time we made it, but the cool rooms were closed. So we went up to the top floors to enjoy the view.
Next, we strove for another awesome view -- riding the Incline up Mt Washington. Once again, the roads were against us, and when we inadvertently ended up on the other side of the mountains, we just headed back to Steubes. With only a few minor detours, we succeeded in making it to the Festival of Praise and then out to dessert with a mutual Steuby friend.
The day ended, in true Percy form: an awkward conversation with Shelly that resulted in mutual good feeling between them and an inability to deal with the hilarity of the moment on my part.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Day-Maker #59
Thom's utter delight and pride in shaving Brother Bear's head. Do my friends have child-like hearts? I think yes!
On Giving Up
Google Reader is a beautiful thing -- not only does it help me follow friends' blogs, but I keep up with other sites via Reader. Busted Halo normally makes my heart happy, even if they are not always as strongly Catholic as I would prefer. Their message adds a positive voice to the world of the internet, a sorely needed addition.
Their features include "You Don't Know Jack," videos where a priest takes to the streets of New York, asking random people pertinent Catholic trivia (an oxymoron, I know). The videos are generally good for a few laughs and a quick impression of how people see the Church's life. However, this video hurt my heart a just a little:
The priest explains the Church's practices well, but misses the mark when giving the mindset behind them. Why do we fast? Why do we give things up? Sure, sacrificing for others is noble, and I would encourage (especially myself) to remember to sacrifice both in ways that directly benefit others and in ways that build solidarity.
Yet to say that we fast simply (or primarily) for the sake of others obscures the beauty of our Lenten sacrifice. We fast (and perform other acts of sacrifice) to detach ourselves from things of this world and thereby fix our eyes more firmly on heaven. We fast to strip away everything on this earth that is not essential, even if it is good, so that we will long for only what is above this earth, what is the greatest and ultimate good. We fast to bring ourselves to the foot of the cross, because only there are we close enough to Christ to stay faithfully as His side through His death and to His resurrection.
Without this understanding, sacrifices (especially prescribed ones, such as abstaining from meat on certain days) don't really make sense. Why give up a good that does no harm to anyone? We give up the good to make room for the Best, to get rid of the clutter of the little goods that distract us from the Ultimate, Who should also be our Only.
I could go on about Catholic fasting and other spiritual benefits, such as discipline and self control, but I need to exercise those virtues and study. If you have thoughts or anecdotes about sacrifices and fasting, please add them below!
Their features include "You Don't Know Jack," videos where a priest takes to the streets of New York, asking random people pertinent Catholic trivia (an oxymoron, I know). The videos are generally good for a few laughs and a quick impression of how people see the Church's life. However, this video hurt my heart a just a little:
Yet to say that we fast simply (or primarily) for the sake of others obscures the beauty of our Lenten sacrifice. We fast (and perform other acts of sacrifice) to detach ourselves from things of this world and thereby fix our eyes more firmly on heaven. We fast to strip away everything on this earth that is not essential, even if it is good, so that we will long for only what is above this earth, what is the greatest and ultimate good. We fast to bring ourselves to the foot of the cross, because only there are we close enough to Christ to stay faithfully as His side through His death and to His resurrection.
Without this understanding, sacrifices (especially prescribed ones, such as abstaining from meat on certain days) don't really make sense. Why give up a good that does no harm to anyone? We give up the good to make room for the Best, to get rid of the clutter of the little goods that distract us from the Ultimate, Who should also be our Only.
I could go on about Catholic fasting and other spiritual benefits, such as discipline and self control, but I need to exercise those virtues and study. If you have thoughts or anecdotes about sacrifices and fasting, please add them below!
Playing Catch-Up
I'm not sure what has happened in life recently, but it for-sure has not been blogging. I have a few posts floating around in my head, from life-updates to food-for-thought. Over the next few days, I'll get some of them up here. They won't be in chronological order, for which I apologize. I like this blog to read like a story, but in order to get caught up, I need to write and ignore my compulsive-editor impulses.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
The Sound of Silence
My car makes strange noises. I don't know how many people ride around in their cars in silence, but this funny thing happens on a car ride: the car makes noises.
When I have my music turned up and am "singing" the lyrics at an embarrassing volume, I don't hear noises. I don't hear my engine when I accelerate, my wipers when it rains outside, my defroster blasting the windshield at 6am. Or, if I do hear the sounds, they are so much the background that they don't matter.
Turn off the music and all of a sudden the sounds of my car take the forefront of my auditory perceptions.
I can hear 1.5 of my 3 loyal readers asking, "But, Beth, why would you ever drive in silence?" (At which point I ask myself: "Which of them is only half-speaking to me?") I drive in silence because in the past few weeks I finally got the hint from God that I need more silence in my life. Recently, the Pope has been speaking about the need for silence in the spiritual life, and I have encountered everything from old saints to new bloggers who are encouraging silence as more than part of prayer, but as a habit of life.
I decided to start placing deliberate silence in my life in the car. I'll remember to keep silence as I drive, and my mind won't be racing from one task to the next, the way it is when I am alone in my apartment. So I flip off the radio at least once a day and spend some quality quiet time with my copilot.
A funny thing happens when I go through life with silence: I make strange noises. (Okay, get your laughs out before you read on.) Not the audible kind, but the background noises that sit in the unobtrusive parts of my life. Most of the time I can ignore these parts of me, because there are so many other noises that take loud precedents.
I thought I was going to use the time of silence to get to know God better. Instead, He is using the time to show me more about myself. Which, I should have known, is part of the journey. The learning process will help me grow closer to God. And then, once I get to know my internal noises, I will be able to let them sit quiet while I sit with Him.
When I have my music turned up and am "singing" the lyrics at an embarrassing volume, I don't hear noises. I don't hear my engine when I accelerate, my wipers when it rains outside, my defroster blasting the windshield at 6am. Or, if I do hear the sounds, they are so much the background that they don't matter.
Turn off the music and all of a sudden the sounds of my car take the forefront of my auditory perceptions.
I can hear 1.5 of my 3 loyal readers asking, "But, Beth, why would you ever drive in silence?" (At which point I ask myself: "Which of them is only half-speaking to me?") I drive in silence because in the past few weeks I finally got the hint from God that I need more silence in my life. Recently, the Pope has been speaking about the need for silence in the spiritual life, and I have encountered everything from old saints to new bloggers who are encouraging silence as more than part of prayer, but as a habit of life.
I decided to start placing deliberate silence in my life in the car. I'll remember to keep silence as I drive, and my mind won't be racing from one task to the next, the way it is when I am alone in my apartment. So I flip off the radio at least once a day and spend some quality quiet time with my copilot.
A funny thing happens when I go through life with silence: I make strange noises. (Okay, get your laughs out before you read on.) Not the audible kind, but the background noises that sit in the unobtrusive parts of my life. Most of the time I can ignore these parts of me, because there are so many other noises that take loud precedents.
I thought I was going to use the time of silence to get to know God better. Instead, He is using the time to show me more about myself. Which, I should have known, is part of the journey. The learning process will help me grow closer to God. And then, once I get to know my internal noises, I will be able to let them sit quiet while I sit with Him.
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