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.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
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.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Fasting and Suchnot
Every Lent I hit a curious dilemma. As Christians, we are told to pray and fast in secret, so that no one sees what we do. Keeping a balance between private devotion and public witness presents a constant conundrum. Ash Wednesday, with the mark of my Catholicism on my forehead, crystallizes the problem. If my left hand doesn't know what my right hand does, how can my life be a witness? More to the point in Lent, if my Lenten devotion is a private matter between my God and myself, how do I answer people who ask me what I am "doing for Lent"?
In the past few years, I've done my best to blow off the question, giving half answers or outright avoiding it (if possible). This year, however, I realized how much I wanted to hear other people's sacrifices -- to be encouraged and inspired by their choices. As I listened to people share, I discovered that they would do so with simplicity and humility. Giving the simple truth of their sacrifice, not bragging about their spirituality. It still doesn't answer all my questions about balance, but it helps.
In other Lenten commentary, the debate still rages over giving something up versus taking something up. For readers not familiar with the tradition, in Lent Catholics make some sort of a sacrifice for the 40 days before Easter. We choose what to do, and it ranges from full-out fasts to giving up swearing to refraining from chocolate. However, some people advocate taking up a devotion instead of giving something up -- maybe starting to read Scripture daily or hitting up an extra Mass each week.
Somehow this week I got caught in a very intense defense of taking up rather than giving up. While I understand the desire to amp up one's devotional life, I see an incredible value to sacrifice that is way too often overlooked in our society. Sacrificing a comfort that is not inherently evil but which binds us to this world creates an incredible freedom. We begin to focus on what really matters and leave behind those things that, while good, are ultimately unimportant. The Lenten practices that I have most admired involve replacement: making a sacrifice and taking up a habit of holiness.
In the past few years, I've done my best to blow off the question, giving half answers or outright avoiding it (if possible). This year, however, I realized how much I wanted to hear other people's sacrifices -- to be encouraged and inspired by their choices. As I listened to people share, I discovered that they would do so with simplicity and humility. Giving the simple truth of their sacrifice, not bragging about their spirituality. It still doesn't answer all my questions about balance, but it helps.
In other Lenten commentary, the debate still rages over giving something up versus taking something up. For readers not familiar with the tradition, in Lent Catholics make some sort of a sacrifice for the 40 days before Easter. We choose what to do, and it ranges from full-out fasts to giving up swearing to refraining from chocolate. However, some people advocate taking up a devotion instead of giving something up -- maybe starting to read Scripture daily or hitting up an extra Mass each week.
Somehow this week I got caught in a very intense defense of taking up rather than giving up. While I understand the desire to amp up one's devotional life, I see an incredible value to sacrifice that is way too often overlooked in our society. Sacrificing a comfort that is not inherently evil but which binds us to this world creates an incredible freedom. We begin to focus on what really matters and leave behind those things that, while good, are ultimately unimportant. The Lenten practices that I have most admired involve replacement: making a sacrifice and taking up a habit of holiness.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
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