St. Austin Review: Reclaiming Culture

March 9th, 2010A Distributist Dittyby Joseph Pearce

This hilarious video has already been viewed by almost three million viewers so there's a good chance that many visitors to this site will have see seen it already. For those who have not seen Tim Hawkins' "The Government Can", now's your opportunity. It will make you chuckle and will warm the cockles of your distributist heart.

Tim Hawkins - The Government Can: 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LO2eh6f5Go0&feature=related

March 8th, 2010Anglican Nonsenseby Joseph Pearce

Father Dwight Longenecker, one of StAR's regular columnists, has just published this superb article in The Times Online attacking the latest manifestation of Anglican nonsense. Fr. Longenecker is a true pugilist for Christ in the Bellocian mode. No wonder he writes for StAR!!


From Times Online
March 4, 2010


Is there any such thing as a "Catholic-minded Anglican?"


Lord Harries of Pentregarth's description of himself is a contradiction in terms, argues an ex-Anglican vicar who is now a Catholic priest

Father Dwight Longenecker

In an article http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/comment/columnists/guest_contributors/article7044596.ece  for this newspaper, and in the Spectator debate this week Lord Harries of Pentregarth informs us that he is a 'Catholic minded Anglican' and has sometimes thought of becoming a Catholic but has resisted the temptation because the "Anglican Church is the part of the Catholic Church which is open to the future." He then goes on to refer to Cardinal Newman's famous essay on the Development of Doctrine to justify Anglican innovations such as women's ordination, same sex marriages, in vitro fertilization and by implication abortion.

As a former Anglican priest, now a Catholic priest it would be remiss of me to allow the former Bishop of Oxford to get away with such shoddy thinking and such a poor grasp of reality.

Lord Pentregarth patronises Catholics by painting us as hidebound Luddites, stuck in the past and fossilised in the mud of our own dogma and out-of-date moral code. The Catholic Church has not stuck to a Christian moral code simply because she cannot be bothered to think through the modern challenges. Pope John Paul II's theology of the body presents a sound philosophical and anthropological basis for Catholic moral teaching on human sexuality. Catholics have also explained clearly and cogently the profound theological reasons why priesthood continues to be reserved to men. Bishop Harries, however, gives no indication that he has studied these current and cogent Catholic arguments, nor does he give us the courtesy of addressing them seriously. Instead he dismisses them with a subjective wave of the hand, some smooth utlitarianism and a touch of ecclesiastical name dropping, "Arguments against the ordination of women to the episcopate and priesthood" he says, "have always seemed to me unpersuasive, as they were to the late Metropolitan Anthony of Sourozh, head of the Russian Orthodox Church in Great Britain (though he could not say this publicly). The benefits brought by women in ministry in the Church of England are manifest."

We are told that the Anglican Church is the church of the future. Is it possible that the former Bishop of Oxford is ignorant of the demographics of the future church? Can he possibly be unaware that (along with the Pentecostals) the Catholic Church is the largest, fastest growing and youngest Christian Church in the world? Has he missed the point that even in his own church it is the African Anglicans who are young, strong, bright and dismissive of his liberal agenda for women bishops, homosexual marriage and abortion? The Church of England the church of the future? Hardly.


The definition of a Catholic is quite straightforward: he is a Christian who is in full communion with the Bishop of Rome. Lord Harries goes all fuzzy and informs us that he is a 'Catholic minded Anglican'. Is he aware of how much his suave high church liberalism rankles with ordinary Catholics? Oxford Anglicans who assure us in their dry sherry accents that they are 'Anglican Catholics' don't seem to realize what meaningless nonsense they speak. I have now met Protestants of every denomination who regard themselves as 'Catholic'. here in the United States where the Christian religion is varied, individualistic and amazingly pluriform I have met Methodists who inform me proudly that they are 'very Catholic' and Bible Christians who say, "We're liturgical Baptists'. One Sunday I met a very sweet old lady after Mass who assured me that she was a "Presbyterian Catholic". She can be excused for such sentimental and endearing nonsense. Someone of the caliber of Lord Pentregarth should know better.


Finally, we cannot let it go unremarked that Bishop Harries is eager to claim Cardinal Newman as one of his own. Newman's essay on the Development of Doctrine is a seminal, nuanced and powerful piece of theological writing. The essay's essential point is that the Christian faith can develop in understanding, but not in a way that contradicts the core teaching of the Apostles. Instead of any intellectual argument, Bishop Harries grabs the title of Newman's essay, and uses it, and Newman's reputation as a propaganda piece to bolster innovations in the Church of England which would have astounded and scandalized Newman. Is it possible that a person of Bishop Harries learning and experience is blind to the fact that Newman's whole spiritual journey was a repudiation of the kind of Oxford, hoity toity faux Catholicism that Bishop Harries represents?

Can Bishop Harries really have missed the entire point of Cardinal Newman's pilgrimage to Rome? Does he not see that the great man stepped down from the heights of his career in Oxford and in the Church of England to take the very step into the Catholic Church that Bishop Harries sneers at?

Lord Pentregarth is honest in choosing not to become a Catholic, but if he does not want to be a Catholic why does he keep masquerading as one? Most of all he should resist the temptation to kidnap a figure as great and good as Cardinal Newman and hold him to ransom for his own progressivist agenda.

Father Dwight Longenecker, a former priest of the Church of England, is the editor of The Path to Rome http://www.dwightlongenecker.com/Content/Pages/Books/ThePathToRome.asp , published by Gracewing. He is now a Catholic priest and serves as Chaplain of St Joseph's Catholic School in Greenville, South Carolina.

March 8th, 2010A Rare Talentby Joseph Pearce

I don't watch reality television, not least because it's not reality. My understanding of shows like Britain's Got Talent is that they are full of bad or mediocre talent being sneered at and insulted by sadistic critics. I was, however, stunned at the seemingly incongrous brilliance of the Scottish lass, Susan Boyle, whose appearance on the aforementioned show reached a global audience via YouTube. If you haven't seen this, check it out. It's truly astonishing and powerfully uplifting.

The video below shows the winner of " Ukraine's Got Talent",  Kseniya Simonova, 24,  drawing a series of pictures on an illuminated sand table showing how ordinary people were affected by the horrors of World War II.  Her talent, which admittedly is a strange one, is mesmeric to watch..

http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=vOhf3OvRXKg

March 4th, 2010Walmart Goes Localby Joseph Pearce

A good friend has just sent me the following link to an article in Atlantic Magazine:

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2010/03/the-great-grocery-smackdown/7904/

With regard to the article, I have two general observations:

On the specific level of sourcing locally and organically produced food, I am delighted to learn that Walmart is following the market trends towards localism and towards food that is healthier for both the consumer and the environment. It is to be commended for this initiative.

On the more general level, Walmart's policy of sourcing its manufactured products almost entirely from the pacific rim in general and China in particular has had, and continues to have, a disastrous effect on the longterm health of the US economy. I think an anecdote told to me by a friend says it all: He took his children to Walmart and let them loose in the toy department, telling them they could have anything they could find that was made in the USA. After ten minutes, the deflated children came back with only one US-made item, which, ironically, was a US flag!

The systematic exporting of America's manufacturing base to China and other Asian countries, fuelled by Walmart, will mean, in the longterm, that US citizens will have much less money to shop in Walmart or anywhere else.

So, hurrah for Walmart on the local level, but hisses all round for its pernicious role globally.

March 4th, 2010Belloc and Mel Gibson; Blair and R. H. Bensonby Joseph Pearce

The irrepressibly controversial Mel Gibson has been giving advice to today's politicians: "Political leaders ought to read Hilaire Belloc," he stated in an interview with the UK's Daily Mail. Praising Belloc's distributist political ideas, Gibson was presumably thinking particularly of Belloc's two pillars of distributist thought: The Servile State and An Essay on the Restoration of Property. Surprisingly perhaps, his words might have reached a number of receptive ears amongst the UK's political elites. Some of the policies of David Cameron's Conservative Party seem to be influenced by a neo-distributist think-tank. Unfortunately, however, neo-distributism is sometimes as far from real distributism as neo-conservatism is from real conservatism.

And while we're on the subject of politics, I'd like to suggest that visitors to this site read R.H. Benson's classic futuristic novel, The Lord of the World, as an antidote to the poisonous messianic secularism of Tony Blair and his American counterpart, Barack Obama. Benson's novel, published more than a century ago, predicts and prefigures the rise of secular fundamentalism as a darkly diabolical messianic force. It was published before those other classics of dystopian literature, Huxley's Brave New World and Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four, but has retained its relevance far more enduringly. I'll say no more about the novel's plot but I promise readers that they will be haunted by the ghosts of Blair and Obama as they follow the progress of the novel's evil protagonist.

March 2nd, 2010Outbreaks of Instabilityby Pavel Chichikov

Most of us have been following the news about the earthquake in Chile. I’ve never been through a serious temblor myself, though as a small child I once woke up in the middle of the night to feel the earth give a rapid shrug. A few glasses fell off a shelf. Nothing worse happened.

But we have all been through more than one metaphorical earthquake. Wars break out. Economies flutter and fall into recessions, or depressions.

There are personal outbreaks of instability. Family members fall ill or die. Fires destroy homes. Marriages break up. Jobs are lost.  Life projects fail.

No one sails through life without living through an earthquake of one kind or another.

I’m not going to impersonate a Catholic guru and explain it all, or prescribe remedies, or even painkillers.  Let’s make a start, though, by acknowledging that life on Earth is inherently fragile, and that we need one another. I’ve found that prayer helps a lot, because it can put us in touch with someone infinitely wiser than ourselves.

If and when you pray, don’t be afraid to be as helpless and as needy as you might feel. We come to God as small children to a loving father. That’s who we are. As a man on Earth, He too felt the ground tremble.

MITES

Earth has furrowed up her skin,
A wave that spreads across her face,
Feel the fire blushed within
As land and ocean interlace

Fingers clench and then let go,
A knuckle or a wrist bone snaps
Shaking cities to and fro,
And even continents perhaps

The mites that live inside a lash
Must feel the like when someone winks,
The lashes and the eyelids thrash,
And who’s to know what they might think?

But they’re secure inside a lair
Those dwellers on a human hair,
We who live outside the pores
May tremble in and out of doors

March 2nd, 2010The Infernal Beast Stirs Againby Kevin O'Brien

Belloc said the primary moral fruit of modernism is not sexual license, but cruelty - for such was the primary moral fruit of paganism.  I am reading about the North American Martyrs, who endured unimaginable cruelties and tortures at the hands of the Indians.  The paganism of the natives was bloodthirsty and savage and infernal, with men, women and children engaging in what can best be described as orgies of torture.  Some of the Jesuits were publicly tortured for hours on end before being martyred, their fingers gnawed off, their bodies burned, their lips and tongues and noses cut off, hot pokers thrust down their throats, etc.  We fallen men can give ourselves over to the most obscene and perverse and cruel acts as we rush headlong into hell.  Heigh ho!

March 2nd, 2010Tony Blair’s New Religionby Joseph Pearce

Last week I posted a video clip of "famous Catholic converts", which I thought very edifying and worth sharing with visitors to this site. In response, Diego posted a comment querying Tony Blair's inclusion on the list. I confess that I winced at Blair's inlcusion, and that of one or two other "converts" on the list, but felt that the overall power of the video still made it edifying viewing. As for my own views on Blair's so-called "conversion", I have documented my own disgust at this phoney Catholic's sheer chutzpah in declaring himself a Catholic and immediately lecturing the Pope on how the Holy Father and the Church have got things wrong. See my post, "The Non-Conversion of Tony Blair", posted several months ago, in the archive section of this site.

As for Blair's position vis à vis the Church, I can put the matter no better than the way it was expressed in the Spanish magazine, Diplomacia, sent to me recently by my good friend José Luis Orella, which emblazoned "La nueva religión de Tony Blair" on its cover, alongside a photograph of a suitably smug-looking Blair. A feature article inside the magazine was headlined, "Tony Blair: El Papa de una nueva religión" (Tony Blair: The Pope of a New Religion), which depicts Blair alongside Obama as being at the vanguard of a new messianic secular fundamentalism. I am honoured to be quoted in the article, describing Blair as "un católico a la carta" (a cafeteria Catholic) who picks and chooses what he wants from the menu, without coherence, and who resolutely continues to support the culture of death and abortion, in defiance of the magisterial teaching of the Church. Elsewhere, the article again states that Blair "has become a catholic à la carte" and refers to his creation of the "Tony Blair Faith Foundation" which aims to remake all the major religions into Blair's own image. Blair's ideas for a new "catholic" religion, which accepts that "attitudes and thinking evolve over time", were revealed, appropriately enough, in Attitude, a homosexual magazine, in which he described himself as "a religious man in favour of homosexuals". How singularly appropriate that Blair should "come out" as a heretic in such a magazine, the very title of which says all that needs to be said. Life is not about truth but about "attitude". It's not about adhering to a coherent Creed because "attitudes and thinking evolve over time". If only Jesus had been born in the Twenty-First Century, and if only he had listened to Tony Blair, everything would be just fine!

March 2nd, 2010Hot Off the Pressby Joseph Pearce

Long awaited sequel examines Shakespeare's plays in light of his Catholic faith
2/24/2010 - 12:59 PM PST

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
MEDIA ADVISORY
Catholic PRWire <http://www.catholicprwire.com>

Contact: Rose Trabbic, Publicist, Ignatius Press, (239)867-4180 or rose@ignatius.com

SAN FRANCISCO, CA (February 24, 2010) - A new book just released from Ignatius Press, "Through Shakespeare's Eyes: Seeing the Catholic Presence in the Plays", gives further evidence of what many people have long suspected: that the famous William Shakespeare was indeed a Catholic. Fulfilling the promise he made in his previous book, "The Quest for Shakespeare", bestselling literary writer Joseph Pearce analyzes in this volume three of Shakespeare's immortal plays - "The Merchant of Venice", "Hamlet" and "King Lear" - in order to uncover the Bard's Catholic beliefs.

In "The Quest for Shakespeare", which has been made into an EWTN television series, Pearce delved into the known biographical evidence for Shakespeare's Catholicism. Here the popular and provocative author digs into the plays, which were written and first performed during the English crown's persecution of Catholics.

Pearce explains, "I wrote 'Through Shakespeare's Eyes' as a sequel to my previous book, 'The Quest for Shakespeare'. Whereas the earlier book examined the evidence for Shakespeare's Catholicism to be gleaned from the documentary evidence of his life, this new book looks at the evidence for his Catholicism that emerges from the text of his plays. Taken together, I hope that the two books will form a sort of gothic arch with one supporting the central arguments of the other and vice versa. Put simply, these two books constitute a solid and challenging argument for the Bard's Catholic faith."

English history and literature were taught for generations through the prism of English Protestantism. Of late both of these fields have been dominated in universities and academic presses by modern scholars with filters and interpretations of their own. Though the evidence for Shakespeare's Catholicism has been studied before now, thanks, in part, to the unique contribution of Joseph Pearce, the Bard's genius is being analyzed in the open air of the public arena, the very place where Shakespeare intended his dramas to entertain and edify.

In this book, Pearce provides a new and enriching way to read Shakespeare, "Since the evidence shows that Shakespeare was a believing Catholic, it is clear that seeing his play through his Catholic eyes is the best way, indeed the only way, of understanding the deepest meanings that they convey. The book endeavors, therefore, to see the plays through Shakespeare's eyes, giving us a 'Bard's-eye' view of their true meaning."

Peter Milward, S.J., a Shakespeare scholar and author of Shakespeare the Papist, says, "What more is there to be said about William Shakespeare? Yet the supply of books on the great dramatist is never ending. Now, however, there is a new reason for this supply. The religion of Shakespeare, and specifically his Catholicism, is now recognized as a 'hot topic'."

Joseph Pearce is the author of numerous acclaimed biographies of major Catholic literary figures. He is a Writer in Residence at Ave Maria University in Florida and Editor of the "Ignatius Critical Editions" series, a collection of classic literature accompanied by literary analysis from a variety of notable scholars. Among his other titles are "Wisdom and Innocence: A Life of G.K. Chesterton"; "Literary Giants, Literary Catholics"; "The Unmasking of Oscar Wilde"; "Tolkien: Man and Myth"; and "C.S. Lewis and the Catholic Church".

To request a review copy or an interview with author Joseph Pearce, please contact:
Rose Trabbic, Publicist, Ignatius Press, (239)867-4180 or rose@ignatius.com


Contact:     Ignatius Press
http://www.ignatius.com  CA, 94122 US
Rose Trabbic - Publicist, 239-867-4180   
Keywords:     Shakespeare   
Category:     Catholic Publications   

February 24th, 2010Blazing in the Nightby Pavel Chichikov

There's a great light all around us to which we are blind at birth, often by upbringing, and sometimes by inclination. If this blindness were gone for an instant, the true glory of the world and its meaning would be shown to us. The great light would not dazzle us with its clarity and force. And yet it would burst upon us, and within us, like a newer, greater sun.

The paradox of this light is that it is great, and gentle, and joyous. Everyone is free to gaze at it straight on and not be blinded or dazzled. Those who see it - who permit themselves to see it - are never afraid of it. Neither fear nor force is in it.

Christ's love for us and His creation is that light. But the light is not a metaphor.

I think that St. Paul saw it, and I think that we can see it too, if we want to. It waits for us as we travel towards eternity. But it is also here, now, with us, to the end, and to the beginning.

BLAZING IN THE NIGHT

Fortune's never far,
There to one who sees,
Shadows hide it not
Visible it is

Where is it and why?
How is it so near?
See it in the eye,
Sound it in the ear

Know it with the skin
Healing of a sting,
Sense it on the wind,
Round it as a ring

Nothing you must take,
Treasure you must spend,
Nothing you must make,
Something without end

Ring of what we long for,
Circle of the light,
Jewel of the Savior
Blazing in the night

February 24th, 2010Wonders Never Ceaseby Joseph Pearce

I never thought I'd see the day that I watched the Oprah Show. I never thought I'd see the day that I actually enjoyed watching the Oprah Show. And, wonder of wonders, I never thought I'd see the day when I'd recommend that others watch the Oprah Show. No, I haven't gone mad, nor, which is worse, have I become a zeitgeist zombie. I refer to the recent appearance on the Oprah Show of those wonderful, vibrant Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist. Just as one candle can lighten the darkness, or just as one star billions of light years away can shine for our wondering eyes across an abyss of emptiness, so a handful of Dominicans can shine through the darkness of primetime television. Please take a few minutes, less than ten minutes in total, to watch the three video clips below. Like me, you won't be sorry that you succumbed to the Oprah Show, albeit only once ....

http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Lisa-Ling-Spends-the-Night-at-a-Convent-Video/topic/oprahshow

http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Lisa-Ling-Spends-a-Day-in-the-Life-of-Nuns-Video

http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Nuns-Reflect-on-Silence-After-the-Show-Video/topic/oprahshow

February 24th, 2010My Lenten Plan: Give Up Controlling Peopleby Lorraine V. Murray

When it comes to Lent, the knee jerk reaction is giving up goodies. I’ll say no to desserts or coffee or snacks, and I’ll be good to go! There’s nothing wrong with these sacrifices, of course, but this year I’m hoping to change something else in my life -- my relationships with other people.

The thing about other people that is so frustrating and maddening is that we can’t control them. Oh, we can steer a toddler in various directions by discipline and love, but once the child is grown, all bets are off. Then we have to do the most difficult thing of all, which is to love them even when they do exactly the opposite of what we think is best for them.

I have a relative whose doctor told her in no uncertain terms to avoid driving while taking a certain medication. But she went against the plan and drove anyway. Her being on the road was a danger to others, as well as herself. She made it home safely, but I found myself simmering with anger.

There are other relatives who spend money carelessly and are deeply in debt. Others who are addicted to booze and overeating. Over the years, I’ve fretted over their troubles, but then it hit me: we have a choice.

We can either become ensnared by our relatives’ troubles and wring our hands in despair because Aunt Betty is drinking again, or daughter Susie is in another bad relationship – or we can pull back and recognize the truth: Sometimes, all we can do is pray.

And what better time than Lent to give flesh to this realization? Instead of blathering on and on with unasked-for advice, which I have done in years gone by (“That guy is a loser; you need to date someone else.” “Your eating is out of control; how about Weight Watchers?”) here is the plan:

I’m going to give up trying to control people for Lent.

Every time I find myself thinking, “Oh, I’m so worried about (fill in the blank: my sister, my aunt, my niece, my friend),” I’m going to pick up my rosary beads and start praying. Every time I’m tempted to tell someone, “You should do such and such,” I’m going to pray instead.

In his book Interior Freedom, Jacques Philippe sounds a deep note of truth: “To see someone we love in difficulties without being able to help is one of the bitterest sufferings there is.” He mentions the agony of parents especially who watch their adult children fall into bad love relationships or turn to drugs. What to do?

“We can believe that God will not abandon our child and our prayer will bear fruit in due course.” During Lent especially, we can “carry that person in our heart and prayer…” As he points out, even when we feel our hands are tied because the advice we give falls on deaf ears, “We still have inner freedom to continue to love.”

Obviously, our relatives can be sources of great joy for us, but they can also bring us searing sorrow. An adult son may leave the Catholic faith. A daughter may run with the wrong crowd. Instead of wringing our hands and wondering why these terrible things are happening, we have to stay strong in our faith.

Jesus was surrounded with people who disappointed him. Early in his ministry, the crowds tried to throw him off a cliff. Later, Judas betrayed him, and Peter denied knowing him. When he stood before Pilate, the people who could have asked for Jesus' release asked for a terrible criminal instead.

During Lent, we can keep silent when a relative hurts and disappoints us, and instead of criticizing them, we can continue to love them. Get down on our knees and pray for them. And, most of all, carry them in our hearts.

--

Lorraine's latest books are "The Abbess of Andalusia: Flannery O'Connor's Spiritual Journey" and "Death in the Choir." Her Web site is www.lorrainevmurray.com

February 19th, 2010Hitler versus the Holy Fatherby Joseph Pearce

For those seeking some light relief, this brief video of Hitler being driven to distraction by Pope Benedict XVI's pontifical successes might raise a smile.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b12aglwd8QY&feature=player_embedded

February 19th, 2010Monkey Experiment Proves Life Has No Meaningby Kevin O'Brien

With Pavel Chichikov writing about Hamlet, I thought we needed to counterpoise the poetry with some hard-nosed science.  This is from a report I made a while back.

This just in:  As many of you know, eight billion years ago at the Big Bang, a highly sophisticated scientific experiment was begun in which an infinite number of monkeys were given an infinite number of typewriters to pluck away at, at random, to see if, in fact, given an infinite amount of time, they could produce the play "Hamlet" by William Shakespeare (or Francis Bacon, as some suggest; or a room full of monkeys, perhaps).

Anyway, the results are in and to no one's surprise the infinite number of monkeys produced an infinite number of "Hamlets", though some were more "Hamlet-y" than others. For example, one monkey was tooling along nicely with a perfect "Hamlet", when, in the famous soliloquy, he had the following:"To be or not to beThat is the qwfxxrfrkknnn"and so this version didn't count, though otherwise this monkey's "Hamlet" matched Shakespeare's word-for-word. We also didn't count the near-Hamlet version that ended with Hamlet and Laertes going at one another with bananas instead of swords. And interestingly, some monkeys wrote "King Lear" and one wrote "How to Win Friends and Influence People". In fact, there were many transitional plays, or intermediate stages, in which some monkeys produced plays with characters named Hamlet and Gertrude reciting the lines from "Lear", while other monkeys just sat around scratching themselves, a clear proof of evolution.

But the experiment was not without its surprises, nor its more unnerving moments. The scientists were disturbed early on, in year seven, when entirely at random, one monkey wrote, "Get me out of this room, you sadistic moron. I'm sick and tired of this pointless experiment and I've had my fill of typewritters [sic]." Notice how monkeys misspell, (two Ts in "typewriters" - really!) and many of them type, "between you and I", when they ought to type, "between you and me", a form of "random affectation", according to one researcher and grammarian.

The proof of all of this is clearly that anything can happen by chance. In fact, this report was typed entirely by chance, by one of the many many monkeys. It has, therefore, no meaning whatsoever, but is just as good as "Hamlet", as is what my neighbor monkey typed, "xxd. e=0h0hhkdk vndkhgf[q0edhgnlnvhfhewuh"Oooo. Oooo. Oooo. (scratches self, screeches, exits. End of Act One. Enter Godot.)

February 19th, 2010Famous Catholic Convertsby Joseph Pearce

My father-in-law forwarded this YouTube link to me. It's an impressive and uplifting list of significant converts to the Catholic faith, and well worth the investment of five minutes of time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ceWeNFNv4dI&feature=player_embedded

February 16th, 2010Hamlet, Prince of Denmarkby Pavel Chichikov

To be alive or not to be,
Conception by the world’s Creator
Taken in stenography
By one of Avon, William Shakespeare
 
Tragedy, a life quill-written,
Dipped in blackest, deepest gall
Of English oak on floppy vellum,
Scratched and scrawled
 
At one end of a finished line
A period, a rounded splash,
The smallest part of God’s design:
Hamlet, prince, depressed and brash
 
Never would there be a script,
No Hamlet and his force of will,
Rage and pride, ambition clipped
Unless dictated to the quill
 
And if a microscope should peer
To amplify the tiny dot,
A ragged roundness would appear
Of that which is and which is not
 
And this is Hamlet, circumscribed
Within the action of a scene
That stretches out to all alive
And what is yet to be, has been

February 16th, 2010Make No Mistakeby Pavel Chichikov

Said demon to the devilkin:
“How would you prepare
To stuff the sum of mankind in
Our kingdom of despair?”

“I’d tell them," said the grimy one,
"''Relax, there is no God.'”
“That won’t convince the whole of them,
And some will merely nod.”

"I’ll say to them: 'There is no hell,
Be easy as you were.'"
“That doesn’t catch them all as well,
A few will be deterred.”

“I’ve got it," said the devil’s get,
"You’ll like this scheme of mine,
Fighting off a fool's regret
I’ll say: ‘There’s lots of time.'”

“Genius!" said the enemy,
"Before they know they’re hit
An avalanche of misery
Will bury every twit.

“By me! I think you have the scheme
To get them all together,
Keep them living in a dream
That life goes on forever

“Let them never fall awake,
See that time runs out,
It’s better far, make no mistake
Than any stupid doubt.”

February 16th, 2010To Be Compromisedby Kevin O'Brien

She’s almost 30.  She’s been promiscuous, but not more so than other secular women her age.  She’s seen the movie “My Cousin Vinnie”, in which actress Marisa Tomei performs the “Biological Stomp”, telling her marriage-resistant boyfriend that her biological clock is ticking and emphasizing that fact with several stomps of her foot.  She is beginning to realize that these guys she’s dated and slept with over the years are losers.  She feels the cold approach of death and recognizes that there’s a longing for marriage and motherhood within her, despite what the feminist worldview says.  She has no prospects in sight.  Her “relationships” as she calls them have been entirely sterile – they have produced no children (there’s almost a 50 % chance she’s conceived but had an abortion), and they have produced no commitment, no family, no love, no nothing.  She’s an attractive and moderately intelligent young woman and she is beginning to panic.

I’ve known lots of ladies like this.  I’ve worked closely with young actresses for almost 20 years now, and this is very typical.  I’ve seen them even go so far as to pay lots of money to join dating services and start hyper-dating, and I’ve seen them on the phones with their boyfriends, or (if they’re shacking up with them ) their “fiancés”, and I’ve heard the lackluster conversations.   And I’ve even met some of the guys.

And I can tell you this.

It’s all about lowering expectations.  It’s all about an ugly desperate compromise.  Most of these girls don’t end up with “the man of my dreams” but with “the man I’ve settled for”.

A while back I wrote on “Bad Catholic Art”, on how Catholic artists are marketing to the ghetto, the embattled few who are so used to the cockroaches and rats and slumlords that they’ll eat up anything a Catholic artist puts out there, no matter how bad it is.  I wrote how this prevents a true evangelization or engagement of the culture.  Why do we settle for this? I asked.

He’s almost 50.  He’s spent most of his career producing theatrical productions and a few films.  He knows very well the limitations of starting and trying to run a Catholic drama company.  He meets resistance at all levels – poor mouthing from the parishes that want to book the shows, and a ton of nonsense from the actors who travel with him putting on these shows.  He realizes that if acting is indeed a vocation, as he keeps telling everyone it is, and if an actor who’s evangelizing through drama is a secular anti-Christian in his real life, as almost all actors are, then there’s a fundamental problem there.

But he compromises.  He settles for things.  He sets the bar low.  He says, “It’s impossible to run The Theater of the Word Incorporated.  It simply can’t be done.  There’s no way we can find a cast of four actors who are talented, reliable, available to tour, and devoutly Christian.  There’s no way we can charge what the shows are worth.  We might as well work the system somehow and do our best.  Great idea, God!  Thanks for putting me in a position to run this theater company and evangelize through drama, but since it can’t be done, I’ll just settle for second best and fake it as best I can.”

Until one of his anti-Christian actors quits and he’s forced to replace him – with of all things a talented, reliable, devoutly Catholic actor from Hollywood (of all places).  And suddenly we end up with four people on stage who are giving their lives to this, who want more than anything to use the talents God has given them to spread His message and engage the dying culture.

My friends, it is so tempting for us to compromise, to settle, to think that although God is asking us to do the impossible, we can’t take Him seriously.

I have a friend whom God called out of the boat to walk on water, and so he did it, and God has given him the grace to dance delicately on the waves for a decade now.  I know other people who have been asked to step off the diving board and frolic on the surface of the pool - to walk on water - but they don’t even think that the water is there.  The pool might be empty.  It’s one thing to step out of a boat, walk for a while and sink, as Peter did; it’s another thing to step off the diving board and come crashing down onto the concrete below.

And so out of fear we splash around in muddy puddles on the street, when God is calling us to far greater things.

February 15th, 2010Against Chaosby Pavel Chichikov

I’ve had another online debate with someone who says he’s an atheist, although you never know these days who is pure in his atheism, and who is carrying a torch for one goddess or another. It sometimes changes from sentence to sentence.

When I used to visit Russia, almost everyone I met had been raised, officially, as an atheist, although when you got to know people it turned out that many of them had been baptized, courtesy of their grandparents. Sometimes they had been baptized twice. One set of grandparents hadn’t known what the other set had been up to. A surprising number of people, especially toward the end of the Soviet Union, were church goers and believers.

But even the atheists I met were for the most part respectful towards religion. They didn’t mock, badger or quibble. They may not have converted, but they were willing to listen.

A friend of mine, an atheist and a very fine human being, described to me how people had gathered in kitchens to hear the sermons of Father Alexander Men, a quite wonderful Orthodox priest. She said that there were many communists among them, and that despite their atheism they had been dumbfounded by his force and eloquence.

I suspect that a few of them, or more, have now entered the Orthodox Church.

Western atheists seem to be mostly different. They can be antagonistic, belittling, patronizing, rude, ignorant and question-begging. Most of all, they are often proud of their prejudgments.

Perhaps if religion had been all but outlawed in the West, they might have turned out differently.

Father Men was murdered some time before the Soviet Union fell. Someone followed him to a bus stop, struck him from behind with an ax, and killed him.

Each one has a post, to which he is assigned
Love is the watchword, give the countersign;
The countersign is given by One who came before,
Mercy and forbearance gently go to war;
Yet although the palm is better than the fist
When chaos is advancing, the watchword is resist!

Envoi

Sing in these bare ruined choirs
Against the craft of crooks and liars,
Heartlessness, abandonment
Of all that Christ the Savior meant:
Hope and joy and charity
Once filled these walls with harmony
Of nature and of spirit, soul
So that divisions were made whole -
Sing, the walls are opened to
The wind, the voice that must sing true,
It is the spirit Who once named
The world itself and chaos tamed

February 12th, 2010Confessions of a Facebook Ignoramus…by Joseph Pearce

Thanks to all who have contributed to the ongoing conversation about the "fan page" (see the post, dated Feb 8). I'd like to reassure Ana and Enrique that I am not offended, merely confused!!! I'm something of a luddite and a techno-ignoramus and I don't know how Facebook works. I am, of course, flattered that anyone should feel my work warrants such a page. Thank you Ana and Enrique!

February 11th, 2010Mulling over Masksby Jef Murray

I’m mulling over masks. This happens each year about this time, as Shrove Tuesday approaches. Mardi Gras materializes just as winter waxes full. Spring storms will stalk the weeks to come, but for now we are still Jack Frost bitten.

Mardi Gras masks hang ‘round our house in preparation for a feast this Friday. Mountains of okra, bushels of crabs and Andouille sausages heap the kitchen. Shrimps of all sizes and shapes swell ice box shelves. Peppers peek and onions peel. I am become the maelstrom and my name is Gumbo: behold me, ye of puny proportions, and quake!

Gumbo means “okra” in Creole French, and the word derives from the Bantu language of the Congolese people. Here in the Deep South the word means many things: it is the big soup of the bayous that wraps great-muscled arms around all that is tasty, wild or cultivated. It is made of all things; is eaten by all things; is all things. The culmination of French and African and Native American and Italian largesse, Gumbo is a soup like that of Tolkien’s Fairy Tales…made up of bits and pieces of all nations, all peoples, all mythologies.

Gumbo is like Mardi Gras. It is something magical molded from the mundane. As Tolkien says, “All that is gold does not glitter”: in this case, Mardi Gras glitters, but Gumbo is true gold.

But, appearances deceive on these February days. The grape vines look dead, and rosemary bush and bamboo seem to have taken Jack Frost a bit too seriously. I’m checking to see if the honeybees are still humming their wintry lullaby, and am snipping old growth from scuppernong and fig. Next week begins Lent, and I probably need more pruning than anything else growing on this petite plot of land.

Shrove Tuesday means “confession” Tuesday…the day when we need to ‘fess up about our failings. And with Lent we get opportunities to make amends.

But this brings me back to masks. As I’m snipping off straggly tendrils that have grown into the gardenia bush, I’m wondering, if masks are so much a part of Mardi Gras, is it because on Ash Wednesday we’re supposed to strip them off again? And here I mean _all_ of them, not just the paper ones we don as we guzzle our Gumbo…?

Who is the wearer of the mask and who _is_ the mask? Do we ever stop to find out? If I were a grapevine, who would it be that would ask to be pruned?

Surely not this strand of grapevine-come-gardenia. That’s a muscadine mummery. The _real_ vine is the one that cleaves the ground, the one with the stout but scarred branches. That’s the vine I’m after. But there are lots of false shoots in the offing…

Snip. There goes a little bit of temper.

Snip. That’s some arrogance right there.

Snip. There goes just the smallest strand of self-centeredness.

Hmm. Looks like this is going to take a while. Truth to tell, it may take the rest of my life to find all the bits that need chucking. Worse still, the part of me that’s doing the judging is, very likely, the one that’ll get it all wrong. I’ll end up keeping the arrogance and snipping off a branch of humility. I’ll hang on to hamfistedness and cull compassion.

Maybe, then, this isn’t something I’m capable of doing. Just like Gumbo needs someone to season it, maybe I’m the soup that wants salting. Maybe, when all is said and done, I’m not capable of removing my masks and finding out what’s beneath them.

And if this is true, then perhaps my job this Lent is something a bit bigger than I expected. Maybe my job is to sit still and let larger hands than mine figure out what parts of me need sifting and what needs savoring. If I’m the soup, then there’s got to be someone else tending the stove.

What I have to do this Lent is to trust the One doing the cooking. And perhaps that’s the point. My own certainty that I know what’s best for me is the biggest mask of all. And if so, then only by laying down that mask can I finally learn who it is that God intends for me to be….

May God bless you and yours this Lenten season….

February 11th, 2010Mediareleaseby Joseph Pearce

CONTACT: Karina Fabian
Phone: (805) 285-0108
E-mail: karina@fabianspace.com

Ann Margaret Lewis
Phone: (317) 755-2693
e-mail: annlewis@joesystems.com

For Immediate Release

Joseph Pearce to Present at the Catholic Writers Conference Online

World Wide Web-- Joseph Pearce will be presenting a CHAT on "What authors can learn from Chesterton" at the Catholic Writers Conference Online.

The third annual Catholic Writers' Conference Online, which will be held February 26-March 5, 2010, features writers, editors and publishers from across the globe. Sponsored by the Catholic Writer's Guild, the online conference is free of charge and open to writers of all levels who register before February 15, 2010.

Workshops and live online chats cover the gamut of writing topics from idea generation to marketing a published novel; traditional and self-publishing, article writing and fiction, and much more. "We have over eighty subject-matter experts giving their time to teach others--from the fledgling writer learning about plot to the experienced author wanting to better market their works," said co-coordinator Karina Fabian. "We're very grateful for the help of people like Joseph Pearce."

Here's the description of Professor Pearce's topic:

G.K. Chesterton was a very successful writer across many literary genres and, as such, is a good guide to the art of successful writing. The on-line chat will centre on the various ways in which Chesterton communicated to his audience in a way that was both popular and profound. He managed to earn the respect of the intelligentsia without ever losing the common touch. Using prose that was accessible without ever succumbing to the "dumbing-down" of his style, he employed paradox and humour to great and disarmingly charming effect. How did Chesterton spend so much time arguing with his adversaries without ever quarreling with them? How did he cross swords with the modern world without ever losing the prevailing sense of good-natured charity that animates everything he wrote? How does a writer follow Chesterton's example in the twenty-first century? These and other questions will be asked, and hopefully answered, during the hour-long chart session.

In addition, ten prominent publishers (Catholic, Christian and secular) will hear pitches, giving authors an unprecedented opportunity to chat personally despite living hundreds or thousands of miles away.

The CWCO has also added small critique workshops, where writers can get information and advice specific to their writing.

"CWG's goal in creating these conferences is to help Catholic authors get published. In this economy, the online conference provides a great opportunity for Catholic writers to better their skills and jump forward in their writing careers. The cost is nil and the value is priceless. No Catholic writer should miss it," said CWG Vice President Ann Lewis.

Although the conference is offered free of charge, donations are accepted; proceeds will go toward future conferences. To register or for more information, go to http://www.catholicwritersconference.com.

# # #

Graphics, interviews and further information available upon request.

Best Regards, Catholic Writers Conference Online Staff We sent you this message because you have selected to receive newsletters from our site You can choose to unsubscribe from our mailings at any time by following this link If you would like further assistance, please send an email to our administrator annlewis@joesystems.com 

February 11th, 2010The Love Bombby Kevin O'Brien

I’ve been looking into cults lately and have found that one of the techniques they use to attract their needy and vulnerable members is something called “love bombing”.  This is showering the new recruit with praise and a kind of intense but artificial intimacy.  “I’ve never had friends like this before!  What love I’ve found!” the neophyte thinks, and thus gets sucked in.

This is followed by an isolation from society and a tearing away of the recruit’s personality, a breaking of the spirit and the will, so as to produce a dependent soul, intensely attached to the Leader and willing to follow him anywhere – especially into the sack.

Back in the days when I studied under my old acting guru, I experienced just this kind of game.  He would lead the actors in whacko group therapy type sessions where he would arrange it so that at least someone in the group broke down in tears at every rehearsal.  He would orchestrate a kind of love bombing of members, to be balanced by ostracism to control a member’s recalcitrance or independence of thought or will.  Actors who were more independent or who didn’t drink the kool-aide were in one way or another removed from the company.  And the slavish idolatry he elicited from the young women and teenaged girls was a sight to behold.  There were certainly enough indications at the time, and looking back it appears certain, that he was sexually abusing his female followers, including the underage ones.

Why did I work with such a man?  I was a teen myself, and his method of acting seemed to be a panacea – it was a way of integrating my personality, of producing powerful and almost religious reactions within me, it was a kind of church of the enlightened, an esoteric group of talented and emotional people who seemed intensely intimate with one another – but all of it was contrived.

All of it was a short cut.  False intimacy.  Faux religion.  And not even good acting, much of the time.

Why do I bring this up now, thirty or more years after my “deprogramming”?  Because it’s very tempting for us to want this in our Church, and thereby to want to wash away all the mundane struggles, the fallible parishioners, the less than zealous preaching, to focus on the miserable grocer beside us in the pews, as C. S. Lewis would say, instead of on God.  But it’s hard to focus on God in the real world!  Things are so … ordinary!

And yet it is among such ordinary people that common sense and sanity reigns, and it is into such a fallen and dreary world that Our Lord came, and still comes, even at the most appalling of Masses.

His incarnation into such a world – this is the real Love Bomb!

February 11th, 2010The Essential Bellocby Joseph Pearce

The irrepresible Scott Bloch and the indefatigable Fr. C. J. McCloskey have teamed up with Saint Benedict Press to produce a new anthology of "essential Belloc". A description of this exciting new title, which is due to be publsihed this spring, is inserted below. If you have never read any Belloc this might be a good place to rectify the sin of omission:

The Essential Belloc

A Prophet for Our Times

Copy

"More than any other man, Hilaire Belloc made the English-speaking Catholic world in which we all live"
-Frank Sheed

He was a poet, a polemicist, and a prose stylist without peer, but Hilaire Belloc (1870-1954) was first and above all a mighty champion of the Catholic faith. With his brave (and sometimes brash) defenses of Catholic civilization, he taught an entire generation of Catholics never to stand for being treated as second-class citizens in the predominantly Protestant Anglosphere.

Today, with the Faith once again suffering scorn and contempt from all sides, it is time to re-discover this Catholic champion.

The Essential Belloc draws upon the prolific writer's works (he authored more than 140 books, plus countless articles, pamphlets, and letters) to provide a comprehensive overview of his ideas, style, and personality. More than just a collection of quotes, these pages offer rich samplings from Belloc's writings, affording you a solid introduction to his thoughts on:

• The foundational link between Western culture and the Catholic faith
• The anti-Catholic historical myths that the English-speaking world has come to accept as fact
• The limits-and dangers-of science that has abandoned faith in God
• The latent power and future menace of militant Islam
• The characteristic faults of political and economic systems that deviate from Catholic principles
• The particular charms of places throughout the world: their towns and roads, their churches and inns
• The love of good food, wine, and ale, and the songs of camaraderie that go with them

And more-plus delightful examples of Belloc's poetry and wit.

Belloc himself once remarked that "genius is the ability to think in a very large number of categories." In The Essential Belloc you will marvel at how well he fits that definition, and be edified by the breadth of his brilliance-and its continuing relevance for the modern world.

February 11th, 2010Catholic Writers Guild Writers Conference Onlineby Joseph Pearce

Budding Catholic writers might be interested in checking out the forthcoming Writers Conference Online, organized by the Catholic Writers Guild. Those interested should e-mail Karina Fabian (karina@fabianspace.com). The deadline for registering for the conference is next Monday, February 15. My own involvement at this conference will be to lead an on-line chat on the theme, "What authors can learn from Chesterton". Here's a brief description of some of the questions that will be addressed during the chat, which is scheduled for noon on Friday February 26: 

"G.K. Chesterton was a very successful writer across many literary genres and, as such, is a good guide to the art of successful writing. The on-line chat will centre on the various ways in which Chesterton communicated to his audience in a way that was both popular and profound. He managed to earn the respect of the intelligentsia without ever losing the common touch. Using prose that was accessible without ever succumbing to the 'dumbing-down' of his style, he employed paradox and humour to great and disarmingly charming effect. How did Chesterton spend so much time arguing with his adversaries without ever quarreling with them? How did he cross swords with the modern world without ever losing the prevailing sense of good-natured charity that animates everything he wrote? How does a writer follow Chesterton's example in the twenty-first century? These and other questions will be asked, and hopefully answered, during the hour-long chart session."

February 11th, 2010Rescued From Racism by the Love of G. K. Chestertonby Joseph Pearce

This is the headline of a feature article about my journey from radical politics to religious conversion, published in this week's Catholic Herald, the UK's premier Catholic weekly newspaper. For those interested in my sordid past and my journey to the Catholic faith, a visit to the following link will be illuminating.

http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/features/f0000524.shtml

February 10th, 2010The Snowby Pavel Chichikov

It’s snowing again in Washington, DC, for the second time in a week. Down and sideways, and at all angles, the snow recovers its empire from what was uncovered only days ago by shovel and plow. Eventually it will melt, or sublimate into the air, or be carried away by dump trucks. But suppose it continued, without stopping, for days and weeks, until it covered everything? What would be left besides a sterile white blankness?

Time is the blizzard that covers all. From millennium to era to eon, it covers everything, crushes everything, absorbs everything into itself without end, until time itself has stopped. What can be left under this inconceivable drift, beneath this immeasurable blizzard of time?

If God is love, and God is eternal, then we must know the answer. Love, within the world and beyond all duration, outlasts time itself.

THE SNOW

Suppose the snow came down and down
And filled the cracks in wounded Earth,
What would the cities and the towns
What would the streets and roads be worth?

From blankness until blankness they
Would lead to citadels of snow,
Compacted mountains, yesterday
Would never change and never go

And all the proud and useless things
That were before would never be
Again, and only wind would sing
The anthems of eternity

But peace would be, an end to war,
An end to pride and violence,
Deception and the craft of whores,
Indulgent selves and vain pretence

But also love, except perhaps
It would depart for other lands,
Escape from death’s deceiving trap
That even killed the Son of Man

Where sanctuary it would find,
Immortal garden of the blessed,
To leave the frozen world behind,
The rigid hearts and all the rest

But no He said, I will remain
Although the world grows cold and dead
Until the end, and love sustain
In flesh and blood, in wine and bread

February 8th, 2010The Rich, the Poor, Ham Sandwiches and Usuryby Kevin O'Brien

I just finished reading a paper online by Brian McCall on usury and the damage it is doing to the modern economy (see http://works.bepress.com/brian_mccall/6/ ).

This is a dense paper to get through, but it’s worth it.  Using St. Thomas Aquinas and the history of usury from ancient times onward, McCall presents a thorough explanation of a subject that we ignore at our peril.  Usury has always been condemned by the Catholic Church – as well as by Jews and Muslims.  One of the most despicable villains in all of Shakespeare’s plays is a usurer – Shylock in “The Merchant of Venice”.  Usury was a notorious crime in the Middle Ages, as obvious a crime against nature to the pre-moderns as was sodomy or abortion.

But these days we don’t believe in nature or in crimes against nature – despite all our praise for Mother Earth.  We certainly don’t believe we’re a part of nature or that we have a nature or that we can sin against this nature.

So we’ve lost sight of the sin of usury.  And with good reason – it is the fuel of our (now collapsing) economy.

McCall points out that there are objections to usury from two points of view. . From the point of view of distributive justice usury is a sin because it victimizes the poor – to wit, payday loan sharks and credit card companies.  From the point of view of commutative justice, however, we see the true nature of usury and how it is in fact a sin against nature.

To illustrate this, imagine a poor starving man who comes to a rich man and begs to be fed a ham sandwich.  The rich man says, “I will not give you a ham sandwich, but I will lend you one.  This is a loan.  You must pay me back.”  The poor man promises to.

A month later, when the poor man has saved enough to buy a ham sandwich to replace the one he ate, he brings said sandwich to the rich man.  “This will not do!” the rich man says.  “You owe me 30 sandwiches, not just one.”

“But you only lent me one,” the poor man replies.

“Yes, but you ate that sandwich 30 days ago, and I have been without it myself for 30 days.  I could have eaten it 30 times over in 30 days.  You not only enjoyed my sandwich, you enjoyed the use of it, for a full month!”

“The use I put the sandwich to was to eat it.  And after I ate it once, I could not eat it again 30 times over.  And neither could you!  The sandwich vanished upon being put to use – which is to say eaten,” the poor fool replies.

But the rich man, flying in the face of nature and common sense, claims that somehow a thing that is consumed in its use is no different from the ongoing use of a thing that endures, as if the ham sandwich had been a plow the poor man had borrowed, a durable good he had been putting to productive use for that length of time.  And so the poor man is either clapped in jail, or in an enlightened society, asked to make the minimum payment of a half slice of ham every month for the rest of his life.

This crime against nature, of trying to gain from something that produces no gain, of charging for the use of something separate from the consumption of it, when its use is in fact that very consumption – this is usury.

And this greedy neglect of reality, this demand for profit where no good is produced, this fee for use even when something is used up, this is the root of what is bringing the world’s economy down.

As someone once said, “We want our money to breed, but our sex to be sterile.”  And the effect of that fallacy is all around us.

February 8th, 2010Facing the Farce of the Facebook Fan Pageby Joseph Pearce

I understand from my friend, Sean P. Dailey, editor-in-chief of Gilbert Magazine, that there's a so-called "Joseph Pearce Fan Page" on Facebook. I'm not exactly sure what this is, or what it's supposed to be aimed at achieving, but I'm a little concerned by Sean's words that "the person who has created it is pretending to be you (something else that bothered me -- you're not the kind of person who would create a fan page for yourself)". The fact is that not only would I not create a "fan page" for myself, I wouldn't know how to do so! I am not signed up for Facebook, not least because I'm fearful of being sucked further into cyberspace than is good for me. To quote Sean again, the thing in Facebook "is a page done by someone masquerading as you". If the so-called "fan" masquerading as me would like to remove his mask, or if someone would be good enough to expose him, I'd be most gratified. Indeed, I'd become his number one fan!!!

February 8th, 2010Sneak Preview of the March/April Issue of StARby Joseph Pearce

The March/April issue of the Saint Austin Review is almost ready to wing its way to the printers. It's another exciting, power-punching issue, filled to the brim with great articles by some of the finest writers in the English-speaking Catholic world, not to mention the odd fine writer from the non-Catholic world! The theme of the next issue is "G. K. Chesterton: Fidei Defensor" and we've assembled a veritable cornucopia of Chestertonian delights for the delectation of our readers.

Amongst the highlights of the next issue:

Dale Ahlquist, President of the American Chesterton Society and host of the long running EWTN series, "The Apostle of Common Sense", asks the beguiling question: "What if Chesterton Had Gone Bad?"

Louis Markos surveys "The Journey Back Home: How G. K. Chesterton 'Discovered' Orthodoxy".

Jennifer Overkamp examines Chesterton "the Fairy Tale Philosopher"

Matthew P. Akers defends Pump Street, in Chesterton's Napoleon of Notting Hill, "and all things medieval".

Geir Hasnes defends Chesterton "from those who damn with faint praise".

John M. Dejak champions "Chesterton: The Just Warrior".

Kevin O'Brien, host of the EWTN series, "Theater of the Word", praises "The Drama of Chesterton" as "A Story of Life and Death and Life Again".

The irrepressible and indefatigable Jesuit, James V. Schall, visits "Towns and Places" with Hilaire Belloc.

The equally irrepressible Father Dwight Longenecker looks at "Chesterton and the Morality of Movieland".

My fellow countryman in exile, Father Benedict Kiely, a native of England now serving his parish in Vermont, discusses Hilaire Belloc and Heroism.

My fellow faculty member at Ave Maria University, Susan Treacy, discusses the connection beetween poetry and music in the verse of Siegfried Sassoon.

Film Critic, James Bemis, presents the first of a new series examining the films on the Vatican list of great movies, commencing with The Flowers of Saint Francis.

Patrick G. D. Riley casts his experienced eye over the American political scene from an unremittingly pro-life perspective in his regular column, Riley's America.

Book reviews in this issue include:

Thomas Howard on Peter Kreeft's and Father Tacelli's Handbook of Catholic Apologetics;
Matthew Kenefick on Charles E. Rice's What Happened at Notre Dame;
Michael M. Jordan on Lee Oser's The Return of Christian Humanism: Chesterton, Eliot, Tolkien and the Romance of History;
Lorraine V. Murray on Father Benedict Groeschel's Tears of God: Persevering in the Face of Great Sorrow and Catastrophe.

The issue is illustrated, as befits an issue published in Lent, by all fourteen of David Myers' superb depictions of the Stations of the Cross, as well as featuring two lenten poems by Father Dwight Longenecker and Pavel Chichikov.

Last but hopefully not least is my own editorial which compares G. K. Chesterton as a Defender of the Faith to King Henry VIII and Prince Charles.

Why would anyone in their right mind want to miss out on such a treasure trove of Chestertonian wit, wisdom and rambunctiousness? Well, what are you waiting for? Go to the section of this site that allows you to subscribe on-line! Become a Wise Man - Follow the StAR!

February 3rd, 2010Bruce Fingerhut, StAR’s Publisher, On His Friend, Ralph McInernyby Joseph Pearce

Further to the earlier tribute to Ralph McInerny, here are the words of Bruce Fingerhut of the St. Augustine's Press, the new publisher of StAR, who knew McInerny much better than I did:

Bruce Fingerhut (St. Augustine's Press) writes: Ralph McInerny died early Friday morning, January 29, a day after the Feast of St. Thomas. It was, by all accounts, a happy death, serene and full of the acceptance that comes from a sure and strong faith. 

McInerny's professional accomplishments are legendary: writing perhaps 125 books in philosophy, poetry, general fiction, and mysteries plus thousands of articles and translating dozens of books from several languages; editing three national magazines; starting an online university before they became passé; directing hundreds and hundreds of dissertations; heading two major centers in philosophy and medieval studies; winning awards in mystery writing and, finally, philosophy's greatest award, the Gifford Lectures; all while being recognized worldwide as one of the foremost Thomist philosophers of our time.

His capacity for friendship was overwhelming, lavish, effortless. Giving of his time and treasure, his advice and encouragement, his affability and care was all part of being in the enormous circle of friends whom he helped and laughed with and counseled and prayed for. To be with him was to be happy.

He was outstanding in all the important roles of life: husband and father, friend and teacher, inspirer and witness, in love with God and truly love by God.

February 1st, 2010Ralph McInerny - May Flights of Angels Sing Thee to Thy Restby Joseph Pearce

With the passing of Ralph McInerny on Friday, the Catholic world lost one of its greatest contemporary writers and one of its most invigorating voices of orthodoxy. Although I never knew him well, meeting him a couple of times during my occasional visits to Notre Dame, I have been a longtime admirer of his work. On those precious occasions when we did meet in person, I found him delightful and joyous company, a man full of the presence of Christ. As for further words of homage, I turn to my friend, Dena Hunt, who expresses the greatness of the man, and the greatness of our loss, with fitting eloquence:

I feel a personal grief on hearing this news. I loved Fr. Richard Neuhaus and grieved when he died as well, but losing Ralph (somehow I feel justified in using a familiar first name--I'm sure he wouldn't be offended at all) is almost like losing a dear friend. Completely at home, as he was, in the most profound philosophical disputations, he was no less at home in popular literature as well. He was a living contradiction to those who insist (overtly or not) on an either/or label. Director of the Maritain Center at Notre Dame, he also wrote over 80 successful novels for popular consumption. I've never been able to take seriously a complaint of a dearth of contemporary Catholic literature that ignored McInerny. Not an O'Conner or a Greene or a Percy--he wouldn't have pretended to be--his contribution to Catholic culture was greater, in a way. He wrote best-sellers, if not Great Literary Masterpieces, that were pervaded by Catholic beliefs and values and gave them to an American secular public who actually received them with gratitude. That is no small achievement. And I've never believed that enough notice was taken of that--or that contemporary Catholic literati were sufficiently aware of his uniqueness in that way. A wonderful, kind, generous, brilliant, gentle, humorous, and talented man--one who quietly walked the walk all his life, both personally and professionally--has been taken from us. A real renaissance man in Catholic literature. I feel the loss.

Dena

January 29th, 2010Bad Catholic Artby Kevin O'Brien

There is an ugly flipside to all our talk in these posts about reclaiming the culture.  And that is the sad fact that many people who make an attempt to create a culture or a work of art from a Catholic perspective are somehow dishonest about it.  This is a difficult phenomenon to describe, so bear with me.

I have been to Catholic seminaries and retreat centers where, whether the mood is liberal or traditionalist, things are poorly maintained.  The roof is leaking, the heat doesn’t work right, trash is piled up in places, bugs are crawling on walls, and to look around you you’d think that you were in a meth-lab infested trailer park.  There is a neglect that is allowed to grow like a cancer.  Usually the retreat attendees or the seminarians don’t complain.  But something is icky.

In addition, there are Catholic media outlets that broadcast programming that’s not even up to amateur levels.  One apostolate that specializes in audio material allows the audio they distribute to be occasionally inaudible or so poorly edited that a recorded speech will simply stop before it’s finished, leaving the listener hanging when the tape ends, so to speak.  Now, I can understand an apostolate that specializes in evangelizing through audio recordings might have poor graphic design or cheap packaging, but if all you do is audio, why can’t you get the audio right?

And my company, the Theater of the Word Incorporated, does drama.  It’s no secret that most Catholic or Christian drama companies do horrible work, ponderous, self-congratulatory, boring.  Why is this?

I think it’s because it’s a ghetto out there.  We really are in a meth-lab infested trailer park.  Because the culture at large is so secular, and increasingly so anti-Christian, the market for the cultural work Christians do is more and more limited to the select few, the true believers, the fringe.  So our artists end up working in a vacuum, where the market that exists for their work is a contrived one; and the patrons of Catholic art so forgiving and desperate that they take very literally Chesterton’s quip that a thing worth doing is worth doing badly – even though obviously a thing done badly is not worth patronizing, whether it be a book, a play, or a movie.  If, for example, there were a real market for Catholic audio material, a company that put out shoddy work would be drummed out of business both by competing companies and by the public’s unwillingness to endure shoddy work.  Since the market is just the ghetto, the persecuted few who are happy for whatever crumbs they can gather, such a situation can continue.

Therefore Catholic artists suffer from the same fate as secular “high artists”.  A secular “high artist” is one who produces art for a contrived market such as the dilettantes who claim to admire abstract painting.  We all know that “high art” is sterile because it isn’t popular, nor will it deign to be.   Likewise, since what passes for Catholic art is not popular, our artists never face the music.  They too adopt a certain disregard for what they do, and it shows up in neglect.  They never have to confront the reality of what real people really want in art, or even in entertainment.  And so they put out stuff that’s simply bad.

And why do we put up with this?  Bad Catholic drama or music or television should be condemned as much as bad Catholic architecture, a thing people are willing to notice and complain about.  Why should we not build shopping-mall churches?  Because we’re doing it for the Lord, and we should be doing our best.  Why should we not produce bad Catholic stories and poems and plays and movies and sculpture?  For the same reason.

But the problem is once you start a downward spiral, it’s hard to break free.  Whatever came first, we now have parishes that won’t pay what it costs to book a good theatrical performance because they don’t value the quality of a good theatrical performance because the producers themselves don’t value the quality, and even if they did they might not be able to afford to produce it for a market that won’t pay for it.  Much of the bad Catholic cultural material that’s out there is free, and you get what you pay for; you can also only realistically give as much as you get paid for – so the neglect continues and festers, with both producers and consumers to blame.

Is there a way out?  There is, and it’s they key to the new evangelization.  People are still people, and they still respond to good art.  The market has languished, but the need is still there and the demand may yet return, if both the producers and the consumers, the actors and the audience, the artists and the patrons, wake up to the need for the good, the beautiful, and the true, not the shoddy, the trashy, and the contrived – and demand the seriousness of commitment on both ends that will produce it – a seriousness usually measured by money.

Indeed, while the love of money may be the root of all evil, the disdain for money is akin to a Gnostic revulsion at the flesh.  We will know that there’s a revival of Catholic culture when producers start spending time and money to produce good material, and patrons start spending time and money to enjoy it.

In short, it’s time for the poor mouthing to end – on both ends.

January 29th, 2010More Best Booksby Joseph Pearce

Further to the earlier post giving my selection of "Best Books of 2009" for the IgnatiusInsight website, I thought it would be good to give people the opportunity to look at the "best book" selection given by other Ignatius authors. Here's the link:

http://ignatiusinsight.com/features2009/bestbooks1_2009_dec09.asp

January 29th, 2010Was Shakespeare a Secret Visitor to Rome?by Joseph Pearce

Evidence unearthed at the Venerable English College in Rome has heightened speculation that Shakespeare may have visited this Catholic seminary, the de facto headquarters of Catholic resistance to the English Reformation, during the 1580s, shortly before he embarked upon his playwrighting career in London, and again in 1613, shortly after his retirement. Several signatures in the College's visitor's book contain clues that the Bard of Avon may indeed have travelled to Rome and may have visited the notorioius seminary from which numerous Catholic priests were sent to England to face martyrdom.

The three signatures allegedly belonging to Shakespeare represent a significant and exciting addition to the burgeoning body of evidence illustrating the Bard's Catholicism. Although this particular evidence is somewhat speculative it offers further intriguing circumstantial evidence to buttress the more solid documentary evidence. As such, it belongs alongside the equally intriguing evidence suggesting that Shakespeare may have been "Shakeshafte" at Hoghton Hall in Lancashire a few years before his apparent or possible visits to Rome. As I state in The Quest for Shakespeare, the evidence for Shakespeare's Catholicism is not dependent upon this speculative material but on solid biographical facts, verified by known documentation. Nonetheless, the proliferation of such supporting material strengthens still further the solid case for the "papist" Bard.

January 29th, 2010The Best Books I Read in 2009by Joseph Pearce

At the end of last year, Carl Olson, editor of Ignatius Insight requested that I list the best books that I'd read throughout the preceding twelve months. I was happy to oblige.

Here's my rambling survey of the past year's reading:

There is no doubt that the best new book I've read this year is A Postcard from the Volcano by Lucy Beckett (Ignatius 2009). This wonderful novel is not merely the best new work of fiction that I've read in several years it is, me judice, a work that deserves a place among the classics of modern literature. I am in awe at the sheer genius of Miss Beckett. Brava! And again, brava!

Another gripping work of fiction is Piers Paul Read's Death of a Pope (Ignatius 2009). Although not in the same league as the aforementioned Volcano, it is, to employ a time honoured and time-worn cliché, a real page turner. How refreshing it is to read a thriller with theological nous.

My exclamatory assertion that Volcano is "the best new book I've read this year" indicates that I've read some books that are even better but that are not "new". I think, perhaps, that the accolade of "best old book" that I've read this year belongs to Maurice Baring's sublime C, a novel that is as long and convoluted as its title is short and au point. The plot of C is excruciatingly slow - and I mean this as a compliment! Like a good game of chess, there's no real action or denouement until all the pieces are in place. Then, like a coiled spring, it bursts into action, all its potential energy, stored painstakingly in the first few hundred pages, exploding with kinetic gravitas - and yes gravitas can be kinetic! Baring has to be one of the most unjustly neglected novelists of the twentieth century. All lovers of great literature should consider it a duty to pray for the resurrection of his reputation.

The best work of apologetics I've read this year is indubitably Richard Purtill's superb Reason to Believe: Why Faith Makes Sense (Ignatius 2009). I can't see how any honest intellectual could take Dawkins and his ilk seriously after reading Purtill's philosophical defence of faith.

As a convert myself, and as my own work suggests, I am fascinated by conversion stories. This being so, two new collections of conversion stories have been most welcome additions to my library in 2009. Chosen: How Christ Sent Twenty-three Surprised Converts to Replant His Vineyard (Ignatius 2009) and Mere Christians:  Inspiring Stories of Encounters with C.S. Lewis (Baker Books 2009) offer a wealth of wonderful testimonies of the workings of divine grace in Enemy territory. Heart warming and faith building fare for the hungry soul!

While we're on the subject of converts, I must mention two excellent new books on converts, for which I have written introductions and which will be published next year. Roy Campbell Remembered: An Intimate Portrait by His Daughters (Zossima 2010) is a posthumously published memoir of the convert poet by his daughters, Tess and Anna, edited with sympathetic dexterity by South African scholar, Judith Coullie. I drew on much of the material from these memoirs for my own biography of Campbell (Unafraid of Virginia Woolf: The Friends and Enemies of Roy Campbell, ISI 2005/HarperCollins 2002) but it is good to see the memoirs finally being published in their own right. The other converts book is Converts to Rome, by John Beaumont, an exhaustive compendium of English converts from the time of the Reformation, which will be published by St. Augustine's Press in 2010.

Last year I praised a new book on C. S. Lewis and Ronald Knox (Second Friends: C. S. Lewis and Ronald Knox in Conversation Ignatius 2008). This year, I'm pleased that there is further evidence of a Knox revival with the publication of The Wine of Certitude: A Literary Biography of Ronald Knox by David Rooney (Ignatius 2009), an excellent literary biography that serves as a perfect introduction to Knox's life and work.

Finally, and at the risk of being accused of self-promotion (heaven forbid!), I must wax lyrical about the new Ignatius Critical Edition of The Merchant of Venice (Ignatius 2009). The selection of critical essays assembled in this edition is simply second to none. Anyone wishing to understand this most controversial of Shakespeare's plays will find no better edition anywhere.

January 29th, 2010News, Musings & Wanderingsby Joseph Pearce

It seems an age since I last posted anything on this site, and it has, indeed, been more than two weeks. Too long! I'll try to do better in the future. In the interim, I am grateful for Kevin O'Brien for keeping the site warm with his entertaining visits. Clearly I owe him an ale or two next time we meet, whenever that may be.

This particular visit is not going to be an effort to follow a sustained train of thought, not least because I don't seem to be able to sustain such a train at present! Instead I'd like to offer a few random musings about this and that, give some of the latest news, and generally wander and perambulate until I've said what I want to say.

In the two weeks since I last made an appearance, I've received my supplies of the latest issue of StAR, the first under the watchful eye and guidance of our new publisher, the St. Augustine's Press. The issue is a tour de force with articles by some of the finest minds and writers: Thomas Howard, Michael Waldstein, Louis Markos to name but three. I've spent much time discussing ways of streamlining the publishing and fulfillment aspects of StAR's operation to maximise impact while minimising costs. Part of the longer term strategy will be to build a Constellation of Patrons who will finance the increased marketing effort. StAR is too good to be a secret known only to a happy few. We need to make it known far and wide. If you are able to offer financial support to StAR's marketing plan, please be in touch. I'll be overjoyed to hear from you!

On January 13 I was interviewed by someone from the English Catholic Herald about my conversion story. This interview followed an hour on Catholic Answers Live on January 4, and preceded an interview with American Catholic Radio that I gave yesterday. The interest in my conversion seems to have been sparked by my essay on the subject in Chosen, a collection of testimonies edited by Donna Steichen for Ignatius Press.

Tolkien continues to occupy my time, most recently in the giving of a talk on "Unlocking The Lord of the Rings" at Belmont Abbey College in NC last Friday and at St. Joseph's Catholic School in Greenville, SC, this past Wednesday.

Yesterday I received, hot off the press and straight from the printer, my new book, Through Shakespeare's Eyes: Seeing the Catholic Presence in the Plays. I hope and pray that it may follow in the successful footsteps of its predecessor, The Quest for Shakespeare: The Bard of Avon and the Church of Rome.

Other good news received yesterday was confirmation that a Spanish publisher is going to publish a Spanish-language edition of my biography of Roy Campbell. Campbell was living in Spain at the outbreak of that nation's civil war in 1936, having converted to Catholicism two years earlier, shortly after he had moved to Spain from Provence. He was a controversial supporter of Franco's Nationalist forces during the war, having seen his friends, the Carmelite monks of Toledo, murdered in cold blood by the communists. Campbell loved Spain, so much so that he claimed that Spain had saved his soul, and it has long been my hope that my book might lead the people of Spain to love Campbell. Certainly Spain has had few more indefatigable defenders than this most irrrepressible of poets.

Apart from the aforementioned, I've been walking with Romeo and Juliet through the grounds of Mansfield Park with great expectations about the future success of the Ignatius Critical Editions. My editing work on this series is taking a lot of time but the rewards are great. Superb editions of Macbeth and Gulliver's Travels are due to be published this spring, and editions of the Canterbury Tales, Mansfield Park and Romeo and Juliet are hot on their heels.

And yesterday and today I've been reading through the numerous articles submitted for the March/April issue of StAR, which will be on the theme of "G. K. Chesterton: Fidei Defensor". What a great issue it promises to be! Watch this space for a sneak preview of the contents of this issue. Coming soon ...

January 20th, 2010HBO from A to Fby Kevin O'Brien

This is from a newsletter I send to our Upstage Productions Murder Mystery fans.  It's an article I wrote ten years ago about an experience I had with HBO.  I am not making any of it up!
 
As I’ve boasted in previous newsletters, we were invited to perform for what I was told were a group of “top HBO producers” at the Belhurst Castle in Geneva, New York in April. The HBO folks wanted me to do a parody of “The Sopranos”, their fascinating, violent, vulgar, and addictive hit drama series, which features what we kindly call the “F word” as a mainstay adjective. And so I set to work writing a parody of the show and faxed it off to HBO.

They called me in March. “We really are happy to be working with you on this project,” they told me, “but we feel your script is a little … vulgar.” This is because in the first act, Tony introduces Uncle Junior, his 87 year old uncle, and Uncle Junior uses the “F word” literally 17 times in his first speech. To which Tony replies, “Uncle Junior, ever since you got cable, you been a real pain in the ass!”

So when the HBO chick told me my script was “vulgar”, I predictably replied, “Well, so is your show. And this performance is for your top producers, who put together shows like this, right?”

“Well,” she explained, “these are our top TELEMARKETING producers. These are the top salesmen of HBO subscriptions across the country.” – a different kind of “top producer” entirely. And so the “top producers” were really the “top losers”, as it were.

So I rewrote my brilliantly vulgar script, cleaning it up in the process, and we hit the road last month to make these telemarketers happy (by interrupting their dinners, in a sense – how fitting!)

The show was, I am proud to say, well received by the audience, but not by HBO, who, I’m afraid, were not the easiest people to work with. Nevertheless, we got an “A” , not an “F”, and not even an “F word”.  Funny how they dish it out, and the subscribers are expected to "dish" it in, but they can't always take it.

January 18th, 2010I’ll Be Damned - with Faint Praiseby Kevin O'Brien

There is an interesting secular take on Chesterton's book "What's Wrong with the World" at the U. K. Guardian, a wonderful example of damning with faint praise.  See http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2010/jan/08/gk-chesterton-world-whats-wrong and pay particular attention to the combox battle.  I have been engaged into defending Chesterton and the Church by a rather condescending anti-Catholic, and I'm doing my best to be charitable, in the spirit of the great Gilbert himself.

January 7th, 2010Announcing the Launch of C. S. Lewis Collegeby Joseph Pearce

Great news has reached me from my good friends in the C. S. Lewis Foundation.

A few days before Christmas it was announced at a press conference that the site of the campus of the soon-to-be-launched C. S. Lewis College had been purchased.

The new college will be located in the greater Amherst area of northern Massachusetts, just east of the Connecticut River, on the beautiful and historic former site of Dwight L. Moody's Northfield Seminary for Young Women (later, part of the Northfield Mount Hermon School, which has since consolidated its operation onto its Mount Hermon campus, five miles away).

For further details of this exciting development, you are encouraged to visit http://www.cslewiscollege.org.   

January 7th, 2010New Year - New Issueby Joseph Pearce

The new issue of StAR is the perfect way to get the New Year off to an edifying start. Its theme, "Tolkien & Lewis: Masters of Myth, Tellers of Truth", is a return to an ever popular theme. And the content of this issue is simply superb.

Here are some of the highlights but please see the table of contents page elsewhere on this site for full details. More to the point, please see the details on this site of how to subscribe!

Highlights of this issue include:

"Reawakening Wonder: Farther Up and Farther in with C. S. Lewis" by Thomas Howard

"Harold Bloom and C. S. Lewis: Will the Real 'Dogmatist' Please Stand Up" by Louis Markos

"The New Tower of Babel: Modern Ideologies in C. S. Lewis' That Hideous Strength" by Marie Cabaud Meaney

"Tolkien and St. Thomas on Beauty" by Michael Waldstein

"Distributism in the Shire" by Matthew P. Akers

"Inheriting the Legacy of Tolkien and Lewis: Paolini's Inheritance Cycle" by Sophia Mason

"Sibelius, Tolkien, and the Kalevala" by Susan Treacy

"Movies and Myth for Teaching and Preaching" by Fr. Dwight Longenecker

Plus ...

James Como on two newly-published novels by Lewis' friend, Owen Barfield

Clara Sarrocco on The Latin Letters of C. S. Lewis

Eric Tanquist on The Letters of Joy Davidman

Pamela H. Tyrrell on Mere Christians: Inspiring Stories of Encounters with C. S. Lewis

January 1st, 2010New Year’s Postby Kevin O'Brien

Although this isn’t technically a new decade until 2011, we can still pretend, and so I found myself musing on where I was ten years ago, before the apocalyptic Y2K bug was about to bite us all.

On December 31, 1999 my actress and I were at a swank New Year’s Eve party at the Missouri Governor’s Mansion, performing an inter-active murder mystery for Governor Carnahan and his guests.  This was a costume party, and the governor came dressed as Charles Lindbergh– which became sad and ironic not long after when he and his son were killed in the crash of a small plane they were piloting while campaigning for the U.S. Senate.

I think of where I was intellectually and spiritually then.  At the time I was struggling with the Episcopalian denomination, and a church that had let us down.  After my conversion from atheism, my wife and I for a while attended Lutheran Church Missouri Synod services, until I realized that their fundamentalism and literalist interpretation of Scripture was something I could not endure.  We then flipped to the opposite extreme, and started attending an Episcopalian church not far from our home.  Although their services and music were beautiful, these folks bragged at having “no doctrine”,  and when they paraded their official “no doctrine”, the Episcopalian position on abortion, I was astonished.  “We believe that life begins at conception AND we support a woman’s right to choose an abortion,” they boasted, passing around a mimeographed sheet of this statement, which came from some Episcopalian conference somewhere.  How can a woman have a right to abort if life indeed begins at conception?  How can both things be true?  They can’t, but this is the vaunted Anglican “via media”, the middle way, slicing the baby in half, compromising between truth and error, violating the law of non-contradiction.

My compromise, my via media, was simply to stop going to church anywhere for a while – Lutheran, Episcopalian, or what have you.  To her credit, my wife Karen would not stand for this, and she kept pestering me to find a church we could stick with.  To my credit, I suggested the Catholic Church, which did not make Karen happy.  “I will become Anything But Catholic,” she insisted.

Well, to make a long story short, we took private instruction and were received into the Catholic Church July 30, 2000 and after a dreadful R.C.I.A program, confirmed at the Easter Vigil of 2001.

But this was really just the beginning.

For a long time I struggled with Catholic teaching and lived the cafeteria mentality.  And while I can point to an utter lack of good role modeling in the cafeteria Catholics around me, my conscience was troubled, and I knew this was no excuse.  You see, the Holy Spirit had taken great pains to bring me from my self-indulgent and self-sufficient atheism into the Catholic Church.  It was the last thing that anyone would ever have expected in my life.  And yet here I was living just like the suburban Catholics around me, which is to say, living like a secular modernist who had never even heard of Jesus.

I do not have room here to describe my intellectual journey once inside the Church, a journey that eventually brought me to a point where my Confirmation became interiorized.  I am not saying I am the perfect Catholic, but I am saying that by 2003 or so I was making every effort to live like one – with all the attendant sacrifices, failures, and frustrations.  For a long while I was Catholic only nominally, and my spiritual journey did not begin in earnest when I abandoned atheism; it did not begin in earnest when I forsook Lutheran fundamentalism; it did not begin in earnest when I renounced Episcopalian liberalism; it did not even begin in earnest when I was received and Confirmed into the One True Church.

It began in earnest a few months after I began to pray the Rosary.

The family was on a trip to Duluth, Minnesota in the spring of 2002.  I had been continuing to read Chesterton, Belloc, the Catechism, and other things in my ongoing wrestling match with Catholic Faith and Morals.  We stopped at a beautiful church somewhere in Wisconsin, and I picked up a pamphlet on the Rosary and how Our Lady of Fatima had asked us to pray it daily.  “What could it hurt?” I thought, and so I gave it a shot, ever day, with the booklet in hand, until I had memorized the prayers and could pray them without reading them.  I would try to say, reflecting on each mystery, “What are the lessons this mystery teaches me?  What’s going on here and how can I apply it to my life?”

And though I noticed no change in me, from that lowly point everything changed.  I eventually stopped fighting the Church, and found myself giving my life and talents in the dramatic arts to the Lord.  And all that I have done since then by God’s grace – all of the sins I’ve overcome, all of my creative work with the Theater of the Word, EWTN, the Chesterton Society and so forth, all of the blessings in our marriage and family life – all that can be traced back to Our Lady of Victories and her Rosary.  These simple prayers were the key to this past decade.  Or you might say these simple decades were the key to this past decade.

May Mary, the Mother of God, whose feast we celebrate on New Year’s Day, bless you all.  And may her Holy Rosary continue to bring us Victories.

December 28th, 2009Christmas, Communion, “Seinfeld” and “The Office”by Kevin O'Brien

So this past Christmas the family get togethers were particularly trying.  You know what I mean.

On Christmas Eve, the one branch of the family studiously avoided talking to me about anything at all that I do.  This is the nominally Catholic branch, the pro-abortion Catholic branch, the pro-perversion Catholic branch.  They are very successful, and some of them quite famous, for their secular achievements.  They are affluent and comfortable, but touchy and irritable at the same time.  You might call them the Kennedy branch.

They spent Christmas Eve bragging about their decadence in many ways, and my tolerance was taxed after the third glass of wine, so we up and left.  Usually I don’t mind the “Kennedies” on Christmas, as some of them are likable people, and they let one or two members of their branch lead the way on their liberal stridency, while the rest just tag along.  But when we started hearing detailed descriptions of the self-indulgent artistic endeavors of the latest Kennedy concubine, my Christmas cheer sounded a retreat.  I was so angry that I refrained from receiving communion at Midnight Mass, as I did not feel properly disposed.

Christmas night was spent with yet another extended family branch, one of whose dinner guests was a practicing Lutheran, and at dinner a quasi-theological discussion erupted.  My son Colin mouthed to me, “Don’t say a word”, but when someone asked about the Catholic position on the eligibility for reception of communion, I was obligated to speak.  I tried to point out that reception indicates unity with the Catholic Church, both intellectually and morally – both in belief and in practice; thus, holding a heterodox position, which is dissent-in-belief, disqualifies one from reception of the Body and Blood, as does mortal sin, which is dissent-in-practice.  The young cousin to the right of me told me frankly that he didn’t know that; and in fact he didn’t know anything about his Catholic faith, despite twelve years of Catholic schooling.  I should say BECAUSE OF twelve years of Catholic schooling.

Our Lutheran friend, one of our separated brethren, who was separated in the sense of sitting across the table from me, became very indignant.  “I’ll receive communion when and where I want!” she insisted.  “I’ll receive in a Catholic church or in a Lutheran!  Receiving communion is between God and me!”  I could have asked if everything is between God and her, or if there are some lines that God has drawn that apply to everyone and not just to each individual.  I could have asked if religion is entirely a subjective thing, or if it refers to any objective supernatural fact.  I could have asked what she would say if her husband committed adultery – would that simply be between God and him or would other people – say, perhaps, herself – be somehow involved?  But I had only had one glass of wine (by then) and not three, so I held my peace and thereby preserved a possible invitation for next year’s Christmas dinner.

But I began to wonder.  Why do the “Kennedies” avoid talking to me about Theater of the Word?  Why do certain Protestants become indignant about the line the Catholic Church draws on eligibility for reception?

In the first case, I clearly make the Kennedies uncomfortable.  But why?  If they’re so adamant about their personalized version of the Faith, why am I a bother, a contradiction to them?  Last year the Kennedy matriarch told us that she was furious that our archbishop had announced that a vote for a pro-abortion politician was an action that required sacramental repentance before receiving the Body and Blood.  “I was going to march up to receive communion with my Obama button on!” she said.  But she did not.

She did not!

Why not, one wonders.  According to her rules, it would not have been an infraction.  Was it the possibility of being denied communion (a very unlikely scenario) that caused her to refrain?  Or something else?

And why do certain Protestants become indignant about our communion?  If laxity is the rule when it comes to reception, why not just receive and ignore the rules?  Why get mad when the rules are read to you?  If the Eucharist has a meaning, then it has a definition and limitations that need to be recognized, limitations that exist as a fact.  But if it has no meaning, or if its meaning is subjective (which is the same as having no meaning), then there are in fact no limits, so why get worked up about imaginary ones?

You see, I can understand the liberal position, wrong though it is; it’s the inconsistency that interests me.  If they’re right, they have no reason to get upset or angry at the signs of contradiction that the Church and her members present them with.  If they’re right, then we’re simply wrong, and so why not just smile and go about their business?  Why the fear of bringing up my apostolate?  Why the anger over commuion?  If religion is entirely subjective, why get angry at the sentiments of another subjectivist?

For that matter, why do atheists get so churned up about God?  Why did I, when I was an atheist?  Why crusade for No-God, as the character in Flannery O’Connor’s “Wise Blood” does?

The answers to all these questions can be found in California, Oregon, and Washington state.  There they’ve passed on to the next level.  There subjectivism is such that no one cares about anything beyond himself.  No one cares.  That’s the liberal solution, and that’s the consistent one.

In the 1990s, the television show that best summed up the decade was “Seinfeld”, a show in which the selfish small-minded motives of the characters appeared ridiculous and funny; but the characters, selfish as they were, were in some sense still friends and still cared about each other, albeit imperfectly.  Throughout there was an implied reference point of sanity and virtue that they all fell short of, and that was the source of the humor.

In this decade, the TV show that best reflects our culture is “The Office”, a show in which people’s relationships are defined entirely by a business agreement, a show in which the boss is desperately seeking approval or friendship and is shown to be a buffoon thereby, a show in which the small-minded selfishness - indeed the isolationism - of the characters is seen as normative and the attendant despair of heart and subjectivism of morality seen as a matter of course.  There is no longer a healthy reference point with which to contrast the behavior of the characters.  They’re all subjectivists.

The message of “The Office” is our intercourse as people is an intercourse of commerce or an intercourse of fornication, and either way it’s just an anodyne for the loneliness of having nothing beyond ourselves or even between ourselves to strive for.

Which is to say, the world of “The Office” is a world in which there is no communion.

But here in the Mid-West we’ve not quite come that far.  Here we still argue about what communion means.  And that is a good sign.  In fact, it’s a sign of hope.

May your Christmas season abound, as our family dinners did, with signs of hope – in whatever annoying form such signs take.

December 25th, 2009What I Learned in Englandby Kevin O'Brien

WHAT I LEARNED IN ENGLAND

This past week I was in England with actors and crew from my company and from Corpus Christi Watershed, as we filmed a short movie on the conversion of the Venerable John Henry Newman.  We were graciously granted access to Newman’s retreat house at Littlemore, near Oxford, administered by the delightful Sisters of the Work.

A few brief observations.

CONVERSATIONS

The English people are so kind and genteel that it’s difficult for an American to know how to talk to them.  One conversation (along with inner dialogue) went like this:

KEVIN: We’ve certainly enjoyed our visit to Oxford.

ENGLISHMAN:  Yes, how lovely. (smiling a benevolent smile that could be either an indication that Kevin should say more or a patient patronizing of his harsh accent and garish ways)

KEVIN:  And being in the footsteps of Newman is such an honor.  As was eating at the Eagle and the Child, where C. S. Lewis and Tolkien met regularly.

ENGLISHMAN:  Indeed. (the smile becomes more wry)

(an awkward pause follows)

KEVIN:  (thinks) Is he waiting for me to say more, or is he hoping I should shut up?  (speaks)  We also enjoyed the Pantomime at the local theater.

ENGLISHMAN:  (a supercilious look of benign contempt)  Really?

Thus even conversing in a common tongue can be difficult.

THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR

We bought a cell phone to make international calls and of course had problems with it.  The young people who were manning the cell phone store were not far removed from the kind of American teens who work at Subway restaurant chains.  On the third visit to the store, with my phone still not working, I had to enter into Assertive Complaining Customer mode, and I was convinced not only that I’d get the kind of run around we always get in American cell phone stores, but also that I had been had and that the problems with my phone were the result of some sort of scam these punks were in on.

Much to my surprise, the young clerks showed a great deal of courtesy and patience and even managed to fix the problem in a courteous and professional manner.  This is not America, I thought.  Nor is it Subway, though the food at the pubs is not quite as good as what you can get at Subway.

THE END OF CIVILIZATION AS WE KNOW IT

Oxford seemed very much like the England I got to know a bit on two visits twenty years ago.   I was impressed with the large crowds on foot, many of whom were apparently students in their twenties, with all of the young ladies very pert and attractive.  It was the antithesis of a visit to Wal-Mart.   No fat, slovenly folks in sweat shirts.

The English have a different facial structure than most Americans.  Carl Jung once thought that the American Indian population influenced the European-American stock in some mystical ways, as he saw traces of the red man in our white American faces.  His mysticism is suspect, but his observation is accurate.

We saw no traces of the Islamic invasion, except in London, especially at Heathrow Airport (of all places) where most of the counter workers are in Muslim regalia.  And there was the ominous sight of a crescent moon rising above Buckingham Palace, which I snapped a photo of (see http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2028825&id=1232723636&l=f82019c5db for the pictures I took of this and our other adventures).

But the true end of things is the appalling and ridiculous conclusion the Anglican church has come to.  The world may end in fire, or the world may end in ice, but the Anglican church is ending in apathy, absurdity and self-parody.  I won’t go into details of how I was hit on by a very drunk and flagrantly homosexual defrocked Anglican priest (the only way you can be defrocked as an Anglican priest is not for sodomy or alcoholism, but for criticizing the Anglican bishops, something this poor soul bravely did), but I can tell you the feel in their churches (formerly our churches) is just like the feel in most of the Episcopalian churches in the U.S. - cold, with a kind of stolid refinement of manners, a lingering melancholy, and an overwhelming complacency.

THE REVIVAL

And yet the Oratorian Church in Oxford is packed to the seams at every Mass, confessions are offered almost non-stop throughout the day, with long lines of penitents, and even the ugly modern church named after Blessed Dominic Barberi in Littlemore is apparently staffed by serious orthodox priests.  Meanwhile, the church in Ireland is undergoing a much needed purgation and there are indications abounding of the survival, indeed the rebirth, of the Catholic Church in Ireland and the U.K. after a horrible time of trial and failure of resolve.  The official Catholic publications in England and Ireland are quite heterodox and show almost no sign of this whatsoever, except for the very telling letters to the editor, which are orthodox and clearly indicative of the grass roots movement that the publishers of these same papers must despise.

One of these letters in defense of the teachings of the true Church was written by one of the world’s foremost experts of Cardinal Newman, Fr. Ian Ker, whom I had the great privilege to meet one night after filming.  He is a man of tremendous humor and faith and shows that neither totalitarian kings and queens nor bad bishops can destroy God’s great gift to us, the Catholic Church and its holy priesthood.

NEWMAN’S LIGHT

In conclusion, it was made more and more evident to me in a number of ways, both spiritual and secular, that John Henry Cardinal Newman’s upcoming beatification is a key event in the reign of Pope Benedict XVI and of turning the tide against the liberal infiltration of the Church and of the hijacking of Vatican II.  Newman’s momentous conversion at Littlemore near Oxford 164 years ago was the most important conversion of post-Reformation times, a victory for Reason, an earthquake that many of us have forgotten, but that the enemy and his forces still hear, the beginning of the Catholic Literary Revival and true Reform in the Church, and the opening of a door that led to the astonishing lay apologetic movement we see around us today and that even the St. Austin Review is a part of.  Many forces both in the world and beyond it will be trying to derail this beatification.  Pray for it and pray for the support of Venerable Newman, Blessed Dominic Barberi, and St. Philip Neri.

I end by quoting a line from the wonderful Christmas Pantomime “Jack and the Beanstalk” that we saw in Oxford,

Fee Fi Fo Fum
I smell the blood of an Englishman
 
Although now, I might add, that blood, as it begins to rediscover the true Body and Blood of Christ, is beginning to stir.

December 25th, 2009On Chestertonby Robert Asch

There is presently a real and refreshing interest in GK Chesterton among serious French Catholics. Several of his books are available in recent translations - including a version of The Flying Inn by the great philosopher and critic Pierre Boutang.
 
On October 15, Paris hosted what appears to have been the first major conference ever devoted to GKC in France. The contributors included Fr Ian Boyd, Dr Dermot Quinn,  Dr Brian Sudlow, Alain Lanavère, and Philippe Maxence. Although I was unable to attend the conference, I'm delighted to be able to report that M Maxence - who is not only the editor of l'Homme Nouveau (one of France's finest Catholic cultural journals) but also his country's leading Chestertonian - has agreed to discuss Chesterton and France with me in the pages of StAR. I think I can guarantee a Dickensian treat in keeping both with the subject and the season!
 
A very Merry Christmas to all our readers, with every blessing in the year to come!
 
Robert Asch

December 22nd, 2009New ways of loving: gay goldfish for French 9-year-olds ...by Ferdi McDermott

France's children are now going to be treated to the ridiculous spectacle of a batty old right-wing cat, abandoned and trapped in a fairy-tale castle tower, which is all that is left of the old ways. This old pussy-cat, predictably named Agathe (Agatha is a really old-fashioned name in France as in England), is ripe for conversion to the beautiful, modern lifestyles emerging beyond the confines of her castle, (in which the only love imaginable is that dry and dusty old kind that exists between handsome princes and beautiful princesses ... )

Enter Felix, a lively young green boy-fish who feels drawn to the equally lively and somewhat slimmer Leon, another boy-fish, this time coloured a lovely shade of blue. All the old nastiness of Agatha-melts away when she sees the free and happy way these two boyish fishes frolic around in the flooded ruins of the old heterosexual society, presumably wiped out by global warming. Now she herself begins to wonder whether she should leave her old castle behind and look for frienship, or sex, herself ...

Of course, the film is all wonderfully poetic and artistic. It is beautifully done, from what we can see of the trailer (available at http://www.le-baiser-de-la-lune.fr/)

But the subtext is clear enough. The film-makers would say they are against 'homophobia', but the film portrays heterosexuality itself, and not just the attitudes of hardened heterosexuals, as something out-dated and out-of-touch. Homosexual love is portrayed as liberating and almost as a kind of renassaince of love for the loveless old world.

The film-makers are preparing a kit which will enable children of 9 and 10 to watch the film at school, then play role-play games that explore new and different ways of loving (!), then discuss the wider issues and find out the specifics of how boys can have sex amongst themselves, and girls too, instead of with each other, like those old-fashioned princes and princesses.

No surprise that the project is sponsored by a rogues' gallery of gay organisations plus the French youth and sport ministry ...

The film is called The kiss of the moon, although the word for kiss can also be translated to mean something more physical. This would no doubt come out in the discussions with the kids afterwards.

One thing about the film is spot-on: the idea that our age-old culture is drowning, and not just because of global warming.

I prefer the family tale of Mary and Joseph, and their mysterious new-born babe who also brings a new message of love to a weary world. Now that is a tale worth telling our children ...

December 21st, 2009Greetings and Happy Advent!by Jef Murray

In the Roman Catholic Church, today marks the fifth day during which the "O Antiphons" of Advent are sung at evening vespers. These antiphons, seven in all, were the basis for the hymn "O Come O Come Emmanuel", although the melody is very different.

Most importantly, the antiphon for today and tonight holds tremendous significance for lovers of J.R.R. Tolkien's Middle-earth.

"O Oriens" in Latin ("O Dayspring", or "O Dawn" in English) translates to "éala éarendel" in Anglo-Saxon, which was the initial seed of Tolkien's entire Middle-earth legendarium. The opening line from this portion of the Anglo-Saxon Crist is:

éala éarendel engla beorhtast / ofer middangeard monnum sended
"Hail Earendel, brightest of angels, sent over Middle-earth to men."

This line, and specifically the name "éarendel", was the basis for Tolkien's 1914 poem The Voyage of Eärendel the Evening Star, which started him down the road toward writing the tales of The Silmarillion, The Children of Húrin, The Hobbit, and ultimately The Lord of the Rings.

Lorraine and I would like to wish all of our friends and family a happy Advent, a glorious Christmastide, and a blessed New Year!

Nai Eru lye mánata ar tíra (God bless and watch thee)

Jef

December 15th, 2009Censorship from Withinby Kevin O'Brien

I am usually not a big booster of “Put Christ back into Christmas”.  Even de-Christianized Christmas is a magical time, as it was to me as an atheist before my conversion, and I figure if the secular Christmas (known as “The Holidays”) still manages to touch the hearts of the unwashed Pagans out there, fine.  We all know that there’s a special peace and joy to this time of year, and we see it in our pop culture, from movies about Santa Claus to secular “Holiday” music.

But something has happened.

We have two FM radio stations in St. Louis that have been playing non-stop holiday music since Halloween.  On the road this past week I picked up several more, from Kansas City to Omaha.  These stations play what must be a corporate play list, a pre-packaged group of seasonal songs that are put together and approved by the mega-corporations that own most of this country’s radio stations.  The music is usually not too bad, although newer music is favored over older tunes.

But there was a problem.  What began to strike me was how often we were hearing the same songs over and over again.  Out of the vast field of recorded Christmas music, we were hearing Karen Carpenter’s “Merry Christmas, Darling” and a cover version of “Jingle Bell Rock” a lot, and my actress Maria finally pointed out to me what was going on.

We were hearing – for hours on end – nothing but secular Christmas music.  The closest we came to a religious Christmas tune was Bing Crosby singing “Little Drummer Boy” in the background while David Bowie sang about peace in the foreground.  All of the richness of songs such as “Silent Night”, “Joy to the World” and “O Holy Night”, as sung and recorded by Christians, agnostics and Jews all these years is apparently left off the playlist deliberately.

This is in some ways worse than our Shadowy Masters telling Italians to remove crucifixes from public buildings.  It’s worse because this is an example of what has become typically anti-Christian corporate mentality and the effects of an inner timidity.  One form of censorship is censorship from above (bullying); the other is censorship from within (cowardice).  It is the latter that will destroy us.

Secular Christmas music – even “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” – is part of the celebration of the Nativity of Our Lord.  “Rudolph” expresses one aspect of something that “Adeste Fideles” more fully expounds.  Both songs are part of – or used to be part of – Christmas.

In the same way that we want sex without kids, we want the fun of Christmas without the challenge of Christ.

The wasteland continues to encroach upon the evergreens.

December 15th, 2009Solemnity of the Immaculate Conceptionby Robert Merchant

On the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  It began, appropriately enough, with Solemn Mass at the Ave Maria University Oratory, which Oratory has excellent acoustics.  The choir(s) are properly in the choir loft at the back of the Oratory (unlike children, choirs are to be heard and not seen) and aided by a sound cone (there's undoubtedly a better phrase) behind them which projects their singing throughout the cavernous 1100 seat Oratory.  The Mass was celebrated by the Bishop Emeritus of the Portuguese Diocese of Fatima.  The Bishop speaks no English, so he brings with him a fine translator for the homily, a man whose grandparents actually saw the sun's maneuvers on October 13, 1917.  Being a good and well-trained Catholic Bishop, it posed no problem that he spoke no English; rather, he simply said the Novus Ordo in Latin, which all in the near capacity congregation understood.  The Choir was, as usual, magnificent, the music simply glorious; it was a truly resplendent Solemn Celebration.  But there was to be some icing on this very delicious cake.  To be present for any Mass is to have one foot on earth and one in heaven.  But the icing happened after Mass.  For those who haven't been to the town of Ave Maria, at the center is a piazza in the middle of which is the Oratory.  On the circular drive around the piazza there are various stores and businesses, one of which is an eatery called The Bean.  Since Mass began at noon and lasted until after 1:30, I decided to eat at The Bean.  Being in Florida, I sat outside in (another) glorious Florida day.  Soon I noticed an aroma I hadn't been exposed to in years.  Could it be?  Was it really?  I followed my nose and saw the aroma's source.  A cigar!!  How delightful!  And no ordinary cigar.  It was about six inches long, at least 3/4 inch in diameter.  Surely it must have been smuggled in from Havana.  I say "it."  Actually, by the time I finished eating there were three such cigars being enjoyed, and one such smoker was also sipping a pint.  As if that weren't enough icing on the cake.  There was a total of six men at this table, all AMU professors of, I think, theology and/or philosophy, discussing God, St. Thomas, and Catholic theology, unabashedly and thoroughly enjoying the give and take of their words.  As I say, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  Incense in the Oratory and now cigar smoke at The Bean amid solid discussion about some very holy things. It gives new meaning to holy smoke. Can you imagine anything more grand?

December 10th, 2009Dúnedainby Jef Murray

I sensed the soaring sandhills today…at least, so it seemed. A distant discord…cockled calls above clouds. “Come along! Come along!” Would that I could follow that cry….

But I am earth enslaved, gravity grounded. Freedom for me is fought for, not found in flight. I defend what is dear, beating the bounds.

A friend recently rendered me misty-eyed, mulling. She reminded me of Middle-earth’s Dúnedain: those who safeguard the simple joys of life for others. This at a cost of long vigils: watching…waiting. I’ve pondered their countenances as I’ve tried to render Rangers. What would it cost? What lines of worry would etch each brow? What grizzled grayness would graft itself onto black locks? Eyes, though, always piercing…through stave and stone, fog and flesh.

Our blueberry bushes are blazing. All other leaves have flooded the front yard. Busy folk on busy lawns rake and blow blizzards of the dead and dying as I continue to listen for unclear croonings. This is too busy a place for Rangers! Surely I should take the straightest path out to the edges; hike to the creek, tool trenches in soft earth and hole up….

Or maybe not.

Maybe the edges stand before me. Maybe the boundary is not ‘round hearth and home, but around the human heart. I can stand, staff in hand, descrying demons beyond each branch… or I can seek, perhaps, for a subtler safety.
And with that thought, sound ceases. Clatter calms, motors mute. All I feel is air flowing, colossal currents just past perception, a maelstrom with this small house at its center, this small heart at its center.

And then I realize. The boundaries still exist. Aragorn’s kin are still out in that storm, seeking. They are not guarding the Shire, but my soul. They aren’t felling wickedness so much as weakness, not trolls so much as transgressions. But they want aid…I, too, must play my part. I must open gates and armories. I must heed their counsel when they bring forth the Black Arrow.

This is hard…to find that _I_ am the very ground on which this battle is fought!

But there is no nobler time to join these ranks. Now is when all eternity begins; now is when the tide turns; now is all we have, despite the coaxing of Morgoth to put this off for just one more day…just one more day…just one more day….

Now, by all that is holy, Lord, help me to simply say “yes”….

One word, whispered in darkness, and all is well. One small sound spoken against the storm, and those that seek to secure me will clash swords and shout hallelujahs!

For it seems to me the title “Ranger” suits not these guardians. Messengers I name them, Forerunners. These warriors sport wings! And with mighty blast of trumpets, they will bear each of us through the tempest as we prepare, at long last, for the return of the King.

December 7th, 2009Secular Fundamentalist Dictatorship or Religious Freedomby Joseph Pearce

Ferdi McDermott’s post earlier today lamenting the outlawing of the crucifix by the iniquitous European Court of European Rights raises some intriguing questions. For example, isn’t the banning of Christianity in public places simply the imposition of secular fundamentalism? Isn’t it simply the draconian imposition of de jure atheism and relativism? Isn’t it the dictatorship of huge centralised states and courts over the wishes of ordinary people?
 
As I read Ferdi’s post I was reminded of a similar situation affecting my adoptive home state of South Carolina about three weeks ago. In mid-November a US federal judge ordered South Carolina not to issue cross-adorned “I believe” car number plates to those who request them on the grounds that it violates the constitutional separation of church and state. The judge ignored the fact that the state legislature, a democratically-elected body, had voted unanimously to approve the car number plates that incorporate a cross in the midst of a stained glass window. And the judge also ignored the fact that these number plates will only be issued to those car owners who want them and request them, expressing their freedom of choice.
 
Let’s reassess the situation and then suggest an obvious solution.
 
In Europe, huge undemocratic bodies like the European Union and European Court of European Rights are serving as the juggernauts of the de facto atheism of secular fundamentalism; in the United States, the Federal Government and its courts are similarly imposing a state-sponsored atheism on an overwhelmingly Christian people.
 
Such is the situation.
 
Here’s the solution …
 
South Carolina and all the other states must fight for their political as well as their religious freedom by demanding a return of the power usurped from them by the Federal Government. In Europe, the nations of Europe must fight for their political as well as their religious freedom by demanding a return of the power usurped from them by the European Union and the European Court. Genuine democracy only works on a local scale and what we have in the United States and Europe is a bogus democracy that rides roughshod over the will and the freedom of ordinary people.
 
Not surprisingly, the Catholic Church has shown how true freedom and true democracy can be restored to the Christian peoples of Europe and the United States. It is through the implementation of the principle of subsidiarity, as expounded in encyclicals by Leo XIII, Pius XI, John Paul II and most recently by our present Holy Father, Benedict XVI, in Caritas in veritate.
 
Let’s state the matter bluntly. Secular fundamentalism is the enemy of true political and religious freedom. The subsidiarity espoused and expounded by the Catholic Church is the only path back to religious and political freedom.

December 7th, 2009“Smelling the Ducks and Ducking the Smell”by Kevin O'Brien

I know I’m getting older for two reasons.  First, not only do I like Judge Judy, I now like the way she looks.  Second, for years I was a young Curmudgeon, but I have now passed beyond Curmudgeon to Crank.  You don’t hit Crank until you have the years to back it up.

For example, I fired an actor last week who was the type that a few years back I would have indulged to no end.  But now I’ve learned to trust my nose – when something smells it smells.  And much of what people do to us and to the Church is not at first overtly inappropriate, but something that smells.  The smoke of Satan that has infiltrated the Church has an odor to it.

Thus, when you research a religious order and find a website devoted to “peace and justice”, there’s a kind of stink you recognize.  Now peace and justice are wonderful things, but they are wonderfully misused by the enemy.  When you later discover that this order has a center devoted to “respect for Mother Earth”, your suspicions are confirmed.

But this is not a popular strategy to pursue.  I have been criticized on this blog for being critical of smelly homilies; any time I point out bad behavior by bishops, I get slammed; and it’s never safe to make fun of Catholic Schools Week, a self-congratulatory exercise in banality that reeks to high heaven.

It’s just not easy being a Crank!  Especially when those around you have lost their olfactory sense – which means they can’t smell.

But we need to follow our noses and to realize the atmosphere that surrounds them.  As Chesterton says in What’s Wrong with the World, “Our age is, at best, a poetical epoch, an age of prejudice.  A doctrine is a definite point; a prejudice is a direction.”  The modern erosion of rational thought brings about an atmosphere of prejudice, of mood.  We find ourselves fogged in.  And lost in the fog of drift, told by all around us that definition is wrong; that distinction uncaring; that discrimination in its intellectual sense is as bad as discrimination in its racial sense; weighed down by the atmosphere that surrounds us and eventually inured to its smell, we find ourselves both excusing and worshipping at The Church of the Vague Sentiment.

Chesterton continues: “Against this there is no weapon at all except a rigid and steely sanity, a resolution not to listen to fads, and not to be infected by diseases.  In short, the rational human faith must armor itself with prejudice in an age of prejudices, just as it armored itself with logic in an age of logic.”

So if I have begun, in my dotage, to exercise not only the faculty of judgment, but also a bit of pre-judgment, it’s because it’s served me well.  On the battleground one does not ordinarily give the benefit of the doubt to a suspected insurgent.  We have been cowed into ignoring the warning signs; we have been holding our noses so long out of deference to our unwashed neighbors that we forget “if it looks like a duck and flies like a duck and quacks like a duck” – and especially, I might add, if it smells like a duck – “it’s a duck”.

December 4th, 2009Freedom of Religion or Freedom from Religionby Ferdi McDermott

That's the question many of my friends have been asking over the course of the last couple of weeks, in the wake of the European Court of Human Rights decree that the Italian law mandating a crucifix in every state school classroom is an infringement of human rights.

Italy's response has been to put up new crucifixes in public buildings all over the country, at state expense, and the issue has mobilised even Italian atheists in favour of this symbol of Italian national identity.

The judgement states that religious neutrality must reign in all state schools; which could spell the end of compulsory acts of worship in UK and Irish state schools and the abandonment of nativity plays. Most state schools in the Republic of Ireland have also historically displayed Catholic religious symbols: these will have to come down unless the ruling is overturned.

In the same month that the ECHR made this decree, the Swiss voted to change their constitution to ban the building of Islamic minarets in the country. Lucky for them they are not in the European Union so they can do more or less what they like on the question without fear of sanction, although they probably are signatories to the ECHR, so they may have to put up with the stigma of a negative judgement at some time in the future.

A spokesman from the Vatican has condemned this democratic vote in Europe's oldest and most peaceful democracy ... interesting times indeed.

December 4th, 2009Ruth Asch’s Poemsby Robert Asch

It's with understandable pride that I am able to announce the forthcoming appearance of my wife, Ruth Asch's first book of poems, Reflections, to be published by the St Austin Press this month.

Although Ruth has been writing original poetry and verse translations from French and Hebrew for years, and is thus in no way a novice, we are both tremendously excited about her venture into the public domain.  Obviously I wouldn't be much of a husband if I didn't either stop her or support her in this, but on my honour I think it splendid stuff; and I encourage any of our readers to make up their own minds by visiting her blog which features samples from the new collection: http://www.ruthasch.blogspot.com/.  

November 30th, 2009“Is Catholicism a cult?” and other joys of being a Catholic author in the Southby Lorraine V. Murray

Flannery O’Connor once wrote an essay about the rather strange experience of being a Catholic author in the Protestant South. This was back in the 1950s, when Catholics were regarded as very odd ducks indeed.

All these years later, being a Catholic writer in the South, specifically Georgia, remains definitely weird. I discovered this when my first book was published by a Catholic publisher a few years ago. The book never made its way to the shelves of local self-proclaimed “Christian” bookstores evidently because someone somewhere decided that Catholic books don’t fit under the heading of “Christian.” It seems that “Christian” has become synonymous with “Protestant,” especially in Southern bookstores.

In fact, there are still people down here in Dixieland who will ask me, in all seriousness, whether or not Catholics are Christians. A custodian even took me aside one day to find out if Catholicism was a cult. And I am not making this up!

Then there is the question of reviews. When I tried to get my subsequent books, all by Catholic publishers, reviewed in our local, quite liberal (secular) newspaper, I was told, in no uncertain terms, that the paper didn’t review “religious” books. This was an odd decision indeed, given that the same paper does review any books that tout atheism.

It seems that the secular press – in the South and elsewhere-- largely overlooks books written by Catholics, unless they are titled something like, “Why I Hate the Catholic Church” or “Secrets of an Ex-Nun.” This is because the secular press, unlike many average people on the street, realizes that Catholics are indeed Christians, and there seems to be a general distrust of Christianity in liberal newspapers. Indeed, there may even be an active hatred of the Catholic faith, since Catholic teachings strongly oppose certain behaviors that the liberal press tries to present as acceptable, including divorce, homosexuality, pre-marital sex, and so forth.

When I wrote “Confessions of an Ex-Feminist,” it was reviewed by orthodox Catholic publications such as “The Catholic Answer,” “The Saint Austin Review,” and “The National Catholic Register.” The secular press completely ignored it, although I have to wonder: If it had been called “Confessions of an Ex-Catholic,” would it have received some attention?  Of course, in that case, the book most likely would have been published by a secular press, and might even have become a national best-seller.

My latest book is “Abbess of Andalusia: Flannery O’Connor’s Spiritual Journey.” The book is undeniably Catholic, having been published by Saint Benedict Press and exploring the ways Flannery lived out her faith. Although it was only published two months ago, so far the same scenario seems to be playing out. Some Catholic publications are reviewing it, while the secular press is turning a blind eye. As for local media coverage, there has been none. It is something that Flannery O’Connor herself might have predicted, since her Catholic faith was certainly not understood in her day and continues to stick in the craw of liberal critics today.

--

Lorraine V. Murray’s latest books are “Death in the Choir” and “Abbess of Andalusia.” She lives in Decatur, Georgia, with her husband, Jef, and a hamster named Ignatius.

November 30th, 2009St. Austin and St. Augustineby Joseph Pearce

As of the forthcoming issue, St. Augustine’s Press, one of the premier Catholic publishers in the English-speaking world, takes over as StAR’s new publisher.

Apart from the hope and prayer that this new collaboration will be mutually beneficial to both parties, the symbolism of the union between the St. Austin Review and St. Augustine’s Press should not go without mention. Austin being a traditional abbreviation of Augustine, the St. Austin Review gets its name from St. Austin (or Augustine) of Canterbury who was sent to England by the Pope to convert the pagan Saxons. Although StAR was not sent officially to England by the Pope to convert the modern pagans, we come with the spirit of the Pope on the same mission as our illustrious namesake and forebear. St. Augustine’s Press, on the other hand, is named after its even more illustrious namesake, St. Augustine of Hippo, who has done more than almost any other saint in history to evangelize the world with the Gospel of Christ. Let’s hope that this new union of the two St. Austins may be a match made in heaven!

November 24th, 2009Loome’s to Open Sacred Gifts Departmentby Jessica Marie Smith

Via Matthew Alderman at Holy Whapping (self-plug for Matt, but we approve), Loome Theological Booksellers, one of the best places to get your God read on, will be featuring sacred gifts, to include Mr. Alderman’s lovely illustrations. Loome's is a remarkable place, not just because the provide a tremendous product and variety at that, but because they're part of the renewal of culture. Besides serving locally grown commerce and an amazing product, they're members of the Catholic Library Renewal Network, which "seeks to promote the Christian intellectual tradition by supplying Catholic institutions and religious orders with professionally built libraries through the generosity and charity of donors" Amazing.

If you’re in the Twin City area of the US, go to Loome’s  for a launch party this Sunday, from 2 to 4 PM at their store 320 North Fourth Street, Stillwater, Minnesota. Support Loome’s–Chesterton would be proud:

In an age dominated by big-box retail in books as well as everything else, it is refreshing to see that such a dominating institution as Loome’s is still in many respects a local, mom-and-pop sort of place, and that the man behind the cash register believes in the truths that are stacked up high on his shelves.

Minnesota friends, I I have holy jealousy! Report back with your favorite find and let us know how it all went.

November 16th, 2009World Record Holderby Kevin O'Brien

Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves.  You are reading a blog post by THE FIRST ACTOR IN HISTORY TO PLAY ALL THE ROLES IN A SHAKESPEARE PLAY.

The play in question is The Merchant of Venice, in particular the audio version of the play as recorded this month for The Merchant of Venice – Ignatius Critical Edition.  Incidentally, the Ignatius Critical Edition series is a set of classic works, from Huckleberry Finn to Frankenstein, edited by Joseph Pearce, each of which includes both the texts themselves as well as essays of literary criticism from a sane perspective.  While many of the essays included in each volume may not necessarily be from a Christian point of view, they are at least honest attempts to examine the texts in question from a traditional perspective, which is to say from a perspective that does not impose a perverse modernist agenda on the interpretation of the works.

As the publishers state on their website, these books “represent a genuine extension of consumer choice, enabling educators, students, and lovers of good literature to buy editions of classic literary works without having to 'buy into' the ideologies of secular fundamentalism.”  In other words, the Ignatius Critical Editions are part of the war to reclaim Christian culture, as fought on the battlefront of great literature and the attempts to read and understand it.  See http://www.ignatius.com/ignatiuscriticaleditions/index.htm

But enough about reclaiming the culture – let’s talk about the greatest actor in the room - me.  Or as Bottom would say in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, “I can play all the parts”.

In fact, I have been recording audio books for Ignatius Press since last spring, giving “dramatic readings” of works of fiction, in which I use my vocal talents to turn novels into something closer to “radio plays”.  And though it’s not good to brag, sometimes you have to in show business; so allow me to brag for a moment, not about my talents as a dramatic reader (playing all the parts), but about the material I am given to read – especially the tremendous sprawling and deeply spiritual novels of Michael O’Brien (no relation), works by G. K. Chesterton, and the “Socrates Meets” series by Peter Kreeft.  See www.ignatius.com .

And so, when the folks at Ignatius Press approached me about reading The Merchant of Venice and its accompanying essays, at first I offered to record the text of the play with a professional cast of actors, but Ignatius was insistent that I play all the roles.  This is either because A) they have great faith in my abilities as an actor, or B) I work cheap.  Perhaps it is a combination thereof.

Now I realize that this had enormous “cheese” potential.  “Why is this guy playing all these characters and why is it so bad – so cheesy?” I could imagine many listeners thinking – until I recorded it and listened to it myself.  Perhaps it’s the beauty of Shakespeare’s text or perhaps it’s the magic of “radio”, which engages our imagination (for the same imagination which in Shakespeare’s day allowed the underlings to accept a boy playing a girl on stage, these days persuades the listening audience that a man changing his voice on CD or ipod  is Portia – and Bassanio, and Shylock, and everybody else), but whatever the explanation, the thing turned out to be pretty darned good.

Therefore once I finished the project, and heard how well it came out, I decided that I might as well trumpet my case a bit.  I wrote to the Guinness World Records organization and described the feat.  We’ll see if they get back to me on it and give it their official recognition.

Meanwhile, it really seems as if I am the first person to pull this off.  First, it would not have been possible to play all the parts in a Shakespeare play in the same production in the days when the stage was the only medium in which to produce them.  Since the advent of film and audio recording, it has indeed been possible for one actor to set such a record, but my research has turned up only once when anybody came even remotely close.

In an art film version of The Tempest called Prospero’s Books (a film teeming with nudity, I’m told), John Gielgud voiced every role, though the roles themselves were portrayed by actors miming as Gielgud spoke.  This still may have counted – but at the end of the film, when Prospero’s wand is broken, the actors themselves begin to speak.  So Gielgud does not play all the parts all the way through.  (The spell, you might say, is broken!)

If there are other documented instances of one actor playing all the roles in a Shakespeare play, I’m open to hearing about them – though I would be utterly crushed if the record does not in fact belong to me.  So be gentle, dear readers, if you know more than I do, when you let me down.

Now we simply have to hope that Ignatius Press puts out the entire canon of Shakespeare’s works, so that I can be the only actor to play every role in every play ever written by the Bard.  Then and only then will I get the quirkish recognition I so long have deserved!

And now, back to the books and the studio … and can we say St. Bottom the Weaver, pray for us?

November 16th, 2009Award-Winning Grassroots Films Looking for Internsby Jessica Marie Smith

The Film Company which has cornered the barely-there market on film making with a soul wants you! Well, if you happens to be a college registered student in the greater New York area looking to use your social networking skills. This would be a fabulous opportunity with an award winning indie film company who represents all that is cutting edge, quality, and inspiring in the world of contemporary artists with a Catholic vision. When I spent time with Joe Campo and Mike Campo for the Madison, Wisconsin screening in Fall 2007, The Human Experience had only been on the road several months. Back then, people were so inspired and interested that Grassroots Films was already receiving resumes, headshots and loads of letters from wannabe Grassroots-ers. This is your golden opportunity, college friends, so give it a shot and send your resume!

They're looking for:

Grassroots Films is in search of Social Networking Interns. Responsibilities include Facebook & Twitter community management, web campaigning, as well as some general staff assistance. The internship is open to college students in the greater NYC area for school credit. The position is open immediately and will last approximately 3 to 4 weeks, in our Brooklyn office. Marketing, communications and creative business majors are encouraged to apply. Please email your resume, availability and cover letter to mandy@grassrootsfilms.com.

November 10th, 2009S.O.B – Saving Our Boatby Kevin O'Brien

I was sitting at the table with a number of priests, one of whom had had a tad too much to drink.  It was a fundraiser banquet for an orthodox Catholic cause, and most of the priests were rather stolid types.  I had just finished explaining the homily I had endured that day.  The Gospel reading was the Woman at the Well, and the homilist had explained to us how this encounter shows how Jesus “grew” in his ministry, how he learned to be less “sexist and judgmental”, and how we, like Jesus, should learn to “grow beyond our boundaries”, that that’s what Lent is all about, learning to “grow beyond your boundaries”.

“Do you know what I would have done?” asked the priest who had thrown back a few.  “At the end of his homily, I would have stood up and said …”  here the priest stood up at the table and expounded in a loud voice, “YOU SON-OF-A-BEECH!” and made an Italian gesture of contempt.  The other clerics stared at him somewhat aghast.

“But,” he said sadly, sitting back down, “I’m a priest and I can’t say that.”

“Well,” I consoled him, “I’m a layman, and I can’t say that either.”

But, my friends, what would happen if we did?

What would happen if we made so much noise that the bad homilist and the effeminate music minister and the angry parish nurse began to hesitate?  If we made them think twice before using their heterodox preaching, subversive music , and secular agendas against the Body of Christ?  If, as they keep telling us, “we are Church”, then why shouldn’t we Church get off our lazy Church butt and shout YOU SON-OF-A-BEECH to the people who are threatening us Church and everything about us?

Chesterton surprises us when he says that feminism is the surrender of women to men – a paradox that only he could see and explain.  Is the great apostasy of modern times partially the result of the surrender of lay Catholics to blind authority?  It would seem to be just the opposite.  We’ve been told since the Council that laymen now have a far greater role in the Church than ever before.   We’ve been told that it’s wrong to heed the old authority, the “hierarchy” and the privilege we once granted them.

But what we have now is a new priesthood, a priesthood of which we – and most clerics - are terrified., the priesthood of the liberals, who bully their way into positions of sham authority that we’re too frightened to stand up and rail against.

The emblematic expression of this new level of authority is the privilege granted to extraordinary ministers of communion.   In the past, liberals were angry that priests gave one another communion before distributing to the rank and file in the pews.  Now the priests give one another communion and take ten minutes to give communion to the twenty or thirty lay “Eucharistic ministers” in shorts and tank-tops who jam themselves around the altar, and who themselves get to receive before distributing to the rank and file in the pews.  We have not seen a layer of authority and privilege wiped out; we’ve seen a new one created.

I’m afraid, however, that we’ve all been brainwashed to believe that it’s wrong to fight for what you love, that the manly virtues that would make a lover of Christ shout “you son-of-a-beech” to someone who’s attacking the divinity of Christ and the common sense and Good News of the Gospel are somehow wrong, that it’s never right to make waves, even when the ship has been taken over by pirates who are doing their best to scuttle it.

Anyway, this is my suggestion for taking back the Church.  The mutineers have made headway in their attempt to hijack the ark, and we need a few brave souls to throw the hijackers out, with the battle cry of, “Let’s roll”,  or at the very least “you son-of-a-beech” – before we’re all wracked and beached for good.

November 9th, 2009Speaking Engagements for Novemberby Joseph Pearce

After a frenetically busy few months in which I seem to have been travelling to far flung corners of the continent of America, north and south, I’m pleased to have a relatively quiet November. In fact, I don’t leave the state of Florida for the entire month. I am, however, giving a few talks in the SW Florida area. If you live in the area, please try to attend one or more of these. I’d be delighted to see you!
 
Sunday, November 8, 15 & 22, 10:00 am – “In Search of Shakespeare’s Soul” (A series of three weekly lectures)
Moorings Presbyterian Church, Naples, FL
Contact: John Lawson – lawsonjohn@earthlink.net
 
Friday, November 13, 11:30 am – “Was Shakespeare Catholic?”
The Marco Island Yacht Club, Marco Island, FL
Contact: Catherine Dailey – (239) 348 4711

November 5th, 2009Something Beautiful for Godby Joseph Pearce

On the evening of All Souls Day, the Oratory at Ave Maria University was filled with the aural incense of Maurice Durruflé, Cristóbel Morales, Heinrich Biber and Gregorian Chant. Durruflé’s Requiem was augmented by offerings from Morales’ Missa Pro Defunctis and Heinrich Biber’s Dies Irae, each of which was punctuated with Gregorian interludes. This outpouring of the Church’s musical treasury, spanning from the middle ages to the twentieth century and sung by the AMU Chamber Choir and the Ave Maria University Chorus, was performed as part of a Solemn Sung Requiem Mass in the Extraordinary Form. As such, the sublime beauty of the music was put to the service of the Holy Mass, for which it was written and by which it was inspired.

The Church overflows with the grace of the sacraments and the timeless beauty of its liturgy, and this grace and beauty pours into the hearts of great composers, great artists and great writers. There is nothing this side of heaven more beautiful than the Holy Mass of Christ’s Mystical Body, especially in its pure and unadulterated traditional form, and there is nothing more edifying than being present at such a Mass when a choir sings the thurible of sacred music, letting it rise to the suffering souls in purgatory in heavenly praise. In the Real Presence of such majestic beauty one can easily imagine the suffering souls being released from their purgatorial chains by the prayer and praise being offered on their behalf. One sees a vision of souls floating on clouds of musical incense to the Beatific Vision beyond all clouds. Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua leceat eis.  

November 5th, 2009Cloning and Bad Homiliesby Kevin O'Brien

I am convinced that cloning is in fact going on, and has been for many years.  For instance, the so-called “cantor” at most suburban Catholic parishes has been cloned.  I was on the road last week in the High Plains of Kansas and the cantor for Sunday Mass was the same cantor I’ve seen everywhere – white middle-aged woman with short dark hair wearing a jumper and singing in a female falsetto, off-key.  I felt so much at home.  I’ve seen this same cantor in Missouri, Maine, California, the Bronx.

But bad as the singing was, the homily was right up there.  It was, in its own way, brilliant.  Imagine the challenge the homilist faced – how can you deliver a homily on All Saint’s Day, one of the most stirring feast days of the year, a day on which the Gospel reading is the Beatitudes, in one of the most beautiful old churches in the mid-west and still make it uninspiring and listless?  That ain’t easy to do.  To the homilist’s credit, there was nothing heretical, nothing appalling, nothing disturbing about what he said, there was nothing being said at all.  It was pretty much, “The saints are our friends and let’s let it go at that.”

Anyway, I’m devising a plan on how to combat the Dreck that passes itself off as music and homiletics in our liturgies.  The first step in this plan is “know your enemy”, and with that in mind, I present a post I wrote on my own blog a few years back, A GUIDE TO BAD HOMILIES.  Indeed, as with cloned “cantors”, bad homilies have very few differences between them.  Indeed, I’ve noticed over the years twelve distinct types of Bad Homilies.  Without further ado, there they are …

1. JESUS WAS NICE - YOU BE NICE TOO

This is the homily we usually hear in our suburban parishes. Love = quiescence / Fighting for what you love = evil. If this theme describes what you're hearing ... it might be a bad homily.

2. WWW.HOMILIES-R-US.COM

Beware of homilies that start with anecdotes about cute crap. "A boy at camp whose mother sent him cookies ..." "There was a woman who found she had a terminal illness ..." Anything with a Reader's Digest flavor to it is probably from www.homilies-r-us.com, which is what I call the clearing house for shallow thinking sermons that fit easily into a template. If your priest sounds like he's beginning his talk with a canned anecdote ... it might be a bad homily.

3. DON'T GET IT WRONG, BUT DON'T GET IT RIGHT ENOUGH. This is very common. The priest doesn't say anything wrong or heretical per se, but he makes a huge implication about the nature of the Faith in what he leaves out of his homily, in what he does not say.  If the homilist were a literary critic and speaking on “King Lear”, he’d say, "a daughter should be nice to her father". Well, true, but that sure leaves a lot out.

If your homilist Doesn't Get it Wrong, but Doesn't Get it Right Enough ... it might be a bad homily.

4. SHECKY GREEN PRESENTS

If your homilist tells more jokes than Heny Youngman with a fiddle ... it might be a bad homily.

5. IT'S ALL ABOUT ME

A quote from a homily I once heard: "My mother suffered. My grandmother suffered. My grandmother made my mother suffer. My father suffered. My father made my grandmother suffer. My grandmother made my father and my mother suffer. Our house was filled with suffering." Note to homilist: we are not your therapists, and that's way too much personal information.

The corollary to "It's All about Me" is "It's All about the Musicians". And we all know what that message sounds like.

So, if your priest or deacon sees the Gospel as a Rorschach of his dysfunctional background ... it might be a bad homily.

6. I’M SO HOLY I HARDLY BREATHE

This infects all of the liturgy and not just the homily. It's the mistaken attitude that going ... really ... slowly ... means you're being ... really ... pious.

If the homily and the Lord's Prayer both take the same amount of time, 40 to 45 minutes each ... it might be a bad homily.

7. AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR

If anyone other than a priest or deacon is invited to talk in place of the homily and solicits contributions ... it might be a bad homily.  (In fact, technically it’s not a homily at all.)

8. WE'RE JUST FINE, THANK YOU

This homily is used for school assemblies, eulogies of the retiring but still living, and for that dreaded monster, Catholic Schools Week. It consists of praising everything about the person or institution being honored, when in reality things are a mess and everyone knows it.

If Principal Power-Grab is praised to no end, even after teaching your kids pop-Buddhism and no-math ... it might be a bad homily.

9. I HAVE SO MUCH LEARNING I'M PRACTICALLY AN ATHEIST. JOIN ME, WON'T YOU?

Any time the priest says, "The alleged author of the Gospel of John" or "The Q Source for this reading" or "scholars know this didn't really happen, but this was included to make a point" ... it might be a bad homily. You'd do better watching a Discovery Channel special.

10. THE POSTURE-PEDIC

When a homilist twists the faith to suit our tastes … it might be a bad homily.

11. LISTEN!  I’M LISTLESS!

See the “All Saints” homily described above.  If the homily fits none of the other classifications, but still leaves you feeling like crud, sleepy, annoyed, on the verge of despondency, wondering why you came and why you could learn as much about the Christian Faith from watching “Oprah” … it might be a bad homily.

12. DELIBERATELY MISSING THE POINT.

My favorite example of this is the probably-copyrighted Liberal homily on “Who do you say that I am?”  Although the Gospel reading makes it astonishingly clear that there is a right and a wrong answer to this question, the homilist will say, “Who do YOU say Jesus is?  Who is he to YOU?  Look inside yourself and find out who YOU say he is.  It’s all about YOU.”  The other one is turning the miracles of the loaves into miracles of “sharing”.

If you begin to wonder why heretics are no longer burned at the stake … it might be a bad homily.

Anyway, more next time … including how to begin to combat this stuff.

October 28th, 2009If “It’s a Wonderful Life” were made today ...by Kevin O'Brien

GEORGE:  I’m gonna jump, I tell you!  I’m gonna jump!

CLARENCE:  Don’t jump, George.  I’m Clarence, a benevolent illusion.

GEORGE:  I thought you were my guardian angel.

CLARENCE:  Who’s to say what I really am?  If it helps you personally to believe in angels, then fine, that’s what I am to you.  I might be something else to someone who doesn’t believe in angels.  And that’s OK.  It’s the belief that matters, not the object of belief.

GEORGE:  Why are you here?

CLARENCE:  I’m here to cheer you up.

GEORGE:  You’re not doing very good so far.

CLARENCE:  Look, you want to jump because you think life is pointless, right?

GEORGE:  Right.

CLARENCE:  Well, that’s just the chemicals in your brain getting you down.  Find some good pharmaceuticals and you’ll be fine.  And the good news is you live in the best time ever – Obama (here Clarence reverently bows) will make certain that everybody will get anything they ever wanted or desired – including the chemicals, anodynes and soporifics that help us get through this miserable mistake of happenstance that we call existence.

GEORGE:  Say, you’re screwy!  You’re nuts!  I’m going home to Mary and the kids!

CLARENCE:  They don’t exist.

GEORGE:  What do you mean?

CLARENCE:  They’re mere concatenations.

GEORGE:  Huh?

CLARENCE:  Random groupings of atoms to which you foolishly assign names and identities.

GEORGE:  They’re real, I tell you!  They’re real!

CLARENCE:  The names are real, but the things they signify are not.  There is no “Mary”, no “Bobby”, no “Zu-Zu”.  These are simply names you apply to absurdity, labels you put on meaninglessness.  But that’s OK!  Whatever gets you through the night, man.  I’m in no position to be judgmental.  Hell, I’m a benevolent illusion myself.  Oh, Christ, sometimes I get so depressed!  (buries his face in his hands)

GEORGE:  Why don’t we go to Martini’s Tavern and I’ll get you a drink?  Maybe that will cheer you up.  Come on, little fellah.

CLARENCE:  (wailing) Oh, what’s the point?  Every day it’s the same damn thing – come up with meaning in a world that has none!  Come up with meaning in a world that has none!  Confront the abyss with your own belief-system!  Confront the abyss with your own belief-system!  It’s exhausting, I tell you!

GEORGE:  You don’t have to work so hard, Clarence.  There is meaning in life.  There’s truth. There’s love.

CLARENCE:  If by truth you mean the comfort of lies and if by love you mean the working of our gonads, I completely agree with you.

GEORGE:  (growing angry) My wife Mary is not the product of the working of my gonads!  She’s the woman I love!

CLARENCE:  (laughs cynically, lights a cigarette, plugs in his ipod, ignores him)

GEORGE:  (heaves him over the bridge, brushes himself off, goes back to his life, exorcised, renewed, happy)

October 26th, 2009Dappled Things…and ninjas!by Eleanor Bourg Donlon

Dear Friends,

Hi, this message is all about ninjas Dappled Things,* THE NEW ISSUE OF DAPPLED THINGS. This message is awesome. My name is Bernardo and I can’t stop thinking about the new issue. This issue is cool; and by cool, I mean totally sweet.

Facts:

1. Dappled Things is made by mammals. Rational mammals.
2. Dappled Things is awesome ALL the time.
3. The purpose of Dappled Things is to flip out and kill bad writing.

 The new issue’s weapons and gear:
 
1. Fiction by best-selling science fiction writer John C. Wright, as well as an interview with him that you will LOVE—if you know what’s good for you. “Oh, what’s the big deal?” you foolishly ask. Fine, I’ll give you a sample. But if you don’t like it, there’s no hope for you, and you need to go away and read some Dan Brown. Here is a totally sweet passage:

I first noticed the angel across the platform when I went in to buy my ticket. Admittedly, the sight made me nervous. I nonchalantly tried to keep him in view and I even bought a newspaper so I could hide my face while staring, just like a spy in a bad sitcom.

2. Killer stories by Tony France, Fiorella de Maria, and Gerald C. Matics.
3. Ninja outfit Sweet new cover design.
4. Essays that will explode your brain with their awesomeness, like Michael L. Ortiz’s “Some Remarks on Autism and Catholicism” or the second part of Eileen Cunis’s “On the Vocation of the Christian Artist.” In his sweet essay, Mr. Ortiz, who has Asperger Syndrome, gives us a window into his mind:

The first thing that some people notice upon meeting me is that I do not make eye contact. This is not because I am shy or devious; eye contact simply overloads my senses and makes me unable to think. To me, eyes are like the sun, which blinds by its excess of light. Furthermore, faces refuse to resolve themselves into recognizable composites for me: they remain mere assortments of features. . . . Sometimes I fail to recognize acquaintances, and sometimes I mistake strangers for friends. I once recognized my wife’s nose from a distance in a crowded public place, well before I realized that my wife was attached to it.

If you don’t think that sounds like a TOTALLY COOL essay, then go away and sit at the loser’s table, ’cause you obviously don’t have a clue.
 
5. Poetry and art so absurdly strong that they’ll leave you weeping like a little girl. Yeah, that’s right. Run to Mommy.
 
The new issue is so crazy and awesome that it flips out ALL the time. I heard that there was a copy of the new issue that was eating at a diner. And when some dude split an infinitive, the copy killed the whole town. (Metaphorically.) My friend said that he saw a copy totally uppercut some kid just because he didn’t understand that beauty is the enjoyment that comes from the contemplation of being.
 
And that’s what I call Ultimate Literary Power!
 
If you don’t believe that the new issue of Dappled Things has Ultimate Literary Power, you better get a life right now or it will chop your head off! (Intellectually.) It’s an easy choice, if you ask me.
 
Also, the new issue (and every issue) is soooo sweet that you need to buy a subscription now for all of your friends. I can’t believe how good it is sometimes, but I feel it inside my heart. This issue is totally awesome, and that’s a fact. It is fast, smooth, cool, strong, powerful, and sweet. I can’t wait to read all of it. I love Dappled Things with all of my intellect (including my aesthetic sense).
 
Q and A:
 
Q: Why is everyone so obsessed about Dappled Things?
A: Dappled Things is the ultimate paradox. On the one hand, it doesn’t care for the fads and fallacies of contemporary culture, but on the other hand, it’s at the cutting edge.
 
Q: I heard that ninjas the editors of Dappled Things are always cruel or mean. What’s their problem?
A: Whoever told you that is a total liar. Just like other mammals who love good writing, the editors can be mean OR totally awesome.
 
Q: What do issues of Dappled Things do when they’re not killing fallacies or flipping out?
A: Most of their free time is spent flying, but sometimes they build cathedrals. (Ask Matthew Alderman if you don’t believe me.)
 
If you are ready for Ultimate Literary Power, then come to our website now. Don’t come if you liked Confessions of a Shopaholic. (SERIOUSLY.)
 
Sincerely in Christ,
 
Bernardo Aparicio García
President, Dappled Things
 
* Editor-in-Chief’s Note: The hardworking, fun-loving, and (figuratively) nunchaku-wielding staff of Dappled Things takes no responsibility for injuries incurred by a too literal reading of the comparison of utterly awesome literary writing’s effect on the mind to that of ninjas on the body. Any resemblance to actual ninjas, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

October 26th, 2009An Iberian Resurrection?by Joseph Pearce

Sudden and still – hurrah!
Bolt from Iberia!
Don John of Austria
Is gone by Alcalar.
 
These are Chesterton’s rousing lines about Don John of Austria en route to his victory at Lepanto in 1571, passing “by Alcalar”, the site of a Christian victory over the Moors in 1246. Chesterton’s poem and the Church Militant that it glorifies continue to resonate in our own beleaguered days in which the old Islamic foe is assisted by the apparent death wish of modern Europe. Today, as in the thirteenth and sixteenth centuries, Europe needs a champion to whom its people can rally. It was, therefore, with a leap of the heart that I heard about the recent mass rally in Madrid in which more than a million people protested against the socialist government’s plan to promote abortion on demand. A broad cross-section of Spanish society was represented, according to the BBC's Madrid correspondent – “old and young, parents with babies, priests, nuns, immigrant families and organised groups coached in from all over the country”. This pro-life army gathered in the heart of Madrid under an enormous blue banner the height of a two-storey building emblazoned with the simple message: "Every life matters." It is unlikely that Spain’s socialist prime minister, Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero, will heed the words of the protesters. His anti-Catholic government has already legalized homosexual “marriage” and has undermined the traditional family still further by liberalizing divorce laws. Nonetheless, one has to hope that this huge demonstration, this “bolt from Iberia”, represents the resurrection of Iberian resistance to the culture of death and the destruction of Europe that it portends.
 
The sight of such a healthy army of Catholic Christians on the march against the infidel in Iberia reminds us of the heroics of El Cid and Don John, but it also reminded me of a huge crowd of pilgrims in Portugal, a few short years ago. I was in Lisbon, one of my favourite cities, giving some talks as part of a Eucharistic conference. The culmination of the conference was the procession of the statue of Our Lady of Fatima   through the centre of the city. I couldn’t believe how many people followed behind the statue, singing hymns. It must have equalled the number of pro-life demonstrators in Madrid. Hundreds of thousands, more than a million, carrying torches and marching behind the Mother of God in a stunning show of devotion. It was simply breathtaking. A sea of torches as far as the eye could see. An ocean of faith! Next morning, national television reported this stunning event by showing a handful of old ladies, some hours before the huge crowds gathered, singing out of tune. This was the image that the secular media sought to project: a handful of old women, destined to die within a few years along with the superstitions they cherish. They did not show film footage of the sea of flame, nor did they show the cross-section of Portuguese society that was present: “old and young, parents with babies, priests, nuns, immigrant families and organised groups”. Such footage would show the truth but it would not show the people what their political and media masters want them to see. We have to be cajoled into thinking that the Faith is finished and that, to echo Nietzsche, God is dead. The fact remains, however, that God is not dead and nor is His Church. Perhaps these examples of the Church Militant on the march are indeed the first stirrings of an Iberian resurrection. Perhaps the ghost of Don John is stirring:
 
Vivat Hispania!
Domino Gloria!
Don John of Austria
Has set his people free! 

October 26th, 2009Facebook Folliesby Kevin O'Brien

After swearing off the Vast Vacuity that is Facebook  for some weeks, I am back on.  I still think there’s a way to make it worthwhile, perhaps by kicking off all the friends who are giving me grief – kind of like life.

Anyway, I am learning from Facebook the appalling state of Reason in the post-modern world.  I link there to my posts here at the Ink Desk, and I often receive comments there on my posts here.  My point in my most recent post (“The Sterility of Culture” – see below) was, “We use various ways to opt out of life and retreat into self-indulgent shells and this is part of the Culture of Sterility”.  One of the Facebook commenters said, “Stop bashing technology!  Ipods and computer networking are not bad things!”  Thus he confused my critique of ends (cutting oneself off from interaction) with a critique of means (the technology used to do so).

Elsewhere on Facebook I was very critical of the five bishops from the USCCB who issued a statement on Catholic – Jewish relations in which they said dialogue with the Jews, “'has never been and never will be used by the Catholic Church as a means of proselytism,” nor is it a “disguised invitation to baptism”, a statement I called “despicable”.  To deny the Great Commission is perhaps worse than Peter’s three-fold denial of Our Lord.

This elicited at least one strong objection from a Facebook commenter who compared interfaith dialogue with the Jews to setting up a law firm in which one partner is Christian and one is Jewish and they both agree to “leave religion out of the office”.  He went on to say that we should not be heavy handed when it comes to evangelization and that listening is as important as talking, etc.

Again we have confusion of means with ends.   Our end in all of our dealings with all people should be to call them to baptism, and to proselytize by showing forth our love for Jesus.  There is never any dialogue or human interaction in which this end  - the call to salvation, either by our silent witness or our spoken witness  - should be ignored or renounced.  Thus what I call despicable is not the bishops’ assurance to the Jews that we will listen to them and not try to strong-arm them into baptism (means they did not renounce) but the assurance to the Jews that we will not proselytize them nor call them to baptism (ends they did renounce).

But there’s a creeping devil at the root of this.  The confusion of my Facebook friends leads to something dark and sickly and ultimately insane.

If I were to sit down for an interfaith dialogue with a Jew, a Muslim, and an atheist, for example, I would certainly hope that each of them would try to proselytize me, try to convert me to their own faiths or points of view.  If any of them were so lackluster about his faith or his philosophy that he wouldn’t bother to try to convert me to it, I would wonder what kind of thing this faith or philosophy of his was and why, if he thought it was right or true, he would not try to make a case for it and defend it.

This post-modern tentativity, this squeamishness and unwillingness to commit, this desire to “leave religion out of the office”, even when the “office” is a room where an interfaith dialogue is supposed to occur, is all based on the dreadful lie that religion is a private subjective thing, a mere matter of taste, a benevolent delusion that has no bearing on the truth or on reality.  What gives the lie to this lie is that it is not content to hold itself to religion – it spreads to everything.  The devil overplays his hand.  He not only denies that God is truth but denies that anything can be true.

And so we can not discuss anything, for it is no longer allowed that we can take a stand on anything or convince another that we believe in anything. Without truth there can be no Reason, and without Reason you end up with the post-modern malaise, including the bizarre field of communication called Facebook where discussion has taken a back seat to flashy pictures and “status updates”.

Whether my Facebook friends who read this post can manage to see past the emotional diversions of the Jewish issue, the discomfort when a layman criticizes anti-Christian bishops, or the bare mention of the word “atheist” remains to be seen.  Comments, anyone?

October 13th, 2009Joseph Pearce at Notre Dameby Joseph Pearce

Catholicism lecture celebrates C.S. Lewis

By: Tess Civantos
Posted: 10/7/09

Although C.S. Lewis made fun of Catholics as a teen, he was actually incredibly close to being Catholic himself, associate professor of Literature and Writer-in-Residence at Ave Maria University Joseph Pearce said in a lecture Tuesday.

Pearce's lecture was the third of four in the "Close to Catholic: A Celebration of Kindred Spirits" series, sponsored by the Center for Ethics and Culture.

Pearce has a close personal connection to Lewis' story. Both converted after reading G.K. Chesterton's writings - Pearce from agnosticism to Catholicism and Lewis from atheism to Anglicanism.

Having published "C.S. Lewis and the Catholic Church" in 2003, Pearce is considered a C.S. Lewis expert.

Pearce began his lecture with a story. Russell Kirk, a prominent American conservative thinker, was once asked, ""If C.S. Lewis were alive today, would he be Catholic?' Kirk responded, 'Probably.'"

Pearce traced the four phases of the Catholic literary revival, which began with Wordsworth and Coleridge and concluded with "the Inklings," a club of Oxford professors that included Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.

The conundrum, Pearce said, is that Lewis was not Catholic.

"Lewis saw himself as resolutely on the side of orthodox theology and as a great enemy of theological modernism," Pearce said. Lewis saw theological modernism as a poor dilution of Christianity, he explained.

"He was a great ally of Chesterton's view that orthodoxy is something dynamic that changes hearts, changes minds and changes society."

Pearce said Tolkien attributed Lewis' steadfast Anglicanism to his patriotic roots, since he was born in historically Protestant Northern Ireland.

"If you asked Tolkien why Lewis never became Catholic, he's answer you in three words," Pearce said. "The Ulsterior motive." Ulster is another name for Northern Ireland.

As a teen at boarding school in England, the atheist Lewis wrote home to his father about "the crazy Papists and popery" of the Anglican High Church, but it was there that he first thought religion could have substance.

Lewis served in World War I and he first encountered Chesterton while recovering at a hospital in France. Chesterton's "Everlasting Man" showed Christ as the center of history. Reading this view of Christianity was "a major milestone on Lewis's path back to Christian belief."

Lewis began to believe in God, but "he didn't much like God" since he saw God as a vivisecting, controlling being, Pearce said.

The final crucial step in Lewis' conversion was a conversation with J.R.R. Tolkien, whose love of mythology had originally made the two men friends.

"Lewis said that myths are lies," Pearce said.

Christianity, meanwhile, is itself a myth "but it's the true myth, with God Himself as the storyteller," he said.

Shortly after this conversation, Lewis converted to Anglicanism.

Later in his life, Lewis attended the sacrament of confession, referred to his love for "the Blessed Sacrament" and repeatedly wrote about his belief in Purgatory.

Lewis never converted, but he wrote on his deathbed that he expected to be in Purgatory soon.

"To return to the Russell Kirk question, 'Is C.S. Lewis a Catholic?'" Pearce said, "I would say, if he's in purgatory, he is [Catholic] now."

© Copyright 2009 The Observer

October 10th, 2009Sterility can take many formsby Kevin O'Brien

First, there’s simply being too lazy or too preoccupied to produce anything.   This explains why, although Joseph Pearce cajoles his writers to blog regularly for The Ink Desk, I haven’t posted anything in over a month.  (Ha!  Little does Joseph know – writers are almost as unreliable as actors).

But more seriously than this, there’s the deliberate choice of sterility, of burying your talent in the ground.  This is something I’ve seen on a pathological level with the actors who have toured with me.  We might be in the midst of wonderful things, meeting wonderful people, seeing awesome sights – and the actors are plugged into their ipods or playing their game-boys or shifting uncomfortably on their feet, bored and nervous, dying for a cigarette or desperate to watch a video on their portable dvd player.  It’s a teen-age mentality, and it seems to last for some of these folks deep into their thirties.

This is a hallmark of the Culture of Death (or of the death of culture): young people addicted to the pathology of sterility, desperate to plug into any sensation that drugs away anxiety, that keeps them from the call to be engaged in the world around them, the call to be fruitful.  For if you don’t cultivate an interest in the world around you, if you don’t learn to appreciate natural beauty, interesting people, literature and music, you remain infantile – seeking a kind of onanistic stimulation that only serves to make you more and more miserable.

To my surprise, I’m not the only one in the Church musing about this Culture of Sterility (or sterility of culture).  This is from the most recent issue of the St. Louis Review:

“The bishop of the Diocese of Springfield-Cape Girardeau said, ‘All love tends toward an incarnation that requires the daily cultivation of the soul of our souls in holiness. It is a call that we must respond to anew each day to God’s question, “Where are you?”  Family life today is in crisis because it is formed in a mentality of sterility.  And we might even say the sacrament of this attitude is contraception within marriage.  Family life, and by extension the culture and the Church will only be renewed when the “domestic church” rediscovers its call to fruitfulness at every level.’”

The bishop of the Diocese of Springfield-Cape Girardeau (Missouri) is James V. Johnston, and while the Review quotes him as saying that love requires the daily “cultivation” of “the soul of our souls”, he more probably said, “the soil of our souls”.  Cultivation is cultivation of soil, and as farmers cultivate soil so that the seeds are better received and the crops grow and bear fruit, so must we cultivate the soil of our souls, so that (as in the parable of the sower – Mt. 13:1-23) the seed of God will be received and nurtured, not withered by our lack of care, our lack of “cultivation”.

Bishop Johnston makes a connection between this sterility of culture and the contraceptive mentality.  This is a very keen insight.

Think about the young “schlubs” we see around us, perpetually plugged in to their headphones, bored with anything that’s not some sort of anodyne.  What they are guarding against in building these walls of media drugs and alcohol about them is conception – having a concept, being struck by something outside of themselves that might really take root, grow forth, bear fruit.  This is the contraceptive mentality walking about in our midst.

“I have planted, Apolos watered, but God gave the increase,” St. Paul observes (1 Cor. 3:6) – but the increase will not come, for the mindset of Birth Control has infested our culture and made it an anti-culture, divorced us from the consequences of our actions, turned us into solipsists, narcissists, zombies.

May we all continue to pray for the renewal of Catholic Culture.

October 9th, 2009Preview of the November/December 2009 Issueby Joseph Pearce

The next issue of StAR is now safely in the hands of the graphic designer and I’m delighted to be able to offer a sneak preview. It’s another power-punching issue, this time on the theme of “Fides et Ratio: Faith and Philosophy”. Highlights include:
 
Father James V. Schall on “The Devil You Know: A Meditation on Evil”
Thomas Howard on von Hildebrand’s Nature of Love
William Dunn: “From Dust and Ashes to the God Above”
Donald DeMarco on “Philosophy and Intelligent Design”
David Rozema examines philosophy, “the science before science”
Enrique Sánchez Costa takes “the philosophical path to conversion”
The full colour art feature focuses on the work and artistic vision of Catholic artist Katie Schmid
Also featured is the work of Catholic artist, Ryan Hannigan
Massimo Sylvani travels to France in pursuit of the Great Books
Bernardo Aparicio Garcia compares the wisdom of Aristotle and Chesterton on virtue, moderation, and the good life
Al Benthall discusses Peter Kreeft on the philosophy of Jesus
Celebrated Catholic composer Michael Kurek posits the question: “What is Music?”
In similar vein, Susan Treacy looks at Music, Faith and Reason
Father Dwight Longenecker waxes philosophical: “Incarnation and the Moving Image: Towards a Christian Philosophy of Film”
Patrick G. D. Riley is as hard-hitting as ever in defence of the cause of Life
Michael D. Langan and Jef Murray take on the New Atheists
 
Don’t miss out! Subscribe now! See this site for details.

October 2nd, 2009Speaking Engagements for Octoberby Joseph Pearce

Tuesday, October 6 – University of Notre Dame Center for Ethics and Culture
Topic: C.S. Lewis and the Catholic Church
Contact for further details: Kathryn Wales
kathrynwales@nd.edu
(574) 631 3192
 
Sunday, October 18 – St. Joseph Parish, Cockeysville, Maryland
Topic: Shakespeare’s Catholicism
Contact for further details: Kevin P. Shields
kpshields@mac.com
 
Tuesday, October 27 – Ave Maria University, Florida
Topic: Unlocking the Catholicism of The Lord of the Rings
Contact for further details: Catherine Dailey
Catherine.dailey@avemaria.edu
 
Friday, October 30 – University of St. Thomas, Minnesota
Topic: Small is Good. Small is Beautiful. Small is Necessary.
Contact for further details: Deborah Savage
pdsavage@stthomas.edu

September 17th, 2009Christian Cultureby Andrew Thornton-Norris

Modernity might be defined as the age when mankind tried to do without God for the first time. The effect on culture has been extraordinarily stimulating. From the Renaissance and Reformation, through the Baroque reaction, the Enlightenment and Romanticism, and the Modernist reaction, Western culture has flourished.

Now however the impetus seems to have gone. Now that God has been so effectively removed from our society and culture, there seems to be no point in getting worked up about anything, no point in getting out of bed, so to speak. And the art and culture that is being produced is singularly tired and uninteresting. Postmodernism is the end of the line. So where next? Back the way we came?

In theology the current fashion - “Radical Orthodoxy” - is to see the whole modern experiment as just that, an experiment, which is now finished, and we can return to the certainties and security of the medieval, with its culmination in Thomas Aquinas. In poetry this produced Dante, probably the greatest poet of all time. But is this really possible in a relativist environment hostile to such certainties and security?

In fact it might be the environment most conducive to it. When the state no longer takes any view as to what moral or spiritual truth is, and allows its citizens full freedom of conscience. The medieval conflict between the temporal and the spiritual power which produced both corrupt Kings and corrupt Popes is over. The only danger is that that relativism should not become a dictatorship, restricting views with which it disagrees.

And the art that might be produced would be Christian, but not overtly so. Christianity would once again become the basic assumption, within which a person lives their life, and produces their goods. And Western culture would once again return to its Classical and Christian roots, and find there the energy and enthusiasm that it seems to have lost in cynicism and irony and disillusion.

September 15th, 2009An Ode to an Elderly Friendby Lorraine V. Murray

“Don't knock me over!” These are her words, delivered with laughter, when she sees me walking into the living room of her little condo, and heading toward her for a hug.

Her hair is smooth, her lipstick carefully applied, and she wears a ceramic rose pinned on her white sweater. Nearby is her walker, a device that she jokingly refers to as her Cadillac.

She lives alone, she is a widow, and she has the typical aches and ailments that accompany the journey of aging. But my friend Rose has discovered the true secret of a happy old age.

She once headed the psychiatric-mental health nursing unit at Emory University, and she has been retired for many years. Still, she has never slowed down. Instead, she has busied herself writing vignettes about the people who work at her senior residence. These are folks too often overlooked: the kitchen help, the clerks and the custodians. For each person, she wrote a little poem expressing her thanks.

But that wasn't enough. When she turned 94, she took on a new project: She would write the life stories of the people in the personal-care unit upstairs.

“Everyone has a story,” she assured me.

And if you ever thought getting older meant growing gloomy, Rose’s own story will help. She has a cheery cluster of friends – “my support group”-- consisting of her former graduate students from Emory. And although she can no longer drive, she happily awaits Cecilia from St. Thomas More Catholic church, who brings her Holy Communion.

In a society that seems to worship the sleek skin and firm figures of the young, Rose is a reminder that life does indeed go on after 50, after 60 --- even after 90! She is still serving the Lord in her own way. I often think about her when I read about the health-insurance overhaul, and how taking care of the elderly will be put last on the list.

When I stopped by the other day, Rose eagerly shared her latest poem, which is about aging. In it, she mentioned the typical perceptions people have of older folks. She pointed out how easy it is to judge them based on hearing aids, glasses and walkers.

The poem gently reminds us to look beneath the surface to see the true picture -- and it ended with her thanking her heavenly father for all his blessings. It seems the key to successful aging isn’t found in great wealth or abundant health. If you ask my friend Rose, I think she would say, quite simply, "The secret is being thankful."

-----------------

Lorraine’s latest book is “Death in the Choir,” a mystery set at a church in Decatur, Georgia. She will also be welcoming another book on October 6: “Abbess of Andalusia: Flannery O’Connor’s Spiritual Journey.”

September 6th, 2009Television of the Wordby Kevin O'Brien

Just a plug here for my television show, “The Theater of the Word”, which premieres this week on EWTN.  I am the host of a 13-part anthology series of Catholic drama, featuring performances by and interviews with folks from all over the States who are evangelizing through the dramatic arts.
 
The series airs on
 
Wednesdays at 1:00 pm Eastern (Noon Central / 10 am Pacific) and on
Saturdays at 4:00 pm Eastern (3:00 pm Central / 1:00 pm Pacific).
 
Episode one, which aired on Sept. 2, will be rebroadcast Saturday, Sept. 5, and will feature, among other things, clips from our coming episodes and interviews with Lola Falana, Fr. John Hogan of the Fraternity of St. Genesius, and even a brief chat with Shakespeare fan Joseph Pearce.
 
Next week’s episode will be “The Journey of St. Paul” – “shipwrecks, stonings, miracles and more! “ as we say in show biz.
 
While you’re at it, check out my actors and me in Dale Ahlquist’s series on G. K. Chesterton, “The Apostle of Common Sense”.  The fifth season of all-new episodes premieres this Sunday at 9:00 pm Eastern.

According to Dale, “This season features episodes on Language, the Problem of Evil, America, Islam, War, Parenthood, Priesthood, Modernism, and more. There will be a special episode on the Toy Theatre that you will NOT want to miss; there will be a whole new batch of 'Ask Mr. Chesterton'; and look for multiple appearances by that ex-seminarian Stanford Nutting. The kickoff episode will be about something called Truth. And, as always, we’ll be pre-empted by the Pope on a regular basis.”
 
And while you’re glued to the screen, don’t miss “The Quest for Shakespeare” which airs on Mondays at 5:30 pm Eastern, and which also features me and my actors – along with Shakespeare fan (and host) Joseph Pearce.  You’ve read the book – now watch the series!
 
Find out more about the “Theater of the Word” on EWTN at IMBD http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1489063/
 
Our episode list is here http://thwordinc.blogspot.com/2008/05/kevins-new-series.html

September 3rd, 2009Speaking Engagements for Septemberby Joseph Pearce

Here are my speaking engagements for the coming months. If I’m in your area come and introduce yourself!
 
Tuesday, September 8. “Unlocking the Catholicism of The Lord of the Rings”.
Naples, FL.
Contact: Veronica – 239-254-9730.
 
Saturday, September 19. “Size Matters: Government, Business and Power Envy”.
St. John’s University, Collegeville, MN.
Contact: Richard Aleman – societyfordistributism@gmail.com.
 
Saturday, September 26. “Standing on Our Heads: Wonder as the Key to Happiness”
St. John Fisher College, Rochester, NY.
Contact: Lou Horvath – rochesterton@hotmail.com
 
Sunday, September 27. “Catholic Responsibility in a Hostile Government”
St. John Fisher College, Rochester, NY.
Contact: Lou Horvath – rohcesterton@hotmail.com.
 
Next month, I’m at the University of Notre Dame on October 6 and at the University of St. Thomas in St Paul, MN on October 30. Details to follow …

September 3rd, 2009Tastelessby Eleanor Bourg Donlon

I scream. You scream. We all scream...at Ben and Jerry's.

It is not an incident that should bother me unduly -- I do not eat Ben and Jerry's ice cream and, moreover, think that the notion of mixing pretzels and ice cream sounds too much like a concoction thought up by drunken frat boys. The recent announcement, however, that Ben and Jerry's will temporarily change the name of their "Chubby Hubby" product to "Hubby Hubby" in celebration of Vermont's legalization of homosexual pseudo-marriage fills me with righteous fury as only the most flagrant demonstrations of evil and hypocrisy can.

Once again we are shown the semantic side of the moral war of our present age. As I discussed some weeks ago at The Catholic Thing website, once the vocabulary shifts, the conversation is unbalanced enough so that the true issue at hand is never really addressed. Often this insidious undermining of discourse proceeds with a degree of subtlety (How many people really recognize the invalidity of the term "homosexual" used to describe a state of being?); this is flagrant and market-driven. "Eat our ice cream and prove that you are not a close-minded, hard-hearted bigot!"—That is their message! Meanwhile, we must curtail our evangelical impulses and, when a companion sneezes, say nothing more than "Bless you!" (less is preferable, of course, but as long as one avoids the extremely divisive step of saying the "G-word" in such context, modern sensibilities may remain relatively unsullied by the experience).

On the gastronomical side I am also offended. How dare they impose their views on our treasured delicacies? The Caliphs of Baghdad (reportedly enamored of their own breed of chilly dairy desserts) were not subjected to this sort of offensive behavior. The Mughal emperors could enjoy a hearty bowl of the cold stuff in peace, without activists rushing in at them and trying to foist indecent connotations onto their colored sprinkles. Even the Emperor Nero, that twisted and tragic fellow, did not (to my knowledge) invest his icy bonne bouche with anti-Christian significance.

Bah!

September 2nd, 2009“Caritas in Veritate”: A Forumby Eleanor Bourg Donlon

Like all Church documents, Caritas in Veritate deserves continued and marked attention. The recent public forum should therefore be of interest (videos, we are told, are forthcoming). The panel was singularly impressive (Fr. Allen is a delightful, brilliant man and a family friend):

On the evening of August 26th, a crowd of 350 gathered at the Church of St. Vincent Ferrer for a public forum on Pope Benedict XVI's new encyclical, Caritas in Veritate. The panel of speakers included: Fr. Peter John Cameron, O.P., the editor-in-chief of Magnificat; Fr. Allen Moran, O.P., a professor of economics at Providence College; and the Most Reverend Timothy Dolan, the Archbishop of New York. Each speaker highlighted a certain aspect of the Holy Father's wise and in some ways innovative treatment of the Church's social doctrine. After the presentations, members of the audience addressed questions to the panel.

In the first presentation of the evening, Fr. Cameron reflected on Pope Benedict's concept of "human ecology." Employing numerous quotations from the encyclical itself, Fr. Cameron made clear the Pope's concern that the contemporary interest in conservation and ecology be shaped by an overarching concern for the conservation of human dignity. From the Christian point of view, the Pope argues, a proper and just concern for the environment can only be exercised from within a prior and larger concern for the human person and his flourishing. Through several poignant real-life illustrations, Fr. Cameron demonstrated the Holy Father's point. He explained that once a person discovers his inherent human dignity, which for many occurs through adversity and suffering, that dignity becomes something he naturally begins to protect not only in himself but also in others. This spontaneous drive to protect others' dignity, Fr. Cameron explained, points to the reality of "human ecology."

Fr. Allen then addressed the more practical aspects of Caritas in Veritate, particularly Pope Benedict's assessment of the economic crisis that currently grips a large portion of the world. After first distinguishing positive and normative economics, Fr. Moran demonstrated why this distinction is important. Positive economics, he explained, seeks simply to describe what is happening in the financial world. It reports on the ups and downs of financial activity and tries to uncover their causes. Not completely detached from positive economics, normative economics has a different goal. While it also tracks movements in the world's economies, at the same time it makes certain judgments about them against a measure that it considers normative. For example, whereas a positive economist might say that unemployment in America is at 9.5%, a normative economist would argue that the rate is too high (or too low, depending on his measure). From this basic distinction between positive and normative economics, Fr. Moran explained how Pope Benedict calls economists to work more within the normative realm, where they should feel obliged to make real judgments about economic activity against the norm of human dignity and the justice human nature requires for its full flourishing.

Finally, Archbishop Dolan described how in the encyclical Pope Benedict applies his famous "hermeneutic of continuity" to the Church's social tradition. In so doing, the Holy Father stresses that the social teaching of the Church stretching back to the late nineteenth century should be read as a whole, as one long normative commentary on the social implications of the Gospel, and not as divided moments in the tradition where certain teachings can be favored and others jettisoned. For example, there has recently opened up within the Church a contentious relationship between what Archbishop Dolan described as "economic and social justice" Catholics and "life justice" Catholics. Such a rift should not exist, he lamented. Instead, to wave the social justice banner of the Church is to concern oneself necessarily with poverty, education, health care, immigration, the environment, marriage and family, and first and foremost the promotion and protection of human life, from conception to natural death. Archbishop Dolan explained that reading Church's social doctrine, as Pope Benedict does, with a proper "hermeneutic of continuity" reveals the evangelical concern for human life and human dignity as the common thread that unites all of the Church's social teachings.

August 29th, 2009Edward Kennedy and Christ’s Toughest Commandmentby Joseph Pearce

On first hearing the news of Edward Kennedy’s death I was filled with mixed and conflicting emotions. I was sorry that a prominent Catholic had died without any apparent contrition for his unceasing support for in utero infanticide. I have no idea what transpired at his final confession (if indeed he made one), and one has to hope that he lamented his pivotal role in the deaths of millions of unborn children and that he expressed his contrition for such a role. One suspects, however, that such contrition was not present in his private moments since it was so patently absent from his public life. In any event, it is a crying shame that Kennedy died without publicly apologising for his support for abortion.
 
Along with my sorrow for Kennedy’s apparent lack of contrition, and therefore the apparent peril to the destiny of his immortal soul, I could not help feeling angry at the eulogising of Kennedy by the media. Tributes poured in from all directions, lauding him for his consistent support for the most vulnerable and poor members of society. This was really hard to stomach in the face of the most vulnerable members of society who had been killed with Kennedy’s blessing: more than fifty million of them since Roe v Wade. There truly is nothing more cynical and sickening than a secular canonization ceremony. But canonized he was. St. Ted the Child Killer! St. Ted the Slayer of the Unborn. God help us all …
 
Certainly, when listening to the media’s canonization of St. Ted, we find it difficult to avoid echoing the words of Christ that truly he has had his reward.
 
And yet the toughest thing about Kennedy’s death was the challenge it presents to each of us as Christians. We are called by Christ to love our neighbours, which is sometimes hard enough, and, which is much harder, to love our enemies. The real test of Kennedy’s death is whether we are able to genuinely pray for him; whether we are able to hope for his salvation. He was a miserable sinner, of that there’s no doubt; but we are miserable sinners also. And isn’t it easy to preen ourselves in the self-deceptive knowledge that the splinter in our own eye is a mere mote compared with the plank in Kennedy’s? Isn’t there a danger that we will be like the scribes, Pharisees and hypocrites in thanking the Lord that we are holy, unlike that miserable sinner, Kennedy? This is a danger that we must resist and a danger that we must pray for the grace to avoid.
 
As hard as it is, we must pray that Edward Kennedy does indeed become St. Ted. We must pray that he becomes a real saint, one who has inherited eternal life, and not merely a secular saint who inherits only the world’s reward. It is, of course, unthinkable that Kennedy could have gone straight to heaven. Purgatory awaits him (on the assumption that he has escaped hell) as it awaits the rest of us. It is, therefore, my parting wish, and my prayer, that Edward Kennedy has many sorrowful years in purgatory ahead of him.

August 28th, 2009Vocational Recruitmentby Eleanor Bourg Donlon

Hat Tip: Dominican Province of St. Joseph, Order of Preachers

Also worth a glance -- and more! -- is the work of Melissa Scarlett.

August 26th, 2009The Cultivation of Saintsby Kevin O'Brien

Duluth, Minnesota

I’ve been coming to Duluth performing shows for about ten years now with my ragged assortment of actors.  There are glimpses of striking beauty around here, especially Split Rock Lighthouse, north of here, the most beautiful lighthouse on earth – placed high on a cliff above the waves crashing upon the shore of Lake Superior.  It is one of the most stunning sights you can imagine.

One actress saw it and turned away crabby, looking for a place to smoke.

And I thought, part of education, of building a culture, is training people to understand Beauty – along with Truth and Goodness.  Learning to read poetry or to appreciate good music or to read a novel, or for that matter to read a person – these are things without which we are less than what we should be; things without which we turn from manifestations of God and revel bitterly in our own addictions.

After writing about Catholic Culture and the Chesterton Conference (see below), I read John Senior’s marvelous book “The Death of Christian Culture”.  Senior writes

“Culture, as in ‘agriculture,’ is the cultivation of the soil from which men grow.  To determine proper methods, we must have a clear idea of the crop.  ‘What is man?’ the Penny Catechism asks, and answers: ‘A creature made in the image and likeness of God, to know, love and serve Him.’  Culture, therefore, clearly has this simple end, no matter how complex or difficult the means. … All the paraphernalia of our lives, intellectual, moral, social, psychological, and physical, has this end: Christian culture is the cultivation of saints.”

And step one, as Chesterton would tell you, is to wonder at the world God has made and to lift up your hearts in thanksgiving, while our churches have lost the Fear of God, our lives have lost Wonder, and we are crabby addicts dying for a smoke.  May we all turn from our selfish petty sins to Wonder at the world and to Fear the Lord Who made it.  That is the beginning of Culture.

August 22nd, 2009Priests Bring Christ’s Light into Our Livesby Lorraine V. Murray

It is so easy to criticize priests. This one delivers dull sermons. That one is always asking for money.. The other one sings off-key.

And of course many lay people think they know the perfect cure for whatever ails any particular priest. “Oh, if the Church would just let them get married,” they say, “everything would be fine.”

These folks forget, obviously, that marriage isn’t a cure-all for anyone’s problems, judging from the rate of divorce in our nation. Still, it is quite true that one of the great sacrifices of the priesthood is giving up a wife and a family. But the very fact that so many men continue to be called to the priesthood reveals the deep supernatural stream that runs beneath the vocation.

How else to explain the attraction to a job that pays very little money, requires impossibly long hours and demands that you give up the comforts of marriage?

From the secular perspective, it makes no sense at all. But from the secular perspective, the love of Jesus Christ also makes no sense. And it is this love that sustains priests: not only their longing for Christ, but his tender heartfelt compassion toward them.

Many years ago, Southern writer Flannery O’Connor pointed out how easy it is to criticize priests. In fact, she said, any child could find fault with a sermon on his way home from Sunday Mass. But it was impossible, she said, for that same child to see the bigger picture: to understand the “hidden love that makes a man, in spite of his intellectual limitations, his neuroticism, his own lack of strength, give up his life to the service of God’s people, however bumblingly he may go about it.”

In fact, even the most “bumbling” priest can make a deeper difference in a person’s life than an investor, a surgeon or a professor. A professor can open the door to knowledge, an investor may show the way to huge wealth and a surgeon may cure a disease.

But a priest can gently lead a person in darkness to the light of Christ. He can nudge one who might otherwise end up in hell onto the road to heaven. And given that our earthly lives may equal 80 years at best, while the after-life has no end, it would seem the conclusion is obvious: The work of a priest is the most important in the world.

This was brought home to me recently when my brother-in-law was hospitalized for a very long time at a Catholic hospital in Oklahoma City. Although he is Catholic, my brother-in-law is the type of guy who finds fault with organized religion. You probably know people like him. Somehow, the fact that the local priest isn’t perfect or the local congregation harbors sinners is enough to make these folks bitter, and keep them from going to Mass.

But the great thing about hospital chaplains is they bring Christ to the very bedside of the patient. Now the disgruntled Catholic can no longer complain that the Church demands too much money in the collection basket, because the chaplain asks for no money at all. The disgruntled Catholic can’t rail about Church hierarchy, because this one humble and smiling chaplain sits at the bedside, listening compassionately to the patient.

My brother-in-law received Holy Communion daily when he was hospitalized repeatedly over a series of months, as he battled cancer. The priest who really broke through to him was 82 years old and retired. And my niece described this priest very well: “He lights up the room when he walks in.”

And that, of course, is the essence of being a good priest. A good priest brings the light and love of Christ into every room, into every house and into every heart.

Pope Benedict XVI has launched a “Year of the Priest,” a special time to encourage priests as they strive to improve spiritually. It would be wonderful to attend Mass and offer our Communion for the priests who have touched our lives. They have given up wealth, family and prestige to serve us. They don’t expect awards, accolades, bonuses or benefits. But I have never known a priest who would turn down a prayer.

Lorraine's latest book is "Death in the Choir," a mystery set in Decatur, Georgia, and featuring murder and mayhem among choir members at a Catholic church.

August 21st, 2009Chesterton in Africaby Joseph Pearce

Further to Kevin's post about the Chesterton conference in Seatle and my more recent post about the Chesterton Crusade in Chile, here is news of a superb Chestertonian intiative in Sierra Leone in Africa. The new Chesterton Centre will practise the sort of distributist principles that GKC and Belloc always advocated and will do so in a way that responds to the need for subsidiarity elucidated by Pope Benedict XVI in his recent encyclical, Caritas in Veritate. Please click on the link for more details: www.secondspring.co.uk/economy/africaproject

August 20th, 2009Chesterton in Chileby Joseph Pearce

I was pleased to read Kevin O'Brien's recent post in which he waxed lyrical on the rambunctious splendour of this year's Chesterton Conference in Seattle. My reading of his article was not, however, untainted by a degree of wistfulness bordering on envy. I have always had such a great time at this annual Chestertonian cornucopia and fiesta that the year almost seems incomplete when I'm unable to attend it. This year, however, I had the consolation of attending a conference of the New York C. S. Lewis Society, which was held in Queens on the same weekend as the Chesterton gathering. If one is unable to spend the weekend with Chesterton, it is hardly a major sacrifice if one is able to spend the weekend with Lewis instead! I spoke on "Narnia and Middle-earth: When Two Worlds Collude", ensuring that the weekend was spent with Tolkien as well as Lewis. Although I arrived too late to enjoy all the talks on offer, I managed to catch the tail-end of an excellent talk on Lewis' The Abolition of Man, a power-point presentation on the wonderful art that has been used to illustrate the work of George Macdonald, and a lecture by the formidable Jesuit and StAR contributor, Father Koterski, on Lewis' Till We Have Faces.

As the Lewis conference drew to a close, I left for JFK airport to fly to Chile, the purpose of which was una cruzada por G.K. Chesterton (A Chesterton Crusade), organized by the Universidad Gabriela Mistral (UGM), a Catholic university in Santiago. Flying overnight, I arrived in Santiago on Monday, August 10th. Over the next four days, I spoke on the campus of UGM, at two high schools, at the auditorium of the Military Academy (twice), and at the Naval Academy in Valparaiso. Most of the talks were on the theme, "G.K. Chesterton and the Key to Happiness", though I also gave a talk on Narnia and Middle-earth to an enthusiastic audience of high school students, and a lecture on "Chesterton and Education" to a gathering of literature professors and teachers.

I was privileged to be able to say a few words at the official launch of Red Cultural (Culture Net), a new full-colour magazine of Catholic culture similar to StAR, edited by Magdalena Merbilhaa. Articles in the first issue were on topics such as King Arthur, Tolkien and the First World War, The Mystery of the Pyramids, The Art of the Sistine Chapel, and two articles on Chesterton. Spanish translations of two of my own articles were published in the first issue: "The Resurrection of Chesterton" and "Shakespeare's Shocking Catholicism", both published originally in Catholic World Report.

Sandwiched between the talks were a radio interview and an interview with El Mercurio, the largest circulation newspaper in Chile. The latter interview was published last Friday and included discussions of Chesterton, Tolkien, Shakespeare, Wilde and literary converts in general. I flew home on Saturday, exhausted and exhilarated, and very grateful that I had managed to serve as a humble knight in the Chesterton Crusade.        

August 16th, 2009A Culture of Lifeby Kevin O'Brien

I’ve been to the mountain and back again.

That’s my report from the annual American Chesterton Society Conference.  That’s always my report.  The conference is a kind of Mount of Transfiguration where we see things more clearly than we do below; it is a place where lovers of Chesterton and lovers of the Lord he loved get together to socialize, share ideas, and celebrate something you don’t see much these days … Catholic Culture.  True, not every fan of Chesterton is Catholic, but the Culture that is his cultus is entirely Catholic and overflowing with health and joy.

A few things struck me at this year’s conference, held in Seattle, Washington.  The first was seeing people like authors Mark Shea, Rod Bennett, Dale Ahqluist and Chesterton bibliographer Geir Hasnes deliver compelling and fascinating lectures that were entirely orthodox.  We’ve come to think that intellectuals are narrow, selfish, cynical and despicable people.  On the contrary, the Chestertonians are true intellectuals, whose minds and hearts have been remade by faith.  These are men who sacrifice none of their intellects; indeed, their minds are all the more acute for being cured of the sickness of the culture of death.  True learning and scholarship is not what is on display at most of our colleges and universities; true learning and scholarship prepares us to receive the gifts of Understanding and Wisdom – gifts of the Holy Spirit – which bear the fruit of joy and exuberance.

I don’t think many of the Chestertonians at this year’s conference are joyful because they are successful in the eyes of the world.  Some of them may be published authors, but this does not usually translate into worldly riches.  In fact, many of them seem to be poor but happy.  It’s not the world that gives them joy; it’s their love for Chesterton and his love for Our Lord.  It’s a marvelous, brilliant group, and more astonishing than their joy is what God is working through them – and through me.

Somehow, despite much resistance and doubt on my part, the American Chesterton Society, with help from either me or my company, the Theater of the Word Incorporated, has managed to produce a full-length feature motion-picture, “Manalive”, from the novel by Gilbert Keith Chesterton, as well as a Father Brown episode in my upcoming EWTN series “The Theater of the Word”.  The Father Brown episode and an extended scene from “Manalive” premiered at the conference to rave reviews.  And though it was an easy audience to please, both the episode and the movie are going to be tremendous – both acting and production are entirely professional, and the writing, based on Chesterton, is unbeatable.

So as I returned from the conference awash with what God is doing via the intercession of our man Gilbert, I was also infused with a sense of this thing, this atmosphere, this nutrition we call Culture.

What is Catholic Culture?  Catholic Culture is not the music of Marty Haugen.  Catholic Culture is not banners and liturgical dance.  Catholic Culture is neither the mind games of the liberals nor the Puritan paranoias of the radical traditionalists.  Catholic Culture used to be what we see at the annual Chesterton Conference – a group of like-minded individuals whose gifts are ordered to Faith, Hope, and Love, expressed through writing, art, drama, music, and more.

One of the reasons so many of us are falling away from the Faith is the Faith can not exist in a vacuum.  If the Faith is not alive in a Culture, it is too easily perverted or ignored.  When the only culture we have is a culture of death, it is hard to imagine how things look upon the mountain top, how everything in life was coherent for Newman and Chesterton and Belloc, how the Body of Christ is not just Sunday gatherings and parish picnics and pot-lucks, but more than that - the Body of Christ is an entire culture, artistic, intellectual, aesthetic.  It is the family and the school, the life and the liturgy.  It is everything that makes us happy.  Or it should be.

Culture is like agriculture, it is the soil and the working of the soil that sustains us, the nutrients that surround us and that raise us up to grow and bear fruit.  May we all be servants of the true Catholic Culture, without which we may very well wither and blow away.

August 15th, 2009In response to a letter accusing the Pope of heresy on the Four Last Things ...by Ferdi McDermott

Dear Jennifer,

Thanks for the letter and enclosure you sent me a while back. In them you suggested a dialogue about the popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI. You also implied that perhaps they were not popes at all.

Your main problem was that they emphasised universal salvation and thereby - you thought - effectively denied all the Church’s doctrine about sin and the need for redemption from it.

You took issue with the idea that “hell is not God’s initiative”; that souls send themselves to Hell.
My response is not going to be sophisticated, I’m afraid. I think that if you want to find texts to hang the popes with, you can find them. I have plenty of texts that people have sent me that do this, if you ignore all the other evidence. Taken in context, and in a spirit of docility, they are not for me a source of impossible dilemmas.

The Second Vatican Council asks us to give an assent of our intellect and will the frequent and clearly expressed teaching of the Pope. You complain that texts you have seen are doctrinally unclear. Seek clarification from the official doctrinal pronouncements and teachings of these same popes, and especially the Catechism, which John Paul II intended as an authoritative text.
Another key point is that it is the CCC that is in the hands of all the faithful now. I had never before read the extracts you sent me, and I doubt many others have. But I have many times consulted and studied the CCC. It seems to me the most natural place for a Catholic to go to find out what the Church (or its errant leaders, if you prefer) is saying.
I do not find it unclear on these matters.

You say that John Paul II and Benedict XVI give us a religion where man is not free. I say the same of the religion you seem to propose in your letter. You suggest that man is not free because he is forced to go to Heaven whether he likes it or not.

Well, I typed in Hell in a search engine for the Catechism and this is what I got:

1035 The teaching of the Church affirms the existence of hell and its eternity. Immediately after death the souls of those who die in a state of mortal sin descend into hell, where they suffer the punishments of hell, "eternal fire." The chief punishment of hell is eternal separation from God, in whom alone man can possess the life and happiness for which he was created and for which he longs.

Does God take the intiative on damnation? No, says the Catechism:

1037 God predestines no one to go to hell; for this, a willful turning away from God (a mortal sin) is necessary, and persistence in it until the end. In the Eucharistic liturgy and in the daily prayers of her faithful, the Church implores the mercy of God, who does not want "any to perish, but all to come to repentance":
Father, accept this offeringfrom your whole family.Grant us your peace in this life,save us from final damnation,and count us among those you have chosen. (Roman Canon)

What is mortal sin, any way? What does the same book say?

Well, there are all the classic definitions of full knowledge and full consent etc, as well as gravity of matter, but then the Catechism also speaks of our freedom to chose everlasting hell, by our un-repented rejection of God through sin:

1861 Mortal sin is a radical possibility of human freedom, as is love itself. It results in the loss of charity and the privation of sanctifying grace, that is, of the state of grace. If it is not redeemed by repentance and God's forgiveness, it causes exclusion from Christ's kingdom and the eternal death of hell, for our freedom has the power to make choices for ever, with no turning back. However, although we can judge that an act is in itself a grave offense, we must entrust judgment of persons to the justice and mercy of God.

You speak of the drama of sin and repentance, of privation of grace and the return to it, a drama, which according to you, the new popes would take away from us. Yet the Catechism is rich with talk of this, and almost always mentions hell or the death of the soul every time it mentions mortal sin. It also reminds us of the importance of our final moments:

1014 The Church encourages us to prepare ourselves for the hour of our death. In the ancient litany of the saints, for instance, she has us pray: "From a sudden and unforeseen death, deliver us, O Lord"; to ask the Mother of God to intercede for us "at the hour of our death" in the Hail Mary; and to entrust ourselves to St. Joseph, the patron of a happy death.
...
Every action of yours, every thought, should be those of one who expects to die before the day is out. Death would have no great terrors for you if you had a quiet conscience. . . . Then why not keep clear of sin instead of running away from death? If you aren't fit to face death today, it's very unlikely you will be tomorrow. . . .
Praised are you, my Lord, for our sister bodily Death,from whom no living man can escape. Woe on those who will die in mortal sin! Blessed are they who will be found in your most holy will,for the second death will not harm them.

Consider also that in canonising St Pio of Pietrelcina and St Faustina, the last Pope also refers us to their writings. Even a superficial knowledge of their writings confirms one in a holy fear of Hell and its torments. I don’t know why the SSPX has recently taken against Faustina, because she certainly clears up the confusion on Hell:

Sister Faustina's Vision of Hell
"I, Sister Faustina Kowalska, by the order of God, have visited the Abysses of Hell so that I might tell souls about it and testify to its existence...the devils were full of hatred for me, but they had to obey me at the command of God, What I have written is but a pale shadow of the things I saw. But I noticed one thing: That most of the souls there are those who disbelieved that there is a hell. ...
Let the sinner know that he will be tortured throughout all eternity, in those senses which he made use of to sin. I am writing this at the command of God, so that no soul may find an excuse by saying there is no hell, or that nobody has ever been there, and so no one can say what it is like...how terribly souls suffer there! Consequently, I pray even more fervently for the conversion of sinners. I incessantly plead God's mercy upon them. O My Jesus, I would rather be in agony until the end of the world, amidst the greatest sufferings, than offend you by the least sin." (Diary 741)

Padre Pio is said to have told a penitent who said “I don’t believe in Hell,” “You will when you get there.”

Eternal damnation is not an initiative of God. As the Catechism of Trent has it:

And yet most justly shall this very sentence be pronounced by our Lord and Saviour on those sinners who neglected all the works of true mercy, who gave neither food to the hungry, nor drink to the thirsty, who refused shelter to the stranger and clothing to the naked, and who would not visit the sick and the imprisoned.

Our Lord issues damnation as a response, not an initiative. The initiative to sin is man’s, not God’s. The result is the just punishment that awaits the unrepentant sinner.

Cardinal Journet speaks of our eternal destiny like an arrow being fired by God. He aims the arrow at eternal life (cf. La Marche de l’Humanité vers le Père.) The initiative is God’s calling us to eternal life. We can knock God’s arrow off-course if we wish.

The whole concern for true doctrine must be directed to the love that never ends. Whether something is proposed for belief, for hope or for action, the love of our Lord must always be made accessible, so that anyone can see that all the works of perfect Christian virtue spring from love and have no other objective than to arrive at love. This is the sense of Cardinal journet's arrow, and - to my mind - the heart of the teaching of Benedict XVI too.

I am praying for you.

God bless,
Yours ever,
Ferdi

August 14th, 2009A Monster For Our Timeby Eleanor Bourg Donlon

Some months ago I penned a piece for the National Catholic Register on the phenomenon of "The Abortion Story" in Catholic literary circles. It's a "rite of passage for young Christian writers", I declared. Most if not all of us have written such a thing at one time or another. Most of them are completely unoriginal and unsuccessful.

I cannot yet say if Matthew Lickona's attempt will be successful, but it certainly can lay claim to originality. Alphonse: Untimely Ripp'd, the first in a five-issue comic miniseries, is quite unlike any abortion story I have ever seen. It is intriguing, it is darkly ingenious, it is deeply disturbing, it is horrific. At her blog, Eve Tushnet drew on the cheery, popular comic strip "Umbert the Unborn" to dub Alphonse "UMBERT THE UNHEIMLICH". The gesture toward the uncanny and (as she goes on later to say) to Shelley's Frankenstein is not unwarranted. The words of that famous monster resonate horribly here: "My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without torture such as you cannot even imagine." Alphonse is about souls in torment, and the little "monster" at its center embodies that torment.

For more information I refer you to Lickona's website, and to his own description of the work:

mon·ster (mŏn'stər) n.
1. An animal, a plant, or other organism having structural defects or deformities.
2. A fetus or an infant that is grotesquely abnormal and usually not viable.
- The American Heritage® Medical Dictionary

Alphonse is the story of eight lives that intersect because of an attempted abortion. Why "attempted?" Because while there are no angels or demons on either side, there is definitely a monster in the middle: Alphonse. Rendered "grotesquely abnormal" by his unwitting mother's use of controlled substances, he is both sentient and freakishly coordinated. He is also deeply wounded, twisted by fear and rage after the attempt on his life, and bent on revenge.

But violence begets violence. Alphonse is pursued even as he is pursuing, and haunted by the claim that there may be another way...



Some may find the intensity of the work very troubling. It is certainly not appropriate reading fare for children. At the same time, with its very grotesqueness, it may draw in a wider popular audience, beyond mainstream prolifers.

In any case, I urge interested readers to buy a copy so that Lickona can afford to publish the next issue!

August 3rd, 2009The Prodigal’s Returnby Joseph Pearce

Bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry. (Luke 15:23-24)

England's prodigal son has returned! A. N. Wilson, one of the finest writers that England has produced in the latter half of the twentieth century, has returned to Christian belief after many years in the atheist wilderness. This is indeed a reason to be merry!

For those of you who do not know A. N. Wilson, he is a novelist, an Oxford academic, a biographer, and an essayist of the first order. I first came across him upon purchasing a copy of his excellent biography of Hilaire Belloc, way back in the eighties. His book helped me significantly on my own faltering path to religious conversion but little did I know that Wilson and I were walking in different directions. As I was moving slowly towards the Christian faith, Wilson was about to walk dramatically away from it. The warning signs were there when I read his biography of C. S. Lewis. The book was well-written, as one would expect from Wilson's illustrious pen, but the whole biography was coloured with Wilson's cynicism towards Lewis's religious faith and muscular apologetics. Soon afterwards I was shocked to come across a small pamphlet by Wilson, entitled "Against God", a work of muscular atheist apologetics that signalled the prodigy's metamorphosis into the prodigal, and heralded his departure from his Father's house.

For the next decade or so, Wilson placed his formidable and God-given gifts at the disposal of the new atheism. One can only imagine how Wilson's friends and fellow atheists, Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens, must have rejoiced at his apostasy. In their eyes, he had seen the light or, more to the point, he had finally seen that there was no light! Together, Dawkins, Hitchens and Wilson formed a triumphalist triumvirate passing supercilious judgment on the Faith of their fathers.

And yet, in spite of his apostasy, I couldn't help liking A. N. Wilson. It was not just that he was an excellent writer but that he seemed to possess a genuine intellectual honesty that is lacking in so many others who find themselves adherents of the non-creed of materialism. To be honest, and one can hardly fail to be honest if we're praising intellectual honesty, I remained favourably disposed to ANW, at least in part, because he had been very supportive of my own work, thereby bestowing a degree of gravitas upon it in the eyes of his peers. He had praised my book, Literary Converts, in a review published in the Telegraph, Times, Evening Standard or some such newspaper, and had even gone so far as to state that my biography of Belloc was much better than his! Apart from the unhealthy sense of prideful satisfaction that such praise aroused in me, it was nonetheless gratifying to learn that the author of a book that I greatly admired seriously thought that my book was better than his. But the preening of my own ego aside, how many writers would have the humility and honesty to praise a rival volume as being superior to their own? Such a man demands and commands respect, whether we like it or not, or whether we like his beliefs or not.

For all these reasons, I never quite believed that Wilson would remain with the pigs, far from his Father's house, casting his literary pearls before swine. Sooner or later, he would return.

Bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.

July 31st, 2009Preview of the September/October Issueby Joseph Pearce

One of the benefits of keeping an eye on this site is being able to learn the contents of the next issue of StAR long before the issue is delivered to the journal's happy band of subscribers, indeed long before it has even reached the printers. I have just delivered the articles for this issue to our graphic designer, Michelle, and am happy to offer you the customary preview of what you can expect in the forthcoming September/October issue. The next issue is on the theme of "Literary Priests", as a follow-up to the current issue's theme of "Literary Converts". Its highlights include:

The Priest in Literature by Joseph Pearce

Newman's Faithful and Rational Conversion by Jennifer Overkamp

The Virtue of Graciousness in the Poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins by Mitchell Kalpakgian

The Mystery of Suffering in The Wreck of the Deutschland by Marigrace Powers

A Quartet of Converts: Neuhaus, Rutler, Chesterton, and Dulles by Donald DeMarco

Ronald Knox: Literary Priest and Convert (An interview with Joseph Pearce on Knox's Legacy)

Newman's Leap of Faith by Kevin O'Brien

Newman and Music by Susan Treacy

Fathers in Film: Catholic Priests in the Movies by Father Dwight Longenecker

Charity, Truth and the Challenge of Globalization: Extracts from Pope Benedict's latest Encyclical

Plus Patrick Riley on the state of contemporary politics from his quintessentially pro-life perspective

And Father Benedict Kieley's view of the Faith from the perspective of an English priest in America

And Book Reviews and New Poetry

And, last but not least, a full colour art feature on the work of Scottish artist, Tommy Canning

Don't miss out. If you are not a subscriber already you can rectify the sin of omission by subscribing from the link on this site.

July 30th, 2009Keep Your Eyes on the Anglicansby Robert Asch

While the Church of England is clearly entering the last stages of decay, with Rowan Williams's proposal of a two-track church - one accepting homosexual union and clergy, the other rejecting it - it would be a mistake for Catholics to crow over its demise, for at least three reasons:

First of all, it would be in poor taste. That may appear trifling to some, but bad taste is not a trifle. It would be a very bad move for the Catholic cause in England, playing right into the (Reformation-made, but long inhaled) local stereotype of Catholics as untrustworthy, sinister people, bad Englishmen, un-English, alien. It is a false stereotype, historically, but now is not the time to reinforce it. A lot of cradle Anglicans have been going through very painful and confusing times. They are more likely to turn to the Church (THE Church, obviously) if we carry ourselves well.

Second, I haven't spoken to more than a couple of people who appear to have the faintest notion of the social confusion that will follow the disappearance of the C of E, the many cultural losses it will necessarily entail, and the huge strides triumphant Secularism will quickly make. We, as English Catholics, are facing an enormous challenge: this should be a time of intense preparation, spiritual, intellectual, practical.

Finally, I think something positive might actually come from this two-track scenario. Recent developments have made it nominally illegal to disapprove of homosexual practice in England, even in matters of conscience: Catholic orphanages, for example, are no longer allowed to refrain from sending their orphans to homosexual couples. If the Anglicans proceed with their plans for a church that will make room for those who cannot accept same-sex union and manifestly homosexual clergy, and organise parishes accordingly, then the Church of England will hurtle into head-on collision with the gay rights movement and the mainstream media. I may be wrong, but I wouldn't be surprised to see Williams pick up this gauntlet as a conscience issue. In other words, rather than the one-sided taunting game the same-sex issue has been for the Catholic Church at the hands of the media in England, we could finally have a proper fight on our hands.

I may be mistaken on this one, but - watch this space.

July 26th, 2009How Does Your Garden Grow?by Eleanor Bourg Donlon

I’m rooting about in the dirt, making a general nuisance of myself about the flowers. The chrysanthemums—victims of my plan for transplantation—register distress mildly by bobbing their heads about, while an azalea bush looks on impassively. A flock of impatiens, sitting close by, remains obnoxiously sedate, despite the fact that their colorful spread is interrupted by an astonishingly long earthworm. 
  
There is another side to this picture—the backbreaking task of maintaining the spread of woods between the front of our house and the edge of the lake. For this we need do more than piffle in the well-tilled earth with a graceful hand rake; the thick, poison ivy-entwined brush demands a weed-whacker and the rabidly colonizing pine only bows before the crass might of a chainsaw. 
  
What is it about working outside that so soothes the soul? Does it resonate with the most primitive privileges and duties of man—that order to tend the earth? Or is it something baser, that impulse to tame the wilderness to our hands, by physical force if necessary? Perhaps it is a theatrical desire to harness nature that it might better fulfill the demands of the pathetic fallacy and look well when we are well and ill when we are ill? Or is it nothing more than an ingrained desire to reclaim the lost garden of Genesis? 
  
In a general way, the healthiness of hobbies, of leisure, has long served as an engaging philosophical subject. [One could imagine Aristotle dedicating an evening to contra dancing, all in an effort to keep the gray cells healthy and happy. Plato is perhaps less easy to imagine relaxing; he seems the sort of fellow impossible to dislodge from the pub at closing time, who would talk the ear off the Oldest Inhabitant.] For many, gardening is indeed a hobby, and a healthy one at that. Fresh air, sunlight, and a familiarity with roly-polies must be edifying. Beyond this, there is something essential to gardening that makes it a proper nurturer of both body and soul. 
 
This came to mind one day when I set to removing a vine that was tentatively threatening the integrity of a rosebush. It seemed a simple business—pulling back those straining leafy fingers from grateful branches. The most challenging part of it was the avoidance of thorns. I soon, found, however that there was much more to the problem. Those “fledgling” vines were in fact an unholy offshoot of the vine that had woven deeply under a wide stretch of ground. Moreover, this vine was the selfsame twisting monstrosity that was doing its best to strangle the oak and two pines ten feet off. To remove this fixture was not the work of a moment. 

I was struggling manfully and muttering dark imprecations under my breath (particularly against Andrew Marvell who, I felt, said a lot of nice things about “a green thought in a green shade”, but knew nothing about the arduous labors of a “skillful gard’ner”) when my mother came up, quietly observed for a moment, and then made this profound assessment of my altercation with the viny nemesis: It’s just like sin. 
  
The metaphor deserves some focused attention. Seeing life as a little piece of earth has the advantage of encompassing a wide range of personalities—the sandy desert, the pristine English garden, the rugged lawn. For any of these, the threat of invading weeds remains and the analogy of sin holds strong. 
  
You only see a little plot of the offensive growth. You think removal will be easy—in fact, the impulse to clear things is primarily born of a petty concern for appearances. Few people like to see a rosebush in an advanced stage of strangulation. Then you find that the vines of sin are a much more complicated business. The hidden network of roots is so deep, so intricate, and so interwoven, that you fear you will have to uproot the entire yard to be free of it. And yet, as progress is painfully made, you begin to look about you, and to realize that the reason this little daisy or that patch of grass never would grow was that strength was being sapped and timid roots smothered by the surrounding strength of the pervasive vine. 
  
Reclamation of the infested landscape can involve a wide range of tools—from a backhoe to a set of clippers. Sometimes weed killer does the trick. Other times the only option is rototilling. When a foundation of dramatic and backbreaking labor is laid, a routine of less crippling maintenance can be assumed. It took five of us to clear out the stock of rotten wood my little brothers amassed as a fort ten years ago, and a tractor to help us clear away the rotten stump left by builders three years before that. [Removal of the pile disclosed the hidden summerhouse of a small black snake, with which, being well versed in the appropriate Old Testament passages, we did not converse.] Now we water, weed, and plant as we will.
  
Here our vision must shift to encompass the other and more glorious side of the production: Moral and spiritual growth. [My brother, eager to help me develop this overdone metaphor, suggested that liming be representative of the grace of God, to which I replied, “Wouldn’t that be Miracle Grow?” He rejected this sprinkler-bound notion and began a long homily on the Biblical significance of water and hence of rain.] Indeed, the gradual flourishing of this garden is very like our human flourishing when the full potential for excellence—for beatitude—is embraced. 
 
Such is the life of virtue. Neglected, the land can easily become overgrown once more; still, even in such an unhappy lapse, the traces of reclamation remain, and can be reinvigorated. Our constant labors, sanctified by the Divine touch (here symbolized in the rain and sunlight as well as the Creator’s plan that prompts green growth in the first place), bear sumptuous fruit. 
  
At our home, the most obvious effect is seen in summertime, and goes beyond our bushy, flowery borders (endlessly delightful though they are). With the brush cleared and the vines uprooted, dead pine trees felled and a variegated host of deciduous trees free to dance in the breeze, sunlight streams through the woods, and we can stand on our front porch and admire an acres-wide lake. Both in picturesque and practical terms, it is a pleasing sight, for this lake is a source of many things—geothermal heat for our home, neighbor to our well, an always open bath for our pets. More than enough significance for a lake in central Virginia, one would think, and yet it is something more. 
  
It is not the boundless deep, and thus cannot aspire to be a classical symbol of eternity; but as it is and for what it is, the glistening surface, clear (from this distant vantage point at least) and brilliant in the sunlight or richly dappled in the rain, provides the final image in this belabored metaphor, and a proper backdrop representing the Divine Source, as essential to man as water is to his body, visible now through the flowers, trees, and bushes, happily purged as they are of brambles, weeds, and the sinister vine.

July 25th, 2009The Wandering Joeby Joseph Pearce

Since my last post, way back on July 13th, I have been on the road almost continuously. Hence, and by way of an excuse for my absence, I have been exiled from my family as well as from this site. Nor is there any respite in sight. I leave in less than an hour for the airport, destined for a homeschool conference in Dallas. Last weekend I was at another homeschool conference in Tampa, Florida, after having spent the previous week teaching a high school summer program on Tolkien at Ave Maria University. Prior to that I was in a recording studio recording an audio version of my book, The Quest for Shakespeare. Yesterday, my only working day at home in two weeks, I wrote a preface for a forthcoming Ignatius book which I believe will be titled The Best of Chesterton's Essays. The essays were selected collectively by myself, by the irrepressible Dale Ahlquist, President of the American Chesterton Society, and by the Grand Old Man of Chestertonia, Aidan Mackey. It promises to be a fine volume and ideal for those wishing to get to know Chesterton the Essayist. Such is my news, and such is my excuse for being absent from the StAR Ink Desk. 

As soon as I have some time back in my office I intend to write on several events that have animated my passions in recent weeks, not least of which is the forthcoming beatification of John Henry Newman, and the return to Christian belief of A. N. Wilson. I might also vent on the subject of England's godlessness and on the betrayal of Belloc. Watch this space ...

In the interim, you might be interested in this interview that I did on Chilean television during my visit to Santiago last year. This clip, which is but a snippet of the full half-hour interview, touches upon my prison experience and my conversion. Check it out:   

http://www.otrocanal.cl/?video=202

July 23rd, 2009Dappled Things: SS. Peter and Paul 2009by Eleanor Bourg Donlon

From the Editors of Dappled Things:

Has the summer heat gotten you down? Fear not! The cool new edition of Dappled Things is sure to refresh you with an invigorating selection of prose, poetry, and art.
 
Our fiction this issue runs the gamut from the weighty to the wild. We have Dena Hunt's The Funeral, a moving meditation on the finitude of human loves, followed by a story that features a troop of Dominican friars dispassionately considering whether they should eat each other or not—Eleanor Donlon's wacky but affecting De virtute cannibalismi—and conclude with Tony France's The Ninth Floor, the often bizarre tale of a young thief set on making off with the treasures of a legendary department store:

Leyland’s catalogue was a thousand pages filled with hope, joy, and goodwill. The actual wares offered for sale seemed like a pretext for displaying tapestries, paintings, mosaics, frescoes, fountains, statuary rising above cobalt blue pools, hanging gardens, tropical forests, marble temples, and ancient ruins. Walking into the blue and gold aura of the Leyland’s Fifth Avenue main entrance reinforced the impression that at Leyland’s, merchandising, although necessary, served an ulterior motive.

If you're looking for solid non-fiction, we've got that too. Eileen Cunis delves into the Catholic tradition for insight in her essay "What is Art?," the first installment of a three part series titled "On the Vocation of the Christian Artist." Then in "The Wisconsin Baroque, Priests, and Paper Architecture" Matthew Alderman lays out a vision of how sacred architecture might develop in the future by building on—rathern than discarding—the foundations laid out in the past. Along those line, our featured article this issue—"Restoring the Fresco of Progress" by Dr. Wilfred McClay—considers the danger of paralysis in a culture that has come to question the very possibility of positive change:

But our compulsive belief in progress is being challenged constantly by the honesty of our unbelief. Hence when we speak of progress, it is so often “progress” that we speak of. The use of sneer quotes is often a way of pretending to be superior to the concept being quoted, and to those who would be so naïve or mendacious as to use the words without critical distance. But their use may also be a way of frankly confessing one’s inability to get beyond straddling an issue. It may even be a way of evading the law of noncontradiction, by both asserting and not asserting something at the same time. A way of saying tacitly what was once said biblically: “Lord I believe; help thou my unbelief.” (Mark 9: 24)

If you are looking for a new book to read this summer, make sure to check out Bernardo Aparicio and Katy Carl's interview with Carlos Eire, author of Waiting for Snow in Havana: Confessions of a Cuban Boy. Eire's book won the National Book Award in 2003 and is a gem of Catholic literature that has remained hidden only to Catholics. In this thought-provoking interview, our president and editor-in-chief give this fascinating memoir the long-overdue attention it deserves:

Eire’s voice is one we overlook at our own loss. His memoir, though a work of non-fiction, is suffused with the magical realism of the best Latin American novels. His is the kind of realism that grows out of an understanding that reality is, indeed, magical—full of depth and possibility, sacramental. Eire’s facts are never flat; he can follow the simplest details in surprising directions, all of which lead to either hilarious or deeply poignant conclusions, most often both. For this reason, even as Waiting for Snow succeeds as a memoir of childhood and exile, it accomplishes much more than that. Something solid moves beneath the words. Don’t be surprised at that. It is Augustine, not Rousseau, that Professor Eire is echoing in the memoir’s subtitle: Confessions of a Cuban Boy.

If poetry and art is what you crave, you have come to the right place. Just consider artist James Dean Erickson's beautiful and moving portraits of humble workers and homeless men. Erickson uses everyday materials to create works of fine art, a method that supports his interest in highlighting the dignity of those we so often turn away from in the street. And as Erickson paints with brushes our poets paint with words: take a look at Meredith Wise's "Roman April" or John Savoie's "Beads," among many others, to see what we mean.
 
These are just some of the many excellent fiction pieces, essays, poems, and works of art that we have prepared for you this time.
 
Wishing you a joyful and blessed summer,
 
The Editors

July 20th, 2009The Virtue of Detachmentby Kevin O'Brien

Detachment is an ugly word.  It carries the connotation of stoicism and cold-heartedness – perhaps even ruthlessness.  But what the saints mean by “detachment” is “renouncing possessiveness”.  Thus it is not wrong to be “attached” to people and things that we love (in other words to care for them and long for them), but if we become possessive of them, then we enter into something that might lead to idolatry at worst, selfishness at best.  The mother who loves her son and misses him when he moves away is “attached” to him; the mother who sabotages her son’s psyche and makes him a perpetual adolescent, still living at home at age thirty is “possessive” of him.

When you start an “apostolate”, you do so out of a mixture of motives.  Everything we do is done out of mixed motives.  I’m in the acting business and believe me it’s impossible for any actor simply to say, “I’m doing this for the love of God.”  Pride, career concerns, vainglory – all of that is thrown into the mix, and there seems no way to avoid it.  We can work to become “detached” or to see ourselves as “stewards” rather than “owners” or “possessors”, but these selfish motives creep in all the same, in an apostolate like my Theater of the Word Incorporated or anywhere.

Last week a friend told me of something he had set up that was a kind of mini-apostolate or lay ministry – let’s call it a Bible study group for the sake of discussion.  As with almost everything in the Church, not only when “two or three are gathered together in My name, I am among them,” as Christ tells us (Mt. 18:20); but also when two or three are gathered together for any cause politics is among them.  Non-profit organizations and church functions in particular are hotbeds for politics and mind games – probably because success can not be quantified in sales or profits, and so the struggles for power become more personal and less tied to reality.

And so in this good man’s Bible study group, after a few years all hell broke lose.  An internal power struggle led to one of those ugly episodes that everyone who’s close to the church can describe – Christians behaving abominably.  In this case, the founder of the group was ousted in a kind of Salem witch trial (this sounds ridiculous, but these kinds of things happen all the time in non-profit endeavors and leave very nasty scars on the victims involved).  In utter frustration, my friend said, “I wish I’d never started this group!”

And I said, “Wait a minute.  You did this for the Lord, didn’t you?  It’s not your group; it’s His.”  And I told him that perhaps the greatest thread running through the lives of the saints is persecution for the sake of allowing the saints to practice “detachment”.  Blessed Jeanne Jugan, the foundress of the Little Sisters of the Poor, who will be canonized this fall, is probably the best example.  After giving her all to found this wonderful order, she was dispossessed of it and forced into a kind of exile by an unscrupulous priest who put himself in the limelight, claiming to be the true founder of the order.  He did such a good job, even altering historical documents that extolled Jeanne Jugan so that they would instead extol him, that for a generation after her death, this robber-baron priest was thought to be the true founder of the Little Sisters.  Imagine what you would feel if the great work of love you gave your life for was stolen from you and you were ignored and forgotten.  You’d be miserable – unless you had the grace to say “I did this for the Lord”.

A secular example is Maria Von Trapp, who, because of an odd copyright quirk, was “dispossessed” of her own life story.  She received almost no money whatsoever from the bonanza that was both the stage and film version of her biography, “The Sound of Music”.  She was even discouraged from being on the film set – the very woman the movie was all about!  One wonders if any of us could handle this.  When Joseph Pearce, in a moment of need, barters away his life story to the mega corporation that turns it into a film (“The Sound of Shakespeare”), and teenage girls go ga-ga over Pierce Brosnan as the film’s Hollywood version of Pearce – with the movie earning hundreds of millions of dollars, while Joseph and his family are relegated to living in obscurity and eating ramen noodles in a trailer park somewhere in the South, we’ll have to see how well he handles this.

Personally, I’d be ticked – indeed, bitter and angry even to the day I died.  But Maria Von Trapp was not.  She showed true humility and supernatural “detachment”, dying a happy woman, as did Jeanne Jugan.

I’m not saying this is easy to do.  Indeed, I don’t think it’s at all possible on the natural level.  Only supernatural grace can give us the virtues to offer everything we do to Our Lord, in a spirit of love – attached to Him, but not possessive of what He has allowed us to do for Him.  May we all thus pray for a spirit of true “detachment”.

July 13th, 2009The Foolishness of Hopeby Kevin O'Brien

We talk in these pages about our culture, which is clearly a Culture of Death.  But this is this because it is a Culture of Despair, a society that cultivates Despair and makes it bearable by making it fashionable and natural.

Despair is opposed to Hope.  Have you ever pondered the attacks upon Hope in the modern world?  I am convinced that Hope is the most despised of the virtues, more so than chastity.  It’s cool to be cynical and sarcastic and bitter – this is urbanity, it is chic.  To be hopeful we must become like little children, and that invokes derisive laughter from the professionally disappointed around us, who have hardened their hearts to life.  But we must become vulnerable again and forego the callousness that shields men from the things that make the poets sing.

Hope is a bridge between Faith and Love.  When you assent to the evidence of things not seen, you have Faith.  When you serve what you do not see, this is Love.  In both cases you have a kind of provisional possession of the object, either in your conception of it (for Faith is a “substance” – Heb. 11:1) or in your bearing it forth (for Faith works through love - Gal. 5:6).  But the odd act of will - the bittersweet longing in the breast - that comes between Faith and Love is Hope; and Hope is all about a longing for and a movement toward that which is not yet (completely) here.

I don’t know about you, but there are dozens of things in my life that should not be here.  From a realistic (much less cynical) point of view, I should not be here.  There is no reason why I should be alive, have a family that loves me, have a vocation I am able to follow.  Nevertheless, in my cynical moments, I doubt every little thing, from the beauty I long for to our ability to pay the mortgage.  From one point of view I have every reason to hope; from another I have no reason, and Hope seems to be the most unreasonable thing in the world.

But think of Peter when he stepped out of that boat.  Here’s the boat; there’s My Lord.  Between him and me is a lake that will swallow me up.  Stepping out of that boat and moving toward Him is the archetypal Act of Hope.

So don’t despair.  Don’t fret the bad bishops, the ugly culture, the looming financial meltdown.  We are called forth to walk on water.  There’s no reason we should be able to, and when we can’t, we just need to reach out our hands, and He will save us.

Meanwhile, for the worldly wise, Hope is utterly unreasonable.  It is anything but wise; it is foolish.  But God chose the foolish things of the world that He might put to shame those who are wise (1 Cor. 1:27).  So be foolish.  Step out of that boat.  Hope.

July 13th, 2009Pope Benedict and the Challenge of Globalizationby Joseph Pearce

Last week saw the release of the Holy Father's new Encyclical, Caritas in Veritate. In response to its publication, the Catholic World Report's website published the views of several Catholic commentators on the Encyclical's importance. I was one of those asked to submit a response. Here it is:

Caritas in Veritate is food for the soul, nourishing us with the wisdom we need to make sense of the crazy, accelerating times in which we live. With his usual profundity and eloquence, the Holy Father diagnoses the major crises afflicting our wayward world and prescribes the solutions. Rooting his diagnosis and cure in the "charity in truth" which "is at the heart of the Church's social doctrine," Pope Benedict analyzes a plethora of modern problems with the succinct brilliance to which we have become accustomed.

Commenting on the global financial crisis, the Holy Father is forthright in his condemnation of the destructive consequences of immoral investment practices and candid in his exposé of the naiveté of free market libertarianism. He sees the crisis as "an opportunity for discernment, in which to shape a new vision for the future."

The Pope's "new vision" is, however, inseparable from the timeless and magisterial vision of the Church down the ages, the marriage of the ever ancient and ever new, and Benedict, as always, builds his arguments on those of his illustrious forebears. And yet this ancient wisdom cuts through the cant of modernity with unerring incisiveness.

Thus, to take but a few salient examples, subsidiarity is seen as the solution to development in poor countries, openness to life is placed "at the center of true development," and "the right to religious freedom" is seen as integral to authentic human growth. In consequence, the economic imperialism of macro-corporations and international financial institutions is condemned as running rough-shod over the rights to subsidiarity in poor countries, the culture of death is seen as fostering the hedonism that leads to societal and ecological breakdown, and secular fundamentalism is stunting humanity's growth through its efforts to exclude religion from the public sphere.

Toward the end of his breathtakingly brilliant encyclical, Pope Benedict tells us that true development "needs Christians with their arms raised towards God in prayer." Having read Caritas in Veritate we should all raise our arms toward God to thank him for sending us such a sagacious Pontiff.

For other responses to the Encyclical, please visit the Catholic World Report website: http://www.catholicworldreport.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=121:cwr-round-table-caritas-in-veritate&catid=36:cwr2009&Itemid

July 3rd, 2009Bathroom Humorby Kevin O'Brien

Today is my daughter Kerry's 14th birthday.  In honor of her near total maturity, I present an article I wrote many years ago that's bound to embarrass her.
 
Ah, my favorite family tradition!  Sitting down to a fabulous meal at a restaurant with my wife and kids to celebrate some special event - it could be Easter, graduation, a birthday.  Today the event is even more special because we’re sharing it with you, the reader.   Join me as we converse, as we laugh, as we share our poignant memories, as we-
 
“Daddy?”
 
Not now, honey, I’m talking with our guests.  Join me as we delight in the refined atmosphere of --
 
“Daddy?”
 
Kerry, you’re interrupting me.
 
“Daddy, I have to go potty.”
 
Excuse me a minute.  Kerry, the food just got here. We had to wait forty-five minutes for a table, twenty minutes for our menus, and an hour for our entree.  Why did you wait until now to tell me you had to go potty?
 
“Daddy, I’ve got to go really bad!!!”
 All right, fine.  Let’s get it over with.
 
As Kerry and I set out on our expedition to the restroom, I am reminded of family traditions – the kind of traditions that endure.  Truth be told, my wife Karen and I are not consistent with anything in our lives, from keeping regular schedules to paying the bills on time.  But our kids!  Our kids are meticulous, they are unswerving, they are implacable about one thing – they insist upon visiting public bathrooms at inopportune times.  It is our most consistently kept family tradition.
 
For some reason, neither Colin nor Kerry feel about public facilities the way most adults do.  To their adventurous souls, urinals are exotic shrines, stalls are tabernacles of mystery, blowing hand dryers are fire-breathing dragons, and even the very act of flushing becomes an adventure in man’s mastery over the brute dominion of nature.
          
At least this is what I surmise.  I’m usually busy while the kids are doing their thing, busy trying not to look too conspicuous hanging out in the men’s room.  I’ve learned a lot thereby, and am eager to offer other fathers my advice:
 
HOW TO BE INCONSPICUOUS IN THE MEN’S ROOM WHILE YOUR LITTLE GIRL IS IN THE STALLS
 
Don’t get bored and start to whistle or tap dance, despite the good acoustics.  Men are not supposed to be whistling or tap dancing in public restrooms, no matter what, and someone will walk in on you.
 
When someone does walk in on you, he will no doubt wonder why you are neither about your business nor at the sink.  You may easily avert his suspicions by knocking on the stall door and saying, “Are you done yet, honey?”  This is a way of telegraphing to late comers that you are celebrating an important family tradition and not some creep loitering in the john.   (A small detail: make sure that when you knock on the stall and say, “Are you done yet, honey?” that you have picked the right stall.  The last thing you want the newcomer to hear is some husky redneck call back, “Not yet, darlin’!”)
 
Speaking of  which, are you done yet, honey?
 
“No, Daddy.  Pee-pee’s sleeping!”
 
Oh, your pee-pee’s sleeping?  Well, that’s OK.  Let’s get back to the table before our dinner gets cold.
 
Now, then, where were we?  Ah, yes – eating out!  Fine dining, intelligent conversation, erudite moments –
 
“Daddy?”
 
Yes, Colin?
 
“Daddy, now I have to go.”
 
Oh, I almost forgot.  Rule Three:  Always take both kids at the same time.  In this way, the tradition goes much more smoothly.  Come on, son, let’s go!

July 3rd, 2009Changelessness at the Beachby Jef Murray

I’m dragging the suitcase up from the basement. Each summer, Lorraine and I spend a week at the beach, usually with other family members. In previous years, I’ve notched up plenty of bruises and abrasions while body surfing with my great-nephews. Their decades-younger rubber bodies seem immune to the surges and slaps of tropical storm-tossed breakers; mine, on the other hand, always comes home battered.

But this year, we’re largely going it alone. The reasons are legion, but a combination of economics, our niece having her first baby, family illness, conflicting schedules, and innumerable other hiccups will put Lorraine and me into our usual two-bedroom rented condo all by ourselves. We’ll have Aunt Rita over for supper several times, of course, and Cousin Julie will visit, but this will be more of a “desert experience” for us than we’ve had in years.

In a former life, when Lorraine and I were both full tilt at demanding careers, we built a house in the marshes and used to escape to it as often as we could...sometimes monthly. We craved the enforced silence of no people, no email, no newspapers, or magazines, or television.  We trekked and boated through the marshes, lunching next to wall-to-wall carpets of fiddler crabs. We fed smoked mullet tidbits to blue crabs and watched as they tried to prevent minnows, conchs, and other crustaceans from getting a share of the spoils.

But this year, we’ll be at a real desert, because beaches are just that. Unlike salt marshes, the pristine white coasts are relatively devoid of life. Yes, there are mole crabs and ghost crabs; there are dolphins and minnows and sandpipers; there are even sea turtles tractor-treading their way up the slopes to lay eggs. But much of the beach is stripped clean by sun, wind and wave. It speaks not so much of God’s fecundity, as do the salt marshes, but of His changelessness.

It’s odd to ponder changelessness at the beach, because at first glance everything there would seem to be in flux; dunes meander, sea oats shift and scramble; houses are built and then blow away.

And yet, the sound of the sea is always the same: the roaring of ripe waves as they crash, the piping of gulls and terns, the sea breeze tuning up empty coke bottles. And the smell of the sea is always the same: tangy, wild, thick like soup, the hint of decay beneath the smell of suntan lotion.

These things get under your skin. They touch that part of you that was once a toddler, digging holes just beyond the surf and munching sand-spiked tomato sandwiches under beefy blue umbrellas. When we’re at the beach, we’re the same people we were last time, and the time before, and the time before that. All that’s happened away from the waves is just filler.

This is timelessness…a rupture in routine; a tabling of the typical. With clocks stopped, we see the beach as truly “charged with the grandeur of God.” On silver shores, the Infinite stoops down and watches us play in the sand. He whispers to us in dappled winds. And when towering August clouds are tinted pink, then gold, then purple with setting sun, I cannot help but think, pointing to regal billows, “that’s where God lives!”

So, back I go to packing. I’ll take my sketchbook, of course. And, if I’m feeling particularly industrious, I may even take a simple set of watercolours.

But I probably won’t use either. You see, when you’re spending the week with God, you don’t really need to be doing anything else.

-    Jef Murray

July 1st, 2009“I’ve, like, got to get there, like, now:” A Rant on Language, Unintelligibility, and Irrevereby Eleanor Bourg Donlon

Once upon a time, the word “like” had a soul. Modern tongues have since beaten the word like the proverbial dead horse, badgering it to the meaningless status of non-verbal filler. “Um” and “like” can be used almost interchangeably.

This is an offense into which we all fall, and far too often. People no longer speak or say, they “say, like,” or simply “was, like.” The frequency with which the word appears in everyday conversation reminds me of a hazing ritual my father endured in the Naval Academy. When so directed by an upperclassman, young plebes were forced to recite sundry lyrical compositions, sometimes interjecting the word “sir” after every word. As thus (in response to the question “why didn’t you say ‘sir’?”):

Sir, sir is a subservient word surviving from the surly days of old Serbia, when certain serfs, too ignorant to remember their lord's names, yet too servile to blaspheme them, circumvented the situation by surrogating the subservient word sir, by which I now belatedly address a certain senior cirroped who correctly surmised that I was syrupy enough to say sir after every word I said, sir.

Some particularly unfortunate plebes would endure and even more intense ritual of recitation by interjecting “sir” after every word (Sir, sir sir is sir a sir subservient sir…etc.). My father can rattle off this complicated little formula with astonishing rapidity to the great delight of his offspring who consider it a sign of great paternal experience and wisdom.

The question that must be asked, in the light of this is: if the average teenager replaced all of these sir’s with like’s, would we look askance? The military exercise is supposed to drill the victim into the discipline of respect. “Like” is nothing more than an empty and nauseatingly incessant filler.

Alongside this preponderance of “likes” and “sirs,” we must consider other linguistic offenses. “I have got to get,” “I got there,” “I get it,” “Get that,” and sundry other manifestations come readily to mind (and even more readily to mouth). It might be argued that the overuse of the verb “to get” is a sign of the inherent selfishness of modernity—it is all “get,” “get,” “get.” I, however, am no expert on the subject of economics.

There is nothing technically wrong with many of these usages; except, of course, an appalling lack of imagination. Instead of “getting” somewhere, why don’t we “travel,” “journey,” “walk,” “drive,” “fly,” “hurry,” “saunter,” “skip,” “run,” “leap-frog,” or even “frolic?” Instead of “getting” something, why don’t we “fetch,” “retrieve,” “hand over,” “pass,” “pick up,” “obtain,” “carry,” or “bring” it? And instead of “getting it,” whatever “it” may be, why don’t we “understand,” “comprehend,” or “appreciate the extraordinary profundity” of the issue at question?

I ask these questions with a slight facetiousness. This is, as I noted above, more of an issue of dull and unimaginative repetitiveness. But how should we consider the issue when more than everyday language is at stake?

No where is our lack of linguistic propriety more clearly demonstrated than in rampant taking of the Lord’s name in vain. Cartoon characters (supposedly presented for the entertainment and, we might wistfully hope, edification of children) toss off flippant apostrophes to the heavens that have nothing to do with the plot. “OMG” has even found its way into popular culture. It can be typed rapidly into an internet-based conversation with as little thought as is required for the insertion of an emoticon.

In the Page-Barbour and Richard Lectures given at the University of Virginia in November 2006, Janet Soskice, University Reader in Philosophical Theology at Cambridge University, declared that we do not really understand the meaning of the familiar phrase: “hallowed be Thy name.” This brief portion of the Lord’s prayer is, Soskice argued, utterly foreign to our modern sensibilities. Soskice’s analysis of Exodus 3:15 is likewise pertinent to this issue of linguistic irreverence (although her focus is on quite another and loftier subject).

We have only to glance into the past, to Mount Sinai, to recall the true awesomeness of the concept of God’s name: Then Moses said to God, “If I come to the people of Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “YHWH.” And he said, “Say this to the people of Israel, ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” (Exodus 3:15).

The Tetragrammaton, those four unreadable letters (יהוה) given to Moses as God’s name, is a source of honor, awe, and wonder throughout Jewish tradition and the New Judaism that is Catholicism. Beyond this profound gift, God’s Name reverberates across the Old and New Testaments, appearing thousands upon thousands of times—El, Elohim, El Shaddai, Jehovah, Yahweh, Adonai, Jehovah-Jireh, Shepherd, Judge, Father—culminating in the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ.

What is the significance of this ancient repetitiveness? Are we not of liberated modernity—free to call parents by their first names and to overthrow the oppressive patriarchal hierarchy of yesteryear?

If nothing else can demonstrate the tragic nature of the modernist crisis, it is this: we are fighting for the honor of being orphans, standing proudly on the principal of desolation and loneliness, and turning our backs upon our loving Father. His very name has become a thing of flippancy, irreverence, and casual cursing.

Modernity seems sadly reminiscent of a classic scene of Shakespearean wit (Twelfth Night, Act III, scene I):

VIOLA            …they that dally nicely with

words may quickly make them wanton.

Clown              I would, therefore, my sister had had no name, sir.
VIOLA            Why, man?
Clown              Why, sir, her name's a word; and to dally with that

word might make my sister wanton.

In like manner but with a great deal less wit, has the very name of God become wanton. His name is dallied with more freely than that of any sister could be. If the number of times the Lord’s name is mentioned were in any way indicative of heart-felt love, it would be a sign of spiritual renewal to rival any of the great periods of lay devotion that pepper Church history.

God so loved the world that He gave us the ability to speak to Him, even to the point of giving us a Name, a form of address, a way to communicate and thus a path into communion with the Divine. He is the Word. We have seen his face. He speaks to us as Father. Our stance should be one of ecstatic openness to the Divine Word; not degradingly over familiar rudeness. We shall hope and pray for a day when bowed heads and knees are more closely associated with the Name of God than are the flippant tongues of teenagers and the angry cries of frustrated drivers.

To that end we suggest (with only the slightest touch of sarcasm) that every malefactor who dallies with the Divine Name be compelled to endure the Naval Academy formula seven times seventy times, all the while kneeling in fervent contemplation at the foot of the cross.

June 30th, 2009Pure BSby Joseph Pearce

One of the myths or lies of pluralism and secular fundamentalism is that religion should be excluded from the public square. Regardless of their protestations to the contrary, secularists don't believe that religion should be excluded; on the contrary, they believe that all religion should be excluded except their own. Secularism fills the public square, and the public airwaves, with its own quasi-religion of radical relativism. It is also happy that Catholicism is present as long as it is present as a bete noir to be villified, as long as it as an object of hate upon which to pour scorn or upon which to vent spleens. Nowhere is this secularist hypocrisy more apparent than in the case of PBS, the so-called "public" broadcasting network. PBS has long been promoting pseudo-historical documentaries which are little more than veiled attacks upon Catholicism. The most recent example is the documentary claiming to reveal the secret anti-Catholicism of Michelangelo, the great Renaissance artist responsible for some of the finest Catholic art ever produced in the service of the Church. Apart from the fact that that such documentaries are the historical equivalent of tabloid newspapers, twisting and manipulating the truth in the service of sordid and salacious sensationalism, they are guilty of bringing religion to the public square. They are secularist anti-Catholic propaganda.

Imagine a documentary on PBS showing the role of the Benedictines in preserving civilization in the dark ages; imagine a documentary on PBS showing the role of the monasteries in providing care of the poor and the sick in medieval times; imagine a documentary on PBS showing the positive social impact of the Dominican and Franciscan orders; imagine a documentary on PBS extolling the virtues of the Catholic Counter-Reformation, focusing especially on the great saints of the period, on the Jesuits, and on the great art of the period; imagine a documentary on PBS showing the ways in which the Church has always opposed the murderous regimes of secular fundamentalism, such as the Great Terror of the French Revolution, the Gulags of the Soviet Union, the concentration camps of the Nazis, the millions killled by communism in China and Cambodia, et cetera. Imagine a documentary on PBS showing how the Catholic Church has opposed the mass infanticide of abortion, detailing how secular fundamentalism in the United States alone is responsible for the slaughter of fifty million unborn children. Now imagine how unthinkable it is that PBS would ever show such doumentaries, even though such documentaries would be based on solid facts rather than sordid fantasy. Such is the pure hypocrisy of secular fundamentalism that only its own propaganda is permitted on so-called "public" broadcasting. There is no even-handedness, no objectivity, no voice for those who do not kow tow to the relativist dogma. Such is the self-proclaimed "tolerance" of secular fundamentalism.

June 27th, 2009Another Postcard from Orange Countyby Joseph Pearce

I never thought that I'd be waxing lyrical about the merits of California. For as long as I can remember, California has epitomised what I like least about modern America. From the dross and decadence of Hollywood, the rootless autocentric mayhem of LA, and the queer queeziness of San Francisco, the Golden State had as much appeal to me as the golden casket in The Merchant of Venice. And yet on visiting the left coast I found myself unwilingly and unwittingly seduced by its charms. No, not the "charm" of Hollywood or LA but the hidden charm of the unseen California.

On first visiting San Francisco, I succumbed to the allure of the city's architecture and topography, and I came to realize that there are many saints and silent martyrs in the midst of the madness with which the city is afflicted. If it wasn't for SF-based Ignatius Press, and SF native Father Fessio, it is possible that my books would never have found an American publisher and that they would, in consequence, have sunk without trace. Ignatius Press is nothing less than a miraculous publishing phenomenon, the history of which is enough to fortify the heart of the most disconcolate Catholic. And then there's SF's annual March for Life, inaugurated only a few short years ago, which has surprised everyone, pro-lifers and pro-abortionists alike, with the magnitude of its success and impact. Here we see the fight for the lives of millions of unborn children being taken into the very heart of the Beast.

And then of course there are the Napa and Sonoma valleys and the small wineries that are still flourishing there. I've had the immense pleasure and intense privilege of tasting the wines in these small wineries under the impassioned guidance of the vine-grower himself. As I did so, I felt the ghostly presence of Hilaire Belloc, who had visited these parts more than a century earlier, standing at my shoulder and dreaming of the inns of Tuscany and of Miranda in the high Pyrenees. 

And now I'm on vacation in Orange County succumbing once again to the Golden State's hidden charms. I find myself surprised by the joy of discovering the attractions of Seal Beach. The first thing that struck me is that most of the stores on Main Street are individually or family-owned. The place is not shackled with the chains that have enslaved strip malls in most other parts of the country. Antique stores, souvenir stores, coffee shops, restaurants, bars and Irish "pubs" all seem to be unique, and all seem to exude that genuine individual character that is sadly missing in the grey monochrome drabness of chain-stored monotony. Chain-stores are to commerce what chainsaws are to forests; they flatten everything to ground zero, or as Chesterton would say, to standardization by a low standard. Thankfully Seal Beach has not lowered its standards.

It was in Walt's Wharf, a seafood restaurant in Seal Beach, that I met my old friend Gayne Anacker on Wednesday night. With good food and microbrewed ales on the table between us, we discussed the exciting plans for the establishment of C. S. Lewis College in the near future. This wonderfully exciting venture is the work of the C. S. Lewis Foundation, of which Gayne is a key-player. Although I'm not at liberty to divulge anything about the practicalities of this endeavour, I am truly heartened by the prospect of a new "Great Books" school worthy of the great C. S. Lewis himself. And this discussion took place in a quaint and quiet town equidistant between Thomas Aquinas College to the north and the new John Paul the Geat University to the south. It was certainly sufficient to warm the cockles of this particular Englishman. It seems that California is not so bad after all!