Bad at Communion?

First of all, E-U-C-H-A-R-I-S-T, see what the Eucharist means to me. Check it:

So much Marimba, so much legit Catholic doctrine. 

If I may be so bold and jump right in, I would just like to say that I think I'm bad at communion. Not that it matters all that much anyway, since it quite frankly is not about me, but about the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ in the Holy Mass. I want to be a good communion-er, ya know? Allow me to fully elaborate.

As Catholic Christians we believe that:

Jesus is Lord of our lives.

Jesus died for us.

Jesus rose from the dead. 

Jesus ascended into heaven.

Jesus is with us always.

The Eucharist is the BODY BLOOD SOUL AND DIVINITY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST.

       NOTE: This is class I, y'all (see below). Catholicize yourselves! 

Now, I know that this is a bit confusing, but take heart. The first thought that any reasonable person would naturally conclude while showering, eating cereal, walking on the beach, waiting for the bus, sitting on the toilet, or any other good thinkin' situation is that the Eucharist is made body and blood because by the consecration of bread and wine there takes place a change of the whole substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ our Lord and of the whole substance of wine into the substance of his blood. (CCC, 1376). It's basic knowledge. Real child's stuff, that Transubstantiation! 

So if you're a practicing Catholic who has the marvelous and miraculous privilege of receiving Jesus in the Eucharist and you're anything like me, consecration happens and your mind is far from blown. What? How? Why? Oh DUH, transubstantiation, obviously... And then you spend the better portion of those precious moments kneeling in front of the King in the Universe trying to reason with yourself that the King of the FREAKING Universe is actually there, and before you know it you're walking towards him like a bride walking down the aisle to her beloved, but you're face looks like this:

and you're all like, Are you there? Is it you? But then your puffed up I'm-such-a-good-Catholic-because-I-know-my-Catechism side is all like Transubstantiation. So you sigh. Body of Christ, Amen, sign of the Cross, take your seat, kneel, fold your hands, whew. And you can breathe....Story of my life.

The small tragedy hidden in the beautiful truth of the Eucharist is this. It's me, and it's you if you can identify with the above narrative. We've reduced the greatest miracle known to man to a doctrine. (Again, I speak for myself and any individuals who can identify, and not the entire Church). We have taken a beautiful mystery and pinned it down, trying to wrestle dominion over it with our puny intellects. As if.

Conclusion: The doctrine of transubstantiation is not a bad thing. Faith and reason go hand in hand. What may be a bad thing is wasting precious moments with our beloved, striving to prove to ourselves that he's really there instead of simply being still and knowing that he is God. The world embraces concrete answers, we as Christians embrace mysteries. Let us all proclaim; Take the world and give us Christ, give us a mystery. 

Why Blogging > Studying

Why is blogging for The 'Maiden (that's right I abbreviated it...author's rights y'all - GET SOME - (also, this parenthetical rant completely defeated the purpose of abbreviating, (& commence triple layer parentheses... (Quadruple, what now?!)))), so much better than studying for final exams? Funny you should ask. You see, this question is far from difficult for me to answer. The one that I'm really struggling with is whether to approach this using list-form, personal narrative, photographic journalism, equational logic, expressive praise + worship via my keyboard, or haiku. Ehhh Ahhhh Uggghh? All of the above? Challenge accepted. (I can't promise that my conciseness will improve. See above text. Obviously not.)

So here I was, studying my Biology slides. Oh, how fascinating, I thought to myself, Scala Naturae and System Naturae and plants and trees, whoa. It was then that I realized how much I needed another Diet Coke. Proceeding to retrieve this precious sustenance, I cracked that beauty open and my caffeine addiction was curbed. Addiction. Oh, this is bad. I gulped. What happened to temperance, self control, mortification of the senses? I value those things! Would Jesus allow himself to become addicted to a brew of carbonated water, artificial flavoring, aspartame, and caramel coloring?

As I began to have a small-scale debate in my head about the potential-modern-Jesus' caffeine habits - hold up. There it is. That name. JESUS. Hey, He's the love of my life. From this point onward, my once academically focused thoughts began to spiral downward (or upward, I suppose), into one huge

Holy, Holy, Holy, Is the Lord God Almighty 

Who was and is and is to come...

Just like this! But inside my head. 

Which is one reason that writing this is so much better than studying. See through SCIENCE we know that if A=B and B=C, then A=C. 

Blogging = Evangelization

Evangelization = Love

therefore,

Blogging =  Love

And as we all know, courtesy of Les Beatles:

...love is all you need.

So. By blogging I am actually doing the following wonderful and Oh-so-much better-than-studying kinds of things;

1. Evangelizing. Don't think that I'm planting the Jesus seed in your head right now? Think about something besides Jesus right now. It can be anything. Pancakes, laundry machines, don't think about Jesus, your mother, toenails, Spongebob Squarepants, don't you dare think about how much Jesus loves you, Justin Bieber, Jesus saves...Jesus. Jesus. And you've just been evangelized.

2. Loving you. Yes, you. Love means willing the good of another person. We've learned previously (See #1) that Jesus saves. Since I want that to happen to you, and it is for your utmost good that this does, I am writing about it that you may feast your eyes upon truth and therefore am loving you. You know who else loves you? Jesus Christ. How do I know? He died to know you and to be with you for all o eternity. That's pretty legitimate. Look! I even wrote a haiku about it so that those of us who are artistically inclined can be moved by this awesome truth as well...

Jesus.

The Lord loves you lots

He loves you so stinking much

Jesus loves you lots

...Yes, this is what I learn in college. Maybe next time I'll write a sonnet. Or a limerick. 

3. Embracing my duty as a baptized member of Christ's Holy Catholic Church. (See also #1) Basically big fancy words for: I got dunked therefore I'm God's child and must tell everybody I know that said dunking saved my life. Seriously, Baptism. Try it out. Also, don't be afraid of a little water. We have a lifeguard who walks on water at your disposal. 

4. Spending time investing in the kingdom of heaven. How could I not give everything to Jesus, even my free time and the fear of what others may think of me if I boldly proclaim his word? If I was infinitely sunken in a horrible dept, only an infinite source of currency could pay my dues fully. Jesus wants to do this. He wants to pay our debts and then offer us a safe place for our treasures. I would make a safe bet that if I was offered a savings account with an infinite interest rate, I'd fork over every last cent and treasure I own! Not just the nickels and dimes I find between the cushions, either. Nope. I'd invest every last gold bar, diamond, Franklin, (as if I possessed these things)...the good stuff. Jesus is the same way. He wants the stuff that matters most to us, even the most valuable of these that we keep locked safe away from harm. Contrary to worldly tradition, this is not so that he can take our assets and invest in Walmart. He does this so he can polish, multiply, and store away our treasures for all of eternity with him. I'm all in, are you? 

So there you have it. Reasons that writing about the LORD of the UNIVERSE is much better/more fruitful/virtuous than studying for exams. I suppose I could have just said;

Because my goal in this life is to get to heaven and bring as many people with me as I can. 

But that just seemed too easy. 

Miniature Martyrdom

Sometimes I wake up in the morning feeling like P-Diddy. Sometimes I don't. Let me clarify, more often I don't. Usually I open my eyes, the light hits them and I grimace. Cross eyed, I struggle out of bed. My feet hit the floor and I can practically hear the Schindler's List violin theme playing as I lament at what could have been; more sleep. Once in a blue moon I can even feel my pulse behind my eyeballs as my head throbs to the beat of some delusional dubstep inside my skull.

Usually, though, I don't take tylenol. It's not that I enjoy it when my eyeballs feel like subwoofers, I really don't. I think that it makes me feel like a mini-martyr, it gives me some kind of sick satisfaction to suffer through the little rave going on inside by skull aaaalllll by myself...as if I'm some kind of venerable doctor of the church or something. (Human pride manifested through "holiness" at its finest, my friends.)

See, if I was Therese Martin I would rejoice in this tiny suffering, that I may offer it up to the Lord. Every day she fell asleep in prayer. She was so weak that she could barely keep up with the simple household chores. Life in the convent was very difficult for her, yet she suffered through each small tribulation for her beloved, until she began coughing up blood. During those last days as she was gasping for air, I know she was gasping for heaven, for Jesus, in utter anticipation. Therese only needed 24 years to become a B-B-B-Bad to the Bone Catholic. I anticipate that I will need at least 4 of those lifetimes, if I'm lucky....

So, how do I get my morning-self from Point A, which is this:

To Point B:

St. Perpetua: Martyr of the Church/Total Boss.

See, the problem with martyrdom is that you can't bring it on yourself. Otherwise it's suicide. And then you're a murderer...which just sucks. What you can do, however, is accept it when it shows up in any form. Welcome the punch and embrace the kick to your gut as if it's the holy cross itself. Just like St. Therese. Just like Jesus. 

Saint Perpetua is my favorite example of this. After being sentenced to death for her refusal to renounce Christ as her Lord, she was thrown to the wild beasts to be torn apart. This brave lady didn't take it like a skittish death-sentenced captive, though. No. She entered into that arena a bride running down the aisle to meet her beloved, and she was. Meet you at the altar, honey? Oh no, not this one. More like, I'll meet you at the sword, after the bull and tiger-romp, my dearest.


 Not buh-dass enough for you? The most chilling, rocking, absolute BAD TO THE BONE moment about this whole ordeal is her slaughter. After a few failed attempts by a nervous and quite amateur executioner, she reached out her hand and quietly guided the sword to her neck. Oh death, where is thy sting? Yep. Not only did she live that way, she died that way. 

I want to be like that, guys. I want to give him every fiber of my being - even the beat in my heart and the breath in my lungs, in some way at some time. I realize that my chances of an actual slaughter for his holy name isn't exactly in the cards for me, (although you never know), but I want to be that type of Christian so badly. The type that gets out of bed for him. The type that stays up an extra hour to speak to him. The type that slays any aspect of her life that doesn't honor him. That welcomes the sword of shame from this world for his name's sake. The kind of Christian that drops everything and welcomes martyrdom, just as Perpetua did when the soldiers came knocking at her front door asking, "Are you one of them?"  May we always answer with her same words, "I cannot call myself by any other name than what I am - a Christian." 

A Simple Argument Against the Craziness

I agree with pro-choicers. There, I said it. Abortion is a personal and private matter that should not be restricted in any way. We shouldn't interfere with one's personal choices. Pro-lifers, and everybody for that matter, should stay out of this decision, I agree completely if....IF. That lovely little game changer - IF. If what? If the unborn are not human beings.

Any argument for abortion will always lead back to this so called "minor detail" - the humanity of the unborn. A woman's right to her body, the freedom to choose, cases of rape and incest, financial and/or lifestyle stability will inevitably come full circle back to this fact. The unborn are human beings with inherent dignity, value, and potential, regardless of any of the above variables. Which leads me to the point at which I put on my thinking cap, (Pro-choicers, you should try it sometime), and pull out some good old fashioned logic.

Top 4 Arguments against the humanity and value of the unborn person:

"A person's a person no matter how small."

Size. This is not relevant to the worth of a human being. Is a tall person worth more than a short person? Or how about somebody with dwarfism. Absolutely not! I thought we learned this as foolish children when we choose the nickel over the dime....

Level of Development. A human being's level of development does not determine their value as a person, much less their very humanity. A 3 year old is much less developed than a 15 year old, yet they still qualify as a human being. Self awareness and mental functioning fall under this argument as well. If these factored in to our status of humanity, infants shouldn't be considered human beings, nor those who are comatose, have Alzheimer's disease, or are sleeping. Hence this ridiculousness goes down the drain along with this argument.


Environment. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to point out that the value of a person is absolutely not dependent on their whereabouts or environment. Our value doesn't fluctuate as we cross the street, the city, or the world. So, tell me pro-choicers, how is it that the value and actual humanity of the unborn skyrockets from 0 to infinity throughout the 8-inch journey down the birth canal? Hmmm....inconsistency at its finest.


Degree of Dependency. Since when does viability=humanity, I must ask? If a fetus is not a human being because it can't survive without the support of its mother's body, then the humanity of the diabetic dependent on insulin is under attack. So is that of those who fully depend on medications, dialysis, life support, or even the life-saving interventions of another person. Assuming the argument that viability is the new humanity, and for the sake of  consistent philosophy, conjoined twins should be stripped of their human nature and right to life, as they share blood and body systems. Offensive? Absolutely. So is this argument.

We would be wise to ditch these arguments as a culture, and fast. For we have been guaranteed the inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Take note, society, that the first of these three rights is absolutely necessary in order to be granted the latter two, and as we scream for justice in the name of "women's rights", we are denying an abominable amount of the future generation's right to simply BE BORN. 


Life is not a choice. Human dignity cannot be determined. It simply is.  

Wedding Feast at Cana

She had never seen such a lovely wedding feast. The food and dancing, the music and joy! Turning towards a jolt of excitement, Mary saw Jesus laughing at a table with his companions. Her hand embracing the clay of the water jars along the stone wall, she gazed at her son with such love. He had always had a way of captivating those who listened to his endearing stories.

The memory of Simeon's words to her in the temple when Jesus was not one year old were kept captive in her heart, but she pondered them every day. He had held her precious son, her very life, in his hands and looked into her eyes. Quietly he said,
"This child will be the cause of rise and fall of many in Israel."
When Jesus was placed safely back into her arms, she felt the warmth of the living God against her breast.
"And you, dear mother, will have your heart pierced with pain," he finished.

Mary had contemplated these words for the last thirty years. She knew that her son was sent by God, that there was a terrifying salvation about to unfold, but to her he was simply Jesus. He was her little boy who played in the sand and sang songs with her as they walked through the gardens. She remembered teaching him how to pray, and wondering how it was that she would teach God himself how to pray and worship in faith. Yet she did.

Watching him grow into a young man, she prayed every day that God would give her the strength to let him go when it was time. Many of his friends began to marry, yet she didn't push Jesus. Oh God, she thought, what a father he would be! Grandchildren would delight her, and badly she wanted them, but she quietly continued to serve him as his mother and closest companion.

A few months earlier, her son told her that he needed to leave home to teach. She did not understand, but she blessed him and watched him walk alone into the desert as a tear rolled down her cheek. Since that lonely day, she had heard stories from travelers and relatives that many crowds began to accompany him when he spoke. They told her with astonishment of the voice that hundreds from heaven when he was baptized in the Jordan, saying, "This is my beloved son, of whom I am well pleased."

Of course, she laughed to herself. If they only knew.

Harsh whispers in the stone hallway brought her back to reality. The groom looked around with panic, "Out of wine? How can that be?" He knew as well as she that this would bring shame to his bride and her family. He looked so lost as his eyes met Mary's, quick to turn away and frantically gather his servants.

She spotted Jesus in the sunlight, smiling in conversation with a friend. Walking up to him, she gave her son, her beloved son, a hug and cupped his cheek. "Are you enjoying yourself, Mama?" He asked. She nodded with confusion in her heart looking into the warm eyes of her little boy, then to his gentle smile, then his beard. His beard, yes. She felt so torn, but she must remember that he was a grown man. She so wanted to protect him, she even wished they could go back to their poverty in the cave on the night of his birth. Anything to simply hold him close for hours upon end. But that was then, this is now. It was time to share him with the world.

"They are out of wine," she said with a tilt of her head and a pained smile in her eyes. Jesus understood. He looked into the stone hallway and saw the worry of the family. "Mama, It's just....not now. It's so soon.."

Knowing fully that this would mean the beginning of the end, she shakily grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "They are out of wine, Jesus," and she kissed his cheek and walked into the house.

"Do whatever Jesus tells you, we realize you are in a bit of a struggle," she told the servants. They nodded in confusion. Her work was done, and she knew that what was to come would change the life of her and her precious son forever. Let it be done unto me, she whispered, looking up towards the sky.

Mary, our mother, watches over all of her children at the table of the living feast. That's us! We who dine at the table of Jesus are watched over by the mother that was given to us by our Lord. She notices when our cups are not overflowing, and she goes to Jesus. What happens next? John 2:9 


In perfect faith Mary intercedes for us to her son constantly, then backs away humbly into the shadows as her son changes our water into the finest wine. We would be wise to always take her gentle instruction, and do whatever he tells us, giving him the water of our entire life and knowing with certainty that he will transform it into a spring of never-ending wine in his glorious feast. 

Dear Cecile Richards...

Dear Cecile Richards,

Hello Miss Richards. I'm very interested in your "healthcare institution" and I would love to talk about some things with you. Maybe a coffee date, we could make balloon animals out of condoms if we get bored? Anyway, as President of Planned Parenthood I'm sure that you have all sorts of fun things to talk about! The poverty line, quality healthcare for women via suction machine and forceps, etc....

But first of all, I have to inquire. Abortions make up 3% of your services? That's funny, the numbers don't quite add up to those of us who, well, value truth. In 2010 your clinics saw 3 million "patients". You performed 329,445 abortions that same year. Hmm....

So 11% of the clients you saw receive an abortion. That's not 3%. But you did say services didn't you? I guess I forgot to mention that one service=one packet of birth control, one pregnancy test, one box of condoms, etc. So that is where you are getting this number, I would assume?

I see how it is. You lure in the 14 year old girl with the enticing idea of free birth control, give her a box of the world's most failing condoms, the birth control pill, and what the heck...might as well test her for diseases while she's here. Oh hey, here's a box of condoms for your boyfriend, here's one for your sister! Gosh, look at all the good services we are providing! That's 5 "services". If you provided about 11 million services in 2010 and you saw 3 million patients, your average client receives 3.6 services in a year, so that's a bit of an extreme, but not too far off. Statistically, she will be back for an abortion ($$$) if you load her up with contraception, because according to the Guttmacher institute, when contraception use increases anywhere from 49-80%, the abortion rate more than DOUBLES. Funny how that works. Turns out if you give somebody a pair of waders they will go play in the mud, if you know what I mean ;] 

So Cecile, I have to ask...what's there to hide? Your predecessor, Pamela Maraldo condemned abstinence based sex-ed programs and instead publicly agreed with the stance of our then U.S. Surgeon General, Jocelyn Elders, who is quoted saying;

"We've taught our children in driver's education what to do in the front seat, and now we've got to teach them what to do in the back seat."

Or how about your founder, Margaret Sanger? You of all people must know that that tiny magical little pill you practically throw to children in parades was created to eliminate the "inferior race" of black people. You can't support that? Of course not! 

Then I must ask, why is it that 37% of the abortions you perform are on black women, who only compromise 13% of the population in this country? Maybe it's because in Texas, for example, 72% of your facilities are in neighborhoods that are disproportionately black or Hispanic? Or that in 42 of the 50 states the large majority of your clinics are located in zip codes in which the black and Hispanic population is 250-1000% above the national average? Yeah, you guys have come a long way since Margaret Sanger's days...

Miss Richards, please do reply! I would love to get coffee with you and discuss the suction and curettage of the blobs of tissue occupying the wombs of our nations minorities, and your stance on it! Heh heh. 

I hope you can sleep at night,

Bridget Ann Buettner, sane human being A.K.A. pro-life activist

The 4th Cup A.K.A. The Most Important Thing You Will Ever Read About.

"The Body of Christ."

"...Amen." 

"Twenty Bucks"

"AMEN"

"A Brand New Car"

"AMMEEEN!!!!"

Have you ever had to explain the Eucharist to somebody who doesn't know what it is, or rather, who it is? 

"It's like...ummm...well. It's Jesus. He's hiding in the bread....body blood soul and divinity...Transubstantiation. Ummm..." 

(Wipes sweat from brow and awkwardly chuckles.)

It's ridiculously difficult, especially as we never will fully grasp the beautiful mystery of this gift! The church even declares it a mystery, giving us scriptural reasoning and many helpful teachings, but the truth is that they in all of their detailed theology and reason, will never be enough, just as any definition that man could possibly give in regards to God will never measure up to the very definition of infinite goodness. 

Which leads me to my hopefully relevant point; What if our parish priests announced Jesus in the Eucharist in the same way that Bob Barker announces a shiny new car? What if we responded with similar jaw dropping, awe inspired, joyful, undeserving, screaming and wholehearted YES'S in our AMENS? I think that if we knew truly and deeply what we receive when we hold out our hands or stick out or tongues for that stale little wafer, we would fall to our knees and die, as if struck by an invisible trillion-ton force field of truth.

But! For the sake of a very small and imperfect sliver of understanding of the greatest gift we will ever receive, we need to think like a Jew. After all, Jesus was Jewish, and the Last Supper was, in itself, the Jewish Passover meal that was shared between Jesus and his apostles.

The Passover was a covenant between God and his chosen peeps in order to claim them as his own, his family, his very flesh and blood. It's pretty legit. It also saved them from death, as they were marked with the blood of the lamb that they cooked up, so that was pretty cool too.

The supper itself consisted of 4 parts with 4 cups of wine to "seal the deal" for each one. It went as follows:

• 1st Cup: Pray/Bless/Sanctify
• 2nd Cup: "Story Time" of how God delivered Israel throughout the ages
• 3rd Cup: PIG OUT!!!! Meal time - roasted lamb, unleavened bread, bitter herbs etc. 
• 4th Cup: Great Hillel ("Great Hallelujah") Long Praises. THIS IS THE CLIMAX OF THE WHOLE STINKING THING!!! OTHERWISE KNOWN AS THE CONSUMMATION CUP. 

The 3rd Cup is where Jesus instituted the Eucharist,  and this is were the ever mysterious and unpredictable Jesus continues to amaze and confuse his followers:

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, "Take it; this is my body." Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank from it. "This is the blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many," he said to them. "Truly I tell you, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the Kingdom of God." 

Mark 14:22-25

Jesus, you make no sense....

In the words of Bob Barker; "But wait! There's more...." You see, Jesus was very clear. They all drank of his blood, the 3rd Cup, then they sung a hymn and left. They skipped the 4th Cup, the very CLIMAX of the feast, the CUP OF CONSUMMATION that marked the finality of the family bond to God, the feast wasn't over. If that seems like nbd to y'all, it would be the same thing as going to mass and the priest went through the whole liturgy and consecration then just skipped communion. If a bride and groom went through their whole beautiful and tearful wedding, then skipped the vows and rings and called it a day. It's a huge deal. 

Fast-forward through the passion of Jesus. Hours of agony in worry, lonely imprisonment, a bloody and torturous scourging, carrying the crushing wood of the cross up a hill, and being nailed to a tree. This is the sacrifice of Calvary. This is what we think of when we think of the great sacrifice of our Lord. But right before Jesus dies, what does he muster the strength to say?

"I Thirst"

So the soldiers "put a sponge full of wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the wine, he said, "It is finished." Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." John 19:29

"It" is the Passover sacrifice, as well as the Calvary sacrifice. For before his betrayal, in the agony in the garden, Jesus prayed to his father; Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will. Matthew 26:39. The cup he speaks of is the 4th Cup of the Passover sacrifice that he has not drunk yet, the Cup that will finish the Passover Meal. Which means that Jesus' Calvary Sacrifice actually started in the upper room during the Last Supper with his apostles, and the Last Supper didn't actually end until Calvary. Making the two of them one inseparable and unified sacrifice. Do you know what this means?

It means that the mass, and most especially the EUCHARIST, is our 4th Cup. Jesus drank of the 4th cup, but his apostles did not. When we kneel before the altar at mass, before Jesus in the bread and wine, we are kneeling before the Crucified Jesus, the Lamb of God, the PASSOVER LAMB (it's in the bible),  accepting both our 4th Cup of the sacrifice, the consummation cup, the communion and crucifixion of our Lord, inseparably. Mind Blowing? Yes. Do we need to fully grasp it? No. We never will. If we could totally and completely understand this mystery, our minds would be bigger than his sacrifice, his passion subordinate to our intellects. 

So what do we do? We pray for the grace to see Jesus in the Eucharist, not with our eyes, but with faith. We receive him and let him receive us, sharing flesh and blood, consummating our love with our heavenly bridegroom. And we say "AMEN" when he gives himself to us, because he is oh-so-much better than a new car. 

How Not to Offend People

"The world promises you comfort, but you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness."

Pope Benedict XVI

We are in the midst of an "anything goes" culture where morality is taking a downward spiral right along with common sense, as depression, divorce, dissatisfaction, boringness, and overall mediocrity are skyrocketing in all of their glory. See, I know what you're thinking. It sounds like a real hell-hole of a society. Where do you live? America, thank you very much. And this is precisely the point I'm trying to make. We've gotten altogether way too comfortable with, well...comfort. 

When I say comfort I don't just mean that we have enough food in our homes at any given time to feed a pack of wolves, or that we have clothes way too expensive to be lived in, or even that we have cars that are nicer than some people's houses. No. As messed up as that is, I'm not really feeling like going there right now. What I mean by comfort is the sense of comfort that one has upon going to a baseball game in which there is no knowledge of, attachment, or fidelity to either team. There is a carelessness about it. It is easy to spend most of the time in line at the concession stand because we are bored with the actual reason we are there, the game. 

So while we are spending $5 for a baseball brat and a $5 for a  beer, (Excuse the condescending tone. I do not judge, I've totally done it), fans are screaming, cheering, singing, enjoying the game. But what do we care, we have no allegiance to either team. In fact, we can't even remember if the home team is American or National League. 

At the baseball field this boredom and indifference might be okay, but in life it's unacceptable, and it has proven devastating. If we don't know which team we play for, the opponents, their stats, the field we're playing on, or the rules of the game, all hope is lost. If we know all of this like the back of our hand, yet we are too scared to get out there and play ball, we are victims to an awful shame and a horrific "could have been." 

So, my advice to you, if you like brats and beer and comfort, don't speak up. Don't play for a team. Even better; say you play for a team, then chicken out when it's game time. That keeps you looking like you know your stuff, all while never having to run the bases. But for those of you to whom the nosebleed seats and the dugout just aren't good enough, you take up your bat and step onto that field, regardless of how hard the home team "boos." For Jesus' picks up his wooden bat - the cross, and runs the bases for you to this day, playing for the win. And really, who doesn't want to play with Jesus? 

Wanna See My Scars?

For I bear on my body the scars that show I belong to Jesus.

~ Galatians 6:17

Jesus rose from the dead. The father raised him up from the grave, healing his body, putting breath and life and soul into it once again. Oh death, where art though sting? The traces of his death left behind on his body, his wounds, Jesus showed to prove to the doubtful Thomas. If he could raise up the destroyed temple of his body all while going to hell and back (literally) for his people, he couldn't fix a few scars of the flesh? I mean, really, we have ointments for that these days. But like his terrible death, maybe it isn't a question of his power, but of his humility and love. Not only did he allow himself to be utterly tormented physically and spiritually for us -  humiliated for us - but he bore the scars on his body for us, even after his rising. Maybe as an Easter people, a people who have died to ourselves and our ways, rising with Jesus to an abundance of joy and love, we are to embrace our scars as well. For they remind us of the small ways in which we were pierced and bled for our Lord. They prove that our bloodshed has brought us deeper into his passion, they provide for us a witness to his life.

This Easter weekend my beautiful God-daughter, Ericka, was accepted into the Catholic church, sealed with the Holy Spirit in Confirmation, and received Jesus in the Eucharist for the first time after 19 years of a non-denominational Christian background. Over these recent years, letting Jesus use me to draw her to his bride, the Church, to support her and watch him work wonders in her, has taught me more than I have taught, revealed to me more than I have revealed to her. 

Watching her courage as she stood up in front of hundreds on that vigil night, receiving Jesus, I cried. She gave up her old way of life, her old church along with its built-in coffee shop. She walked out on it with its phenomenal preaching and the support of her family, with much to lose and what to gain? Everything worth our love. The body and blood of he who loves her, the marriage supper of the lamb. Watching her stand before the altar of the Lord, knowing her journey, I wonder if she ever feels the scars of her sacrifices. God knows she has given up much for him, and she knows that if she accepts this life he has invited her to, she will continue to bleed for him. Does it scare her like it often scares me looking towards the future? 

When I asked her what it was like receiving the Jesus' precious body and blood in the eucharist for the first time, she didn't have much to say. She felt overwhelming love and the sense that Nothing. Else. Matters. She received the living God who humbled himself into the form of bread and wine to come into her body as food. What else is there to matter - to really truly matter? Her words haunt me with the sting of my own pride, as I bring my pleas to Jesus, often forgetting that dwelling with his true presence will always be enough. 

We have been blessed. Our lives are gifts that bring about his kingdom upon being given back to him that gives freely. What else is there to matter? We can be pierced and slashed, crushed and humiliated by this world and our circumstances, but if we give it all to Jesus we will rise with him, bearing the scars as proof of his victory in us.

Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

Dwight K. Schrute. Most likely not a prime specimen to examine in a Catholic article on a Catholic blog....written by a Jesus loving Catholic herself.

FALSE. This beet-farming, paper-selling, safety-loving Sasquatch of a man portrays many enviable qualities. BUT watch out...envy is one of the 7 Deadly Sins, be careful. (He would probably want you to envy him anyway, to ensure a status of dominance over your spiritual life.)

Besides the fact that Dwight is merciless and of a quite corrupted mind, we have much to learn from him. Loyalty, fearlessness, tradition, strength, dedication. The ability to question and doubt all that is of little importance to his way of life. These are among the more virtuous attributes of said man. What does this have to do with Jesus? Catholicism? Lent? So very much, in fact.

Dwight Schrute is a 1 Corinthians 16 kind of man. "Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong." (1 Cor 16:13) You never see this guy wasting time, and he falters never. He "makes no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires" (Rom 13:14), with a slight few exceptions. There's the occasional beet delicacy, the mug of beer with cousin Mose, OH... and the premarital sex with his coworker Angela. Take note, however, that Dwight always realizes the errors that being led by his own flawed fleshly desires cause him to fall from his higher goals. Given the choice between pleasure or a painful victory, you had better believe that this man chooses victory, with a capital V, mind you.

As a woman, I especially look up to Dwight Schrute with his Proverbs 31 demeanor. Any faithful Catholic man seeks a lovely Proverbs 31 lady, and every devout Catholic woman seeks to be one.

"She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future." Proverbs 31:25. 


(Bet you never thought you'd see a picture of Audrey Hepburn in a post about Dwight Schrute...)

Direct quote from Dwight Schrute:

"I do not fear the unknown. I will meet my new challenges head-on, and I will succeed, and I will laugh in the faces of those who doubt me." 


Sounds strangely Proverbs 31 to me!!! You see, we have much to learn from Dwight. We are called to be fearless, perseverance in Christ is essential. Dwight realizes this, though for seemingly different causes.

Dwight is notorious for extremes. His life is one big extreme, reflecting his upbringing and total commitment to his goal of total and complete domination and dominion over every person in his way. (Note: Neither the Catholic Church nor myself endorse this kind of behavior.) What we can take out of this, however, is the complete loyalty and authenticity of his persona in every aspect of his life.

If this article didn't make much sense, there is little I can do to alleviate the feelings of confusion you may have. I would recommend watching The Office, this may help. Or better yet, turn off your computer, PRAY, go to Mass, and pray some more. This always soothes the confusion in my life.

If you take little out of reading this, it is my hope that you will remember this in the face of opposing forces;
"I am ready to face any challenges that are foolish enough to face me." ~Dwight K. Schrute.

Let us all, as Christians with our strength and confidence in Christ, pull a Dwight on Satan. Come at me.

Rock your beads.

When in doubt; Rock the beads. 

Seriously you guys. We need to make the rosary popular again, we must! A priceless gem for the road to holiness, it's more precious than your grandmother's locket, more important than prime time television, and more dangerous than a whip against the wickedness and snares of the devil. 

Think of the rosary as your own personal journey through the life of Christ, meditating on his works, all while walking arm in arm with his mother - your mother. It's Mary taking you gently by the hand, (or maybe in some cases gently by the earlobe,) to her son. I mean, think about it. What mother doesn't love to show off her child? What if her child is, well...God? You had better believe that she is ready and waiting for our cooperation to show us the blessed fruit of her womb, Jesus. 

Have you ever wondered why the rosary is shaped like it is? Well, Mary didn't intend for it to be a necklace, we know that. So what kind of design is that? Impractical, let me tell you! But maybe, maybe, we need to broaden the horizons here a little. I like to think of the rosary as a lasso. Mary's an outlaw cowgirl, running from the law of this world, taking with her those who she can get under her beaded lasso and heading west to gold country, Heaven. 

If you aren't really into westerns, how about a fisherman's tale? Many of the apostles were fisherman, after all, Jesus called them to be fishers of men, and Mary is often referred to as Star of the Sea, so I find this intriguingly relevant! The rosary isn't just a superstitious and pious decoration on deck of the fishing boats - NO, SCURVY LASS, NO! It be the very floats on the fishing nets cast out in blue waters, yeh see? First Mate Mary be fishing for souls out of the deep abyss. 

Practical Details:

1. Don't own a rosary? Seriously, email me and I will personally see to it that you obain one. Otherwise, you have ten fingers. You can figure it out. 
2. Don't know how to pray it? Here ya go! 
3. Don't know the mysteries of the rosary by heart? Join the club. 

Aaaannnd as if I could make it any more convenient for you, there are tons of free rosary apps out there that include meditations for each mystery of the rosary, all of those prayers we never actually memorized, and bunches of other great things worth downloading!

      So there you go, sons and daughters of Mary, cowgirls and cowboys, runaways and outlaws, pirates and fishermen, PRAY!

Battery Life for the Journey

I have something on my mind. I don't know how it's going to look written out in Times New Roman (or whatever font this is, for that matter), but you win some you lose some I suppose! So here goes; I'm sick of going to mass and adoration and seeing heaps and heaps of people who so seem to have got it together. There, I said it. Maybe it's pride, envy, some other deadly sin that I don't know of, but it irks me like nobody's business.

I think Abigail Van Buren said it better than I ever could:

"The church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints." Bam. 

Bllleeeeeeerggggghhh

What I want to see more of are the strugglers, stragglers, and confused. The WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE-ers and the Where do I go from here-ers. I want to see people groveling on their hands and knees, dragging themselves on their stomachs to the front steps of the church as if their very lives depended on it. As if they were recently lost in the desert for a month, dying of thirst and covered in festering sun blisters, and the church had a big flashing sign that read: COMPLIMENTARY FRESH WATER & ALOE VERA OINTMENT! Now that's what I'm talking about. 

This isn't to say that my dear brothers and sisters who are in mass every Sunday or faithfully skipping into mass as a part of their daily routine aren't struggling through life. The devout and consistent Christian is a weary traveler too. But maybe the difference between the weary Christians and the rest of the whole wide weary world is that we Jesus-Freaks just can't handle the desert. Not alone, at least. We thirst, and the water among the miles of sand is scarce and fleeting, quick to evaporate into vapor. We can't stay in the desert for too long, we are so weak and we need our strength. There are people out in the desert both crying for help and clinging to the sand, scoffing at those who try to save them from their so called "home". We can't just leave them there, and we certainly cannot deny them our life-giving water. To put it into modern language; We are sad, cracked, broken little ipods and the Church is our IHome, charging us up with vitality! And battery life! And Jesus! Amen! 

So I ask this, When is the last time you met somebody that really needs a home? A good home-cooked meal? Not just in a literal sense, but in a good cold water, aloe vera ointment, and IHomes kind of way! Point to the neighborhood church, invite them along, say a prayer for them, tell them how important they are to you. Christ can use us as water for the journey to those around us in many ways. In my experience, I've never physically stumbled into a church, limping in from the battlefield that lies outside. But! I do frequently, (as in every single day), sigh deeply as I sink back into the pew, knowing that I get my steak and potatoes, my daily bread, my daily Jesus. 

FIAT: Not just an Italian Automobile Manufacturer.

Fiat: (fee-aht) Latin; let it be done. 

Happy Feast of the Annunciation, everybody! Praise be Jesus Christ! Today is the day on which the Annunciation is traditionally celebrated since March 25 is 9 months before December 25, pretty cool eh?


On this day the angel Gabriel appeared to a teen aged girl named Mary and told her something that would change her life, as well as the course of history from that moment forward. So, I don't know about you guys, but when I find out that somebody I know is expecting, I flip out. I can't wait to see their pregnancy pictures and I knit them baby hats and I get so excited! Well, today I'm extra excited, because this is the day that Mary found out she was going to have a baby, and he would be the son of God.
(It's kind of a really big deal.)


As if finding out the savior of the world is on his way isn't enough for one day, I'm going to slam even more Marian goodness your way. Mary is some woman, let me tell you. Like...she's awesome. Engaged to Joseph, with many plans I'm sure, this wasn't exactly the ideal time for a baby, let alone a baby that Joseph would know with upmost certainty wasn't his. She would definitely lose her marital arrangement. The community as well, whether they thought the child was Joseph's or not, would most likely stone Mary to death for becoming pregnant out of wedlock, and she would greatly dishonor her betrothed as well as her family. What a good situation to be in.

But what did Mary do? She didn't ask what would become of her plans, her relationship, her family, nor her very life. She says;

Behold, the handmaid of the Lord. Let it be done unto me according to your word. 

She said YES!!! And not just yes, but a beautiful, classy, faith-filled fiat! How much more lovely she is as compared to I, who maybe, maybe, and I repeat - maybe, would have had the courage to whimper out a small and pathetic, "Okay...If you say so". It can even be hard to mutter that small and measly OK in the face of what is known, such as what is expected of us in our responsibilities and what is asked of those who walk in the footsteps of Christ. How much more difficult is it to give that wholehearted YES to that what is yet unknown? What faith and humility our mother did show on this day! 

What happened next? Luke's Gospel tells us that immediately "the angel departed from her" (38). No "Congratulations!",  no pat on the back, no "She said yes! Oh boy, Oh boy! She said YES!". Nope. She was given that little promise from God, and she trusted him in faith, as horribly inconvenient as it may have been.

The fruit of Mary's fiat? The word became flesh and dwelt among us. Worth it? You know it was. Then, now, and forever.

Get Out of my Conscience!

If you attended, heard about, prayed for, or are even just now learning about today's festivities of over 140 Rallies for Religious Freedom across the United States, PAT YOURSELF ON THE BACK! Today I had the marvelous privilege of taking part in the Minneapolis/St. Paul, MN Rally for Religious Freedom to STOP the HHS Mandate. There were over 2,000 peace loving, freedom loving Catholics, Christians, Jews, Muslims, and other flag flyin' Americans present at this rally alone, and with rallies taking place simultaneously from sea to shining sea, that makes today's event the largest national rally in defense of the First Amendment in the history of this country. Jinkies!!!

Look! I even took some pictures for you guys! Somebody let me stand on a bench in front of them because I'm so puny! SCORE!!!!

The fight, however, is far from over. With many a popular and well worded yet oh-so-cliche opposition to the Catholic (and, well...sane) side of the fight, we've got sleeves to roll up and hands to get dirty. So here I go:

One of my favorites that I will attempt to address with poise and grace is the whole "98% of Catholic women use contraception" statement. Oh boy, it's list time: 

1. First of all, this is an extremely misleading and overgeneralized statistic that should quite honestly be disregarded and done away with...but don't take my word for it.
2. Even if  100% of Catholic women truthfully used some form of birth control, it's irrelevant to the reasons for opposing the mandate. Truth is truth even if nobody believes it. 
3. If a survey found that 98% of people lied, cheated on their taxes, or had sex outside of marriage, can the government claim it can force everybody to do so? HA. Hogwash. 
4. We realize that a good number of Catholic couples do use some form of contraception. The Church, unlike the government, respects the freedom of conscience of its persons to choose. Hey government, take a hint, why don't ya? 

And that's only one of the opposing arguments! One measly statistic among a few other measly arguments for the mandate. Ha, the Catholic Church has outlived every major empire since its birth, bring it Health and Human Services! 

I also managed to get a picture of a beautiful lady I met, she was so gracious to let me photograph her, (right). Though I do believe that she spelled charnel wrong, it really struck me as beautiful and very brave. Which has been eating away at me all day. We need to be brave, courageous men and women-NO - sons and daughters of God (King of the Universe nbd), especially in the face of moral issues such as this one, as well as the fight for human life in our nation. I can't wait for the day, and Lord Jesus I hope it is coming, that we can truly call our nation one of LIFE, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

We CAN do this guys, for if God is with us who can be against us? 

The Lampstands

Today as I was reading a favorite and familiar scripture verse, I was reminded of both a past experience and my last post, Feminine Genius. Check out Revelation (WHOOOAAAAA APOLCALYSPE!!!!???!!) 1:12-20 below!

A Vision of Christ

I turned to see whose voice it was that spoke to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands I saw one like the Son of Man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash across his chest. His head and his hair were white as white wool, white as snow; his eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined as in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of many waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and from his mouth came a sharp, two edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining with full force. 
When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he placed his right hand on me,  saying, "Do not be afraid, I am the first and the last, the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever; and I hold the keys of Death and of Hades. 


Pretty cool, huh? Well...yea, if you're into that sort of creepy dramatic fiery end-of-the-ages thing. But if you're a good normal Catholic Christian you'd be all like:

I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Glowing risen Jesus is perfectly normal! If you consider the fact that he's, well, God, no biggie. But I digress, this isn't the point. To make some sense of the inner workings of my mind and the Holy Spirit pertaining to the above Revelation passage, I'm going to have to share with yall a beautiful experience I recently had at a retreat.

I was being prayed over by six of my beautiful sisters in Christ. They all had their hands on me, asking Jesus to give me his Holy Spirit in a deeper way. I remember feeling so warm, but it wasn't on my skin. It was coming from inside of me, similar to the feeling of an adrenaline high, but BETTER! I heard Jesus tell me I was warm because he was holding me in his arms like a little child, and then the tears came. One of my sisters began to have a vision of me. A bright light was coming out of me like the sun, as she described it. I knew it was his spirit inside of me, I knew he wanted to shine through me.

Later, the same woman who had the vision shared Revelation 1:12-20 with our small group. The Lord had placed it in her heart and she needed to share it with us. Instantly upon hearing it I was overwhelmed. This was the might and the warmth and strength of Jesus that I felt! The most beautiful part is that about the lampstands, though. There were seven women in my small group, myself included, just as there were seven golden lampstands. We were all on fire for Christ, gleaming like gold for him, but I noticed that lampstands themselves aren't lamps. This is why Jesus wanted me to hear this, he was speaking to me, and to everyone reading this as well. The light that shone out of me wasn't actually me, it was him. He wants us to hold him up like a lampstand holds a light up so that all of the darkness will be lit with his brilliant, shining light.

It gets even better! Jesus goes on to tell John in Revelation 1 that the seven lampstands represent the seven churches. The mission of the church is to bring the light to all corners of darkness in this world, to continue the kingdom on earth. In my last post I wrote about how us woman are called in a special way to be little churches to the world, offering ourselves as sanctuaries of life-giving love, sharing the graces of the sacraments to all, and holding up this very same light that is burning inside of us.
(Men, you guys are called to be lampstands too, but maybe less pretty shiny ones). ;)

 So bros and sistas, let him shine through you. Be the light of the world because he is the light of the world and you can't contain his joy and love. For you prepare a feast before me in the presence of my enemies. You honor me and anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. (Psalm 23) Let's let our cups overflow with his love. Imagine the possibilities if we let the eternal and infinitive Lord Jesus Christ do his thing, bubbling over out of our lives and into the world like red hot lava - but way hotter and more dangerous than lava - but in a good kind of dangerous, world-changing, soul-changing way. Ya know? I am nothing but his lampstand, though crooked and tarnished I am, and that's all I desire. Anyone with me?

Feminine Genius

GIRL POWER!

I have come to find, as have many other ladies young and old,  that it can often be quite difficult as a woman to discover one's role in the church, home, and, well, the world. Maybe it's because  femininity is powerful stuff, it has the potential to inspire. Or is it the fear of extremes, since anything bursting at the seams, even with a good thing, tends to scare us off. 

See, as women striving to bring about the kingdom, we don't want our femininity to look like this,

And we CERTAINLY do not want it to resemble in any way this:

So where's the balance, what does it mean to be a woman of God? Pope John Paul called it our feminine genius....take a look:

"At this moment when the human race is undergoing so deep a transformation, women imbued with the spirit of the Gospel can do so much to aid humanity in not falling."

~JPII

In short form: Women are the Church's stealth weapon of the 21st Century. In fact, I'm going to be so bold as to say that women are called to be mini-churches in the world. Sounds a little weird, right? Yea, but hear me out! A church is a sanctuary, a beautiful dwelling place that gives life. Sounds kind of like the role of a wife and mother, either in a physical sense or a spiritual one! Well that's pretty neat....BUT WAIT! It get's even cooler!

What happens in a church? The sacraments happen! Let's start from the beginning. Baptism. A new child of God is welcomed to the family that is the church. This should ring a bell, for a woman does this same thing in the home and community, what with bringing new life into the world, as well as being hospitable and welcoming to her family.  

Confirmation. This continues the work of baptism, if you will. It supports and encourages as well as affirms. It is a seemingly normal and calm event as the Holy Spirit is received in the faithful, but Oh it is not ordinary and optional. It makes Christians into adults, in the good sense. Sounds an awful lot like the role of a gentle mother, sister, or friend to a loved one, doesn't it?

The Eucharist. We are fed by God with bread from heaven, the precious body and blood of his son, Jesus Christ. UNION WITH GOD. It's quite literally a kiss from heaven. We are nourished and sustained by him, and we find comfort and strength in his embrace. This reminds me so much of my mother. I couldn't have grown up happy and strong to go out into the world if she didn't spend all of those years feeding me and loving me with hugs! 

Reconciliation. Our sins are taken away and we are purified. We are wiped clean. It's like God goes at our souls with some rubber gloves and a nice bottle of Clorox. That's funny, is God suggesting that I, as a woman, should like cleaning? Well, not necessarily. He hasn't stamped my heart with the sole desires and purposes of cooking and cleaning. I imagine the care and importance that the Virgin Mary would have had in her heart as she wiped food off of the face of her son, bathed him, and cleaned the dirt out of his scrapes. That is what God wants from us as women. How beautiful would it be if we, as women, were sources of this comfort and healing?

I don't write this to silence anybody and I don't intend to tell a single woman to always use soft, cheerful tones and cross her ankles. This isn't what God had in mind when he gave us our feminine nature. His plan for women has never depended simply on how polite, charming, or lovely a woman was. Rahab was a harlot, Martha was flustered, Leah was ugly, Hagar slept with Sarah's husband, Sarah was kind of a diva about it, and Mary Magdalene was a horrible sinner who had 7 demons cast out of her. Yikes. And the lord used these ladies as crucial persons in preparing the way of salvation, of Jesus. I'm pretty sure he can/will use us too continue his work. 

Ladies, we aren't men. We are different than men. This should be a joyful and wonderful thing, not an oppressive one!  For this is not the will of God, that his daughters be enslaved by their femininity, but set free by it, and setting others free along with us. He wants us to embrace our beauty and our femininity so that his beauty can shine through us. Amen?