Kathryn Lopez writesat National Review about David Gregory's memoir published last September. She notes that George Bush asked Gregory "How's your Faith." She then writes about Bush's book "Decision Points" and how his Faith shaped his approach to his responsibilities and decisions. She notes:
You don’t have to agree with all his decisions to see that his faith was more than a “sense of comfort” and “safe harbor,” as Gregory had once described it in a question to a Republican presidential-primary candidate several cycles ago. It was, as Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas once described to me his own faith, “his North Star.” It guided and inspired and humbled Bush, giving him more strength and power than any elected office or esteemed position in the world.
She then discusses this current season, Advent, and how that question posed by Bush to Gregory is very apropos. Her closing paragraph is very good:
I have to laugh as I look around and see Dunkin’ Donuts ads urging us to “share the joy.” I won’t deny that if you bring a dozen donuts to work on a Monday or Wednesday or any other day, you’ll bring some cheer, or at least a possibly needed sugar rush. But true joy — knowing there’s more than the current burdens and even love — transforms. So while Christmas shopping or holiday partying, take a moment to ask, “How’s your faith?” Does it mean something more than a calendar date or an obligation or a consoling ritual? Would anyone ever know it from the way we live?
The movie, Arrival, is a very good science fiction movie. It has received a number of favorable reviews ( National Review, Catholic News, The Federalist), but the one I found most interesting was not so much a review, as it was an analysis, by bishop Robert Barron. He uses the plot of the movie to discuss the interpretation of Christian Scriptures. He writes:
But I would like to elaborate upon what this film says, at least implicitly, in regard to what we call divine revelation. One of the core convictions of the Christian faith is that God has spoken to his people, that a real communication has come from his transcendent realm and entered into our consciousness. Furthermore, believers hold, this communication is codified in the Bible, which, accordingly, is not one book among many, not one more human attempt to express our convictions about God, but rather, in a real sense, God’s word to us, God’s language, God’s speech.
When I wrote to my sister about this movie, I used the subject of the email to refer to the movie Aloha which starred Bradley Cooper and Emma Stone. Rachel McAdam's character's son (Mitchell) asks Cooper's character (Brian) "Are you the Arrival?" Mitchell is taken with Hawaii mythology and movie making. I also thought it very interesting that all hell breaks lose in Arrival when the earthly interpreters think that the aliens are talking about a weapon. I was reminded of a line from the movie The Book of Eli. Gary Oldman's character (Carnegie) who is desperately searching for any copy of the Bible that may still exist says to his right hand man "It's not just a book, it's a weapon pointed at the heart of every man." I highly recommend this movie, and reading bishop Barron's article. You might also want to watch The Book of Eli, and Aloha.
Charles Chaput, the archbishop of Philadelphia, spoke at the University of Notre Dame again on 19 October 2016. The National Catholic Register reports here. He begins by discussing a manuscript illustration of Mary he received via e-mail a week before his talk. He writes:
It’s a picture of Mary punching the devil in the nose. She doesn’t rebuke him. She doesn’t enter into a dialogue with him. She punches the devil in the nose. So I think that’s the perfect place to start our discussion.
He then gives an overview of his talk:
I want to speak first about the people we’ve become as American Catholics. Then I’ll turn to how and why we got where we are. Finally, I’ll suggest what we need to do about it, not merely as individuals, but more importantly as a Church. We need to recover our identity as a believing community. And I think a good way to begin doing that is with the “catechetical content” of our current political moment.
He speaks about the need to speak plainly and honestly, and how we live in an age that thrives on the subversion of language. Near the close of his talk he says:
A theologian in my own diocese recently listed “inclusivity” as one of the core messages of Vatican II. Yet, to my knowledge, that word “inclusivity” didn’t exist in the 1960s and appears nowhere in the Council documents.
If by “inclusive” we mean patiently and sensitively inviting all people to a relationship with Jesus Christ, then, yes, we do very much need to be inclusive. But if “inclusive” means including people who do not believe what the Catholic faith teaches and will not reform their lives according to what the Church holds to be true, then inclusion is a form of lying. And it’s not just lying, but an act of betrayal and violence against the rights of those who do believe and do seek to live according to God’s word. Inclusion requires conversion and a change of life; or at least the sincere desire to change.
Saying this isn’t a form of legalism or a lack of charity. It’s simple honesty. And there can be no real charity without honesty. We need to be very careful not to hypnotize ourselves with our words and dreams. The “New Evangelization” is fundamentally not so different from the “old evangelization.” It begins with personal witness and action and with sincere friendships among committed Catholics — not with bureaucratic programs or elegant-sounding plans. These latter things can be important. But they’re never the heart of the matter.
It is an excellent talk and you should read it in its' entirety.
Kathryn Lopez posting at National Review Online's "The Corner"
writes about the lack of good choices in the Presidential Election, noting:
The reality of the presidential election this fall is there are no good choices. That isn’t a new reality of the last 24 hours but has been the reality since Donald Trump became his party’s nominee.
Her most important point is farther down:
People have said to me increasingly in recent weeks: ”This is the most important election of our lifetimes.” I don’t agree – and I know about the Supreme Court and appointees and all the rest. I think the most important election happened already and we blew it. Eight years ago, certainly four years ago.
She closes well with:
We’re not going to get better politics without virtue. So I do hope the Republicans choose a better path that points to it in renewed ways right now. Especially if that’s been your calling card/platform/entry to power. (Recommended reading might include Psalm 127, as I note here.)
At First Things, George Weigel has a Columndiscussing the 2016 US Presidential Election. He begins discussing some historical (but not long ago) examples of people 'shooting from the lip' and the consequences that ensued.
He then proceeds to discuss Clinton and her "Deplorables" comment, and its' implications for the future if she is elected. He then goes 'equal-opportunity' and discusses Trump. He concludes his piece:
Charles Chaput, the archbishop of Philadelphia, delivered the 2016 Tocqueville Lectureat the University of Notre Dame, on 15 Sept 2016. It is an excellent talk and well worth reading in its' entirety.
Michael Strain writesat National Review about a Conference held at AEI "two weeks ago on the intersection of Roman Catholic thought and U.S. public policy and culture." He has links to video of several of the talks. I was most impressed by the talk by Donald Cardinal Wuerl. Near the end of his prepared remarks he spoke of an encounter he observed between the Mayor and a youngster at a gathering about at risk kids. The Mayor asked the 14 yr old: why do you find it so easy to be so violent? The kid responded: How come you get to draw the line? A telling telling point! Watch his entire talk. He speaks of this encounter at about 45 minutes into his talk. The entire 5 hour conference can be viewed in the video below, but the link above starts at Cardinal Wuerl's talk.