Witness to the Faith or Silence in the Public Square

In a recent post I commented on a movie, A Quiet Place, discussing its' relationship to our culture.  I was reminded then and posted that:

My dad taught me to never make the sign of the cross at public gatherings.  

I gave up that practice several years ago.  Having read some talks and homilies by several people, including Charles Chaput, the archbishop of Philadelphia,  I began praying before meals in restaurants, making the sign of the cross, even as I did at home.

Chaput writes at First Things:

So let’s start with a simple fact: Catholics have never entirely “fit” in America. We’ve tried, but the results are mixed. In fact some years ago Stanley Hauerwas, the distinguished Protestant theologian, said that we Catholics not only don’t fit in America, we also know we don’t fit. And because we know, we’re doubly eager to prove that we’re more American than anybody else.

and:

I think we need to think and act in the same way Augustine did. Our task as believers, whatever our religious tradition, is to witness our love for God and for each other in the time and place God puts us. That means we have duties—first to the City of God, but also to the City of Man. It means working with all our energy to make our nation whole and good, even as we keep our expectations modest, and even when we experience criticism and failure. And finally, it means realizing that none of us can do this work alone.

It now seems as though whether I am with family at someone's home or in some restaurant, I am the only one there who makes the sign of the cross, and the only one who prays before meals.

This is not the case when I am with people from my parish, and I am very grateful for that.

This is the distinction between being a witness in the society and blending in with the society.

George Weigel and Roe v Wade Derangement Syndrome

In a recent post, I drew a comparison between the movies A Quiet Place and World War Z, and our current culture.  This led to pointing out that normal everyday speech can be labeled hate speech.

George Weigel writes at First Things about what he calls Roe v Wade Derangement Syndrome.

He begins by recalling a NY Times column by Barbara Ehrenreich from 1985, and her unique and callous view regarding abortion.  He then proceeds to discuss Ruth Marcus's recent op-ed in the Washington Post discussing the Down syndrome baby and abortion.

He then identifies Roe-v-Wade Derangement Syndrome:

“Not the child I wanted.” There, in a single phrase, is the moral dereliction at the center of Roe v. Wade Derangement Syndrome: If a pregnancy is inconvenient for career purposes, or the child to be born seems unlikely to tick all the boxes of one’s expectations, one makes the choice—“tragic,” as Ms. Marcus admits, or No Big Deal, on the Ehrenreich scale of values—to destroy the indisputably human life one has procreated. 

Weigel closes by discussing a recent Democrat primary election in Illinois, where pro-abortion and NARALPro-Choice America endorsed Maria Newman, said of her opponent Dan Lipinski:

I know what’s in his heart, and it’s called hate. This guy is dangerous. His views are dangerous.

Then Weigel correctly points out:

That is what Roe v. Wade Derangement Syndrome has done to our politics: It’s made it possible to say that what’s in the heart of a mild-mannered gentleman like Dan Lipinski is “hate”—and get away with it. The defense of the indefensible leads to rage, and rage becomes a form of madness.

You should read his article.

A Quiet Place for me

In a recent post  I commented and pointed to three articles about the movie "A Quiet Place" (Bishop Barron, White, and  Scalia).

Since then I have seen the movie, and want to write a few paragraphs about it in light of these other writers.

Bishop Barron, in addition to his previously linked article has a podcast discussing the movie (it runs about 1/2 hr).

White says of a Quiet Place:

there’s an Internet meme positing that the unexceptional horror movie might just be significant

Bishop Barron refers to it as:

 John Krasinski’s new thriller

And Scalia echoes the view of Barron, that the movie is a thriller and not a horror film.  I go with Scalia and Barron on this, and oppose White's take that it is a horror film.

Scalia sees in Barron's write up an allegory involving the silencing of speech.

White writes:

This is especially sad in the case of A Quiet Place, which merely updates the crude manipulation of The Blair Witch Project and never asks audiences to consider the narrative’s themes of procreation and self-defense.

This film has much more in common with World War Z, I am Legend and Warm Bodies, than it has with The Blair Witch Project.

It is a movie about a family living in horrifying and dire times.

Scalia begins with Zuckerberg's testimony about suppressing wrong and unapproved speech (or more accurately, suppressing written words) before it is published.  She then writes:

Preventing hateful speech before it is uttered (or published) creates an illusion of comity—we don’t see the hate anymore, so it must not exist! It still does, though, and—as with our hidden sun—each time it comes out of hiding, the hatred will seem that much more vivid and febrile.

But more importantly than the hate remaining and being very real is the very real possibility that normal speech will be classified as hate speech.

Before the USA passed the hate-crimes legislation, a Catholic Priest in Canada was arrested and charged with hate speech for reading aloud from the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  That should have been a warning to the USA of the dangerous path it was going down, but that warning went unheeded.

The movie, A Quiet Place, shows a family who remains alive, loving and growing in the presence of terrible forces by keeping silent.

This is similar to some descriptions of the Church in times past in this country where Catholics strove to blend in, to be accepted.

My dad taught me to never make the sign of the cross at public gatherings.  I'm pretty sure he learned this while in the army during WWII.  But in our home, and in other family homes we always made the sign of the cross whenever we prayed.

Silence in the face of terrible forces is also the motif in WorldWarZ,  where after only a few seconds following being bitten by a zombie, a person becomes another zombie and starts a crazed assault on healthy non-zombies.

This is very similar to the gay marriage conversion observed all over the western world in the last decade or so.  It is exemplified by the exchange between Sen Booker of NJ and Mike Pompeo at his confirmation hearing for Secretary of State.

Sen Booker is the zombie in a crazed assault on a healthy man trying to get him, and label his speech and attitude as one of hate.  This is what Zuckerberg was talking of suppressing through AI.

The dire and terrible times are upon us.

A Quiet Place is a very good movie and you should see it.

A Quiet Place -- a few posts

Bishop Robert Barron writes at WordOnFire about the movie "A Quiet Place."

I don’t know if I can find the golden thread that draws all of these themes together into a coherent message, but I think one would have to be blind not to see a number of religious motifs in this absorbing film.

In juxtaposition to this, Armond White writes at NRO contrasting "A Quiet Place" with "Jeannette: The Childhood of Joan of Arc."  White much prefers Jeannette, writing of it:

The story of France’s patron saint who was martyred during the Hundred Years’ War is told through the joyful noise of a heavy-metal musical.

He writes of it further:

So when Bunch caught on to A Quiet Place’s nuclear-family theme, he made a considerable point

and

A Quiet Place, which merely updates the crude manipulation of The Blair Witch Project and never asks audiences to consider the narrative’s themes of procreation and self-defense.

Finally, Elizabeth Scalia writes, also at WordOnFire, about A Quiet Place and relates it to the Zuckerberg comments on extinguishing so called Hate Speech.

Stopping difficult, controversial, or “hateful” words before they are uttered or published will ultimately destroy authentic engagement between people. It may leave our feelings unhurt, but the price of insult-free living will be more loneliness, more isolation, not less. 

Then she wraps up by tying into Bishop Barron's article on A Quiet Place

Bishop Robert Barron recently wrote about actor-director John Krasinski’s new thriller, A Quiet Place, calling it the most “unexpectedly religious film of 2018.” He sees numerous religious motifs running through the film, and I suspect he is on the money.

But to me, the story as described sounds a lot like an allegory for a time when all speakers—for that matter, all artists and writers—are expected to exist uncomplainingly within a narrow lane of social conformity, or risk being eaten alive.

Perhaps instead of obsessing about suppressing so called bullying, and Hate Speech, we should teach our children, or in my case should have taught our children, what my parents taught my sisters, my brother and me:

Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names can never hurt me

I Hope you enjoy reading these articles.

Easter: Eight Days a week

When I was young, the Beetles had a popular song entitled Eight Days a Week.  Here's a video of it.

It so happens that the Church celebrates Easter for Eight Days in a row, 8 days a week.  She calls it an Octave.  The Readings from Mass on Next Saturday,  7 April 2018 have a heading which reads:
Saturday in the Octave of Easter.
The Gospel readings for Mass during this week  are full of readings involving Easter Day.  

Monday:

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed, and ran to announce the news to his disciples.

Tuesday:

Mary Magdalene stayed outside the tomb weeping.  And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the Body of Jesus had been.

Wednesday:

That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus' disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred.

Thursday

The disciples of Jesus recounted what had taken place along the way, and how they had come to recognize him in the breaking of bread.

While they were still speaking about this, he stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you."

Friday:

Jesus revealed himself again to his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias.  He revealed himself in this way.  Together were Simon Peter, Thomas called Didymus, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, Zebedee’s sons, and two others of his disciples.

Friday's does not so much deal with Easter Day, but as another post resurrection appearance of Jesus.

Saturday:

When Jesus had risen, early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons.  She went and told his companions who were mourning and weeping.

Sunday:
(The eighth day of Easter)

On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you."

8 Days a week, I love you.
8 Days a week are not enough to show I care.

Jesus cares for us so very much.  Peter tells us:
Cast all your cares on him, because he cares for you.

Parkland, Gun Control, and fearing the reaper

For about 6 weeks now, there has been unrelenting advocacy for gun control in the main stream media news organizations, following the school shooting in Florida.

Massive news coverage of teenagers saying they are tired of being afraid of gun violence at schools.

In response, I am reminded of a song from many years ago entitled "Don't Fear the Reaper."

It doesn't say what I intend, but the title is appropriate.

The reaper, obviously, is the grim reaper -- death.  Of which these kids are so tired of being afraid.  

This is the shroud that clouds all of mankind - death and the fear of death.  But I've noted elsewhere, nobody gets out alive.  We are all going to die, and you can't live your life consumed with fear that "today may be the day."

My dad always told me you can't let fear control your actions.  It is OK to be afraid, but don't let fear keep you from doing what's right.

St Paul tells us that whether we live or die, we are the Lord's.

The greatest good is to be with Jesus, who died and rose from the dead.  Which is what Holy Week and Easter are all about:  Jesus' passion, death and resurrection.  Those who die in Christ will rise with him to eternal life.

Now St John Paul II, throughout his pontificate, encouraged us always to "be not afraid."  Don't be afraid to let Jesus into your life.  Don't be afraid to follow Jesus in your vocation.  Do not be afraid.

This is not just wishful thinking: just hoping that faith in Jesus will make a difference, or hoping that it will give us consolation.  Faith in Jesus does console us in the face of death, and faith in Jesus gives us hope.  But it does so because it is true.

Jesus, the living bread come down from heaven, the way, the truth and the life, the fullness of God's revelation of himself, and who reveals the fullness of man to man, tells us that it is his desire that we should be with him (where I am, they may also be).  

He endures his passion and death so that we might be with him always.  

In Christ, we live and move and have our being.  Through Baptism we entered into the mystical body of Christ, as through a door.  Where he has gone we hope to follow.  Whether we live or die, we are the Lord's.

So let us not be afraid of death, or gunmen at school.  Christ is with us, and desires that we should be with him in this life and in the life to come.

May this Pascal time draw us ever closer to him.

more while reading "Strangers"

As I mentioned in a previous post, I am reading "Strangers in a Strange Land," by Charles Chaput.  In Chapter 5, Love Among the Eloi, he writes:

Contraceptive intimacy, in contrast, is finally not "intimacy" at all.  It makes every sexual contact a disconnected point in time and an event without a future -- two people using each other as instruments for their own relief.

This strikes me as being extremely similar to a song from 1976 by Bob Seger:  Night Moves.

The lyrics include:

                 I used her, she used me 
                 and neither one cared,
                 we were getting our share 
                 practicing our night moves.

A song that encapsulates a generation's sad attempt at living in this immoral age.

We are called to so much more than "working on our night moves."  We are called to the fullness of joy.  Not a night of passion, a weekend tryst, a short lived coupling of cohabitation.  

No, we are called to an eternity of intimacy with the source of our existence.  A union we do not deserve, and without which we will remain utterly unhappy, and unsatisfied.

If we seek our fulfillment in this world we cannot be satisfied, because God has made us for himself, as St. Augustine tells us.

Let us not work on our "night moves," but on our relationship with the One who loves us more than we love ourselves.

Marana Tha.  Oh Lord, come!