Video Meliora, proboque; Deteriora sequor

The reason that I get up daily to read the Bible at 4 AM is that both world and self seem less relevant, and are less insistent on my attention, at that hour. The words of scripture then speak to that part of me that is able to resonate sympathetically, through less static, with more clarity. Hopefully, every day, a tiny bit, through God's grace, I am changed.

- commenter Rob on Disputations

The sexual abuse issue is a whole other matter, but with regards to the abusive treatment of orphans, unwed mothers, and the native people, I think this was influenced by the eugenics movement. It was common for people in the early/mid 20th century to attribute what they saw as social and moral weakness to genetics. Many of these religious had themselves overcome poor backgrounds, and believed that mortifications were necessary to develop sufficiently spiritually to overcome one's biological destiny. Now, we all know that some of them got a little too into it, but I do believe that their motives were good, just flawed. It's not fair to attack or punish them for being simple people of their times. Many a belt and a paddle was used in families of that era, as well. It's just the way things were. They would "beat the devil outta ya!" We, too, are products of our own era. Just look around. The results are not impressive. If we ever get around to following what Vatican II recommended, we might then be able to blame the Council for our woes. Until then, it's about planks in our eyes vs. splinters in theirs.

- Regina f. on Amy's blog, with regard to past abuses and why the "good old days" often weren't

You can neither know what chastity is nor observe chastity unless you first know poverty and have observed poverty. And you can neither know what is obedience and practice obedience unless you know and have practiced chastity. Now, do you see why the biggest problem of the Church today is lack of Chastity and lack of obedience? Because there is no spirit of Poverty.

- blogger at "gloria olivae"

As I continued to take the little pill daily for another three years, it became harder and harder to swallow. I grew uneasy with the minuscule chance—be it one in a million of millions—that my womb might turn away a cluster of 128 or 256 cells knitted together in the image of God. This sense of discomfort never evolved into an absolute dogma: I still wouldn't say that taking contraceptives is a sin. But I questioned the assumptions I found underneath my pill popping. What did my daily habit say about my faith in the One who reduced himself first to a cell, then two, then 128, then 256 and more, then to a defenseless baby—and whose door is always open for helpless intruders like me? Could the little pill have stood for more than just a chance to get a fiscally responsible life before opening it up to stinky diapers? Could Mircette have changed not just the hormonal makeup of my cells, but also what cannot be seen under a microscope? Could it have served as one more safety lock on the door not just to my womb, but also to my figure, my marriage, my home, my career, my gym routine? God is in these details.

- Agnieszka Tennant via Amy's blog

Someone has said of [the poet Ted] Hughes: "I just find him a bit . . . ach, it's difficult to quantify but the best word I can think of is 'macho.'" Hughes was macho. And he felt at home in Spain. How very, very interesting... Of Coolidge and Alcott, however, we can repeat what Hughes observed of Plath: "[Their] schooling had somehow neglected Spain," and if they had seen it at all, they probably would have "Clutched back towards college America" in panic, too. Women writers vastly prefer France, Switzerland, Germany, Austria, and even Italy. Yet literary men seem to love Spain. Ted Hughes says he felt at home there. Colm Toibin spent Holy Week in Seville and then took part in the walking pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. Ernest Hemmingway tried to learn the art of bullfighting. George Orwell fought in the Spanish Civil War and Grahame Greene, who covered it for an English newspaper, later wrote an English novel about it. What is the deal?

- Sancta Sanctis (forgive me, but I'm tired of trying to spell Enbrethilell, Christina!)

It is cheeky, dare we say edgy, but friends...that is Roman Catholicism. This is a faith in which spiritual practices include, not just cool, relaxed silent prayer sitting on you floor cushion with your lovely garden in view and your herbal tea brewing, but also the extremes: jamming crowns of thorns on your head, physically consuming relics, putting the head of a holy woman on display, and levitating. We define edgy. We live right on the thin edge of good taste. The Bad Catholic's Guide to Good Living expresses that holistic and mostly healthy Catholicity, where, as the authors say, the worst things in life are recycled and turned into the best. It's heartfelt, satirical, and, we can't neglect to say, accurate in its presentation of the faith. It's part of this body of Catholic literature that's growing, I'm happy to say, which books like Lickona's Swimming with Scapulars, Judge's God and Man at Georgetown Prep, Scott's Catholic Passion also represent: books that get this one important thing about Catholicism: It's all about connections. It's all about looking at God's earth and the creatures he's made, and the stuff he's inspired those creatures to make, and seeing the possibility and promise of God at work in all of it. No divisions, no dualism, just a faith that's holistic, joyous but honest and bracing in the face of suffering.

- Amy Welborn, on the book "The Bad Catholic's Guide to Good Living", which, among other things, suggests celebrating Reformation Sunday by selling indulgences and (via Curt Jester) 'if Jesus was Jewish, why does he have a Puerto Rican name?'. (Ed. note: no payments changed hands for this plug.)

I’ve been reading Luke Timothy Johnson’s commentary on Romans and he argues that for Paul sin is not necesarily about being a “bad person,” but is about our fundamental attitude toward God. In other words, the opposite of sin isn’t virtue but faith - i.e. trusting in God, recognizing our dependence on God, accepting our lives as a gift, etc. Not trusting in God leads to trying to secure our own existence and worth ourselves, which leads to all kinds of vices (”sins” plural - cf. Romans 1).

- commenter on Camassia's blog

[insert clever description here]

- Robert of HokiePundit, allowing the reader to mentally complete his blog template

It ain't that, Jeff. It's age...You can try the Holy Father's cure, but, if that doesn't work, try mine: drink lots of German beer, British ale, and the occasional Guiness. They help me forget that I have a bad memory.

- Bill Luse, on Jeff Culbreath's concern that electronic communcations are hurting his memory

The phrase “all of us are fundamentally good”, like “children are born innocent”, is one of those lines whose Christian validity depends on how far you take it. To the extent that everyone is a child of God, it’s true. But what to make of those “aberrant” bad people? Where does their evil come from? To what extent do “good” people share a responsibility for it?...It seems to me that one reason this subject is so difficult is that it involves a rather delicate balancing act. On the one hand, overemphasizing the goodness of people can fail to deal effectively with their badness. On the other hand, overemphasizing people’s depravity can make loving your neighbor nearly impossible. Justification by faith alone can turn salvation into an arbitrary business, detached from moral behavior; justification by works alone sets people with the unbearable task of saving themselves. I think that the “good, but fallen” definition of humanity is an attempt to carve out the middle space.

- Camassia