Fictional Tuesday: a Dialogue

"God did too good a job designing women," Jack said to his friend Jake.

"So you want to sue God for, uh, not malpractice but 'welpractice'?"

"Maybe. Or maybe not. But it's interesting that an attractive female induces an almost religious awe in men. Immediate dilation of pupils, sudden increased production of saliva, a lift or drop of head one might associate with awe or reverence."

"Or maybe just the loss of all brain function."

"Ha, very funny. But if there is that in nature, then there is a supernatural equivalent."

"Right, the theory being similar to the one that proposes mortal sin exists because gravity exists. God doesn't impinge on our free will to physically jump off buildings and kill ourselves, nor does he impinge on our free will to spiritually choose fatal sin."

"Yes, like that. There are hundreds of parallels between the visible and invisible world. Though why, at least in the drive for spiritual health rather than physical reproduction, is the visible equivalent so knee-jerk easier than the supernatural?"

"Au contraire. It doesn't have to be. Look at Fr. Solanus, who's up for sainthood. Spent his whole day praying. Constantly dilated pupils and increased saliva and awe of a different sort. Three a.m. and Fr. Groeschel caught him in spiritual ecstasy."

"How many Solanus's are there? It's not exactly hard-wired."

"Well maybe not as much as we'd prefer. Without Original Sin nothing makes much sense."

"Original sin seems to have affected the supernatural more than the natural."

"Oh I don't know. Death would seem a rather dramatic physical sign of Original Sin."

St. Dominic

Many posts at Tom of Disputations, including an excellent one on the death of St. Dominic as recorded by Blessed Jordan.

Searching for other St. Dominic tributes, the Catholic search engine rained down loads of hits. I especially liked this one.

August 8 - St. Ellidius, 7th century Welsh Saint

Hirnant   View from St. Illogan tower in Cornwall, England

Today is known primarily as the feast of St. Dominic of course, and rightly so, but it's also the memorial of St Ellidius, also called St. Illog, an obscure saint to be sure. Catholic Online calls him the "patron saint of Himant, Powys, Wales, and of a church in the Scilly Isles of England." Another site refers to him as: A Celtic saint originating, like the better known St Melangell, in Ireland. Only two other churches, in Cornwall and Brittany, are patronised by him. He has a holy well named after him which bubbles out of the hillside high above Hirnant. And from here: In ancient times it was customary to dedicate churches to saints with whom a church had in some way been associated. Illogan is a Celtic personal name found both in Cornwall and Brittany, and Illogan is the name of a Celtic saint known both in Montgomeryshire and Brittany.

"Boderlogan, a farm in Wendron, Cornwall, was spelt Bod-elugan in 1316, which means "the house of Illogan". A Saint Ilog is the patron saint of Hirnant in Powys, Wales, and the name occurs in several forms in that parish. When William of Worcester visited the Dominican Friary of Truro in 1378 he was told that the body of the saint was enshrined in Illogan Church, the original reference in Latin being Sanctus Illugham de Cornubia jacet prope Redruth, prope villam Truroburgh ."

Here is an art work from the time of St. Illog, a 7th century Welsh burial stone: (Enlarge) "The Bodvoc stone originally stood on one of a line of Bronze Age cairns on Margam Mountain. The inscription reads: 'BODVOCI HIC IACIT FILIVS CATOTIGIRNI PRONEPUS ETERNALI VEDOMAVI' ([The stone] of Bodvoc. Here he lies, son of Cattegern [or Cattegirn], and great-grandson of Eternalis Vedomavus). Eternalis was presumably a local ruler.'"

Quick Hits

Cool Jesus via Scipio...And a funny On Notice list from Mr. White. (Sounds like a potential punch line: "Polyester!")

As a Catholic from the Coal Regions of Pennsylvania, I'm disappointed that Mel's blood alcohol level was so low. I was hoping he'd spin the excuse that he had a flashback and thought the cop was out to get Danny Glover's family or something. - commenter on Amy's blog via Jeff

The notion that “now we know the true Mel Gibson” is the flip side of the modern religion of the self, where the dream of being true to “who you really are” tends to mean, in practice, being true to whatever desires or compulsions you happen to feel at any particular moment. This is great news for those whose desires—a new car, say, or perhaps a new spouse—happen to be considered commendable by the prevailing orthodoxies of the age. But it’s bad news for people like Gibson, whose compulsions are still counted as sinful—because if your compulsions are your “core” and “who you really are,” then how can you escape them? The good news, for Gibson, is that his own religion doesn’t approach things this way. - Ross Douthat

I believe in "Search and Rescue" by Patrick Madrid there is a line that goes something like this: You have to get used to the fact that it may not be YOU or YOUR WORDS and arguments that convert or bring back that loved one to the Faith. It seems to always to come down to prayer. And yet we want to do it ourselves, with our own words and writings. Sure God will use these-but often not for our intended purposes or audience. - Jim Curley of "Bethune Catholic"

It would be a mistake to think that St. John of the Cross [claims] as a scientific fact that cerebral memory resides in the soul. We are talking about real memory — how the soul knows itself, and that sort of thing. Obviously, the theology of the body view would be that neurological processes and the soul are intimately intertwined and were made to work together, but that ultimately the soul can remember when the body cannot (due to damage or death). Same thing with understanding and the will. Equally obviously, this is something that can be reasoned about but not scientifically tested. However, it’s true that “sin makes you stupid” because it clouds your understanding and narrows your view, and certainly the sins on your soul weaken your will and make it harder to resist further sin. The same narrowing is likely true of memory; we call things to mind based on our character, and attitudes of the moment; and we tend to forget what’s inconvenient to remember. --Maria Lectrix

Si Dios quisiera... Lectura de algunas páginas de Ana Catalina Emmerich: "¡Ah! ¡Qué hermosa, qué santa podría ser nuestra vida si Dios lo quisiera!" Una entrada del diario de León Bloy, 23/Feb/1901. La última frase es una de las varias suyas que se me han quedado prendidas en el alma (¡y hace tantos años!), como una de esas melodías pegadizas. Casi una jaculatoria. Bien veo que en cierto sentido es absurda —¡cómo Dios no va a quererlo!— pero... así es la cosa. - Hernan of "Esperando Nacer"

Could someone versed in the Mideast explain why the Christian leadership there seems to see its interest as lying in the defeat of Israel? How would Christians fare better were the Holy Land under the submission of Syria, Al Qaeda and a nuclear-armed Iran?...Problem is, looking to any Catholic or Melkite bishop in the area for an accurate reading of the situation vis a vis Israel seems like relying on the Cuban news media for information on Castro's current health. For some reason – politics; a concern for the preservation and safey of their followers; an inclination to appeasement; ingrained dhimmitude; outright anti-Semitism; or any combination thereof – the Christian hierarchy of the Mideast seems about as reliable as Reuters as a point of reference. - Mark of "Irish Elk"

There are few things that say “summer” to me the way the fair does. While there are subtle differences between, say, the county fair and the state fair, they both give me the youthful feeling of hope and time running out. They both make me recall the days when I could eat endless sno-cones and shredded chicken sandwiches on the five bucks my dad gave me when he dropped me off at the gate in the early morning cool...The fair is best remembered with funnel cakes in your nostrils and dust between your toes, sweat seeping down your back and weariness tugging at your eyes. The fair is days of intensity, summing up years of work, hours of effort. - Sarah of "Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering"

Sir Thomas More privately talked in his garden with his daughter Margaret, and amongst his other sayings, said: "Meg, I have borne a long time with thy husband; I have reasoned and argued with him in those points of religion, and still given to him my poor fatherly counsel; but I perceive none of all this able to call him home; and therefore, Meg, I will no longer argue nor dispute with him, but will clean give him over, and get me another while to God and pray for him." - Harpsfield, "The Life and Death of Sir Thomas More" via J. Curley

The Lord’s death, unlike that of other men, was not a debt paid for pleasure but rather a challenge thrown in the face of pleasure itself. --St. Maximus the Confessor

On the way home I was stopped at a traffic light where there was a woman claiming to be a homeless veteran holding up a sign asking for money....I must have been looking sheepish/guilty and/or tired/weary. (How's that--three word pairs in a row? To quote a one-time hero, "I meant to do that.") She said to me, "Honey, you got to smile--it just cain't be that bad." That did, in fact, make me smile. She continued collecting money, and I must have returned to whatever ruminations I was in because she was back and said. 'Come on, smile. What's that pink ball doing on your antenna?" (We have a pink Minnie Mouse/Cinderella's Castle ornament on the antenna--Linda's Idea--used to be stars and stripes Mickey.) And of course the silliness of the antenna bob made me smile again along with embarrassment at being offered encouragement by one who certainly had no reason to be encouraged, God love her.- Steven Riddle of "Flos Carmeli"

The essential key for the new evangelization-for practicing Catholics, as well as for slack and lapsed Catholics, and for non-Catholics-is the restoration of sacred music, especially Gregorian Chant, to sunday Mass - Francis Cardinal Arinze

Everything therefore in the modern means of social communication which arouses men's baser passions and encourages low moral standards, as well as every obscenity in the written word and every form of indecency on the stage and screen, should be condemned publicly and unanimously by all those who have at heart the advance of civilization and the safeguarding of the outstanding values of the human spirit. It is quite absurd to defend this kind of depravity in the name of art or culture or by pleading the liberty which may be allowed in this field by the public authorities. - Pope Paul VI, via Zippy

Chris is our resident pro-pacifist propagandist prone to parroting papal pronouncements to prop up his position. - Bill of "Apologia"

We take no position on Scripture or theology or morals. We are just Episcopalians. —Donna Bott, Episcopal Voices of Central Florida, via "Pontifications"

International Blogger's All-Star Team  !

Today Video Meliora..etc....sequor pays homage to a slew of talented bloggers who live beyond the shores of the good ole USA. You might call this the "Olympics of Blogging" though since I follow on a regular basis a very limited number of international blogs (despite the nomenaclature "Spanning the Globe") the results will be skewed. I am, after all, very provincial. So I welcome any comments concerning sins of commission or omission; it's possible that some of my regular reads are those I've assumed blog from "the States" when they in fact blog from elsewhere.

During the announcement of these all-stars, please furnish that country's national anthemn in your mind. Hold all applause until the end. Without further ado!

1st Base- Batting first and representing the Philippines is Enbrethiliel of Sancta Sanctis.

Enbrethiliel is a brainy blogger who combines a love of literature and Catholicism with a keen appreciation of pop culture. One of her greatest influences has been G.K. Chesterton, whom she refers to affectionately as "Uncle Gilbert". Her wacky and bodiless sidekick Antony leads her into many madcap adventures, including cajoling her, after many months, to add comments and an email address to her blog. She writes better English than 99.99% of native English writers.

Left Field- Representing Germany in left is Scipio of Credo ut Intelligam.

Scipio's existence belies the myth that the last orthodox Catholic in Germany was Herr Ratzinger, who'd left for Rome decades before. Scipio blogs auf Deutsch, meaning 'in German', and occasionally posts English song lyrics or quotes from American blogs, which are about the only posts I can read unaided by Babelfish. He also has an excellent sense of humor, thus refuting another myth.

Center Field- Representing Argentina in center is the great Hernan of Esperando Nacer.

Hernan began blogging way back in May of 2002, one of the earliest stars of the online world. It's difficult to think of a more intellectual blogger; he has an intense interest in the life and writings of Leon Bloy and Simone Weil. He makes me wish I knew Spanish.

2nd Base- Batting clean-up and representing Heaven is Flannery of If Flannery Had a Blog...

Flannery O'Connor was called up from the Church Militant to the Church Triumphant in 1965. Word is that she is extremely happy about the deal - to the point of saying something about "eye has not seen, nor ear heard" how good it is there. (And you thought donning the Yankee pinstripes was cool.)

Right Field- Representing The United States of America is Amy Welborn of Open Book.

Amy is obviously no stranger to any of us and has been blogging since 1989...no seriously, she is the blog mother of many of us and in the words of Mark Shea a "national treasure". I would second that remark and am proud to see her representing my country.

3rd Base- Representing Australia is Steve of Speculative Catholic.

As a fellow sufferer of a slow-loading webpage, I can sympathize with Steve's slow-loading old blog. But moving to blogspot has changed that though it seems he's now put the blog on hiatus. His recent denunciation of the term "paddy wagons" was appreciated by many of Irish extraction. *burp*, I'll drink to that!

Catcher- Representing Spain is Robert Duncan of the Pelican Press

Robert has a nose for news and comes to us from the city of Madrid. He previously blogged at Santificarnos. It is hot there in Madrid in August. Stifling. And while not at work he lacks air conditioning: "I think the only people in Madrid in August are either idiots, tourists - or people too broke to go anywhere to escape the heat...I find myself being so lethargic that I can't be bothered to change the television from Cartoon Network. I've got to get up the energy and press that button ..." Now that's hot. I'll never complain about the Midwest.

Shortstop- Representing South Korea is Josue Snyder of The Western Confucian.

Josue's blog may well be the only place to find pictures of Miss Korea next to a post speculating on the sainthood of Flannery O'Connor. While I seldom see eye-to-eye with this blogger (who is always sharply critical of the U.S.), politics ain't everything.

Pitcher - Representing Canada and pitching, Kathy Shaidle of Relapsed Catholic.

Kathy is an extremely talented right-hander and not afraid of the brush-back pitch. She is moving up the chart as one of the world's most popular blogging talents, and features a razor sharp wit that has been banned in eight countries.

Coach- Albertus Mimimus. For more international players, see his excellent sidebar list which segregates blogger by country.

It's Goin' Around

Annoyances:



via Amy. Just jokin' about ol' Rodgers.

The Times They Are a' Changin'

I can recall an age when there were no post-mortem surveys after business meetings. We walked ten miles through the snow to get to them and we liked them, or at least reassured ourselves that it would "put hair on our chest" (well, the men anyway). But given how everything is measured now I suppose it was inevitable even meetings would be monitored for effectiveness. (Since when were meetings effective? I must've missed that announcement.)

Here's my actual survey. It was sent to a "regular person" so don't worry, the "suits" won't see the smart-aleck answer to question 4:

1. What did you think about the first XYZ meeting for 2006?

It thought it was surprisingly good.

2. What did you like best about the meeting?

John's presentation and honest manner of speaking.

3. What information would you like to see included in future meetings?

Can’t think of anything in particular.

4. Which individuals would you most like to hear from in future meetings?

I suppose if the field is unlimited I would say the President of the U.S. and/or the Pope.

5. What suggestions do you have to improve future meetings?

Eliminate presentations that are deadly boring, like the one that included charts and houses and pictures. No offense meant personally to the giver of that presentation because she was working with extremely dry subject material.

Beating a Dead Horse But...

Everything that could be said has been said already about Monsieur Gibson's troubles, but I'm a bit skeptical of the in vino veritatis line ("in wine, truth"). Wine depresses reason, and anti-semitism is unreasonable. Given the anti-semitism of his father one would expect that when a relaxant like alcohol is imbibed one might fall back into old patterns and ways of thinking. For someone with Gibson's background, it takes reason to overcome the old patterns of thinking, and alcohol, like sleep, undermines reason.

Kathy Shaidle said recently - concerning conspiracy theorists in general and "Bush-Orchestrated-9/11" believers in particular - that alcohol and depression tend to act as accelerants for those prone to conspiracy theories. Gibson's anti-semitism is a conspiracy theory.

Dog 'n Butterfly

See the dog and butterfly
Up in the air, he liked to fly
The dog and butterfly, below she had to try...

Those '70s Hymns

I never thought I'd enjoy Neuhaus's Catholic Matters this much. I thought reading it would be an exercise in deja vu, old ground revisted. And yet it's a really fine read due in great part to his writing ability.

Neuhaus tells of a banner in one church that said "God is Other People" and how one theologian told him there should be a comma between "other" and "people". Funny and true. While the banner seems to promote pantheism, perhaps some of the '70s emphasis on our relations to other people was understandable given that the two great Commandments are love God and love others and it's easier to love a Perfect Being than imperfect beings. (Though Christ did say the one was like the other, suggesting there isn't much of a gulf and they can't be separated.)

Neuhaus mocks the hymns of the 70s, and rightly so. Kumbaya My Lord and James Taylor songs are not exactly rich in emphasizing the truths of the Faith. Many of the songs were also, musically-speaking, abysmal by artistic standards. But were they really so theologically suspect? Neuhaus refers to them as celebrations of self, songs where we pat ourselves on the back and reflect on our goodness. I never had that experience. I saw them more as challenges.

I went through the songs of my (mis)spent liturgical youth and tested them not for cloyness but the soundness of the lyrics. One that Neuhaus might consider a "patting ourselves on the back" song is They'll Know We Are Christians By Our Love but I beg to differ. I thought it a haunting, challenging song because I wondered if I could be identified as a Christian by my love. I suspected not and I can't be the only one to have thought that song was less an exercise in self-congratulation than an exercise in "you'd better love because this it's supposed to be". Perhaps this song leads to Pelagian impulses by attempting to get to the end (our sanctification) by ignoring the means (Christ), though God has done his part with gifts of grace for the baptized Christian so if there's a gulf between our behavior and the gospel standard one can say it's not for a want of grace.

Certainly the old "To be alive / and feelin' free / and to have everyone in my family / to be alive"... is hard to defend given the generally content-free lyrics. But there were also songs like, "All that I am / all that I do / all that I ever have / I offer now to you. Take and sanctify these gifts / for your honor Lord. Knowing that I love and serve You / is enough reward..."

This seems relatively harmless to me. "Knowing that I love and serve you" could be seen as self-congratulatory but again I don't know how you could take it thus if you have any idea what God asks of us (i.e. death to self). It emphasizes what our true goal should be and how what is important is God's opinion, not man's.

Another song: "Take our bread, we ask you take our hearts, we love you take our lives, O Father we are yours, we are yours. Your holy people standing washed in your blood. Spirit-filled yet hungry we await your food / We are poor but we've brought ourselves the best we could / we are yours / we are yours."

This song is one of the more anti-Pelagian of the '70s songs. It recognizes our dependence on God and our own poverty. It refers to us being holy but only because we were washed in His Blood.

And another: "Sons of God, Hear his holy word / Gather round / the table of the Lord / Eat his body / drink his blood / and we'll sing a song of love / Allelu-Allelu-Allelu-Alleluia. Brothers, sisters, we are one / and our lives have just begun / in the Spirit we are one / we can live forever."

I see this as innocuous and theologically sound. Of course now it's terribly dated by the word sons. That song must've had a short shelf life given the eventual liturgical distaste for anything male!
___

Update: Terrence Berres writes: "At the ceremony in the participatory improv period piece Tony n' Tina's Wedding a nun hands out a mimeographed "Sons of God" and starts it with her pitch pipe." Isn't there something inherently funny about the line "[she] starts it with her pitch pipe"?

A Fictional Foray Into Book-Tasting

...with much borrowing from Wines Northwest's Tasting Notes Digest...

I recall attending a book-tasting in 1970 at the Ohio Bibliothetique and experiencing the bouquet of an 1887 Dickens, Great Expectations I believe, before sampling the rich flavor of an ’06 Kipling. The words had been strained in oak barrels for over twenty years and thus carried with them a strong hint of that flavor.

Path to Rome is another handcrafted book, a labor of love for author Hilaire Belloc and it shows. Rich aromas of cherry and plum mingle with toasty oak. The palate is firm but flavorful with black fruits, spice and nuances of barrel toast. The finish is long and fruity with ample tannins to pair with hearty prose and rich doctrines. Aromas of herbs mingle with enticing cherry and berry notes as these tempting pages open up in a cloth binding. The palate is cherry and black fruits and is well structured with toasty oak playing a background role.

Of Percy’s The Moviegoer? The spine is spicy black cherry with floral nuances and lingering hints of lavender and earth. The palate is delicate, with ample acidity with silky tannins yielding an expressive finish. On breathing, the book reveals interesting and complex aromas that one might associate with an aged vintage Tolstoy or a fine Greene. A good contemplative sipper with mild-to medium-flavored cheeses...

________________

And a dash of what I see before me:

A Stack of Aromatics

Books meld in pleasing colors,
the pirate yellow of Clemente,
the gold & scarlet flourish of Catholic Matters,
the earth tones of Earthly Powers
the green and burnt sienna of Dandelion Wine.

Various &/or Sundry

Registration of classes, Freshman year. Ah but it clings. It’s one of those rare engraved, not penciled in, memories. I image it a foretaste of Heaven as it mimics the graduation from one state of life (high school) to a far more advanced - at least in my anticipation - (college). Which reminds me of the iconic poster of John Belushi from Animal House that shows him wearing a shirt that says, in a minimalism that speaks volumes, “College”. For the high-schooler on the cusp of college, the next life was when everyone suddenly became better, holier in a way. It wasn’t about dominating others through status but a collaboration of the elect.
___

I recall always washing my car while listening to longtime Reds announcer and HOF’er Marty Brennaman calling the game. Washing the car itself was punitive and listening to the game itself boring, but putting them together resulted in a sort of productive bliss.
___

They say at the end of your life you’ll never regret the hours you didn’t spend at the office, but that seems to presume a lack of Purgatory. If many Americans work too hard, couldn't many, including myself, work harder? At other times my regrets fall along the lines of “am I drinking enough beer?”. (Allow me, as R. Ricardo once said, to “’splain myself’.) Readers of William F. Buckley’s plasterings of sea, as I have, cannot help but feel a tinge of envy at those hours. One might also consider the great quantities of alcohol one’s father/grandfather/ancestors drank and feel a kind of inadequacy. They worked harder, no doubt, and drank more. I’m not sure to what extent those facts are related but there is a rough justice in it. Still, it is an absurdity for the average blogger to be spending time attempting to solve or come to an opinion with regards to the Middle East crisis. That is a madness. Better to be drinking or praying.
___

Tis the Irishfest and I’m loathe to give up the awe that twas once found in a jig or reel and so we go --- but afterward classical music acts as a kind of tonic. What is this need for complexity? Have I so soon “outgrown” the simple? Have I lost the winsome “otherness” of celtic music and now seek, ala Dreher, a novel otherness? I must admit to feeling solidarity with Nuala O’Faolain’s mother, who spent all of her time ‘drinking & reading’. I do surprisingly little of either, given my druthers, but then I suppose there’s a reason Walter Kerr wrote a book called, “The Decline of Pleasure”...

Nail, Hammer, Head

Terrence Berres via email:

(Of course, I think everyone who isn't Catholic is a frustrated Catholic.)

And everyone who is Catholic, as well?

True on so many levels...

Bleak House Excerpt

Mr. Skimpole strikes again:

He had been enriching his medical attendant in the most lavish manner. He had always doubled, and sometimes quadrupled, his fees. He had said to the doctor, “Now, my dear doctor, it is quite a delusion on your part to suppose that you attend me for nothing. I am overwhelming you with money — in my expansive intentions — if you only knew it!” And really (he said) he meant it to that degree, that he thought it much the same as doing it. If he had had those bits of metal or thin paper to which mankind attached so much importance, to put in the doctor’s hand, he would have put them in the doctor’s hand. Not having them, he substituted the will for the deed. Very well! If he really meant it — if his will were genuine and real: which it was — it appeared to him that it was the same as coin, and cancelled the obligation.

“It may be, partly, because I know nothing of the value of money,” said Mr Skimpole, “but I often feel this. It seems so reasonable! My butcher says to me, he wants that little bill. It’s a part of the pleasant unconscious poetry of the man’s nature, that he always calls it a ‘little’ bill — to make the payment appear easy to both of us. I reply to the butcher, ‘My good friend, if you knew it you are paid. You haven’t had the trouble of coming to ask for the little bill. You are paid. I mean it.’”

“But, suppose,” said my Guardian, laughing, “he had meant the meat in the bill, instead of providing it?”

“My dear Jarndyce,” he returned, “you surprise me. You take the butcher’s position. A butcher I once dealt with, occupied that very ground. Says he, ‘sir, why did you eat spring lamb at eighteen-pence a pound?’ ‘Why did I eat spring lamb at eighteen-pence a pound, my honest friend?’ said I, naturally amazed by the question. ‘I like spring lamb!’ This was so far convincing. ‘Well, sir,’ says he, ‘I wish I had meant the lamb as you mean the money!’ ‘My good fellow,’ said I, ‘pray let us reason like intellectual beings. How could that be? It was impossible. You had got the lamb, and I have not got the money. You couldn’t really mean the lamb without sending it in, whereas I can, and do, really mean the money without paying it!’ He had not a word. There was an end of the subject.”

“Did he take no legal proceedings?” inquired my Guardian.

“Yes, he took legal proceedings,” said Mr Skimpole. “But in that, he was influenced by passion; not by reason...