Born to Soar

There is a common tendency to divide humanity into great sinners, great saints, and “normal people.” We tend to think that a merciful God glorifies the great, damns the evil, and reflexively saves the average Joe.

There is a strong part of me that wants to believe that this is the case. After all, God is infinitely merciful.

But I can’t quite shake a nagging feeling that there is more required of us that what we deem to be the bare minimum for salvation. And an even stronger part of me warns that I would not choose the path to joy if it were presented me now, preferring my own weak will to eternal joy.

For as I have stated more fully in a previous post, God loves us deeply. He loves us not with the senile affection of a grandparent, but with the burning fire of a lover. And He demands that burning love of us in return.

A life of comfort is a dreadful temptation to mediocrity and indolence. C.S. Lewis, in the Screwtape Letters, warns us that the comfortable path is dangerous for salvation: "The safest road to Hell is the gradual one - the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts."
Yes, this comes from a fictional devil, and thus comes with a grain of salt. But Christ himself indicated the same in the Gospels when he warned: "Enter ye in at the narrow gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there are who go in thereat." (Matthew 7:13)
We were made in the image and likeness of God. We are given by God incredible graces in the seven sacraments, a book to teach us our heritage, an incredible longing to enjoy a presence which we see faint echoes of on earth, and a Church to help us love Him better .
We were born to soar, to become living flames of virtue, sons and daughters of God.
And yet I can say for myself that I consistently choose the path of mediocrity - Masses barely concentrated    on, prayers hastily whispered, duties grudgingly performed. Would I really want to spend an eternity in the unbearably powerful presence of my Master after a lifetime of half-given service?
Perhaps. Yes, I might be saved, in spite of myself. Yes, I may choose the path of paradise on my deathbed. Yes, I may have a tepid, latent desire for Christ that Purgatory will blow into flame.
But as of this moment, I can't say for sure whether this is the case, and it scares me greatly. 
Are we sure that a merciful God will save us in spite of ourselves, when we may not wish to bear His love in return? I would never and could never claim knowledge of who chooses salvation or damnation - but I do know that humans tend to miss the marks they aim for, and that shooting for mere mediocrity may result in much worse. 

The Blessings of Friendship

Loners love seclusion and take refuge in the labyrinths of intellectual argument, shunning the company of crowds like plague. But even the most reclusive of loners (with rare exceptions, like hermits) needs friends to give him comfort in times of stress and pain.
Often, those of us who seek solitude forget how badly we do need others, and shun our fellow men at our own peril. For good friends are incredible sources of joy and strength and conducive to the Christian life. Christian friends confirm us in our Faith; give us different perspectives; encourage us in virtue; and impel us outside ourselves to meet and serve others.
Friendships also serve as an echo of our relationship with God. We were born to be in communion with God, to serve Him in trial on earth that we might serve Him in joy in Heaven. Our time on earth spent with others is a precursor to that eternal communion; our friendships on earth serve as imperfect shadows of the eternal friendship with the Master.

But friendship is awesome in its own right. In Heaven our friendships with others will only grow in intensity. How great they will be, then, when even on earth they are so joyful and salutary!

God has placed many good friends into my life. I will never know how much they have given me. But I do thank God every day for them; they have shaped me for the better.

The Official Awesomeness Rankings of All 50 States

I have composed a highly subjective list of the respective awesomeness of all 50 states, based entirely on my own experiences and preconceptions. (Note: The District of Columbia is not included; if it did, it would be near the bottom of this list.) If you don’t like the list, or feel your state has been shortchanged, feel free to make your own. Or look at my disclaimer at the bottom.

Special thanks to those who helped me compile the list. And now, without further ado...

  1)   Virginia – In the spirit of narcissism, I would like to boast that this is my adopted home, and one which I will never leave, God willing. Temperate weather, history galore, my alma mater, good friends – Virginia is the pinnacle of American statehood.

  2)   Texas – Suffice it to say I never met a Texan I didn’t like – even if they are absurdly supportive of their homeland. Arrogant, but awesome area of the country. The state even has a WILSON COUNTY!

  3)   Colorado – Two words: Denver Broncos. Also, it is a very pretty, mountainous, rectangular state, and part of my family still lives out there.

  4)   Montana – Glacier National Park is beautiful – as is the rest of the state. Lovely area of the country.

  5)   Wyoming – I like rectangles (see #3). Plus, Yellowstone and Grand Teton are incredible.

  6)   Florida – Our family vacationed down here during the summer months – very hot. (We grew saner when we got older.) I have many pleasant memories of this place. 

  7)   North Carolina – There is a Wilson County here – BONUS AWESOMENESS! Also, this state has a cool nickname (Tar Heels), and serves to protect Virginia against South Carolina’s insufferable arrogance.

  8)   Georgia – Like North Carolina, Georgia also serves to protect the rest of the states from South Carolina’s arrogance. Plus, practically unenforced high speed limits and comparatively inexpensive gasoline are cool.

  9)   Michigan – My sister graces the state with her presence – which overcomes the disadvantage of the cold. Plus, for some bizarre reason I like the split in the state between Upper Michigan and Lower Michigan.

  10)   New Mexico – Carlsbad Caverns is still my favorite National Park. Beautiful area of the country.

  11)   Arizona – They really need to name it Aridzona – it is HOT! It got up to 110 in a dry heat when we were visiting a mission Church there. Aside from that, the Grand Canyon rocks. Pretty country = good rankings.

  12)   Kansas – Kansas has many nice people (and one insane exile, but I digress…) Also, can you say Wilson County?????

  13)   Kentucky – Mammoth Cave was cool. Also, a land of bourbon. Good stuff.

  14)   South Dakota – Very pretty area of the country. Plus it has faces of famous people, etched in solid rock.

  15)   Tennessee – Wilson County Bonus Alert! Although I do remember throwing up somewhere in the car in the hills of the backwoods of Tennessee. Not fun. Oh well. I’ll bet Davy Crockett had similar things happen to him here…

  16)   Minnesota – Cold. Little else to say, although one of my best friends is from here, which gives it slight awesomeness cred…

  17)   Mississippi – This will be higher than it should be, simply because the spelling is irresistible. Plus it has a big river named after it. All hail big rivers.

  18)   Missouri – Cool arch. Jumping-off point for the Oregon Trail. Evil baseball team. 2 out of 3 ain’t bad…

  19)   Oklahoma – This state serves as Texas’s frying pan – a point in its favor. I have little else to say about it, for good or for ill.

  20)   North Dakota – Cold, but has oil and is booming.

  21)   Nebraska – Lots of corn when we drove through. I like corn.

  22)   Ohio – Despite the fact that this is one of the most important and populated states of the Union, I have no memory of this place. But there is family here. 

  23) Louisiana – Mardi Gras! Mosquitos! Other random stereotypes!

  24)   Idaho – I’m sure it’s a lovely state. Didn’t spend much time there, though, I have little intelligent to say about the state.

  25)  Alabama – No complaints about the state. Nothing really to say about it, though, except to mention the mild lunacy of the Alabama-Auburn rivalry.

  26)  New Hampshire – Dartmouth is cool. The state is cold. That’s about it. Being in New England knocks it down a peg.

  27)   Indiana – Is it a bad thing if you draw a total blank on a state?

  28)   Maine – Cold. Largely uninteresting. Moose. 1 out of 3 ain’t good.

  29)   Wisconsin – CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESE! Unfortunately, I don’t like cheese. Or the Packers. Or the cold. 

  30)   Pennsylvania – Never really found too much of interest there, and got really bored driving multiple hours through here. Plus, Pennsylvania is right next to New Jersey. Bad neighbors make for bad ratings…

  31)   Nevada – Las Vegas and desert. Great, if that’s your thing. It’s not mine.

  32)   Utah – It’s a Mormon paradise. Never been a believer in false faiths, sorry, even if the state has some very pretty areas…

  33)   Arkansas – This state spawned our nation’s most loathsome president. The ick factor is high here.

  34)  Alaska – I have never graced the state with my presence. Hence an admittedly undeservedly low ranking for what from all accounts is a gorgeous state.

  35)   Massachusetts – Politically, the state is insane. Multiple friends boosts this ranking to far more than it deserves. Boston is cool, though. 

  36)   Iowa – The fact that politicians go here every four years to kickstart their campaigns does not help this state’s awesomeness cred.

  37)   West Virginia – A state which my sister fled kicking and screaming deserves to be low on any list of awesomeness. Perhaps this lack of awesomeness is due to the fact that they chose to flee, kicking and screaming from the wonderful, glorious, epic state of Virginia…

  38)   California – My brother goes to school here, and the state is indeed beautiful. Unfortunately, the state has a well-deserved penchant for sundry forms of idiocy, and also Hollywood. I’ve met many good Californians; they almost all left the state when they got the chance. Wish I could put this state higher, but just can't.

  39)   Illinois – Not a Chicago fan. Also, our current President’s “home” state. Uncool.

  40)   South Carolina – A state of total narcissism. I still haven’t forgiven the fact they kicked off the Civil War because they lost an election.

  41)   Vermont – Combining nutty politicians with near-total irrelevance and frigid weather. Go away.

  42)   Rhode Island – Boring, small, painful politics – what’s not to dislike?

  43)  Connecticut – See #42, slightly magnified. Add the one college that rejected me factor, and Grr…

  44)   Washington – On the Left Coast, with only a Space Needle to enliven it. Also very rainy, and I am NOT the "Singing in the Rain" type.

  45)   Oregon – On the Left Coast, and assisted suicide is not cool.

  46)   New York – Proximity to New Jersey is enough to drop this already awful state. Freezing, crazy politics, and the uncool arrogance of New York City types does the rest.

  47)   Delaware – The excessive tolls on I-95 are my deepest memory of the state. Not a good sign.

  48)   Hawaii – I have never been here, and our current president was born here. Two major strikes against it. Plus, how can a bunch of islands 2,000 miles from the continent of North America be considered a state, anyway?

  49)  New Jersey – I fled my home state kicking and screaming. All Jersey jokes are deserved. I will not say any more, for fear of dredging up unpleasant memories of that ugly asphalt jungle...

  50)   Maryland – An evil state, full of confusing roads, weird politics, and many unpleasant memories.  I have sworn to burn the state down one day. (Yes, I would notify my friends who live there first before striking the match.)

       Disclaimer: For those of you who object to any of these rankings...

Responding With Charity and Clarity

Earlier, I posted a somewhat pointed response to one of my readers, who took issue with my Wednesday post on why women should not be allowed to serve in combat roles in the United States military. He (or she) responded graciously but firmly in return.

I still hold the position I took earlier on the subject, although I have some new wrinkles to think about. But my original post could be understood to exhibit a paternalistic air – which is somewhat ironic, considering my second post was written in response to a stray comment.

The point of this blog is to encourage understanding of my Faith and charity; my posts should therefore exhibit the understanding and charity I demand of others.

The exercise serves as a reminder that two people can and should disagree without being disagreeable, and that wording my posts more carefully with less loaded language will reduce trouble in the future, and will make dialogue easier.

The Vital Question

Perhaps this post should be titled “Why I am not an atheist,” since there is a personal element involved. But it is titled the way it is because the question of God’s existence is one that everyone should ask themselves at some point during their lives.    

For the answer to the question of whether there is a God raises myriad other questions. If there is a God, then the obvious question arises – what (if anything) does He want of us? If there is no God, then right and wrong are illusions, so why can't human beings act as they will? 
Morality, life choices, afterlife - all of these important issues stem from God's existence or non-existence. 

(For what it is worth, I proved God’s existence definitively and brilliantly. But I digress.)

I was born and raised as a theist, but considered atheism for years. Intellectually, certain problems – especially the difficulty of reconciling God’s omniscience and omnipotence in the face of people going to Hell – bothered me about theism. And at many points of my life, I would have preferred the void of atheism to the definiteness of a God. A world without God, moral law, and an afterlife would have been far more appealing and comforting to a young man whose life was, shall we say, not exactly a paragon of moral virtue.

It’s not as if being an atheist is a hardship in America. Atheists win the praise of practically every “sophisticated” writer in America, and receive the unskillfully directed scorn of a few noisy Christians in return. Yes, they see the occasional statue or billboard. But they don’t have to drag their butts to church or have pesky moral rules about things like sex. They also have the satisfaction of believing that on earth, there is no higher being than humanity.

Theism, of course, has its advantages as well: the comforts of an afterlife, the assurance that suffering happens for a reason, the explanation for a lot of insanity that happens in the world. But the vital question does not ask which system is more comforting; false comfort or pride does no good to anyone.

I believe in God for 2 main reasons (and many smaller ones). The first is a modified version of St. Thomas’ 5 ways. All causes must have a first cause. If one accepts the Big Bang theory, explaining what caused the Big Bang is impossible without a God; a speck of unimaginable density doesn't suddenly explode without reason. 

The other definitive proof of God’s existence (for me) is the existence of miracles. Some miracles can be explained away by scientific means. But there are numerous miracles (Fatima comes to mind) which are impossible to explain using the scientific method; 9-year-old children don't just suddenly accurately predict extreme meteorological phenomena.  

Reflections from 10,000 Feet

I came home yesterday from a tour of the Great White North by airplane. Thankfully, it wasn't snowing, so there were no problems or delays. Deo Gratias!

I don’t have much experience flying, and it was my first late night flight. Since I had a window seat, I spent most of my time staring out the window and looking down.

The world looks very different from 10,000 feet. The pattern of lights during the night is absolutely gorgeous from the air. (I took pictures on my cell phone, but my cell phone camera is garbage, and my technological prowess is even worse, so sharing is out. You’ll just have to trust me - or go flying yourself.)

You realize very quickly how small people are high in the air. People are completely unrecognizable from a mile or two up. Cars can’t be seen from that height (and I have very good vision). All that you can see in the night is stationary lights. Small clusters of lights for towns, huge clusters for cities. Lights, lights everywhere. And this pattern of lights is strangely beautiful and comforting. It displays the extent of man's presence on earth. It is also symbolic of man's weakness - his smallness in the grand scheme of things. We are merely a small part of a very large world. 

God commanded His creations to "fill the earth and subdue it." (Gen 1:28) And the proliferation of lights shows that man, for all his imperfections and failures, has fulfilled this command.

Saying Goodbye...

The Mayans were right about the end of the world - at least concerning my career.
I left my job on Friday. I've been working for more than a year and a half at my first "real" job, and it felt very odd to leave. It was very exciting walking in the door the first time. Then the rhythm of the daily grind set in, and it became second nature to pop in and out of the office.
And now, after twenty months, it finally came time to depart. The act of leaving itself was surprisingly simple; I cleaned out my cubicle and took a quick tour of the office to say goodbye to some close friends, and then... left without looking back. Maybe the realization will hit me later that I am gone for good. It hasn't yet.
But leaving will hurt in more personal ways. Saying goodbye to my coworkers, whom I've spent a long time in the trenches with, was very difficult, mostly because I couldn't adequately express to them how thankful I was for their presence and their support. Good men and women are pleasant to be around, and I had many pleasant conversations with my coworkers. I'm not the easiest man to get along with, and they bore my quirks with grace and good humor.
But now, the bond of kinship wrought by close proximity is to be tested. I have found that farewells are strangely permanent events. Everyone promises to stay in touch and visit, and maybe in a few cases, this actually happens. But what usually happens is that people drift away, and friendships are sundered by separation. Yes, Facebook, e-mail, cell phones, (and now Twitter) creates the illusion of connectedness. But aside from a few stray "likes" and the occasional e-mail, the wall of coldness wrought by separation is erected. Former friends become strangers.
I know that people move on with their lives to bigger and better things. I know that others must increase, while I must decrease. And God knows that I am a master of burning bridges. But friendships are meant to endure. If any of my friends at the office read this - here's hoping this goodbye marks merely a change in proximity.

The Danger of Balancing Acts

I just finished my final exam and am finished with graduate school for the Fall 2012 semester! Deo Gratias!
Now I can concentrate on my writing for my employer - until I leave that job next week. The whirlwind continues, with insane amounts of travel during the holiday season.
And then the tornado of activity slows to a crawl - in January, I will be able to study full time for one whole semester, without distraction. And I am very, very glad for this opportunity to focus on my studies.
This may sound like a venting post - and it is one. I don't like being stretched in all directions like Gumby by my worldly cares. No one does. Though it may be necessary, trying to serve two masters is never easy, and always spiritually dangerous. To be a true Christian, one must be willing to give his all in all things - and multitasking hinders one's ability to do so by encouraging distraction.
This past year and a half has taught me the spiritual perils of multitasking, even for good and noble purposes. I could not complete my job and my studies to the best of my ability, to my everlasting shame. Both goods that I pursued conflicted with one another, distracting me from full devotion to my assigned tasks.
Distraction is a constant danger in the spiritual life. There are the constant temptations to distraction during prayer, which are unavoidable. But we tend to surround ourselves with distractions - TV, video games, Internet, technology. We try to have it all and do it all - and we bury ourselves under a web of cares.
As Christians, we should attempt to eliminate distractions from our lives to the best of our ability, including good things. Spiritual distractions should especially be avoided.
The appeal of the contemplative and religious life for one seeking to love God better is obvious. Such a life is comparatively free from the distractions of day-to-day living. As St. Paul eloquently stated in First Corinthians: "The unmarried man is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to please the Lord; but the married man is anxious about worldly affairs, how to please his wife, and his thoughts are divided." (1 Cor 7:32-33)
It has proven very difficult for me to serve two masters on earth. How much more difficult for the Catholic to attend to earthly and spiritual cares simultaneously!

Dealing with a Cold

Today is the First Sunday of Advent, the beginning of the liturgical year and the start of the period of waiting for Christ’s birth. And I am celebrating this period of joyous and penitential preparation for Christ's birth by lying in bed and moaning.

For I was recently given the glorious gift of a nasty cold over the weekend. From a physical standpoint, it hasn’t exactly been a weekend to be proud of. (When you haven’t eaten anything since Friday and still are throwing up water and apple juice, that is NOT a good sign.) And I have done absolutely nothing of substance over the past couple days (except maybe catch up on sleep).

For the record, I hate being sick with a fiery passion - especially on weekends when I have things to do AND people to see. And I loathe playing the role of “Typhoid Paulie,” and have next to no tolerance for pain and illness. 

But what is sobering is not the fact that I am ill, but that I am such a wimp about bearing with illness and pain of any type. Other people suffer from illnesses and injuries far worse than mine. Yet they bear these crosses with forbearance. As for me – well, my roommates can attest to my almost continuous whining this weekend. 

But the point of crosses is not to make others suffer through them, but to bear them patiently. I was exhorted by a friend to “offer up my cross of germs.” And so I will attempt to do, however badly.

God grant me a humble spirit and a mouth that doesn’t complain every five seconds over my aches and queasy insides.

Honesty and Compliments

I recently obtained an armband inscribed with the words “Tell the Truth!” I now wear it constantly as a reminder to live by that principle. 

For the phrase signifies that a man's thoughts and arguments must accord with what is true, and that his actions must also accord with his beliefs. It is a reminder to me to live up to a standard which I constantly fail at, but must always seek to attain.

Too often we choose to spare others the telling of unpleasant yet necessary truths. In sparing others from hard but necessary reality, we harm them. For we allow people to foster illusions about themselves that have no basis in reality, and allow them to persist in their error.

One example of this is in the realm of compliments. Many compliment people whose actions do not merit praise, in order to spare their feelings or to obtain things from them. I sometimes find myself giving undeserved praise to others, because it is much easier to make someone feel good about himself than to tell him hard but necessary truths.

But my lack of honesty comes with a terrible price. Because I know that all my compliments are not genuine, I find myself questioning the honesty of compliments I receive. Every “good job” and “well done” is a source of confusion, an occasion for carefully parsing out the meaning of each word and gesture. Instead of accepting and learning from praise, I attempt to determine whether words signify true praise, a throwaway line, sarcasm, or a veiled insult.  

Compliments sincerely given are poisoned by those that are false. One lie poisons the well of truth, no matter how pure the original water.

This is not to say that one should go about willy-nilly telling the faults of others. Truth divorced from other virtues is a dangerous thing (as I have noted elsewhere).  We must not tell truths with the potential of destroying the good name of others, for example. (In Catholic theology, this is known as the sin of detraction.)

But nor must be lie and tell others that their mediocre actions are good. It is not a good thing for individuals to perpetually live in a bubble free of criticism. Individuals in healthy relationships must challenge one another.

We live in an age which demands the cloak of civility over our true feelings. Many friendships and even relationships simply could not survive without it. But it is better not to lie and perpetuate a veil of illusion.

A Personal Pet Peeve Regarding Greetings

I have countless pet peeves. Perhaps the most basic of these is my attitude towards the modern understanding of the common greetings “How are you doing?” and “What’s up?”

A person unskilled in the arts of modern slang would take these phrases to be actual inquires into to the personal status of a friend or neighbor. And years ago, this would have indeed been the case.

But over the years, these greetings have been diluted to mere acknowledgements of the presence of others, if that. "How are you" means little more than "hi." And I despise this trend with a fiery passion.

When I ask an acquaintance “how they are doing,” I actually want to know if he is doing well, or if I should be worried about him. I am not simply saying hello. Similarly, when I ask a friend “what’s up,” I am not merely acknowledging his existence. I actually want to know if they are doing anything of interest, and whether I can help them in achieving their ends. 

If I seek only to acknowledge your presence, I will do so with a nod or a wave or a "hi." But if I ask about you, I expect an answer. And I will answer your queries in similar fashion.

My List of Loves

Years ago, I was asked by several of my friends to list what I love. I foolishly promised to do so, but my good intentions always take a while to complete.

So now that my interrogators have forgotten their requests, here, by unpopular lack of demand, is that glorious list. (They are listed in order.)

 

1.     God

      2.     Catholic Faith

      3.     Family

      4.      Friends

      5.      Writing

      6.    Walking

      7.      Intellectual Argument

      8.      Winning

      9.      Denver Broncos

      10.  History (especially Reformation-era)

      11.  Soccer

      12.  Sleep

      13.  Little Blue (my car)

      14.  Yuengling

      15.  Scrabble

      16.  Writing Bad Poetry

      17.  Civilization IV

      18.  Gatorade

      19.  Looking Down from Heights

      20.  Virginia

      21.  Pompous Word Choice

      22.  Salt

      23.  Settlers of Catan

      24.  Jolly Ranchers

      25.  Stratego

      There are other "loves," but you have suffered enough if you reached the end of this.

Tribute to My Mother

It is a sad truth of fallen humanity that physical beauty fades over time. The years are especially cruel to the looks of most women.

Not so in my family. My mother has defied time and grown more beautiful with age.          

I noticed this a few years ago, and used to think this was just my perception of her changing. My memories of her are much happier now than they were in my dark years. (Good memories of anyone were rare then.) Good memories of a person tend to influence one's views of other characteristics, as well, including physical beauty.

But then I went looking through some pictures of her in our early years. And it is clear she has grown in beauty over time. 

The explanation for her defiance of age is simple. Good people are beautiful; goodness is itself attractive. And my mother has grown more and more holy as the years have passed.   
She has always been zealous for God and for her neighbor; always prepare to give of herself whenever necessary.

Anyone who knows anything about my mother knows that she is a firestorm of activity (I used to call her Fire Mommy because she was so active), the epitome of a Type A choleric. Her name literally translates to peace – which she often pokes fun at herself for, because is a very strong-willed woman who has no problem letting others know what is on her mind and doing things other people fear to do. 

But over the years, she has tempered her zeal with understanding; she has grown calmer, more patient, more loving. Her judgment of when and how to intervene and discuss important matters with others has become acute. 

She is still a zealous servant of others, without regard for her own comfort. She is still willing to sacrifice herself for others to almost absurd degrees, making herself (at times, quite literally) sick with worry for others. To take one example: she drove 10+ hours (round trip) through terrible traffic on a weekday - just to bring me my car which was left in the shop over the weekend. 

She still drives me nuts on occasion. She loads me (and my siblings) down with all sorts of things to take with me when I visit the family. She still predicts that will lose to me in Scrabble games while she is winning by thirty points. She still quickly offers help to anyone any everyone but rarely accepts assistance. 
And I fear for her; she takes on so much that at some point she may break down under the weight of her service.

But she loves with her whole heart, soul, mind, and strength, and constantly displays that love. And Christian love truly does conquer even the hardest of hearts – including mine.

My love for her is but an imperfect shadow of hers for me. God grant mine for her be a shadow of what hers is for me.

My Teaching Philosophy

So I was asked to compose a teaching philosophy for my graduate school history class at the Catholic University of America. Mine turned out somewhat... different than everyone else's. 

Brilliance is not a happy accident reserved to the fortunate few. It is a way of life, founded upon a spirit of intellectual curiosity and dogged perseverance in the pursuit of knowledge. As a teacher, it is my first and foremost task to inculcate these attitudes in my students, pushing them to excel.

But the task of the teacher is not merely to mold minds to think clearly; the truly excellent educator touches students’ souls as well. If I have not touched my students’ lives for the better through my good example, I have failed them. 

This twofold calling of the teacher – to shape minds and souls – demands knowledge of each and every student and concern for their well-being. To be an effective teacher, I must come to know the likes, dislikes, learning styles, and habits of my students. Teaching is not a one-size-fits-all affair; I must also accommodate my preferred teaching style (lecture mixed with student questioning) to suit my students’ needs.

Inside the classroom, my teaching is designed to engage students, making them active participants in their own learning. In my classroom, each student takes charge of his or her own learning, and participation on the part of each individual is welcomed and appreciated.

My task as a history teacher is to weave past and present together in a way that encourages each student to seek to know more about the past. But for the excellent history teacher, a love for the past is impossible to gratify without an emphasis on the building blocks of history – documents and fixed events. My class demands that students focus on these cornerstones of history, and not construct ideological castles in the air which perpetuate their preconceived notions and ignore the facts of time.

For a German Augustinian monk really did nail 95 theses to a cathedral door in 1517. A Jewish girl hid in an attic and kept a detailed and compelling diary while Nazis hunted to kill her and her family. An American plane dropped one bomb that vaporized that Japanese city of Hiroshima and killed tens of thousands. The interpretations of particular events and documents may change, but the events and documents from which history is pieced together do not. They become the markers of history – guideposts which direct the discipline.  

Without an emphasis on documents and fixed events, history becomes an exercise in systematized fantasy – a playground for the fiction writer or the Marxist to construct alternate realities or postulate absurd theories. Divorced from actual occurrences, history becomes illusion – or worse, propaganda in servitude to preconceived ideology.

But the converse is true, as well. An inchoate collection of events means nothing without an overarching narrative to tie them together. The “teacher” who amasses great knowledge of unrelated events is nothing more than an antiquarian. To master the craft of history, a successful history teacher must weave the documents and happenings into a compelling, plausible narrative.

People with similar narratives coalesce to form different schools of history, which wax and wane like the tides. Political history is in fashion one generation, social history the next. Fittingly, a discipline that analyzes and documents human change over time is itself subject to time’s cycles.

However, there is one narrative exempt from the vicissitudes of time – a narrative which I embrace. Christ, Lord of history, founded a Church whose teaching remains unchanged, even as Her form has changed dramatically over the ages. I view history through the prism of the teaching of the timeless Church, and will educate my students through that lens.

God willing, my efforts will help students to share my love of the past.

The Danger of One Solitary Virtue

It is often the case that individuals often have a special affinity for one particular virtue. Some are given a greater capacity for the virtue of temperance, others for fortitude, still others for charity. Individuals with those predispositions are called to especially embody that particular virtue.

But obsession with any one virtue is problematic. Obedience to the exclusion of other virtues is slavery to the will of others; an over-emphasis on justice leads to an “eye for an eye” mentality. To be truly virtuous, a man must possess and practice all the virtues in unison.

This is problematic for me, because my obsessive virtue is honesty. I (emotionally, at least) love honesty above every other virtue, and I loathe people who tell untruths. I hate even the smallest shading of the truth to frame a position in the best possible light, even if the general thrust of a statement is true. Next to God and family, truth is my one love – and I worry that that my love of truth surpasses my love for God and humanity.

Those who are "honest" about following their principles, no matter how evil, win my grudging admiration. For example, I respect Floyd Conklin (the FRC shooter), who acted against "hatred" by trying to shoot up a “hate group.” He, at least, was clear about the nature of the "hate" he believed he was fighting. 

I respect the honesty of Huffington Post contributor Noah Michelson when he writes: "But in my fantasies, we're not gunning for gay acceptance - especially not if the only way we're granted it is by "behaving ourselves" and struggling to fit into a heteronormative mold (which, as far as I can tell, hasn't really benefited heterosexual people very well, either). Instead, I want us to be pushing for queer liberation, which to me, has always meant that when it comes to sex and love, we all get to do whatever we want with whomever we want with whomever we want as we're not hurting anyone (unless of course, that person/those people are asking for us to hurt them)." He, at least, recognizes that the redefinition of marriage means much more that the mere recognition of "same-sex marriage."

Conkin and Michelson started from horrific first principles, but were at least honest about where their first principles led, and were willing to take those consequences of their first principles to their logical end.

Others of their ilk set arbitrary limits on their principles based on discomfort as to their logical conclusion (or political expediency), For example, individuals who support gay marriage often refuse to support the marriage of sterilized incestuous couples, even though there is no logical argument to 

For this same reason, I loathe the hypocrisy of Dan Savage, who screams against hatred and bullying yet stokes it at every turn with his rhetoric. I loathe the behavior of those who claim to be Christian, yet who divorce, remarry, and live a life unworthy of Christianity. I loathe the dishonesty of my own life, when I preach mercy or dignity yet fail to practice those virtues. (And it happens often.)  

But honesty lacking in charity is cold, harsh, bitter, and angry. Calumny is sinful, but detraction (the ruining of another’s good name by revealing something evil about the person, even if true) is also sinful.

One virtue, taken alone and  removed from other virtues, becomes a snare. As Catholics, we must embody ALL the virtues, not just one.

Abortion and Christian Charity

I was praying at an abortion clinic last weekend with a group of friends. As sometimes happens, we were yelled at by a passerby while we were praying.

An irate man yelled at us as we were praying (somewhat more politely than most, I might add – no expletives were used). He adopted the familiar tactic of accusing pro-lifers of not caring for women: “So you really want to help these women? Then you need to provide free day care for them for the rest of their lives! These women will never see you after today, and all you are making them do is feel bad. You…”

At this point, the man stopped. I don’t know whether someone talked to him, or whether he just got disgusted that we didn’t drop everything, stop praying, and listen to him.

But I badly wanted to speak to him. For he was wrong, wrong, a thousand times wrong! But his lie contains a grain of truth.

I’ve written on this topic before, but it bears repeating. The Church does care for women in danger of abortions, if the women are not too proud to ask for help. Pregnancy centers, homeless shelters, food banks, adoption agencies – caring for the poor and disabled is a Christian way of life, that faithful Catholics do practice.

But his statement should be reflected upon by us Catholics, who are often lax in providing charity to the poor and downtrodden. Catholics – especially young Catholics – must know how to help women in danger of obtaining abortions if the opportunity arises. We must know where they can go for help. We must be prepared to give of our time, our resources, and even ourselves, if need be, in order to help women in need.

College students cannot, of course, pay for free day-care, or adopt children, or make massive monetary commitments. But youth is a time of energy, not to be wasted. We may not have the money to give to the poor – but we often do have the time to volunteer at pregnancy centers and food banks. We may not have the means to give monetarily to charity – but we usually have the means to show charity to our neighbor.

Youth is no excuse for lack of charity – it is a time of action, as well as a building block of future charity. And charity, our Christian duty, can potentially save lives and souls.

Forgiveness and the Insoluble Riddle

I usually try to answer the unspoken questions other people have about important topics on this blog. (How well I do is for you and God to judge.)

Now, I ask you to do the same for me.

I’ve never learned to forgive – myself OR anyone else for major mistakes that they are not sorry for – or when they or I have done irreparable harm to another. EVER.

Oh, sure, I understand the problem with “eye for an eye” justice, and technically, I’ve never actually retaliated when someone has done me injury. And I do forgive other people for their faults, if forgiveness means allowing individuals to get away with faults scot-free. 

But such "forgiveness" is merely intellectual. In my brain, all is forgiven; in my heart, all is not. And though I will rarely if ever say anything out loud (and certainly NEVER to the offending parties), the burning anger at what I have done wrong and those who have done me wrong never, NEVER stops. Time may heal the memories of others, but it only sharpens mine.

Forgiveness is central to Christianity. Christ commands us to forgive, “seventy times seven” (Matt 18:22) times. And not just in our intellect, either. We are called to give each other entirely to each other, to forgive each other entirely. Christianity is not a faith of half-measures. We forgive or we cease to be Christian.

I hate insoluble riddles, at least those riddles I know are solvable. And I know other people have solved the riddle of forgiveness, because I see their joy at having done so.

But I can’t solve this one on my own. Any help? And certainly, please keep me in your prayers; you are in mine. 

Failure to Desire Goodness...

There are days I hate my brain and my body with a fiery, flaming passion. Today is one of those days. My stupid brain and body have gone haywire again. Or, more accurately, I should say that my disordered desires are pulling my brain in destructive directions.
St. Paul's dictum comes to mind: "For the good which I will, I do not, but the evil which I will not will, I do." (Romans 7:19) But St. Paul was apparently a far better man than I am. I wish his obvious desire to do good were present in me. It is not.

For I am not even at that point where I want to do good - and in my heart, I know it. Deep down in my gut, I want to hurt those who have done me injury, even perceived injuries long since past. I want to gratify my own desires, whether for food, drink, or excessive sleep – or even baser desires. I still want my own way, without hesitation.

What makes this situation worse is that I know what God wants of me. I know I should be helping others come closer to Christ, denying myself pleasures instead of gratifying them. I know I am called to service, not selfishness.
But I want the pleasure, but not the pain; I want the pride of success, but not the mission; I want Easter, but not the cross. And I act accordingly.
St. Thomas Aquinas, when asked how to become a saint, famously wrote: "Will it!" But to will sanctity, we must desire it first. God grant me, and all who suffer with me, the strength to will this desire.