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Editorial

Fri, 16 Mar 2007 02:52:31 GMT

I wrote this for my AP Language and Composition class... thought you all might like to read it as well...

Voltaire’s “Crush the Infamous Thing” still resounds through the centuries as a portent of animosity toward organized religion. The Catholic Church has done itself no favors in refuting Voltaire’s assertion. Her tumultuous history ranging from the crusades in the thirteen hundreds to the modern day sex scandals make it easy to forget the true meaning of the Catholic Church. In fact, most people, including some Catholics, tend to overlook both the infallibility of the institution, and the good its people have wrought. There is no doubt in my mind that the Church, as instituted by Jesus Christ, is infallible. Any organization, no matter its purpose, is run by humans and therefore susceptible to mistakes; it is not the greater organization making these mistakes, but rather the people inside it that falter and fail. It is the same way with the Catholic Church. The Church has not failed; the men inside it sinned against what they swore to uphold. But even with these occurrences, the beauty of the Church’s mission has not faded, but rather grown more mature and prominent in spite of these atrocities.

One of the most tangible factors of the Church’s influence is its insistence on education. There are 223 Catholic Colleges in the United States alone, 8,102 Catholic schools, nearly seven thousand of which are focused on grades K-8. These schools not only give excellent education, but they also instill moral values and tendencies necessary in both a good Catholic and a good citizen of the United States (Center of Education Reform. K-12 Stats)

The Church’s focus on education is not a recent development. Before the industrial revolution in the nineteenth century, the ruling class saw no need for an educated peasantry. Because of this, only the Church offered any form of education at all. Saints like Thomas Aquinas and Ignatius of Loyola transformed Church thought, and St. Ignatius also founded the Jesuit order, instrumental in the Counter-Reformation and is now prominent in education as well.

More than half of all Christians and one-sixth of the world’s population are Catholic. As a universalizing religion (global, appealing to all people), combined with technological advances and continuing globalization, it has become easier for the Church to spread to wide areas while in contact with all regions. The Vatican has ensured that all churches read the same readings and perform the same Mass each day. This is a major unification point within the Church. The ability for a person to comprehend what is going on during the mass, no matter what language, brings the entire faith together into one unified being.

World Youth Day also signifies a gathering of the church family. Thousands of young Catholics from all over the world travel to a specific destination every three years to both celebrate and learn the faith, and to “build bridges of friendship and hope between continents, peoples and cultures.” We are the future, and as the body of Christ, we need to learn to work in harmonious unison to better serve God and the world. (WYD FAQS)

The Catechism of the Catholic Church, sponsored and promulgated by Pope John II as one concise guide to major Church doctrine, states that the Church is “in her very nature missionary, sent by Christ to all the nations… especially to the poor.” Mother Teresa manifests herself in this quote. Her drive was to serve the poorest of the poor, the starving dying in the streets, lepers lying abandoned in alleyways—this was her life, her calling, and she spread it all over the world. She was quoted saying “The miracle is not that we do this work, but that we are happy to do it.” This is a happy miracle indeed, as her Missionaries of Charity have spread to more than 100 cities throughout the world. (CCC 767, 886)

Catholic Charities is another institution representing the Church’s willingness to help those who cannot help themselves. Located in the USA, CC is dedicated to “eliminating poverty, supporting families, and empowering communities,” and they gave aid to more than 12.5 million causes in 2005 alone. As a non-profit organization, more than 90% of all donations go to serving others, making it one of the most efficient charities in the country. (Catholic Charities USA)

Despite the fallacies of the past, the Church is now larger than it has ever been. Even in the United States, the percent growth is astounding—16 percent from 1990 to today. Bishop Fulton Sheen, a prominent Catholic evangelist, once stated, “Not 100 in the United States hate the Roman Catholic Church, but millions hate what they mistakenly think the Roman Catholic Church is.” Catholics have been working to change that viewpoint, and although there have been pitfalls, the Church has made many advances and helped so many lives that the negatives are little more than small pebbles scattered throughout thousands of grains of sand.

yeah... needs some work... but i'm lazy.....

Friday, March 09, 2007

Fri, 09 Mar 2007 01:14:18 GMT

This my goodness does to endow the souls of the just more fully with spiritual riches when for my love they are stripped of material goods because they have renounced the world and all its pleasures and even their own will. These are the ones who fatten their souls, enlarging them in the abyss of my charity. Then I become their spiritual provider. The Holy Spirit becomes their servant. -- St. Catherine of Siena

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Wed, 07 Mar 2007 03:56:50 GMT

A friend and I visited the nursing home today. Every Tuesday she goes and plays piano for singalong. Today, she invited me.

I had forgotten how hard it was. Being in the nursing home setting brought back memories of my childhood. When my grandfather's alzheimer's grew to be too much for my grandmother, he went into a nursing home for vets. I have vivid memories visiting him, sitting at a table with him.... searching for some semblance of the man who had taken me out for doughnuts and was never without a chuckle for a little girl.

But I also recalled how he never forgot my name. No matter how bad he got, he never forgot my name.

This last summer, we did missions work at a nursing home several days before attending the steubenville conference. I was asked to go into the mental ward and help lead the singalong. Perhaps it was God nudging me toward there, asking me to remember why it was that I care so deeply for the elderly. These people were so joyful, so happy at just being able to participate in an activity with one another. Their look at having the undivided attention of several gentle youth is something I shall never forget.

Today, unsure of what to expect, I nervously entered the nursing home, flute on my shoulder, grinning outwardly; hiding an inner turmoil. Seeing person after person... my fears seemed about to be realized. I slipped into my "auto" mode, the mode where I place total control over to God, to not let my fears and reactions control my being. Slowly though, as the first chords sung out of the piano, as the first words of "Jesus Loves Me" tenuously began to become audible, I realized that these people were like children. God's children, who have more wisdom and experience then I can ever imagine. The words grew louder as the songs progressed. When we reached "Amazing Grace"... i did not think it was possible for them to sing any louder. I have that song memorized, so i spun around while playing, receiving many winks and grins for my troubles.

But seeing the other ones was hard, the ones that just kinda sit there. I was curious as to what they think about, and I really didn't like the conclusion that I came to, until I realized that there was the possibility that they were seeing God. I pray that God is slowly revealing Himself to them, that as their mind and faculties lose focus and ability, that they come to know how much He really loves them.

The greatest joy I had, was when one sassy elderly lady told me it would "cost" me to turn the page in her book. When I asked "how much" the cost was... well it had the entire room chuckling with the answer.

I know it was Devine inspiration that prompted my friend to invite me. I relearned something I had forgotten, something I dearly needed to remember. God does not choose our paths, we choose our paths to God. He knows what we were meant to do, He knows the only vocation that we will truly make us happy. But it is up to us to hear His hints, to follow His calling.

Acts 20:24

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 03:27:05 GMT

"Yet I consider life of no importance to me, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to bear witness to the gospel of God's grace."

Need I say more?

The first time I read this passage, I had been praying to the Lord about my vocation. I was extremely confused due to various circumstances of my true calling... or if I even had purpose.

This verse taught me that my life alone truly had no purpose. That as a human being, I was nothing more than another insignificant creature walking the earth. But as a Daughter of God, I was a vessel through which God could fulfill His purpose, if that makes any sense. That I was created to do nothing more than God's will.... and the only possible way for me to be happy here is to follow that will. I pray every day that I may discern correctly God's calling for me, and that his trust may not be misplaced.

Meditation

Sun, 04 Mar 2007 18:14:24 GMT

St. Catherine of Siena wrote, in her Dialogues, that "All the sufferings the soul bears or can bear in this life are not enough to punish one smallest sin. For an offense against God, infinite Good, demands infinite satisfaction; not all sufferings given in this life are given for punishment, but rather for correction, to chastise the child that offends."

By accepting our suffering and giving it up to Jesus, bearing it with "desire, love and contrition of heart," each person may grow in understanding of Jesus' sacrifice. He died so that we may know God. He already paid the infinite price of our shortcomings. But by accepting our chastisement, we grow stronger in our faith, stronger in our Love and Trust of Our Father.

Lord, let me bear my corrections with the dignity of one of Your children. Help me to change my sinful ways and lead my heart and mind closer to You and Your will.

Beginnings?

Sun, 04 Mar 2007 00:43:15 GMT

Its slightly ironic that the first day I begin my discernment blog is also the fourth anniversary of my grandmother's passing. I can honestly say that I can contribute my faith, and my life, to no one other than my Grandma (other than God of course). God used my grandmother as a vessel for so many different things, and I am privileged to be able to have known such a woman for nearly 13 years of my life. When I was little, I knew of two saints... Mother Teresa, and my grandmother. This is my tribute to her life. Thank you Grandma!! I miss you!.

My grandma grew up in a rather large Catholic family during the Great Depression. Her father owned a fruit stand, and although more fortunate then some, the family struggled to get by. After the depression, she attended college to become a nurse, and after Pearl Harbor, both she, and my grandfather (as a Marine), enlisted in the military. Both spent significant time overseas and are two of our Nation's many heros'.

Once home, she married my grandfather and raised 9 wonderful children, ensuring that they all had excellent Catholic education. She continued to be a nurse, and was active in both her parish and her children's schools. She was also one of the leading proponents for the creation of a children's hospital in the Twin Cities region. She succeeded =D.

When I was born, I was not supposed to survive. I lost two pounds within my first two days, and i was a tiny baby to begin with. Multiple complications and seizures accompanied the weight loss, and the doctors could not figure out what was wrong. My grandmother insisted on my baptism, and two days after my birth, i was brought into the Church. This Sacrament saved my life. My condition began improving nearly immediately. I thank my grandmother each and every day for believing in the miracle of the God's mercy, for without her insistence I would not have known the beauty that is the Faith.

Every summer I spent weeks at my grandmother's cabin. There was no shortage of things to do, as the area was perfect for swimming, exploring and just hanging out. I was never lonely there, grandma loved to spend time with me; we would spend hours just playing Rummy or Kings-in-the-Corner. (she taught me this game when i was 4) Every day, though, she would take up her rosary beads, and go sit outside on the patio steps and pray. She was the only person I knew that every prayed the rosary, or even attended church every sunday. Some days i would follow her out into the beautiful country setting and read with her as she prayed, basking in the serene aura she was always surrounded with.

My grandfather developed Alzheimer's disease when i was quite young... but my grandmother cared for him for years until he was so sick and her osteoporosis/other issues made it too difficult for her... but the love her devotion showed,.. the care she put into everything he needed. That is true love. That is what every parent needs to show their children. That love is the love I pray for every married couple... that even when one is so far gone... their love is so true that it doesn't even matter anymore, that person is still the same to the other one. But thats another point entirely.

She also was the only person I knew that never took fault at another. She chose to love a person for who they were, as son's and daughter's of God, rather than by their actions. I try to follow her example, it is hard, but I know that with the aid of God it can be done. She gave me some of the greatest gifts i could ever ask for: Life, Love, and Faith.

My family stopped attending church even semi regularly in 5th grade, I believed in God, but, like my parents, I didn't understand why I had to go to church every sunday. But my grandma constantly was meandering through the back of my mind... she had been through so much, yet was so happy. She was always giving me little gifts... the first was a card with Psalm 23 on it, the next a cross necklace, and the third a guardian angel pin. Each has had important significance in my life. Psalm 23 has helped me through various troubles, and i read it at my grandfathers funeral, starting out my career as a lector. The cross necklace is a constant reminder of why I am alive, because of Jesus' mercy and the forgiveness of my sins. And the pin... more proof of my grandmothers love. My favorite tangible gift that she gave me was a rosary. For years I thought nothing of it.. even though I saw how devoted she was to the prayer, I was, and still am, a very impatient person, but now the rosary is one of my greatest treasures, and i pray it daily.

She died two months before my thirteenth birthday.

Her funeral was the only funeral I have ever cried at... and I have been to far far too many of them. I could not understand for the longest time that the person I loved most dearly was gone. This, combined with other factors that had been building for years, caused me to slowly drift into a low point, a long sustaining low point. I displayed a mask to most people, and hid my confusion and loneliness from the world. But when i was 15, still attending wednesday night classes and believing in God, I signed up for my first Steubenville. This experience changed my life. I remembered her love and zeal for the faith. I recalled how everything she did was focused on another rather than herself. The experience and subsequent ponderings of my first great adoration experience showed me why she felt as she did. I finally understood that I had been following in her footsteps, but rather than growing as she did, i rather mulled along behind... mussing her patterns and delicate lines... She helped me grow to the point where I was willing to see the truth of the faith, and seeing that truth helped me to better understand her, and in return better understand the faith. For example, I began praying the rosary daily because it was something my grandmother did, I then realized what a beautiful prayer and thought focuser it was. When I discontinued praying it, I began again because I knew my grandmother wanted me to, and I continue to this day because I have yet to see a prayer more beautiful and perfect. My faith journey has been long, but as with my life, I'm not sure it would be here if my grandmother had not shown me the Truth.

Four years ago today, my grandmother passed away. Three years ago, she saved my life. My brother and I were coming home from Youth Group, and were in a serious accident. The truck was totalled, and the only thing between us and death or serious injury was our seat-belts. I know it was her intercession that ensured that our seatbelts were fastened securely that night... and that we missed death by inches... It is certain in my heart that my grandmother saved my life twice. It is now my duty to find out why.

I apologise to whomever read this if this doesn't make sense. It was quite hard to write, and it was deleted partway through. if you have any questions or would like something fixed... please leave a comment. God bless!

Winter Musings...

Sat, 03 Mar 2007 16:24:31 GMT

I jumped off my roof today.

Not only was it an invigorating experience, to jump the 15 feet or so from the top of the garage to the ground, but it also brought back memories of a time in my childhood when I actually was happy... Well a carefree happy, not a knowledge of Jesus happy, which I normally am now. When I wasn't constantly worrying about schoolwork, my discernment, and what would happen the next time my parents decided to pick a fault in me.

When i was younger... my dad would plow all of the snow from the driveway into two big piles. One of them would be directly under the edge of the roof. This is the northern US, we get feet of snow each winter. I was a tiny kid, skinny and short. I would clamber to the apex of the house, and slowly plow all of the loose snow into a compacted row, and spend hours just sliding off and climbing back up. I was a monkey, i would navigate whole stretches of the roof carefully on my hands and knees, creating random Catherine shapes. Unfortunately, much of the time my mother would get annoyed at the constant scraping, and I'm sure I did considerable damage to some of the shingles. Or not, because we still have not had to repair the roof. Anyway, my brother and I would also have contests seeing who could jump further off the roof. (Do not try this at home!! lol, we have a single story home, and the snow would be several feet thick... besides, i think my parents put enough layers on us to shield us from a stampede of raging elephants.)

The other pile... would be used to create a giant tunnel.... ahh good times. My dad generally had to do most of the work, because he compacted the snow so tightly, but there is nothing more magical than sitting in the recess of a snow enclave. The light would be dim-ish, and all one would be able to see would be the gentle blue of sparkling-shimmering snow. I could sit there thinking of random things for hours, pondering and creating, understanding and confusing.... myself that is, I could, and still can, think myself in circles. It only got bad when my brother attempted to collapse the tunnel by jumping on it with me still inside. Boys....

But these happy memories also bring up the bad, the white-washes, the snowballs, the iceballs, the snow down the back, the falling out of sleds pulled by snowmobiles going high mphs... things of which i really won't go into detail about, because they are things all younger siblings have to put up with from older, and younger, siblings.

These memories remind me of the path I have walked in my discernment. The happy sliding time is the time when I come to a realization; when i am confident in a decision, and content in its results. Here I am happy, knowing the choice I have made is significant in some way... that it is a milestone step, and that i cannot go back once I made the decision... until I stop moving and must climb back up again. And, as in the sliding, my mother has been a significant obsticle. Her disproval of my possible religious vocation is the only thing stopping me from going on nun runs all over the country. I desperatly need her approval. I want her to understand why I need this to be happy. I don't think I can enter without her consent.... Her love is something I have needed most in my life, and her attention, her positive attention, is something i have rarely gotten... I don't know... in a way, her disapproval is like the snowball in the face, it is a setback in an otherwise rapid journey toward the realization of a beautiful calling.

My jumping off the roof was accompianied by a waterfall of snow, and my landing by a sparkling splash of flakes into the air. It reminds me of the first adoration experience I had at Steubenville 2005... plunging into the possibilities of my future, that someday, I may actually be the Bride of Christ. That thought was as big of a jolt to my brain as the impact of my knees on connection with the earth. And the resounding Echos from that realization are still sending ripples of confusion throughout my brain... as this impossible dream inches slowly closer to reality.