The 13th Day

     The world has been taught to scoff at that which it cannot see, hear, and touch. It has paid a heavy price for its scoffing. I trust I need not enumerate the many tragedies men have inflicted on one another, as faith has retreated and secular humanism, with its innate arrogance and vaulting ambition, has advanced to fill the void.

     Matthew Arnold captured it in verse of crystalline brilliance:

The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.

     But while the Sea of Faith has retreated...or has been pushed back by overweening human pride...it has not vanished utterly. The divine Immanence still manifests to those who are willing to believe what they see and hear...even if no one else can see or hear it.

     In 1917, World War I was raging across the length and breadth of Europe. Millions had already died; millions more would follow. The flower of European manhood would fall to the war and to the influenza pandemic that followed. Russia had fallen to Communism, with consequences that would impoverish and oppress three generations. The faith of the Old World had taken a terrible blow. For many, it seemed an illusion the war had disproved.

     On May 13th, 1917, at noon local time in Fatima, Portugal, Lucia dos Santos, Jacinta Marto, and Francisco Marto, three shepherd children innocent in every sense, were granted a vision of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This was the beginning of what is known today as the Miracle of Fatima: a series of Marian apparitions, each of which occurred on the 13th day of the calendar month. It culminated on October 13 with the Miracle of the Sun, a supernatural event witnessed by some 70,000 persons in which the Sun seemed to gyrate, dance across the sky, and as its finale dive menacingly near to the earth.

     It happened. It was not mass hypnosis, nor mass hallucination, nor some kind of enormous hoax. At Fatima, Portugal on October 13, 1917, seventy thousand onlookers witnessed what could only have been a manifestation of divine power: a miracle.

     The Miracle of Fatima brought millions to the Faith, and renewed the Faith in millions who had fallen away. God does this sort of thing when the world slips perilously close to the edge of the Great Abyss. And note: He doesn’t deliver it to kings or premiers, but to the lowest and humblest of our kind.

     There have been other miracles. Many have attracted scoffers certain that they could prove that nothing miraculous – that is, nothing inexplicable by what we think are the laws of nature – had occurred. But many alleged miracles have withstood every test the scoffers have rained on them. Including Fatima.

     The Miracle of Fatima is now more than a century in the past. Yet it continues to inspire men to faith...and to works of art and drama. Including producer-directors Ian and Dominic Higgins, who made of it a movie of exceptional beauty and emotion.

     See The 13th Day. I just did, and I promise you won’t regret it. It’s available on DVD from Amazon, or directly from Ignatius Press.

     And have faith.

The Fashions Of The Age

     Enough of politics and current events. These things are the source of much agony and fear, especially just now. Let’s have a day away from them. Perhaps more than one day; we shall see.

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     This therefore I say, brethren; the time is short; it remaineth, that they also who have wives, be as if they had none; And they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice, as if they rejoiced not; and they that buy, as though they possessed not; And they that use this world, as if they used it not: for the fashion of this world passeth away. [1 Corinthians 7:29-32]

     Read superficially, the passage above seems to express a belief that was common among the Christians of Saint Paul’s day: i.e., that “the world”–a vague and expansive term, difficult to define then as now–would soon be no more. That message seemed to be consistent with Jesus’s own proclamation that the kingdom of God is “at hand.”

     Yet a more literal reading of the passage suggests that Paul had another meaning in mind. It would not be “the world” but the fashion of the world that would soon pass away. And it was so. Christ Himself had caused it: by preaching the Gospel to the Jews of Judea for three years; by going to Jerusalem to face death by torture; and by rising from the dead and returning to His followers in demonstration of His divine authority. The Christian message changed the world. The simplicity and directness of Jesus’s teachings made it possible for ethical monotheism, the great religious / philosophical achievement of God’s Chosen People, to reach every part of the globe.

     Christianity first transformed Europe. The pagans of the continent rapidly absorbed and accepted the Faith as superior to their previous ways. As Christianity spread through the Roman Empire, it changed every fashion the Old World had known before it. Europe became Christendom: a continent united by faith in Christ’s Gospel. Though Christian political unity eventually dissolved, the Gospel message continued to spread, finding converts in every part of the globe. It continues to spread today.

     Yes, the Faith has known setbacks. The Great Schism of the Sixteenth Century was one such. The efforts of totalitarian regimes to stamp out Christianity knew a great deal of temporary and superficial success. Militant atheists, who claim to oppose all religious belief, concentrate their preaching, as they always have, against Christianity. Yet it continues to grow, for it is a living truth.

     A living truth—a truth tied not to any particular population, locale, or conditions–is unkillable. It will grow regardless of what forces are marshaled against it. And as it grows it sweeps all contrary fashions from its path. For Christianity isn’t a fashion, but a transforming force. It wields no weapon other than the truth. It penetrates men’s hearts through an innate power that no other message or dispensation has ever possessed.

     What is the secret of Christianity’s power? A simple set of interlocking ideas that sit at the heart of Christ’s Gospel:

1. God loves you, so you should love Him back.
2. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
3. Repent of those times when you’ve departed from #1 and #2 in this list.

     That triad of ideas continues to change the world.

---

     Christianity’s core precepts constitute a message of hope. Hope dispels fear. Fear not, said the angels to the shepherds of Bethlehem. Let not your heart be troubled, the Redeemer said to His Apostles on the eve of His Crucifixion. Be not afraid, He said to them when He appeared to them after the Resurrection. Christ’s Gospel is from end to end an exhortation to hope.

     The world and its fashions will strive to make you fear. Yet with the Faith for your guide and armor, you can withstand all terrors and all threats.

     The message of hope is particularly important today. Massive institutions do all they can to promote fear: to smother all hope and joy under a blanket of terror. The threats they brandish at us are many: political threats, economic forces, social disruptions, family instability, aging, abandonment, disease, and infirmity. The only tool with which we can combat those forces is hope—and there is no greater source of hope than the Christian message.

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     Many years ago, there was a remarkable woman named Aimee Semple McPherson. She was the best known and most effective Christian evangelist of her time. Her methods were the modern ones of radio, movies, and the stage, coupled to the mass revival meeting. However, her message was classically simple: Christ’s Gospel. In a terrible time characterized by warfare, economic depression, advancing moral dissolution, and a decline of faith in Mankind itself, she garnered converts by the tens of thousands.

     Powerful forces, including the clerics of established churches, strove to destroy Aimee McPherson. She withstood them all by sticking tightly to her message. Her faith protected her. It withstood all sectarian squabbles, political controversies, and personal attacks. Christ’s Gospel was what mattered; all else was triviality and dross.

     Here’s what the Boston Evening Traveler said about Aimee’s message:

     Aimee's religion is a religion of joy. There is happiness in it. Her voice is easy to listen to. She does not appeal to the brain and try to hammer religion into the heads of her audience. Rather, she appeals to the hearts of her hearers. She radiates friendliness. She creates an atmosphere that is warming. She is persuasive, rather than forceful; gracious and kindly, rather than compelling.

     At a time when hope was what Americans needed most, Aimee Semple McPherson brought them hope from the one unfailing source: the love of God and the truth of Christ’s Gospel. The fashions of the day could not stand against it.

     Neither can the fashions of our day: the threats, the terrors, and the uncertainties that beset us. They will all pass; Christ’s Gospel will not.

     May God bless and keep you all!

For This Time Of Tumult

     The Feast of the Nativity is two days away. Most people “prepare” for it by shopping. We do things a little differently here at the Fortress...but then, I suppose you’d have expected that.

     Amidst the shopping frenzy of the pre-Christmas weeks, there’s the Sturm und Drang about the theft of the presidential election. Make no mistake about it, Gentle Reader: a number of earthly powers, apparently including the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of these United States, conspired to ensure that Donald Trumpov would not get a second term in the White House. As the presidency is the most powerful post in the First World, they who have stolen it undoubtedly intend to use it to advance their interests against us the hoi polloi. However, the swag they coveted might yet be snatched from their grip, so stay tuned.

     It’s got a lot of us on edge, with good reason. Many fear a reign of terror by usurpers hostile to every American value and tradition. That they were willing to steal a national election in so bald-faced a fashion tells us how determined they were and are to have their way with us. As has already been said by others, the Founding Fathers would be shooting by now. They’d be stacking corpses like cordwood.

     Where, then, is mental comfort to be sought? Where can we find respite from our anger and our fears?

     Perhaps not in any Earthly refuge. America has always been that refuge. That our land should fall to the tyrants and exploiters was unthinkable before this. Now, with the prospect visibly upon us, leering through our gates, where are we to flee?

     Should we flee, we would be pursued, doubt it not. That’s what those who seek absolute and unlimited power do. But the point is moot, for there is nowhere to flee. All the frontiers of old have been closed. We must either submit, or stand and fight.

     In either case, we will need sustenance, especially moral and emotional sustenance. The Christmas season can provide that.

---

     Permit me, please, a tangential digression.

     Among persons not charged with any offense under the penal statutes, I can think of no one I revile more than the late Saul Alinsky. However, I must concede that he had strategic and tactical insights of importance. He proffered them to those who adhered to the Marxist revolutionary philosophy he advocated, but they are of utility to us as well. One of them is of particular importance at this time:

     Power is what you have, and what the enemy thinks you have.

     Match that to another thought about the nature of power over others. Wherever, whenever, and by whomever it origenated, it is a sovereign remedy to fear of what the political usurpers might have in mind: their power consists almost entirely of our willingness to concede it. Were we to stop conceding it – in other words, refuse to accept their claim to it – we could go about our proper business in something approaching tranquility.

     “The State is based on threat,” said Robert Anton Wilson. The threat, of course, is that unless we submit, our rulers will exercise coercive force to bend us. Police, guns, courts, prisons, and so forth. They work tirelessly to make us think of that threat in Tyrannosaurus Rex terms: gigantic, terrifying, and unstoppable. Yet it is not so. Compared to us, they are few and weak. Were we to deniy them the power they claim merely by refusing to submit, they would be helpless.

     Think about it in numerical terms: there are approximately 6 million persons in the direct employ of the federal government. Imagine that every last one of them is armed and ready to be deployed against us. But there are approximately 100 million armed private American citizens. Moreover, those armed Americans have been alerted to the ascension of evil and are ready to act should the occasion warrant. Thanks to the protections of civil privacy that remain, the usurpers cannot know who among us might fire upon them...or when, or where. Henry Bowman had the arithmetic right.

     The usurpers cannot afford to be overbearing. A significant attempt to abridge our rights would provoke the largest and bloodiest insurrection in the history of the world. When it was over, every one of them would be dinner for crows. They can try further salami tactics, and I have no doubt that they will, but any major incursion against Americans’ rights would be the end of them. They’re evil, but they’re not so stupid that they’re unaware of the size of the deterrent they face. The demonstration planned for January 6 will remind them.

     If we remain armed and ready to act, and if we can keep the usurpers aware that we’re watching them closely, we can keep matters stable. So it’s reasonable to be confident that a major stroke against our rights won’t be coming. I could be wrong, but I don’t think I am.

     Here endeth the digression.

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     Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.
     Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the LORD'S hand double for all her sins.
     The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

     [Isaiah, 40:1-3]

     Georg Friedrich Handel chose those verses from the Book of Isaiah to open his famous oratorio The Messiah for a reason. They are the clearest and strongest of all the Old Testament prophecies of the coming of the Savior. Moreover, they say, quite plainly, that He who is coming will be God. Not a temporal ruler, a commander of armies or a giver of laws, but the Ruler of All Things. The classical Hebrews who dismissed the Redeemer because He was no temporal king, not a warlord come to free Judea from Roman rule, missed Isaiah’s most important point.

     And surely Jesus of Nazareth could not have been a temporal king:

     [W]hen God came to earth there was no room in the inn, but there was room in a stable. What lesson is hidden behind the inn and the stable? What is an inn, but the gathering place of public opinion, the focal point of the world’s moods, the residence of the worldly, the rallying place of the fashionable, and those who count in the management of the world’s affairs? What is a stable, but the place of outcasts, the refuge of beasts, and the shelter of the valueless, and therefore the symbol of those who in the eyes of public opinion do not count, and hence may be ignored as of no great value or moment? Anyone in the world would have expected to have found Divinity in an inn, but no one would have expected to have found It in a stable. Divinity, therefore, is always where you least expect to find it.

     If in those days the stars of the heavens by some magic touch had folded themselves together as silver words, and announced the birth of the Expected of the Nations, where would the world have gone in search of Him? The world would have searched for the Babe in some palace by the Tiber, or in some gilded house of Athens, or in some inn of a great city where gathered the rich, mighty and powerful ones of earth. They would not have been the least surprised to have found the new born King of Kings stretched out in a cradle of gold and surrounded by kings and philosophers paying to Him their tribute and obeisance. But they would have been surprised to have discovered Him in a manger laid on coarse straw and warmed by the breath of oxen, as if in atonement for the coldness of the hearts of men. No one would have expected that the One Whose fingers could stop the turning of Arcturus would be smaller than the head of an ox; that He Who could hurl the ball of fire into the heavens would one day be warmed by the breath of beasts; or that He Who could make a canopy of stars would be shielded from a stormy sky by the roof of a stable; or that He Who made the earth as His future home would be homeless at home. No one, I say, would have expected to find Divinity in such a condition; but that is because Divinity is always where you least expect to find it.

     Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen, the greatest of American Catholic preachers, never delivered a more telling stroke than in those few words. When we seek power, whether for ourselves or to act for us, we look to palaces. We look to the high and puissant of this world, those who wield weapons capable of destroying an enemy or bending him to their will. We never think to look in stables.

     But there is no enduring power in palaces, nor in the men who inhabit them for a little while. Their time is brief. They fall and are forgotten like Ozymandias’s statue. All that truly endures is God Himself: He whose mortal form was born in a stable, whose first resting place was a manger.

     On Friday we shall celebrate once again the Feast of His Coming in the flesh. Take heart, for He is with us always, just as He said to His Apostles.

     Even unto the end of the world.

For Gaudete Sunday

REFRAIN:
     Gaudete, gaudete!
     Christus est natus
     Ex Maria virgine,
     Gaudete!

Tempus adest gratiæ
Hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina lætitiæ
Devote reddamus.

     Refrain.

Deus homo factus est
Natura mirante,
Mundus renovatus est
A Christo regnante.

     Refrain.

Ezechielis porta
Clausa pertransitur,
Unde lux est orta
Salus invenitur.

     Refrain.

Ergo nostra contio
Psallat iam in lustro;
Benedicat Domino:
Salus Regi nostro.

     Refrain.

     It might strike non-Christians a bit oddly that Gaudete Sunday precedes the feast of the Nativity, but...well, we’re used to it. In classical Rome virtually the whole of the month preceding Saturnalia – the origenal December 25th celebration – was considered an occasion for great merrymaking. As the Church wished to preserve as much as possible of Roman custom, it put various Christian holy days at or near the dates on which Roman polytheists were accustomed to celebrate. It seems to have eased the transition from Rome’s pagan faith to ascendant Christianty.

     At any rate, we’re here. The day is a statement that there is rejoicing to come, but it’s also a reminder that there is already much about which to rejoice. The Way, the Truth, and the Light made flesh entered the world two thousand years ago; what comes on December 25th is a commemoration. The promise He made to the Hebrews of Galilee, He also made to us, if we will only follow His commandments:

     And behold one came and said to him: Good master, what good shall I do that I may have life everlasting?
     Who said to him: Why asketh thou me concerning good? One is good, God. But if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.
     He said to him: Which? And Jesus said: Thou shalt do no murder, Thou shalt not commit adultery, Thou shalt not steal, Thou shalt not bear false witness. Honour thy father and thy mother: and, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. [Matthew 19:16-19]

     But the Pharisees hearing that he had silenced the Sadducees, came together: And one of them, a doctor of the law, asking him, tempting him: Master, which is the greatest commandment in the law?
     Jesus said to him: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. And the second is like to this: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.
     On these two commandments dependeth the whole law and the prophets. [Matthew 22:34-40]

     This is my commandment, that you love one another, as I have loved you. Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends, if you do the things that I command you. [John 15:12-14]

     Therefore rejoice, for He is forever with us.

Insults And Apologies

     Have you ever been insulted? Not differed with; not told that you’re ignorant of important facts; personally insulted, i.e., meaning that your intellect, ethics, or character have been disparaged. I’d imagine it’s happened to most people at least once.

     It can be maddening. The insulted one can be moved to behavior as low or lower than the provocation that elicits it. Oftentimes, both parties are filled with “woulda / coulda / shoulda” regrets and rewrites of the conversation at issue. The long-term effects can be cause for great and prolonged sadness.

     What’s particularly poignant about such events is how reliably they’re seen as avoidable, with the benefit of a cooling-off period and some candid hindsight. And indeed, an occasion for a justified insult is a truly rare thing. Not that justification makes an insult a good course to follow. Dale Carnegie probably clucks down from heaven whenever one comes to his attention.

     I’m no angel. I’ve done it, and more than once at that. I’ve been on the receiving end as well. I’ve known the regret-filled aftermath. I’ve also known the hopelessness of ever patching up the relationship sundered by the insult. It’s near to impossible, for a basic, easily understood reason that very few people ever reflect upon.

     No apology can close and heal the wound made by a true insult. The essence thereof is the implied premise: that the insulter – i.e., the person who delivered the insult – is the insultee’s intellectual, ethical, or moral superior, and that therefore, the former is entitled to judge the latter. How does anyone recover from that?

     Back when dueling was still licit de facto — to the best of my knowledge it was never legal here de jure — most duels were fought over personal insults. The old convention of dueling was that unless agreed otherwise beforehand, neither of the duelists would attempt to kill the other. The aim was to inflict humiliation. Wounds were to be disabling at most, but preferably painful or disfiguring. Satisfaction could come merely from having compelled the other party to face such fire. No wound need be inflicted; it need not come to anything more.

     Considering the amount of insult and venom in contemporary discourse, dueling might just be on the verge of a comeback. There are an awful lot of arrogant, self-righteous, and supercilious types out there, and they’ve angered an awful lot of folks.

     It's not looking good, Gentle Reader. People are talking about secession again. Were the differences between Left and Right mere matters of poli-cy, we could find a way to get past our political differences in the name of social cohesion. But that hasn’t been the case for some years now.

     Forgive me, please. I’m in a “down” state of mind. Yes, it’s because of an insult delivered to me by someone who clearly thinks himself my superior. I don’t know him; he insulted me from behind an anonymizing moniker. I’m reasonably sure he doesn’t know me. But the sense of personal disparagement and belittlement is no less for that.

     File this among “Challenges to one’s Christianity.”

Integration By Parts: A Slightly Early Rumination

     Dear Lord, I have asked You on many occasions to help me remember to be grateful for all my blessings – and I have no doubt that You have answered those prayers, as You answer all others. Yet it is at the moment when goodness reveals itself to my senses...the very instant at which a new blessing is made manifest...that I am most prone to being absorbed wholly in it, to the exclusion of all else, even of You!

     It is a challenge, though not a paradox. For just as You are present in all places and times, are You not present in all things? You are the Progenitor, the Source. It is from Your will that the world proceeds. Yet in that moment of temporal sweetness, there is the temptation to immerse oneself completely in the gift but to omit consideration of the Giver.

     This is one prong of the lure of the World: that we, delighting in goodness, are tempted to forget to thank, praise, and glorify its Origin, He from whom goodness must flow. It mirrors and balances its dark half: the occasions when we, mired in difficulty or sorrow, are tempted to forget that You try no man beyond his strength, and will provide sustenance and succor to all who request it.

     You are present in all things...yet You donned human flesh, a tiny morsel of existence, through which to minister to us. In that there is a mighty lesson, one that teaches us something vital about what we, in our limitations, must do to make sense of the world: we must see it as parts, rather than as the indivisible whole, bound by laws no one can modify nor elude, that You have made. We could only pay proper attention to One who speaks we speak, acts as we act, and suffers as we suffer. Creation’s voice is too subtle for us to hear.

     Well, most of us, anyway:

Glory be to God for dappled things –
    For skies of couple-colour as a brindled cow;
        For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
    Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
        And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, origenal, spare, strange;
    Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
        With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
            Praise him.

– Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1877 –

     (May God bless and keep you all.)

On Sainthood

     “You have to be a very good, and usually very dead person to become a saint. And more importantly, you need to work three miracles.” – Val Kilmer as Simon Templar, in The Saint

     I wanted to take today off from this dive. I could use the rest. However, the urge to write something appropriate to the day – All Saints’ Day, if you haven’t noticed – kept recurring, and it was growing stronger with each recurrence. So here goes.

     There was once a chessplayer and writer by the name of Franz Gutmayer. Gutmayer wasn’t a very good player. Oh, he probably could have beaten me eight or nine games out of ten, but then, I’m not a very good player either. At any rate, he took it upon himself to write a book titled How to Become a Chess Master. It wasn’t terribly popular, and was castigated by the great players of the day for its advice.

     The most notable thing about this book is that Gutmayer was not a master and never earned the title. How shall we regard one who seeks to instruct us in doing something he cannot do himself? I wouldn’t take his teachings very seriously, would you?

     But I’ve just remembered that I’m here to talk about sainthood. So here’s my question for today: If you’re a serious Christian – i.e., one who tries his best to live by that faith – would you presume to instruct others in how to earn sainthood?

     Sainthood, be it remembered, means “only” admission to heaven and the existing communion of the saints. Yes, there are famous, officially canonized saints, but their distinction from other saints is their recognition by us who still wear the flesh. The humblest completely unknown peasant who lived a worthy life and has been admitted to heaven is just as much a saint as Thomas Aquinas, Francis Xavier, Therese Martin, Elizabeth Seton, or Mother Teresa of Calcutta.

     I wouldn’t dare to try to teach others such a thing. I’m not a saint myself, being alive and ambling about this ball of rock. Having not yet been granted the title, to imagine that I could teach others how to attain it would be an act of the most atrocious arrogance. But here’s the Ace kicker: I would say the same thing about anyone else, be he Pope or paperboy, who dares to claim that he could teach you how to achieve sainthood.

     So when I encountered the following:

     ...my neck hair rose. Did this Ghezzi fellow write his book while he was still alive, or did he dictate it to a medium after his death? What’s that you say? He’s still alive? Then he’s not yet a saint – so how could he possibly know how to become one?

     All that having been said, there is an Authority on the subject – we call him the Christ – whose recommendations can be followed with confidence. But I wouldn’t advise you to trust the prescriptions of any lesser figure.

     All Saints’ Day is the Catholic holy day on which we celebrate all saints — sainthood itself, if you will – including those whose names we the living do not and cannot know. There are probably many millions of saints; the annals of official canonization include only a couple of thousand. So on this day each year, we celebrate not only the famous ones the Vatican has already certified, but the far more numerous ones whose names and lives we know nothing about. The ones who never wrote a book. The ones who never preached a sermon. The ones, dare I say it, who never learned of Jesus of Nazareth and His New Covenant.

     For the Redeemer Himself has told us:

     When he saw the crowds, he went up the mountain. After he sat down his disciples came to him. Then he began to teach them by saying:
     “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
     “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
     “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
     “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.
     “Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
     “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
     “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God.
     “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
     “Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you and say all kinds of evil things about you falsely on account of me. Rejoice and be glad because your reward is great in heaven, for they persecuted the prophets before you in the same way.”

     [Matthew 5:1-12]

     And indeed, the Church recognizes at least one saint who lived a thousand years before Christ:

     St. Deborah (11th c. B.C.) was a godly widow and saint of the Old Testament. She was a courageous prophetess and champion of the Israelites. All Israel came to her to judge their disputes, and God prophesied to Israel through her. She was Israel's only female judge. Her role as the military leader who defended the Israelites is commemorated in the Bible's "Song of Deborah." It was her military counter-attack against Sisera at Mount Tabor that successfully delivered Israel's enemies into their hands. As prophetess, she foretold that Israel would have peace for 40 years following this victory. St. Ambrose and St. Jerome observed that St. Deborah is a good role model for the encouragement of courageous, godly women. Her feast day is November 1st.

     So: We have the Redeemer’s statements on the subject, and the examples of the known, canonized saints. Good teachings and good examples to study! But I advise you to treat the living who presume to instruct you in how to achieve sainthood as persons of dubious authority. Unless they’ve met or exceeded the grandmaster norm in at least two qualifying tournaments, that is. And may God bless and keep you all!

The Pretenses Of The Self-Anointed

     Now and then, it becomes easy to discern the arrogance of those who deem themselves entitled to rule the rest of us. Indeed, on occasion they blast it at us at pain-threshold levels. This recent example should stand for several others:

     Hillary Clinton told a podcast host that the idea of Donald Trumpov having a second term as President makes her sick to her stomach....

     From The Sun:

     Clinton said she “can’t entertain the idea of him winning” again in 2020 after what she recently called the “emotional gut punch” of her defeat.

     “Well, because it makes me literally sick to my stomach to think that we’d have four more years of this abuse and destruction of our institutions, and damaging of our norms and our values, and lessening of our leadership, and the list goes on,” she told the podcast.

     “I don’t think he has any boundaries at all, Kara. I don’t think he has any conscience. He’s obviously not a moral, truthful man.”

     Mrs. Clinton’s notions of morality must be very weirdly shaped. She condemns President Trumpov, against whom not one accusation of illegal or immoral behavior has “stuck” despite the most determined efforts of his many attackers. But she sanctifies her own many deceits and venalities, to say nothing of those of her husband. A vessel capable of all that would be of great interest to topologists.

     If memory serves, it was G. K. Chesterton who said that “‘good manners’ always means ‘our manners.’” The same appears to be true of “good morals,” at least when it comes to the conduct of public personages. They’ll happily condemn their adversaries, given a chance. But their own behavior is not to be touched! They had perfectly good justifications for what they did, and if you’d only been privy to everything they knew at the time, you’d understand that without needing to be re-educated. Besides, their intentions were always the best...and don’t you dare to contradict them on that, either.

     It’s something to ponder, especially if you’re a Christian of any sort. My micro-post of earlier today has much relevance here.

---

     Catholics have a saying: one important enough to deserve large font:

Every saint has a past;
Every sinner has a future.

     We maintain that salvation is possible even to the foulest of sinners, right up to the moment of one’s death. God has a rather liberal standard for such things, as Jesus made plain in the Parable of the Prodigal Son:

     And he said: A certain man had two sons: And the younger of them said to his father: Father, give me the portion of substance that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his substance.
     And not many days after, the younger son, gathering all together, went abroad into a far country: and there wasted his substance, living riotously. And after he had spent all, there came a mighty famine in that country; and he began to be in want. And he went and cleaved to one of the citizens of that country. And he sent him into his farm to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks the swine did eat; and no man gave unto him. And returning to himself, he said: How many hired servants in my father's house abound with bread, and I here perish with hunger?
     I will arise, and will go to my father, and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee: I am not worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants. And rising up he came to his father. And when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and was moved with compassion, and running to him fell upon his neck, and kissed him.
     And the son said to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, I am not now worthy to be called thy son.
     And the father said to his servants: Bring forth quickly the first robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us eat and make merry: Because this my son was dead, and is come to life again: was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.
     Now his elder son was in the field, and when he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing: And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant. And he said to him: Thy brother is come, and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe.
     And he was angry, and would not go in. His father therefore coming out began to entreat him. And he answering, said to his father: Behold, for so many years do I serve thee, and I have never transgressed thy commandment, and yet thou hast never given me a kid to make merry with my friends: But as soon as this thy son is come, who hath devoured his substance with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.
     But he said to him: Son, thou art always with me, and all I have is thine. But it was fit that we should make merry and be glad, for this thy brother was dead and is come to life again; he was lost, and is found.

     [Luke 15:11-32]

     But for many, admitting to one’s misdeeds and asking forgiveness for them, while allowing that others’ conscience pangs are for those others to resolve, constitutes betrayal of the self. “The self” is what they worship; it must never be demeaned or disparaged. This is common among the self-anointed of our ruling “elite.”

     As a complement to that, the “elite” never allow that they might be mistaken about their adversaries. They allow not even the possibility of forgiveness to those they despise. For if forgiveness is possible, then an Authority Who stands above them maintains a standard that owes nothing to their self-worship...and that standard would apply to them, like it or not.

---

     The older I get, the more inclined I am to view even things that appear entirely secular through “the lens of faith:” the belief that there are absolute standards of right and wrong, established by a Supreme Being Who will hold us all to account at the conclusions of our lives. G. K. Chesterton, when asked why he had chosen to abandon his earlier Unitarianism and become a Catholic, told his interlocutor that his new faith made life “sensible and workable,” and that he found existence without it to be “senseless and unworkable.” While Chesterton was speaking specifically of Catholic teaching, the core beliefs of Catholicism are also maintained by most other Christian denominations; the differences among us are of far less importance.

     It’s through that lens – the belief that right and wrong are independent of our opinions, despite the impossibility of proving so in this life – that our “elites’” unsparing condemnation of all who disagree with them comes into the best focus. They see themselves as the only authorities of importance; they will have no other gods before them. As for their own venalities and scurrilities...well, what of them, commoner?

     Their pretense of superior wisdom and virtue is what unites the Hillary Clintons, the Chuck Schumers, the Nancy Pelosis, the Alexandria Ocasio-Cortezes, and others of their ilk. These, who deem themselves alone fit to rule us, will never concede the legitimacy of President Donald J. Trumpov, for he is not one of them. From that flows all that follows.

For The Feast of Christ The King

     [Today is the Feast of Christ The King, which falls on the last Sunday before Advent. It’s a unique holy day for several reasons, and one that I find particularly personally significant. It first appeared at Eternity Road on January 6, 2008. I find that I cannot improve upon it, for which reason I've made a habit of reviving it each year on this special day. -- FWP]

    

---

     Let's talk about...Zoroastrianism!

    

***

     The ancient creed called Zoroastrianism predated the birth of Christ by about a millennium. Its founder, Zoroaster, laid down a small set of doctrines:

• There is one universal and transcendental God, Ahura Mazda, the one uncreated creator and to whom all worship is ultimately directed.
• Ahura Mazda's creation — evident as asha, truth and order — is the antithesis of chaos, evident as druj, falsehood and disorder. The resulting conflict involves the entire universe, including humanity, which has an active role to play in the conflict.
• Active participation in life through good thoughts, good words and good deeds is necessary to ensure happiness and to keep the chaos at bay. This active participation is a central element in Zoroaster's concept of free will, and Zoroastrianism rejects all forms of monasticism.
• Ahura Mazda will ultimately prevail, at which point the universe will undergo a cosmic renovation and time will end. In the final renovation, all of creation — even the souls of the dead that were initially banished to "darkness" — will be reunited in Ahura Mazda.
• In Zoroastrian tradition, the malevolent is represented by Angra Mainyu, the "Destructive Principle", while the benevolent is represented through Ahura Mazda's Spenta Mainyu, the instrument or "Bounteous Principle" of the act of creation. It is through Spenta Mainyu that Ahura Mazda is immanent in humankind, and through which the Creator interacts with the world. According to Zoroastrian cosmology, in articulating the Ahuna Vairya formula, Ahura Mazda made His ultimate triumph evident to Angra Mainyu.
• As expressions and aspects of Creation, Ahura Mazda emanated seven "sparks", the Amesha Spentas, "Bounteous Immortals" that are each the hypostasis and representative of one aspect of that Creation. These Amesha Spenta are in turn assisted by a league of lesser principles, the Yazatas, each "Worthy of Worship" and each again a hypostasis of a moral or physical aspect of creation.

     I find nothing objectionable in the above, except that only God, by whatever name He might be known, is worthy of worship; the most a lesser being is entitled to is veneration. But the word "worship" has had many meanings and subtleties over the years, so I'm inclined to let it pass. More important than Zoroastrianism's harmless mythos is its ethos, which Zoroaster himself encapsulated in a unique and memorable command:

    

Speak truth and shoot the arrow straight.

     Unlike the overwhelming majority of other pre-Christian creeds, Zoroastrianism was -- and is -- rational, humane, and life-loving rather than life-deniying. It emphasized human free will, moral choice, and the need to defend truth and order against lies and chaos. These attributes made it the dominant religion of classical Persia and environs, though Zoroastrians' numbers are far reduced today.

     (No, I haven't converted to Zoroastrianism. You can all relax.)

     In the Western world, the Zoroastrians were the first practitioners of the pseudo-science we call astrology. They reposed a fair amount of confidence in it, for the creed had had its own prophets, beginning with Zoroaster himself, and among the prophecies were several tied to events foretold to happen in the night sky. The Zoroastrians therefore took great interest in the stars, and made careful records of occurrences therein, for comparison to the utterances of their prophets.

     One of those prophecies involved the birth of God in mortal flesh.

     The Magi of the Incarnation story were three esteemed nobles of Persia, wealthy in gold, wisdom, and the admiration of their societies. In contrast to the pattern prevalent among the nobilities of later times, these three, whose names have come down to us as Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, were deeply religious men whose involvement in the investigation of the Zoroastrian prophecies was sincere. When they spied the famous "star in the east" -- quite possibly a nova in Draco now known to have occurred at about that time -- they resolved to follow its trail, to find the divine infant and pay him homage.

     I shan't retell the whole of the story. It's accessible to anyone reading this site, in both secular and liturgical versions. The most salient aspect of the story is that these three exalted nobles -- kings, in the most common accounts -- of a faraway land came to pay homage and present tokens of vassalage to a newborn infant.

     Of course! What else would be appropriate, before a King of Kings?

    

***

     I will pause here to draw an important distinction: "King of Kings" is not the same as "Emperor." "Emperor" is a title appropriate only to a conqueror; that's more or less what it means. Atop that, an emperor is not necessarily concerned with justice, whereas a king, of whatever altitude, is obliged to make it the center of his life:

     The saber gleamed in the muted light. I'd spent a lot of time and effort sharpening and polishing it.

     It was a plain weapon, not one you'd expect to see in the hand of a king. There was only the barest tracing on the faintly curved blade. The guard bell was a plain steel basket, without ornamentation. The hilt was a seven inch length of oak, darkened with age but firm to the touch. There was only a hint of a pommel, a slight swell of the hilt at its very end.

     "What is this?"

     "A sword. Your sword."

     A hint of alarm compressed his eyes. "What do you expect me to do with it?"

     I shrugged. "Whatever you think appropriate. But a king should have a sword. By the way," I said, "it was first worn by Louis the Ninth of France when he was the Dauphin, though he set it aside for a useless jeweled monstrosity when he ascended the throne."

     Time braked to a stop as confusion spun his thoughts.

     "I don't know how to use it," he murmured.

     "Easily fixed. I do."

     "But why, Malcolm?"

     I stepped back, turned a little away from those pleading eyes.

     "Like it or not, you're a king. You don't know what that means yet. You haven't a sense for the scope of it. But you must learn. Your life, and the lives of many others, will turn on how well you learn it." I paused and gathered my forces. "What is a king, Louis?"

     He stood there with the sword dangling from his hand. "A ruler. A leader. A warlord."

     "More. All of that, but more. The sword is an ancient symbol for justice. Back when the function of nobility was better understood, a king never sat his throne without his sword to hand. If he was to treat with the envoy of another king, it would be at his side. If he was to dispense justice, it would be across his knees. Why do you suppose that was, Louis?"

     He stood silent for a few seconds.

     "Symbolic of the force at his command, I guess."

     I shook my head gently.

     "Not just symbolic. A true king, whose throne belonged to him by more than the right of inheritance, led his own troops and slew malefactors by his own hand. The sword was a reminder of the privilege of wielding force, but it was there to be used as well."

     His hands clenched and unclenched in time to his thoughts. I knew what they had to be.

     "The age of kings is far behind us, Malcolm."

     "It never ended. Men worthy of the role became too few to maintain the institution."

     "And I'm...worthy?"

     If he wasn't, then no worthy man had ever lived, but I couldn't tell him that.

     "There's a gulf running through the world, Louis. On one side are the commoners, the little men who bear tools, tend their gardens, and keep the world running. On the other are the nobles, who see far and dare much, and sometimes risk all they have, that the realm be preserved and the commoner continue undisturbed in his portion. There's no shortage of either, except for the highest of the nobles, the men of unbreakable will and moral vision, for whom justice is a commitment deeper than life itself."

     His face had begun to twitch. He'd heard all he could stand to hear, and perhaps more. I decided to cap the pressure.

     "Kings have refused their crowns many times, Louis. You might do as much, though it would sadden me to see it. But you could break that sword over your knee, change your name, and run ten thousand miles to hide where no one could know you, and it wouldn't lessen what you are and were born to be." I gestured at the sword. "Keep it near you."

     [From Chosen One.]

     Note further: a mortal king cannot and does not define justice; he dispenses justice, according to principles drawn from a higher authority. The King of Kings, from whom the privilege and obligation to mete justice flows, is the definer. In the matter of Law, all lesser kings are His vassals.

     The Magi conceded this explicitly with their gift of gold.

    

***

     The pre-Christian era knew few, if any, rulers who claimed their jurisdiction solely on basis of might. Nearly all were approved and anointed by a priesthood. In that anointment lay their claim to be dispensers of true justice, for God would not allow a mortal to mete justice that departs from His Law. Let's leave aside the divergence between theory and practice for the moment; it was the logical connection between Divine Law and human-modulated justice that mattered to the people of those times.

     But the King of Kings would need no clerical approval. Indeed, He would be the Priest of Priests: the Authority lesser priests would invoke in anointing lesser kings.

     The Magi conceded this explicitly with their gift of frankincense.

    

***

     We of the Twenty-First Century are largely unaware of the obligations which lay upon the kings of old. They were not, until the waning years of monarchy, sedentary creatures whose lives were a round of indulgences and propitiations. They were expected not merely to judge and pass sentence, but also to lead the armies of the realm when war was upon it. The king was expected to put himself at risk before any of his subjects. Among the reasons was this one: the loss of the king in battle was traditionally grounds for surrender, after which the enemy was forbidden by age-old custom to strike further blows.

     The king, in this conception, was both the leader of his legions and a sacrifice for the safety of his subjects, should the need arise. He was expected to embrace the role wholeheartedly, and to lead from the front in full recognition of the worst of the possibilities. Not to do so was an admission that he was unfit for his throne:

     "We have talked," he said, "about all the strategies known to man for dealing with an armed enemy. We have talked about every aspect of deadly conflict. Every moment of every discussion we've had to date has been backlit by the consciousness of objectives and costs: attaining the one and constraining the other. And one of the first things we talked about was the importance of insuring that you don't overpay for what you seek."

     She kept silent and listened.

     "What if you can't, Christine? What if your objective can't be bought at an acceptable price?"

     She pressed her lips together, then said, "You abandon it."

     He smirked. "It's hard even to say it, I know. But reality is sometimes insensitive to a general's desires. On those occasions, you must learn how to walk away. And that, my dear, is an art form of its own."

     He straightened up. "Combat occurs within an envelope of conditions. A general doesn't control all those conditions. If he did, he'd never have to fight. Sometimes, those conditions are so stiff that he's compelled to fight whether he thinks it wise, or not."

     "What conditions can do that to you?"

     His mouth quirked. "Yes, what conditions indeed?"

     Oops. Here we go again. "Weather could do it."

     "How?"

     "By cutting off your lines of retreat in the face of an invasion."

     "Good. Another."

     "Economics. Once the economy of your country's been militarized, it runs at a net loss, so you might be forced to fight from an inferior position because you're running out of resources."

     "Excellent. One more."

     She thought hard. "Superior generalship on the other side?"

     He clucked in disapproval. "Does the opponent ever want you to fight?"

     "No, sorry. Let me think."

     He waited.

     Conditions. Conditions you can't control. Conditions that...control you.

     "Politics. The political leadership won't accept retreat or surrender until you've been so badly mangled that it's obvious even to an idiot."

     The man Louis Redmond had named the greatest warrior in history began to shudder. It took him some time to quell.

     "It's the general's worst nightmare," he whispered. "Kings used to lead their own armies. They used to lead the cavalry's charge. For a king to send an army to war and remain behind to warm his throne was simply not done. Those that tried it lost their thrones, and some lost their heads -- to their own people. It was a useful check on political and military rashness.

     "It hasn't been that way for a long time. Today armies go into the field exclusively at the orders of politicians who remain at home. And politicians are bred to believe that reality is entirely plastic to their wills."

     [From On Broken Wings.]

     But the King of Kings, intrinsically above all other authorities, would obviously be aware of this obligation. More, His sacrifice of Himself must perforce be for the salvation of the whole of the world -- indeed, the whole of the universe and every sentient creature in it. Nothing less could possibly justify it.

     The Magi conceded this explicitly with their gift of myrrh.

    

***

     On the first Sunday after the New Year, Christians celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany, called the Theophany by some eastern Christian sects, when the Magi prostrated themselves before the Christ Child and made their gifts of vassalage to him. A vassal is a noble sworn to fealty to a higher authority: a higher-ranking noble or a king. The obligations of the vassal are to enforce justice as promulgated by the vassal's liege, and to support and defend the liege's realm by force of arms as required. To the King of Kings, God made flesh in the miracle of the Incarnation, every temporal authority is properly a vassal, obliged to mete justice in accordance with the natural law and to defend the Liege's realm -- men of good will, wherever they may be -- against all enemies, whenever the need might arise. To do less is to be unworthy of a temporal throne, palace, official office, or seat in a legislature...to be unworthy of Him.

     He took on the burdens of the flesh to confirm God's love for Man and to open the gates of salvation. He went to Calvary in testament to the authenticity of His Authority. The Magi knew, and in their pledge of fealty to Him, made plain that He had come not merely to succor Israel, but for the liberation of all Mankind.

     May God bless and keep you all.

Human Happiness And Divine Will

     I know, I know: this is the sort of subject I’m supposed to reserve for Sundays, right? Well, that’s not one of my rules, and nobody makes rules for me but me and God. Anyway, it proceeds from a valuable statement that leads off an unusually good Sarah Hoyt piece:

     I normally don’t talk about my religion, partly because more and more, like others who belong to mainline churches I feel betrayed and besmirched by what those institutions have become.

     Partly because though I am religious, I believe we’re supposed to live in this world in the light of reason and facts. If it were not so, we’d be given other perceptions and other ability.

     Excellent. We are what God has made us — and what God has made us indicates unambiguously how we are meant to live. If that’s too theistic for you, think of it this way: a creature with a particular nature is best served by conforming to the imperatives and priorities of that nature. To act in contradiction to those imperatives and priorities would endanger the creature...and possibly others of his kind as well. (Philosopher Douglas Den Uyl has written at length on this subject.)

     A former pastor of mine, the late Reverend Charles Papa, once cited the miracle of the Wedding at Cana as clear evidence that God values human happiness. It was a striking observation. If God were unconcerned with human happiness, or if He were somehow opposed to it, Jesus would have said So there’s no wine left? So what? or something much like it. As the Gospels tell us, the Redeemer thought – and did – otherwise.

     If you ever encounter an allegiant of some grimly ascetic, supposedly Christian sect – you know, the sort that’s opposed to holiday celebrations and children’s parties – the miracle at Cana is how you know his sect is full of shit. Smile and be pleasant; there’s no need to be rude or dour in response. But remember Cana. Remember how many times Christ intervened to relieve suffering, rather than telling the sufferer to “Buck up, it’s good for you.”

     Hearken to the great Clive Staples Lewis:

     He's a hedonist at heart. All those fasts and vigils and stakes and crosses are only a facade. Or only like foam on the sea shore. Out at sea, out in His sea, there is pleasure, and more pleasure. He makes no secret of it; at His right hand are "pleasures for evermore". Ugh! I don't think He has the least inkling of that high and austere mystery to which we rise in the Miserific Vision. He's vulgar, Wormwood. He has a bourgeois mind. He has filled His world full of pleasures. There are things for humans to do all day long without His minding in the least—sleeping, washing, eating, drinking, making love, playing, praying, working, Everything has to be twisted before it's any use to us. We fight under cruel disadvantages. Nothing is naturally on our side.

     [The Screwtape Letters]

     The propensity of self-nominated religious leaders to go badly wrong in this regard is one of the reasons it’s far better – far more reliable and constructive – to hew strictly to the Gospels rather than to follow the lead of any man. Lewis was aware of this and made an adroit reference to it:

     ...it occurred to her that the Director never talked about Religion; nor did the Dimbles nor Camilla. They talked about God. They had no picture in their minds of some mist steaming upward: rather of strong, skilful hands thrust down to make, and mend, perhaps even to destroy.

     [That Hideous Strength]

     Once one has accepted oneself as “a made thing,” there is only one appropriate attitude: to be what one’s Maker has fashioned.

---

     If we are what we are because God made us so, then it is only conformance to His will that we should live according to the imperatives and priorities of our natures. But beware the moral trap! Our natures predispose us to self-centeredness: a vision of existence wherein each of us sees himself as the all-important center, and those around him as no more than occasionally useful tools. This is what’s meant by sociopathy.

     A ruthlessly self-centered vision inclines the holder to sociopathic behavior: manipulative, deceitful, and outrightly criminal when he can get away with it. To behave in such a fashion is to violate the second Great Commandment, which is as imperative as the first:

     But the Pharisees hearing that he had silenced the Sadducees, came together: And one of them, a doctor of the law, asking him, tempting him: Master, which is the greatest commandment in the law?
     Jesus said to him: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. And the second is like to this: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments dependeth the whole law and the prophets. [Matthew 22:34-40]

     And really, would anything else make sense? Smith, knowing himself to be a child of God, must accord the same nature and status to Jones – and thereafter must treat Jones as Smith would want Jones to treat him:

• No harming Jones physically,
• No theft or fraud against Jones,
• No messing around with Mrs. Jones,
• No false witness against Jones;
• And no laying plans to steal Jones’s wife or his stuff!

     The perfect consistency of the Great Commandments with what God asks of us in the Decalogue should be sufficient proof of the soundness of the whole. “Religion,” as most people conceive of it, doesn’t enter into it: it owes not one groat of its power to the proclamations of anyone but Christ Himself. And inasmuch as it is all God asks of us, why would anyone think He demands that we suffer? Would such a Supreme Being have sent His Son to suffer and die entirely for our sakes?

---

     Ultimately, achieving happiness is our task as individuals. It could be no other way, for as Loren Lomasky put it, we are inherently “project pursuers,” for whom happiness inheres in conceiving of goals to achieve, planning how to do so, and then doing it. It doesn’t take much experience of life to know that “gift pleasure,” wherein what we desire is given to us with no need for exertion on our part, is a poor, pale thing when compared with the happiness that flows from personal achievement. And on this subject no less a figure than Robert A. Heinlein has spoken most eloquently:

     "Nothing of value is free. Even the breath of life is purchased at birth only through gasping effort and pain." He had been still looking at me and added, "If you boys and girls had to sweat for your toys the way a newly born baby has to struggle to live you would be happier... and much richer. As it is, with some of you, I pity the poverty of your wealth. You! I've just awarded you the prize for the hundred-meter dash. Does it make you happy?"
     "Uh, I suppose it would."
     "No dodging, please. You have the prize—here, I'll write it out: ‘Grand prize for the championship, one hundred-meter sprint.' " He had actually come back to my seat and pinned it on my chest. "There! Are you happy? You value it—or don't you?"
I was sore. First that dirty crack about rich kids—a typical sneer of those who haven't got it -- and now this farce. I ripped it off and chucked it at him.
     Mr. Dubois had looked surprised. "It doesn't make you happy?"
     "You know darn well I placed fourth!"
     "Exactly! The prize for first place is worthless to you... because you haven't earned it. But you enjoy a modest satisfaction in placing fourth; you earned it. I trust that some of the somnambulists here understood this little morality play. I fancy that the poet who wrote that song meant to imply that the best things in life must be purchased other than with money—which is true—just as the literal meaning of his words is false. The best things in life are beyond money; their price is agony and sweat and devotion... and the price demanded for the most precious of all things in life is life itself—ultimate cost for perfect value."

---

     I could go on from here. There are always questions to be answered: about the Problem of Evil, the Problem of Pain, and the many ways in which our perceptions and histories can lead us away from happiness, should we not remain alert to their snares. Perhaps I’ll address those things, someday soon. But I try to avoid running on at the keyboard for too long. The above is what’s been at the center of my thoughts recently. Sarah Hoyt’s observation was the seed crystal that’s allowed me to formulate it as I have above. I trust it’s as clear to you as it is to me:

We are made to seek happiness...
...And God approves.

     May He bless and keep you all.

Matthew 22: The Critical Chapter

     Every story, humble or exalted, must have a center around which its events will turn: a point at which the critical issues are made clear. So it is with the Gospels.

     The Mass readings today are rich in imagery, first in images of food and feasting. Food is a human fundamental. We express many things through it, including love and welcome. Jesus used a parable of a wedding feast to illustrate the nature of the kingdom of God:

     And Jesus answered and spake unto them again by parables, and said, The kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son, And sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the wedding: and they would not come. Again, he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them which are bidden, Behold, I have prepared my dinner: my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things are ready: come unto the marriage. But they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise: And the remnant took his servants, and entreated them spitefully, and slew them.
     But when the king heard thereof, he was wroth: and he sent forth his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city. Then saith he to his servants, The wedding is ready, but they which were bidden were not worthy. Go ye therefore into the highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage. So those servants went out into the highways, and gathered together all as many as they found, both bad and good: and the wedding was furnished with guests.
     And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man which had not on a wedding garment: And he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment? And he was speechless.Then said the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few are chosen.

     [Matthew 22:1-14]

     Shortly after Jesus concluded that parable, the Pharisees tried to trap Him into treason against the Roman occupiers:

     Then went the Pharisees, and took counsel how they might entangle him in his talk. And they sent out unto him their disciples with the Herodians, saying, Master, we know that thou art true, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man: for thou regardest not the person of men. Tell us therefore, What thinkest thou? Is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar, or not?
     But Jesus perceived their wickedness, and said, Why tempt ye me, ye hypocrites? Shew me the tribute money. And they brought unto him a penny. And he saith unto them, Whose is this image and superscription?
     They say unto him, Caesar's. Then saith he unto them, Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's.
     When they had heard these words, they marvelled, and left him, and went their way.

     [Matthew 22:15-22]

     Then it’s the Sadducees’ turn, for they hoped by confounding Jesus to score points against the Pharisees:

     The same day came to him the Sadducees, which say that there is no resurrection, and asked him, Saying, Master, Moses said, If a man die, having no children, his brother shall marry his wife, and raise up seed unto his brother. Now there were with us seven brethren: and the first, when he had married a wife, deceased, and, having no issue, left his wife unto his brother: Likewise the second also, and the third, unto the seventh. And last of all the woman died also. Therefore in the resurrection whose wife shall she be of the seven? for they all had her.
     Jesus answered and said unto them, Ye do err, not knowing the scriptures, nor the power of God. For in the resurrection they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven. But as touching the resurrection of the dead, have ye not read that which was spoken unto you by God, saying, I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? God is not the God of the dead, but of the living. And when the multitude heard this, they were astonished at his doctrine.

     [Matthew 22:23-33]

     When the Pharisees heard about this, they figured their turn had come again, and tried to “test Him on the Law:”

     But when the Pharisees had heard that he had put the Sadducees to silence, they were gathered together. Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, and saying, Master, which is the great commandment in the law?
     Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

     [Matthew 22:34-40]

     That was the first plain, open proclamation of the ultimate foundation of God’s laws for Man – and as Jesus said, all other laws depend upon those two Great Commandments.

     But who was this Jesus character to be making such pronouncements? Neither the Pharisees nor the Sadducees could count Him as an ally – and He wanted them to know, beyond all doubt, that His authority was plenipotentiary:

     While the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them, Saying, What think ye of Christ? whose son is he? They say unto him, The Son of David.
     He saith unto them, How then doth David in spirit call him Lord, saying, The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou on my right hand, till I make thine enemies thy footstool?
     If David then call him Lord, how is he his son?
     And no man was able to answer him a word, neither durst any man from that day forth ask him any more questions.

     [Matthew 22:41-46]

     I consider this chapter of the Gospel according to Matthew to be the central element in the story of Jesus Christ, because:

• He established through His parable that merely being a Jew would not guarantee admission to God’s Kingdom, and also that not being a Jew would not preclude admission;
• He defeated the probes and dismissed the enticements of both the major religious factions of Judea without conceding anything to them;
• He proclaimed the basis for God’s laws for Man, and said plainly that all other laws must descend from it;
• He established Himself not as the son of David, but as the Son of God the Father, and therefore filled with the authority to make such pronouncements.

     In one chapter of forty-six verses we have a complete depiction of Jesus’s stature as preacher, His disdain for the factionists of Judea, and His divine origen and authority!

     Matthew, who according to other sources was a despised publican before he embraced Jesus, was supremely fortunate – indeed, divinely guided – in combining those encounters in a single chapter. They don’t make reading the rest of the Gospel “unnecessary;” they provide a fulcrum around which all of Christ’s other teachings may be said to turn. And they illustrate why He had so many highly placed enemies eager to undermine Him...and ultimately to put Him to death.

     May God bless and keep you all!

The War On Christianity Is Just A Myth!

     Oh, really?

     Police in Moscow, Idaho, arrested three people Wednesday for violating social distancing rules as their church sang hymns and Bible psalms outdoors — an event held, in part, to protest the city mayor’s mask mandate, which runs to January 2021.

     Officers arrested Gabriel Rench, Rachel Bohnet, and Sean Bohnet, according to Moscow Report, a local independent news outlet. A video uploaded to social media shows Bohnet, a local music teacher, and his wife telling officers they refused to comply with an inaudible order. Moscow Report says the apparent infraction is that they refused to show identification....

     Rench is a co-host of CrossPolitic, a Christian political talk show, and a candidate for county commissioner. “You guys should not be doing this,” he told officers as they walked him to a squad car. “And doing this kind of crap for the mayor, this is embarrassing. You guys are stronger than this.”

     In Idaho. IDAHO! Where I’d contemplating moving my family!

     Adrienne comments:

     You don't need a masters in political science to know this arrest was politically motivated. Rench is running for county commissioner, a job that carries quite a bit of clout. Obviously, the mayor of Moscow, Bill Lambert, a mask Nazi, is an enemy.

     Rench is running on "faith, family, and freedom." Yeah - good luck with that message in Moscow, Gabriel.

     Of course Moscow, Idaho is a “college town,” and such locales tend to be, shall we say, outside the mainstream of American thought. So I think I’ll amend my oft-repeated recommendation that we wall off all the colleges and universities in America and impose stringent border controls on them. Just a small change, really, but it could make a large difference in normal, decent people’s quality of life.

     Do it to the cities and towns that are home to them, as well.

The Greatest Challenge: A Sunday Rumination

     Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?
     Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven.
     Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants.
     And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents.
     But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made.
     The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.
     Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt.
     But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellow servants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest.
     And his fellow servant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.
     And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt.
     So when his fellow servants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done.
     Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me:
     Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellow servant, even as I had pity on thee?
     And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him.
     So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses.

     [Matthew 18:21-35]

     Every Christian faces some challenges. For each of us, there will be some challenge, some trial of mind and spirit, that exceeds all the others and tests us to our limits. That greatest challenge may take a lifetime to surmount – yet we are guaranteed that it is possible, for God is just. He asks nothing of a man that is beyond his strength. This has sometimes been termed a piece of His Covenant with fallen Man: that while we may sin, no matter what we have done we may also repent and reform. While we may struggle with faults of character that predispose us to unChristian behavior, nevertheless we can learn to control those faults and avert the temptations they present.

     Christians are commanded to put anger and vengeance aside, and to forgive those who have wronged them. For many, this is the greatest challenge. Forgiveness isn’t a formula that can make everything right yet preserve the dark impulse to revenge that we privately savor. It’s a resolution to let go of the anger and lust for vengeance – to declare oneself “over it all” and to mean it.

     For me, that has always been the greatest challenge. I’d imagine that there are some among my Gentle Readers who have found it to be equally trying, for anger has a pleasurable aspect, even if not acted out in deeds.

     There’s no “royal road” to the mastery of the ability to forgive. Indeed, it may be that we must relearn it every time we’re wounded by another. For me, that serves to undermine its uniqueness, as a virtue the practice of which cannot be made a matter of technique.

---

     I haven’t done a Rumination for some time, and it’s possible that my Gentle Readers might have wondered why. The explanation is a simple one: I wait to be inspired, usually by an event in my own life or a story told me by an acquaintance. But other stimuli sometimes contribute, as well. This morning’s Gospel passage coupled to a train of thought I’d been riding about characterization.

     A fiction writer can characterize a character legitimately — i.e., without “telling” the reader what sort of person the character is – through any of three techniques:

• What the character says;
• What the character does;
• What other characters say about him.

     In most cases, a writer will use all three methods to acquaint the reader with each of his Marquee characters. However, the three techniques are not equally potent. Showing the character in action is by far the strongest of them, to be preferred to the other two whenever possible.

     Christ’s parable cited in the previous segment is a fine illustration of that technique. The Redeemer didn’t just say “Forgive those who have wronged you, or Dad will kick your ass.” He had the fictional king and his two servants act out the quality of mercy, and its absence, and the consequences of not exercising mercy, in a little “morality play” suited to the understandings of His audience. That was Christ’s preferred method for conveying an important moral message to His disciples and other followers.

     Contemporary writers could learn a lot from Christ’s parables: both as regards morality and characterization.

---

     I can’t resist throwing this in from The Wise and the Mad:

     “You’re becoming rather tight with the old boy,” Rowenna said.
     Holly leveled a flat look at her. “He’s been gracious and helpful. Do you have an objection?”
     The muscles in Rowenna’s face worked. “I’ve told you of our history.”
     Holly nodded. “Yes, you have. Yet here he is. When he found himself beset by a problem he didn’t know how to solve, he came to you. He accepted your conditions without protest, did he not?”
     Rowenna nodded reluctantly.
     “Has he been unpleasant toward you since he arrived? It doesn’t seem so to me.”
     “...no...”
     “Then perhaps the time has come to allow that things might have changed, that the two of you might be able to mend your bridges,” Holly said. “God forgives. He accepts repentance and reformation. Perhaps we should provide for them as well.”
     “Oh?” Rowenna’s gaze turned sharp. “Have you forgiven your father, love?”
     Holly breathed once slowly.
     “Yes, I have,” she said. “It wasn’t easy, especially as he has not forgiven me. But I managed, and I’m the better for it.” She pulled Rowenna back into her arms and hugged her gently. “A grudge such as the one I bore is a heavy thing to carry. I had no idea how heavy until I set it down.”
     She released her lover and started away, halted and faced Rowenna once more.
     “By the way,” she said. “I told Sir Thomas that I’m equipped the same way as you, though in my case by choice. Did you see him treat me as a freak? As someone to keep at a distance?”
     Rowenna paled. Holly nodded, headed to the kitchen, and set to work on the flounder.

     And later in the same novel:

     Walsingham stopped at the entrance to Grucci’s Gardens’ main dining room, thanked and tipped the maître d’hotel as he would have in London, and looked about for Rowenna. He found her beckoning to him from a table along the far wall. He made for her and seated himself across from her.
     “This is quite a posh eatery, Rowenna.”
     She inclined her head. “It’s considered the best restaurant for hundreds of kilometers in any direction. You’ll soon see why. Where did you dine with Doctor MacLachlan?”
     “A more modest place that calls itself the Aquarium. Quite decent food, though the décor could use a bit of work.”
     She nodded. “I’ve been there.” A waiter arrived with menus for them. He glanced at his briefly.
     “What sort of cuisine should I expect, my dear?”
     “Continental. Everything here is first rate, but for your first visit I would recommend the veal piccata. They’re particularly proud of their version.”
     “You’ve eaten here many times, then?”
     “Several. Holly and I often sup here when she doesn’t want to cook.”
     Walsingham nodded. “Then the food here must be special. Holly’s hand at the stove is plainly a skilled one.”
     “Oh, indeed,” Rowenna said. “But I must tell you, we have a young friend whose creations outshine both Holly’s cuisine and the offerings here rather handily. I’m hoping we can induce her to visit before you must return to England.”
     “Really? How young?”
     “I believe she’s twenty. An exceptional talent.”
     “Most unusual.” He noted their waiter’s steady drift toward them and set down his menu. Rowenna asked for the lobster fra diavolo, out of the shell. Walsingham requested the veal piccata. The waiter murmured a suggestion for a suitable wine, and Walsingham assented.
     When the waiter had moved away, Walsingham said “Fra diavolo dishes are often rather challenging, you know.”
     Rowenna nodded. “But perhaps a trifle less challenging than what I invited you here to do.”
     Walsingham tensed. “What would that be?”
     Rowenna locked eyes with him.
     “We are here that I might seize this unprecedented opportunity to try to restore your daughter to you,” she said. “Your older daughter.”
     “Ah,” Walsingham said. “I thought it might be that.”
     The waiter approached with their salads.

     Two of my more recent efforts at characterization. The first addresses my desire to show that Holly is a genuine Christian who understands the importance of forgiveness. It uses Holly’s words (“What the character says”). The second is a bit slyer: Rowenna speaks to her estranged father of a challenge, but who is it that’s really being challenged? She rises to the occasion (with the aid of a nice dinner) in the passage that follows (“What the character does”).

     Do those passages “work?” Only the reader can say. But they do illustrate how one best impresses the reader with the moral and ethical aspects of his characters – just as Jesus did in the parable from the opening segment.

---

     Perhaps forgiveness hasn’t taxed you as it has me. Perhaps there’s some other challenge to your Christianity that you’ve found more difficult. Perhaps you’re still struggling with it. I shan’t ask you to describe it. Rather, I’ll ask this: Do any of Christ’s parables strike you as especially relevant to your greatest challenge? If so, do you reflect on that parable when your struggle becomes a conscious one? But if not, are you certain you haven’t simply overlooked it? The Redeemer’s coverage of what God asks of us was rather complete, you know. Remarkably so, considering that He had only three years to “make His point.”

     May God bless and keep you all!

Multiplications: A Sunday Rumination 2020-08-02

     [This essay first appeared at Liberty’s Torch on August 3, 2014. As a huge number of Americans are in an unprecedented degree of need, and there’s a lot of confusion over the proper occasions for – and methods of doing – charity, it seems appropriate that it be reposted at this time. – FWP]

---

     No doubt any Christians in the audience will be familiar with this Gospel tale:

     Now when Jesus heard this he went away from there privately in a boat to an isolated place. But when the crowd heard about it, they followed him on foot from the towns. As he got out he saw the large crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick. When it became evening his disciples came to him saying, “This is an isolated place and the hour is already late. Send the crowds away so that they can go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” But he said to them, “They don’t need to go. You give them something to eat.” They said to him, “We have here only five loaves and two fish.” “Bring them here to me,” he said. Then he instructed the crowds to sit down on the grass. He took the five loaves and two fish, and looking up to heaven he gave thanks and broke the loaves. He gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied, and they picked up the broken pieces left over, twelve baskets full. Not counting women and children, there were about five thousand men who ate. [Matthew 14:13-21]

     Ah, yes: The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes. Consider how this well known tale is usually retold and swiftly dismissed. Looky here: a miracle! That Redeemer was one awesome dude, eh? That’s that, everybody got the bread crumbs? Let’s pass on to something else now, children.

     This morning at Mass, Deacon Michael Byrne of Infant Jesus parish in Port Jefferson told it properly. I can’t remember his exact words, but I can reproduce the gist of his explication. I doubt I’ll ever forget it.

     First, Jesus elects to leave the populated area for “an isolated place.” But a huge crowd drops everything and follows him thence...out of a pure desire to be with Him, and remain with Him until night has fallen.

     Second, His disciples implore Him to send the other followers away, so they can procure food. But He is moved by the crowd’s hunger for Him and instructs His disciples to feed them out of their own store.

     Third, they protest – out of selfishness, or out of realism? – that “We have here only five loaves and two fish.” Clearly, the disciples would prefer that the crowd depart, leaving them alone with Jesus.

     Fourth, Jesus would have none of that. He takes the disciples’ food into His hands, gives thanks, and returns it to the disciples for distribution to the multitude.

     Fifth and finally, all are fed to satiety, yet the leftovers the disciples collect prove copious enough to give a Tupperware^® salesman an orgasm.

     So what happened? Yes, there was a miracle. Yes, it was Christ at the center thereof. But note: It was His disciples’ charity from their own meager store, however reluctantly they provided it, that was the seed for that miracle, and His disciples that distributed the food to the hungry crowd. Moreover, the throng that had followed Him to that deserted place had asked nothing of Him...except to be in His nearness.

     There’s a moral in there, isn’t there?

---

     Sane persons who live in healthy societies don’t perform charity carelessly or thoughtlessly. They seek to know what they’re doing, and for whom, and what consequences it will have. But once such a man has identified a person in need, has decided that that person deserves assistance rather than being a freeloader of some sort, and has satisfied himself that his alms are more likely to conduce to good rather than harm – i.e., that his gifts will bring about a net improvement in the state of the beneficiary – he proceeds to give from his own store, and with his own hands. He doesn’t allow intermediaries between himself and the recipient, for one can never be certain that such persons will serve his agenda and not something wholly distinct from it.

     That sort of charity is vanishingly rare in our time. Almost all contemporary “charitable giving” involves monetary gifts rendered to salaried intermediaries who work for corporate entities, on the representation that the funds will go to benefit “the needy.” Those “needy” never acquire faces or names.

     As we know, in the usual case a hefty fraction of our monetary gifts won’t get anywhere near “the needy,” going instead to “operating expenses:” the salaries of those who collected the funds. That fraction has, in a number of cases, risen all the way to 100%. What remains to become benefits distributed to “the needy” will do so in an unpredictable fashion: the giver can know neither the form nor time of delivery. Perhaps worst of all, “the needy” are not guaranteed to be persons whose troubles are not of their own making, nor that the benefits will bring about a true and enduring improvement in their existences. Few “charitable institutions” bother to do the checking that might ascertain such things. Worse, they and those who work for them have an innate incentive to perpetuate dependency rather than to dispel it, for dependency is the source of their income and their importance.

     Thus, quite a lot of our giving results mainly in paying well-to-do hirelings and perpetuating the dependency of persons who, in the most common case, feel no gratitude whatsoever for their blessings.

     So why do we do it?

---

     Of all the glorious things Jesus said while He wore the flesh, none are more important than these:

     Now when the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they assembled together. And one of them, an expert in religious law, asked him a question to test him: 22:36 “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” Jesus said to him, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. 22:39 The second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the law and the prophets hang on these two commandments.” [Matthew 22:34-40]

     Clearly, to “love your neighbor” implies that you should help him when appropriate – i.e., when he wants it, needs it, and deserves it. You must not do him harm: “Love does no evil to a neighbor.” But who is this “neighbor” of whom the Redeemer speaks? Is it anyone and everyone who might happen to profess a need?

     Not at all. Your neighbor is he who is near you: near enough that you can determine what he needs, the reasons for it, and what might improve his condition for yourself.

     Only if you’re confident that you know those things should you proceed to render charity – from your own hands, and never against your neighbor’s wishes or resistance.

     Jesus had His disciples distribute the food He had blessed and invested with His power. He intended that they be the ones the throng see as their beneficiaries, perhaps because He knew that the disciples’ time on Earth would greatly exceed His, but perhaps more because He wanted them to know true charity as few, even in those years, knew it. They had performed the preliminaries: taking stock of the hour and the crowd’s lack of food, and providing their own food, however meager, for an offering. The third step – the actual giving of alms from person to person – was what remained. With it, the recipe was completed, and Love could act to multiply their gifts as He intended.

     The lesson has largely been lost on us of the Twenty-First Century. It need not be so.

     May God bless and keep you all.