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Today Beth asked Karol (who is just over 2 years old), "Do you know what Jesus did for you?" We had finished bedtime prayers, and it was time for a little baby catechesis.
His response was both unexpected and true: "Dinosaurs!" While he had not intended to imply that Jesus made the dinosaurs for him (not only can his little brain not yet comprehend creation and the awesome power and amazing genius of God, he was merely pointing to the images on his jammies), it reminded me of the far-reaching fingers of God's mercy. They reach through space, time, wonder, aesthetic, mystery...
Jesus knows just how little we all are, when it really comes down to it. To Him, we are all like two-year-olds who marvel at his creation. If we've ceased to marvel at His creation, we've not matured - we've shriveled up and become know-it-all brats who think we have everything we need by our own handiwork. I think too much focus on scientific knowledge tends to do this to us. Not that lots of scientific knowledge is bad, just the intense focus on the possibility of knowing everything by empirical experience which leads us to stop looking at blades of grass with awe.
But also, an atrophied spiritual life leads down that path. Too much concentration of "what I have to get done" and not enough on "what I have to let happen to me" by immersing myself in the amazing and beautiful things God has given by His creation (what I like to call "natural sacramentals", though not in any real theological sense).
It's no wonder that dinosaurs stir up awe and wonder in little ones (both the young and old little ones). Jesus made them for us because He knows that we'd be awe-struck by them, and that they could help lead us to Him. Sure, we don't know much about their reality apart from conjecture, but why do we need to know more than that? Isn't that mystery just what keeps us in love with the natural world? And that love of the natural world which prompts our love for the amazing God who created all of these things for us?
So, of course I told Karol, "yeah, Jesus made the dinosaurs for you. When he was making them, he thought, 'Karol will love these - he'll be so amazed'. He was thinking about you when He made each one." And to myself, I can say the same thing, because I know that Jesus knows and loves each one of us that well.
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( 2.9 / 190 )
I've always loved sacred music. I'm talking about real, beautiful, traditional sacred music, not the garbage that unfortunately is sung in most churches these days. It's not because I was given this rich heritage to consider as I was growing up - for that matter, I wasn't even given classical music for my artistic development. Rather, I was raised on oldies (which means my father's generation of music from the 50s to the 70s - it could have been a whole lot worse) in the secular sphere, and the banal Glory and Praise type maggotry during the Sacred Liturgy. (Aside: although that type of music was supposed to be "living" or "progressive", why's it always want to make me commit suicide, and why's it not progressing from the same banal songs we've been singing for 30 years?)
So when I first heard the St. Boniface Schola singing in beautiful worship at the opening of the St. Elizabeth Perpetual Adoration chapel in Lafayette, Indiana, I did not fall in love. I was already deeply in love. As I listened, I knew that what I heard was real - was pure - was holy! I had no reason to question it, it was a truer reality than most other realities I had learned in my short 18 years. It was quite possibly the very first time I had heard real sacred music in my life. I have no idea what they sang that day, although I came to know what they sing after joining that schola years later.
Where did I get my perennial love for sacred music, which was only revealed to me long after I acquired it? Nobody indoctrinated me as to the horrors of bad liturgy practice, much less bad liturgy. In fact, at the time, seeking to do something worthwhile, I was in our parish's praise and worship band, singin' at the front of the church during Mass. Yes, I was naturally uncomfortable because my common sense got the better of me. However, I thought that I was just trying to overcome my fears and do the right thing - praise God by using the talent of my voice. Sadly, my education in "the right thing" was almost nil, and I really couldn't attach myself to the good and beautiful music that I didn't know, at that time, existed.
Again, the question - where did that love for beautiful, meaningful music come from which I had not theretofore known? I know the answer, now, after having had the opportunity to learn about right order and true goodness. It came directly from God when he created me out of nothingness. Just like the innate love I have of fresh, steamed artichoke hearts smothered in garlic butter. Ok, so the love of good food is acquired. Anyway, I have no question that God instilled in me this love of truly beautiful things, and I had the good fortune to not have that innate attraction soiled too much previous to encountering its object, sublime music of worship.
Now, to the point. Years of contemplating this dilemma of constant lack of education of young people in the sacred arts led me to my personal conviction that, in order to protect the sacred innate preference of the beautiful, children need to be exposed continuously and generously to beautiful things. When I began having my own children, it was thus almost natural to chant to them, show them beautiful paintings, hold them while singing with the Schola, etc.
Just this evening, I was chanting to Karol, who is now a very rowdy two year old boy. He doesn't sit still for much apart from being read to and eating "bunny bread". Every evening we sing or chant as part of bedtime prayers. Anyway, I've just found the the ornate "Alma Redemptoris Mater", which I've mostly known, and I've been trying to learn it completely. I chanted to him, and he asked to hear it again: "sing!". I complied, and again, five times in total. Karol loves chant. His favorite music has been Vivaldi guitar concertos, until we lent him a Christmas cd full of traditional hymns and sacred pieces. He listens to Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf. While these aren't all sacred music, they all have the similar sacred quality of beauty.
I can't help but think that we'd have a saner world if parents would teach their children to treasure beauty as a sacred reality. I can't help but wonder why this isn't done. I imagine ignorance due to a lack of good catechesis is the major proponent. Unfortunately, it's not easy to learn to like "foreign" music, at least not as easy as sitting back in your easy chair and letting the latest pop stars dribble their putrid nothingness into one's ears. But I suspect that my children will themselves be saner, wiser, and happier because I loved them enough to give them beauty, so that they could protect within themselves the sacredness of beauty.
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At Mass this morning, during the penitential rite, the good priest told us that, as we recall our sins, we should still remember that "we are all worthy" of participating in the eternal banquet.
Really, now.
Last I recall, I am a wretched sinner with no hope of ever being worthy of anything good, much less the greatest Gift God has given us. Especially considering the facts that I am not metaphysically equal to God, and therefore anything He shares with me of Himself me is far beyond my own worth. As a matter of fact, nothing I am has worth except in and through Him.
Which brings me to the point. Sure, one can say that we are made worthy through Jesus Christ, otherwise we would be eating and drinking condemnation to ourselves at every Eucharist without hope of salvation. However, that's different from saying that we just "are worthy". That unqualified phrase means, to normal people, that we "are worthy" in and of ourselves without grace of God to be so.
It's no wonder that people are so confused about what they should be doing to prepare themselves for communion. Heck, if I'm worthy already, without God's help, why should I go to confession, or pray, or try to do anything coherent in life? I don't need to align my will to God's, He's no longer necessary. Because, since I'm worthy by my own virtue, is it not I "Who Am"?
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Beth had the fine privilege of overhearing and then taking part in a conversation about the differences between Catholics and Protestants. There were three teenage Protestants and one uninformed teenage Catholic.
Before Beth joined, the essential conclusion was that the main difference is that Catholics worship Mary. She, of course, set them straight by stating the fact that some Catholics may take hyperdulia to a maryolatric extreme, but the reality is that Catholics, as we all know, worship God alone.
When she told me about this, in my consternation I wondered, "Where in the world did they come up with this idea?". Seriously! In this day of evidence and book knowledge, the idea that educated people (even teenagers) are so easily duped by stale old lies is absurd. And, since all of the girls (who were from very different backgrounds) agreed on the conclusion and were familiar with that myth, it is obviously a myth that is continually perpetuated by an ignorant populace.
Maybe Catholics should start perpetuating the Myth that Protestants worship Martin Luther, or King Henry the Eighth, or (your favorite revolt-leader's name here), since they were all of sufficient divine ability to found churches in opposition to the one founded by Jesus Christ. Except, the problem is that I'm Catholic, and every Catholic knows that he must strive to attain the truth in every circumstance. And I know that Protestants don't these people, just that some folks were misled for various reasons. So I'm not going to make a lie out of spite.
But I guess I can't expect the same thing from people who thrive on untruths, or at least on not finding the truth.
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I'd like to begin on a positive note. I'm very happy to begin this blog, which I've been aching to begin for ages. There's so much to say, and I've always wanted to write. Not that this would be considered actual writing by many, but I assume if you are one of those, you don't take this seriously enough to read it. So there!
This blog is about my love of the Catholic Church, which our good God has so graciously given us (without any hope of recompense, bless His Heart!), and which is so loved and maligned by all of His own.
This blog is about beauty and truth, about stupidity and malice - about the ludicrous and the sane.
It is about the joy of those rare glimpses of pure goodness we catch, and about despair at our world's complete ignorance of that goodness that has been given to it in innumerable forms.
Hopefully I'll represent myself clearly, but doubt that will regularly be the case. Feel free to comment and ask questions, but don't expect any sort of consistent response - I've a very busy life, but I do want to keep contact.
And lastly, as the badly formed Latin phrase is given to us,
oremus pro invicem!
JF
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His response was both unexpected and true: "Dinosaurs!" While he had not intended to imply that Jesus made the dinosaurs for him (not only can his little brain not yet comprehend creation and the awesome power and amazing genius of God, he was merely pointing to the images on his jammies), it reminded me of the far-reaching fingers of God's mercy. They reach through space, time, wonder, aesthetic, mystery...
Jesus knows just how little we all are, when it really comes down to it. To Him, we are all like two-year-olds who marvel at his creation. If we've ceased to marvel at His creation, we've not matured - we've shriveled up and become know-it-all brats who think we have everything we need by our own handiwork. I think too much focus on scientific knowledge tends to do this to us. Not that lots of scientific knowledge is bad, just the intense focus on the possibility of knowing everything by empirical experience which leads us to stop looking at blades of grass with awe.
But also, an atrophied spiritual life leads down that path. Too much concentration of "what I have to get done" and not enough on "what I have to let happen to me" by immersing myself in the amazing and beautiful things God has given by His creation (what I like to call "natural sacramentals", though not in any real theological sense).
It's no wonder that dinosaurs stir up awe and wonder in little ones (both the young and old little ones). Jesus made them for us because He knows that we'd be awe-struck by them, and that they could help lead us to Him. Sure, we don't know much about their reality apart from conjecture, but why do we need to know more than that? Isn't that mystery just what keeps us in love with the natural world? And that love of the natural world which prompts our love for the amazing God who created all of these things for us?
So, of course I told Karol, "yeah, Jesus made the dinosaurs for you. When he was making them, he thought, 'Karol will love these - he'll be so amazed'. He was thinking about you when He made each one." And to myself, I can say the same thing, because I know that Jesus knows and loves each one of us that well.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink | related link |
( 2.9 / 190 )I've always loved sacred music. I'm talking about real, beautiful, traditional sacred music, not the garbage that unfortunately is sung in most churches these days. It's not because I was given this rich heritage to consider as I was growing up - for that matter, I wasn't even given classical music for my artistic development. Rather, I was raised on oldies (which means my father's generation of music from the 50s to the 70s - it could have been a whole lot worse) in the secular sphere, and the banal Glory and Praise type maggotry during the Sacred Liturgy. (Aside: although that type of music was supposed to be "living" or "progressive", why's it always want to make me commit suicide, and why's it not progressing from the same banal songs we've been singing for 30 years?)
So when I first heard the St. Boniface Schola singing in beautiful worship at the opening of the St. Elizabeth Perpetual Adoration chapel in Lafayette, Indiana, I did not fall in love. I was already deeply in love. As I listened, I knew that what I heard was real - was pure - was holy! I had no reason to question it, it was a truer reality than most other realities I had learned in my short 18 years. It was quite possibly the very first time I had heard real sacred music in my life. I have no idea what they sang that day, although I came to know what they sing after joining that schola years later.
Where did I get my perennial love for sacred music, which was only revealed to me long after I acquired it? Nobody indoctrinated me as to the horrors of bad liturgy practice, much less bad liturgy. In fact, at the time, seeking to do something worthwhile, I was in our parish's praise and worship band, singin' at the front of the church during Mass. Yes, I was naturally uncomfortable because my common sense got the better of me. However, I thought that I was just trying to overcome my fears and do the right thing - praise God by using the talent of my voice. Sadly, my education in "the right thing" was almost nil, and I really couldn't attach myself to the good and beautiful music that I didn't know, at that time, existed.
Again, the question - where did that love for beautiful, meaningful music come from which I had not theretofore known? I know the answer, now, after having had the opportunity to learn about right order and true goodness. It came directly from God when he created me out of nothingness. Just like the innate love I have of fresh, steamed artichoke hearts smothered in garlic butter. Ok, so the love of good food is acquired. Anyway, I have no question that God instilled in me this love of truly beautiful things, and I had the good fortune to not have that innate attraction soiled too much previous to encountering its object, sublime music of worship.
Now, to the point. Years of contemplating this dilemma of constant lack of education of young people in the sacred arts led me to my personal conviction that, in order to protect the sacred innate preference of the beautiful, children need to be exposed continuously and generously to beautiful things. When I began having my own children, it was thus almost natural to chant to them, show them beautiful paintings, hold them while singing with the Schola, etc.
Just this evening, I was chanting to Karol, who is now a very rowdy two year old boy. He doesn't sit still for much apart from being read to and eating "bunny bread". Every evening we sing or chant as part of bedtime prayers. Anyway, I've just found the the ornate "Alma Redemptoris Mater", which I've mostly known, and I've been trying to learn it completely. I chanted to him, and he asked to hear it again: "sing!". I complied, and again, five times in total. Karol loves chant. His favorite music has been Vivaldi guitar concertos, until we lent him a Christmas cd full of traditional hymns and sacred pieces. He listens to Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf. While these aren't all sacred music, they all have the similar sacred quality of beauty.
I can't help but think that we'd have a saner world if parents would teach their children to treasure beauty as a sacred reality. I can't help but wonder why this isn't done. I imagine ignorance due to a lack of good catechesis is the major proponent. Unfortunately, it's not easy to learn to like "foreign" music, at least not as easy as sitting back in your easy chair and letting the latest pop stars dribble their putrid nothingness into one's ears. But I suspect that my children will themselves be saner, wiser, and happier because I loved them enough to give them beauty, so that they could protect within themselves the sacredness of beauty.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink | related link |
( 3 / 242 )At Mass this morning, during the penitential rite, the good priest told us that, as we recall our sins, we should still remember that "we are all worthy" of participating in the eternal banquet.
Really, now.
Last I recall, I am a wretched sinner with no hope of ever being worthy of anything good, much less the greatest Gift God has given us. Especially considering the facts that I am not metaphysically equal to God, and therefore anything He shares with me of Himself me is far beyond my own worth. As a matter of fact, nothing I am has worth except in and through Him.
Which brings me to the point. Sure, one can say that we are made worthy through Jesus Christ, otherwise we would be eating and drinking condemnation to ourselves at every Eucharist without hope of salvation. However, that's different from saying that we just "are worthy". That unqualified phrase means, to normal people, that we "are worthy" in and of ourselves without grace of God to be so.
It's no wonder that people are so confused about what they should be doing to prepare themselves for communion. Heck, if I'm worthy already, without God's help, why should I go to confession, or pray, or try to do anything coherent in life? I don't need to align my will to God's, He's no longer necessary. Because, since I'm worthy by my own virtue, is it not I "Who Am"?
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink | related link |
( 3 / 315 )Beth had the fine privilege of overhearing and then taking part in a conversation about the differences between Catholics and Protestants. There were three teenage Protestants and one uninformed teenage Catholic.
Before Beth joined, the essential conclusion was that the main difference is that Catholics worship Mary. She, of course, set them straight by stating the fact that some Catholics may take hyperdulia to a maryolatric extreme, but the reality is that Catholics, as we all know, worship God alone.
When she told me about this, in my consternation I wondered, "Where in the world did they come up with this idea?". Seriously! In this day of evidence and book knowledge, the idea that educated people (even teenagers) are so easily duped by stale old lies is absurd. And, since all of the girls (who were from very different backgrounds) agreed on the conclusion and were familiar with that myth, it is obviously a myth that is continually perpetuated by an ignorant populace.
Maybe Catholics should start perpetuating the Myth that Protestants worship Martin Luther, or King Henry the Eighth, or (your favorite revolt-leader's name here), since they were all of sufficient divine ability to found churches in opposition to the one founded by Jesus Christ. Except, the problem is that I'm Catholic, and every Catholic knows that he must strive to attain the truth in every circumstance. And I know that Protestants don't these people, just that some folks were misled for various reasons. So I'm not going to make a lie out of spite.
But I guess I can't expect the same thing from people who thrive on untruths, or at least on not finding the truth.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink | related link |
( 3 / 337 )I'd like to begin on a positive note. I'm very happy to begin this blog, which I've been aching to begin for ages. There's so much to say, and I've always wanted to write. Not that this would be considered actual writing by many, but I assume if you are one of those, you don't take this seriously enough to read it. So there!
This blog is about my love of the Catholic Church, which our good God has so graciously given us (without any hope of recompense, bless His Heart!), and which is so loved and maligned by all of His own.
This blog is about beauty and truth, about stupidity and malice - about the ludicrous and the sane.
It is about the joy of those rare glimpses of pure goodness we catch, and about despair at our world's complete ignorance of that goodness that has been given to it in innumerable forms.
Hopefully I'll represent myself clearly, but doubt that will regularly be the case. Feel free to comment and ask questions, but don't expect any sort of consistent response - I've a very busy life, but I do want to keep contact.
And lastly, as the badly formed Latin phrase is given to us,
oremus pro invicem!
JF
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink | related link |
( 3 / 350 )
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