Author: JenniferFitz

School Photos, Prologue

So we’re officially entered in Dorian & Bearing’s homeschool photo contest, and it looks like the deadline is being extended, yay!   So if you have had photo drama as we did, do not despair.  Share your pics.

I submitted seven in the official flicker location — the ones that looked most homeschooly.  I thought, does anyone really want to see the purple hippos?  Even though they are an integral part of my homeschool?  You’ll be relieved to know that most of the photos we took never made it to the internet!  Yay!  But if you want the complete flicker Fitz homeschool collection, it’s here.

–> Note that there are some duplicates, because we had three photographers working on this project, and they all got to post their favorite photos, no matter what. And since two of us shared a camera, there was some arguing over who snapped which shot.  Not all the captions are my work either – check the tag to verify.

School.

1 day completed, 179 to go.  So far so good.

And we finally got our photos onto the PC, made a flicker account, and soon, very soon, will enter Dorian & Bearing’s contest.  There’s sort of a lot of photos, because two girls wanted to enter.  And I had to let them, since I needed to borrow a camera from one of them.  And then there’s a lot of photos, because, well, you wanted a photo of the cat, right?  And three stuffed hippos?

Ah, look, I see the 100% sign down on my tool bar.  Getting back to work now.  I’ll make a post of my version of the homeschool tour.  Ev put descriptions on her photos (some of which are mine, ahem, thief), and LEL’s are un-captions because of this:

Me: “What do you want me to write next to that photo”.

LEL: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Well, why did you take that photo?”

LEL: “So I could be in the contest and win a prize.”

 

Pagans & Tax Collectors

In Matthew 18:15-17, Jesus gives instructions on how to handle sin in the Church. There’s a method, and it’s pretty simple: You give the guy multiple chances to understand that he has gone astray, starting with the most discreet options, but eventually bringing in the teaching authority of the Church herself if necessary.

And what if he refuses to listen even to the Church? Jesus says this:

“Treat him as you would a Pagan, or a tax collector”.

And that’s the process.

The first steps are pretty straightforward, though maybe not real popular. Since it involves you personally, refraining from gossip and instead pulling on the grown-up suit and figuring out how you are going to convince someone else what is right and wrong. With the actual goal of persuading the person to repent and reform, instead of the much more self-gratifying goal of venting your anger and maybe getting in a few good digs while you’re at it.

[Remember: If the guy doesn’t listen to you, then you’re supposed to go get other members of the church to come help persuade. And you know those other members are going to ask about how the first conversation went. So you better not have said something really mean and stupid.  Yeah, I know. No one really likes this passage. I’m so much better at “mean and stupid” than “charitable and helpful”.]

But let’s skip ahead to the unrepentant sinner – which includes a subset, the unrepentant dissenter. This is the part hand-rubbing pundits love, because you get to pull out the big guns. You maintained composure through all those edifying discussions, and now, now!, finally!, you get to give the guy what he deserves and Treat Him Like A Pagan. Or a tax collector. Your choice.

When I see editorial on this passage, what I often see is the Freaked Out Jesus Method* of biblical interpretation. We, the readers, see words like “sinner” “Pagan” and “tax collector”, and we insert BAD, BAD, and BAD. And if Bad then Mad, right? So we picture Jesus: Impatient with sinners, ready to toss transgressor outta the church, and here’s how to get rid of ‘em, make sure you do the job thoroughly. Don’t be Mr. Nice Guy, apostles and disciples, or Jesus will be Mad at YOU too.

Except that Jesus doesn’t actually treat Pagans and tax collectors this way. What does Jesus do for Pagans and tax collectors? He invites them to dinner. He heals their sick. He praises what faith they have. He invites them take of the Living Water.

In summary: Jesus evangelizes.

That’s the method. If one of your brothers sins against you, and he won’t listen to the Church, try to win him back.

***

There is a sting, though, in this instruction. And here is where I think the courage of the Church fails most.

See, everybody wants to stay “catholic”.

It’s pretty funny, really. None of my Pagan or tax-collector friends are upset about not being Catholic. They don’t sit around stewing and accusing the Church of cruelty on account of how Pagans aren’t Catholic and Catholics aren’t Pagans. Everyone fully grasps the notion that there are things you have to be willing to believe and do if you want to be Catholic, and well, if you wanted to do and think such things, you wouldn’t be Pagan.

But unrepentant and dissenting Christians often are resentful of the notion that they have left the bounds of the fold of the Church.

Regular Pagans recognize the authority of the Church over its members, and choose not to be part of that Church. Dissenters want to be counted as part of the Church, but without recognizing that the Church has an authoritative teaching office that Christians need obey.

—-> For all the noise about ‘closed communion’, I’ve never once had a non-catholic friend be upset about it, after I explained why we did things how we do. No sane person wants to be publicly labeled as “believes in the Real Presence” and “accepts the teachings of the Church”, if they don’t actually believe such things. Catholic doctrine is, you know, a little crazy, huh? Would you want to have walked around New York in 1750 with a big stamp on your head that said “Thinks Humans Can Fly”??. Until you knew for sure that hot-air balloons worked, you wouldn’t want the crazy-label. Once you knew, you’d be proud of it. But until then, no.

In contrast, dissenting Catholics cling to their ‘rights’ with bitter furor. Try to tell a formerly-Catholic hospital** or college that they need to quit claiming Catholicism now that they’ve quit teaching and practicing Catholicism . . . and the drama . . . oh my goodness the drama.

The scandal isn’t that this or that person or institution is non-Catholic.

My local county hospital isn’t Catholic, my State U alma mater isn’t Catholic, and most of friends are not Catholic. Pagans and tax collectors all of them. For the longest time, I was even married to one of these people. (He seems to have come out of it.  Yay!) No drama necessary.

Jesus isn’t freaking out. He wants every one back into the Church, and He’ll do any good thing to make that happen. Have you to dinner, heal your servant, die on the cross for you – there is no limit to His mercy.

But the Gospels do tell us this: Don’t be crazy.

Sane people know what they do and don’t believe.

If someone has ceased to believe and practice the Catholic faith, put your head on straight and acknowledge the fact. Non-Catholics and former-Catholics are no scandal. Open wide your arms and give whatever you legitimately can to help and befriend.

Bad Catholics? No surprise there, we announce our sinfulness at every Mass. Forgive us seventy-times-seven times, and remind us in no uncertain terms what the Church really teaches. Accept our repentance, over and over and over again.

But fake Catholics? That is scandal and madness.

Turn on your brain, and respectfully acknowledge the former Catholic has stepped outside the fold. You can’t welcome someone back into the house, if you are busy pretending they’ve never gone out.

 

 

 

 * See two posts below for an explanation of the FOJM.  WordPress refuses to let me make links today.

**Ack, I hate link failure.  Here’s a great piece on the current round of Catholic hospital scandals:  http://defend-us-in-battle.blogspot.com/2011/08/why-providence-hospital-situation-isnt.html

As seen at the liquor store.

My post on Pagans & Tax Collectors is almost ready to go up.  But what you really want to read is Simcha’s column at the Register.  Bet you can guess what my favorite line is. 

WordPress is misbehaving this morning so I can’t make a link directly, but try this: http://www.ncregister.com/blog/dear-greenypantses-this-is-why-no-one-likes-you C&P’d from the Register‘s special find-me magic.

Freaked Out Jesus

Yesterday’s Gospel is also Sunday’s Gospel, but before I write about that, I need to explain about Freaked Out Jesus.

When we speak, it is not only our words that convey the meaning of our message. Our tone of voice, facial expressions, general demeanor, all these clarify the real meaning of our words. Start with this statement: “I’m looking for my son.”

It means something completely different, depending on my tone. Frantic? Furious? Bored? Amused? If I’m standing at the sink doing dishes while he’s calling out from the closet for me to come find him, it means I am not looking for my son. As in, maybe he’ll stay in the closet five minutes and I can get these dishes done.

The Gospels almost never give us this extra information to go with the words of Jesus. Which means that for much of the Gospels , we the readers have to fill in the missing information ourselves. There can be no “neutral” reading – put the dialog into a flat, expressionless tone, and you’ve gone and set a very particular (and unlikely) mood.

What readers today seem to do the most, though, is use the words as stage cues. Which doesn’t always work – if Jesus says He’s “tired” of something, is he angry, frustrated, bored, or about to fall asleep? What I see most as a result of this method is what I call Freaked Out Jesus. We put the most forceful literal spin on his words, as if Jesus were marching through Galilee reacting in extremes at every wacky thing the mortals do.

I don’t think this works, and the reason is the people I grew up with. Bearing the brunt of one of our childish antics, my maternal grandmother would say: “I could wring your neck.” My father would say, “God bless it all.”

Now you who have lived in my time and place may know exactly what those two expressions mean and how they were conveyed. But pretend for a moment that you used the Freaked Out method of literal interpretation to add tone and meaning to the words. You’d make my grandmother out to be a homicidal maniac. The children spill a pound of sugar on the floor, and she’s ready to strangle them! You envision wild eyes, grasping hands, children fleeing in terror. And then my father, in contrast, watching the dog eat the meatloaf someone knocked off the table, is smiling beatifically, praising Jesus in mild, thankful tones for the wonderful gift of family life.

No. My grandmother would say, “I could wring your neck”, and she’d be laughing. Children are children. They make good stories. My father would bellow “God bless it all!”, and trust me, it wasn’t a blessing. [For the record, my dad is a great guy. But yeah, when he’s mad, he YELLS. And then he’s over it. He’s a wonderful father in his own special loud way.]

And those two are my argument against the Freaked Out method of reading the Gospels. When Peter starts to slip into the water out on the sea, and Jesus says, “Oh you of little faith,” do you really think He’s belittling the apostle? That’s how it usually gets interpreted. But what if Jesus were patient and kind? What if He were pleased with Peter’s efforts however small (and walking on water is not so small), and as He helped Peter up, He wanted to provide encouragement and guidance? What if Jesus had a sense of humor? Is it possible He was sort of chuckling to Himself and giving Peter a pat on the back as they got into the boat?

The Gospels don’t say. We have to use clues to fill in the missing information as best we can. And that’s where I’m going in the next post on Pagans & Tax Collectors. Because I think that the Gospels do give us clues on how Jesus feels about them, and how He wants us to treat them. And by extension, how he wants us to treat dissenting and openly sinning members of the Church.

Hey, look, a Tollefsen article!

Yeah, it took me by surprise too.  You’ll be relieved to know it’s on a nice, quiet, non-controversial topic, Contraception and Healthcare Rights.  Here were my thoughts as I read:

  1. Yay!  A Tollefsen article my readers will actually like!
  2. Ooops.  Nope.  More mad readers.  Uh oh.
  3. No, never mind, I think it’s good after all.

So, er, read at your own risk.  It’s written philosophy-style, of course, so you’re constantly behind the curve, never really sure whether you agree with the guy or not.  But I’m pretty sure he makes sense.  In that special philosopher way.*

 

 

*Keep in mind that professional philosophers have to work day in and day out with people who aren’t strictly sure they exist, or perhaps are sure they exist, but also that they only turned up at the conference or the coffee bar on account of their molecules making them do that.  I’m not making fun.  That’s what a subset of real live tenured philosophy professors actually think.  I’ve taken the classes . . . I know.  You’d write reaaally caaarefullly if you had to present your papers to those people.    (I mean, for a living.  If you’re a student, you could just write normally and live with the B.)

And more joy.

I didn’t change because I liked Jesus’ message or because I decided to follow His teachings. I changed because I experienced His love for me and I responded to it. His love was so encompassing that I had to offer it to others.

Sometime when you have a few minutes to sit down, go read Antonella Garofalo’s conversion story.   It is longer than the usual twenty-second blog post, but eminently readable and full of life.

Looking forward to seeing more of her work.