The plague waxes and wanes, but the power of scheduling causes the illusion of productivity. . . . That which I wrote about in spurts here last year, turned into one concise post for AmazingCatechists.com this year: MED-I-TATE, MED-I-TATE . . . Reflective Prayer in the Classroom. Enjoy.
Category: Catechist Chat
7 Quick Takes: The Path of Least Resistance
1.
The 4th grade science book had this explanation of charge (negative, positive, etc) that was just not computing with a certain child. Trying to figure out how to explain what the girl needed to know was going to take more brain power than I wished to exert. So I fetched the boy’s old snap circuit kit, and said, “Read the directions, make a couple of these, and then we’ll talk.”
She loves them. She’s made maybe twenty of the projects now.
And the SuperHusband came home and explained the habits of those wiley electrons in terms we could all understand.
2.
In his explanations, he observed electrons are a lot like people. Certain children, for example, would much rather we evenly populate the rooms of the house, than have three girls crowded together in one bedroom. It was an analogy our people-person girl grasped immediately.
3.
On the evening walk after dinner, Mr. Boy proposed seminars that run the opposite direction. “People Skills for Engineers”, for example. In which you explain that people are a lot like electrons.
4.
Every time your blood pressure spikes from reading about offensive jury verdicts in which parents are paid millions to publicly wish their children dead, Allie Hathaway’s the perfect choice for your offering up. Have I mentioned that reading the news is a near occasion of sin for me? You might have noticed.
5.
Benadryl season, here. I ran out of the liquid. Seven-year-old had dark circles under her eyes, perpetual sneezing, and was losing her voice. But the pill. It doesn’t want to go down.
Until I remembered this stuff:
Now she’s very punctual in reminding me when she needs her next dose.
6.
We weren’t sure whether our dog would get along with our friends’ dogs during the pending staycation, in which all Fitz creatures under a certain age vacate castle premises for the weekend. So we ran a test the other day. One of the host dogs was not pleased at the arrival of the guest dog, and our pup insisted on saying a few pointed words back . The altercation slowly edged them towards the pool.
Our dog, unaware she was backing up towards the water, fell right in. She swam to the side, and my friend showed her the way up the steps.
And after that, the dogs got along just fine.
7.
And with that, I’m out of here, and offline, until sometime Monday. Think I might send the telephone off with the kids, too. Have a great weekend!
***
UPDATE: Thank You Facebook Helpers. The new page name is: www.facebook.com/JenFitz.writes. You guys are the best.
(Meanwhile SuperHusband and I are enjoying an eerily silent weekend. I’ll check back at the combox and all that come Monday, or whenever we lose our un-plugged concentration and just have to ignore each other for a while.)
7 Quick Takes: Lucky Women
1.
It’s been a long few days here at the Castle. I would be very grateful for your prayers.
2.
This is hilarious: “Teach Yourself a New Culture in 100 Easy Lessons”, in which we see how a Haitian man studying English describes the pictures in the reading book. I want the whole series.
3.
Lent report:
1) Yeah, we pretty much stink at prayer-n-fasting. Especially when housework is supposed to fit in their somewhere.
2) But I did have an Adrian Monk Moment, and clean the yard in a frenzied response to stress and frustration. It looks really nice. Or it did 24 hours ago, anyhow.
3) And then here’s what happened: We planned to meet Fr. W for lunch because after six months of trying, dinner just wasn’t happening. Too busy. And we decided that ‘at the restuarant’ was smarter than ‘at our house’. And this morning I thought, “Yes, I’m so glad it’s at the restaurant, because this place is a wreck.” And then I realized: “This place is waaaaay cleaner then the first time he came over last summer. For one thing, at this time I would not need to send the children out on an hour-long mission to “get rid of the disgusting things”.
So, yes. Progress. Not as stellar of progress as my vivid imagination had envisioned. But it’s something.
The Fitz House, Now 75% Less Disgusting!
4.
You thought you could just pray for my intention up there in #1. No can do. Allie Hathaway. Right now.
. . . Okay good. Thanks!
5.
Helen Alvare e-mailed me (and 18,000 of her closest friends, I’m pretty sure) with the reminder that:
. . . The Obama Administration has put real accommodation of religious employers, insurers, and individuals off the table. And they have managed to get leading media to continue to claim that women are on the side of shutting down religious witness on the issue of the “free” birth control in employer insurance plans.
If you’re female and you haven’t signed the Women Speak for Themselves letter, do it now, here.
And this the Facebook page: facebook.com/WomenSpeakForThemselves.
[H/T to the inimitable Mrs. Tollefsen for the head’s up about the letter and the encouragement to sign it. They let me on, so they’ll take anybody.]
6.
Bearing links to a really cool history article on eugenics, politics, and the Irish in 1940. Click on her link and read the whole thing — very well-researched and written account of a suspicious marriage certificate, and the man who made it so, 52 years after the wedding took place. For that matter, if you’re having withdrawal because you don’t like how my 3-D life is interfering with your goofing-off schedule, Bearing’s been pretty much rocking the house lately, so you just go read her for a while.
7.
And that’s it. Catholic Writer’s Conference starts tomorrow. My yard is clean. My blog is sad and lonely. The weather is beautiful. My truck is pale yellow from the pine pollen. My 5 year-old has a new green plaid outfit made by her 10-year-old sister from scrap fabric, just in time to keep the neighbor kid from pinching her tomorrow. I have given up all hope of predicting the future, and now consider my calendar to be a work of speculative fiction.
Oh speaking of saint’s feast days, last night I read the account of St. Abraham Kidunaia. And I thought as I read, “Gee, his poor fiance, abandoned on the eve of the wedding, when he fled to the desert and locked himself in a cell.” And then I read a little further, and concluded: “Probably once she learned he was planning to wear the same goatskin coat for the next 50 years, she was okay with it.”
Hey look — I wrote something last week. Just not here.
In case you didn’t see it pop up at about 70 places around the internet (okay just four that I know about), here’s my contribution to Chris Weigand’s Lenten devotional series. In which I accidentally ponder yesterday’s Gospel for year A instead of for year B, despite checking three times to be sure. Happy accident, though. I think the woman at the well has been getting more bad press than she deserves.
7 Quick Takes: Doing it Wrong
1.
My ashes have worn off. Anyone know where I can get them touched up? I made it till Sunday being moderately virtuous in the life of prayer and penitence, and then . . . well, some of us are more “childish” than “childlike” in our faith. But God is merciful, and every day is new. Back to it.
1B
I’m contractually obligated to tell you: You are doing Lent wrong.
At least, I think that must be a line in the Catholic Bloggers Handbook, because that seemed to be the theme this past week. Probably my punishment for too much internet and not enough diligence.
Take away lesson: If you are praying and fasting the wrong way, for the wrong reasons, and entirely too lightly, we the Catholic Bloggers of the World are here to let you know. You see how convenient it is, giving spiritual direction to complete strangers? So much simpler. You can say thank you anytime.
2.
But if you are putting sand in your holy water fonts, that is just plain wrong. It’s not my fault that I have to link to the grumpiest priest on the internet in order for you to find that out. Tip for mothers of tween boys: My son loves Fr. R. What’s not to love, between the guns and the complaining about lousy hymns? The girls got mad at me for reading one of his posts aloud — bad language (for our house). I used the “just quoting a priest” defense.
Anyway, I figure it’s best to go ahead and get the boy hooked on crotchety right-wing gun-enthusiast priests, because then at least our arguments can be fun.
2B
The boy recommends you watch Matrix run on Windows XP. I agree.
3.
Are we the only Catholic home where the wall and floor beneath the mini-holy water font are now very, very blessed? I’m divided between whether that means we are very bad Catholics or just that much more desperate for God’s blessings.
4.
If you want to do one thing right today, quick stop reading and say a prayer for Allie Hathaway.
5.
Look, I’m a grown-up now! I told Lisa Mladinich that she’d have to re-name her site “Pretty Good Catechists”, or “Amazing Catechists Plus Also Jen Sometimes”. She told me the no, she’s expanding the “amazing” brand to reach out the “It’s amazing anyone let you be a catechist” segment, and I was the perfect choice to lead that charge.*
Anyway, I posted one column at AC introducing myself, so if you aren’t sure who I am, quick go look. I’ll stick up a regular catechist-y column sometime soon, and you can be sure I’ll let you know about that. Double bonus if you go: You can see my picture instead of just a pile of rocks. My writer friends are all patting me on the back. Because now if you ever meet me somewhere, and I’m trying to stick my head through a very small window, sideways, you’ll be able to identify me right away.
6.
There’s a rumor that my first column at CatholicMom.com is going to appear tomorrow (Saturday) morning. I’m interested to see what I have to say. Something about homeschooling.**
7.
Blair of Blair’s Blessings pointed me (and many others) to the free audio stories for kids at EWTN’s site. Do you see how happy and sweet her kids are? She does things right.
***
*That is a COMPLETE FABRICATION. Lisa Mladinich is a friendly, cheerful person unlike your hostess here, and she would never ever say something like that. I had to make it up.
**Lisa Hendey has you send in your first two columns before you start. I don’t know which one she’ll put up first. I love the suspense — now I have to get on the internet right away at 9:00am Saturday to find out.
7 Quick Takes: People, Places, Things
1.
Until yesterday, I had no idea — zero — about the history of shipping orphaned British children to the colonies to work as indentured servants. I did know about the American orphan trains, thanks to the picture book on the subject.
You can read about the British Home Children at Rose McCormick-Brandon’s site, The Promise of Home.
2.
This week we met the governor’s dog, Simba. I can’t find an image for you, but if you book a (free) tour of the SC Governor’s Mansion, the odds are in your favor. (We also caught sight of the first gentleman, but he saw the tour group through the window and slipped around to a back entrance.)
This is my new favorite historic building tour for kids, because it is a real live occupied home. Which means nothing is roped off, and you are allowed to touch things. Mostly the kids did not touch things, because they have sense and know better than to put their fingers on somebody’s dishes or plop down on the living room couch. The downstairs area that you tour looks exactly like your grandmother’s formal living room that even your mom isn’t allowed to go into without permission. So you put on living room manners.
But the tour guide did have us all pull out dining room chairs to inspect the deer-hoof carving on the feet of the chairs. If you poured out a bottle of SC Concentrate, that building is what you’d get.
3.
After a jumbled first-round of Sacrament of Confession last week, I re-booted and had a much better second half. Helped that we had laid the groundwork the week before; also that I revised the study guide so that the students didn’t have to copy so much off the board.
My trusty teenage assistant was out sick last week. Lucky for him, we didn’t do 10,000 Gun Questions until this week. He agreed, it is a very fun class.
4.
I’m still only halfway through writing report cards for Q2. Quarter break is almost over. Need to crank the rest out and mail off a couple quarters worth of grades and work samples to Kolbe. Not something that Kolbe requires (unless you want a transcript from them), nor that is a legal requirement for us. But I am finding that it helps me teach better, if I have that extra grown-up looking over my shoulder.
5.
My daughter (the Bun – #3 child) loves beanie-snaps. She’s having some for breakfast-dessert. These:
#4 would eat sour cream exclusively if we let her.
6.
Pray for Allie Hathaway. Also for the repose of the soul of Fr. Robert Fix.
7.
3.5 Time Outs: Sursum Corda
Thanks once again to our host Larry D. at Acts of the Apostasy, who, I am sorry to learn, does not like leftovers for breakfast. Read the whole tragic childhood tale by clicking the photo:
1.
You’ll never guess where I saw the words Sursum Corda last Friday, when I was busy not getting my seven takes up on time for that other person.
***
Also I learned later in the day: Though “Sursum Corda” sure sounds like the name of a papal encyclical, it isn’t.
Which means: I gave somebody a little bit of wrong information. Nuts. But I also gave a lot of correct information. For example, you would have found it in this book – p. xxvii. And others like it.
2.
But you know, if you google the words Sursum Corda + Pope Benedict, you get a lot of hits. Is it my fault I spend too much time on the Internet reading this stuff until it becomes one giant jumble of confused trivia? Wait, don’t answer that.
3.
You may have noticed that adolescent boys don’t necessarily google these same topics. Which is why I have begun a massive print propaganda campaign, in which I subscribe to the publications I think my child should read, then leave them on the bathroom counter for him to discover when he’s hiding from his math homework.
Might I add that Catholic Answers, Envoy, OSV and The Register run some seriously good articles? It is as if all the stuff you read for free online is not the very best of contemporary Catholic writing, and that there is value to be had in paying writers for their work. I never guessed.
3.5
So your hints for the solution to #1 are:
A.) The Inferno.
B.) In which city you can still see this guy’s house:
C. ) And this hat. Which causes me to pun horribly every time I see it:
Freedom of Religion: The Right to be Wrong.
Several years ago a friend shared a frustration about her job as a public school teacher: She felt that in the faculty lounge she had to pretend to be pro-life, lest she lose her job. She worked in a conservative school district, and the other staff leaned to evangelical Christian (she did not). She felt persecuted, and she didn’t think it was right. I agreed.
Not because I was myself on the fence concerning abortion — I had always opposed it. But because it seemed to me that if you are a government employee, you shouldn’t lose your job for agreeing with the laws of the government you serve.
[I should clarify here: She was not complaining that she couldn’t share her views with students — she had no desire or intention of doing that; given her subject and the ages of her students, abortion was not ever going to be discussed in the classroom in any way. What she feared was that merely holding the beliefs that she did would cost her job.]
In studying history there comes an ugly moment when you suddenly understand how hopelessly immersed you are in your own culture. Future people will wonder why you did not have more courage to stand for what you knew was right. They will also wonder why you did not see how terribly wrong you were about principles that, to a later generation, seem entirely clear. But the pull of your own time and place is too powerful.
That is how I feel about the law.
Product of late 20th-century USA, having grown up on patriotic songs and the Pledge of Allegiance and trips to Williamsburg and copies of the Constitution handed out at the bank in 1987 to commemorate the bicentennial . . . I’ve got this obsession with the Bill of Rights. I am too late-century to believe it has been flawlessly administered, but I can’t shake the idea that it ought to be.
And enshrined in the 1st Amendment is the right to be wrong. We call it freedom of religion.
Even though Congress is not supposed to make laws prohibiting the free exercise of religion, of course it does. If your faith prescribes polygamy or ritual human sacrifice, no-can-do for you. Morality informs the law, and no amount of arguing that your religion required you to embezzle that money will get you out of jail. The majority will legislate the boundaries within which you may practice your beliefs. The majority of course, being composed of people who are sometimes wrong.
(Example: Slavery. Big mistake that one. No slaves were emancipated by arguing in Confederate court, “My religion tells me I shouldn’t have to be a slave.” But religious arguments — initially regarded as crazy fringe nutcase arguments — did eventually persuade the Union government to emancipate. No comment on the timing.)
And then there’s the taxes. We don’t get a discount for deciding we object to the nuclear weapons program or the latest foreign war. I suppose you shut your eyes and pretend your particular contribution is all going to food stamps, and someone else’s cash covers the objectionable stuff. Either that or you buy in to the whole “Whose face is on that coin?” thing.
[More limits on free exercise: We can’t even get out of the draft selectively — either you’re 100% pacifist, or you sign on for all wars at all times — no concept of just warfare as a religious principle to be actively lived by able-bodied men of military age.]
So what’s the big deal with the reproductive-services-funding mandate? Critics of the Church observe that the law is only asking for employers to pay for services that Americans overwhelmingly want, and that the medical industry considers perfectly good healthcare. You’ve got to be some kind of crazy fringe nutcase to object to wholesome American goodness like Sterilization and Apple Pie. (Correction: There might be a case for raising insurance rates on the people who eat the pie.)
And the answer is this: We grew up in late-20th America. We know freedom of religion isn’t perfectly administered, but we still believe in it. We practice it with compromises, but we do try to practice. Jews who actually keep kosher are not therefore excused from paying all their taxes, just because Federal cafeterias serve those scary puffed-up Not Hebrew National hot dogs. But we don’t therefore say the government has the power to require all employers everywhere pay for pork barbecue.
–> It would be understandable if some Jewish people found it objectionable to purchase a dozen bacon cheeseburgers for the guys at the sales meeting , even if there were other Jewish people who had no such reservations. We’d get it. We’d think that mandatory pork-purchasing — and being fined for failing to offer pork as a choice at the company cafeteria — was a stupid law.
We don’t think Chick-Fil-A should be required by law to be open on Sundays, even though other Christian businesses operate on those days. Likewise B&H Photo has a constitutional right not to process sales from Friday sundown till Saturday sundown. Even if there are employees who want to work during those times (and who need the hours!), or customers who wish to patronize the company during that time. We have a right to eat on Sundays, but the government doesn’t mandate that all grocery stores and restaurants be open on those dates.
The trouble with the contraception-sterilization mandate is that our government has decided these items are more like clean water or public safety, and further, our government has decided that every private employer in the United States is now the public agency tasked with delivering these goods.
The majority of Americans do not believe contraception and sterilization are immoral. They find the Catholic church is wrong wrong wrong on this matter. That is fine. But proper response is then, “Well, this is America. You have a right to be wrong.”
From the view of the majority, the next question is: “What will happen if we let these crazy fringe minority of people be excused from directly purchasing items they find objectionable?”
Our government says the answer is this:
Not directly purchasing your employees contraceptives would be like just giving them cash and saying, “Go buy your own bacon if it’s that important to you.”
And that would be wrong. Because there are limits on the freedom of religion. Your religion is known for not approving of certain products, but everyone else in America loves that product. Look, a lot of the people at your own house of worship are discretely eating the bacon, and usually the Rabbi doesn’t say much about it . . . you’re a threat to order and morality.
You must not just give your employees the cash. You must set up an account for unlimited purchases at Bacon Is Us. Or be fined. If you don’t like the stuff, don’t eat it.
Note that this is not about money. It would be entirely reasonable for the HHS to require that conscientious objectors simply pay their employees the necessary amount of cash to cover the cost of these services. That’s Living Wage 101, which the Catholic Church has been trying to explain since before ever the HHS saw light of day.
Employees could then purchase however much bacon contraception and sterilization coverage they wanted. Exact same amount of employer outlay. Exact same amount of contraception dispensed and reproductive powers eliminated. Only, it would respect the right of American citizens to practice their own religion.
7 Quick Takes: PSA’s
Many thanks to our hostess Hallie Lord, who is not taking attendance while Jen Fulwiler is on writing-leave, so hopefully I won’t be demoted for participating late.
1.
Funnix is running the free-download program again. I don’t see the deadline, but I’m going to guess it is only during February. (They did this last year. Thank you kind phonics people. Also thank you to my internet acquaintance Cynthia for pointing me and other moms to the link.) I have no particularly opinion on the program other than that some people like it and, look! free!
2.
I’ve entered this new special time in my life as an internet person, when I receive not just spam, but Catholic Spam. It’s sorta weird. But here’s the unsettling part: Sometimes I really cannot tell if I’ve gotten a Catholic-Spam Troll Form Letter, or if there’s a human who knows me (if only via a blog) and is trying to communicate useful information, but has accidentally written an e-mail that has the look-n-feel of Spamalot.
So anyway, the PSA is this: If you are a real live person who wanted to share a link or tell me about your great works, and the first time you e-mailed me it got lost in cyberspace and you never ever heard anything . . . just e-mail me again? Okay? With some extra words this time that maybe tell me how you know me (this blog, or the CWG, or you’re a friend of my friend’s cousin’s uncle-in-law, or whatever) and anything else that would help establish yourself as a sentient creature who knows my name.
Thanks!
4.
What kind of dog is this?
A stray dog. Possibly a lucky dog. Well, lucky whether he ends up here or moves to the local no-kill, where I’m sure he’ll find a home because he is both cute and nice. If energetic. My facebook friends are voting Jack Russell, with maybe some Fox Terrier or Bull Terrier. Any other votes?
5.
A few months ago I subscribed to the Jimmy Akin Secret Info Club. Yes, yes, of course it exists to help the man sell books. He writes good books. And no, the information is not truly secret . . . in the sense that comes from sources that people treat as classified documents but actually you are allowed to read them, such as the Bible, or the Catechism, or the writings of the Church fathers.
But hey, it’s a handy little newsletter. About once a month I get a short e-mail that is a refresher on some topic related to the faith — for example this month’s was on private vs. public revelation. Nothing earth-shattering, but sort of a continuing-ed workshop delivered straight your inbox. Worth checking out.
6.
It’s that time again. Allie Hathaway. Pray.
7.
If you like to write, go register for the Catholic Writers Conference Online. No, really. Even if you aren’t Catholic*. It is free, open to the public, and you can participate as much or as little as you like. Which means if you discover you hate it or you’d rather be learning something else that week, nothing lost. Because remember, free?
Registration closes . . . I’m not sure when. I thought March 1, but I don’t see the date, so I can’t be 100% sure. But look if you obey your local blogger and just sign up right now, it won’t matter when registration closes.
So what’s the catch?
You would be, in your own small way, cooperating with the mission of the Catholic Writers Guild. Which is to fill the world with more better writers.
*It is like attending any Catholic school, you have to be polite and not say mean things in class. But whereas the specific mission of the CWG is to promote Catholic writing and publishing, the online conference includes topics of interest to any writer. If you read here, you totally have what it takes to attend the online conference and enjoy it.
The Catholic Faith – Serve that shot neat, please.
Gun season opens Wednesday night at religious ed. It’s time to study the Sacrament of Confession, which means another exciting of round of the game I do love, Is it a Mortal Sin? I say things like, “If you commit a mortal sin, you need to go to Confession,” and “Here are the three conditions for a sin to be mortal.” Then I say something really outrageous, like, “Do you have any questions?”
This is the students’ cue to inquire about the pizza guy who got mugged, and what if a Nazi comes to your door*, and what do you do if you think the bad guy is going to shoot your best friend but you aren’t 100% sure . . . all that stuff.
Last year was surprisingly quiet on the shooting scenarios, though I did get asked if a person who murders his spouse is free to re-marry? (No.) But here’s what I love about teaching fifth graders: They want to know the answers. I’ve had more than one student ask if it were a sin for a soldier to shoot the enemy during combat — fully ready to accept that if that were the case (no), they’d need to put away the plastic Army men and think hard about how to break the news to friends and family.
The other fun part of 10,000 Gun Questions Night is keeping it strictly Catholic. I often hear a double complaint about the Church:
- How can we possibly have a firm teaching on anything?
- And if so, why don’t we have a firm teaching on everything?
As if it were somehow more logical to worship a god who gave out brains and then refused to let you use them. [Catholic moral theology tip: If God gives you something, He’s got a plan for how it’s supposed to be used. Thy body is not a knick knack.] The challenge with the 5th grade questions is that within the guidelines of just warfare and legitimate self-defense, Catholics are free to hold any number of opinions on what makes a good gun law, or whether those soldiers ought to be over there doing that.
***
I enjoy teaching as precisely as I can. To be as aware of the limits and definitions of Catholic doctrine as I am able, and therefore hopefully pass on a view of the faith that veers neither right nor left.
In the short run, I avoid undermining the student’s family, and I like that. If your mom has chained herself to the gate of a nuclear weapons facility, or your dad is president of Kids Need More Guns Inc., those are positions a Catholic of good will could hold and still be faithful to the teachings of the Church. At any age, students deserve to learn the faith without having it mixed up with personal opinion; in fifth grade it is particularly important to stay in the middle of the narrow road.
–> At ten and eleven, kids aren’t ready to form their own opinions on open questions. They do delight in wearing the opinions of the people they love. Politics is best left to parents. (It is bad enough I’ve got to break the news about divorce and remarriage, and also about how, yes, you really do need to come to Mass every week.) It makes for a better course if I acknowledge there is more than one legitimate opinion, and leave my own opinions home.
In the longer run, teaching plain old Catholicism gives students a firmer grounding in their faith. As they grow older and are wondering if Mom should have chosen a different sort of peaceful resistance, or maybe Dad carried it a tad too far in his love of the Bill of Rights, they have already been told that the Catholic faith is not the whole crazy package of everything every Catholic they ever loved might have said. They’ve already been told: You can disagree about _________________ and still be Catholic.
Teens and adults need to be able to sort through the world of ideas; the Faith has to stand up to testing, and it will. But to do that effectively, you have to know where the faith ends and opinion begins.
*Actually Nazis threaten the hypothetical doors of internet grown-ups much more than they disturb 5th graders. 10-year-olds tend to stick to situations being reported in the local news. But sometimes, yes, the Nazis make their appearance.