Joe Wetterling – Ho Kai Paulos – It’s Up!

 

Joe Wetterling, who is one of my all-time favorite presenters for the Catholic Writers Guild, has relaunched his catechetical website, Ho Kai Paulos.  Which means something to some of you, and the rest of us can look here for the explanation.  I always have to remind myself it’s not a Hawaiian island or a Korean pork dish.  (But there could eventually be a mixed drink by the name, I’m sure.)

Joe W. makes my favorites list because he’s well-read, and insightful, and hilarious, and as best I can tell a nice guy on top of all that.  He re-opens his site with a 101 on Objective vs. Subjective.  Which reminds me of the other thing I like about the guy: He explains things that matter in plain English. If you need to bring a catechist up to speed, this is the place.

Should the Pope Just Shut Up?

Minor update: Joanne McPortland best represents my thoughts on the fateful interview itself here.  I told her not to tell.  Now the whole Italian intelligentsia’s going to be in on the game. Hah.  But she writes a good article.

***

 

I tend to roll with the working assumption that the Pope is Catholic.

So when I read a pope’s writings, I read them through the lens “these are things a Catholic guy is saying.”

Now you can err with this method, because (a) the Pope could be a horrible person and/or a heretic and (b) even saintly Doctors of the Church sometimes think wrong.  Catholics do not hold that everything a pope says or does is free from error.  Some things, yes, free from error, for certain.  But it’s a mighty short list.

So.

We have a chatty Pope.  And this is driving a portion of faithful Catholicdom nuts, because he’s not Mr. Careful and Precise.  He just says stuff.  Quite a bit of which can be interpreted all the wrong way.  So there’s a call afoot for the Holy Father to quit talking so much, and maybe try some of that ignatian silence for a change.  Quit going off-script.  Quit improvising. Count every word and make every word count.

I disagree, and here are my reasons:

1. You can’t shut up talkative people.  It’s like holding back the tide.  If Pope Francis tried to be formal and scripted, what we’d end up with is 10 casual comments slipped a week instead of 10,000.  10 would be enough to keep the media frenzy going.

2. People who improvise need to talk a lot in order to be properly understood. Late in life I figured out that if I go around sometimes giving a bad impression by saying just the wrong thing here and there at odd moments, it’s possible other people do, too.  Ever call up customer service, get the one guy who’s having a lousy day, and thereby assume The Company Hates You?  Well, maybe they do.  But maybe you got the one guy at his one bad moment.

People who stick to script can say very little and be understood.  They weigh every word, and it all comes out just right.  Goofballs have to talk a lot.  Because it’s only by many conversations, collected up over time, that we get an accurate impression of the improviser.

3. If the Pope’s Catholic, the media is going to be obtuse.  That’s how it is. No amount of careful will cause the secular media to suddenly learn to think clearly and understand what Catholics are really up to.  When someone is willfully ignorant, they’re willfully ignorant.  The best teacher cannot thwart a determined will, dead set against learning the truth.

4. If the Pope’s not Catholic, it would be nice to know.  I haven’t seen anything out of Pope Francis that can’t be squared with orthodoxy.  I’ve seen plenty that could be misinterpreted as not-so-orthodox, especially if you are willfully ignorant per #3.  The most recent interview definitely has some statements that could throw off the the sincere believer, unless you’d spent a lot of time chatting with atheists.  But if you’ve spent a lot of time chatting with atheists, and you read the interview as a conversation with an atheist being reported by an atheist, it all makes quite a lot of sense.

But let’s say that it’s all a ruse.  A very bad ruse.  Perhaps the Pope is indeed a new age-y heretic. Perhaps he’s leading us to doom one beach ball at a time.  Perhaps the next big move will be church music so insipid Chant Cafe will start extolling the virtues of the folk Mass.  And thus the cracks are starting to show.

Better to know now.

Think about it.  If your pastor were a heretic, wouldn’t you want to know now? Forewarned, you could make arrangements to move Birmingham, or wear ear plugs during the homily, or go to Mexico to get your sacraments.  Or would you rather the man kept a good face on as long as possible, to ensure your children drifted from the faith one drop of doubt at a time?

***

I certainly hope that’s not the case.  I’m sympathetic with those who’ve been poisoned by so much wishy-washy faithy-ism that their dissent-detectors are set to 1 part per billion. But regardless of whether the fellow’s a wolf or just a doubtfully-dressed* shepherd, better that the truth be out.

So I vote for talkative Pope.

*It does not bother me when the Pope dresses badly.  I come from a long line of engineering-types, some of them color-blind.  Nothing says “il Papa dressed himself” quite like dubious fashion choices.

Plague Week – Things to Read, Buy, Be Happy About, Etc.

Plague week here at the castle.  We started light with a round of coughing and sneezing, and just when we thought we were in the clear (thank you, praying friends), in entered Part 2: Stomach Virus Edition.  Miserable child now in quarantine, and teen boy being left to sleep, because this waking up business is getting overrated.

Meanwhile, things to read:

1. Up this morning at New Evangelizers, my thoughts on what to do with very bad priests, and other sinners who haunt our parishes.  You know you’ve done something right when this guy (the one at the top of the pile) e-mails you with his favorite quote from your column.  Happy day.  (I’ll leave you to pick out your own.)

2. Here, I say all kinds of things about what’s going on exciting in the Catholic Writers Guild. By “warm fuzzy feeling”, I mean both the usual understanding of the phrase, and the kind of warm fuzzy that grows in the vegetable bin if left unchecked.  You get both.  Consider running for office, it’s great.

3. More me, possibly fuzzy, and other smart people, less fuzzy:  Links here to my CWG radio gig the other day, and to the Catholic Underground, who picked up on the thoughts of this guy.  I had no idea the USCCB put out its own style guide.  I want one.  Sort of.

4. I don’t think I’ve posted here since I put up my review at AC of the Arma Dei coloring catechism-y things.  Short version: They are really cool, and loaded with content.  One packet, carefully chosen, will last your class the whole year.  In the same review, I mention the Inklings game from Cactus (scroll down on the page).  What I don’t mention: When I saw the game this summer at CMN, I was totally stoked, because it completely affirmed me in one of things I said in my book.

5. People who teach well: Christina LeBlanc.  Sure, I knew he said smart stuff and wrote a really good book, and he doesn’t expect snacks with his beer, which is to his credit, for certain.  And then I heard him talk this weekend.  Wow.  I totally want that man on the speaking circuit.  Big time.  Great presenter.

Book him now while he doesn’t cost as much.  Videos.  I want a video series.  Someone put that man in front of a camera.

6. I’m once again affirmed at home on the effectiveness of quiz games for teaching. My littles are both acquiring vocabulary and liking Latin, learned via the shiny flashcards from Classical Academic Press, which are well-suited to about about 5,000 different games.  Yes, I know, juvenile: A talking monkey is what it takes for us to get school done.  But hey, the talking monkey sells to my younger crowd.  Song School 2 DVD is finally coming out, and they have a coupon code for 20% off, which applies to either the DVD alone, or the whole shebang.  From my e-mail:

20% Pre-order Discount Code: SSL2DVD 

Valid through Oct 6th. Product ships on or before Oct 7th

BONUS – Free SSL2 Coloring Pages HERE!

7. Meanwhile, what we’re using for Latin until the Monkey arrives (and then some), is this:

Patricius et Hilda, Alone in Rome

Mr. Dunphy is a local, and I bought his textbook used off a friend whose son was in Mr. D’s class and loved the book.  Now it’s available to the general public here: https://www.createspace.com/3955399.  The book follows the adventures of a pair of escaped slaves; the text is in English, with gradually more and more Latin mixed in.  At the end of each chapter there’s a vocabulary list and a set of exercises.  There’s also a bit of Irish, because, you know, why not?

Another homeschooling friend says her kids love the book too.  Suitable as an intro to Latin for boys ages 4 and up, and for girls a little bit older.  Because: Swords.  Figure for the less-violent types, target age is 2nd – 8th grade, but it’s fun for grown-ups, definitely.

More like this, Latin scholars.  Please oh please.

***

8. Reason #648 I’m happy this week: Simcha Fisher agrees with me about something.  Yes, I am that cool.  Simcha Fisher looked at my blog.  I’m pretty stoked.  She’s my hero.

 

That was fast.

Whoever prayed for the SuperHusband’s ribs, THANK YOU.  It worked.  Now please apply your efforts to Hathaway’s lungs.  Thanks.

(PS: People tell me the radio thing sounded good enough.  So double-thanks on that one.)

And two things to read:

Chris T. on when and how to give to a worthy cause.

Pope Francis on just about everything.

On the radio, no one knows you’re wearing clothes.

Speaking of swimsuits . . . Just back from a quick round of field research* on the Gulf of Mexico (Happy 90th, Grandma!), on the agenda today:

1. A selection of CWG officers are chatting today on Radio Maria with Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers, 11AM EST.  You can listen online, or if 11AM finds you obliged to be all responsible, click on the podcast later.

2. I’ll try not to sound all goofy like I did in the recording of my interview with Teresa Tomeo.  I didn’t post the recording (because: goofy), but her thoughts on Catholics in the media are up at CWG.  When I grow up, I want my talking points to sound as smooth as hers do.

3. Last Saturday I wrote about sex ed resources at CatholicMom.com. For Mater et Magistra subscribers, a more comprehensive round-up of TOTB stuff for parents and their kids is out in print in the summer issue. Summary: You have no excuse.  Teach your kids (and yourself as needed) up from down, right from wrong.  You can do it.

4. Homeschool co-op is going great.  Mostly.

Prayer requests:

(a) that I wouldn’t sound more geeky than necessary today on the radio

(b) that Jon & I would discern correctly on whether to become presenters for Family Honor

(c) that I’d get my Apologetics for Kids class cleaned up and better suited to the vast range of ages of present

(d) that John Hathaway’s lung would go back where it belongs, and stay there.

Thanks.

Also (e) that the SuperHusband’s dislocated ribs would behave and heal quickly.

Double thanks!

 

*Conclusion: Dolphins look great just as they are.  Also, my family is pretty cool.

Is it possible to call something immodest? Why and how?

A few photos courtesy of wikimedia to clarify my question for Dr. Greg.  He writes, and he’s not the only person to write this, “Modesty requires that we dress in a manner that we deem appropriate . . .”

The gist of his approach, if I understand it correctly — and I think I do not — is this:

If we cultivate a non-lustful, considerate and loving personality, and furthermore make it our policy to try to dress appropriately, we’ll have this modesty thing in the bag.

(Quoting no one here.  Just summarizing my understanding of the position.  Which I assume is faulty.)

This puzzles me, because I keep running into people who are, to the best of knowledge, pure, kind, loving people, but who wear very little clothing.  And I think, “Someone needs to tell them to wear more clothes!”

And other people say, “You’re so fussy!  Stop thinking the worst about everybody!”

(Which is silly, since I don’t think the worst about them, I just wish they’d wear more clothes. Assuming I think something bad about them is thinking the worst about me.  But no matter.)

So my question: Is it possible, in a given time and place — for example, in the Catholic Church in suburban America in 2013 — to assert objective standards of modesty?  Or does everyone get an A for effort, as long as their intentions are good?

For example, if our pious, generous, and hard-working Knights of Columbus started turning out at Mass like this:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/34/Schwarze_Glanzradlerhose.JPG

Is that okay?  Is it modest?  Who says yes or no?

If our talented and devoted baritones eschew the choir robes and rejoice in the Lord this way:

File:Gymnasts (5892730197).jpg

Is this okay?  Would our pastor be overstepping his bounds to gently inform the fellows they need to put a shirt on?

And what about Fr. E, anyhow? He’s a hip guy.  Tight pants, or skipping the pants altogether and just going with leggings, are the norm anymore.  Of course he’d do it in clerical black, and change out the sequins for a clerical collar, but could he wear this:

File:Roberto Bolle La Bayadere Royal Ballet.JPG

. . . and be called “modest”?

No copping out.  Don’t hide behind, “It’s tacky” or “it’s unfashionable” or “it doesn’t blend in” or “wrong sport”.  No assuming the worst about people — we’ll assume the gentlemen are genuinely trying to be modest.  Assume also, for the sake of the question, that around our little corner of suburbia, many guys dress this way as they go about their daily business.

Are these acceptably modest street clothes for work / church / ordinary social events?  Yes or no?  Why or why not?

 

Photos:
Bike shorts: by Lord copplepot (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Gymnasts: By Quinn Dombrowski from Berkeley, USA (Gymnasts) [CC BY-SA 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons
Ballet Dancer: By Scillystuff (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 or GFDL], via Wikimedia Commons
 

Modesty with Dr. P, part 2

Dr. Greg responds to my comments here, and they are worth a good long look.

Meanwhile, deep in his post he writes this:

So, am I saying that a woman, or man for that matter, should dress any damn way they want without regard for anyone around them?  Should we all parade around naked defying the world to look upon us with purity of mind and heart?  Of course not.  We are all fallen.  Even though we can’t cause feelings in another person, we know that acting in a certain manner tends to create a certain set of emotional choices for most people, given what is expected in a particular context. Modesty requires that we dress in a manner that we deem appropriate for the context we are in and in a way that is not intended to make it unduly difficult for any reasonable person to see anything other than our physical appearance.

And this is what I want to hear more about.

Modesty and Agency

Dr. Greg Popcack unravels the much-cited bikini study, and sheds some useful light on a point I’ve always suspected: Jerks think differently than decent guys. I haven’t seen the study myself, but I trust he’s reporting accurately — as it happens, what he reports is far more informative than the previous accounts.

***

Now for where we differ.

In the process, Dr. P reveals the fault line in the modesty debates: Those who fall for the “internal control fallacy”, and those, like himself, who think it’s all just a fallacy.  (Conclusion: Ladies, what you wear doesn’t matter so much.  No one’s brought up whether men can do likewise, but you know how I feel about that.)

I find myself in the middle of this divide, and here’s why: I’m a writer.  It’s my job to make people think things.

The thoughts that follow are not a commentary on the technical meaning of the “internal control fallacy” as discussed among experts.  They are a layperson’s thoughts on the closely related notion: Do my actions affect other people’s thinking?

Back up for a moment, and let’s consider Dr. P’s job.  The man makes his living spending long hours helping the family members of crazy people sort out their lives.  And when you live with a crazy person, you live with blaming.  “If only you would do ________, then I wouldn’t be this way.”

The loving, helpful relative tries to meet spec.  If only I were good enough.  If only I had been kinder / more responsible / less irritable / more patient / something – anything – to stave off this dreadful fate.

Crazy people like to blame.  It’s not irrational behavior if there’s a reason for it, right?

An essential part of therapy for the family members is learning how to set boundaries.  It is reasonable for me to go on vacation with my immediate family, and if grandma goes on a drinking binge because I didn’t call in every half hour, that’s not my fault.  It is reasonable for me to go out with the girls once a month, and if Mr. Unfaithful uses my night out as an excuse for his adultery, that’s not my fault.  I can’t control these irrational reactions.  I’m not responsible for someone else’s response to my behavior.

Except when I am.  The other essential part of living with a crazy person is learning what’s normal.  It’s not normal to be furious that so-and-so missed my birthday party (even if I wish she could have come).  It is normal to be upset that so-and-so sent around hate mail to all my facebook friends, keyed my car, and kicked my puppy.  Certain actions should bother me, other ones shouldn’t.

And thus as a writer, I get in trouble if I make people upset when I shouldn’t.  It’s my job to edify, to encourage, even to reprove, but it’s not my job to make people feel like dirt.  Which I could do (and I try not to do).  My words and actions do have power over other people.

Otherwise, why bother?  What good having the ability to act, if my actions do nothing?  What good living in community, if in fact my actions have no meaning or import to the others in my community?  Why avoid evil, if it hurts nobody? Why do good, if it helps nobody?  It ceases to be good or evil.  It’s just nothing.

So the fallacy in the modesty debates is in the false dichotomies, and this is where I depart from Dr. P.  I think that men and women communicate not just with their intentions, but with their actions.  Modesty is an inward disposition, but isn’t only an inward disposition.  It is also an outward action.  A woman can be offended by a man’s immodesty, even if she doesn’t therefore dehumanize or brutalize him.

An employer can reasonably say, “Sir, your dress is immodest, and unbecoming of a man of your profession.  If you’d like to continue working here, you’ll have to change.”

A man can reasonably tell his son, “My beloved child, that outfit you’ve chosen is associated with pimps and crack dealers.  Is that the message you’d like to send with your clothing?”

A girl can reasonably tell her suitor, “You look like a creep.  Like the kind of guy who just wants to hop in the sack at the first opportunity.  That may not be the message you’re trying to send, but you’re sending it.”

***

Part 2, now going off on a different line of thought, that follows from my thoughts above, and is separate from what’s being said in Dr. P’s post.

Can the same action have different meanings across times and places?  Certainly.  The accidental offending-of-the-natives is an enduring sub-genre of the travel narrative.  It is reasonable to question whether customs have changed.  Whether modesty that was once preserved via _________ standard is now preserved in some other manner.

It is also reasonable to propose that certain standards are just plain wrong.  If I visit Fisher More, I’ll of course respect my host’s standards, and think very little of it. I’m not going to quibble over a standard a little more conservatiive than my own.  But If I visit Lower Repressistan, and my hosts expect me to surround myself with drywall lest I upset the the native males, guess what?  They are wrong.

It could be right that skirts ought to go below the knees, it could be right that thank you notes are always handwritten, or that you don’t show up to dinner empty-handed.  But it is definitely not right that women be completely shielded from public view, nor that dinner or a gift requires sexual favors for a thank you.  Those things are wrong.  We can disagree about what is right, and still be quite certain about what is wrong.

 

 

Come See Me Listen!

If you subscribe to all the right diocesan newspapers, you might have seen this advertisement: 09052013 St Francis Shop ad.

Summary: You should attend On Fire with Faith.  Not to hear me speak, but to watch me listen to the likes of this guy. Who is way smarter than me.  And thus I quote him in my book, which you could get signed in between workshops, when I wander over to indulge my preponderant vice, spending too much money on books*.

Sheesh – get it signed by both of us, and get Christian’s book** signed, too.  I’m not speaking. I’m listening.  Good slate of presentations.

The Bible Tells Me So

*People have figured this out about me.  Remember that birthday party situation?  I didn’t plan it this way, but it turns out large numbers of people figured the best solution to their penance problem was to spend alms getting me gift certificates for the local Catholic bookstore***.  Smart friends! So now, to shop.  Must make self wish list.

**Christian’s book is at least as good as mine.

***A few people picked up on some of my other vices — coffee, tea, chocolate, scotch, wine, alternative book-buying locations, etc.  I had no idea you got presents at grown-up birthday parties.  Kind of overwhelming.  I have the coolest friends.

Verse and Censure for the Feast Day + Chris Tollefsen at Public Discourse

Since we’ve been speaking of wealth ’round here lately . . . a limerick for today’s feast:

When faced with a room full of clutter,

I’ve been known to piously utter,

“Help me to know,

what should stay, what should go?

Oh blessed Teresa of Calcutta!”

 

In other news: Chris Tollefsen writes brilliantly at Public Discourse today.  I’m a shameless Chris T. fan, so no surprise that I like the message.  But I don’t get to say it as often as I’d like: This is far and away his best piece ever.  That I’ve seen, anyhow.  Go take a look.

In places NOT to look: Front Porch Republic, which I subscribe to but very rarely read, because publishing just a snippet for the feed reader is a very effective way to discourage me from reading your work, recently ran a piece about liturgy and limericks.  The idea was spot on, unfortunately the chosen limericks were dreadfully lewd.  Really? Was that necessary?  No it was not.

To which end, perhaps not the most incisive wit, but making the same point as the FPR piece:

The rabbit who traveled by plane

said, “Security can be such a pain.

They opened my baggage,

and out fell my cabbage,

and I had to re-pack it again.”

The point FPR was making?  A good genre, delightful in its context, is not necessarily the right genre for the holy liturgy.   And another example, same rabbit theme, we have quite the collection growing*:

To my door came a poor little bunny,

who needed to earn some money,

“I’ll cut your grass for a dime,

one bite at a time–“

But in the end, the lawn looked quite funny.

See?  Perfectly moral, g-rated limericks.  It can be done. And the argument FPR wants to make is stronger when you acknowledge the genre isn’t used soley for smut. Show tunes are wrong at Mass not because Hollywood’s a den of sin, or because the cabaret / jazz / pop sound is always and everywhere associated with immorality.  It’s because these types of music are about something else — something that can be beautiful and true and good and inspiring — but it’s something other than the worship of God.

And thus a final contribution for today:

On the feast of Teresa of Calcutta,

this pundit is likely to mutter,

“You’re housed and you’re fed,

but your brain is half dead,

’till you rescue your wit from the gutter.”

Happy Feast Day.  Straighten up and fly right, FPR.

*The limerick fest began because, to my genuine shock and surprise, no irony there, my teenage boy does not love his poetry course for literature.  I was stunned.  A teenager? Not like poetry?  Really?  It’s all about love, death and self-centered dramatizing . . . that should be just the thing!  Certainly was for me at that age.  SuperHusband wisely suggested we begin with something a little lighter.  And thus I succeeded, not in converting my skeptical teen, but in launching a festival of animal-themed verse among the the two youngest.

I’ll take my victories where I can.

Meanwhile, any poetry recommendations for less-romantic, very modern boys, who mostly read Dr. Boli?

Rabbit Photo: Larry D. Moore [CC BY-SA 3.0 or GFDL], via Wikimedia Commons