Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy

Five for Sorrow, Ten for Joy refers to the total number of decades in the complete rosary—fifteen ... as it used to be before the addition of the five Luminous Mysteries. It is also Rumer Godden’s title for an incredible book about the lives of women, real women—suffering, tainted, fallen women, modern-day Mary Magdalenes. It is fiction and yet it is set in a very real historical context and based on an actual society of sisters, the Sisters of Bethany, many of whom were former prostitutes and prisoners who through Grace and the ministry of other sisters, gave their lives over to God and ministering to the poor, the outcast and the imprisoned.

The story centers around Lise, or Elizabeth Fanshawe, an innocent, young British woman caught up in the liberation of Paris at the end of World War II. Swept away in the delirious debauchery of the time period, Lise finds herself far from home, and totally dependent on a man who runs a brothel when the post-war madness finally ebbs. Oh, and she has the bad fortune of being in love with him as well.

From the beginning of the story we know Lise has a deforming scar on her face and that she has gone from bordello, to years in prison, only to enter a third form of ‘bondage’, a convent. But why? And how is such a transition possible? Who is Vivi? Why has Lucette followed Lise? What is the significance of the rosary to the English Elizabeth, raised Protestant, turned prostitute, then prisoner, finally cloistered nun? These are some of the many questions the story confronts us with as we try to put all the pieces together.

Ms. Godden’s novel is intriguing from start to finish, both as a story and as a commentary on human weaknesses, the longing for God and the never-ending struggle to overcome the self. Two of my favorite passages are these:

'It was a revelation to the aspirants that the sisters, some of them elderly impressive nuns, filled with quiet holiness, should publicly admit their faults. Could Soeur Imelda de Notre Dame, the calm saintly person, really have snapped sharply at anyone? Could Soeur Marie Dominique have lost her temper? “Then do you go on being you until the end? they could have moaned. “Even after all this trying and training?” “Always,” Soeur Théodore would have told them. It was a good thing Compline finished with a prayer to Mary Magdalen: “Intercede and pray without ceasing for us, Marie Magdaleine, you who are most close to our Lord Jesus.”' (page 156)

'“I wish I had your imperturbability,” said Lise.
It was not just a shell; Lise herself could keep her face and voice in control when in reality she was in turnmoil; this was deeper—the nuns were not perturbed over things like this. “When you have seen as much of God’s providence as I have,” said Soeur Raymonde, as any of the nuns would have said, “seen the unfathomable ways in which He works, if you have any sense at all, you learn not to question or to judge—only to trust.”' (page 212)

Prayer and trust: two simple words, two powers actions.

For those familiar with Ms. Godden’s better known novel, In This House of Brede, Five For Sorrow picks up some of the same themes and re-examines them in a new light. However, although both books deal with convent life, they are totally different stories. Which is better? I’d be hard pressed to say. They are both excellent!

Mental Prayer, Part 7

A leper came to him (and kneeling down) begged him and said, "If you wish, you can make me clean." ~~ Mark 1:40

Today I finally—and somewhat reluctantly—finished Dom Chautard’s, The Soul of the Apostolate. I’m also almost finished with Pope Benedict’s The Spirit of the Liturgy. Both books have been long, slow, meditative reads—unlike what I usually do, which is to “gobble” my books.

It’s interesting when you read two classic works simultaneously; you get to see how the thoughts of Great Minds—separated by time, space and even death—can sometimes synchronize. The Scripture above, interestingly enough comes from a selection I was reading in the Pope’s book and not Chautard’s, but it seemed a very appropriate lead in to what will be the last post in this particular series, and hopefully just the beginning of something even bigger.

In his book, Chautard recommends daily Mass; in his book, the Holy Father shows us why participation in the Liturgy is essential to our ‘transformation by it into the Logos (logisiert), conformed to Him and made the true Body of Christ.’ (page 174)

Making time for Mass is one thing, participating is another. For a fuller appreciation of our Catholic Liturgy, I cannot recommend a better guide than this incredible book by Pope Benedict, for all it is not the easiest text by him, nor is he writing at the usual 8th grade level of most popular Christian books today.

However, this series being about mental prayer, I want to leave you with what I have learned—thus far—from my repeated efforts to persist in fidelity to mental prayer. Some of these “lessons” are practical and some philosophical. I debated dividing them up but found that impossible, so here they are. The list is in no way authoritative, nor definitive, nor do I claim originality. Most likely everything I write has been recorded before by those much holier, wiser and more experienced than me. That’s just fine. This is my list and my experiences. If they are helpful to anyone, I am most humbly grateful; if not, it has still helped me to compile this list. Mostly I'm just deeply humbled and grateful for all I've learned. What I share below is just a fraction of it.


1. Schedule time for mental prayer every day-no matter what! Some sources recommend thirty minutes; others say we should give a minimum of an hour to our mental prayer each day. Seek the counsel of your spiritual director and/or confessor based on your particular vocation and current life requirements. But whatever, you decide, be faithful to daily mental prayer. If you know you will not be able to accomplish your prayer first thing in the morning, make sure you do it as soon as possible.

2. Prepare for the next morning’s mental prayer by thinking and praying about it the night before. Lay out your materials: breviary, rosary, Bible, prayer books, cards, icons, notes, lists, etc. Decide (if possible) what will be the focus of your prayer time. I found this to be a vital first step as I often wasn’t sufficiently awake first thing in the morning to make important decisions. However, if everything was organized and ready, things went much more smoothly.

3. Begin by asking the Holy Spirit for the Grace to pray well. Invoke your Guardian Angel’s protection. Often formal prayers are/were a good way to start, especially if I was tired. Many days I read from the Daily Readings and used those as ‘launching pad’ for discussion. However, it wasn’t long before, I found my own faults and failings provided plenty of material! This brings me to the opening quote from the leper—when I read that today it jumped out at me because it reminded me of something God and I had been talking about earlier today. Since I’ve begun mental prayer, the daily readings at Mass have come ALIVE! They breathe with the fire of the Holy Spirit, like they never did before.

4. Invite Jesus to sit down next to you or across from you. Find or place a favorite chair near yours so that you may talk to Him one-on-one. Or, if you prefer, kneel down in front of Him. Sitting or kneeling, you are in His Presence and He is in yours. Be with Him. He is with you. Close your eyes if you want. See Him in your mind. Talk to Him ... silently or aloud. Begin by telling Him how much you love Him and need Him. Know He loves you as well!

5. Accept that you are with Jesus . . . wherever your mind goes. This is NOT to say we shouldn't bring our attention back to Our Lord each and every time we become aware it has wandered off; it is only recognition and acceptance that, in His eyes, we are but spiritual children and He knows our weaknesses and understands our struggles. I will write more about this later when I begin a new series on the Interior Life, delving into Santa Teresa’s beautiful book, Interior Castle, but for now, think of Jesus as you would a benevolent parent or trusted spouse. Even when you are with your beloved, you have your moments of time where each of you think your own thoughts. This is understood and accepted by married couples and loving families everywhere. Why should Our Lord, who made you, knows and loves you better even than your own mother, expect what is impossible from His children? The answer is, He doesn’t. He wants us to strive and keep striving for perfection. With His Grace, may we always do as much. There is much more to be said on this particular point. However, in the meantime, let no one be unduly harsh with him/herself in this matter, nor set unreasonably high expectations.

6. Use holy objects which help you begin or refocus your prayer. These items may include, but are not limited to: candles, icons, prayer cards, rosaries/chaplets, statues, spiritual reading(s), and lists of things to talk about and/or people to pray for. If such aids will or might help you, consider keeping them near your prayer chair for those particularly dry times; it’s comforting to have something to fall back on.

7. And last but not least, what about Interruptions? Interruptions used to throw me into a positive tizzy! I tried turning off the phone, locking myself in my room, putting signs on the front door, wearing ear plugs, etc., all in an effort to get myself some quiet in a noisy home with children. Sooner or later, all my efforts backfired. Finally I settled on a simple rule of thumb: all interruptions come from God to further test my patience. I can either accept them gracefully or what is the point of my prayer time? However, accepting them, doesn’t mean I have to respond to them all equally. Now I start my prayer time before anyone else (except my dear hubby) is awake so the kids, phone and doorbell usually aren’t the problems they once were. Still, if the phone or cat or child(ren) do happen to enter during prayer time, I deal with it/him/her/them accordingly. Then, if the prayer session is less than ½ over, I go back and finish it; if the interruption occurs after the midway point, I call it a day.

‘Mental prayer is a furnace, in which the watch-fires of vigilance are constantly rekindled. Fidelity to mental prayer gives life to all our other pious exercises. By it, the soul will gradually acquire vigilance and a spirit of prayer, that is, a habit of ever more frequent recourse to God. Union with God in mental prayer will lead to intimate union with Him, even in the midst of our most absorbing occupations.

The soul, thus living in union with God, by custody of the heart, will draw down into itself, more and more, the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the infused virtues, and perhaps God will call it to a higher degree of prayer.’ ~~ Dom Chautard, page 292, "The Soul of the Apostolate"

This is my closing prayer for this series . . . and the promise of more to come!

In Him,

Mental Prayer, Part 6

“Let nothing disturb thee; Let nothing dismay thee; All thing pass; God never changes. Patience attains All that it strives for. He who has God Finds he lacks nothing: God alone suffices.” ~~ St. Teresa of Ávila

“Be gentle to all, and stern with yourself.” ~~ St. Teresa of Ávila

One of the (many) things I like about Santa Teresa de Jesús is the way she seems to contradict herself. I contradict myself too. But then if you read Jesus carefully in Holy Scripture even He seems to say one thing and turn around and say almost the opposite a few chapters later. Know what I mean?¹

We humans are a complicated and contradictory lot. But then Life is a strange and confusing journey at times, isn’t it?

So what does Teresa mean when she says on one hand that patience attains all, but on the other to be stern with ourselves? Which is it? And is she even referring to prayer in these quotes? Good questions! With Teresa, one never knows ... exactly—which is why it is very dangerous to take her out of context, just as it is to take Our Lord's words apart from, or out of, Holy Scripture. And even reading her writing in context, one must be very careful, as she freely admitted, which is why she was stern with herself; she knew herself. She knew and recognized her own shortcomings—and that is the real point of that second quote.

Recently when I was reading Father Christopher Renger's The 33 Doctors of the Church, I discovered Teresa’s title was “Doctor of Prayer”. In light of what I've been trying to write about and do in my own life, I was amazed by this. And yet, why so? If we Catholics truly believe that it's God who passionately loves us and initiates all, then why is it so strange to think that our patron saints choose us and are actively involved in our lives?

Ever since watching the mini-series on Santa Teresa many years ago, I’ve been drawn to her like a fly to honey. I share her enthusiasm for books, love her sense of humor, have a deep affection for my brother and know I possess all of her faults without having yet acquired her virtues. Still, when I visited her home town of Ávila (in 2007) I begged for her help and protection—and believe she is giving it to me every day.

In a previous post, I spoke about my firm belief in the Communion of Saints. Every time we say the Rosary or the Creed, we say, “I believe in the Communion of Saints!” Do we mean it? Do we really mean it?! We call – and call on – our earthly friends all the time, but what about our Heavenly ones? They are nearest Him who we profess to love. They long to help us in our prayer. Ask them to help you. Beg for their help every time you pray ... which is also becoming the poor beggar.

Begin all things in prayer and be a beggar when you pray.

'“To make a lame man walk without a limp is less absurd than to try and succeed without Thee, my Savior” (St. Augustine). Why do my resolutions bear no fruit? It can only be because my belief that “I can do all things” is not followed by; “in Him Who strengtheneth me.” And this brings me, then, to that part of my prayer which is in certain respects the most important of all: supplication, or the language of hope.

Without Your grace, Jesus, I can do nothing. And there is absolutely nothing that entitles me to it, Yet I know that my ceaseless prayers, far from irking You, will determine the amount of help You will give me, if they reflect a thirst to belong to You, distrust in myself, and an unlimited, not to say mad, confidence in Your Sacred Heart. Like the Canaanite woman, I cast myself at Your feet, O infinite goodness. With her persistence, full of humility and hope, I ask You not for a few crumbs but a full share in this banquet of which You said: “My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me.”' ~~DOM JEAN-BAPTISTE CHAUTARD, O.C.S.O.

Which Beloved of God has chosen you? Is calling to you ... asking you to continue 'to do the will of Him' by following in that Saint's footsteps?



¹ Matthew 10:34 and Matthew 26:52

Margaret Sanger and the Birth Control Movement in America

While I’m no author, I would think a really good biography¹—one that does justice to the life of its subject—would be one of the hardest of books to write. If such is the case, then a biography about someone who’s devoted his or her life to a controversial cause, such as Margaret Sanger did with birth control must be the toughest nut to crack. In Woman of Valor: Margaret Sanger and the Birth Control Movement in America, Ellen Chesler undertook a difficult task and executed it well. She managed to walk the camera of her author’s eye all the way around the complex character of the poor Irish-American girl baptized Catholic who grew up to hate that same church so much she threatened to leave the country if John F. Kennedy were elected President, nevertheless a hallow threat from a dying old woman. While Chesler’s portrayal is no doubt sympathic, it is not unduly so; she is willing to look at the world from Sanger’s perspective—who would trust a biographer unwilling to do at least that much—yet she also feels no compunction about pointing out Sanger’s character flaws, contradictions, and many detractors.

As a biographer, Chesler covers the main events of Sanger’s life from birth to death without going into tabloid details, a point which I appreciated very much. Perhaps this could be ascribed as an effort to improve the image of her subject; I prefer to believe it is an indication of the author’s tact, class and integrity. Regardless of what one thinks of another person’s politics or religious views, it still isn’t necessary to drag up endless details of dead affairs. Sanger was no saint, which goes without saying; more than that isn’t relevant.

In fact, it often seemed this biography was as much about the history of birth control in America as it was the story of a woman’s life. Before Sanger took on ‘the cause’ which came to be associated with her name almost as Freud’s is with Psychoanalysis, ‘The Comstock Law of 1873 made it a crime to sell or distribute materials that could be used for contraception’.

‘Birth control’ or ‘family planning’, as it later came to be called much to Sanger’s horror² is an incredibly complex topic. I read this book to gain a greater understanding of the history behind it. Taken in conjunction with abortion, it is probably the most multi-faceted issue facing our country today—and the least understood. Besides the obvious male—female aspect, there are also the following polar perspectives: married—single; law—justice; wealthy—poor; truth—lie; society—individual; freedom—responsibility; young—old; life—death; government—taxpayer; government—citizen; government—family; religious believer—non-believer; God—human. These are not in any particular order, nor is the list complete. In various ways throughout the book, Chesler shows how Sanger encountered and dealt with the factional partisan nature of her chosen vocation.

While not comprehensive by any means, I do recommend this biography as an introduction to the person and the topic. It does not include any of Sanger’s writings, yet I do believe anyone just reading what the crusader wrote without knowing the background context of her life would do themselves as much a disservice as they would Sanger; she was often battling specific individuals, groups, political parties and governments. Whether or not you agree with her position—and I obviously don’t—it becomes all the more critical in a situation such as this, not to come into the middle of a conversation you don’t understand. I have already forgotten more than I ever dreamed I didn’t know about the history of the birth control movement in our country early last century—and I finished the book just a few weeks ago. Anyone reading this review in a few months, or more, shouldn't bother to ask me any questions of detail. The book is chock full of facts and figures, whereas my head is sieve for that type of information.

But if you want to learn about Margaret Sanger and her role in the birth control cause, read Chesler’s book and . . . don’t stop there!

That concludes my 'official' review of this book which I was planning to post today, the Feast of Pentecost, birthday of the Church and conclusion of the Easter Season. It seemed auspicious to remind those who profess to believe in the One, True God that our work here on earth is far from over. However, as I have just learned of this morning's murder of George Tiller, late-term abortionist, it also seems especially telling that issues Sanger battled all her life are as relevant today as they ever were...and just as controversial.


¹ This book is at least three times as thick as The Margaret Sanger Story: and the Fight for Birth Control so I thought I'd just skim this, but after reading the Introduction, I came to believe this was the more accurate of the two available biographies. In her Introduction, Chesler lists, compares and contrasts all of the biographies written about Sanger, including two autobiographies from the 30s. Although writing for a series called "Woman of Valor" Chesler does not seem bound to paint some idealized picture of Sanger; she is willing to show her subject's strengths and weaknesses. Interestingly, Margaret doesn't always compare favorably, even with her lesser known siblings. However, I believe this biography still falls far short of Margaret Sanger's Eugenic Legacy which I hope to read very soon.

² If I understood her correctly, M.S. envisioned the movement in the hands of idealistic and strong-minded women (such as herself) dedicating their lives to teaching other women how to control their fertility. In the 1950’s when the leadership passed into the hands of men who reorganized and renamed the Birth Control Federation of America, Planned Parenthood Federation of America, Margaret saw this as a failure of nerve, a step backward. In fact it was a savvy political decision based on the times made by those who were actually trying to help her ‘cause’.


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The Shadow of the Bear

Thoroughly delightful, modern retelling of, Snow White and Rose Red, which I am bound to read next. The Shadow of the Bear is set in modern day New York City and "the Bear" wears dreadlocks. The two sisters, Blanche and Rose, recently displaced by their father's death are struggling to fit in at a new (to the girls) inner-city high school.

The best part of the book for me was the beginning because of all of the great quotes and intriguing ideas. It's been far too long since I've read any fairy tales and I'd forgotten the charm their gentle "spells' can weave in reminding us more is going on in Life than work, struggle and overcoming problems.

The author often speaks through her fanciful character, Rose. Here she is speaking to her sister, Blanche and Bear, "Have you ever felt there was something going on in life not everyone was aware of?" Pressed to explain herself, Rose continues, "As though there's a story going on that everyone is a part of, but not everybody knows about? Maybe 'story' isn't the right word--a sort of drama, a battle between what's peripheral and what's really important. As though the people you meet aren't just their plain, prosaic selves, but are actually princes and princesses, gods and goddesses, fairies, shepherds, all sorts of fantastic creatures who've chosen to hide their real shape for some reason or other. Have you ever thought that?" (p. 56)

I'll let you read the book for yourself to see how her audience responded. I know, however, what I think. I think she is on to something.

Although predictable and simplistic, it was good to be reminded by this sweet fairy tale that Good can triumph and there can be happy endings. A definite 'Feel Good' experience. Read and enjoy!

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An Unlikely Missionary

Fans of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice rejoice! You are in for treat. As we all know, there are sequels and there are sequels. And Pride and Prejudice just may be the most popular book for budding authors to attempt to reproduce in sequence. However, getting the follow-on to read true to the original isn't something just anyone can achieve. Skylar Hamilton Burris succeeds brilliantly!

In An Unlikely Missionary, Burris takes a road less traveled, in that she steers clear of the Darcys and Bennets and focuses her attention on the intriguing Charlotte Collins, who comes out of the shadows of being a minor character and into the limelight.*

As the heroine of An Unlikely Missionary, Charlotte, doesn't suffer comparison with other younger, prettier women. We get to know her better because the story unfolds from her perspective and - to this reader at least - I came to like her even more through the closer acquaintance.

An Unlikely Missionary picks up the story with Charlotte married to the insufferable Mr. Collins which our author uses to great advantage for our ironic amusement, revealing her talents in the true Austen-style.

The story moves at a fast pace. From the very first pages poor Charlotte's pragmatic reasons for marrying Collins are whisked out from under her and she find herself nursing him on a boatload of strangers bound for India. Immediately I was reminded of the observation made in the The Jane Austen Book Club that in Austen's novels we never learn what happens after the "...and they lived happily ever after!" because what if they didn't? But here, finally, we get to see - or read - the `rest of the story'.

And yet, there is nothing melancholy about An Unlikely Missionary. It evoked in me the full range of emotions--I smiled, cried, sighed, and laughed out loud, sometimes almost at once. The historical and religious research was impeccable so far as I am able to discern, but it only serves as the backdrop for the novel. It is a romantic comedy and belongs in the same class and genre with the rest of Miss Austen's novels; the romantic parts were . . . ah! sublime! Mostly, I enjoyed envisioning it made into a lavish BBC production.

And I don't care what anyone says, Charlotte is beautiful.

Thoroughly delightful book! Treat yourself!

*If you recall from P&P, Charlotte is described as `a sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven'; given the time period, this description being tantamount to a kiss-of-death, as there is no mention of her beauty, yet she is still single at the advanced (gasp!) age of twenty-seven. Horrors!

*****

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Lenten Reading -- Please Join In

RANN at This, That and The Other Thing is doing a Lenten Reading Meme which I've decided to participate in. Normally I shy away from this sort of thing simply due to time, but I've decided to give this one a try and see how it goes. Nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say. Anyway, it's not too difficult. All you have to do is copy the questions below, paste them in a new post, answer them (obviously), and leave a comment back to me to let me know you want to participate. It's an excellent way to discover good recommendations for Lenten books.

1. What books have you read and/or reviewed in the last year that you would recommend to people looking for Lenten reading? What book/s is/are you reading this Lent?

(If you don't have a blog, leave your answer here in a comment)

2. Include a link back here.

3. Leave a comment here with a link to your post.

4. Encourage your blog friends to participate. Let's see if we can help each other find books for Lent and beyond.

My answers: Books I've reviewed this past year, or the one before, which I would recommend for Lenten reading include first and foremost, Jesus of Nazareth by Pope Benedict XVI. Our book club read that last year and it's awesome. Then I'd have to list two from my list of 'books worth reading over and over...': Abandonment to Divine Providence and The Practice of the Presence of God. Those books can be read every year for the rest of your life; they're quick reads, perfect for Lenten reflection or anytime. Recently I read an incredible book all about trust which profoundly changed my relationship with God; it's called, Pathways of Trust and would make a great Lenten read.

Finally, Benedict's Book Club is reading Death on a Friday Afternoon which I happen to think is the best book of all time for Lent.

God's Choice

by George Weigel

If you are looking for a book which is all biography on Pope Benedict XVI -- as I was -- you won't find it in George Weigel's God's Choice. If on the other hand you've read Weigel's masterly Witness To Hope: The Biography of Pope John Paul II, it's possible to see this book as its conclusion and transition to the new pontiff. At first, I confess I was a tad disappointed--not that I don't love JPII (I do!) but I bought and was reading this book looking for insight into his successor. But as I read and listened to the last debilitating days our Polish Pope spent on this earth in humble suffering, I was gently chastised, and the stage was set for the book's overriding theme, which is, come what may, the Eternal King will have His Way, thanks be to Him. And gradually I came to see the wisdom, ne the necessity of such a beginning. Weigel is seeking to show through God's Choice how indeed -- strange and unexpected though it may have seemed to the world at large -- the selection of the Bavarian Cardinal as Pope was indeed Divine, and to do so he needed to set the stage.

Roughly the book can be divided into thirds.

The first third deals with JPII's last days, his death, funeral and the conclave. Gradually Cardinal Ratzinger is introduced by Weigel and event-by-event, he is shown to be the inevitable, the only, if the somewhat reluctant choice of his church to be their leader-the reluctance being mostly on his side. As a scholarly, quiet, professorial sort of priest, Cardinal Ratzinger tried to retire home to his library in Germany several times during JPII's pontificate and was not allowed to do so.

The middle third of the book provides a brief and rather unsatisfying biography of Pope Benedict. There are some amusing anecdotes, helpful spiritual insights and facts about the man himself. On the whole it is fascinating reading, but it only whets your appetite. My guess is Weigel plans a comprehensive biography of the reigning pontiff sometime down the road to complete the trilogy begun with Witness to Hope and continued here. But the little that I did learn about the man was so enlightening, inspiring and surprising, it left me wanting to know and read him more!

The book concludes with a discussion of managerial, liturgical and inter-religious initiatives PBXVI will probably undertake during his years as pope, some of which have already been proven prophetic.

Below I have included some of my favorite anecdotal selections about Pope Benedict XVI:

In 1974, 'Josef Pieper, the German philosopher who Cardinal Ratzinger had admired during his student days urged him to get in touch with Cardinal Wojtyla who had made such a deep impression on Pieper. Ratzinger and Wojtyla began exchanging books!' ☺ (p. 178) A very propitious beginning to one of the most important friendships of the last century, don't you think?

In the post-WWII years when our current Holy Father was in seminary, he was a great lover of novels especially those by: Dostoevsky, Claudel, Bernanos and Mauriac. In fact, the book says, he "devoured" them"! ☺ (p. 164)

When his Pontificate was announced, 'amid the veritable hurricane of commentary, analysis, celebration, and toy- making*, an intriguing analysis came from what some might regard as an unexpected source: Professor Timothy George, a prominent American evangelical theologian and dean of the interdenominational Beeson Divinity School at Samford University, a Baptist institution in Alabama. Dr. George suggested to his fellow Protestants that Benedict XVI could be the "harbinger of a new reformation" and that, in any event, "his pontificate will be one of great moment for the Christian Church, not least for the evangelicals." Why?' Dr. George gave five reasons: 'because Benedict "takes truth seriously"; because his theology is Bible-focused"; because "his message is Christocentric"; because he is Augustinian in perspective"; and because "he champions the culture of life."' (p. 154) *there was a hand-made toy teddy bear made named Benedict XVI

Our current pope's 'parent's name's were Joseph and Mary (which provoked innumerable jokes in later life), and he was their third child, following his sister, Maria, born in 1921, and his brother, Georg, born in 1924.' (p. 159)

Pope John Paul's selection of Cardinal Ratzinger 'as prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF) disclosed several things about (his) thinking on the state of Catholic theology and its importance in the Church. The first was that John Paul II took theology very seriously indeed. Rather than appointing an experienced Church bureaucrat to head the congregation, John Paul chose a man whom everyone, including his critics, regarded as a scholar of the first rank, one of the finest Catholic theological minds of the 20th century. The appointment also suggested that the Pope, far from wanting to drive theology back into the lecture hall, wanted it to engage the world--but in a distinctively theological way. Thus he chose Ratzinger who had come to embody an updating of the Church based on a return to the sources of Catholic spiritual and intellectual vitality. And in the third place, the appointment underscored John Paul's commitment to a legitimate pluralism of methods in theology. Joseph Ratzinger was the first head of the Vatican's doctrinal office in centuries who did not take Thomas Aquinas as his theological lodestar. Both the Pope and his new prefect respected Thomas and Thomists. They also wanted a wide-ranging theological conversation to shape papal teaching.' (p. 181)

My favorite of all the stories Weigel has told about the Holy Father is this one. It concerns his choice of one of the symbols Pope Benedict chose to include in his episcopal coat of arms when he was 'appointed Archbishop of Munich and Freising: a bear with a pack strapped to its back. The image came from the legend of St. Corbinian, the first bishop of Freising, who, as the legend goes, was on his way to Rome when a bear attack his horse and killed it. Corbinian scolded the bear and made it haul the pack the horse was carrying all the way to Rome. The story reminded Ratzinger of Augustine's reflections on several psalms in which the great patristic theologian speaks of having become a draft animal--a "good sturdy ox to pull God's cart in this world," as Ratzinger puts it. The paradox is that that was how the scholar, Augustine, who might have preferred not to be the bishop charged with pulling God's cart through history, came closer to God. "Just as the draft animal is closest to the farmer, doing his work for him, so is Augustine closest to God precisely through such humble service, completely within God's hand, completely His instrument." That was how Ratzinger understood his own translation from scholar to bishop: "The laden bear that took the place of Saint Corbinian's horse, or rather donkey--the bear that became his donkey against his will. Is this not an image of what I should do and of what I am?" As St. Augustine had put it, "A beast of burden have I become for you, and this is just the way for me to remain wholly yours and always abide with you." And that, in the end, was how Joseph Ratzinger had come to understand himself and his service to John Paul II.' (pp. 204-205)

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Two books

Usually I prefer to finish books before writing about them. Usually. But then these books aren't usual. Jesus of Nazareth is the first book our group, Benedict's Book club is reading. Overachiever that I am, when it comes to reading anyway, I've read ahead to the sixth chapter, even though we're currently discussing Chapter 2. Still Chapter 2 is my favorite of the six . . . so far.

The second book, My Visit to Hell, I’m reading on my own, for ‘fun’. A friend recommended it and quite frankly it didn’t sound too appealing when she suggested it. A novel about hell? I have read Dante’s Divine Comedy, and C. S. Lewis’s The Great Divorce, nevertheless, a fictional account of a journey into the nether world does not fill me with eager anticipation. Let’s be honest, who wants to even think about hell, much less read about it? I read Dante only because it was a ‘classic’ I wanted my daughters to read. I started The Great Divorce without realizing what it was about; I finished it because it was so fascinating. But look for books about fire and brimstone, suffering and misery? No. I am not interested. In fact, the thought quite repulses me.

Why put these two books together? Surely Our Lord, Jesus Christ and a trip to hell don’t belong in the same blog post?

Ah but they do! To paraphrase the Catholic apologist and scriptural exegete, Scott Hahn, "Sweet and gentle Jesus?! You only know half of Him!" The reason Chapter 2 of JoN is my favorite is because it’s about the Temptation of Jesus in the desert. Pope Benedict writes a penetrating exploration of each of the three attempts on the part of the enemy to waylay Our Lord. There are depths of meaning in the Holy Father’s explanations like you have never heard before. Most telling of all, it’s possible for the discerning reader to see how each of these efforts on the part of the enemy is only superficially directed at Jesus; the real target is us! We are really the ones in the desert doing battle with the devil; Jesus is there to show us how to parry the thrust and to assist us, so long as we let Him.

My Visit to Hell is a modern Inferno. It updates Dante’s classic journey into the realms of hell before Judgement Day. The visitor is a young agnostic who doesn’t believe where he is at first; his guide is an 18th century slave woman. As I said, I haven’t finished it yet—but I will. So far we have traveled deeper and deeper into an abyss which grows more hideous by the level. The ‘updating’ of Dante will help those unable to penetrate the Italian poet’s description or relate to unfamiliar people, places and events contained in Dante's long-forgotten world. Professor Thigpen’s terms and descriptions, on the contrary, will be all too familiar; indeed you will find yourself wishing they were less so.

Sometimes two very different texts can – and should – be read in conjunction. Although I recommend these books, I don't presume to assign ratings to either. But someone much higher, greater and mightier than I will determine how our lives reflect the teachings contained therein and I tremble at His judgments.

Blessings on the Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul!

‘And I say to thee, That Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.’ Matthew 18:16

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The Practice of the Presence of God (RR)

by Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection

Started and Finished: 15 November 2007

"How can you read stuff like this?" asked my youngest daughter as she handed me the copy of Practice she'd found for me. I didn't reply. Nor did I bother reminding her she'd only just finished her own epic two year sojourn with the New Revised Standard Version of the Holy Bible. I knew she was only teasing me.

The Practice of the Presence of God is a book you have to be open to. Without the requisite receptivity, its pearls of wisdom would be wasted. But with the right frame of mind and heart, it is the perfect book.

Perfect in that while it can be read in one hour; mastery of its central concept requires a lifetime. Well, at least for this soul. And a very long lifetime at that. And I write that without the least trace of humility, remorse or even chagrin--as a simple statement of fact. Indeed, growth in virtue does require total commitment and extended preparation time.

Our humble author, Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, assures us that his own journey along this path toward 'practicing the presence of God' took him many years as well. So, despair should not deter one's efforts.

I like that the word 'practice' is used in the title, and indeed throughout the book, because it recognizes the fallibility in human nature. We will have to creep, crawl, stumble and fall many times in this effort before we will ever be able to actually walk in God's presence. That is Brother Lawrence's goal -- and presumably the goal of any self-professed Christian: to actually walk hand-in-hand with Our LORD. In the meantime, He carries us.

Brother Lawrence and his solitary legacy bear much in common with Father De Caussade and his work, discussed in an earlier post.

Both men were post-Reformation, French religious, from rather obscure backgrounds, who left us one primary work of spiritual insight comprised of meditations and letters collected postmortem. Few hard facts can be substantiated about either man -- even such basic information as definitive dates of birth and death, although we do know approximate dates. Both were extremely humble men who -- given their own preference -- would have lived quiet lives far away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of society; but they were not given that chance. God had need of their services and so He called these two holy men out from their peaceful solitude to minister to their neighbors.

Brother Lawrence lived and worked most of his life at the monastery of the Discalced Carmelites on the rue de Vaugirard in Paris, where he spent many years working in the kitchen. He died in 1691 at around 80 years of age. A year later his Abbot collected what could be found from Brother Lawrence's letters, spiritual writings and recorded conversations, put them together and this comprises what we know today as The Practice of the Presence of God.

Unfortunately, upon publication, Practice became associated with the controversy of the day, the heresy then causing so much bitter debate, Quietism. Although it is beyond the scope of this article and the abilities of this writer to discuss the theological aspects of Quietism, it is important to understand that one tenet of this heresy bore a similarity to Brother Lawrence's principle theses, complete abandonment to the will of God, and therefore was used by advocates of the Quietist heresy to justify their position. As it would be some years before this struggle could be resolved, especially in France, Practice suffered the taint of guilt by association -- albeit a slim association at best -- and fell into disfavor in the country of its birth. Fortunately for us, our book was picked up by other Christian denominations and carried to other countries where it has spread around the world. Since its initial printing, Practice has been always been available in one form or another and now can even be found in many versions on-line.

The first section of the book consists of four dated conversations where Brother Lawrence describes what it is that led him to the realization that pursuing the 'Practice of the Presence of God' was the best way, indeed the only way, to follow Christ. These are not conversations as most Americans today would categorize conversations, but more like a Shakespearean soliloquy, with the little monk giving his thoughts on how he came to know that putting God first, last, and always, was the only way to live. And really that is Practice in a nutshell. I could stop writing here and you would have the book. Except that as simple as it is write -- or say -- such words, anyone who has really tried to live them knows, it is not that easy.

In the next section of the book, we are given sixteen of Brother Lawrence's letters--mostly written to a nun, but also one to a priest and several to a lay woman. All of these further elucidate how one is to advance along the path toward our ultimate goal, full and total communion with God. The book concludes with a group of Brother Lawrence's maxims.

What Brother Lawrence teaches through Practice is that no matter where we are, or what we are doing, we can and should be in God's presence at all times. But how to achieve this state, you may well ask? Although he answers this question in many different ways throughout the book, probably the most clear-cut answer lies here:

"Having found different methods of going to God and different practices to attain the spiritual life in several books, I decided that they would serve more to hinder than to facilitate me in what I was seeking--which was nothing other than a means to be wholly God's. This made me decide to give all to gain all; so after having given all to God in satisfaction for my sins, I began to live as if there were no one in the world but Him and me." (p73)

On the surface, such an approach sounds very simplistic, or even selfish. However, the same day I read those words of Brother Lawrence, I read almost the exact same idea expressed by another Carmelite from 200 years earlier. In describing the transforming union that a soul undergoes when it finally achieves oneness with God, St. John of the Cross writes, "And here lies the remarkable delight of this awakening: the soul knows creatures through God and not God through creatures." (p189, Fire Within, Thomas Dubay, S.M.)

Indeed the life of Brother Lawrence is testimony to his writings; his single-minded concern for God, far from leading him away from love of people, brought him closer to them. Only through a greater love of God, can we ever hope for a fuller love of all of His creation.

My first recorded acquaintance with Practice was May of 2004--at least according to the little bookmark card maintained inside the front cover of my ragged paperback copy. Recently I read and listened to the book again. I wish I could say that reading Practice was enough, or even writing about it. But they aren't. It takes much more than that. Nevertheless, I shall continue to do both, because I see great wisdom in this little book and at least reading it keeps the idea foremost in my mind.

'I must know, love and serve God in this world that I may gain the happiness of heaven.' (Baltimore Catechism)

But even more than that, to be happy in this life, Brother Lawrence tells us is only possible with God as our one and only purpose, end and goal.

*****



"That all things are possible to him who believes, more so to him who hopes [still more to him who loves], and most of all to him who perseveres in the practice of these three virtues. That the end we ought to propose for ourselves in this life is to become the most perfect adorers of God we possibly can, as we hope to be His perfect adorers through all eternity."

~~Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection from "The Practice of the Presence of God"

Vanity Fair, Part 1

by William Makepeace Thackeray

"Ah! Vanitas Vanitatum! Which of us is happy in this world? Which of us has his desire? or, having it, is satisfied?" —Vanity Fair

If I were a little more eloquent I could have written those words myself today. I have a lovely day and no pressing business. I was all set to listen to my Librivox downloads of Vanity Fair while I ironed, did some mending, and just generally enjoyed a slow day of light work, when I discovered that I was up to Chapter 39 of the 40 chapters I had on hand. Time to get the rest from Librivox. No such luck. Their website seems to be down. And so it goes...the best laid plans of mice and men. Oops! Wrong book!

Time for Plan B. Hmmmm...looking at it again, the quote doesn't quite fit after all. Well, it's still a cool quote. So, instead of listening to more of the story--which by now I'm well into--I shall write about the novel instead. Come to think of it, it's probably very fortuitous, as Vanity Fair is a tremendous book and I was beginning to wonder how I was ever going to get any words around it. Two -- nay ten -- blog posts won't begin to do it justice. But as I must begin somewhere, the title is as good a place as anywhere.

The term "vanity fair" originates from the allegorical story, The Pilgrim's Progress, published in 1678 by John Bunyan, where there is a town fair held in a village called Vanity. And, it is believed that Bunyan's source for his fictional town's name comes from the book of Ecclesiastes and the opening statement, 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.'

Thackeray has written a satire and let's be honest, satire's are not easy to write because they lack universal appeal. You walk on a knife's edge of humor--sharp, narrow and treacherous. While satire is usually meant to be funny, its real purpose is instruction. The author wants to hold up a mirror to an individual, group, or event and show--by means of irony, derision, ridicule or simply the unfolding of circumstances--heretofore hidden or unacknowledged vices, follies, abuses or shortcomings.

In Vanity Fair, Thackeray is satirizing all of humanity, from the highest to the lowest. Whereas Dickens usually targeted the wealthy and/or those in power, our author does not share the Dickensian' illusion that the poor are without vice. He is a believer in original sin--all of mankind is born capable of evil; though underclasses may have less opportunity for vice, when occasion coincides with motive, poverty is no guarantee of virtue.

Hence the subtitle of the book, A Novel Without a Hero. Thackeray's characters for this reason are less easily typecast than many other fictional characters of the time period. There is no hero, nor heroine. Perhaps that is also why I find his characters more real, more believable than those of his literary contemporaries, who usually had clearly defined heroes and villains.

As to the main characters, however, an interesting discussion developed on the Yahoo British Classics Book Group last month when we read this book. (Yes, yours truly is behind everyone else. The rest of the group has moved on to Agnes Grey and I'm still pluggin' away at September's read.) Many of the ladies in our group saw a strong similarity between the novel's female antagonist, Becky Sharp, and Gone With the Wind's Scarlett O'Hara. Likewise, there were recognizable likenesses between Vanity Fair's female protagonist, Amelia Sedley, and Melanie Wilkes from GWtW.

Becky Sharp is by far the most interesting and memorable of our novel's characters and in that sense I concur with her being compared with the indomitable Scarlett. She is feisty, selfish, manipulative, cunning and always (at least so far) manages to get her own way. I realize this rampage of ruin which she is wreaking on everyone can't last forever, but so far, she seems unbeatable. Amelia, on the other hand, is mousy, insipid, sweet to the point of being nauseating and consequently gets used by people and circumstances. In that sense I do not agree that she is like Melanie Wilkes who was supposed to be and in fact seemed to be, a genuinely good person, meek, in the Gospel sense of the word, but certainly not stupid.

What I found most interesting in our group discussion was how all the ladies saw themselves in either Becky or Amelia. And whichever they considered themselves in their early years, they were striving to be more like her opposite as they aged, i.e., an outgoing opportunist as a girl, wanted to become more reserved as a woman and the consummate wallflower of youth, longed to blossom into a forceful woman to reckon with in her later years. I wonder if that would be true if a larger sample of women were to read and discuss this book. In any event, just because our author is male, doesn't mean he doesn't understand the female psyche; indeed, he captures our ability to wound each other perfectly as well as the deeply regrettable inability of some to ever forgive and forget.

'But those who know a really good woman are aware she is not in a hurry to forgive, and the humiliation of an enemy is triumph to her soul.' (p441) How sad! And yet the women have no monopoly on this human sinkhole of fear--the real opposite of love. The father of one of the young men in our story also severs ties with his only son for the usual reason parents of the day cut their offspring, because they fail to make the expected and presumed 'correct' matrimonial alliance. Thackeray must have known from personal experience the pain and waste associated with such loss, especially when death forever makes reconciliation an impossibility. Even then this hard-hearted old man refuses to see the error of his way, thus inuring and perpetuating vengeance onto the next generation, his own grandson. But the book isn't over yet, so I may be getting ahead of myself. As the saying goes, 'Where there is life, there is hope.'

But if Vanity Fair were only full of the dark and the bleak in the tide of human affections, it would not be ranked in the top one hundred books ever written in many lists still today. What is it that we love about it? Certainly it is full of wry humor, witty dialogue and clever escapades. It is set at the time of the Napoleonic Wars, primarily in Great Britain, but moves to the continent for the infamous Battle of Waterloo and then returns to England again. So it provides a contextual backdrop for the satirical commentary as well as giving us rich insight into a fascinating time in history, with all its associated mannerisms, customs and idiosyncrasies.

I cannot speak for the critics but one of the things I love about these old books are the words--words which have gone out-of-fashion. Those delicious words which are so expressive and can insult -- or praise -- with such finesse and panache. It seems such a pity that the average American vocabulary is dwindling every day. Some of my favorites from this book include: odious, hobbledehoy, discomfited, peccadilloes, mésallianiance, pluck, cordiality and dandle, to name but a few. What treasures we are denying ourselves when we drop these from our correspondence and conversation. Yesterday I worked on using the first and my favorite, 'odious' as often as I could. What fun and so much better than resorting to smaller and less descriptive adjectives.

Ah! I just checked and Librivox is back up, so I'm off to download more chapters. Part 2 shall have to wait! (to be continued...)

Awakening Anna

WARNING: If you have not read The Awakening or Anna Karenina, contains SPOILER information!

The Awakening by Kate Chopin
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

Normally I try not to include anything which will spoil a story, but in this case, I am not writing a Book Review, but a comparison between the two books listed above, which by necessity includes information pertaining to the conclusion of both!

In May, when my oldest daughter was approaching midpoint in her American Literature course she asked me if I'd read anything by Kate Chopin. Liking to consider myself well-read, it always irks me when I have to admit to complete ignorance of a famous author, especially one from my own shores. I secretly resolved to remedy the situation as soon as possible; then I got busy doing other things and forgot all about Ms. Chopin. But I'd happened to mention my literary shortfall to my best friend and she did NOT forget; she got busy reading The Awakening.

Several days later and she was almost finished. Egad! I grabbed my Library of America edition and dived in too.

Louisiana and the bayou country--familiar territory; my husband and I moved there childless in '91 and left three years later with our two daughters, many fond memories and an abiding appreciation of the sultry south. We literally had two Steel Magnolias, who could claim they'd been born, if not 'early on one frosty morn' at least from 'the Land of Cotton, where old times there are not forgotten...' The mellowness of the South had seeped into our bones; it's softer voice, slower ways and sweeter folk were a part of us now.

And of course when a book can take you back to a special place...well, that's almost as good as goin' there. I have a special fondness for armchair travel. Opening The Awakening was to bring back those warm, rosy memories of exploring old plantation homes and restin' in the shade of huge moss-draped trees.

'Domestic Goddess Kate Chopin was born Katherine O'Flaherty, in St. Louis, Missouri. Her parents were from Irish and Creole backgrounds. When Chopin was widowed at 32, she began writing to support herself and her six children. She was widely accepted as a writer of local color fiction, and was generally successful until the publication of her scandalous novel The Awakening, in 1899. Perched between the social conservatism of the nineteenth century and dealing with tabooed themes too soon for the growingly open twentieth, the novel's sexually aware and shocking protagonist, Edna Pontillier, pushed Chopin into literary oblivion. Chopin, and her memorable characters and stories, finally emerged from society's morally imposed ostracization during the resurgence of women's rights in the early 1970's.

Even today, much of the criticism of Chopin's most famous work centers on Edna Pontillier's morals--is she a fallen woman, a bad mother, a selfish human being? Why does the character still, in an era where sexual openness is not totally condemned, point us toward a discussion of what makes a woman "bad?" What does the novel say about constrictions and constructions of the feminine role, today and during the time it was written? What does the novel say about human consciousness, and conscience?

Marilynne Robinson, in the introduction to the Bantam edition of The Awakening, published in 1989, says:

In discovering herself Edna is discovering her fate. In exploring Edna's regression, as she puts aside adult life, retracing her experience to its beginnings, for her its essence, Chopin describes as well a journey inward, evoking all the prodigal richness of longing, fantasy, and memory. The novel is not a simulated case study, but an exploration of the solitary soul still enchanted by the primal, charged, and intimate encounter of naked sensation with the astonishing world. (xx)

Only when we discuss Chopin as more than a "one-trick pony" can we discover more about ourselves.

Recently, Emily Toth, one of the foremost Chopin scholars, published a critical biography of Chopin, which I recommend highly for anyone who is interested in Chopin's work called Unveiling Kate Chopin. To quote Toth, Kate Chopin anticipated so much: daytime dramas, women's pictures, The Feminine Mystique, open marriages, women's liberation, talk shows, Mars vs. Venus, self-help and consciousness raising. But in 1899 she was a lonely pioneer. (xix)' http://www.womenwriters.net/domesticgoddess/chopin1.htm

When I started The Awakening I suspected from the title that it was to be about a woman from those long ago days of the late 1800s who 'awakened' to the realization that she was a person--in addition to being a wife and a mother. But in actuality, the main character, Edna, does more than just awaken to her personhood (whatever that may be) she falls in love with a man (Robert) other than her husband, begins to neglect her family, moves out of her own home, has an affair, laments her affair because of Robert (not because of her husband!) and eventually commits suicide. In other words, we watch Edna in a long, slow spiral downwards into ruin. Is this 'awakening'? Not in my mind!

As I was reading this novel -- and especially at its conclusion -- I was struck by its similarity to Anna Karenina. Although written nearly 20 years earlier (in serial installments from 1873 to 1877) and by the male novelist, Tolstoy, Anna deals with many of the same issues as Awakening: a married woman defying the societal conventions of her place and time, following her own desires and suffering the disastrous consequences of her own choices. Both stories end with the female protagonist ending her own life--presumably because she can see no alternative.

My friend and I both felt Awakening just ended; we weren't prepared for Edna's abrupt and wasteful act. Was there really no other alternative? Was Edna really so desperate as all that? Did Kate Chopin want to make a statement about lack of choices open to women at the end of the 19th century? Or was she frustrated about her own limited options? What was the point of the story?

So many questions; so few answers. While we are left to wonder and speculate about Edna, we can be fairly certain the character of Anna was inspired, in part, by Maria Hartung (1832–1919), the elder daughter of the Russian poet Alexander Pushkin. Soon after meeting her at a dinner, Tolstoy started reading Pushkin's prose and supposedly began to daydream about his beloved heroine. Tolstoy's love of his titular feminine goddess radiates throughout Anna Karenina. Perhaps this goes a long way to explaining why generation after generation of readers have taken her to their hearts as well. Who cannot love an author's most cherished creation?

Does this explain why Edna leaves us cold, but Anna makes us cry? Are we subtly influenced by the author's opinions? Or could it be we find Edna's behavior goes just a bit too far? Somehow she crosses over an invisible line we are not even aware of...a line that Anna manages to remain on the right side of. And if so, what is that line?

Interesting questions these two books raise. They wisely don't offer answers. Our own awakening begins when we close the books, set them down and begin to ponder what we have read.