Happy Hallowe'en from the Hudsons

Denominational Differences: A Lesson from the Great Pumpkin...and the Book of Romans

Tomorrow is Hallowe'en, which means it's time for the first of my favorite holiday specials: It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. I know it might be a little bit passe these days, but I am a die-hard Schultz fan, and I look forward to the Charlie Brown television specials every year. This year, I was fortunate enough to find the specials on sale at COSTCO in DVD format, which means I don't have to perform my yearly ritual of scouring the internet for showtimes. (We don't get a TV guide, and we don't watch television, so I never see the commercials announcing when the shows will air. I think ABC counts on people having one of these two resources at their disposal, because it is maddeningly difficult to find the showtimes on line. But, I digress.)

In It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown discovers his friend Linus van Pelt writing a letter to the Great Pumpkin, a sort of Hallowe'en Santa Claus figure who, Linus insists, flies through the sky on Hallowe'en night, delivering presents to all the children. Charlie Brown, naturally, is not a believer in the Great Pumpkin.

"When are you going to stop believing in something that isn't true?" he badgers Linus.

"When you stop believing in that fat guy in a red suit and the white beard who goes, 'Ho! Ho! Ho!'" Linus retorts.

Charlie Brown, realizing the argument is a draw, sighs, "Obviously, we are separated by denominational differences."

This is the core message of both It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and its slightly more popular counterpart, also masterminded by Schultz and Melendez, A Charlie Brown Christmas. In response to many orthodox and fundamentalist Christian sects' increasingly vocal disapproval of children's participation in the more secular traditions of Hallowe'en and Christmas--or even their celebration at all!--Schultz and Melendez used the popular Peanuts characters to offer a middle ground and a humorous way to examine exactly what is so bad--or not--about these holidays and the way they are celebrated in American culture.

Let's move our discussion, for a moment, to St. Paul's letter to the Romans:

Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. One man's faith allows him to eat everything, but another man, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not, and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does, for God has accepted him...

One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. He who regards one day as special, does so to the Lord. He who eats meat, eats to the Lord, for he gives thanks to God; and he who abstains, does so to the Lord and gives thanks to God. (Romans 14:13, 5-6)

Here, St. Paul is speaking of "disputable matters." This naturally implies the existence of "indisputable matters," those points of Christian doctrine that are essential to the faith, which are not open for discussion or personal discernment. However, as the Church splinters farther and farther from its roots with the ever-increasing number of denominational niches, just what these indisputable matters might be becomes a very foggy notion, indeed.

In fact, we are beginning to see in our day a unique phenomenon--Christians who don't believe in Christ! These self-professed Christians claim to be followers of a wise and wonderful man named Jesus of Nazareth, but they do not believe He is the Christ, the Messiah, nor that He is the Son of God. Not long ago, this would have been the central indisputable matter. Those who did not hold with it were labelled heretics, or at least as "unbelievers." Yet, today even this is indisputable matter is up for debate in some Christian circles.

When we don't have our central doctrines clearly defined, we run the risk of mistaking disputable matters for indisputable ones and vice versa. We also tend to form camps, largely culturally defined, which say that those who hold to certain beliefs will act upon those beliefs in a specific way.

Let us take the example of sorcery. Scripture and the Church tell us that the practice of sorcery is forbidden, that it is a sin. This is indisputable, but there are many disputable issues that stand in relation to the sin of sorcery: fantasy books, Star Wars, parlor tricks, illusionists, the daily horoscope in the newspaper, jack o' lanterns. Now, your stance on any of these disputable matters does not necessarily mean you truck with sorcery, that you are yourself a sorcerer, or that you support sorcery or deny it as sinful.

For example, you might jokingly read the horoscope in the newspaper for a good laugh with your friends, but that doesn't mean you put stock in it or that you are trying to displace God's sovereignty with a cheap substitute. You might carve jack o' lanterns on Hallowe'en because it is fun and spooky, but that doesn't mean you are planning to take yours to a coven for the evening. You might enjoy, as I do, reading fantasy books like Harry Potter or Twilight, but that doesn't mean that you would actually like to start casting spells or be bitten by a handsome vampire. If you do, maybe you should reconsider your choice of reading material. Fantasy, people; the key word is fantasy.
What does this have to do with the Great Pumpkin? Denominational differences. While Linus and Charlie Brown can come to a peaceful stalemate over their differences, all too often, we Christians take quite a different tack. We mudsling each other on blogs and in online chatrooms. We declaim each other from the pulpit, declaring one person "wicked," one "fallen," one "apostate." We point fingers, we criticize, we ridicule, and we judge, judge, judge. All because we fail to heed the words of St. Paul.

Of course, it's tricky. We're not dealing with humorous, fantastical beings like Santa Claus or the Great Pumpkin. We're fighting over issues of doctrine, some that we may hold very dear. I think, though, that we wouldn't get so caught up in these fights if we were more confident about the indisputable matters. If we knew which issues were worth taking a stand on, we wouldn't sweat the small stuff. If we were firm in principle, we wouldn't be so concerned with practices that might look different from ours.

If I can say, "The issue is modesty," then I don't need to point fingers at a sister in a tanktop or a brother on the beach in speedo. I can calmly say to myself, "Perhaps, to them, this is modest...and fashionable." And, I get over it and move on. Because nowhere in Scripture does it say, "Thou shalt not wear spaghetti straps nor shalt thou wear speedos." (I don't know. There might be a line about speedos somewhere in Leviticus...) If I can say, "The issue is the practice of sorcery," then I don't have to get bent out of shape over jack o' lanterns and ghost stories and Harry Potter. I can just give the benefit of the doubt and say, "Obviously, we are separated by denominational differences."

Seriously, these things are not worth the battle so many make them out to be. There are indisputable matters of faith that are being challenged, undermined, and denied even from within the Church. There are battles to fight, but we have to know how to pick them. It's really not worth the trouble to get all worked up over whether its a sin to give a bite-sized Snickers' bar to a little girl dressed as a fairy princess on Saturday night.

Let's give each other the benefit of the doubt. Let's trust the power of the Holy Spirit working in the lives of all the baptized. Let's be fully convinced in our own minds, and trust others to do the same. And, let's stop sweating the small stuff. In the oxymoronic words of Charlie Brown, "Good grief!"

Putting the Hallow Back in Hallowe'en

Sophia choosing her pumpkin, October 2008.

The air is getting chilly. The leaves are beginning to turn. Pumpkins and Indian corn are cropping up at all the local farms. And Christians across America are beginning to grow uneasy as Hallowe’en approaches. The day of the Great Pumpkin has become an occasion for the Great Debate about whether or not to celebrate this increasingly secularized—and increasingly macabre—holiday. Sometimes though, in the “to dress as a witch or not to dress as a witch” debate, we lose sight of the fact that whether or not we celebrate Hallowe’en in a secular or pseudo-secular manner, we Christians are meant to celebrate it together as a holy vigil!

Sadly, many Christians have no idea how to celebrate Hallowe’en as Christians. As is the case with many religious holidays, the traditional celebration of Hallowe’en has been usurped by commercialization and secular custom. Because of this confusion, some join wholeheartedly in the secular celebration, while others shun the day entirely, locking their doors and switching off their porch lights in protest. But, I believe that, as with so many things, there is a moderate approach. Not only is there a way to celebrate Hallowe’en that is line with the teaching of the Church, Hallowe’en can actually be a marvelous tool for evangelism!

Read the rest here at Phases of Womanhood.

Without Love

My husband and I watched Sean Penn's brilliantly provactive and heartbreaking film Into the Wild a few weeks ago. I have been thinking about it periodically ever since. (Incidentally, I highly recommend it, but be prepared to be deeply touched.)

One scene that I keep turning over in my head is when the protagonist, Chris, meets a woman named Jan for the first time. He is complaining to her about the hypocrisy and other shortcomings of his parents. Jan, a mother of a teenage son herself, challenges him, "Come on. You look like a loved kid. Be fair."

In response, Chris paraphrases Henry David Thoreau: "Rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness… give me truth."

There was a time in my life, when I was about the age Chris is in this scene, when I would have cheered him on. There was nothing in the world more important to me than Truth--that elusive enlightenment that I oscillated between thinking I alone knew and fearing would evade me forever.

I still search for Truth. Everyday. I believe in Truth. I believe that, in addition to our personal truths that exist in varying shades of gray (such as "my story" of how something happened, which inevitably will be told differently by every witness to the event), there are absolute truths. These are the underlying truths of the universe and our existence. I may think I know some of them; I may resign myself to the fact that others will remain shrouded in mystery for me in this life. I may find, one day, that I misinterpretted some of them. I may find that I got them all wrong, but I will spend my life seeking them.

Nonetheless, I have come to believe that Truth cannot be the ultimate end of my life, the pinnacle of my quest on this earth. For one thing, I don't think I will ever grasp all Truth. I don't think I'm meant to. But, apart from this, I also have found that Truth when sought alone above all other things can be cold, and the seeker of Truth can be cruel.

To paraphrase 1 Corinthians 13 (and Henry David Thoreau): Rather than tongues, than prophecy, than knowledge, than faith, than sacrifice...than truth, give me love.

Yes, we may have talents and gifts without love. We may have knowledge and faith. We may sacrifice, and we may find truth, but without love, all these things are meaningless. Without love, we are, as St. Paul says, nothing. To have love does not negate the need to seek truth, but truth without love is, ultimately, meaningless.

Christopher McCandless realized this by the end of his journey into the wild. I learned it, myself, after an adventure and a wilderness of sorts. It is one of those truths that I do not think we can know utterly by instinct. We have to learn it through experience in order to truly embrace it as our own truth. Yet, it was always true and remains true, an absolute truth if you will. If only we all didn't have to go into the wild to learn it. But, then, perhaps we all need to.

Lessons From the Closet: Making Room for Charity

"When we inventory our closets we may discover clothes that, to paraphrase the Catholic social activist Dorothy Day, should be not in our closets but on someone else's back. A trip to the local secondhand clothing store may be in order as we pass these clothes on to someone who needs them."

- Margaret Kim Peterson, Keeping House: The Litany of Everday Life

My family lives in 1275 sq. ft. third-story condo. No garage. No attic. No basement. Very little closet space. And, one of our closets is completely taken up with our washer and dryer!

In the three years that we have lived in this cozy, much-loved home, we have learned to get very creative with the space. My husband's bicycle, for example, hangs on a special hook in our front entry way against the wall, just inside the door. Baskets and boxes are important fixtures in our house. Not only do they keep things organized, they limit what we can have to the size of the container. We have a box for holiday decorations; we only own as many things as can fit in the box. If we have too many, we have to give something away. Same thing with my children's toys. Different baskets are for different things: art supplies, stuffed animals, infant/baby toys. When the basket gets over-full, it's time to pare down and donate.

I have found this sort of creativity to be an exhilarating challenge in ingenuity. I love trying to find ways to make our smaller home work for our family and the guests we welcome there. I have also found it challenging in a spiritual sense, as I have to continually question whether or not we need something--because buying something new generally means giving something we already own away; there's just no room for superfluity in our house.

I have a confession, though. There is one area in which I have not particularly appreciated the simplifying, streamlined approach to storage and possessions. In my closet: Clothes.

Until I was fifteen, I owned very few clothes, and I had absolutely no interest in buying any. I went to Catholic schools where I wore uniforms. I had two skirts, two short sleeved shirts, two long-sleeved shirts, one cardigan, a half dozen pairs of tights and knee socks, and one pair of shoes, plus a gym uniform, consisting of one t-shirt, one pair of shorts, a pair of sneakers, and a pair of gym socks. This limited wardrobe was the extent of my fashion statement for a decade.

Enter public school. Suddenly, I needed clothes! My mother and I went shopping, and I got some things that I hoped would not make me seem like a total dweeb at my new school. But, I had no idea about what was fashionable or how to assemble an outfit! To put it blunty: I had no taste.

It took me a long time to figure out what "my" style was, what clothes looked good on my body. I wasn't used to having to make these decisions, and as I made them--and made mistakes--my wardrobe grew and grew. Additionally, I did not grow. I have been approximately the same size (except during pregnancy) since the sixth grade. So, I never got rid of any of my clothes. Christmases and birthdays usually meant more clothing that I very gratefully received from relatives and friends. And, of course, what is a young woman who has the rent and necessities covered by her parents supposed to spend her money on but make-up and clothing? Okay, was it just me?

As my wardrobe began to become more refined to suit my newfound taste--yes, eventually I got some--it became quite a prized possession. I was one of the only college students I knew who carefully put away each item of clothing each night, either folded neatly in my drawers, hung in my closet, or set in the hamper to be laundered with care on Monday morning. I still take very good care of my clothes, even with two young kids--one who loves to spit up on whatever I'm wearing five minutes after I put an outfit together! If it were up to me, I would never get rid of a single article of clothing. I admit it; it's pretty much the only thing I hoard. Which tells me something important: I care far too much about clothes.

Fortunately, I find myself in this tiny house with limited closet space. Each spring and fall, I weed through the closets and determine what we need to set aside--my maternity clothes or favorites among the kids' outfits for the next (God willing) baby--and which we need to give away. It's pretty easy to bring a shirt or two or a pair of shorts to my husand and say, "You didn't wear these at all this year; is it okay if I take them down to Goodwill?" He'll nod, and into the donation bag they go. But, when I come to my half of the closet, I find this sweater or that skirt that I haven't worn in a couple of years...a pair of jeans that doesn't even really fit anymore with my post-baby hips...a pair of shoes that don't match anything I own. I know that they should all end up with my husband's shorts in the donations bag. Yet, I can't seem to part with them.

Oh, maybe my pelvis will actually go back to its former state, and I'll be able to squeeze into those jeans again. Or, I just might find a use for that sweater or those shoes; I know as soon as I toss them, I'm going to wish I had them. And, so I set them aside in a storage box under my bed, or leave them hanging in my closet, my side of which is much more cramped and full than my husband's.

This year, as I anticipate receiving more clothing for Christmas presents, as the Holy Spirit works in my heart, as the economy makes it harder and harder for people to make ends meet let alone supply themselves with luxuries like new clothing, the words of the above quote really go to my heart. I open my closet, and it's like I hear God telling me, "Stop holding on so hard. Remember that all these things are gifts from Me; you're just a steward. Clothe my children, not your hangers." I sense a trip to the thrift store in my future, and by making room in my closet, I find my heart making room for charity.

Who knew a 1275-sq. ft. condo would teach me so much?--about gratitude, and self-denial, and love. Thank you God, for the blessing of limits!

The Great Hallowe'en Debate

"Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater" by Jessie Wilcox Smith

“[T]here has always been a strain within the Church that seems to believe that the imagination itself is pagan.”

– Christopher Hill, Holidays and Holy Nights

I, for one, am not of that strain, and never does that seem more apparent to me than when Hallowe'en draws nigh. For those of you who, like me, appreciate the wonder and "scope for imagination" that this ancient holiday evokes, I offer a three-part series on Hallowe'en from the Cider Mill archives. For those who wouldn't go near Hallowe'en with a twelve-foot pole, feel free to skip this series.

Trick-or-Treat?, Part I

Trick-or-Treat, Part II

Trick-or-Treat, Part III

Just a note: I've done some editing on the series this year, so hopefully it will be edifying even for those of you who have read it before.

I'm also hoping to get a post up on the importance of understanding Hallowe'en to be--and celebrating Hallowe'en as--All Saints' Eve. Sometimes in the "to dress as a witch or not to dress as a witch" debate, we completely forget that whether or not we celebrate Hallowe'en in a secular or pseudo-secular manner, we Christian are meant to celebrate it together as a holy vigil!

Blessings to you all as you consider the implications of this controversial holiday afresh.

* The Bookworm's Library has been updated: Keeping House: The Litany of Everyday Life by Margaret Kim Peterson

Learning to Say,"No"...and "Yes"

Just to forewarn you, this post is about neither drugs nor tacos. I just thought this sign was hilarious. In addition, it makes a point that I do want to talk about. Namely, that saying no to things we should say no to often makes it possible to say yes to good things...like tacos.

My week off from this blog taught me a lot of things, but this was, perhaps the greatest lesson I learned. Or, at least the one I most needed to hear right now. Saying, "No" can be a good thing. And, not just in the case of saying no to bad things, like drugs. It is only by saying, "No" to some things that we can say yes to other things. If we say, "Yes" to something--even something good--more than we should, if we take our "Yes" to excess, then we are inadvertently saying, "No" to many other things--sometimes even better things.

Let's consider tacos, for a moment. If tacos were my favorite food, I might be tempted to make them every night for dinner. (Incidentally, tacos are not my favorite food, but they are tasty.) If I eat tacos every night, I am saying, "No" to a vast array of diverse culinary delights--unless, of course, I plan on making several dinners and stuffing myself stupid. But, even if I make myself sick after a five-course dinner of tacos, lobster, chicken and dumplings, filet mignon, and shepherd's pie, I'm still going to have to draw the line somewhere. When dessert rolls around, I simply will not have any room left for chocolate cake, and I will have to say, "No."

So, I must ask myself, "How much do I really love tacos? Do I want to say, 'Yes' to tacos to the exclusion of everything else? Mightn't it be better to say, 'Yes' to tacos sometimes, say once a week, and to say, 'No' to tacos on the other six days so that I can enjoy a wider variety of foods? Certainly, it will be healthier for me, and it's bound to be more enjoyable in the long run, too."

But, as I said, this post is not about tacos. It's about my experience with shutting off from my blog for a week. My blog, however, can be compared to tacos. It feeds me, rather like tacos. It helps me grown, though thankfully not in quite the same way as tacos. I can share it with friends and even meet new friends over it, like a gathering featuring tacos. And, it just plain fun and enjoyable. Like eating tacos. All that said, you can still have too much of a good thing.

So, here are some guidelines I formed for myself in the last week. I know that internet use (abuse?) can be a huge stumbling block for many people in our culture, so I offer my own personal discoveries in the hopes that they will benefit others. Of course, they are still merely personal; my guidelines are unlikely to work for everyone, but feel free to sift through and chew on the ones that might work for you.

Fast. Often, I have found that fasting is the only way to thoroughly convince me that I am overusing something or taking it for granted. I look around me and see people who are on the internet far more often, who browse more sites a day than I do in a month, and I say to myself, "I'm not that bad." That's not the point. The point is, am I wisely using the resources that I have? Am I being a good steward of my time, my energy, my intellect, my family and other relationship, and yes, my internet connection? Frankly, I'm not likely to be able to give myself a thoroughly honest and knowledgeable answer without fasting.

If you think you current computer habits might be getting in the way of some more important "Yes"es in your life, even if you're "not that bad," consider an internet fast. Turn off the computer. Step away from the computer. Don't turn the computer back on. Go do something more important. That's it. Then, come back when your fast is done, and evaluate. I promise you'll gain something from the experience, and the internet will still be there when you get back.

Divide and conquer. So, my fast wasn't entirely from the internet, it was just from my blog. That said, I was using my email on a daily basis (thought a diminished basis) even during my blog break. Unfortunately, that meant I was still getting email about the blog, even though I was not on the blog, because I had my comment moderation linked through my personal email; this email address was also my contact email from The Apple Cider Mill.

But, no more! I realized that this way of doing things was destructive and inefficient. If I wanted to pop online and check to see if my mother had responded to an email or if my husband was online to chat and some Cider Mill mail showed up, I just couldn't keep from clicking on it, even though I knew that I was on a blog break. (Hence the reason that comments were still getting approved and posted during the first few days of my break.) So, I set up a second email account, which is now the holding pen for all comments and blog-related emails. I can go to it when I want, and I can still communicate with friends and family via my personal email account without being bombarded with blog mail.

For me, it was about a blog, but I have had others tell me that this strategy of dividing emails has really helped them in their own lives. One of my friends has a personal email account, an account for school, and a third account for work and professional emails. It takes about five minutes to set up another email account, and it's completely free, but the peace of mind and efficiency of time it adds to your life is priceless.

Life does not exist to benefit my blog. Sometimes, like my friend Jennifer, I make the mistake of living my life in terms of my blog, or at least thinking of life in terms of my blog. I read a book and I have to jot down a quote because it might work in a blog post someday. I have a conversation, and I slip it into a mental roladex of blog post topics. And, sometimes, writing a good post on a topic (prayer, children, etc.) actually ends up taking more of my time and energy than the far worthier object of the post!

This isn't right. Blogging is a fruitful and beneficial element of my life, but it is not my life, nor does my life exist for the benefit of my blog. My blog exists to benefit my life, and I need to keep this in perspective. My blog comes secondary to real life: real life relationships, duties, and pleasures. If I feel these priorities getting out of whack, it's time to reevaluate...and probably fast.

Be picky. We are particular and thoughtful about choosing our jobs, our friends, our homes, our food, our books, even the paint on our walls. When it comes to the internet, however, many of us are not so particular. We browse aimlessly. We "collect" websites in our blog roll. We have some standards, of course: no pornography; oh, and that one site that that lady runs always gets on my nerves, so I won't go there anymore; I prefer this recipe site to that one, but I'll still browse around a bit. Sound familiar? But, even with these standards, it's all too easy to glut ourselves with the tremendous amount of information available on the internet.

Phillipians 4:8 is golden here.

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is
noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is
admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such
things."

If it's true in real life, it should be true for virtual life, too. Watch out not only for core site content but all the other things you are exposed to: advertisements, comments, debates, links. If these things are consistently contrary to what's spoken about in Phillipians, you may want to stop frequenting that site, anyway, even if the core content is perfectly acceptable.

And, remember, saying "No" may be a "Yes" to something better. Like tacos.

* The Bookworm's Library has been updated: Familiaris consortio by Pope John Paul II

Upside Down Sabbath

Hello, everyone. I'm glad to be back from my "blog sabbatical." I was able to really enjoy some quality time with God and my family, reflect on some things, get some much needed catch-up rest, and reevaluate what this blog is about and how I approach it. Thank you for your prayers and thoughts during my absence. It was a nice "welcome home" to read so many words of support and encouragement from you all.

I will likely write a bit about what I learned on this "blog break" in the near future; for now, I am still mulling over and processing it all. What I want to talk about tonight was how my family's Sabbath routine flipped on its head this week.

It all started when my husband and I decided simultaneously and with no previous discussion (how's that for Providence?) to start getting involved in youth ministry at our local parish. We used to be really engaged with youth in past churches--especially my husband who even co-led summer mission trips to Mexico. It was something we had been excited to vision about when we got married. Then, life happened: a couple moves and couple kids later, we realized that this was a ministry dream that we had not yet dived into.

So, we decided to go to the Life Teen Mass at our parish. Life Teen is our name for the Senior High youth program. And, Life Teen takes place on Sunday evening after the appropriately monichered Life Teen Mass. It's pretty much like a regular Mass, except you're likely to see even more teens there--and a few more seekers, since the teens are encouraged to bring their friends--and they have a worship band instead of a cantor or a choir (no complaints from Brian and me, having both been members of worship bands). And, it takes place at 5:30 PM on Sunday.

Now, I wrote about our Sabbath routine some weeks ago, so my regular readers know that heading to Mass when the sun is already beginning to set on Sunday evening was not a part of that routine. I am used to beginning the Sabbath day at church; it always seemed to consecrate the whole day for me. It reminded me of the women at the tomb on Easter Sunday, and it seemed appropriate to celebrate Christ's Resurrection as the morning sun climbed the horizon. I was excited to take a step toward getting involved with the youth of our parish, but I wasn't so sure about how it would affect our Sabbath day as a family.

Interestingly, I found it was wonderful to worship in the evening! Instead of starting my day with Mass, the entire Sabbath culminated with it! Our family was able to take an entire leisurely day enjoying each other at home and out in God's Creation. We lingered over a delicious late breakfast, then took the kids to the playground, which of course was entirely abandoned since it was Sunday morning, so Sophia had the run of the place. While the kids napped, Brian and I enjoyed a couple of precious hours together. Then, we had our Sunday dinner around 4 PM and got ready for Mass. Then, our day found its proper consummation in the worship and Presence of Jesus Christ at Mass. It felt so right to end the Sabbath and begin the week with Jesus in the Eucharist.

I think Life Teen Mass may become a weekly fixture in our family life, and I am already feeling what an enormous blessing this will be. No morning rush for church, for one thing. I also anticipate the desire to begin our Sabbath on Saturday night. This is common practice for Jews (only it's Friday night for a Saturday Shabbat), but it makes sense for Catholics, too. Catholics are big on vigils--and not just because we love candles, which we do. No, it's that feeling of anticipation that allows for a more true fulfillment of celebration.

We have Advent before Christmas. We do not decorate for Christmas until Christmas Eve--and then we celebrate Christmas for twelve whole days! For us, the Easter sun does not shine as gloriously without the shadows of Lent; the Easter "Alleluia!" which we sing before the Gospel sounds so beautiful because we have not heard it for five weeks.

Beginning Sabbath on the vigil has a similar impact on our experience of Sabbath. First, we get an entire day to really prepare ourselves for the Sabbath. We have the opportunity to complete our work and do what we need to in the world before coming home in the evening and settling in for our day of rest as the sun sinks in the sky. We gather in the darkness around the table or at the fireside and we anticipate what is to come. Then, morning dawns, and we remember that first Easter morning and the tomb that stood empty! We gather for prayer and breakfast together. We spend time celebrating Christ's love and God's glory in our family and in the beauty of His Creation. And, then we go to bow at the feet of our Eucharistic Lord, the Lord of the Sabbath, Himself. You return home, the celebration over, and the evening lays before you to set things in order to reenter the world on Monday morning.

As a lifelong Sunday morning church-goer, I thought any other way of celebrating the day of rest would feel topsy-turvy and off-kilter. But, there was nothing upside-down about it. Though there is certainly something poignantly majestic about watching the rising sun spill through the stained glass windows upon the bowed heads of a congregation in prayer, and something exhilaratingly celebratory about beginning Sunday with the family gathered at Mass, there is something to be said for doing things "upside-down." The night to night Sabbath is what Jesus Himself celebrated while here on earth, after all.

If you have a parish that offers a Sabbath evening service, I recommend attending sometime. What a glorious way to transition from the Lord's Day into the week! And, what a wonderful way to end my week "off."

* The Bookworm's Library has been updated: Healing the Unaffirmed by Conrad Baars and Anna Terruwe

Switching Off for the Week

Hello, Ladies (and Gents).

As some of you know, it's been a rather rough summer for me. It's been a summer of growth and discover and maturity, but it's also been fraught with a number of stresses: birth, a difficult postpartum recovery, a death in my family, lots of travel with two very young children, sickness (not just James' original hospitalization, but a whole slew of illnesses for the kids complete with countless doctors appointments--nothing to worry about, but very stressful for me). Things have just not been easy.

I've tried to cut back. I've tried to relax. I've tried to get rest. It's all worked to some degree, but none of its working quite enough. So, I'm going to take a week to shut off from cyberspace to spend time with my family, my God, and myself. Please, enjoy the archives in the meantime and, if you have the time, say a little prayer for me that this "switched off week" will give me the very needed refreshment my soul is seeking.

Blessings,

Bethany

C.S. Lewis on Infidelity

A society in which conjugal infidelity is tolerated must always be in the long run a society adverse to women. Women, whatever a few male songs and satires my say to the contrary, are more naturally monogamous than men; it is a biological necessity. Where promiscuity prevails they will therefore always be more often the victims than the culprits. Also, domestic happiness is more necessary to them than to us. And the quality by which they most easily hold a man, their beauty, decreases every year after they have come to maturity, but this does not happen to those qualities of personality—women don’t really care twopence about our looks—by which we hold women. Thus in the ruthless war of promiscuity women are at a double disadvantage. They play for higher stakes and are also more likely to lose. I have no sympathy with moralists who frown at the increasing crudity of female provocativeness. These signs of desperate competition fill me with pity.

–C.S. Lewis (emphases added)

Lewis wrote this half a century ago. What are your thoughts today?

What It Means to Me: An Introduction to the Rosary, Part V

To round off our series on the rosary, here is a sort of stream of consciousness piece on what the rosary means to me.

Small metal cross in my hand,

cool at the start, and getting warmer as I

dive deeper into You.

Blue beads slip between my fingers,

prayers falling from my lips as I

fall deeper into You.

Curling up to whisper

in my Mother's ear as I

draw closer in to You.

I see Your life like
a movie in my mind

teaching me of You,

teaching me of who I am

and who You know I can be.

And maybe my kids are chatting
in the back of the van,
or I'm bouncing a fussy baby on my hip,
and I think that I have no time
no stamina
no capacity
for prayer,
and then I take the

small metal cross in my hand,
slip the first blue bead between

my fidgety fingers,

clinging,

holding on to You.

I whisper in my Mother's ear,
I think of You,
I see Your face,
I offer my prayers,
my thoughts,
my time,
and at this time,

that's everything I have to give.

I give it all to you,

one prayer,

one blue bead at a time.

Slowly, my prayers are answered.

Seasons turn and

I see You--Who never change-- anew,

but the prayers, like You, don't change

nor the blue beads in my hand,

and the small metal cross,

binds my mind and heart and will

evermore to You.

Never shifting,

You change me

with the words

and the beads

and the Cross.

Slowly, as the beads slip through my fingers,

as the days slip through to years

and the years slip out of time,

by the quiet whispers in my Mother's ear,

through the movie in my mind,

through the same, familiar prayers

I find

myself

growing

into You.

Baby Magdalene is Home!

Praise God, after three and a half weeks, Baby Magdalene finally came home yesterday afternoon! Thank you so much to all of you who prayed for her during this turbulent time. I know that she and her parents greatly appreciate it, even though they do not know you.

Isn't the beauty of the universal church so gloriously evident in circumstances like this? And, isn't it beautiful a testament to the sacredness of all human life that this little baby who has only been in this world a brief time and whom none of you have ever met, has inspired such ardent prayer on behalf of her health? I am overwhelmed by it, all of a sudden.

And now, if you would join us and Baby Magdalene's family in singing songs of praise (with or without music as you prefer :-P) to our gracious God for His faithfulness, mercy, and healing! He is so incredibly good.

Thank you, thank you, thank you again for your prayers.

How to Pray the Rosary: An Introduction to the Rosary, Part IV

I apologize in advance; this post is likely to be a little boring. Such is the nature of the beast. Actually praying the rosary is exciting and transforming; explaining how to pray the rosary is neither. It's something rather like explaining the rules of soccer as compared to actually playing a game. But, hopefully, these "rules" will serve as a necessary prerequisite for getting you into the game.



I find that, when trying to explain how to pray the rosary, it helps to have a physical rosary at hand. Since I cannot virtually transport myself and my rosary into your home or office, here is a template that I think will be helpful as we go along. You can refer to this post on the Prayers of the Rosary to read about the prayers mentioned below. Here is the post for the mysteries. The numbering I have given below corresponds to the numbers on the diagram.



Begin with the Sign of the Cross.

1. The Apostles' Creed.

2. Our Father

3. three Hail Marys--these are your "intention beads". You mentally declare your intentions or petitions as you pray each of the three Hail Marys. You can make the same intention for each bead, thus offering your rosary for a single cause, or you can use three separate intentions.

4. Glory Be

5. First Decade

• On the previous single bead or the chain connecting the single bead with the first set of 10, recite state the first mystery and pray the Our Father.
• On each of the ten beads, pray one Hail Mary and reflect on the first mystery.
• On the chain following the set of ten and preceding the next single bead (6), pray one Glory Be and one Fatima Prayer.

6. State the second mystery and pray the Our Father.

7. Second Decade

• On each of the ten beads, pray one Hail Mary while reflecting on the second mystery.
• On the chain following the set of ten and preceding the next single bead (8), pray one Glory Be and one Fatima Prayer.

8. State the third mystery and pray the Our Father.

9. Third Decade (follow guidelines for Second Decade but using the third mystery)

10. State the fourth mystery and pray the Our Father.

11. Fourth Decade (follow guidelines for Second and Third Decades but using the fourth mystery)

12. State the fifth mystery and pray the Our Father.

13. Fifth Decade (follow guidelines for the Second through Fourth Decades but using the fifthy mystery)

14. Pray the Salve Regina (Hail Holy Queen).

15. Pray the "Prayer After the Rosary" and finish with the Sign of the Cross. I actually like to do this while holding the crucifix, but strictly speaking, the prayers are not for any particular bead of the rosary.

Later this week, I will write about my own personal experiences with praying the rosary and what it means to me. Have a blessed Monday.

Respect Life Sunday

This Sunday, churches across America are celebrating Respect Life Sunday. I invite anyone who cares deeply about Right to Life issues in our society to take some time to pray for those whose right to life is threatened or demeaned in our culture of death.

If you wish to become actively invovled in the pro-life movement, I encourage you to join the current 40 Days for Life campaign. Also, consider writing to your representatives asking them to support and defend life in health care reform legislation--a major concern in our country right now.

Finally, especially for those on the fence about Right to Life issues, I offer these provocative and truth-saturated words from the late Pope John Paul II. May they inspire compassion and conviction in your hearts.

"For man, the right to life is the fundamental right. And yet, a part of contemporary culture has wanted to deny that right, turning it into an ‘uncomfortable’ right, one that has to be defended. But there is no other right that so closely affects the very existence of the person! The right to life means the right to be born and then continue to live until one’s natural end: ‘As long as I live, I have the right to live.’

"The question of conceived and unborn children is a particularly delicate yet clear problem. The legalization of the termination of pregnancy is none other than the authorization given to an adult, with the approval of an established law, to take the lives of children yet unborn and thus incapable of defending themselves. It is difficult to imagine a more unjust situation…

"Often the question is presented as a woman’s right to free choice regarding the life already existing inside her, that she carries in her womb…Anyone can see that the alternative here is only apparent. It is not possible to speak of the right to choose when a clear moral evil is involved, when what is at stake is the commandment Do not kill!”

- Pope John Paul II, Crossing the Threshold of Hope

A Rose Petal Cake for St. Therese

I made this cake for St. Therese’s feast on October 1st. Since she is sometimes known as “the Little Flower,” one of her symbols is the rose. I was going to use pink roses, like the cake depicted here at Catholic Cuisine, but realized I was out of red food coloring. But, I think white roses might be more appropriate for Therese, anyway, both to symbolize her virginity and her youth (she was only 24 when she died).

I used my standard one-bowl vanilla cake recipe, separated the cakes into a total of four layers, spread two layers with raspberry jam, and finished it all off with seven-minute coconut frosting. Then, I just used some ivory roses, care of COSTCO for decoration. Simple but very elegant. I was thinking this would also be a lovely cake for a bridal shower.

After the fact, I came up with a really great idea for next year: a “carmel”-rose cake! Therese was a Carmelite nun. My idea was either to use a white cake and frost it with a milk chocolate icing (the carmelite habit is brown, about the color of milk chocolate), or to use a caramel (get it—caramel, Carmel?) frosting! I’m rather partial to the idea of caramel, myself. I was thinking I would make white cake with apple butter in the layers and caramel frosting. What do you think?

Ah, the joy of feast days—“There’s so much scope for imagination!” as Anne Shirley would say.

Do You Believe You Are Beautiful?

I just had to share this beautiful article by Elizabeth Foss about learning to understand that we are beautiful, just as God made us. It's a message that so many women today need to hear!