On Not Leaving Jesus Out of the Pro-Life Movement

I'm an enthusiastic supporter of Pro-Life Allies, a coalition of nontraditional and traditional pro-lifers united in an effort to save babies regardless of ideological disagreements on virtually every other issue. Having help from the nonreligious community, the LGBTQ community, the non-Christian community, the non-white community, the non-old-white-Republican-male community, is an essential element of the contemporary pro-life movement as it faces a world drifting away from religious dogmatism and cultural conservatism. Whether this drifting is a good thing or a bad thing is most certainly up for debate, but the proud position of Pro-Life Allies is that abortion -- and ultimately, the entire culture of death -- cannot be taken down without help from all angles.

And while I am an enthusiastic supporter of Pro-Life Allies, and wish in no way, shape, or form to take away from their abundantly awesome message and methods, I do want to make something VERY clear (eesh, that reminds me of Cecile Richards. I promise the next thing I say isn't going to be a lie):

As believers in Christ who make up His Church on earth, we will do the world, and the entire pro-life movement, a major disservice if we do not take ourselves to prayer.

The release of the videos showing Planned Parenthood for who they really are behind closed doors has had me reeling; I can barely sleep, let alone think about much else. Watching the remains of little baby Emmett being sifted through and callously regarded as nothing more than profit in a petri dish left me feeling helpless and completely useless. What the hell can I possibly do? How can I help? What can be done?

And a steady, constant force welling up from deep within my spirit prompts me: pray.

Don't try to kid yourself: this is a battle of good against evil, and of God against Satan and the works of darkness. Nothing short of Satan could possibly be behind this evil. These children, created in the image of God, are being ripped from their mothers' wombs and all signs indicate that their body parts are being sold. This is disgusting.

We can -- and should -- acknowledge that this evil is profoundly contrary to the standards of care the medical community should be held to, to the ideals feminism are founded on, to humanitarianism and pacifism, to life in a civilized society. But we would be foolish to neglect this simple reality: these acts offend God, and there is no use going to war with the devil if we aren't equipped with the authority, power, and mercy of Jesus Christ to be our swords and shields.

I am thankful that Pro-Life Allies has not at all insisted that we steer the pro-life movement away from religion (they have, rightly so, rather insisted that the pro-life movement need not only belong to the religious).

But let me emphatically state, in the words of Jesus Christ: "You can do nothing apart from me." (John 15:5)

And again, from Paul: "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13)

This world needs God. And we, the Church, need to be lending His mercy and aid to all things we participate in. Prayer is where we draw our strength. Prayer is where we align our will to God's. Prayer is the well from which all graces for our ordinary, day-to-day life flow. The Catechism urges us:

Christian petition is centered on the desire and search for the Kingdom to come, in keeping with the teaching of Christ. There is a hierarchy in these petitions: we pray first for the Kingdom, then for what is necessary to welcome it and cooperate with its coming. This collaboration with the mission of Christ and the Holy Spirit, which is now that of the Church, is the object of the prayer of the apostolic community. It is the prayer of Paul, the apostle par excellence, which reveals to us how the divine solicitude for all the churches ought to inspire Christian prayer. By prayer every baptized person works for the coming of the Kingdom.

As believers, we owe it to the pro-life movement to pray. As believers, we owe it to the world to unite ourselves to God, who is perfect though we are not. As believers, we owe it to women and their children to concern ourselves with the concerns of the One who cares for the oppressed, the marginalized, the helpless, the hopeless, the needy, and the dying.

And so, I am begging you: please pray for the pro-life movement. Please pray for an end to the devastation Planned Parenthood is inflicting on the world. Pray pray pray and pray some more. I really can't say it enough.

We need prayer. The pro-life movement needs prayer. Maybe we could make abortion illegal without prayer, but I don't want to try. And here's one thing I do know: the culture we live in will not change without the help of our redeeming God. We need Him. Don't forget.

"Thank you, Lord, for waking me up today."

I've seen several different posts passed around on Facebook over the last few months that mention something about being thankful that God let you wake up another day. It is a moving concept, and one I'm thankful so many of my friends find comfort and peace in.

However, being someone with a mental illness, I don't particularly find it comforting. I find it, in fact, rather bitter. And I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Let me begin by saying that I am NOT saying we shouldn't be thankful to wake up every morning! We most definitely should be. "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it."

What I am saying is that, sometimes...that's really hard. There are mornings scattered across my life when I wake up and am pointedly ungrateful to see the light of another day; days I wake up wishing, hoping, and praying that someday soon I won't wake up.

It's dark. It's morbid. It's true -- and not just for me.

Life is hard, and sometimes we don't want to participate anymore. It's not necessarily that we want to die, though that can and sometimes is very much the case. Sometimes it's just a constant thought that life would be easier if we didn't have to live it. I know not everyone will understand that sentiment, but I hope to relay a message to those who do:

You are not bad for being unable to feel thankful to be alive.

You're not bad for having a difficult time finding meaning in your life.

You're not a bad Christian for asking Gpd to bring you home more often than you thank Him for your life on earth.

You're not a bad person for wanting to curl up in a ball and avoid anyone and everyone.

You're you, and you have feelings. And you, you-who-has-feelings, are so, so good.

See, whether we feel it or not, one thing that is constant in our lives is the deep and abiding love God has for each of us. And, rest assured, along with loving you, He likes you.

He made you and He claims you and even when everything feels off and miserable He wants you in His life. He died for us. That doesn't change because of our feelings, or lack of.

I'm not a psychologist and I'm not a self-help guru. I don't have all the answers, and for this topic, I very well may not have any answers.

But I did, really, want to put something out there for any of you struggling who see these posts on your social media profiles: You're not bad for not feeling it.

God doesn't condemn us for having feelings. God loves us in our feelings. God knows about our feelings, and He doesn't see any reason for you to be ashamed of them.

Be assured of my prayers.

You can't pray the Fatima prayer without at least kind of agreeing with Fr. Barron

I'm sure you've heard by now: Fr. Robert Barron has been elected auxiliary bishop of Los Angeles by Pope Francis. And I'm doubly sure you've heard by now: HE BELIEVES IT IS POSSIBLE TO HAVE REASONABLE HOPE THAT ALL PEOPLE WILL BE SAVED!!!111oneoneone

People are freaking. out. all over social media, putting quotes around 'Fr.' and making passive jokes about the eventually-dead Bishop-Elect being surprised to end up in hell (what the eff). Wild accusations have been thrown around by people I can only assume have never a day in their life read or listened to anything from Bishop-Elect Barron -- accusations like that he doesn't believe in hell, that he said all people go to heaven, that he's a heretic. I could go on. And on. And on. (Especially about the respect priests deserve simply for the fact of being a priest!)

But, while I could spill more ink in defense of Bishop-Elect Barron than has already been spilt, I'll instead refer you here to let him speak for himself.

I have something else to say.

I would like to turn your attention now to the Fatima prayer, given to us by Our Lady of Fatima. This is the prayer Mary urged us to pray at the end of each decade of the Rosary, and it goes as follows:

O, my Jesus,

Forgive us our sins.

Save us from the fires of hell,

And lead all souls to heaven,

Especially those in most need

Of Thy mercy.

"And lead all souls to heaven." Unless we want to accuse Mary of being a heretic, of not believing in hell, or believing all souls will certainly go to heaven, maybe it's time we back off of Bishop-Elect Barron. In fact, I dare say it isn't possible to pray the Fatima prayer with any sincerity if one does not at least HOPE that all people will be saved! This is not the same as claiming to know all people will be saved, nor is it the same as denying the existence of hell. It is grounded in Christian hope and zeal for souls. Nothing else.

As for the concern that a "reasonable hope that all people will be saved" will diminish evangelization efforts, I think the opposite is true. If someone truly HOPES (note: not claims to know) that all souls can be saved, you can bet that person is going to want to do their part. It is, in fact, this hope of mine which urges me to pray for the souls who have left this world who were nothing short of dastardly, such as Josef Mengele and Margaret Sanger. It is due to this HOPE that I am compelled to pray for their souls rather than rest in the false comfort of presuming that they are "among the many who are damned." Has anyone ever considered the danger of presuming most people will go to hell? What happens to evanglization, then, if we believe our efforts will by and large fail and that only a small portion of humanity will ultimately repent and believe in the Gospel?

Stop mischaracterizing a priest (who will soon be a bishop). Stop taking him out of context. Stop disrespecting him. You don't have to agree with him about hope to at very least give him the benefit of studying for yourself in an unbiased fashion what he teaches about the hope of salvation for all people.

Pray for him as he approaches his new assignment. And, pray with him that Jesus will "lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of [His] mercy."

The Defense of Marriage

My friend Jim Warner made a post on Facebook several days ago, and with his permission, I'm posting it here. Jim has an exceptionally important message for those of us who love marriage and want to defend it for what God created it to be. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to share his thoughts, and I hope you won't pass up the opportunity to read them.

In watching my brothers and sisters attempt to defend marriage, I have seen arise more often than anything else, one common objection, which typically is voiced along these lines:

“You complain that the sanctity of marriage will be lost once gays can legally marry… Seriously? If marriage is supposed to be an all holy ceremony, then how do you explain TV shows like “The Bachelor” where men/women fight for the love of someone just so they can "win" the show? A heterosexual can marry and divorce more partners in a lifetime than you have fingers on your hands to count, but you don’t want gays to marry the person they love?”

And you know what?

They’re right.

The reason why arguments in defense of marriage are falling upon deaf ears today is because the entity that a lot of (dare I say most?) people are defending is a rotted, hallowed out, pruned and picked over scrap of what was once the glorious Institution upon which society is built and which society relies for its livelihood. What many today call marriage is nothing more than a legal agreement, served at the mere convenience of those involved, and instantaneously dissolvable at will, once that perceived convenience diminishes. It is certainly not the binding covenant, vowed before our Lord ‘till death do us part, which transcends the material world, and which properly constitutes the Sacrament of Matrimony in its merit and splendor.

The tides of social change in the past few years, culminating in last week’s Supreme Court decision, are only the latest step in the logical pathway that we as a society have charted for the institution that we once so highly venerated as marriage. The introduction of travesties like normalized fornication, contraception, infidelity, no-fault divorce, abortion, and pornography have eaten away at the Institution of Marriage like acid on a rock, producing a contraption so unrecognizable that it can, in all honestly, hardly be called “marriage.” To say otherwise—to try to defend the fractured institution that we have sculpted (or rather, chiseled away) these past few decades—would be tantamount to encountering a dying animal on the side of the road, and callously attempting to keep it alive with band aids before sending it on its way, instead of simply putting the poor thing out of its misery.

The *only* way to convincingly defend marriage today is to defend the Institution in its entirety. Defend the sacrament as a unique, unrepeatable expression of eternal Trinitarian Love whose inherent two-fold goal is the cultivation of spousal unity and the procreation of new life, and by whose merits a healthy society relies in order to survive. Fall short of proclaiming this great reality in your defense, and you descend into mere hypocrisy at best. But proclaim this awesome covenant in its fullness and truth, and you will have told the world of one of the greatest powers for good in our time.

Why I Stay Catholic

I had many reasons not to be Catholic when I decided to be Catholic. I was baptized Catholic as a baby, but as I got older I didn't like what the Church taught about Mary, sex, gay marriage, contraception, the pope, and you know, like, all the rest.

I actually stumbled back into the Church very much by accident. After a tiring and determined period of atheism, I went through a series of belief exchanges trying to find "where I fit." After I realized I was more or less a deist, I quickly realized I didn't believe deism made sense. I couldn't fathom a created world not crumbling apart from the care and attention of its first cause. I examined Islam, Judaism, various sects of Protestantism, and eventually came to my own set of personal beliefs about God and the world. I wanted to be anything but Catholic. I wanted to believe in freedom and love and compassion, which was not Catholicism (or so I thought).

It was around this time that I happened across the Catechism of the Catholic Church I received as part of my Confirmation process in high school. Here was my chance, I thought, to get a sneak peak into what the Church taught so I could be more equipped to refute it and more ready to defend myself from its oppressive tyranny.

And instead, I was floored. This was poetry. This was beauty. This was intellectual. This was true. I found that Catholicism had all the answers to all the questions of my mind. But, I won't get too carried away with that story. That is why I chose to be Catholic. But, it is not why I stay Catholic.

Because, most importantly, Catholicism has all the answers to my heart's aching, burning questions. I stay Catholic for one primary reason: Jesus Christ, the God of the universe and Lord of heaven and earth, through whom I exist and in whom I live and move and have my being, wants to be one flesh with me. I have a deep yearning thirst for unshaking, eternal love. And I find that in the Eucharist.k

In many ways, I am a different person than I was three, four, five years ago. Still in many ways, though, I am very much the same. I am fickle. I am irritable. I lack patience and humility. I care deeply for humanity, and I am regularly disappointed and devastated by the lack of compassion displayed by those who claim Christ as their Lord.

Every now and then, I grow weary. I get run down. I suck. People suck. Sometimes I even ask myself why I stay Catholic.

And the answer is always just a short drive away, waiting for me in the perpetual Adoration chapel.

The Eucharist is the source of my hope, life, joy, peace, and the very meaning of my life. I stay Catholic because, if I lost the Eucharist, I would lose everything that makes my life livable. I stay Catholic because I believe this radical love story is true. God became my sustainence. He became my nourishment. He became food and drink for me. Out of love. Because He wants such a radically close intimacy with me that He dwells within me not only spiritually but physically.

I stay Catholic because this Eucharistic love enriches my life in such a powerful way that my life would be over if it were ever taken from me.

As I mentioned earlier, I received a Catechism during my Confirmation preparation. But, at my Confirmation, I received graces that would enrich my life as soon as I was willing to receive them several years later. And by the grace of God, at my confirmation, I took Peter as my Confirmation name.

And like Peter, if even the world walked away from the gift of the Eucharist, my heart, though perhaps confused and exhausted, would beat to an unchanging rhythm: Master, to whom else can I go?

Pope Francis is the Vicar of Christ did y'all's mamas ever teach you about respect

It seems like no matter what Pope Francis does, somebody somewhere has a problem with it. Whether it is his meeting with a transgendered person, or his meeting with a gay activist, or whatever, somebody FREAKS OUT about how obviously Pope Francis is going to ruin the Church.

Today I read several comments from people concerned that they "couldn't tell what side the pope is on." Because he doesn't click with their application or interpretation of how they live out their Catholic faith, he's a heretic who wants to destroy the Church from the inside...or something.

Even worse, it goes beyond questioning. Some outright call the Holy Father a heretic; some outright accuse him of abandoning orthodox principles; some outright gossip about him "liking attention too much" or "needing people to like him."

Without exaggerating in the least, this behavior from Catholics is disgusting.

Not only is Pope Francis a human being and therefore inherently owed a certain level of respect and reverence as being created in the Image of God, he is the Vicar of Christ on earth. He is permanently marked and set aside for Christ in a unique way as a priest, and he is owed due honor and respect from the entire Catholic faithful as the successor of St. Peter. This respect and reverence is due Pope Francis in a special way not because of who he is, necessarily, but Who he represents; and by the grace of his reception of Holy Orders, Who he represents is eternally knit into the fabric of who he is.

And if anyone doubts that Pope Francis is the representative of Christ on earth in a unique and special way, simply pay heed to his behavior and the responses it gets. He is a man of character, compassion, and orthodoxy, who understands that the Person of Jesus Christ is what is central to the law and not the other way around. He meets and eats with sinners, he identifies with the downtrodden, he is a beacon of hope and a voice crying out for repentance and mercy.

And people hate his behavior. He is kind, so they aren't sure if he's faithful. He is generous and unassuming, so they aren't sure if he's Catholic.

Does this remind you of anyone? Has anyone else in all of human history been met with hostility and disdain for being compassionate and identifying with the outcasts of society and those who are seen more as political issues more than human beings? The Pope is truly the Vicar of Christ on earth.

So go ahead, if you like. Run to the law to crucify his character in spite of his never having advocated for its abandonment. Openly criticize this man carefully chosen for this time in history who is bringing life back into the Church. Mock his personality. Strip away his reputation and spit in the face of all the good work he's done.

I only ask that you remember Whose he is, Who he serves, and the Man he represents as you do it.

Jesus Saves

Jesus saves.

I know; you've heard it a million times, right? It's not like you'd ever say "Who cares?" but sometimes -- even if you only admit it to yourself -- in the back of your mind you wonder: "So what?"

I think about this often. The people of Jesus' time were so amazed at Him. Some were afraid, some felt threatened, others found hope. People would travel for miles -- literally -- in the hope of touching his shirt -- literally. We hear the stories of the man whose friends tore a hole in a roof in order to lower him down to Jesus, the woman with the  hemorrhage who dreamed of only ever touching the hem of His garment, the Samaritan woman who was so astounded by His words she went and told everyone in town...the list goes on. 

Jesus transformed, Jesus terrified, Jesus uplifted, and Jesus unsettled. Jesus was so wildly loved that His Apostles were consistently frazzled trying to keep Him safe from pressing crowds; He Himself often retreated into solitude and silence to avoid crowds. He was so powerful that He stirred a deep and unshakeable fear in the hearts of the religious elite of His time, so much so that they convinced a mob to elect to kill Him. He performed miracles. He made wild claims. He boldly proclaimed a kingdom, a dawn of hope, and a coming judgment -- and onlookers hung on every word.

When He died, the sky turned black and the earth shook under the weight of His cross. When He rose again, His disciples couldn't decide between being afraid and being overjoyed.

He was shocking. He was amazing. He was groundbreaking.

Jesus was not boring.

And yet we find ourselves more bored than in awe at the sacrifice of the Mass. After we manage to survive sitting through prophecies and foreshadowings of the Incarnate Love of God and a ten minute sermon about it, Jesus Christ, God Incarnate, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, who was slain at Calvary, is presented to us on the altar. And we're thinking about what sounds good for lunch.

It is beyond my comprehension why God would become so small and humble that He becomes bread. Bread, of all things. Sure, bread is a staple in our lives, but it's probably one of the most simultaneously overlooked and taken for granted staples we have. We much prefer steak and potatoes and cauliflower and chicken, don't we? But bread. He chooses bread.

But then again, God is beyond my comprehension. I am learning to stop analyzing Him and to start worshipping Him. And the humility of this moment strikes me:

"This is my Body, given up for you."

The most important words ever uttered by a human being that will ever be heard by human beings met with snot bubbles and yawns. We don't care. Why don't we care? Why don't I care?

Why don't I care that the Man who has saved my life in a very real and tangible way wants to consummate a physical and spiritual union with me by giving me Himself as bread to eat in order to give me a share in His divine life? He pours Himself out in love, over and over again, and as I'm writing this I wonder if it's something like a mother and her baby.

God help me, I have the attention span of a fly (do flies have attention spans?). I go to Mass every Sunday and try -- I try, guys -- to focus and listen and take in the grace which overflows in abundance from the chalice and the host. And every. time. I'm lost, thinking about something else.

But Jesus remains wholly focused on me. He has heard my cries from the past week from heaven and He now comes down to meet me and soothe me. First, He comforts me with words. Through the opening strains of the Mass and through the readings, it's almost like He is trying to calm me; "Be still; I'm coming; I'm here now; I've got you." And all the while, perhaps I'm still screaming, at least in my mind. Itching, restless, searching, yearning. Unfulfilled. Discontent. And He meets me there. And He gives me His flesh, His life, for food. I am nourished by His body, whether I'm paying attention or not, and for a short while after Communion He holds me even while my mind wanders.

Maybe I'll never know why we're so distracted. I'll probably never know why I'm so distracted. I may never be able to fix it, but I do know one thing is for sure:

Jesus saves, even when I'm not paying attention.