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.

Remembering Mary on Mother's Day

I'm usually annoyed by Timehop, mostly because I was annoying when I was younger (and like to pretend I'm not anymore and never was). But today, Timehop reminded me of a Facebook status I posted a year ago, before I had a blog to put it on, and I'm really glad it did. I've copied and pasted the entirety of the status here.

It is fitting that Jesus would give us His Mother from the cross. It was prophesied to Mary when Jesus was presented in the Temple that "a sword would pierce her own heart also, that the secret thoughts of many hearts may be revealed." Without a doubt, when Jesus' heart was pierced, Mary's own heart was pierced -- she who loved God totally, so totally that she conceived Him in the flesh in her very person, and bore Him into the world. He truly, as any mother would say of her son, is her heart.

There is a reason Jesus gave us His mother from the cross -- a reason that her own heart was pierced with His. The Catechism says that Jesus died, not as though He was being "punished in our place," but because, by His death into our death, He wanted to bring to us a share in His life.

And so, while giving His life for us, so that He could give His life to us, on the cross, it would only make sense that He would also give us His mother -- the woman who gave Him life, that He shared the majority of His life with. It is fitting that He who calls us to be born again, finishes His work on the cross by giving us a mother to be born to, through that work.

Giving us our Mother Mary was important to Jesus. The Scriptures say He didn't give up His life until He saw that "all had been accomplished" when He had given her to us to be our Mother.

Mary's maternity over us is a fruit of our Redemption. It is not the most important fruit, but it is a very important one. It is one we should never take for granted. After all, as my friend Joey pointed out today: Jesus got to pick His own mother. There really is something special about this woman, and I would definitely encourage every Christian who doesn't already have one to develop a relationship with her. She is the greatest treasure in my life apart from God Himself. I take her for granted so often -- but she has never, ever let me down.

Happy Mother's Day, Theotokos. Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

The Day the New York Times Saved Me From Evil, Evil Catholicism

I remember it vividly -- the day an army of grossnasty Vatican men came to force me into their grossnasty men cult. I was just finishing my daily meditation on the magnificence of the Hillary Clinton and Elizabeth Warren, daydreaming in spurts about how much I love abortion and freebleeding and stuff, when I heard three loud booms against my front door. "Who iiiis it?" I sang, with exactly none of the frilly princess nonsense of Disney damsels. "Oh, you know, just the ice cream man, here with a boatload of chocolates and unicorns, just for you!" Awesome!

I twirled to the door, not realizing it would be the last time I would see my home, my feminist utopia set apart from the rest of the patriarchal mainstream society I found myself smothered by everywhere I turned. I opened the door, but there was no ice cream man there. It was instead a bunch of old white men in dresses trying to tell me who I should and shouldn't sleep with even though they're all like virgins or something so what the hell do they know anyway.

I was terrified. Naturally, I couldn't defend myself from these scary old dudes, each of them shouting random slurs such as "Birth control is a sin!" and "Women shouldn't be priests!" I was aghast, and each exclamation shot through my heart like a martini tossed at an abortion clinic. Unable to retaliate, I was easily bound and gagged, and not in the cool way they talk about in Twilight fanfictions. In the bad way. I was thrown into the back of a big scary black van and held hostage for five years, brainwashed into accepting an ancient faith which undoubtedly holds no relevance in the world today, let alone in my life...until one day, the New York Times delivered a breathtaking and astonishing reality check on everything the Catholic Church has been wrong about for centuries. With a new surge of #womynpower coursing through my lady veins, I broke free of my shackles, kicked all those grossnasty men in the face, and crawled out into the real world again. The real world where I could change my profile picture to "Ready for Hillary" without receiving a flogging. The real world where I could receive Communion from any Catholic church I wanted while living in "serious sin" without being tackled to the ground by a bunch of grossnasty old virgin dudes who don't know the first thing about having a vagina to look after anyway.

...

I hope it didn't take too long to get your bullshit radar blazing.

Recently, the New York Times put out an article decrying the Catholic Church's alleged sexism, especially in regards to the all-male priesthood and teachings against contraception, pointing out that priests are called "father" but women religious are called "sister," and reminding everyone (except Catholics, who never forgot) that Jesus appeared first to Mary Magdelene after His Resurrection. The writer seems to easily forget -- or, if my inclination is correct, he has never actually researched anything he's talking about -- about Mother Teresa, and every woman in her same position who shares her title, and the ages-old title given to Mary Magdelene, the Apostle to the Apostles.

But, I'll try my very best to put my feverish desire to correct all of his atrocious attempts at exegesis and explaining Catholic theology aside (it comes with pursuing a degree in Theology, which I'm allowed to do, even though I'm a woman. Calm down. Control your shaking and vomiting, please.) to point out how brilliantly arrogant it is for a non-Catholic man to accuse every Catholic woman on the planet of Stockholm Syndrome.

I love being a member of the Catholic Church, the Church I ultimately chose to be a part of. The Church I chose to be a part of even after a fierce internal wrestling match with everything I held dear about religion and God and a mountainous heap of the Church's teachings. Yes, there was some discomfort with the ban on contraception, the weird obsession the Church seemed to have with sex and gay marriage, and the all-male priesthood. Yes, there was some hesitating. No, I wasn't forced into this religion against my will and no, no one coerced me into submitting to the Church's authority on these matters. I chose to for myself.

How bitterly insulting to be told by this man that I can't think for myself, that half of my personal heroes were little more than victims. Many of the intellectual, spiritual, and social giants I admire most were Catholic women, many of them now Saints. I'd like to see his feeble grasp on theology square up against the minds and writings of Teresa of Avila, Edith Stein, and Therese of Lisieux. I'd like to see him tell Mary Magdelene that her dear friends Peter and John, the latter of whom she clung to as her Lord died in agony, were out to oppress her and make her subservient to them, even though they showed her a profound respect and admiration she would not have been shown by other men during her time, let alone religious men, by regarding her as their equal. I'd like to see him tell Dorothy Day to run for the hills from the Catholic Church. I'd like to see him tell Flannery O'Connor to abandon the Eucharist in pursuit of a more century-appropriate vocation for her as a woman or something. But most of all, I'd love to see him stand before the throne of Mary Immaculate, the Queen of Heaven and Earth and the Mother of God Almighty, and tell her that the Catholic Church undervalues women and their role in society by only ordaining men and preserving spiritual symbolism which exalts men over women...somehow.

There is much more I can say. Like I said, theology students seem to all come together in the habit of wanting to defend the Church's teachings from those who haven't tried in the slightest to understand them. But, I'll leave that to someone this man might actually listen to. Why, I wonder, would he listen to me anyway? I'm just a Catholic woman, oppressed and sad and all that. What could I possibly know anyway?