Posts Tagged Roman Catholic

Here are three recent articles you may or may not have missed

Exploring Mary McCarthy’s Whittier, by Andy Sturdevant
Mary McCarthy is well-known as a writer, a critic, a political activist, and as an atheist who cherished the Catholic Religious education that taught her to love reason and art. In a wonderful article for MinnPost, Sturdevant revisits the Minneapolis, Minnesota, neighborhood that McCarthy chronicles in her autobiography, Memories of a Catholic Girlhood. The accompanying photos he snaps along the way are perfect.

For those unfamiliar with MinnPost, it is a non-profit, member-supported, on-line newspaper/magazine based in the Twin Cities… think Minnesota Public Radio (without the pretentiousness) in print.

The Global War on Christians in the Muslim World, by Ayaan Hirsi Ali
Newsweek cover stories are difficult to miss. But in case you did not see it, this cover article by Ali is a no-holds-barred recounting of the dire situation Christianity is facing today in the Muslim world. While the Western media routinely makes sure we know about every “insult” or grievance Muslims around the world feel have been made against Islam, their founder, or their sacred book, there seems to be much less attention paid to the story of Christian churches being destroyed and Christians being martyred throughout the world precisely for what they believe. She includes eye-opening numbers. That a mainstream media standard like Newsweek would have the temerity to even broach the subject alone should indicate how dire the situation really is: “Christians are being killed in the Islamic world because of their religion. It is a rising genocide that ought to provoke global alarm.”

In Defense of Religious Freedom, Evangelicals and Catholics Together
The March issue of First Things was passed along to me by my in-laws who had had it passed along to them by a neighbor who subscribes to the print version. Over the years I have checked out their website a few times. This timely article on religious freedom from the March print issue is also available for free on the web.

When it comes to theological issues, I am, admittedly, a bit more conservative than most of the people I interact with on a daily basis. It was not always that way. In my younger days I was the most liberal person I knew. Over the years I have grown much less traditionally liberal… with the exception of issues of economic justice.
For that reason, I have always had mixed feelings when reading First Things. I enjoy the thoughtful discourse, but am bothered at times by the number of writers who seem to ascribe to the George Will school of writing: throw in as many obscure references and latinates as possible to convince your readers that you really are smart and so what you are saying really must  be true.

I have also been bothered over the years by their economic related articles that seem to follow the familiar morality-play line: blame the victim for their economic situation… poor people are poor in capitalism only  because of the poor choices they make. Whatever happened to the idea of “There but by the grace of God go I”?  Yet Pharisees are Pharisees. When you reject the idea that God shows preferential love for the poor… that the cross (suffering) is the way that Christ showed us… it is easy to start believing that all the gifts that were given to you by God were in all actuality earned by you through your hard work and your great moral choices. (Forgive the rant… but as I said above, on economic issues I remain a recalcitrant radical.)

Yet when it comes to subjects like religious freedom, I share much in common with the writers of First Things.  Religious freedom is under attack worldwide… especially religious freedom for Christians. Ali’s Newsweek article points to the obvious attack on Christian religious freedom in the Muslim world, but the attack against Christian religious freedom in the Western world is just as dangerous… it is only more subtle. In a culture that “worships death” (John Paul II) and “relativism” (Benedict XVI) morality is often turned on its head. Moral evil is often called a “freedom” or a “choice.” Faith is forced from the public square and marginalized. Traditional religious teachings are called “bigotry.” In short, the West is tearing itself down from within even as the enemy is at the gates.

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Here are two articles you may or may not have missed.

The Catholicization of the American Right, by Howard Schweber 
The first, “The Catholicization of the American Right,” by Howared Schweber, comes from The Huffington Post. In it, Schweber hits upon the irony of Thomistic/Natural Law having become the philosophical/theological underpinnings of the Protestant-Evangelical right. Martin Luther, the grandfather of the Protestant experiment once said, “Faith must trample under foot all reason, sense, and understanding.” Now his spiritual descendants are relying on the very theology they have so long rejected to help them make their decisions.

Schweber nails the difference between the truly Catholic way of looking at the world and the Protestant way when he writes of Santorum:

he talks frequently about natural law, but rarely quotes the Bible directly — his arguments draw on a theologically informed view of the nature of the world, not a personal relationship with the text.

Indeed, in the past Santorum has been quite forthright about the fact that he does not look to the Bible for guidance, he relies quite properly on the guidance of the Church.  There is obviously nothing wrong with that … but it sits very curiously with traditional Evangelical Protestant attitudes.

“‘Phony Theology’ and Evangelical Identity Politics”, by Steve Kornacki
The second article, “‘Phony Theology’ and Evangelical Identity Politics”, by Steve Kornacki, comes from Salon.com. It points to the peculiar dilemma Protestant Evangelical voters now find themselves in. They are being forced to choose in the Republican primaries between voting either for a Roman Catholic (Santorum or Gingrich) or an Anti-Christian (Romney). What this means in November seems evident: they will not show up in sufficient numbers to influence any vote and hence, Obama will win.

One of the aspects of the campaign that has remained most interesting to me is how no SuperPac for Santorum or Gingrich has yet decided to play the “do you know what kind of bizarre things Mormons really believe” card. As a southern strategy it would lead to a complete rout. Give Romney credit, he has managed to convince even those who treat being “born-again” as a litmus test that what he believes is merely a private matter and so should be left alone. I have no doubt that if he wins the nomination, some Obama-supporting SuperPac will not make the same mistake.

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MontanaWriter has been on an unplanned holiday of sorts. A stepping back and a stepping away.

While a successful blog strategy is dependent on consistent and regular postings, writing – at least for me – is dependent on… an emptied and rested mind.

Life at middle age seems a series of obligations. Obligations that overwhelm, that take energy and focus away from what we most want to be mindful of. Under the burden of obligation, imagination’s fires cool, the spirit becomes restless, horizons diminish.

For the artistic personality, it is difficult to separate imagination and the spiritual… even for those of us who are trained theologians. Maybe especially for those of us who are trained theologians. It brings to mind what Yeats wrote in the poem “The Choice”:

The intellect of man is forced to choose
perfection of the life, or of the work,
And if it take the second must refuse
A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.

A number of years ago I became Catholic. I became Catholic because that is all I could do. A lifetime of reading and writing, of taking words as seriously as a man can take words taught me that words are too ephemeral to hang much of your faith on.

The Protestant bible is an onion. Try as you might to peel back the layers of the words but in the end you will find only stories told and re-told, then written down and copied from imperfect manuscript to imperfect manuscript, then translated and translated again. In the end, each word is simply a guess at a meaning that has long ago slipped away.

There should be nothing scary in this realization. That is why we have the sacraments. Water is water. Bread is bread. Wine is wine. Marriage is… well, more fluid than the rest of the sacraments. But that is a discussion for different days.

For today it is enough to say that faith cannot rely on words. If words were enough, Jesus would simply have written and disseminated his own books in his own hand instead of relying on others to pass things along so imperfectly in so many languages and letters and gospels.

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When I lived in Chicago I would occasionally go to a little bar to read and study over a pint of Guinness… and to watch Cubs games in the spring and fall. One of the waitresses, who was young and pretty and very much in love with a med student at the University of Chicago, was an on-again off-again French Literature student. Seeing me reading Yeats one day she said, “You should read Belloc. He makes English beautiful… and fun. Everybody in Chicago reads too much Irish Literature. Irish poetry is depressing, just like Irish music.”

Belloc was an unrepentant Roman Catholic with a prophetic eye. From the Wikipedia article on Belloc, comes this quote, which I have found re-quoted several places over the last few years, by various writers:

The story must not be neglected by any modern, who may think in error that the East has finally fallen before the West, that Islam is now enslaved—to our political and economic power at any rate if not to our philosophy. It is not so. Islam essentially survives, and Islam would not have survived had the Crusade made good its hold upon the essential point of Damascus. Islam survives. Its religion is intact; therefore its material strength may return. Our religion is in peril, and who can be confident in the continued skill, let alone the continued obedience, of those who make and work our machines? … There is with us a complete chaos in religious doctrine… We worship ourselves, we worship the nation; or we worship (some few of us) a particular economic arrangement believed to be the satisfaction of social justice… Islam has not suffered this spiritual decline; and in the contrast between [our religious chaos and Islam's] religious certitudes still strong throughout the Mohammedan world lies our peril. ~ Hillaire Belloc

“October” is fine example of what Belloc in his poetry does best. It is certainly a fine poem for an October day.

Enjoy!

October
Look, how those steep woods on the mountain’s face
Burn, burn against the sunset; now the cold
Invades our very noon: the year’s grown old,
Mornings are dark, and evenings come apace.
The vines below have lost their purple grace,
And in Forreze the white wrack backward rolled,
Hangs to the hills tempestuous, fold on fold,
And moaning gusts make desolate all the place.

Mine host the month, at thy good hostelry,
Tired limbs I’ll stretch and steaming beast I’ll tether;
Pile on great logs with Gascon hand and free,
And pour the Gascon stuff that laughs at weather;
Swell your tough lungs, north wind, no whit care we,
Singing old songs and drinking wine together.

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(copyright © m.a.h. hinton)

As a poet, Denise Levertov’s work consistently reflects her interests in politics and religion. Her style shows her willingness to push boundaries, to demand space in literature for things of “ultimate concern.” It is this that I have always most admired about her…  and would most like to emulate.

In her early career, she was very influenced by William Carlos Williams. I fancy at times that I can see that influence… not so much in theme and style as in a certain core sensibility, a way of seeing things.

Most of all what shines through in her poetry is her essential “Catholicness” (she converted to Roman Catholicism late in her life). By that I mean, her way of seeing the world is above all sacramental.

I did not begin reading Levertov seriously until I was in my late thirties, probably around the time of her death. It was a Donald Hall essay, I think, that led me to look again at her poetry. I wish I would have been reading her more seriously earlier.

“Aware” is not my favorite Levertov poem… but probably since I have been thinking of mindfulness of late, it was the first one that came to my mind this morning flipping through a volume of her poems. It shows well, I think, the “sacramentalness” of her work and her wonderful command of language.

Enjoy!

Aware
When I found the door
I found the vine leaves
speaking among themselves in abundant
whispers.
My presence made them
hush their green breath,
embarrassed, the way
humans stand up, buttoning their jackets,
acting as if they were leaving anyway, as if
the conversation had ended
just before you arrived.
I liked
the glimpse I had, though,
of their obscure
gestures. I liked the sound
of such private voices. Next time
I’ll move like cautious sunlight, open
the door by fractions, eavesdrop
peacefully.

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Hopkins is, of course, Roman Catholic… the most Roman Catholic of all English poets. His art and vision is rooted in his theology, his language in the singularity of his position as outsider. Like American fiction writer Flannery O’Connor, being the ultimate “outsider” leads Hopkins to heights of artistic and intellectual uniqueness.

In the English speaking world (with the obvious exception of “mad Ireland”) there is, of course, no greater outsideness than being a practicing Roman Catholic. Foibles and intellectual inconsistencies of a thousand kinds can be easily forgiven and overlooked for the most part in the ivory towers and coffee shops of American and English intellectualism, with the exception of this one. Roman Catholicism remains anathema… the unpardonable intellectual and cultural sin.

Even if Hopkins were not such a unique and wonderful poet, I would love him for his status as ultimate outsider, just as I love O’Connor.

I have not posted a poetry review for awhile. A Hopkins poem seems like just the thing.

Enjoy!

Pied Beauty
Glory be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

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On the last Sunday in Advent, “God’s Grandeur” by Hopkins seems like the perfect poem to read as we prepare for the coming birth of the Christ child. But if truth be told, on any day of the week a Hopkins’ poem would no doubt be the perfect poem to read.

Hopkins was a convert to Roman Catholicism. His Roman Catholic faith infuses his poetry in a way that is as unique to English poetry as his famous sprung rhythm is. Combined they make him one of the most interesting poets in the English language. And one of the most difficult.

Hopkins is difficult because he consistently pushes the boundaries of language, metaphor, and thought. He makes your tongue and your mind work. Most of his poems require more than one reading to fully appreciate them. The effort, however, is worth it. His poetry is wonderful.

“God’s Grandeur” in not one of Hopkins’ difficult poems. It is, however, one of his most famous. On a Sunday morning, it’s hymn-like quality seems very apropos.

Enjoy!

God’s Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

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Gerard Manley Hopkins

It is interesting that Gerard Manley Hopkins, the Jesuit, was so intentional in rooting his poetry not in the Latin one would expect… but rather in Old English. That is the power of Hopkins’ poetry, striking language usage rooted in unconverted English.

Here is one of my favorite Hopkins’ poems, “No Worst, There Is None.” Everything that is best and most difficult about Hopkins is here: the clashing consonants, the difficult rhymes, the biblical and theological allusions, the unrepentant faith.

I hope you enjoy.

No Worst, There Is None

O worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief
Woe, wórld-sorrow; on an áge-old anvil wince and sing —
Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked ‘No ling-
ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief.”‘

O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne’er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.

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