Heaven is Real Discussion

My husband and I try to pray Saint Louis Marie de Montfort's Total Consecration to Jesus through Mary.  Some years we do better than others.  

But the language often trips us up, and nearly always sparks a discussion, most often around the absolute certainty of our being able to never do anything good save via God's grace.  It would seem then, the only free acts we have, are to sin, i.e. not cooperate, or to cooperate, and that no virtue should be attributed to the individual for cooperating, since that was the result of God's grace proposing God's will first, and our response to it.  It leads to statements like "we are nothing but worms..." and other such phrases that don't sit well. 

Shouldn't we if we do not merit Heaven by either words or deeds, then be shooting to mold our wills to God's so as to qualify for Purgatory?  the discussion went.  

Should we be worried so much about merit? was another part of the discussion. 

Multiple saints engage in this constant re-joiner of being worthless and useless absent God's will and abundant grace.  Blessed Mother Teresa called herself God's pencil, making herself the passive tool by which God's word could be written, but which could generate nothing on her own. 

But asking to be God's pencil, wasn't that a sign of merit so to speak, of being willing, just as the Blessed Mother said, "Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord."  And so the discussion became, can one claim any part of merit in being good?  

I said no, we do, but no. 
My husband said yes, and that to do otherwise is false humility, we are weighed, measured, our words and our deeds, and given the dose of mercy and justice plus a surplus of love that we dolloped out.  I didn't disagree, but we did still work around those words.  Do we really have to be comfortable saying we're worth less than worthless?  We could cite scripture pro and con, remember thou art dust, and made in God's image.  Both and, a contradiction. 

Then I read the former mayor Bloomberg's article in the New York Times.. 

Mr. Bloomberg was introspective as he spoke, and seemed both restless and wistful. When he sat down for the interview, it was a few days before his 50th college reunion. His mortality has started dawning on him, at 72. And he admitted he was a bit taken aback by how many of his former classmates had been appearing in the “in memoriam” pages of his school newsletter.

But if he senses that he may not have as much time left as he would like, he has little doubt about what would await him at a Judgment Day. Pointing to his work on gun safety, obesity and smoking cessation, he said with a grin: “I am telling you if there is a God, when I get to heaven I’m not stopping to be interviewed. I am heading straight in. I have earned my place in heaven. It’s not even close.”

I called my husband and read him the pull quote.  I am now going to have to work to merit purgatory for gloating online, and for envisioning with no small amount of mischief in my heart, Mayor Bloomberg in Heaven waiting for someone, anyone to interview him. 

Small Success Thursday

It seems all the more important to talk about small successes when we feel like there aren't any.  It reminds us that they are ever visible if we only look.  I didn't want to do this exercise today.  I was tired.  I was frustrated.  We paid our taxes and so I felt tapped out, overworked and discouraged. 

But I've had some dark chocolate.  I've had a visit with a person who has in a short time of helping me with Paul become a good friend and I've rocked out to Pat Benatar's "Heart Breaker" while cleaning out my son's room of lost laundry.  So I'm good.

This week I:

1) Got to see my sister, brother in law, niece, brother, one cousin and my Mom and Dad.  We had four days of rich food and red wine and conversations that weren't rushed. 

2) I read the first 200 pages of a book a friend lent me, Olive Kitteridge.  I'm looking forward to the rest.

3) I exercised two days.  (Gained 3 pounds from rich food over the weekend but it was soooooo worth it).

4) Realized I couldn't do something even though I'd wanted to and said I would, so I backed down and said no.  It doesn't happen very often that I a) recognize I'm over extended b) admit to it c) alter plans because of it. 

5) The house and the laundry is 90% in order.  Not paying attention to the other ten percent. 

6) Still doing Montfort so I'll say the rosary today and I love the luminous mysteries.

7) Six kids made it to swimming lessons Monday.  I was worried about having signed up my daughter who just turned three the day after classes started. My last bout with one so young was a wasted effort where the kid sat on the steps and watched everyone else swim.  He finally went out with the instructor on the last day. 

However, the Sphinx Regina got out of the pool at the end of her session and said, "I love this Mom. Let's do it again!"  Next Monday.

8) Finally, this really made me chuckle.  What I love best is the audience response. 
The Mom Song

The 13th that is the 19th

My daughter turns three today.  She was born on Friday the 13th.  We weren't expecting to have a daughter in our hands for another three weeks.  But then, we weren't expecting an emergency c-section either.  I didn't know I'd even had her until they whisked her by in a blanket, all cleaned up and capped.  It all seemed so unreal.  One minute we were hooked up to the IV and getting that drip that makes contractions come and the next, they flew out of the room with me because her heart had dropped to 25. 

My husband was taken to a side room and given scrubs to change into, but no further instruction.  He waited.  It felt like forever.  He worried for her. He worried for me.  I'd been bleeding and bleeding and bleeding. How long would it take? How bad was it?  Had we already lost her? After seven prior pregnancies, this was still uncharted and dangerous territory. 

Searching both for comfort and something to take away the feeling of time, he took out the Saint Louis Marie de Montfort Total Consecration, a devotion he and I have participated in for the past eight years.   (That's a whole other story).   "Please let her be okay. Please let them be okay." and he asked Mary in particular for protection.

And the reading for the 19th day of this discipline was Jesus and the children. 

"People even brought little children to him, for him to touch them; but when the disciples saw this they turned them away.  But Jesus called the children to him and said, "Let the little children come to me and do not stop them; for it is to such as theese that the kingdom of God belongs.  I tell you solemnly, anyone who does not welcome the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." 

When he had finished reading, the nurse brought him to see me and together, we held and saw her and smelled her sweet new baby smell together for the first time, Regina. Regina Zaiga Rose.

So Friday the 13th became lucky and blessed because she was born, because she survived.  Happy Birthday Gina. (That's what she calls herself).   And today, when she was awakened by a chorus, she smiled with her whole face.  We gave her a crown and a princess gown.

Now that she's properly dressed, we're going to go out to a famous Scottish restaurant for lunch; McDonald's.

Why the Notre Dame/Obama Scandal Matters

My husband and I met at Notre Dame on the third day after we arrived on our respective campuses. After four years of dating while at Notre Dame and Saint Mary’s, and two years of engagement wherein I received a Master’s of Education at Boston College, and my then fiancée attended NYU law school, we were married by the Bishop of Beaumont, Texas, Bishop Bernard Ganter in 1990. Nine children and no small number of Notre Dame T-shirts and sojourns out for games or to visit friends later, we find ourselves looking at a school we no longer recognize as the place that helped preserve our pure spirits, that helped keep youthful desires in check with such quaint restrictions as visiting hours.

Where we once argued against Mario Cuomo and were not scoffed at, now we see a school that seems both hard headed and in part, hard hearted. We do not understand this beautiful place that no longer recognizes the source of its fundamental beauty. When people of good character and deep faith ask how this school (which they know we love), can authentically represent Catholicism, (indeed, Mary in all her glory), if we cannot recognize life at its beginning as being sacred to those who do not believe it, I have no answer.

We will be praying the rosary. We are praying the rosary. We pray for the President to have the scales fall from his eyes and for this most anti-life of all presidents in the history of our country to become like Saint Paul. We pray for Fr. Jenkins and those who stand fast with him on this point. We pray for their hearts to be softened by the weeping and anguish of the faithful who see this as a far more egregious assault on Catholic sensibilities than the erotic pseudo intellectual musings of an artistically contrived lesbian play. The later is self absorbed mental porn packaged as art, the former is a rejection of everything our Lady stands for and everything her life means, for the sake of a photo-op and the bragging rights amongst Universities for hosting the current President of the United States.

The rejection of the timeless for the transitory, of the prayerful for the powerful injures more than just those graduates and families and alumni who may not be entirely thrilled with President Jenkin’s choice. Those who never loved Notre Dame but love the policies of the current President of the United States, seem to find almost perverse glee that the faithful, (who cannot be anything but pro-life), agonize over this once crown jewel of Catholicism falling so far from her truly once upon a time deserving heights. Being the body of Christ, all of the Church, all of us that make up the countless unknown laity that line up for the Eucharist on a weekly basis or more, we suffer each time a Catholic in a position of leadership denies Mary, denies Christ, or denies the authentic reality of each person, by their policies and actions and words.

The University of Notre Dame should mean something. It should embody the beauty of Mary, the humility of Mary, the obedience of Mary, the purity of Mary, the whole dedication to Christ of Mary. It should be a place that creates people of steel and fire, people who know how precious life is, and how important it is to be obedient to God in all things. The University should radiate the essence of Mary in all its policies and in all of its classes, and in every bit of ground.

No one who contemplates this Queen of heaven with a sincere heart, cannot be softened by her witness, by her love, by her life and her instruction. “Do whatever He tells you to do.” This should be the great lesson that all students come to master as a result of their experience at this campus, whether in physics or art or sociology or economics.

The purpose of a Catholic University is not to win accolades or host world leaders or build the largest endowment in the history of man or have the greatest number of federal dollars in grants for its research purposes. The purpose of a Catholic University is to via the craft and art of instruction, through the sense of place and the beauty of minds and persons represented in the faculty and staff, to turn souls towards God while putting before the students, the richest banquet possible of all the best thoughts, practices and experiences available. The purpose of a Catholic University is to pursue the Truth in all things. Modern sensibilities would parse Truth and reduce it to being merely a religious tenet, and that only scholarly truth should be so ruthlessly sought in the academic world.

But Christ tells us clearly, “I am the way and the Truth and the Life.” If we would be Catholic, if Notre Dame would be Catholic, it must know Truth, it must love Truth, and it must pursue Truth over politics, over power, over prestige. And the Truth in this circumstance is humble and small and achingly real in the person of Mary.

Notre Dame Our Mother, Pray for us. And Our Hearts forever, Love Thee Notre Dame.