An Unjust War: The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies // Movie Review

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies was released several weeks ago, so I got to this one late, but I'm afraid not late enough. I should have held out for the video release, if even that. This third and, thankfully, last installment of Peter Jackson's adaptation of The Hobbit is an unnecessary anticlimax, the first fifteen minutes or so of which should have been stuck on to the end of movie two. Five Armies resolves the heart of the story rather quickly, then meanders for another two hours rehashing themes from the earlier movies without really developing them any further.

Not having read the book I'm not sure how much this battle between the five armies (though I could only count four) really mattered to the resolution of the story. I always understood that the dragon attack on Laketown was the story's climactic event, and if not, it should have been for the sake of the movie. Everything in the first two films leads us to this encounter, and after that is resolved (rather quickly) the rest of the action, and there is plenty of action, seems tacked on.

Briefly, Five Armies takes up exactly where last year's The Desolation of Smaug leaves off; with Smaug the Dragon flying out of the mountain to get his revenge of Laketown. I'm not sure it's a spoiler to mention that after his attack our not so friendly neighborhood dragon leaves the story and the dwarfs get their mountain back. But Thorin the would be dwarf king, unsatisfied with the positive turn of events, is obsessed with hoarding the mountain city's vast stores of gold and jewels, as well as getting possession of a magical stone that will legitimize his claim to the throne. The human inhabitants of Laketown assemble in battle formation, wanting their promised cut for helping the dwarfs, along with an army of elves who want the return of precious jewels that are a part of their heritage. This standoff is ended, and foes become allies when an army of evil orcs descends to take the treasure for themselves.

My guess is that, at this late date, if you are a true believer you've seen Five Armies already, and nothing I write will change your mind about the film one way or the other. And this is not a bad movie, per say. But I see a justice issue with this film that out weighs any of the production's artistic merits or lack there of. I understand that Hollywood is in business to make money, and that sequels represent a sure fire way for doing just that. Adapting books for the screen has long been a Tinseltown staple because, as the thinking goes, a built in audience is ready to buy tickets before the film is even made. With the rise of young adult novel series like Twilight and the Hunger Games we have a perfect storm of adapting known commodities coupled with the promise of sequels along the way. But lately we have seen studios milking the practice, turning trilogies into four part series, and in this case making three movies out of one, relatively sort, novel. Much like the latest Hunger Games from a couple of months ago, this had nothing to do with director Peter Jackson having more to say, or some great themes of J.R.R. Tolkien that needed to be translated to the screen to complete the journey. This was about making money, and bilking the public, fan boys in particular, pure and simple. I do not begrudge anyone making a buck, as long as it's an honest one, and Thorin is not the only one here afflicted with dragon sickness, its main symptom being greed.

Robert Barron: Mark's Gospel and the Victory of God

Back on the first Sunday of Advent we began a new liturgical year. Basically it means we begin again, starting with Christ's incarnation, our yearly meditation on the mysteries of the faith. After Christmas Time, we will have a brief period of Ordinary time before entering into Lent. We do this every year, but the big difference will be that we move from hearing Matthew's Gospel on most Sundays to getting readings from Mark. There are exceptions, like today, the Feast of the Holy Family, we heard from Luke, and in Lent and Easter we will hear a lot from John. But for most of 2015 we will be working our way through the Second Gospel. Here Fr. Robert Barron gives a rather detailed analysis of the first words of the Gospel of Mark, and why they are so radical.

Darlene Love: "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" 2014 - David Letterman

God is With Us: Apostleship of Prayer

Angels We Have Heard on High

The Kinks - Father Christmas (AKA Occupy North Pole)

Dean Martin - Silver Bells

JUDY GARLAND: 'MEET ME IN ST LOUIS'. 'HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRIS...

Bing Crosby & David Bowie - The Little Drummer Boy / Peace On Earth

What's So Difficult About Believing in the Virgin Birth?

I grew up Catholic. I grew up with a manger scenes in the house at Christmas time. I grew up hearing the story of the Annunciation from Luke and the account of Jesus' birth from Matthew, and never questioned it. It's true that my credulity had as much to do with my natural childhood innocence as with any supernatural virtue of faith that I may have had. But even after finding out about the birds and the bees, Jesus' origin story never gave me pause to question.

I was into adulthood before I found out that there are many people who find the Virgin Birth troublesome. Some are total skeptics, but others believe in the Resurrection, in the miracles, and even call Jesus Lord and God. But that Jesus was conceived outside the regular way is a bridge too far. I have to be honest, I don't understand the doubts. The skeptics or the atheists I get. They've drunk a different kind of Kool-Aid, so there's a certain period of intellectual detox that they need to go through before we can even get to discussing something like the Virgin Birth. But that some accept the other mysteries of Jesus' life and reject the Virgin Birth is a total non sequitur to me. I think part of the problem is that many people take the event of Jesus' conception in isolation when it needs to be seen in light of the reason Jesus, the eternal Word of God, took flesh in the womb of the Virgin to begin with.

Everything needs to start with the Paschal Mystery. That Jesus died and rose again is the core of our Faith. It is the reason that 10 of the 11 surviving Apostles suffered martyrdom, and John suffered torture and exile. Countless others suffered the same fate in the first decades and centuries for their refusal to deny that Jesus is risen, like the first 11. No one died, that I know of, for refusing to denounce the Virgin Birth. But whether we're discussing this doctrine, or the veracity of the miracle accounts or the belief in the True Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, we always have to see these things in light of Jesus' dying and rising. If we believe that Jesus rose from the dead, then other supernatural claims we make about him shouldn't be difficult to accept, or at the very least shouldn't be dismissed as impossible.

The Resurrection is the ultimate validation that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God. Whatever other things he did, they were building to that moment when the fullness of the Kingdom was revealed: a Kingdom where illness is unknown, where the power of Satan is banished, where death is defeated. And it is a Kingdom where life is unending. All this is made possible because Jesus, who was sinless, came and stood with sinners, even dying in their place, to make our Redemption possible. Could an ordinary human person have accomplish this? Even one who is blessed by God in a special way? No. Jesus' claims to have existed "before Abraham was," or that he shared in the glory of the Father "before the world began" preclude that Jesus was an ordinary man, or even a special man. This all points to Jesus as a divine person. So if we believe these claims of Jesus, then the idea that he came into the world in an ordinary, natural fashion is harder to believe than the Virgin Birth.

So, I continue to have no problem with the Virgin Birth. I have no problem with it because, from how I see it, it isn't only possible, it is essential when we take all the claims that Jesus and his followers made concerning him. If this was the only extraordinary claim made about Jesus, then the idea that Jesus was miraculously conceived would be a stretch. But taken together it makes perfect sense.

Our Lady of Guadalupe 2014

One of the great things about being a priest and being forced, in a way, to constantly reflect upon the Word of God in relation to the liturgical times of year is that new levels of meaning become apparent over time. It's not necessarily a yearly unfolding, but I can say that my preaching this Advent is very different than it was, lets say, ten or even five years ago. This year I have noticed a clear shift in my homilies, though. I've become much more focused on the eschatological meaning of these weeks than previously. I won't go into the whys right now, but it's just to say that "it is what it is." My preaching is a reflection of my prayer life, and this is where the Spirit is moving me. I will go as far as to say that I don't have any strong feeling that we have entered the "End Times." But I do believe that this has been a neglected topic, one that many Catholics have been content to let our Evangelical brothers and sisters tackle, much to our detriment and confusion for those who are only hearing that perspective and think it's authoritative for all Christianity (which it isn't). Again, a topic for another day.

Today is the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and serving a predominantly Mexican immigrant community, it's kind of a big deal. We had several pilgrimages leave from parish last evening, heading to a shrine about 15 miles away for a special Mass with Archbishop Cupich, returning between two and 3 in the morning. Then the traditional Mañanitas at 4:30 A.M., complete with mariachi's, and Mass at 6. Tonight we'll have the Rosary, with more mariachi singing starting at 5, with Mass, and the blessing of the roses at 7pm.

I don't mention all this to boast about how busy we are here at Bosco (O.K., maybe just a little). The main point is that with this major Marian feast, along with the Immaculate Conception on the 8th, it can be easy for Advent to get lost a bit. But I would say that actually this feast fits in just fine, especially when this theme of the End Times is taken into account. .

The Blessed Mother appeared to Juan Diego at the very moment that his society had experienced an apocalypse. Only twelve years previously the Spanish had arrived in what we call today Mexico City, and nothing was ever to be the same. Their religion, culture, economy and governance were replaced in an instant. But the indigenous peoples didn't now how to take this new religion. Sure, there was no more human sacrifice, but the Spanish conquistadors weren't exactly kind and gentle. Mary came with a message of hope for Juan Diego, who had already become Christian, and for all the people. They had experienced great change, revolutionary change in the deepest sense of the word, but they were not to worry. She was their mother, and she was bringing them Jesus Christ. The God who gives us His blood so that we may have life, as opposed to their old gods who craved human blood to keep themselves appeased.

We are in a time of transition as well. We should not expect that social orders or political institutions will last forever, not even our own. We shouldn't be surprised if in the decades, or even years ahead, epoch changing events take place. But the message of Our Lady at Tepeyac is the same: she is our Mother who loves us, who protects sum who guides us. She brings us her Son, who will make all things new, and indeed already has. While we await his coming in glory, we should not despair if there are ups, down, progress and reversals along the way. All history is moving toward one goal: the fullness of life in Jesus Christ.

Word on Fire in Mexico: At Our Lady of Guadalupe

Our Lady Guadalupe as Star of the new Evangelization from AOP

A Detailed Study of Our Lady of Guadalupe by Fr. Luis Fernando Castañeda Monter

These are rather comprehensive conferences on the story and science of the miraculous image of Our Lady of Guadalupe.  These are rather long talks (I usually try to only post short clips of no more than ten minutes), but these are worth the time. These talks explain the cultural and religious background of the Aztecs and how the image fits with that.

What was most impressive to me is Fr. Castañeda explaining the symbols on Our Lady´s dress and mantle and how she used religious and cultural symbols familiar to the indigenous peoples to evangelize and catechize.  The Spaniards thought that there were "mistakes" on the image, because the symbols were so foreign to their way of thinking.  As Fr. Castañeda keeps on saying, God makes no mistakes, and the Blessed Mother makes it clear that she herself is human, but is greater than the Aztec's most powerful god.  She is sent from heaven, but walks the earth to bring the the all powerful God to them, of whom she is mother.  She is our mother too, and wants to bring her us "the one true God for whom all people live."  May our hearts be open to this great grace.

Just as a note: Fr. Castañeda makes some statements concerning cultural anthropology that may or may not be accurate.  For instance at one point he says that all Native American groups practiced human sacrifice.  I'm assuming he means the indigenous groups of Mexico and Central America.  I'm not sure even that would be true, but I never heard of Sioux or Cherokees engaging in sacrifices of the kind the Aztecs did.  Plus, I'm pretty sure that by the time of Columbus the majority of educated Europeans understood the Earth to be round.  Some certainly still held to a belief that the Earth was flat, but science had progressed enough for people to figure it out.   

These are quibbles though.  This is a very fascinating study.  Enjoy!

Fr. Barron visits Lourdes: Mary, the Immaculate Conception

Pope Francis explains the Immaculate Conception from Catholic News Service

Pope Francis, Cardinal George, Advent and the End Times

Robert Hugh Benson

Cardinal Francis George, who just stepped down three weeks ago as Archbishop of Chicago, had an interview with Crux's John Allen published the day before he left office that made some headlines. While he's been long respected for his coverage of the Vatican by figures on both sides of the ideological divide, it is in this age of Pope Francis that Allen has emerged as the go to American Catholic journalist (this fact alone drew attention to the piece). It's a far reaching interview that covers many topics including George's reputation as a "culture warrior," (which he rejects), and whether the appointment of Archbishop Blase Cupich, a perceived moderate, to replace him is a "course correction" or "repudiation" of his legacy (notions he also rejects, but with caveats).  He also seeks to clarify a now legendary statement about a future persecution of the Church that he said was taken out of context. Most of the attention drawn by the interview focused on his desire for a heart to heart with the Holy Father over perceived ambiguities in the pontiff's statements. The Archbishop Emeritus doesn't question the pope's orthodoxy or intentions, just that he feels that his off the cuff comments have left many in the hierarchy, and in the grass roots, wondering what exactly is expected of them.

But what got my attention was Cardinal George's exploration of the pope's fascination with the end times. He points out that one of the pope's favorite books is The Lord of the World, a novel written in 1907 by an English priest Robert Hugh Benson. In it Benson, the son of an Archbishop of Canterbury who converted to Catholicism, looks ahead a hundred years and envisions a secularized, socialist one world order. (I'm reading it myself right now, and while it gets details wrong, the big picture of a radically secularized West threatened by the rise of "Eastern" religious movements, and a stubborn Catholic Church that won't go away is uncanny). Cardinal George admits to his own interest in eschatology, and finds the pope's references to this novel, in particular, and the end of the world, in general, fascinating. Is Pope Francis moving so fast because he believes that we are living in the final age before the great confrontation between Christ and anti-Christ?

My interest in The Lord of the World stems from the fact that I've seen it referenced in several articles about the Holy Father lately, which might come as a surprise considering the eccentricity of the book. The general perception is that Francis is a social justice pope, which he is, but I would argue not in the vein most think. As I've written many times in this space, the great tragedy of contemporary Catholicism is this artificial divide created between orthodoxy (right belief) and ortho-praxis (right action), as if one is more important than the other. Francis' genius is that he can talk about the plight of the poor and the need to reform unjust political and economic structures, but also say that Satan is working behind the scenes of this injustice (and not mean this in some ironic or figurative way). Yes, he wants us to give alms, but he also talks about getting the unemployed, especially teenagers who need work, proper jobs (not something I usually hear my progressive brothers and sisters talk about). He's a man who prays two hours a day the first thing in the morning, and also works to alleviate the suffering of the poor and marginalized. He will criticize those who put abstract ideas and complex theology ahead of serving people's needs (something "conservatives" are usually accused of), but has traditional minded cardinals as the heads of the congregations for the Doctrine of the Faith and Divine Worship. Even Cardinal Burke's replacement is said to be a by the book prelate, in spite of the talk of a traditionalist purge in the Vatican. My point being is that Francis can't be pigeonholed, and the idea that a very down to earth, practical, socially conscious pope is also looking to the skies for the return of Christ in His glory shouldn't shock us.

What does all this have to do with Advent, you might be asking about now.

Amid the Black Fridays and Cyber Mondays, premature Christmas decorating at shopping malls and endless loops of "Jingle Bell Rock" on the radio, we can forget that these first weeks of Advent are meant to focus us on Jesus' second coming. In CCD as children (showing my age, I know), we were told that Advent was the four weeks of preparation for Christmas (which it is). You might have been told that we were preparing to "receive" Jesus, or getting ready for his "arrival." But things were kept somewhat vague as to what this meant. This could be interpreted in a spirtiualized way (i.e. making room for Jesus in our heart), or in a more concrete way (going to confession so you could receive Holy Communion with a clear conscience). But rarely, if ever, did I hear the escatological significance of this liturgical time of year explained. Maybe it was because they thought we couldn't handle it, or maybe it was the '70's and '80's tendency away from teaching doctrine, but we simply weren't educated to this aspect of Advent's significance, at least not in any pronounced way.

When in last week's Sunday Gospel reading (November 30) Jesus tells us to "be alert," it's a warning. We don't know when He will return, so the need to be vigilant in prayer. This past Sunday Peter tells us that the heavens and earth will be destroyed by fire and the elements melted. All the physical world around us will not so much be destroyed as transformed. So the need to distinguish between what is lasting and what is passing, holding firm to the true and eternal.

When this end will come is a mystery. To paraphrase Malcolm X, those who say that they know don't, and those who might have an inkling wouldn't dare say. While I hold Pope Francis is high esteem, I'm not saying he has some special private revelation about these things. As many saints have said, every age is permitted to think theirs is the final age so that they will remain vigilant, firm in the faith. So, he is reading the signs of the times, bringing it to prayer, and acting in accordance with how the Spirit is moving him.

Whether we are entering in to the final stages before the Second Coming or on the verge of a change of historical epoch (which is my belief), we are being called to be vigilant, united in prayer and charity. We shouldn't get caught up in politics, of the church variety or otherwise. We shouldn't get so caught up with the material preparations for the holidays that we lose sight of the deeper meaning of this time. It is a time to prepare for something greater than the anniversary of a birth, it is a time to be made ready to truly meet our Lord in his glory.

A Girl from Nazareth: On the Immaculate Conception from AOP

A Time of Preparation from AOL

The Revolution Will Most Certainly Be Televised: The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part 1

Continuing my yearly duty of screening the latest installment of the Hunger Games franchise, I have for you my take on part one of the adaptation of the third book in the series (are you following me, or am I going too fast for you?): The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part 1. And this really does feel like a chore right now, to the point I regret seeing the first movie two years ago, thus locking my self into seeing the series through.

And while I had reservations about the violence and general theme of that film, considering its target audience is made up of teenagers and middle schoolers, I couldn't deny that it was gripping entertainment that actually had some ideas behind it. I remember next to nothing about the second movie, but going back and re-reading my review I see that I liked it. I'm guessing that my lack of memory has less to do with the ravages of old age as it does with the fact that the themes established in the first movie weren't really expanded on, and the story itself not moved ahead as far as the movie makers would want you to think. This third film does add some new thematic wrinkles, but in the attempt to make an extra billion or two, the splitting of the last story into two parts made the action drag a bit, and in the end it seemed like a series of events strung together as opposed to a real driving narrative. In other words, we are again faced with moving only a short distance after a time consuming journey.

Mockingjay, Part 1 picks up shortly after Katniss Everdeen (again played by Jennifer Lawrence) was plucked out of the Games by the rebel forces. She's been brought to District 13, once thought destroyed, but living on in a huge underground bunker complex. Not only does District 13 exist, but it is the hub of the resistance, complete with a rather sophisticated military, considering the situation, and a functioning government complete with a president (Julianne Moore). The late Philip Seymour Hoffman returns as Plutarch Heavensbee, a sort of media consultant / propaganda minister who sets Katniss up to be the face of the rebellion. (the two parts of the film were shot together, so Hoffman appears in both movies, even though he died before principle photography was wrapped up. Some key scenes he was supposed to be in were rewritten putting other characters in his place). Katniss is  resistant to taking on this role at first, but does so after the rebel president agrees to rescue the other surviving tributes from the Capitol, including her partner Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), and grants him, in particular, a pardon for his role in Panem's own propaganda campaign. (Liam Hemsworth also returns as the third corner of the seemingly obligatory YA fiction love triangle)

I started out "with" the movie, but my commitment to it slowly waned as the film dragged on, and I began to question the validity of the message. In Mockingjay we are finally out of the game, and the revolution is on, and it is televised. We are in District 13 and it stands in stark contrast with the opulent Capitol. The conditions are harsh: there are heavy restrictions on what people can possess, there is a strict prohibition on alcohol, everyone wears the same bland dark grey clothing that wouldn't be out of place in Mao's China. And I guess that's what struck me. Both the Capitol and District 13 are heavily regulated, controlled societies. The Capitol keeps the districts of Panem in check by a combination of bread and circuses and using the Hunger Games to ferment animosity between the districts and loyalty to the central government. District 13 maintains a dedicated, spartan populace with promises of a better, democratic future, free of the present tyranny.

But both sides use propaganda and manipulation to promote their cause. Of course District 13's is based on the effective packaging of the truth, while Panem's is pure lies. I still had a nagging feeling throughout the film, though, that neither side was terribly admirable, or at least deserved to be portrayed as such. I understand that we are dealing with a post apocalyptic fantasy, and one geared at younger end teenagers, but the actors are of a caliber (series regulars including Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Banks and Donald Sutherland are joined by newcomer Jeffery Wright), the presentation so plain, that I couldn't help but think that they're glossing over a basic truth: for District 13 to maintain this high level of disciplined austerity and unity of purpose among its populace it would have to be just as oppressive as Panem.

There is a lot of suspension of disbelief I had to engage in, and I did it happily. I'm mainly thinking of my wonderment at how these rag tag rebels living in a subterranean concrete shaft feed their people, maintain an impressive military industrial complex and manage a rather sophisticated telecommunications system. The electrical power alone would seem impossible to supply. But it is this point that I find hard to get around - that one side appears to my eyes to be the photographic negative of the other; District 13 may be devoid of color and shade, but it is just as manipulative and controlling as their adversary, and portraying it as a benign dictatorship ready to give up that control once the revolution is over is a little more than I can buy.

As for the movie itself, it runs a little over two hours, and begins to feel it about half way through. I thought the first part moved fairly well, but then I realized that the story wasn't going anywhere. They found a way to fill the time, but most of it doesn't seem to matter. A rescue mission, that seems tacked on, becomes the climactic episode, pulling a very faint thread of plot from earlier in the movie. The result of the mission gives the movie a convenient place to finish up and still keep us wondering about what will come next, but after all that time I felt no farther ahead in the story than I was at the end of the second movie (or even the first, for that matter).

There has been a lot of criticism that stretching this series into four movies renders this one a bit moot. I got the feeling that both middle movies are a tad superfluous, supplying a lot of sound a fury while moving the plot along just a smidgen. We could have gotten to where we are much more efficiently if they had edited together half of number 2 with half of this third installment. Or, just do the logical thing and make three movies from the three books. But then that would mean passing on an extra billion in worldwide receipts, and who wants to do that?

Going Nowhere, Not Nearly Fast Enough: "Interstellar" // Movie Review

About a year ago I was pleasantly surprised by the Sandra Bullock, George Clooney space adventure Gravity. I had seen the adverts, read and heard the reviews and was convinced that it couldn't possibly live up to the hype: I was wrong. This week I went to see Interstellar: the Christopher Nolan directed sic-fi space adventure, skeptical that this was just a Gravity knock-off, but walked in open to the prospect of being surprised, considering last year's turnabout.

All I can say is, this is no knockoff of last year's hit (at least not in its totality), but it certainly isn't worth the hype.

I must be up front: I'm not a big Christopher Nolan fan. He's certainly a great action director but, to paraphrase Orson Welles, he likes to come off like a big thinker, which really must be stopped. I thought 2010's Inception was a pretentious fraud: a fun popcorn movie masquerading as existential psycho drama. I liked the Dark Night, the middle movie of Nolan's Batman trilogy, but thought the other two, especially the finale, were depressingly nihilistic. What made the Dark Knight Rises even worse is that he stuck on a happy ending to the doom and apocalyptic gloom.

In the case of Interstellar all signs point to a transcendent reality helping our heroes along, explained away using "reason" in a manner that takes more faith to accept than it does to believe in God.

The plot is very complicated, but at the heart of it the earth, in some not so distant future, is experiencing droughts and blights that are one by one killing all the main agricultural food staples. Corn is the only thing left. After that goes, so goes humanity. Matthew McConaughey plays a former astronaut turned farmer mysteriously drawn, through his daughter, to a secret NASA base. To make a very long and convoluted story short, his mission is to enter into a black hole that mysteriously appeared next to Saturn, following other secret missions that went before. Once on the other side he and his crew are to scout potential planets these previous missions had identified as being potentially habitable, selecting the one that gives humanity the best chance to start over.

There are all sorts of games played with the time space continuum, so that people on earth age faster than those on other planets and solar systems. The science gets fuzzy, as well as the logic, which I wouldn't care about if it didn't make so much of a difference to how the story wraps up. If Inception's problem was that it treated the dream world with far too much concrete linear certainty, here it's that the natural world is treated with the disjointed logic of a dream, and this strategy works no better than the first.

Plus, it takes a long time, over two hours, to get where it's going. I have nothing against long movies, but Nolan, with co-writer (and brother) Jonathan set up a plot so complicated it demanded at least an extra half hour then it probably should have get it all untangled and the loose ends tied off. Even then, it all doesn't fit. Again, I have no problem suspending disbelief in films like this, but not when so much is riding on the science part of the fiction, to the exclusion of a non-scientific explanation for anything.

As I wrote earlier, a recurring point made throughout the story is that so many events seemed to be pre-planned by an unseen agent. The black hole seemed to be placed in just the right place at just the right time. McConaughey's daughter believes that they were given clues to the base's location by ghosts. The scientists talk of the previous missions being led to their destinations by "them," whoever "they" are. McConaughey refuses to believe any of this, stating that if a phenomenon is unexplainable it's just that science hasn't figured it out yet, but it will in time (a very common atheist/skeptic argument when faced with mysteries that defy human reason). There is no explicit rejection of God or the spiritual, but it is clearly implied by how the story wraps up.

I will have more to say about this point soon, because I think a treatment of Interstellar's metaphysics deserves a separate treatment. But I'll leave it at this: I loved the cast, including John Lithgow, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain, Michael Caine, and a slew of cameos and stunt casting that would be a spoiler to reveal. The special effects are jaw dropping for their realism (the budget was a reported 165 million dollars, and every penny of it is on the screen). Some have criticized Nolan for being emotionally detached, but I thought the human characters were drawn as well as one could expect from a sci-fi action adventure. I believed the relationship between McConaughey and his young daughter played effectively by 14 year old Mackenzie Foy, though this probably has more to do with the actors then the script.

I could say these same things about any of the other Christopher Nolan films I've seen: Good actors who elevate the material and mind blowing special effects. But what's missing, now as always, is a soul. For all the black holes and distant worlds, we are still in a closed universe that we are the center of. In short, Interstellar is nothing more than feel good nihilism.

But more on that next time.

Poppies to Keep Us Awake

The World War I Poppy Memorial at the Tower of London

For us here in the United States the 11th of November is Veteran's Day; a moment to say thank you to the men and women who have served in the armed forces, and increasingly to recognize those still serving in uniform. But we have lost the reason why this day is different from all other days, so to speak. Today is the 96th anniversary of the ceasefire agreement on the Western front during World War I, and until 1954 we observed it as Armistice Day to reflect that connection. Even as child, long after Veterans Day supplanted the previous holiday, I can recall church bells ringing at 11am, a faint echo of remembrance that the fighting ended at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918. Here in the States this fact is lost on many people. But in Canada and England the observances still focus on this singular event.

And for good reason. England alone lost upwards of a million people, both military and civilian due to battle, war crimes and disease. Those young adults who were killed, as well as those who survived the experience are often called the Lost Generation. There was mourning for lives that never reached maturity as well for those who were able to carry on but had lost a sense of purpose and meaning in life. We have short memories on this side of the Pond, but even a hundred years after the war began the people of the United Kingdom, and much of the Commonwealth, are still enveloped with a pall of sadness over the destruction, both human and cultural, that resulted from the conflict.

But there was another casualty of World War I. If the Faith is dead, or at least dormant, in Europe today it is due to a great degree to the war. A profound existential doubt hit Western Culture over the years of 1914 to1918, and then was solidified by World War II resulting in people losing faith that there is a providential God who loves and guides human progress. If God is all loving why would he permit such suffering and destruction? What is the purpose of being born if life can be taken so swiftly and senselessly? Where is God in all this? For many, no satisfactory answer was found, so the churches emptied and the culture became increasingly secular. But does this reaction make sense?

While questioning one's faith in the face of calamity is more than understandable, in the particular case of the Great War, I would argue that it, along with World War II, were not religiously motivated conflicts, but came after periods of increased secularization and optimism in the ability of human progress to shape a bright, prosperous and peaceful future. In the second half of the previous century Germany, France and Italy had all undergone Church - State conflicts that saw the place of religious institution is public life greatly limited (some would call it a persecution). We can see here the beginnings of later totalitarianism in which the state claimed complete control over the loyalty and even wills of the people. Nietzsche saw that religion was on the retreat as a relevant cultural and social force, proclaiming the God was dead, and that it was our indifference that had "killed" Him.  The late 19th and early 20th century saw an explosion of world's fairs and exhibitions where the latest scientific and technological advancements were put on display. While many of the items being shown off were the latest turbines or industrial machines, there were also plenty of artillery pieces and other armaments. The industrial revolution had given birth to modern warfare and killing could be done wholesale.

World War I was the time when all the technology, all the political strategy and all the secular notions of progress were put into practice. Our faith was no longer in a providential God who needed to be obeyed, but in science and technology's ability to shape and manipulate nature and the state which would guide and control our lives from cradle to grave. The guiding principle was enlightened human reason's ability to control it all. If World War I was a failure it was in humanity's ability to shepherd itself.

The failure of the churches during this time was that they tended to go along with the notion, even implicetly, of boundless human progress, and in surrendering to nationalism that was the great tool used to stir up hate between the nations. Priests, bishops, ministers and preachers helped promote the war effort, and were really dupes. Yes, there were voices like Pope Benedict XV calling for peace and reconciliation between peoples, but far too many churchmen, both Catholic and Protestant, were preaching "praise the Lord and pass the ammunition."

The church, in the broad sense of the word, has learned from this experience. While not nearly all religious people are pacifists, I do believe that most know that war is not to be glorified and the men and women who served need to be cared for, and not shepherded to their deaths on behalf of blind nationalism. We also know, I hope, the difference between patriotism and nationalism; one being a love of country and the other a love of the state (maybe a discussion for another day).

But otherwise the broader culture has doubled down on stupid. We still believe that science, technology and government are our saviors, in spite of the 20th Century's atomic bombs, gulags and genocides, which used man made tools meant to save us rather to destroy and dominate. Some may point to Islamic terrorism as a sign of how religion motivates wars and conflict, but if we look closely can anyone honestly say that ISIS is motivated by faith, or is religion being used as an excuse for political conquest? Again, a discussion for another day.

The people of England still mourn a century later. There is a temporary memorial made up of clay poppies filling the moat of the Tower of London; one for each life lost by that country. The public out pouring as been overwhelming, with thousands of people coming to visit the site everyday for the past several months. Poppies are usually associated with opium, sleep and forgetfulness. Here they are meant to keep us awake and remembering. But what we remember is important. As Christians we need to remember that we are at the service of the One Lord, Jesus Christ, and while we love our country, we are not slaves of the state. For the entire culture science, technology and sound government are tools that are not goods in and of themselves, but need to be guided by deeper principles rooted in faith, or else all manner of atrocity is possible.

While the memorial's reference to the blood spilled in the poppy fields of Belgium is obvious, the way they appear to be cascading out of a window of the Tower is reminiscent of the blood flowing from our Saviour's wounded side. England, Europe and all Western Civilization suffered a passion in the 20th Century. I pray that we may all soon experience a resurrection of the Faith.

Fr. Robert Barron on John Henry Newman and the Development of Doctrine

Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox

I was recently introduced to the musical ensemble Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox (PMJ), by way of a You Tube video of one of their more popular offerings: a jazzified version of the Meghan Trainor hit All About That Bass. Band leader, arranger and pianist Scott Bradlee's premise is simple: take current pop hits and re-imagine them in various pop genres of the past century. And for the most part it works extraordinarily well. PMJ's offerings make two things abundantly clear: first, that pop music, no matter the era, is incredibly elastic and adaptable (Bradlee's observation). The second is that your average pop star today isn't very talented, or more to the point, there are incredibly talented musicians and singers out there who never get a chance because the music industry is more about style, spectacle and shock, and not so much about music.

Yes, the idea of post modernism does play a part here: there is a clear ironic twist to the proceedings. When Jason Derulo's Talk Dirty is redone as a Jewish, Fiddler on the Roof style folk song you know that you're not supposed to take it all too seriously. PMJ's collaborations with cabaret singer Puddles the Clown (Michael Geier) are the height of genre bending bordering on parody. Their version of Lorde's Royals, is superior to the original in terms of arrangement, phrasing and overall emotional punch. But in the video, done in PMJ's minimalist, one camera format (until recently taped in Bradlee's bare white living room), Puddles gently mugs and gestures, indicating a disconnect between his rich and expressive baritone and his "this is a big put on" demeanor (as if performing in full sad clown suit and make up isn't the first hint).

In a way it's too bad, because these guys and gals are really talented. Robin Adele Anderson, Cristina Gatti and Ashley Stroud, regulars who rotate on vocals, all have great voices and know how to work a song. PMJ also features a wide variety of guest musicians and vocalists. Kate Davis, who sings and plays the upright bass on I'm All About That Bass, takes an over glorified novelty song and offers a playful, nuanced performance. In doing so she and Bradlee transform something base and obvious into something sly and almost innocent. A New Orleans Jazz version of the Guns 'N' Roses rocker Sweet Child O' Mine, sung by Miche Branden captures the bombast of the original, with textured horns and vocals, that once again, bring out emotions beyond what the contemporary Pop-Rock genres are capable of. PMJ mine what are too often vacuous lyrics for all their emotional worth, making the words sound like they mean more than they really do. I get it, that's the point: but like with Puddles the Clown, their talent raises these performances above mere parody, making me wonder what they could do with more worthy material.

I could go on, but it's better to listen to this original, fun and impossibly entertaining musical conglomeration.

The Sun Will Melt Your Wings: Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) // Movie Review

Let me get my criticism of Birdman out of the way right off the bat.

There's a scene early where Riggan Thompson (Michael Keaton), a faded action movie star trying to reinvent himself as a serious stage actor, is exchanging dialogue with the vastly more experienced theater actor Mike Shiner (Edward Norton). Shiner is brought in to work on the Broadway production at the last moment after a piece of lighting falls on one of the players during rehearsals (symbolic of the problems plaguing the production thus far). Shiner knows the script because he had helped coach his girlfriend (Naomi Watts) who is in the play and suggested him for the role. When Riggan feeds him a line, Shiner stops him, pointing out that he had just said the same thing in about five different ways. Why not cut out the repetition? Make is punchy, make it blunt, say it once.

Oh, if only director Alejandro Gonzalez Iñarritu and his veritable army of co-writers had followed their own advice. We are repeatedly hit over the head by on the nose dialogue about the pressure Riggan Thompson is under that it assumes the audience isn't smart enough to figure that out by what's going on on the screen. And what's going on on the screen is spectacular, and outweighs any reservations I might have about the script itself, which alternates between slyly wicked and obvious.

The movie begins with the play within a movie ready to go into previews and the production already in shambles as well as in debt. The a fore mentioned Riggan Thompson is still trying to run away from the shadow of the hugely popular superhero franchise he quit back in the early '90's. But now that he's hitting sixty he finds himself  irrelevant in a new world of social media and viral videos. In an attempt to do something meaningful he adapts a short story by Raymond Carver, writing, directing, producing and staring in the project. Along with the felled, now litigious co-star, he's dealing with a hostile daughter just out of rehab (Emma Stone), an insecure leading lady (Watts), a girlfriend who may be pregnant, and also has eyes for the leading lady (Andrea Riseborough), as well as the Norton character who is volatile, abrasive and self serving. As if his friends weren't enemy enough, there's a hell on wheels New York Times theater critic determined to close the play on opening night with her pen (Lindsay Duncan). The only one keeping him sane (barely) is his lawyer played by Zach Galifianakis.

As you can tell, there are a lot of characters to keep track of, but each suffers from an underlying crisis of meaning in life and the emotional insecurity it brings with it. At the same time the movie doesn't accept that their angst is necessarily well earned. When Norton confronts the Stone character on why she's so hostile toward her father she talks about how he was always away during her childhood and later tried to make up for it by making her feel special. Norton responds with a shrug, as if to say, "And? That's it?" As for Norton, he's a cocky loose cannon and readily admits that he really doesn't care if people like him or not, yet he only feels completely self assured on stage. In fact when it comes to his love life the stage is the only place he's ready to perform, much to the horror / frustration of his girlfriend-co-star (you'll just have to see the movie to know what I mean).

As for Michael Keaton's Riggan, there are obvious parallels to his real life association to the Batman franchise, though in 1989 Keaton was a serious actor who took heat for donning the cape and mask from fan boys who didn't think he has action star enough. Here his character tries to prove his artistic theater cred amid reporters who would rather talk about rumors of unorthodox anti aging injections and a possible reprise of his Birdman role. He's a man who is trying to pursue an artistic vision in a world that has stopped caring about art, thus forcing the question if the project really matters at all. The one person in the movie who does care about such things is the Times critic who can't get past the fact that Riggan is a "movie star" who only got to book the theater because of his celebrity, thus robbing a more worthy playwright an opportunity to shine.

Amidst the egos, pratfalls, self destruction, and bizzare twists of fate Riggan barely keeps it together. He hears the voice of Birdman and experiences episodes of magical realism that are obviously going on in his head. Or are they? He reaches rock bottom the night of the last preview when he realizes that the critic has already decided what she thinks, leaving us to wonder if he can pull this mess of a play together in time for opening night. The ending is telegraphed, which was frustrating at first, but they give it enough of a humorously ambiguous twist to keep it from being completely predictable, and staying true to the film's dark yet comic tone.

Like the project that our antihero is pursuing, Birdman is ambitious. It is critiquing our vacuous, celebrity gossip driven, entertainment obsessed times, while also exploring the nature of intimate relationships and the meaning of life. Along with very introspective scenes of dialogue, both internal and external, there is sweeping camera work, and even a touch of CGI action fantasy thrown in for good measure. Iñarritu utilizes long takes and impressive tracking shots that allow scened to develop and meld into each other. While my criticism of the script itself still holds, and it could have been about 15 or twenty minutes shorter, Birdman offered me something alien to too many of my recent movie going experiences: a sense that I was being challenged.

Holy Heroes from AOP

St. Louis Guanella

St. Louis Guanella, whose feast day was yesterday, knew Don Bosco and was for a short time a member of the Salesian Society. The call of the Lord lead him out of the congregation to dedicate his life to working wit the developmentally challenged. He is an example to our call to recognize the presence of God in all people, especially in those the "world" counts as weak, or even useless. Here's a reflection on his life and work from the Apostleship of Prayer.

A Virgin Sings "Like A Virgin": What's So Strange About That?

Ecstasy of St. Teresa, Bernini

I've never commented on the phenomena that is Sr. Cristina Scuccia, the Ursuline sister who won the Italian version of the popular talent competition The Voice, because I felt a bit ambivalent about the whole thing. I didn't think it was scandalous, just gimmicky. My first impression when I saw the viral video of her auditioning for the show's judges was that her getting through was the result of a sort of "man bites dog" situation. No one expects to see a young woman in full habit, crucifix and sensible shoes belting out an R & B number on national television. But there she was: the judges couldn't help but go for it, and so a curiosity was born. I figured that the good sister's 15 minutes would pass and she'd be back in the convent before long, mainly because her singing voice is unremarkable. Not bad by any stretch, and Sr. Cristina certainly has a lot of heart, but she doesn't possess the soaring and dramatic pipes of a Susan Boyle let's say, another viva in sheep's clothing who came out of nowhere to find fame on Britain's Got Talent a few years back. But here she is, the winner, and her singing career is on it's way.

For her first post Voice single she's chosen to cover Madonna's Like a Virgin. An odd choice: sure. A nun sings Like a Virgin? Sounds more like a Saturday Night Live skit. Scandalous? It's easy to think so.

Until you listen to it, and better yet watch the video.

In this off kilter song selection Sr. Cristina pulls off a bit of holy subversiveness. As Madonna indulges in hyper sexualizing the sacred (do you remember Like a Prayer?), Sr. Cristina has taken an ode to lust and turned it into a hymn to agape. In the original video Madonna struts, writhes and wiggles her way through the canals of Venice seducing the camera as she goes. It's a one note performance, in more ways than one (I forgot how much she sounded like Minnie Mouse in those early years). Here, Sr. Christina conquers the same canals, but with a gaze focused somewhere else, as she sings of making it through the wilderness to reach a love that is rejuvenating and eternal.  Rather than Venice serving as an amorous backdrop for the singer, it is itself a "character," whose natural beauty and architectural wonders help lift the mind to something higher, something spiritual, something pure. When she does look into the camera directly it's with a sly, Mona Lisa smile, that says, "Yeah, I went there." It also says, "Scoff if you will, but I know what love is, and it's so much more than most of us think."

Sr. Cristina's turns the tables on the Queen of Pop, and redeems an otherwise disposable dance number.

She also pulls off something very rare: she produces a cover that's actually better than the original.

Because of the slowed down arraignment, free of the original's overdone synthesizers and drums machines, we actually hear the lyrics. It turns out that they are rather tender and speak to the redeeming, renewing quality of love. The stanzas are wisely emphasized, with the chorus handled more subtly, so as to avoid what could have become an unintended parody. While the original stays pretty much on the same tempo and key, this new version lingers, swells, crashes and rises again, showing tones and colors Madonna never even thought of.  Sister may not have a powerful voice, but it is expressive, pointing to a different experience of love then we usually hear in your average pop song. This version can be taken on a romantic level for sure, but also on a far deeper plain of two people whose hearts are united in a spiritual, unconditional embrace.

We can even go further and see the union of the soul with God.

From the Song of Songs to John of the Cross romantic, even erotic, imagery has been employed to describe the the human soul united with God in contemplative prayer. This is brought our clearly in Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Teresa, where the saint is depicted, well, in ecstasy as the angel pierces her heart with  the arrows of God's love. St. John Paul II in his writings hinted that in the resurrection our whole being, body and soul, will be united with God in a nuptial embrace. Christopher West, the popularizer of the saint's Theology of the Body in the English language, has warned against over literalizing this concept, but the idea that the sexual union of man and woman is a foreshadowing, or imaging, of the heavenly reality to come is not so far fetched, and has it's roots in Christian mysticism.

Putting all the high minded theology aside, how do I explain Sr. Cristina's appeal? Beyond the novelty of it all, there is a beauty to innocence that only the most cynical can resist. It was the same with Susan Boyle: a practicing Catholic from a small town who always wanted to sing but never got the chance because the world cares more about the flesh than the spirit; appearances more than what lies beneath. When she did get the chance the public responded on a gut level and embraced beauty.

As for Sr. Cristina, who recently renewed her temporary vows, I pray for her. There are many temptations to pride and egoism in the entertainment industry that she's now entered. I hope she keeps her head about her, and uses this opening as an evangelizing tool, and when the bubble bursts, as it does eventually for everyone in that business, she has the humility to return to the "ordinary" life of her community. But until them, I'm hoping to see some more holy subversion out of her in near future.

Two Reflections on St. John Paul II from Catholic News Service and AOP

The Agony in the Garden | Columbia Catholic Ministry

Synod of Bishops: Twelve Months to Take a Breath

The lead up to the Extraordinary Synod of Bishops that is wrapping up in Rome was filled with predictions of fireworks and infighting. I normally don't give much credence to such talk, and while I agree with voices like Fr. Robert Barron that we shouldn't make too much out of this week's controversies, it's hard to deny that, for once, the predictions were right.

Clear divisions can be seen among the Synod fathers, and while I firmly believe that the Holy Spirit is in charge and all will workout along God's plan, it has been a disconcerting process.

Week one seemed to go smoothly enough. Sure there were a few eyebrows raised by an Australian couple who spoke to the bishops about welcoming gay children and their partners to Christmas dinner. But for the most part what ever tremors were going on seemed to be mild. It looked like all the talk of rupture and discord was overblown.

Then week two opened with a seismic jolt by way of the release of the Relatio post disceptationem (report after the debate), a mid term report meant to summarize the discussions so far. While the document is wide ranging, not particularly well written and most importantly, not an authoritative teaching tool, the three paragraphs concerning homosexuals in the Church caused a firestorm inside the synod hall and in the secular as well as Catholic press. It engendered strong reactions from conservative minded bishops like Cardinal Pell who implied that the most talked about debate, concerning the issue of Communion for the divorced and remarried, is a stalking horse to get things like the recognition of gay unions on then table. 

The drama continued with the controversial interview with Cardinal Kasper that wasn't (but really was). In it the cardinal, who has been championing a change in Church discipline to allow Communion for the divorced and remarried, came off as dismissive of the bishops from Africa, more then implying that they shouldn't have much of a say in how the Church moves in this area since their cultural milieu is so different from that of the Western world. Realizing how negatively he came off, Cardinal Kasper tried to deny that the interview ever took place, which was silly since it was recorded and there were two other journalists present. John Allen has an interesting take on the whole thing, framing the controversy in light of Africa's coming of age within the Church.

If any of you have been following the controversy surrounding Cardinal Kasper, you'll notice that I haven't used the word "racist" to describe him, as some have. Partly it's because I don't believe that he is one, and also I think the racism, as well as homophobe cards are thrown around way too freely these days. It's like calling somebody a communist back in the 1950's; a cheep and easy way to cast aspersions on someone you can't actually beat in an honest debate. Cardinal Kasper, high IQ not withstanding, was speaking after days of grueling meetings, probably before supper, so he was more than a bit hungry, and communicating in a second or third (or maybe even fourth) language. I can attest that my ability to communicate in Spanish takes a big nosedive after a long day and on an empty stomach. The cardinal is an honorable man, and should be given the benefit of the doubt.

But his words do denote a general prejudice that some churchmen in the West have toward their counterparts in the developing world. Again, not racism in the sense that they think that people from the Southern Hemisphere are inherently inferior, but that they haven't caught up socially or intellectually yet. Give them time, the Europeans say, and our African and Asian brothers and sisters will see the light. But the African bishops are saying wait a minute; we understand and live the Church's social doctrine with zeal, as well as embrace Her moral doctrines. We've experienced persecution, and know what it is to have to grow and develop in a hostile culture. We take a back seat to no one: our parishes, religious houses and seminaries are filled to overflowing, while those of the West are withering. Maybe it's you that need to learn from us. Maybe it is those that the world considers weak who will teach the strong.    

Thankfully the Synod will end this weekend, and we will have time as a Church to pray and reflect before the ordinary synod in 12 months. 

Next time, something on Pope Paul VI, who will he beatified Sunday, the Spirit of Vatican II and how both relate to this soon to be concluded Synod.

Cardinal Dolan Reflects on the Church in Africa

Synod of Bishops Week 2: The Drama Continues

A great deal has been made of the Relatio post disceptationem released yesterday out of the Synod. I usually try to down play all the talk of how ground breaking things coming out of the Vatican are, because in reality they usually aren't. I'm going to avoid that here, because a reasonable person can read it, as I did, and come away believing that there isn't just a different tone being offered, but a new doctrinal and pastoral approach.  Paragraphs 40-52, dealing directly with homosexuality, have gotten the most attention. While affirming that gay marriages can't be considered sacramental, and homosexual acts present moral problems (51) the two paragraphs which sandwich this representation of the traditional understanding of homosexuality stress the need for the Church to be open and pastoral to gay Catholics, and cherish the gifts they have to offer. This, again, is nothing really new. It's the suggesting that there is something intrinsic to orientation that is to be cherished that is the departure point.

But to more progressive minded, who see this as the sign of a doctrinal sea change, I say curb your enthusiasm, and to more traditional minded folks who see this as a betrayal, I say hold your fire.

This Relatio is a midterm working document. It's a cross between meeting minutes and the summary of a brain storming session. In reading it there were things I liked, things I had questions about, and a lot that seemed muddled and half baked; which is the way a document of this type is going to look like at a synod's midway point. I've been to several our provincial chapters, triennial meetings of the Salesian leadership, that are not exactly like a synod, but share things in common; like the need to formulate a closing document. There's writing, debate, revision, more debate, more revision, on and on until the mind reels. We passionately debate substance, we debate the placement of semicolons. It can be a very tedious, as well as engaging affair.  I'm imagining a lot of this is happening in the Synod, though at this stage there's more debate about substantive issues as opposed to grammatical style. Keep in mind too that what has been made public is an unofficial translation, even though it was released through the Vatican Press Office. So drawing conclusions about what the final document will be is premature.

These midterm relatio's are usual. What is unusual is that the verbatim interventions made by the bishops in session have not been released. Selective quotes have been made public in the daily news briefings, but no names are attached to the words. So we have no idea who is saying what, or if the the content of the relatio reflects to the actual debates going on inside the hall. I almost wish that if they weren't going to release the interventions then they should have held off releasing anything until the closing document.

Ah, but if they did that then what would I have to write about?

One thing I do want to write about is the principle of graduality, something being floated by some of the bishops that impacts the issues of homosexual acts, cohabitation and civil marriage.

More on that next time.

Introduction to The Rosary, and the Joyful Mysteries from Columbia Catholic Ministries

Is This a Synod of Bishops or a Stealth Vatican III?

I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that this Extraordinary Synod is the most important gathering of the pastors of the Universal Church since Vatican II. I'm going out on a limb, because I'm no scholar, nor am I the son of a scholar, but it could be argued that in ages past the pope would have called an ecumenical council to address what is a crisis of meaning, both inside and outside the Church, of the family. The debate, both public and private, has centered on the doctrinal understanding of the sacrament of matrimony and it's pastoral application. But, as at least one bishop has pointed out, the real issue being addressed in these two weeks isn't simply marriage in isolation, but the impact of the present cultural and social conditions on the family, of which marriage is a key component. Since the family is the building block of both Church and society the shifting definition of marriage and family is forcing the Church to ask existential questions of meaning and relevance. When the Church has faced other such crisis of meaning in the past, whether over the nature of the person of Jesus Christ or the number and definition of the sacraments, an ecumenical council was called. By opening up the synod process to greater input by the bishops themselves, Francis has called a sort of stealth council.

This is not meant as a criticism, simply as an observation.

Ecumenical councils can be messy affairs. They can take years to prepare for, and this lag time can give various factions within the Church too much time to push their agendas, or even sabotage the council itself. Once convened you don't know when it's going to end or even if it's going to end. Tent proceeded in fits and starts for 18 years before finally competing its work. Vatican I was cut short because of the Franco-Prussian War with the intention of reconvening but never did. Here Francis identified an issue challenging the life of the Church at its deepest level, shrewdly took a mechanism already in place, summoned an extraordinary session, which is not unprecedented, and gave the bishops time, but not too much time, to formulate their positions and debate them. The bishops have two weeks this year and next to do their job, and that's that, so they can't dally. He's also given them freedom to speak and even shape the agenda, which was the case with Vatican II, but may not have always been the case with the synods that have followed. And like an ecumenical council, the results, whatever they end up being, will effect Catholics at the grassroots level around the world; definitely not something that can be said of your average synod. This will be accomplished with all the benefits of a council and few of the hassles.

One of the great benefits of this more open, councilor style synod, is that voices from all over the world are being heard. The issue of divorced and remarried Catholics may be a burning issue in Europe and North America, and has gotten much of the news coverage in the West leading up to the synod, but isn't necessarily the number one priority in other places. African bishops are concerned with prevalence of polygamy in some parts of the continent, something culturally accepted that is in conflict with the Catholic view of marriage. Bishops from some predominantly Muslim countries face laws that force Catholics who marry Muslims to convert to Islam. The impact of poverty on family life is something which effects people from all over the world. We also shouldn't underestimate the presence of so many lay people participating as observers, who are not simply listening, but speaking as well.

Unlike Vatican II the focus of the synod is far more concentrated, but, again if I can go out on a limb, the results will be no less important. I leave off with some videos from the Catholic News Service, Catholic News Agency and Canada's Salt+Light Network to allow us to hear from some of the synod fathers themselves.

UPDATE: WLS Cancels Roe and Roeper! - I Had Nothing to Do With It!

Roe Conn and Richard Roeper

Yesterday I wrote unfavorably about the Roe and Roeper show's coverage of the Synod of Bishops. I'm truly sad to say that WLS AM canceled the show today. But I want to go on record that I had nothing to do with it. I was a big fan of the show and am very disappointed to hear the news. I guess the ratings were low and the station decided to pull the plug. The decision was obviously made at the last second, because as of yesterday they were giving out tickets to a remote appearance scheduled for Halloween. When Roe's former partner Garry Meier was let go ten years ago it was a drawn our affair that memory tells me went on for over a week. With all due respect to Richard Roeper, the show was better when Roe was teamed up with Meier, but it was still an enjoyable listen. When I was back east the last six years I'd tune in by way of the internet every so often just to get a fix.

So, I'll miss the show, and wish Roe and Roeper all the luck moving ahead.

A Further Reflection on Ezekiel Emanuel's End of Life Plan

In explaining his reasons for not wanting live past 75 years old, Ezekiel Emanuel references his own father. He describes how the senior Emanuel suffered a heart attack ten years ago, at the age of 77, had bypass surgery, but survived the experience. He lives on with his wife to this day. Though not incapacitated by any means, the once "hyper-active" MD and professor of medicine has slowed down considerably. He's had to give up his medical practice and teaching duties, though he's still sharp enough to gives his kids a hard time when they call on the phone. Ezekiel the Younger sees this wonders what kind of quality of life his father has, though he admits that Ezekiel the Elder says that he is happy.

There is no doubt that the father wishes he could do the things he once did. Happiness is never unalloyed. Even saints like Therese of Lisieux suffered a great crisis of faith in the months before her death. I don't believe that Ezekiel wants his father gone. But I do believe that he is projecting his own fears upon the old man. He can quote all the stats he wants, his high minded theory that it's better to burnout than it is to rust is born of a visceral reaction many of us feel when we encounter a person debilitated by age and infirmity: I don't want that to be me. We think of our life now and the independence we enjoy and can't imagine it any other way. To not be able to drive, or hike, or go out to dinner or what ever hobby or leisure activity we enjoy now is unimaginable. Maybe we're workaholics who find our meaning in our particular profession. When our identity is intimately connected with work and that work is taken away we can feel lost. But rather than fear, why not learn from the grace his father is carrying into his twilight time?

A feeling of fear can also hit us when we encounter people with developmental problems. Some ask if it's better if they were never born. As a society, we just don't ask it we've acted on it as well. While there is controversy over the percentages, anywhere from 50 to 90 percent of pre born babies prescreened as having down syndrome are aborted. Many will say that this is only to spare the child an unhappy life. Yet recent studies indicate that most people with down syndrome say that they are happy with their lives. Who are "regular" to judge them? Are we looking to put the child out of his or her misery, or are we looking to avoid the sacrifices inevitable with welcoming such a child into our families? Or are we embarrassed at not having a "normal" child? Are we letting our lives be ruled by fear, and why are we taking this fear out on these innocents?

This fear of growing old and not being able to do what we once did is not limited to secular minded people. A great issue facing aging priests and religious, particularly those religious in active apostolic communities, is that they don't age well. Salesians are notorious for this. We've been trained to work hard. The ideal is the "die with your boots on" in the service of the Lord. This was once possible when people routinely died in their 60's, still in the midst of the apostolate. But now we are living well into our eighties and even 90's. There is a frustration many feel in not being able to handle the classroom any more, or not having the strength to handle administrative or even pastoral duties anymore. As the years of "retirement" proceed (for Salesians retirement is a dirt word) it becomes crucial to develop an interior life of prayer and union with God. Those that don't end up experiencing a real crisis of meaning and even faith.

There is no magic potion that will make growing old easy. Even faith will not necessarily free us from all anxiety. But faith helps us see that we are greater than our productivity and usefulness. It helps to show us that fear is useless, especially when we project it onto others

WLS Talk Radio Tackles the Synod, or How Long Must I Endure All of You?

I usually have Chicago's Mighty 89 - WLS AM on the radio during the day, when I'm not playing music. They have the big national hosts, but also some local talkers that keep me in touch with the Chicago scene. In the afternoon Roe Conn and Richard Roeper  are on the air, with a show that has gone through several incarnations over the years. Conn has had a change of co-host at least once, and now he's teamed with the Sun-Times film critic. They do cover heavy news, speaking with serious guests when necessary, but it's played for laughs most of the time. I like the show; not overly political and irreverently funny without going into shock territory.  At 3 O'Clock Ron Magers, the local ABC TV anchor comes on to give a preview of the 6 O'Clock report. What did he talk about today? The Synod of Bishops, of course.

But Mr. Magers and his hosts had no idea what a synod was, which was made clear by their inability to articulately describe what the bishops were doing in Rome. In fact Magers called it a conclave, which made me groan. Then he proceeded to talk about a married couple from Australia who spoke to the synod, talking about the need to be welcoming to gay and divorced Catholics, and how ground breaking this was. Not only that, but they actually said that sex was important to married life, and intrinsic to it's sacramentality. What a revolution, they proclaimed. The three spoke kindly of the Church for it's longevity, and Roe Conn, using imprecise language, hit upon the fact that the Catholic Church has lasted this long because it's stayed true to it's beliefs. But of course, something would have to change now.

My initial response was frustration at how ill prepared Ron Magers, and really all three of them were, to speak about the synod, or Church matters in general. It's clear that they don't now the difference between liturgy, doctrine and canon law, or what Pope Emeritus Benedict's baptismal name is, or the job he held before becoming pope. They would never talk about state politics without knowing who the governor or speaker of the house are, or a little about their job history that might impact on what's going on now. But they'll dive into matters of the Catholic Church with ignorant abandon. These are three intelligent men, who have a pretty good grasp on what's going on in the world, but knew bupkis about the Catholic Church; and not being Catholics isn't an excuse. If they're going to bring it up, be ready to talk about it.

After I thought about it, taking into account their good will, I was happy that they at least they thought that the synod was important enough to comment on. I can't blame them for being unaware of John Paul II's theology of the body, or his other writings on human sexuality. He shocked people in the early 60's when he wrote that husbands need to be attentive to their wives' sexual satisfaction lest sex becomes a selfish act and wives view it as a chore. Or the long standing belief of many theologians (including a non theologian like myself) that the Sacrament of Matrimony isn't really contracted until it's consummated on the wedding night. I can't blame them for thinking priests and bishops are all a bunch of kill joy prudes, because some of us do come off that way, even ones who really aren't.

In fairness that the bishops are being addressed by married couples in synod is something new, and important. And Ron Magers is right, this open and frank dialogue is exactly what the Pope wants. Some bishops are out of sorts about the topics being covered, and some of the deliberations being conducted, as the trio suggested. But Francis doesn't care.

So I'll put up with the errors and malapropisms. At least they're talking about the Synod of Bishops in the MSM. But guys, I doubt that you'll read this, but if you're going to start throwing terms like "liturgy" or "canon law" around, know what they are. And Pope Emeritus Benedict's baptismal name is Josef Ratzinger. You'd do your homework if you were going to discuss ISIS or Pat Quinn's election chances. Give the same consideration to religious topics. I don't want to discourage you, though, and you know that I'll be listening tomorrow afternoon.

Why I Hope to Die When I'm Meant to Die

Dr. Ezekiel "Zeke" Emanuel 

University of Pennsylvania bio-ethicist Ezekiel Emanuel has caused a bit of a stir with an article in the latest issue of The Atlantic Monthly stating that he hopes to die at 75 years of age. I'd never heard of Dr. Emanuel before, but should have since he was right in the middle of formulating the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act, popularly known as Obama Care. Oh, yeah, and his brother also happens to be Rahm Emanuel, the mayor of Chicago.

"Zeke," as his friends call him, is clear that he doesn't believe in euthanasia, and won't do things to purposely shorten his life, but once 75 hits he won't do anything to prolong it either. No colonoscopies, no stress tests, no doctor's visits of any kind after 75 years old.

Why?

Because the data shows that overall quality of life peaks at 40 and takes a slow decline until it falls off the table at roughly 75. Dr. Emanuel is not just talking about a person's physical health, but creativity and productivity as well. Artists, composers, scientists and philosophers tend to make the most important contributions to their respective fields by forty, and their last significant one before they reach 60. Nobel Prize winners are usually recognized for some breakthrough that they made in their late 40's. As a person progresses through their 80's one's cognitive, creative and physical abilities deteriorate to the point of making the quality of life increasingly poor. He argues that the breakthroughs made in increasing life expectancy are not so much extending life as prolonging the process of dying. Are their exceptions to this rule? Sure; and he reserves the right to change his mind in the future. But for now, at 75 most people are still living a high enough quality of life that it makes it a good time to pass on before things really start going down hill.

There are aspects of Dr. Emanuel's article I agree with. We in the United States today have an almost pathological obsession with extending physical life. We believe that, with technology, we will find a way to live for ever. We really do believe that 70 is the new 50, which he says is just delusional when we face the facts. I would add that our approach to medical research is a reflection of this delusion. We just don't want to collect money to find a cure for cancer-we want to "defeat" it, as if it were a foreign enemy. Quite often those blessed to have survived a deadly disease like cancer will say that they "beat it," as if it was done purely by a force of will. I'm sure they aren't thinking this way, but it's as if to say that the guy who doesn't "beat it" somehow didn't do all he could, or gave in to an "enemy." We believe that with science and medicine, and a strong resolve, we can beat mortality itself.

But both Dr. Emanuel's position that our years are better limited and those who want to extend life indefinitely are coming from the same point of view: that this is the only life worth living and there is nothing to look forward to after we die. So on the one hand it's better to live while we're still active and productive, calling it a life once we've come to the end of our prime, and on the other we need to find a way to prolong those meaningful years as long as possible, even if in the end we're whistling past the grave yard.

I don't know what Dr. Zeke's beliefs about an afterlife are, and most people still believe in God, even if they aren't terribly religious. But we, as a culture, live like atheists. I would say that most of us take going to heaven for granted, but if we really believed that I'm not sure we would be so afraid to face the reality of death on one hand, or want euthanasia on the other (California and Great Britain are the latest places considering legalizing "mercy" killing). Life is about activity and productivity, with a touch of creativity if we're lucky. If we are disabled, sick, or in anyway less then physically or cognitively up to snuff, then life must not be worth living. The solution is simple; do all we can avoid such a fate through diet, exercises, and medication, end our lives when these don't work anymore or at least don't impede the inevitable, as Emanuel advocates.

But Catholics need to live a different way. We believe that life has a purpose beyond the goals we set for ourselves. We were sent here for a purpose, and are called to spend our time on earth figuring out what that is and doing it. Sometimes, probably most of the time, we don't know what that is until we die and are shown the path we walked and the lives we touched. It's not for us to say when it's done, but for God to make that decision.

We walk a tight rope in a way. We should take advantage of medical science and care for our health, fostering the gift we've been given. All the same, we need to know that we may have 40 years or we may have 100, but our earthly life will end all the cholesterol medicine and power walks aren't going to change that.

Attaching the meaning of our lives to our physical, or even mental, activity level is limiting the things God can do through us. It says that a disabled or developmentally challenged person doesn't have the value of a "normal" person. He can't be as happy or satisfied as a "whole" man. We forget that those the world considers the least are here to teach the strong the value of love and compassion. Those who are old, no longer active are to pass on wisdom to the young. We believe that there is more to reality to what we can see and touch, and prayer is the bridge between the visible and invisible.  Those who can't do any longer still contribute in an incalculable way when they dedicate their time to prayer.

When I was a young seminarian there was a convent of contemplative nuns in the Hunts Point section of The Bronx whose whole mission was to pray for the men in formation for the Archdiocese of New York. Each sister had three or four seminarians that they prayed for. Once a year we went down and visited. My nun was Sr. Mary Thomas. Sr. Mary Thomas suffered from Alzheimer's. I'd go over to her and say hello, but she had no idea who I was. But she prayed for the name she had on an index card, and that name was mine. I'm here, at least in part, because of her prayers. She died many years ago. I believe that she is still praying for me, only now she knows who I am.

If we understand that life is so much bigger than our activity, productivity and creativity, we would have a different attitude toward death. Of course no one wants to suffer decline, or see a loved one suffer. I'm not saying that growing old is going to be easy if you just believe in Jesus. What I am saying is that faith in Christ leads us to trust in something greater than ourselves, and possibilities greater than our fears. Life only loses it's meaning if we only believe in ourselves, our activity and our plans, because those things pass. But when we let go, and allow God to set the agenda, we will see that the grave is not to be hoped for, but it's not to be feared either.

So, I'm not going to put a time limit on this thing called life on earth. If I die tomorrow, or if I'm around for another thirty of forty years, so be it. As long as I'm living like I'm meant to live and die when I'm meant to die.