"The victory is peace."

The bishop had daily Mass today. I was not expecting that, considering I wasn’t at the cathedral and I only ever see him at major events. And the melodies for things like the Sanctus and the Amen were entirely new to me. Threw me off my game.

Something else that throws me off my game: the celebration at the death of Osama bin Laden. Yeah, he was a terrorist, and yeah, he orchestrated the attacks on September 11^th, but he was still a person. I turned on CNN late last night just before President Obama made his official statement. There was a reporter standing outside the White House, and he kept directing the audience’s attention to the growing group of people gathered outside the White house fence. They were celebrating and chanting “USA” and singing the national anthem. It made me exceedingly uncomfortable.

Luckily the Vatican agrees. Their statement today:


"Faced with the death of a man, a Christian never rejoices, but reflects on the serious responsibility of everyone before God and man, and hopes and pledges that every event is not an opportunity for a further growth of hatred, but of peace."

Hatred should never beget hatred. I know bin Laden resisted capture and most likely would not have permitted himself to be taken alive, but it still feels more like revenge than anything. A lot of people died because of him, but is more death the answer to that? We as Christians don’t live by Hammurabi’s Code. We’re supposed to be better than that. Martin Luther King, Jr. said:

"Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

I have the utmost respect for MLK. He was a great orator and he spread the message of nonviolence. But today Father M. takes the cake for best message. He posted the following as a facebook status: 


"A thank you to all of the brave men and women serving our nation and fighting for our security. As Our Lord told St. Faustina, 'Mankind will not have peace until it turns with trust to my mercy.' Death, however it comes to pass, is never necessarily 'good.' We should never seek violence for violence, or celebrate the death of another as a victory. Having celebrated Divine Mercy Sunday yesterday, it is imperative to remember that we always seek the mercy of God for ourselves and others, and seek at all times to promote, defend, and protect human life. The victory is peace. Peace comes from Christ and his mercy."

As a writer, I like to think I have a way with words. But as a person, on days when I can only convey a sense of discomfort and unease, it’s nice to be able to fall back on people who know how to speak Truth.

St. Joseph doesn't mess around (and other Sunday snippets).

                 So I’ve spent approximately all day at one church or another. Today was the Pioneer Club 20^th anniversary extravaganza at the Methodist church in a neighboring town. I’m a proud alumna of Pioneer Club and for the past six weeks or so I’ve been substitute teaching the third and fourth graders there. They’re pretty much adorable. I hit up the 9:30 Methodist services followed by the anniversary program, followed by a luncheon in the church basement. (At the Cathedral they call the basement the undercroft. That’s an awesome word to add to my vocabulary.) For the second time this week, I ended up discussing theology with my former pastor.

                I’m not the greatest apologist (had I known I was going to need it, I would have taken that class at school), but I think I did all right with clearing up a few misconceptions. I’m utterly convinced that other Christians aren’t Catholic because they have all these crazy ideas about The Church that just aren’t true. If people were willing to listen or to ask the proper questions or even just to do a little googling, I think a lot of people would realize the problems they have with the Catholic Church are over issues that don’t actually exist.

                Of course the same goes for you cradle Catholics out there who have no idea what Protestants believe. Don’t even get me started on the crazy Protestant Bashing I heard in college. A word of advice: you won’t be able to defend your faith properly if you’re operating under false assumptions about the people against whom you’re defending it.

                After the luncheon I headed out to my parish for the Divine Mercy Sunday festivities. I was able to catch the last hour, during which a pair of nuns led us in singing the chaplet, which was really beautiful. There was Eucharistic adoration, and the cathedral was packed. It’s always lovely to see a full church. After the chaplet I went down to the undercroft (awesome word) for my second ever confession. The good news: it was far less terrifying than my first ever confession. I was still nervous, though, and kind of a mess. I had never met the priest before, but he was really nice and gave me some advice on how not to be confession-phobic.

                This was yet another new and exciting experience for me, what with the make-shift portable confessionals around the perimeter of the room. Luckily I was expecting it (by the sheer coincidence that I’d seen a picture of a large group of priests hearing confessions in this manner), but I still almost turned around and left when I got to the door just because the whole I-have-no-idea-what-I’m-doing thing makes me really nervous because I don’t want to screw anything up.  I’ve done face-to-face rather than kneeling both times, which surprises me, because for the past year I’ve thought I would never do face-to-face. I’m fairly shy, so I always assumed I would prefer the anonymity, but sitting right there with the priest makes it easier for me to preface everything with, “I have no idea what I’m doing,” and then he can walk me through the process.

                I made it back upstairs in time for the benediction, which was of course beautiful (you’ll find I think a lot of things are beautiful). And then it was back to the undercroft for refreshments. Since I was by myself I had to buck up and make friends, so I sat at a table full of older ladies who happened to be from my parish. They were really nice and welcoming, and we got to talking about books, which is always a good time for me. Father N. appeared behind us and told them they better not be corrupting me. He watches out for the newbies.

                I was pleased to make it to the evening Mass at the other church in my parish. I ran into my RCIA sponsor and her husband there, so it was nice to have someone to sit with at church for once. Plus I got to hold their baby for a little bit. He’s a-freaking-dorable. Afterward we were chatting in the vestibule, and L.K., my sponsor, introduced me to someone she knew, as she’s wont to do. The subject of my needing a full time job so I could afford the gas to get to daily Mass came up, and L.K.’s husband mentioned today’s the feast of St. Joseph the Worker. He said I should take it up with St. Joseph. Lo and behold, the man L.K. had just introduced asked what kind of work I wanted. I said I wasn’t picky, and that I’d been a writing major in college, and he said, “I could give you some typing work.” Thanks, St. Joseph!

In which I show my geek side.

                Today I’m finishing up the Divine Mercy Novena in honor of Divine Mercy Sunday, which is tomorrow.  This is the first novena I’ve ever prayed (it wasn’t so long ago that I didn’t even know what a novena was). Judging from the name, I thought novenas were certain prayers that you did for nine days, but apparently it can be nine anything: days; weeks; years; or perpetuity, which doesn’t really make it nine anything anymore if you ask me. I’ve come to the conclusion that the Divine Mercy Chaplet is a pretty cool prayer. It’s easy to memorize, which is great for those of us who still have to use a cheat sheet for the rosary sometimes, and the words themselves have a really profound meaning. And I’m a fan of linguistics, so for me the words, “For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world,” just have a really nice ring to them. (Also it’s short. I don’t have anything against long prayers, but I pray before bed, and I’m a little ashamed to admit that I’ve been known to fall asleep before finishing a rosary. Now the rosary makes me yawn. It’s very Pavlovian.)

                Divine Mercy Sunday is one of those things I’d heard of but didn’t really know anything about until, you know, today. I was around for it last year, of course, but seeing as it was about a week after I’d decided to become Catholic, I was more worried about what was going on at Mass and kneeling at the right time than I was about what feast day or solemnity it was. (Is this a feast day? I don’t even know.) But this afternoon I was watching live coverage of the prayer vigil in Rome for the beatification of John Paul II, and they had a little segment on Divine Mercy Sunday and St. Faustina, a Polish nun, who had a vision of Jesus with two beams of light emanating from His heart, “one red and one pale.”

                “Oh, so that’s who St. Faustina is,” I thought to myself. And then the segment went on to say that a painting of Faustina’s vision had been commissioned. “Oh, so that’s where that picture came from,” I thought. You learn something new every day.

                I happened to go to the vigil Mass today because I have to be at the Methodist Church tomorrow for a Pioneer Club anniversary celebration and I didn’t want to wait until the end of the day tomorrow to go. Plus I just like going to Mass, so I’ll probably end up going at the end of the day tomorrow anyway. Father M. had Mass at the cathedral downtown, and he mentioned the Faustina painting, of course. We have a print on display in the church. He said the red light coming from Jesus’ heart represents blood and the white light represents water. These, in turn, represent Christ being both God and Man. There’s a lot of that going on, I’ve found.

                Father M.’s homilies are always fantastic. Today he talked about the readings, when the risen Christ breathed on the apostles, establishing through the priesthood the sacrament of Reconciliation and how this institution relates to His Divine Mercy. He pointed out that there are only three instances in Scripture where it says that God breathed: during creation, when God breathed life; on the cross, when Jesus breathed His last and accomplished reconciliation between God and mankind; and in the upper room, when Jesus comforted the apostles and breathed on them. That, Father M. said, is how you know it was a really big deal.

                I always get really excited in a super nerdy sort of way when I realize how much sense the Bible makes in the context of the Catholic Church.