This article, written by a Melkite-rite Catholic priest describes the life and death of Franz Jägerstätter, an Austrian farmer who lived during the Nazi era. Jägerstätter was not an educated man yet he saw evil clearly and was not afraid to call it what it was. While many German and Austrian intellectuals and highly educated members of the clergy supported Hitler, this man--who left school at the age of fourteen--saw that the Nazi regime was wrong and refused to support it by serving in the military.
He was guillotined for his refusal at a prison in Berlin. He left three children behind.
The story of his life does not end there. On October 26, 2007, he was beatified by Pope Benedict. Beatification is of course the last step before canonization and being named as a saint.
I encourage you to read the article linked above and learn about this man. While there are huge differences between the Nazi regime and the American Empire--the American empire isn't so much actively racist as it is cruelly indifferent to those who get in its way--his example can serve as an inspiration to those of us who are frustrated by our inability to stop the American war machine.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
A really bad priest
The old priest left the priesthood and I am delighted. He and I did not get along. Apparently, at least one other woman had the same problem with him. She told me to watch who he greets warmly after mass--that he greets those who can advance his career in the church. Months later, someone told me this priest had antagonized the other priest in the parish so badly that they had stopped speaking
At one point, I offered to do some free work for a young woman in the church who did not have much money. As soon as I agreed, her whole way of talking to me changed. She went from being gentle to being edgy and demanding. An old boyfriend sometimes dials in remotely to my answering machine because at one point, he didn't have a regular residence and used my number. After this woman left a message, he talked to me later and asked "Who is this person? Why is she talking to you this way?" A few weeks later, she called again. I listened to my voice mail and gasped. She was actually YELLING, ALMOST SCREAMING at me and barking orders at me. I was stunned and felt like I was being bullied. My friend called in remotely and later called me to ask "Why is she so abusive to you?" I wrote her an email telling her I didn't like the way I was being treated. She worked part time at the church and apparently, she shared the letter with the priest. By the way, there were no profanities and no threats. It was just a very strong statement of my hurt at the way I was being treated.
Well, the priest didn't even stop to think that maybe I had a reason to feel the way I did. He refused to even shake my hand when I came out of church, made a terrible face, opening his eyes wide in mock horror and letting his mouth hang open. Then he turned away from me. EVERYONE WALKING OUT OF MASS SAW HIM SNUB ME. He didn't bother to get my side of the story or even consider that maybe I had a side. He would walk away from me when I tried to talk to him.
Being rejected by one's priest really hurts. There was no objectivity, no neutrality, no nothing. He didn't stop to think that this young woman would treat him--a man, her priest, her boss--differently than she would treat me.
Later, I met with him to work on HIS ministry and he acted like he was doing ME a favor by meeting with me.
This priest was an activist priest. Very liberal, even radical and interested in working with the poor and with an organization called BOLD Justice. It has often been remarked that often people with the most humanitarian ideologies are the most difficult in their personal lives. He is an example of that.
As a P.S., this young woman and I patched up our differences. She told me she was severely abused by her mother. Apparently, when I agreed to do free work for her, I put her in the same position emotionally that she was in when she was young and needed her mother and got abuse instead of help. She was no doubt doing what many abused people do--checking out people who befriend them to see if they are safe and what their limits are.
I can understand and forgive this girl, but I really can't understand and forgive this priest. His name is Paul Kane and I feel no need to protect people who humiliate me *publicly.* After all, I wasn't asking for heroic pastoral care. I just wanted a handshake after mass.
At one point, I offered to do some free work for a young woman in the church who did not have much money. As soon as I agreed, her whole way of talking to me changed. She went from being gentle to being edgy and demanding. An old boyfriend sometimes dials in remotely to my answering machine because at one point, he didn't have a regular residence and used my number. After this woman left a message, he talked to me later and asked "Who is this person? Why is she talking to you this way?" A few weeks later, she called again. I listened to my voice mail and gasped. She was actually YELLING, ALMOST SCREAMING at me and barking orders at me. I was stunned and felt like I was being bullied. My friend called in remotely and later called me to ask "Why is she so abusive to you?" I wrote her an email telling her I didn't like the way I was being treated. She worked part time at the church and apparently, she shared the letter with the priest. By the way, there were no profanities and no threats. It was just a very strong statement of my hurt at the way I was being treated.
Well, the priest didn't even stop to think that maybe I had a reason to feel the way I did. He refused to even shake my hand when I came out of church, made a terrible face, opening his eyes wide in mock horror and letting his mouth hang open. Then he turned away from me. EVERYONE WALKING OUT OF MASS SAW HIM SNUB ME. He didn't bother to get my side of the story or even consider that maybe I had a side. He would walk away from me when I tried to talk to him.
Being rejected by one's priest really hurts. There was no objectivity, no neutrality, no nothing. He didn't stop to think that this young woman would treat him--a man, her priest, her boss--differently than she would treat me.
Later, I met with him to work on HIS ministry and he acted like he was doing ME a favor by meeting with me.
This priest was an activist priest. Very liberal, even radical and interested in working with the poor and with an organization called BOLD Justice. It has often been remarked that often people with the most humanitarian ideologies are the most difficult in their personal lives. He is an example of that.
As a P.S., this young woman and I patched up our differences. She told me she was severely abused by her mother. Apparently, when I agreed to do free work for her, I put her in the same position emotionally that she was in when she was young and needed her mother and got abuse instead of help. She was no doubt doing what many abused people do--checking out people who befriend them to see if they are safe and what their limits are.
I can understand and forgive this girl, but I really can't understand and forgive this priest. His name is Paul Kane and I feel no need to protect people who humiliate me *publicly.* After all, I wasn't asking for heroic pastoral care. I just wanted a handshake after mass.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Trying to Grasp Jesus
As I have written in other posts, Jesus is a difficult figure for me. He is too grand, too imposing, and the theology about him is too hard to grasp. I had a flash of actually liking Jesus, deeply, when I heard the gospel reading about him defending a sinful woman, probably a prostitute, against those who condemned her.
In some odd way, I felt an intuitive flash of understanding of the prologue to John's gospel today. I had been trying to read some essays on mind and matter written by Erwin Schrodinger, the Nobel laureate in physics whose Schrodinger equations are so important to quantum mechanics. He had a mystical belief in one universal mind. His views were very close to those found in Eastern religions. I was thinking of the Word in John's gospel, the Logos, a kind of eternal wisdom similar to what Schrodinger writes about. And I thought of Jesus as the embodiment of that Logos, that eternal mind. A passage that had previously only been beautiful words took on a new meaning and I came closer to grasping what John meant--or at least I think I did.
In some odd way, I felt an intuitive flash of understanding of the prologue to John's gospel today. I had been trying to read some essays on mind and matter written by Erwin Schrodinger, the Nobel laureate in physics whose Schrodinger equations are so important to quantum mechanics. He had a mystical belief in one universal mind. His views were very close to those found in Eastern religions. I was thinking of the Word in John's gospel, the Logos, a kind of eternal wisdom similar to what Schrodinger writes about. And I thought of Jesus as the embodiment of that Logos, that eternal mind. A passage that had previously only been beautiful words took on a new meaning and I came closer to grasping what John meant--or at least I think I did.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Praying with Mary
More than a decade ago, a friend gave me a beautiful book, Praying with Mary. I have treasured it ever since. It contains all the traditional Marian prayers and is a work of grace and beauty. I am including a link to it in this post.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Miscellaneous Observations
1. More than the other sexual abuse scandals in the Church, the one involving deaf children shook me to the core. Church authorities knew about the abuse for years and did nothing. In this case, the kids were living at a residential school withot parents to protect them and no way to escape their abuser. This scandal completely obliterated my willingness to follow rules: not eating for an hour before mass, confession once a month, mass every Sunday no matter how inconvenient. The scandal has turned me into a Cafeteria Catholic. I do not much feel like following rules enforced by people who turn a blind eye to the abuse of children whose parents are far away and have difficulty communicating their abuse to others.
2. I had the beginnings of a relationship with someone in my Bible study. It did't work out, which was for the best, I believe. Still, I haven't been to the Bible study in more than a month because I dread the awkwardness. It seems that I will never go back. I have lost a social activity I values. This is very painful.
3. I sat in mass last evening and looked up at a stained glass window depicting St. Martin de Porres.
For some reason, contemplating him gives me peace. He is not a well-known saint and I think he is underappreciated. He worked as an infirmarian. He also loved animals deeply and worked to heal them. He had the gift of wisdom and helped many people with relatonship difficulties. I am including a link if you want to read more about him.
http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=306
2. I had the beginnings of a relationship with someone in my Bible study. It did't work out, which was for the best, I believe. Still, I haven't been to the Bible study in more than a month because I dread the awkwardness. It seems that I will never go back. I have lost a social activity I values. This is very painful.
3. I sat in mass last evening and looked up at a stained glass window depicting St. Martin de Porres.
For some reason, contemplating him gives me peace. He is not a well-known saint and I think he is underappreciated. He worked as an infirmarian. He also loved animals deeply and worked to heal them. He had the gift of wisdom and helped many people with relatonship difficulties. I am including a link if you want to read more about him.
http://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=306
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The Feast Day of St.Anthony
I have a special love for St. Anthony, perhaps because I am always losing things and he is the patron saint for finding lost objects. Every time I am in a Catholic church with a statue of him, I touch the toe and thank him for his help. I was dismayed to realize that I had forgotten his feast day on the 13th of this month, which was a Sunday. Even though I forgot him, he did not forget me.
I have prayed for months to be able to feel closer to Jesus. Because I was exposed to fundamentalist Christianity early in life, I find Jesus a remote and troubling figure. It happened that the gospel reading that day was about a sinful women who washed Jesus' feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. When the religous leaders of her day scolded her--and in fact humiliated her--Jesus defended her. If one reflects on the gutter cruelty often visited on women whose sexual behavior has not been to the liking of others, one appreciates how compassionate Jesus truly was. For the first time in my life, I LIKED Jesus as a human being. He was a compassionate and accessible man waiting to welcome all who came to him with grace and forgiveness. I had heard this gospel reading many times but it never made an impression until that Sunday. This reading and the fact that I went to a church service I almost never go to and heard a wise and compassionate priest talk about seeing the humanity in others was a gift.
I have prayed for months to be able to feel closer to Jesus. Because I was exposed to fundamentalist Christianity early in life, I find Jesus a remote and troubling figure. It happened that the gospel reading that day was about a sinful women who washed Jesus' feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. When the religous leaders of her day scolded her--and in fact humiliated her--Jesus defended her. If one reflects on the gutter cruelty often visited on women whose sexual behavior has not been to the liking of others, one appreciates how compassionate Jesus truly was. For the first time in my life, I LIKED Jesus as a human being. He was a compassionate and accessible man waiting to welcome all who came to him with grace and forgiveness. I had heard this gospel reading many times but it never made an impression until that Sunday. This reading and the fact that I went to a church service I almost never go to and heard a wise and compassionate priest talk about seeing the humanity in others was a gift.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
The Third Joyful Mystery: the Birth of Jesus
It must be universal for mothers to want their children to have a better life than they had. Surely Mary wished this for Jesus. She must have been gravely disappointed in the external circumstances of her son's life.
A woman giving birth for the first time no doubt wants her mother with her. Instead, Mary gave birth either alone or with the assisstance of a midwife she had never met until that night. Jesus was not welcomed by joyful grandparents and surrounded by an extended family who loved him.
We have sentimental images of the Baby Jesus lying in a manger surrounded by his adoring parents, gentle-eyed animals and kneeling shepherds and wisemen. We forget that stables stink and are full of animal waste, that they are cold and drafty, and that a manger does not make a comfortable bed.
The difficulties of Jesus' birth did not end when they left the stable and moved into a regular house.
Because in the world's eyes, Jesus was conceived under embarrassing circumstances--the villagers in Nazareth didn't know about the Annunciation, they only knew Joseph wasn't really the father--she knew her firstborn would be scorned as a child born of adultery. In fact, when Jesus was over 30, the accusation of illegitimacy was stll being flung in his face. "Is this not Mary's son?" critics would ask?
Even if Mary didn't know yet that she would watch her son's torturous, humiliating death on the cross, she knew her son had been born into a life of poverty and social stigma. We like to think of her serenely smiling, her faith so strong that she was unmoved by difficulty but even a woman of indomitable faith could not but feel her heart sink when she, an impoverished citizen of an occupied country who had just borne an "illegitimate" child, laid her son in the manger.
A woman giving birth for the first time no doubt wants her mother with her. Instead, Mary gave birth either alone or with the assisstance of a midwife she had never met until that night. Jesus was not welcomed by joyful grandparents and surrounded by an extended family who loved him.
We have sentimental images of the Baby Jesus lying in a manger surrounded by his adoring parents, gentle-eyed animals and kneeling shepherds and wisemen. We forget that stables stink and are full of animal waste, that they are cold and drafty, and that a manger does not make a comfortable bed.
The difficulties of Jesus' birth did not end when they left the stable and moved into a regular house.
Because in the world's eyes, Jesus was conceived under embarrassing circumstances--the villagers in Nazareth didn't know about the Annunciation, they only knew Joseph wasn't really the father--she knew her firstborn would be scorned as a child born of adultery. In fact, when Jesus was over 30, the accusation of illegitimacy was stll being flung in his face. "Is this not Mary's son?" critics would ask?
Even if Mary didn't know yet that she would watch her son's torturous, humiliating death on the cross, she knew her son had been born into a life of poverty and social stigma. We like to think of her serenely smiling, her faith so strong that she was unmoved by difficulty but even a woman of indomitable faith could not but feel her heart sink when she, an impoverished citizen of an occupied country who had just borne an "illegitimate" child, laid her son in the manger.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
