Communion is not a reward for good behavior, and it certainly isn't a weapon

In the latest episode of American Bishops Saying Awful Things, the Archbishop of Detroit has apparently said that supporters of gay marriage should not be allowed to take communion.  He is far from the first bishop to say such an outrageous thing, just the most recent.

I am really, really sick of seeing bishops use communion as a weapon.  I don't care what social or political point you are trying to make, communion does not belong in the arsenal.  No adult who professes a belief in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist should be denied it.  Ever.  For any reason.

Because if you come right down to it, none of us deserve to receive the Eucharist.  I don't deserve it.  The congregation around me doesn't deserve it.  The priests who consecrate it don't deserve it.  None of us are worthy, because we are all sinners.  The Eucharist is a gift from God.  It is not something that we earn.  It cannot be earned.  Eucharist is divine, and we are human. 

Non habemus papam

Apparently the Pope is resigning.  Which is, well, earth-shattering.  It's been something like six centuries since a Pope has resigned at all, and two centuries more since a Pope has done so voluntarily.  (The 15th century occurrence was the resolution to a schism, so it's hard to call it voluntary.)

I respect Pope Benedict XVI's decision to step down.  Whatever the motivation, both inward and outward recognition that one is no longer able to fulfill a role in the way that one desires to fulfill it is incredibly difficult, and few people have the strength of character to do so, especially when it involves giving up that kind of power.  My respect for Pope Benedict's decision only deepens when I think about the way that Pope John Paul II carried on in failing health, and the cost that the church may have paid for not having a vigorous leader during his failing years.  Being willing to step down when no longer effective shows a love for the church over love for self, and that is something I can admire.

However, given the timing of his resignation, the Pope's decision to step down provides an opportunity for the church to heal some of the wounds of the abuse scandal. 

Contraception, Catholicism, and feminism

One of the central tenets of the Catholic faith (and indeed, of pretty much every major religion) is the primacy of human dignity: a deep and abiding respect for the full humanity and intrinsic value of every person on this Earth.  That reverence for human dignity, which truly is at the center of Church doctrine, is one of my guiding principles.  It is one of the main things my faith has taught me.

And when I say a reverence for human dignity, I mean a reverence for the full humanity of every person.  Applied to women, this means a respect for the dignity of their uteruses.  It also means a respect for the dignity of their minds, their mouths, their hands, and their feet.  It means respecting women as fully human on every level, and as such both valuing them and engaging with them.

Frustrations: the bishops and birth control, grad school and Good Friday

Most of the time, I don't find it much of a struggle to be both liberal and Catholic.  My conscience is clear.  Both identities affirm my values and challenge me to grow as a person.  Both push me to look beyond myself and to care for the world around me.  Neither is easy, but both are personally rewarding.  Internally, I am at peace with the allegiances I have chosen--enough so that I am comfortable recognizing them as allegiances.

But maintaining both identities can be frustrating on occasion.  I am lucky enough to have a large group of friends who share both my political religious values (whether specifically as Catholics, or simply as people who belong to an organized religion and try to live according to their faith).  But sometimes I feel caught between a secular world with a fierce concern for social justice and an deep skepticism of organized religion, and a religious world with an equally deep and abiding skepticism of the broad goals of social equality that my liberal friends take for granted.

Right now I feel caught in the middle.  Caught between a Church that seems to be proud of trumpeting its utterly gothic attitudes about women and a secular world that has little room or respect for religious practice.

For you and for all

Today is the last Sunday of the liturgical year, the feast of Christ the King.  The political reasons behind the creation of this feast day kind of annoy me, but at the same time I love Ignatius's meditation on Christ the King that starts the second week of the exercises.  So I'm a bit ambivalent about the feast.

Of course, it is also the last week with the old missal, the only translation of the Mass that I have ever known.  Or the last week with any vestiges of it, really, since we've been slowly moving to the new language over the last month and or two.

Most of the changes don't bother me much.  I mean, it's weird, and it's hard to describe how disconcerting it can be to have unfamiliar words in the place of words I know and love so well.  But most of the changes are merely awkward, uncomfortable and foreign, more ritual and less poetic simplicity.  Yet there are a couple of changes that really bother me, that make me feel somewhat sick.

Getting away from 3rd grade God (part I)

One of my frustrations with the way that Christianity is practiced (at least within US culture) is that we tend to get stuck in what I'd call a 3rd grade view of God.  This is especially true in how we present things to outsiders and young people, but it extends beyond that.

Outside of theological discussions--which tend to remain the realm of adult Christians already heavily invested in their faith, perhaps understandably--we tend to present God in an overly simplistic, two-dimensional way.  (At least to the extent that we emphasize individual relationship with God at all... not Catholicism's strong point, in general.)

This 3rd grade God is the God of stars and hearts and flowers and rainbows and bunny rabbits.  This is appropriate for young children, because God's love for us is fundamental, as is the idea that God is the source of all gifts, all good.  God gives us good things.

But it's not an appropriate idea of God for adults. 

First Principle and Foundation

One of the questions I get a lot in words, and even more often in looks, goes something like this:

An outspoken, liberal young woman like you, Catholic?  Really?  What on Earth do you see in that?

There are a lot of reasons behind that sentiment.  Part of it is that most liberals are not religious in the U.S. these days, particularly not those under 40.  Part of it comes down to what people know about the Catholic Church, and its image in this country (for which the Church bears significant but not total responsibility).  People think of strict male-run hierarchy, of homophobia, of the obsession with abortion, of pedophilia.  None of which sounds very appetizing to your average American liberal.

But the on top of all of that formidable list, there's another issue: people don't have a clear picture of what the Catholic faith has to offer someone like me.  As to that, I have a lot of answers.  Too many to give an exhaustive list.  So I'll start with one of them.  It's called the 'first principle and foundation,' and it was formulated nearly 500 years ago by a Spanish priest, Iganatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits.