I.M.H.O

I have a new guilty pleasure. On my break between semesters my fabulous friend Tim and I spent several hours on the couch watching Sex and the City DVDs and now I can't go more than 48 hours without checking into my DVR for my TBS censored version of Carrie Bradshaw and her urban antics. Not that I don't covet the DVD version f-bombs and all. But alas, my fixed income doesn't allow it.

I understand this is, for many, a counter-Christian activity. But I say the show is brilliant. I dare any Christian to watch it critically. Not as in, critical...like, "oh they're always fornicating...shame on them." But watch it with an eye out for Truth. Carrie Bradshaw, a sex columnist, narrates through the disasters that ensue after she and her friends try to figure out what it means to love, be loved, be selfish, be compassionate, be independent and so on. Carrie's writing style is mostly in the form of asking her readers rhetorical questions. I find that they are all the right questions. I strongly disagree with their methods for finding answers, I disagree with the answers she comes up with more often than not. BUT...sometimes her answers scratch the surface of Truth. And Truth, remember, with a capital T is God's Truth.

I'm certainly not condoning the behavior of these fictitious women. There are plenty of ways to go about asking the right questions and searching for answers that don't involve sex on the first date and handing entire paychecks to Monolo Blanik. But asking the right questions is a first step.

So when we run into the real life version of these characters maybe our jobs as Christians is to love them enough to keep our mouths shut about their sinful lifestyles and listen for the questions. If we love them, truly love them where they're at, maybe they'll trust us enough to listen for the right answers.

Decompressing

I had exams in both my classes today. I added up the total number of hours I spent studying and got a whopping 13.5 hrs. This human embryology class is hard. I'm a good memorize-er so I think that saves me. Foundations of Catholicism is not so bad because I've been studying Catholicism for several years now and it's not so unfamiliar. Science is just not my bag, baby.

Since I've been focused on sex organs and the Church for 3 days my house is in disarray. This is common when I've got school stuff to work on. But my sink-full of dishes is still not clean as I have been pleasantly distracted by the blogosphere.

I've found a particular literary agent (whew...haven't href -ed in a while...scary) who dispenses the wisdom of the publishing world in the manner of Dave Barry. His post today (see link) was about the single greatest writer-ish problem. Plot. I posted a comment because I seriously think that's my biggest issue. I have all the deeper meanings and messages of all the books I want to write but no plot. This is not workin' for me. Must develop plot.

So anyway, in my obsessive refreshing of the comments page (maybe this literary agent will comment on my comment directly!) I found another blogger who commented. She is published and writes...wait for it...Cool/real/Christian Chic-Lit. I commented on her blog too.

And the networking begins!

Dumbfounded by Extravegance and Greed

I have always felt that it is a person's right to accumulate wealth. It is what one does with that wealth that falls under the morality umbrella. Let's say a person is a gazillionaire and donates millions of dollars to causes that protect human dignity throughout the world. (that's more than I've ever given!) Can I begrudge them a nice house and maybe a Jaguar? I don't think so.

Excess is a relative term anyway. If I remember the numbers correctly, the average American 10-year-old paper boy is in the upper 6% of the world's income. That's crazy. Is it wrong for him to buy baseball cards when 94% of the rest of the world is starving? Of course it's not wrong.

But I did come across something that made me rethink this just a little.

As many of you know I'm a big fan of What Not To Wear. I really like the way Nick Arrojo does hair and I've been frustrated with my own lately because it's in that awkward growing-out stage. So I'm watching the show while I'm eating lunch and decide to Google Nick to see if he has a salon or whatever. Sure enough there's his salon. His website has a list of service and prices.

If I want to get my hair cut (just a cut...no color), by Nick himself, which will last in it's original state for about 2 weeks and then enter the growing-out stage in no more than 2 week after that, I would have to shell out wait for it....
.....
.....
.....
$500.

I don't care how much money you have or how much you and your gazillions protect human dignity. If you spend $500 on a haircut you should be shot.

First Session

I have two classes everyday for the next five weeks. Foundations of Catholicism is going to be great. It's my first theology class ever and I can't wait to get into it. The professor is a young man
(probably younger than me) with a wonderful dry wit. He had some artwork displayed while he lectured today and one of the images was the God/Adam Sistine Chapel fresco. He talked about how man was created out of the divine mind of God...blah blah blah. Then he said that he just showed that picture because if word got out that he showed pictures of naked people in class, it might be more popular. Which is interesting because...

I learned all about the male reproductive system in my human embryology class right before Foundations.

My day came full circle. Very nice.

I called Steubenvill "Home" the Other Day...It Scared Me

OK kids, I'm back. I promise to be a better blogger for all 5 of my regular readers. I love my fans. Hahahaha!

No seriously...I was so fried by the end of the semester that I couldn't put two words together. But my little vacay and time away from the books has refreshed my brain. I'm ready to study and I'm ready to write super duper intelligent stuff here on my blog. (hehe)

So get ready for some mind expanding B.S.

It is finished !

With the dreaded Spanish final behind me, I have now completed my first year back to school.
Now for summer school.
Yay

2 Week From Right Now ...

... I might be on my way to my Sweet Home Chicago!! I say "might" because it all depends on how efficient I am about getting myself packed.

I'm sending this out to anyone who can help me. I want to got to the Cub's game on Friday the 9th. Anyone want to come with?

I'd love to be in the bleachers but it seems they are not the trendy place to go "slumming" that they once were. I'd love to get my hands on some cheap tickets if anyone has heard of anything floating around that would be great!

Spring Fever

I have four weeks till my one and only final but my brain just wants to grill meat and eat picnic food. This is not good.

The Vigil

There are so many things I love about the Easter Vigil I don't know where to start. But let me begin by saying it wasn't 7 hrs long. It was about 3 1/2. I, with my short little legs swinging in discomfort, would have gladly stayed for another 3 1/2 hours. Yeah...it was that awesome.

The vigil begins in total darkness with all the priests outside. At Franciscan that's about 30. The celebrant takes the palms from Palm Sunday and burns them in a fire pit and it is with that flame that he lights the Easter Candle.

We had the giggles, I'm not gonna lie. We'd been sitting in the dark for 15 minutes when the vigil cam came on and we could see them all outside. One of our beloved friars almost caught on fire. We laughed that painful suppressed laughter. It hurt.

So the procession enters and we're all holding little taper candles. The Easter candle lights the ones on the aisles and the room fills with candlelight. It is the light of Christ dispelling the darkness. And we stopped giggling.

Then the priest prays a long chanted prayer called the exultet.
My favorite line:

"O happy fault,
O necessary sin of Adam,
which gained for us so great a Redeemer!"

Most Catholic Masses have three readings. The first from the Old Testament the second from the Epistles and the third is from the Gospels. BUT there are 10 readings at the vigil...and they aren't short. It's wonderful though because you get to see all of salvation history starting with the creation story and going through the significant stories that lead to our redemption: Abraham and Isaac; Moses and the Passover; and all those fabulous prophesies of Isaiah, Baruch, and Ezekiel.

The baptisms and confirmations come next. Unlike some non-Catholic denominations the Catholic Church acknowledges all Christian baptisms. So if an adult is being baptized at the vigil then it means they've never been baptized ever. There were three baptisms last night and they got into this kiddie pool of holy water and were dunked three times as the priest said, "I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

I have never in my life, at any baptism I've attended, witness a reaction like I did last night. After person #1 came up out of the water for the last time, the entire room erupted into thunderous cheers and clapping. Franciscan really knows how to welcome new members the family of God. It was so moving. And I thought the cheers would lessen as the other two came into the Church - but no. We hooted and hollered for 10 minutes straight I think. Truly awesome.

The the rest of the Mass is celebrated and we get to go to the all-night resurrection party. There was live music performed by students...each band would take turns. The first one was awesome and played a little of everything. The next was a girl band that I couldn't hear very well. It was fun till I started to feel old. Then a friend and I went to WallMart at 2am. (there was a party tomorrow/today and we had to get the fixin's we promised to bring) and there was this big black guy wandering around saying Happy Easter to everyone. I thought he might be a homeless guy (although I don't see many of them around here, come to think of it) since he didn't look like he was shopping and stopped to talk to all the stock boys who seemed to know who he was. Then this woman in orange hose and a black and orange dress walked by him with a full cart and said, "let's go." I almost burst out laughing right in front of them. I was slap happy again. When we were done, Jill and I went back to campus to see what the party was doing...it was only 3am and people were clearing out. What part of "ALL-NIGHT" did they not understand?!

Anyway,

All in all, Franciscan University of Steubenville earned every bit of Holy Week hype. That said, I attribute it mostly to my Lent, and to the things that God is doing in my own life. He is healing me...slowly. I have spent these 40 days recognizing my shortcomings and my powerlessness over the circumstances that created them. I am learning patience as well. I would very much like God to snap his fingers and heal me...right now. But what good would that do me? How can I unite myself to Christ's suffering if I'm not willing to feel pain in the refining process? He doesn't always take away the pain ... he just makes it worth it...because after this death...

is resurrection.

Alleluia

BTW...

The time stamp on the post below says 12:28. It is in fact 3:45am. I tried to last till the sun came up but all the undergrads were going home. WEENIES!!!

HE IS RISEN!

ALLELUIA !! and goodnight.

Good Friday

I wrote a feature story for the paper about the student-run liturgy committee. The student head of liturgy says she got like 3 hours of sleep during the Triduum last year. That's intense. And basically what I tried to do was let people know the committee exists without shining a spotlight on them. They see it as a ministry and they do it out of love for God. The members that I interviewed were humble servant types, not inclined to pat themselves on the back. So I tried to write a story that respected their man-behind-the-curtain presence. One of those people is my friend Anne. She is in charge of art and environment. Basically she and her partner do their best to make the field house (a place where sweaty guys bounce a ball back and forth) look like a place of worship. It is no easy feat.

But when I walked into the Good Friday Liturgy I was dumbstruck. Nothing but the stage/altar was decorated. If I were to look at it critically I would acknowledge that the fieldhouse ambiance was still there and even the faint smell of rubber and sweat still hung in the air. But I was there to meditate on the death of Christ. So all those things faded and I saw the stage piled with bricks and stones. These natural textures and colors gave the appearance of half walled city and half rocky hillside. My favorite part of the display was the broken pots on pedestals. There wasn't a crucifix with a bloody Jesus...just huge broken vessels of clay next to a big wooden cross. It was simple and yet it communicated clearly.

The veneration of the cross during the Good Friday service is something that my previously evangelical self couldn't wrap my brain around. Why do people kiss this piece of wood that isn't really the cross? Jesus died for my sin and it's done, why do people get in line like cattle to kiss this thing. It seemed meaningless to me.

But last night I had a bit of an epiphany...

One thing I remember about being away from the Church is the spirituality of evangelicalism. It always seemed an intangible thing, my salvation. I would pray and believe that God heard me because the bible said He did. I would pray and listen for The Voice, which rarely came. I would wait for the stirring of my spirit/emotions and when they remained unmoved, I would feel defeated and incapable of these basic practices of spirituality.

I'm a sensual person and being someone who's love language is physical touch, I have often railed at God for not giving me the husband I thought I should have. I've often cried about being lonely and not having a physical person to love me. I know we're supposed to fall in love with Jesus and all that, but Jesus can't curl up on the couch with you, ya know? "It's just not the same," I'd say, shaking my fist at the ceiling.

I realized last night that this Church of mine has provided a way for me to experience God with my body. I understood this in theory but last night the understanding made a free-fall into my heart. As I stood in line (like cattle) I realized that I couldn't wait to use this body of mine to bend and venerate the cross. To feel the wood on my lips for a fraction of a second. To kneel and feel the hard gym floor on my knees. To bow as the Blessed Sacrament was brought in. To smell the incense and to see the smoke of our prayers rising to heaven. To let the physical motions of my body become acts of worship in and of themselves.

Whew...it's amazing because then my emotions come -- in their proper order -- as a by product of worship. I do not worship because I am emotionally moved to do so, I worship because God is God.

Tonight is the vigil. It is one of my favorite celebrations of the whole year. From what I've heard it's 7 hours long. It is followed by an all-night resurrection party. If I can make it, I'm brining my camera to take a picture of the sun coming up on Easter morning....

But I'm not making any promises.

We Inerrupt This Triduum With a Special Report

Bandolino Jeans are the BEST jeans ever. Before last fall I thought Bandolino only made shoes...beautiful shoes that I've always wanted to own. But I was in Macy's last fall and found that they made jeans too. And they are the best jeans ever! They fit curvy women like me without being big in the waist! That's a freakin' miracle.

Holy Thursday and the Mass of the Lord's Supper

I came home after benediction last night and my roommate was watching EWTN (bad Catholic TV.) Pope Benedict the XVI was washing feet

I never thought, after all those years dabbling in evangelicalism, that I would love liturgy. At one time these rituals of Catholicism seemed rigid and void of genuine, spontaneous worship. I have found that spontaneity is highly overrated and that the lack of it does not hinder genuine worship. In fact quite the opposite is true.

The liturgy, quite simply, is. The worship is. Neither is dependent on the abilities of the musicians or the mood lighting or the drums. It doesn't matter how "in tune with the Spirit" the worship leader is. Even my own disposition is not a factor. God is worshiped regardless. I can participate, or I can just show up and be present. What makes it different from our praise and worship nights is that the pressure is off. I don't have to worry about "getting into it" because "it" does not require "getting into." It is enjoyed more fully the more actively and consciously I participate, surely, but "it" doesn't require it.

Also, when each movement of music, or the body happens, it is for a reason. People who don't understand laugh about the standing/sitting/kneeling/sitting/kneeling. But they are each done for reasons that one can choose to remember, or not. I will never not kneel during the consecration again. (Fieldhouse liturgies being the only exception as there is barely enough room to stand sometimes.) If the parish I'm at doesn't have kneelers I will kneel on the ground. Not because I'm holy or anything but because the One who is Holy is present. At that moment I am transported in time to the foot of the cross.

Holy CRAP that is awesome!

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about some rowdy praise and worship (I am still part charismatic after all) but these days of solemn joy are not the same without the rich tradition of our rituals and their deep meaning.

After Mass was a candlelight procession that followed the Blessed Sacrament to the chapel for adoration...and then Benediction. After that, all the tabernacles in the world are empty and Good Friday begins.

Wednesday Night

Lent comes to a close with the celebration of Tenebrae, a solemn night-time prayer service. It is chanted partially in Latin and ends in darkness. I have no idea what anything means but it is beautiful. The deepest meaning and mystery of The Passion is ultimately beyond my understanding anyway. I sit and allow the beauty of the music and the smell of the incense to turn my gaze to Christ. After each song is chanted, one of the many candles is extinguished until we are in darkness.

It is the beginning of the Holy Triduum, (Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday) the highest holy days of Christianity.

The Adventures of Holy Week, Franciscan Style

Happy Holy Week Kids!

We are now entering the highest holy days of Christianity. I have heard the rumors of Holy Week at Franciscan University. I have heard that "you haven't experienced holy week until you've celebrated it at FUS." That's quite a promise. I've been excited...though it's been cautious excitement because frankly, the claims are bordering on mythical. We shall see.
So far, Palm Sunday was awesome. And right now I'm on my way to the all campus confession. Not to be confused with general absolution (I think that's what it's called ) where the priest absolves everyone in the room. A quick sign of the cross and BAM! we're absolved. But not tonight...tonight we all stand in line till there's a priest open. I sort of feel like I should have gotten in line this morning with a sleeping bag and a lawn chair. I told one of my friends that we should bring a cooler. How cool would that be...and we'd leave with no sin on our soul which is often different from other situations that involve sleeping bags, lawn chairs and coolers.

I'll let everyone know how it goes!
May your week be holy

Lost: A New Addiction

I was with some friends while they were discussing Lost season 4. Long story short, I was informed that I could watch Lost from the very beginning on ABC.com? And like a kid in the school yard I said "sure I'll try some'a that." And it's all over. I am a junkie. I have no idea what happened in what season because they're all running together. But I do know my favorite Sawyer nicknames. (and I was very upset with Sun when she told him he had to stop the nicknames for a week.)
For a long time my favorite was Captain Falafel until he called Charlie "the Munchkin."

Look what I found!

On a Happy Note

I had a snow day yesterday! And I did what every responsible college student does on a snow day.

I went SLEDDING!!!

Eternal Rest Grant Unto Her Oh Lord ...

There was an article in our school paper last week about the flu epidemic on our campus. It was somewhat tongue-n-cheek and mentioned how many classes were half empty and the Kroger decongestant shelf was completely empty. The pharmacist even said that FUS students bought them plum out of meds.

Amanda Pudvah, a senior was planning to attend a retreat this weekend but said in her Facebook status update that she wasn't going because her back and ribs were sore and she had a terrible cough...would we please pray for a speedy recovery. Sunday she woke up vomiting blood and died from complications due to pneumonia later that afternoon.

She is now more fully recovered than if she had returned to her dorm. As believers we have that hope and so we do not despair. We are consoled.

But...

death is still so wrong.

Please pray for Amanda and for the consolation of her family and friends. (even you non-Catholics)

...and let perpetual light shine upon her.

In the world

In my first media & society class my prof explained the Catholic World View (CWV) as being the 360 degree window in a revolving restaurant. That the CWV encompasses everything we face in the world. Media specifically. He explained that Catholicism sees the world from different angles; that truth is truth, no matter where it's found. And that that truth is God's truth.
I have always had a distaste for the us-and-them attitude some Christians have toward the world. I know it can be a big bad ugly world out there. I know that God's goodness is hard to find sometimes. But rather than throw in the towel and declare the world nonredeemable, and proceed to hide in whatever safe, Christian environment we have chosen for ourselves, why can't we find (seek out/hunt down/pursue) the goodness of God out in that ugly world and make it grow.
It seems Christians all over the place, Evangelical and Catholic alike, say they accept people where they're at. But there's always that caveat that says, as long as "where you're at" is within the walls of this church where we have the control...as long as someone brought you to youth group/church/Sunday school...because hell if I'm going out there to the bars/nightclubs/dungeons where you live and be exposed to your icky sinful lifestyle. Blech!
Would those Christians be the ones yelling at Jesus for speaking to tax collectors and prostitutes?
I prefer to see the true, good and beautiful wherever I can find it. I prefer to press into that line between "in" and "of" and see good things where the people, who are supposed to be salt and light, have stopped looking.