A comfy home for lovers of Catholicism and fiction.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
What Are We Waiting For?
The answer--like many things in the Church--is simultaneously simple and difficult. We are waiting and hoping for Christ to be reborn in our hearts at Christmas; that's the simple part. But Advent is more than just preparing for Christ to come into our hearts; we must prepare our hearts for him.
The King cannot enter a place unless it has been swept clean and the occupants welcome him with open arms. Just as Mary was made immaculate to receive the King, so must our hearts be scoured in anticipation of his arrival. But which products to use for this spiritual scrubbing?
During Advent, we recall the humility with which Christ entered the world, the faith with which the shepherds and wise men accepted the Good News, the love God showed the world in bestowing upon it his only son, and the hope for Salvation the Christ Child brought with him. The practice of these virtues--humility, faith, hope, and love--which are products of sanctifying grace, are what we use to cleanse our souls and ready our dwelling for Christ. With these, we remove the dirt, we light a lamp in the window, and we dim the noise which surrounds us so that we can hear Jesus say, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any one hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me" (Rev 3:20).
Sunday, November 20, 2016
Literary Thank You's 2016: Me, Myself, and Bob by Phil Vischer
'Tis the season for gratitude. We here at FONAM are perpetually grateful for good reading material and are never shy of expressing our undying devotion to the greats like Jane Austen, JRR Tolkien, and Shakespeare.
Me, Myself, and Bob: A True Story About Dreams, God, and Talking Vegetables by Phil Vischer
I never found out why it was called "Me, Myself, and Bob". I'm a little sad. |
I. Am. That. Hero! |
Just looking at his picture makes me so happy. |
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Nursery Rhymes Are Super Creepy
Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater
Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater,
Had a wife and couldn't keep her.
He put her in a pumpkin shell,
And there he kept her very well.
So basically, a dude named Peter can't control his unfaithful wife. Simple enough. But then we get to the last two lines, which can be interpreted in two ways: either A) Peter imprisons his wife in a pumpkin shell, or B) he kills her and buries her inside the pumpkin. Either way, incredibly disturbing. Moving right along...
Ring Around the Rosy
Ring around the rosy,
A pocket full of posies.
Ashes! Ashes!
They all fall down.
This innocent children's rhyme (with accompanying dance) is often interpreted as being about the plague. Yep, plague. The first line is meant to refer to the red sores or rashes victims developed, and posies refer to an herbal remedy--given the time period, I'm inclined to guess poppies, from which opium is derived and which was frequently used as a painkiller. The third & fourth lines refer to the way victims, just before death, took on an ashy pallor and, you know, died. There is some debate as to whether or not this poem is truly a plague reference, given that it didn't pop up until the 1800s--a few hundred years after the plagues. But who's to say it wasn't developed as an historical reference? The next rhyme, too, contains historical references, albeit somewhat murkier.
Georgie Porgie
Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry.
When the boys came out to play,
Georgie Porgie ran away.
This rhyme carries several interpretations, one of the most popular (and scandalous) being a reference to George Villiers, First Duke of Buckingham, and his...ahem...intimate relationship with King Charles I. However, there is no evidence to substantiate the claims of this rumor, so I must leave you to draw your own conclusions.
There is also a theory that the poem references the Great Fire of London, which started in Pudding Lane and reportedly finished at Pye Corner. In this interpretation, the "boys" appear to be the firefighters hurrying to douse the flames, and Georgie Porgie is the arsonist running from the possibility of being caught. I personally do not favor this theory, because (unless some really creative interpretation happened) the second line would make no sense. In any case, my point still stands: disturbing sexual encounters or arson = both creepy.
There are plenty of nursery rhymes that are completely innocent, but there are many other, older ones--such as the ones listed above--that really send a shiver up your spine. I wonder who the authors were, and what possessed them to conceive such morbid poetry.
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
Another Top 10 List!
And it was a good bandwagon. As a communication undergrad, I learned that stories are a great medium for communication, and I think that the stories we value most have a lot to say about us.
Monday, November 14, 2016
Prayers of Thanksgiving
On the way to Jerusalem [Jesus] was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices and said, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us." When he saw them he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the priests." And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then said Jesus, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" And he said to him, "Rise and go on your way; your faith has made you well." Lk 17:11-19
There are four main types of prayer: Adoration, Contrition, Thanksgiving, and Supplication (Petition). The focus in the Gospel above is on two: Supplication and Thanksgiving. All ten of the lepers cry out to Jesus in supplication, asking for his mercy. This is wonderful--God explicitly tells us to ask him for things when we pray (Mt 7:7). However, that's not all we need to do: the one leper that returns shows us it is equally important for us to thank God for the gifts he gives us.
We would not even have the ability to ask God for things if he had not given it to us--a gift for which he deserves our utmost thanks. Asking God for something and then not thanking him for it is like the story of the man who lost his keys: he looked everywhere and couldn't find them. He was about to be late for work, so he got on his knees and begged God to help him. "God, If you help me find my keys, I promise I'll never yell at another driver again!" The man got up and grabbed his coat, running out to the garage for a second look. As he stepped out, his foot slipped on something. He bent down and picked up his keys. He said, "Oh, never mind, God! I found them!"
Every single thing we could possibly think of is a gift from God, and with each new day he heaps upon us new gifts, if we choose to accept them. We always thank others when they give us a gift; is it not logical, then, to unceasingly thank the person who never stops giving?