The Gift of The Giver

Every human being knows innately that there is something wrong with the world. We should not suffer, or hurt, or die--but we do. Our world is twisted and wrong.

Within the established society of Lois Lowry's The Giver, the wrongness of the world is simply failed humanity that must be corrected. The way in which they choose to perfect their society, however, is immensely disturbing.

The reader learns right along with Jonas, the 12-year-old protagonist, just how twisted his society has become. It begins with little, suspicious things: they teach "precision of language" in school, but do not have words like "home," "marriage," "baby" or "love." It is quickly apparent that his community is ruled with an iron fist, in a way that prevents any type of diversity or individuality so as to eliminate the possibility of conflict. The teenagers and adults take emotion suppressants that dull anything but surface emotions, effectively eliminating any emotional desire.

Parents are also not allowed to procreate. Adults may apply for a spouse, and after they are matched with another by the governing body of the community, they may apply--after a period of three years--for a child. They are assigned an infant to care for, and they are only allowed one boy and one girl. The birth mothers are artificially inseminated and not allowed to see their children. It is exceedingly important to the rulers of the community that any kind of deep, lasting, emotional attachments are not allowed to form, especially regarding children. For example, when Jonas' father--who cares for newchildren--brings one home to aid its development, "Each family member...had been required to sign a pledge that they would not become attached to this little temporary guest, and that they would relinquish him without protest or appeal when he was assigned to his own family unit" (Lowry 42).

When Jonas becomes the Receiver of Memory, he begins to experience--through memories from The Giver--free will. His first memories are of snow and sun, things he has never experienced in his climate-controlled world. In fact, when he begins to discover color, he and The Giver have a very important exchange: "'It isn't fair that nothing has color!' 'Not fair?' The Giver looked at Jonas curiously...'If everything's the same, there aren't any choices! I want to wake up in the morning and decide things!...I know it's not important, what you wear. It doesn't matter. But--' 'It's the choosing that's important, isn't it?' The Giver asked him" (Lowry 98).

Perhaps most importantly, Jonas learns what it means when the elderly or underdeveloped newchildren are 'released.' This knowledge is so overwhelmingly disgusting to Jonas that he can no longer sit idly by and let it continue. It has been made clear to Jonas that the community exists because, in the distant past, there was an event of apocalyptic proportions, and it could never be allowed to happen again. The solution, Jonas realizes, was to 'fix' humanity by taking away free will.

Jonas is unique in his community because, as the Receiver of Memory, he is the only individual with any experience of free will. Thus, he takes it upon himself to restore free will to at least one person. He is able to do this because The Giver gave him more than just memory--he also gave Jonas the ability to feel deeply. Through The Giver, Jonas has experienced joy, pain, wonder, and injustice. With his experience of these emotions, he is able to develop a conscience and determine the difference between right and wrong.

With the gift he received from The Giver, Jonas is able to save a pure, innocent life and possibly change his community forever.

Lowry, Lois. The Giver.  Bantam Doubleday, 1993.

Celebrating the Christmas Season

How are you celebrating Christmas?

Notice: I asked this question in the present tense. "But it's five days after Christmas!" I hear you say.
My question is valid.

How are you celebrating Christmas?

Now that I'm an adult, I'm still learning about how to celebrate Christmas. This year, one realization really came home to me: we celebrate a Christmas season. Advent and Christmas Day are extremely important, of course, but as a dear blogger friend of mine has pointed out, there are 16 days of the season following the big day.

16 days. That's over two weeks, and we are supposed to be celebrating during that time.

At least, I think we are.

It's a little hard to tell nowadays when Christmas merchandise goes on sale at 80% discounts the day after. Christmas music that has been playing for over a month on the radio disappears as soon as December 26 begins. Lights come off of houses before the year is out.

The party is over, the secular world says. Let's look at New Year's Eve now.

EXCUSE ME.

I'm trying to enjoy a fortnight of liturgical joy, and you want me to cut that short? No.

Society has it all wrong. Everyone seems to think that once the big day comes and goes, it's over. Just like that. If one were to turn this situation into a novel, everyone would hate the ending. There's build-up...anticipation...a climax...and...that's it. No denouement. No explanation of have things have turned out after the excitement is over. No bittersweet parting to journey across the sea with the elves. Nothing.

It makes sense that we should have a fitting ending for our preparation. If a person has prepared for Jesus' birth for four weeks, it's a bit of a letdown to have things end with Christmas Day.

I mean, Jesus is born! We have (hopefully) worked hard to prepare our hearts for His Coming, and He has arrived! Isn't that exciting?

I think it is. In fact, I think we should all take a page out of the books of the Redwall series and celebrate Christmas in a big way. At the end of every Redwall book, the heroes celebrate their victory with a feast. More often than not, the feast lasts three days. Can you imagine three days of eating? I'm not advocating for gluttony, but I think the Redwallers had the right idea. Victory of good over evil is a big deal and worth celebrating for multiple days.

Jesus' birth was also important to the salvation and redemption of the world. We should still be celebrating.

I don't know what the best way is to continue the celebration. Eating special treats is good, but easy to over-indulge in. Maybe some extra prayers, especially of thanksgiving, would be fitting.

I apologize for the rambling post, but I hope you have found something of worth in it.

What Are We Waiting For?

The tagline of Advent is "wait and hope." But why? Human beings are experts at waiting and hoping. Waiting and hoping for that new job, a team win, a positive outcome for Uncle Jeff's surgery, or that God will soon find you a spouse. There are an abundance of things we wait and hope for. So what does it mean during Advent?

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).

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.

 However, perhaps at times it is good to give our vociferous love of our standard favorites a rest and identify some of our more immediate reasons for thanks. With that in mind, I give you a book for which I am particularly grateful this year.

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 will not lie to you. I’ve always been a bit obsessed with Veggie Tales. When asked in 2^nd grade to make a presentation about where I would like to move to if I could, I said Lombard, IL because that was where Big Idea, Veggie Tales’ production company, was located. To this day, my go to cleaning playlist is Silly Songs. I may even have a slight crush on Larry-Boy.

I. Am. That. Hero!

Me, Myself, and Bob was written by Phil Vischer, the co-founder of Big Idea and co-creator of Bob and Larry. It is the tale of an introvert’s struggles in the business world and the rise and downfall of the company that produced what is, in my opinion, one of if not the greatest piece of Christian media in recent times.

From the beginning of this book, I was shocked to discover how deeply I related to Vischer’s struggles, passions, and insecurities. His interest in creative storytelling as a teaching tool, his desire to blaze a trail for wholesome cultural content, and his determination to use both to evangelize are all eerily familiar to me. (In my job as a museum educator, I use artifacts and the art of interpretation to tell stories which equip people to find God in the beauty of the world.)

In his quest to use his creative gifts to evangelize, Vischer was swept up in wild success which led to soul crushing business failure as his company Big Idea went bankrupt in 2003. While this story arc was interesting, horrifying, and heartbreaking, the spiritual lessons drawn out by Vischer were even more captivating.

Vischer relates that after Big Idea failed he felt a deep sense of spiritual loss. After a period of numbness, he turned to prayer and spiritual reading to help reorient his life towards God. In this search he found that he had taken the success of Veggie Tales as a sign of God’s approval and, for 10 years, pushed himself to become the Walt Disney of Christian media. However, he made himself so busy with this mission he had assigned himself that never stopped to ask God if it was what He wanted. Looking back on the whole affair, he wrote:

“I started trusting God more and my dreams less. I realized that I wasn’t the sum of my achievements. I realized God had let my dream die, not because he didn’t love me, but rather because he loved me so much—because I was actually more important to him than any “good work” I could possibly accomplish. I had died, it seemed, and then come back to life. Or, perhaps, come to life for the very first time.”

Wow. How many of us define ourselves by our good works? I know I certainly do. I often measure my spiritual health by counting how many volunteer hours I’ve given and how long I’ve spent in prayer. I often think to myself “I’m doing [good thing] because God would like it” before asking him what HE’D like me to do with that time.

This Thanksgiving, let’s thank God for the special talents he’s given us, ask Him what he really wants, and accept failure gracefully when He sends it our way. If you need some good reading to accompany your tryptophan induced-napping, I would recommend picking up this book...or just watching some Veggie Tales.

Just looking at his picture makes me so happy.

“Remember: God made you special and he loves you very much!”

Nursery Rhymes Are Super Creepy

Did your parents ever read you nursery rhymes as a child? You probably were too absorbed in the pretty pictures and fun rhyming to pay attention to context, especially since, at that age, reading comprehension isn't really a thing. But when you actually pay attention to the words...well, nursery rhymes can get super creepy. Let's examine a few:

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.

Another Top 10 List!

Do you remember a few years ago when a “Top 10 list of books which have stayed with you” was the status that you were most likely to see on your Facebook page? It seemed like everybody jumped on that bandwagon.

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.

Well, today, I’m not going to bring back the “Top 10” list for books. Surprise!

Instead, I’m reworking it for a different type of story – saint stories. As a child, I loved reading about the lives of saints, and their biographies have remained inspirational for me even to the present day. Like books, I think the saints we have found most influential in our lives have a lot to say about who we are. Here are ten saints who have been influential in my life.

1.      Mary – specifically, Our Lady, Undoer of Knots: Besides praying (both before- and after-prayers) before meals (yes…we say both at the same time, before we eat), the only other tradition my family has on a daily basis is saying the Rosary as a family. I’ve found great comfort participating in this Marian devotion on a daily basis. More recently, though, I’ve learned about Our Lady, Undoer of Knots. Even the title fascinates me. When I pray for Mary’s intercession under this title, I ask for her to undo the knots in my life. The knots can be anything from a sin I struggle with to a difficult situation to a confusing relationship, and everything in-between. Visualizing my struggles as knots provides a very concrete way for me to ask Mary for help; and I know Our Lady will help unravel them.

2.      St. Therese of Lisieux: I first encountered “Little T” when I read her autobiography, “Story of a Soul,” in eighth grade. I chose her as my confirmation saint, but I really fell in love with her “Little Way” later in high school and college. I say a novena for her intercession every year and love celebrating her feastday. The struggles Little T faced resonate deeply with those I have experienced in my own life. But, even more encouraging to me, is knowing that I don’t have to become the foundress of an order or a martyr to become a saint (although it would be incredible to be either, in a hard way). I can live a humble, simple life and still become a saint. The tricky part is actually doing it.

3.      St. Augustine: Saint Augustine is not a saint who I would put on my list of “favorites” like Little T (no offence meant, St. Augustine), but he wrote a phrase that has stuck with me throughout the years: “You have formed us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless til they find rest in you.” Sometimes I remember it when I’m praying about something, and sometimes it nudges me when I listen to 80’s rock music (I’m looking at you, U2, cuz you still haven’t found what you’re looking for).

4.      Pope St. John Paull II: Every time I think I’ve reached the next level of Catholic-fan-girl, I find something new to love about JPII. I am grateful to him for many things, including the “Theology of the Body” discussion group that I’ve been a part of for a year and half now. He is inspiring and so brilliant that I ache to be a better person. His example makes me want to be holy. Side note: some of the best memes I've seen on Facebook are of him.

5.      St. Mother Teresa: This is the way I refer to her, whether it is correct or not – I apologize. I read a biography of her life a few years ago and decided that she is the bee’s knees. She set an example for loving everyone we come across. “Love begins by taking care of the closest ones – the ones at home,” she said, and “We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty. We must start in our own homes to remedy this kind of poverty.” It is easy to think I might be holier if I were serving the destitute in the slums of Calcutta, but Mother Teresa reminds me that I have no excuse – I need to be loving and serving the people I see in my own house and in my life every day. Also, I love this quote of hers: “We shall never know all the good that a simple smile can do.”

6.      St. Philomena: This fourteen-year-old virgin martyr is pretty amazing. According to catholic.org, she is the only saint to be canonized based solely on the miracles worked through her intercession – nothing really is known of her from a historical perspective. However, a nun reported that St. Philomena appeared to her in a vision and revealed more information about her mysterious life; she had refused to marry Diocletian, a Roman emperor, and was martyred for it. But she didn’t die after scourging, multiple attempts to shoot her with arrows, and drowning. She did die, however, from beheading. I was captivated by her story as a young teenager, and though my fascination with her has diminished, I still think she is an excellent role model. If such a young woman could face torture and die for her faith, I ought to be courageous, too.

7.      St. Francis de Sales: A friend once sent me a quote of St. Francis de Sales (at least, it’s attributed to him) that she thought I would appreciate. I did appreciate it. “Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them – every day begin the task anew.” I loved it so much that every time I cleared out the texts in my dumbphone, I kept that one. Until I accidentally deleted it, at least. This man actually has many quotable quotes that hit where it hurts because they are spot-on, and his “Introduction to the Devout Life” is a great book to read.

8.      St. Joan of Arc: There was a time in my youth when I was convinced Saint Joan of Arc was going to be my confirmation saint. Her story captivated me – visions of saints, a call from God to lead the troops of France in war. Her bravery, her faith, her death – all spoke to me, a lover of adventure and action. I loved her, and I was very disappointed as a child because my birthday was just shy of landing on her feastday.

9.      St. Thomas Aquinas: This is another saint who is not necessarily a “favorite,” but he has influenced me all the same. I can read his works only piecemeal, but what I have read is extremely solid. He is brilliant. As a person who likes step-by-step instructions or explanations, I can say that his works fit the bill.

10.  Servant of God Father Emil Kapaun: This man is not a saint yet, but he’s on the road to canonization. And, he hails from my part of the country. Born in Pilsen, Kansas, this man served as a chaplain in the Korean War and served his fellow prisoners of war in the prison camp where he eventually died. If you ever get a chance, you should definitely read up on his life. Here, let me help you out. http://fatherkapaun.org/kapaun-contact-us/about-fr-kapaun . Now you have no excuse for not learning more.

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about these amazing saints. I challenge you to think about the ten most influential saints in your life. Let me know!

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?