Author: simchajfisher

Looking for a truly wonderful Holy Week and Easter book for kids? The best I’ve seen is Maite Roche’s My First Pictures of Easter from Ignatius.  

The “My First Pictures” series have only a little text, and they allow the parent and reader to spend as much or as little time as they like talking about the pictures. At first glance, the illustrations seem merely pleasant, but when you look closer, they are actually small icons — rich, glowing, windows into a inviting world of love.

[img attachment=”92045″ align=”aligncenter” size=”full” alt=”roche 2″ /]

They are a wonderful combination of sweetness, simplicity, and depth.

The book begins on Palm Sunday, shows the Last Supper, the Carrying of the Cross, Jesus dying on the cross, Jesus in the tomb, and the resurrection, and also an Easter Mass with the lighting of the Paschal candle:

[img attachment=”92046″ align=”aligncenter” size=”full” alt=”roche 1″ /]
Excuse the dings and bite marks! You can see that this is a well-loved book.

The “My First” books by Maite Roche includes My First Bedtime Prayers, My First Prayers for My Family, My First Prayers with Mary, My First Pictures of Mary, and My First Pictures of Jesus, all of which are lovely, meaningful books for young children.

I understand the instinctive dislike of the word “dialogue.” I really do. It sounds like felt banners and burlap vestments and liturgical silliness. Well, get over it! We’re adults, and we can think past our first visceral response. It is childish and incestuously vain to imagine that dialogue, as an idea, has no place in Catholicism. My friends, when I go into the confessional and tell Jesus my sins, and He tells me, “I forgive you,” that is dialogue. Dialogue just means making contact. We are all in need of contact with God — and, with very few exceptions, God comes to us through the mediation of other people.

Read the rest at the Register.

You know what’s been on my list forever? Finally trying Magnificat. I’ve heard nothing but good about this spiritual guide (which, incidentally, is published by the same lovely folks who bring you Aleteia). Magnificat is a monthly booklet mailed to you, and also come in digital form — and I have two coupon codes for the latter.

Each day includes:

LITURGY – daily Mass prayers and Scripture readings
PRAYER – a cycle of prayers for morning, evening, and night inspired by the Liturgy of the Hours
MEDITATION – spiritual reflections for each day of Lent

Other unique features include:

ESSAYS – to enlighten , inspire, and deepen your relationship with God
POETRY – capturing the spirit of the season
PENANCE SERVICE – to prepare well for your Lenten confession
DEVOTIONAL PRAYERS – for various occasions and growing in faith
CHANTS – for Lent and Easter… listen while you read and pray

I know we’re already well into Lent, but it’s definitely not too late to get to know Magnificat. To enter, use the Rafflecopter form (or click on the link, if the form doesn’t show up) below. I’ll choose two names at random, and will announce the winners Wednesday afternoon.

Good luck!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js

Not that you asked, but

I’m reading . . . 

The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work by John M. Gottman

[img attachment=”91659″ align=”aligncenter” size=”full” alt=”seven principles marriage” /]

As an incurable fiction reader, this is probably about as close as I’m going to get to spiritual reading for Lent. It’s not religious at all, but it is encouraging a lot of self-examination. I’m only about 75 pages in, but am finding it a very refreshing, practical, and humane take on love. For instance, in the first chapter, he lists some of the common myths about marriage, including the myth that “neurosis or personality problems ruin marriages.” He says:

…We all have issues we’re not totally rational about. We call these triggers “enduring vulnerabilities” . . . They don’t necessarily interfere with marriage if you learn to recognize and avoid activating them in each other.  . . . If you can accommodate each other’s “crazy” side and handle it with caring, affection, and respect, your marriage can thrive.

Like a lot of the passages in this book, it’s not a mind-blowingly new idea, but it’s a refreshing contrast to the flood of bad and selfish ideas about what it means to be in an adult relationship. A lot of people seem to believe that you have to get to the root of every conflict, or communicate your way into resolving everything, or stand your ground and refuse to budge every time your spouse has some microaggressive habit. That’s no way to live!

The author is a professor of psychology and has been a marriage therapist and researcher for several decades, and the book includes a bunch of quizzes and exercises you can do with your spouse to assess and improve your relationship. I’ll let you know, as I continue to read, if I find anything that’s a deal breaker in this book! In the meantime, I recommend it. Thanks to my sister Rosie for discovering this title.

***

I’m watching . . .

Curb Your Enthusiasm on Amazon Prime streaming. Definitely not appropriate for Lent, and actually kind of a live-action demonstration of how not to make your marriage (or any relationship) work. Full of awful people and very bad language (and lots of improv). But gosh, it’s funny in small doses. Larry David, who co-created and was head writer of Seinfeld, plays a pettier, more clueless version of himself. In every episode, he falls afoul of completely unreasonable people and manages to get blamed for something totally unjust, and yet somehow he always brought it on himself.

Well, after ten minutes of searching for a video clip I can reasonably share on Aleteia, I give up. Never mind!

***

I’m listening to . . . 

The Louvin Brothers are known for their close harmonies, but in “Almost Persuaded,” the solo voice slays me:

Seems about right for the second week of Lent.

***
How about you? Any discoveries, old favorites, or guilty pleasures to share?

Here we are, first Friday in Lent. Who wants to talk about food that we all gave up on social media that we’re all cutting back on?

See, this is why I earn the big bucks. Strategery!

SATURDAY
PORK RIBS, ROLLITOS(?), SALAD

Oven roasted pork ribs. They’re greasily delicious! Out of respect for the season, I have altered the image to accommodate your pansy self so you won’t be tempted:

[img attachment=”91297″ align=”aligncenter” size=”full” alt=”lucy pork rib” /]

Oh, that’s just weird. Here’s a clearer picture:

[img attachment=”91298″ align=”aligncenter” size=”full” alt=”elijah ribs” /]

SUNDAY
FANCYBURGERS; CHIPS and DIP; VEGETABLES MAYBE

I guess this was the Superbowl? It seems like soooo long ago. We got some more of that fancy pants grass-fed beef as a thank-you for driving the cattle farm girl to school, and had burgers with Colby jack cheese and fried onions. Good schtuff.

MONDAY
PIZZA

Two pepperoni, two plain

[img attachment=”91299″ align=”aligncenter” size=”full” alt=”pizza lent” /]

Is it possible that I’m the only one who thinks this is funny? TOO BAD.

TUESDAY
PANCAKES and BACON; DUNKIN’ DONUTS

Tuesday is my Day of Great Suffering. There’s just no end of unpleasant things that have to get done on Tuesday, and then of course we had to vote, which was a giant, foul cherry on top of a sundae of suckitude. We didn’t get home until nearly 6:30, and then it was time to CELEBRATE.

It was at 5:30 that I suddenly realized Benny never really got lunch. So we got donuts. Not a Mardi Gras tradition, just some terrible mothering.

ASH WEDNESDAY
SPAGHETTI, GARLIC BREAD, SALAD

I am so ashamed of how much spaghetti and garlic bread I ate. So ashamed. I was reasonable about the salad, though. *pat pat*

THURSDAY
Korean pork with bamboo shoots and asparagus; white rice

Yep, that was the whole justification for the title: We had asparagus during Lent.

I bought a shit ton of pork without any clear plan, because it was 99 cents a pound. Grabbed a pound of asparagus because it was also on sale. Then we ran out of coffee, and when I was at the store, they had bamboo shoots on sale.

Then it hit me. THIS COULD ALL BE A THING. I sliced the pork up thinnish, and made a quadruple recipe of the sauce for the Korean Beef Bowl from Damn Delicious I made last week. Here’s the sauce:

• 1/3 cup brown sugar, packed
• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon sesame oil (couldn’t find it; used veg oil)
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red-pepper flakes, or more to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 3 cloves garlic, minced

I let the pork marinate in the sauce all day, then browned it up and added the bamboo shoots and chopped-up asparagus in the last few minutes. Sure enough, it was a thing!  A very, very nice thing.  This sauce is so tasty and easy, I want to take it behind the junior high and get it pregnant.

Check here if you’re still reading:  _____ yes ______ no

If so, the following picture will not affright you:

[img attachment=”91300″ align=”aligncenter” size=”full” alt=”marinating pork” /]

Ha ha! Aren’t you glad you’re Catholic? Lent is awesome.

FRIDAY

Tuna sandwiches.

Do you have any idea how late I’m running today?

Oh, you could tell? Fine. Asparagus!

“If he says it’s the right thing to do, it’s the right thing to do.” That was my comment on Facebook three years ago yesterday, when the world first heard that Papa Benedict was retiring. Like so many other Catholics, I was baffled and troubled, but I made an act of will to trust this eminently trustworthy shepherd.

John Allen reminds us of the profound humility of his choice, saying:

Benedict was the first pope to renounce his powers, not in the teeth of schism, foreign armies, or internal power struggles, but rather as the result of an honest self-examination that he simply wasn’t up to the demands of the office any longer.

Allen shares some little-known facts about the way Benedict behaved during his papacy, and reminds us that this humility was no departure from the norm for Benedict, but was in fact the hallmark of this holy man’s eight years as Pope.

Elise Harris reports for CNA that the way he left office should not be allowed to overshadow his true achievements. Harris says that Vatican journalist Marco Mancini’s book about Benedict’s papacy describes

how Benedict XVI fought against scourges in the Church and in society such as the growing presence of relativism, the economic crisis, pedophilia, increasing global hostility toward Christians and the first “Vatileaks” scandal.

…

“Financial transparency and pedophilia are the two pillars of the process of reform that Benedict set up in the Church. He started,” Mancini said.

Did you know that? Did you know that Benedict was the first to take strenuous action against the Church’s shameful cover-up of sex abuse by clergy?

The standard story you’ll hear, instead, is that Benedict XVI spent most of his time in office covering for pedophile priests, and doing everything he could to prevent them from being brought to justice.  Here‘s a standard comment I got in one of my comboxes when I mentioned Benedict’s name:

[T]he practice of protecting pedophiles was a formal written policy of the church. It came directly from then-Cardinal Ratzinger and was backed by a threat of excommunication.

The commenter linked to a piece from The Guardian from 2005, with the headline:  Pope ‘Obstructed’ Sex Abuse Inquiry.

Did he,  now?

Remember, that story is from 2005.  Now, let’s read this post from 2010, in which Steven Kellmeyer drills down into the actual numbers of abuse victims in the Church, and finds what everyone should already know:  that your children are and always have been safer with priests than with teachers, safer with priests than with Muslim imams, far safer with priests than with the male population as a whole.

But here’s the fascinating part.  Kellmeyer reprints a chart from the John Jay Report on annual totals of accused priests and incidents of sexual abuse reported by year, from 1950 to 2005:

Horrible numbers.  But look at the shape of that chart.  Kellmeyer says:

Do you notice anything interesting? Do you see how that red line (number of cases) and that blue line (number of priests committing abuse) both begin a REALLY rapid descent? Well, if you look closely at the year when that rapid fall begins, that year would be 1981 – two years after John Paul II is elected Pope and the same year Ratzinger is picked to head the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.

Even though the CDF won’t streamline the process and gain sole jurisdiction over abuse cases until 2001, the chart shows that the minute Ratzinger became the head of CDF, someone, somewhere started shutting these abusive priests down. By 1995, most of the rat holes had been closed.

The press didn’t pick up on what was going on until AFTER Ratzinger or one of his confreres had already finished most of the work.

Awfully strange behavior for a fellow who was so devoted to hiding and protecting pedophiles.  Did the Church hang back until the press held its feet to the fire?  Clearly not.  As soon as he had the authority, Benedict worked strenuously to rid the Church of the horrible scourge of sexual abuse; and the parishes who were guilty of shuffling offenders around were working in contradiction of his policies.

It’s hard to argue with numbers. Benedict’s legacy is a legacy of reform.

The question we face now is, will Ratzinger’s legacy be squandered? In 2015, the Vatican released the new statutes from the Vatican Commission for the Protection of Minors, which was formed by Pope Francis and is headed by Cardinal Sean P. O’Malley. The guidelines are in effect until 2018, and then they will be reevaluated and improved if necessary. So far, so good . . . if Pope Francis’ work is not impeded.

Benedict XVI knew only too well that reform is never welcome, and that the Church can be its own worst enemy. As we remember Benedict XVI’s papacy with love and gratitude, let’s pray that that bureaucracy and blindness will not hobble his good work that Francis is striving to carry forward.

***

A portion of this post was first published, in a slightly different form, at the National Catholic Register in 2014.

Once again, the Church’s response to sexual abuse is in the news, and once again, it’s hard to tell how accurate the reports are.

Once again, they don’t sound great. The level-headed and thorough John Allen at Crux says that newly-appointed bishops took a training course from the Vatican, but that

the Pontifical Commission for the Protection of Minors, the body created by Pope Francis to identify “best practices” in the fight against child abuse, was not involved in the training.

Allen says that the new bishops instead got a presentation from Tony Anatrella, a French monsignor and psychotherapist, and that Anatrella

argued that bishops have no duty to report allegations to the police, which he says is up to victims and their families.

Allen says:

It’s a legalistic take on a critical issue, one which has brought only trouble for the Church and its leaders. Why, one wonders, was it part of a training session?

Most basically, canonical procedures kick in only after abuse has been alleged. Presumably the goal ought to be to stop those crimes from happening, and in that regard it’s striking that Anatrella devoted just a few paragraphs to abuse prevention, using abstract language without concrete examples.

Allen says he consulted Monsignor Stephen Rossetti, “who’s on the board of the Rome-based Gregorian University’s Centre for Child Protection,” about what new Bishops need to know, and Rossetti told him they should know:

1.  “How to deal with victims, because it’s not intuitively obvious.”
2.  “They have to know the canonical material.”
3. “What the red flags [for abuse] are … It’s important to be concrete, giving scenarios and talking out what an effective response looks like.”
4. “How to deal with accused priests … including the risk of recidivism, as well as how to show charity without enabling abusive behavior.”
5.  Abuse prevention resources: “We don’t have to start from scratch. There are effective programs available right now.”

Judging by the published papers, only the second point figured prominently in the “baby bishops” program last year.

My first impulse, on reading things like this, is to start screaming and throwing things. But Jen Fitz, also a thorough and level-headed person, has a more useful response, which can’t be shared often enough. Fitz says:

Reporting on religion is notoriously unreliable, and I’m in no position to confirm or clarify these reports.  But whenever such nonsense gets promulgated, I’m here to remind you: Tell the police.

That’s right. Don’t wait for things to go through the proper channels, don’t wait for the system to catch up, don’t wait and see.

I’m trying really hard to remember that these are just initial reports, and that it’s possible there’s a whole other batch of information about what the bishops are learning, and these early stories are not accurate. But I also feel like the Church has thoroughly earned my pessimism about the whole issue.

Anyway. All I can do is remember and pass along Fitz’s excellent advice:

It is not your job to be investigator, judge, and jury.  If someone’s in immediate danger, of course you’ll dial 911.  When that’s not the case? Pick up the phone, call the city or county police office during business hours, and make arrangements to file the appropriate report.  It’s okay to call and say, “I’m not even sure a crime took place, but –.”  The police are used to getting these calls.  It is their job to sort through the information and figure out how to proceed.

If it makes you more comfortable, first describe what you know about the possible crime, and wait to name the perpetrator until you’ve determined the action was in fact criminal.  But call the police.  Not your friend who’s a cop, not your neighbor, not the lady at church whose kid is going to the police academy.  Call your police station, and make an official report.  Even if the particular incident is not one that will result in a conviction, it can become part of a collection of evidence that paints the complete picture.

If it’s going to be up to laymen, it’s going to be up to laymen. Please read the rest of Fitz’s short essay from Amazing Catechists.

Naturally, her commonsense advice applies any time you suspect abuse by anyone, priest or otherwise. (Catholic priests abuse children at a lower rate than males in the general population.) Get the ball rolling. Make things different from the horrible way they have been. If you have reason to be concerned, then you have a serious obligation to talk to the police. Don’t wait for someone else to do the right thing.

***
2/12/16 Thanks to comments from a few readers, I realized that I used the wrong link in the paragraph above. Mea culpa! I had a lot of tabs open and grabbed the wrong one. I originally linked to a Newsweek story which claimed that Catholic priests abuse at the same rate as the rest of the male population. The new link, above, is to the John Jay report, which reports abuse by priests at a lower rate than the rest of the male population.)

Like most lifelong Catholics, my husband and I have no idea what the rules of fasting are, so we have to look it up every year. And every year, I tell my husband, “Well, gosh, that’s how you eat every day anyway.” This is why he is within a single stomach virus’ distance of fitting into the pants he got married in 18 years ago, while I . . . well, let’s just say that marriage is an opportunity for growth, and I have not squandered that opportunity. No, indeedbaconator, I have not.

So, since he didn’t ask for it, I started to give my husband advice for how to observe Ash Wednesday. In case you’re in a similar position, here are some ways to make your husband miserable help your husband draw closer to Christ, which is your job:

1. Keep it spirituelle. Complain incessantly about all the things that make it especially hard for housewives to fast, like having to be around food all day, and being hungrier than most people anyway because your attitudes toward food and hunger and body image are all out of whack because of all the sacrifices of pregnancy and childbirth you’ve made throughout your married life. I mean, I don’t even know when I’m hungry anymore, you know? I can’t tell if I’m actually hungry, or just frustrated with how frustrating my life is, or if my body is telling my I’m deficient in something, because I’m so depleted, or what!

Then when he sympathetically suggests that you might go easy on yourself because of your state in life, give him a pitying look and murmur in a Holy Spirit kind of voice, “I don’t know, that just seems kind of . . . contrary to the spirit of the season, you know?”

2. Practice catecheticriticism. This is when you send a message to an adult in the next room by way of instructing children who are in front of you. Like so: “And so, kids, there are a lot of ways you can show God that you are sorry for your sins. Giving up Minecraft or candy OR OLD CROW is good, but you could also do things, like keeping your room clean or BRINGING THAT RIDICULOUS BROKEN DISHWASHER TO THE DUMP ALREADY or sharing your toys. These are all good things to do for Lent, and here is a nice coloring page of the stations of the cross, because I GUESS I HAVE TO BE THE SPIRITUAL HEAD OF THE FAMILY SINCE NO ONE ELSE IS STEPPING UP. Here are some crayons.”

3. Cry, and refuse to say why, because it’s nothing, just nothing. This one isn’t specific to Lent. It’s just pretty much the worst thing you can do to a guy.

4. If he persists in his concern, admit that you’ve just been feeling low lately, that’s all, and it would just be nice to get away from these same four walls and this kitchen and these kids and just feel like a woman, you know? Just for one time. Then when he reminds you that he asked you five times if you wanted to go out, say, “Oh, I know, I know, but it’s Lent . . .”

5. Complain about female bloggers who talk about fasting when they really mean dieting, and how sick it is that, in society today, all we care about is women’s bodies, and what about their souls? Talk about Cosmo, armpit airbrushing, and how much the actresses in Star Wars got paid. Go into your room to be alone and pray for a while. When he comes in to search for the socks you claim there are plenty of in his drawer if he would just look, let him find you standing there, just gazing at that clingy red sundress you wore to your friend’s wedding two decades ago, back when you considered ice cubes an indulgent snack. Just gazing at it. Then say, “You know, in the Middle Ages, they fasted all the time, all through Lent. Did you know that? Ugh, we’re such wimps nowadays. People really were holier then. Society today really makes me sick.”

Hey, only 39 more days to go, guys.

Now that I’m the adult authority bossing myself around, and telling myself to do this and don’t do that, and now that I deliberately make the choice to put myself under obedience to the Church, it’s easier to see the connection between love and obligation. When I’m the authority figure, it behooves me to make sure I’m giving orders out of love, and not just because I can. By the same token, when I’m the position of offering obedience, it behooves me to make sure I’m obeying out of love, and not just because I have to.

Read the rest at the Register.