As my previous post demonstrates, we are exactly the kind of people who should be having more children. Luckily for you, we not only are having another girl, but we honestly truly really still haven’t settled on a name yet. The due date is Feb. 26.
Yarr, I totally forgot that I was supposed to pick a winner, and I totally forgot to mention that dear Rebecca is offering a $15 Starbucks gift card as a prize! I blame the baby.
So, how about if I choose a winner this coming Friday? So please stop by and make a suggestion! The names we’ve already used are:
Lena Mary
Dora Fidelia
Clara Petra
Moses John Paul
Elijah Trinity
Sophia Mercy
Lucy Hope
Irene Penelope
Benedicta Maribel
And in the meantime, if you were moved by the spirit to maybe throw a few dollars my way, I’d be very grateful. Rebecca has a PayPal button on her blog. (Thank you, so much, to all the generous folks who have contributed so far! I have send thank-you notes to everyone using the email address provided by PayPal, so I hope they all went through.) We are set for clothes and diapers, but not so much for the paychecks I’ll be missing while I recover. I get as much maternity leave as my boss thinks the organization can afford. Unfortunately, I am a freelancer, and I’m my own boss, and my human resources policies are downright inhumane. Is outrage! Don’t put up with this kind of shabby treatment of American motherhood! And so on.
I finally got around to taping a note pad to the refrigerator, so people can let me know when we run out of stuff, and I can buy more. So this is what I get:
SALTED butter YES! pencil lead red beans Salted Butler Salted Butt you’re a butt -yes-
And here I thought that butt was the one thing we had plenty of. Also worth noting: some of these items are in my husband’s handwriting.
As massive as the crowds of pro-lifers are at the March for Life, there are even more of us at home, commemorating this dreadful anniversary in various ways.
Backstory: A young woman is going to testify in a civil suit against the Diocese of Baton Rouge. She says that, when she was a girl, she revealed during confession that a member of the parish (who has since died) was molesting her, and that the priest told her she should hush it up.
Every priest who hears something during confession is morally obligated not to reveal what he heard during that confession. So if this woman testifies that he told her not to speak about her abuse, he may neither confirm nor deny that she said what she claims she said, or that he responded the way she says he did; and he may go to jail for refusing to testify.
So the diocese asked the federal Supreme Court to consider their petition to prevent her from testifying about what was said during the confession, and to prevent the priest from being compelled to respond to her testimony. Yesterday, the Supreme Court declined to hear the diocese’s petition.
Can. 983 §1. The sacramental seal is inviolable; therefore it is absolutely forbidden for a confessor to betray in any way a penitent in words or in any manner and for any reason.
If a penitent wishes to discuss something he or she revealed during confession, he or she must have the conversation again, restating the issue outside of the sacrament. That is the only way that a confessor may morally discuss the topic that was confessed: if he hears the information outside of the seal of confession.
The young woman is, of course, still free to have a second conversation with the priest, and the priest would then be free to testify about that second conversation; but what is at issue is what happened in the original conversation, years ago.
Please note that there is no reason to believe that the young woman is lying about what she told the priest or about what he told her. The diocese is not trying to impugn her reputation, and we should not assume that its goal is to protect a guilty priest. The point is that the seal of confession is there to protect both the priest and the penitent. If the seal of confession may be legally violated, it would prove disastrous both for priests and for penitents, who have both always understood that what they say in the confessional is known only to themselves and to God. Jen Fitz explains, with her usual clarity and concision, why the seal of confession is vital for the safety of both the priest and the penitent.
If the woman’s testimony is allowed, then priests will constantly be in danger of having to remain silent in the face of accusations against them. I could make up any dreadful story about what happened inside a confessional, and a priest would not be able to defend himself. They would have to choose between going to jail and endangering their own souls by betraying their vows.
A well-trained confessor can find a way to get help for someone who has been victimized. It is not necessary for anyone’s safety to destroy the long-standing legal respect for the seal of confession.
First, kudos for Erin of Bearing Blog for spurring me to reread the full transcript of the Pope’s recent in-flight remarks. He didn’t precisely say “Catholics shouldn’t be like rabbits” (and he never used the word “breed” at all). What happened was that the reporter asked him what he thought about the idea that so many in the Philippines are poor because of the Church’s ban on contraception. The Pope replied:
God gives you means to be responsible. Some think that — excuse the language — that in order to be good Catholics, we have to be like rabbits. No. Responsible parenthood. This is clear and that is why in the Church there are marriage groups, there are experts in this matter, there are pastors, one can search; and I know so many ways that are licit and that have helped this. You did well to ask me this.
Another curious thing in relation to this is that for the most poor people, a child is a treasure. It is true that you have to be prudent here too, but for them a child is a treasure. Some would say ‘God knows how to help me’ and perhaps some of them are not prudent, this is true. Responsible paternity, but let us also look at the generosity of that father and mother who see a treasure in every child.
So, yes, if you read the entire context, he wasn’t saying, “The Church thinks you shouldn’t be like rabbits.” He was saying, “Some people think the Church teaches this, but it doesn’t.” A subtle distinction, a fairly important one . . . and an unfortunately quotable phase that just screams to be misunderstood.
[W]hile I knew exactly what Pope Francis was actually saying, I still groaned. … Those people who read and listen to the secular press and who already have their own prejudices against Church teaching, will remember and repeat the word “rabbits” like a mantra, while we Catholics will sigh and point out as patiently as possible that that the Church has always taught “responsible parenthood” – and indeed, the Pope mentioned this too, during that hour-long meeting with reporters on his flight home.
What the Holy Father implied was that “responsible parenthood” is what matters, not specific family size. This will be different in each family and with each couple; while the use of artificial contraceptives is intrinsically life-denying it can also be irresponsible to have children thoughtlessly, without regard to issues of health and family circumstances.
But the problem with these remarks, unless they are carefully developed and explained within the context of Catholic teaching, is that they might cause confusion, not only outside the Church but also inside, among faithful families. Yes – people can have large families from selfish motives, just as they can limit their families from selfish motives. But what about large Catholic families, struggling to do what is right in their circumstances and under the normal pressures and demands of family life? They might, wrongly, take the Pope’s remarks personally and worry that they are being profligate and irresponsible. They have taken the biblical words “Go forth and multiply” seriously, at great personal sacrifice. They have already, in our secular society, been dismissed as “breeding like rabbits”; the Pope’s remarks will seem to undermine them, however much this was not intended.
Yup. He wasn’t advocating contraception, and he wasn’t saying small families are better than big families. He said things that are true, but he said them in a way that gives ammunition to people who are sloppy thinkers, or who are unmotivated to find out what the Church really teaches, or who are looking for justification to hate the Pope. Which is just about everybody.
Look, this is our Pope. He’s kind of a blabbermouth, and sooner or later, he’s going to irritate just about everybody. And no, this isn’t the first time he’s said something that makes me go, “Oy.” All the more reason to pick your head up out of the constant stream of gabble in the media from time to time, take a deep breath, and focus on your own family and your own spiritual life, rather than diving headfirst into the outrage du jour. (And yes, that means you might end up reading my blog less. Go ahead, I can take it!)
Anyway, Phillips was nice enough to recommend my book as an antidote to some of the confusion over what the Church actually teaches about family size, and how to balance the seemingly contradictory ideas of responsibility and generosity. I do hope that it helps!
I guess if Catholics want the beautiful teaching of the Church to be better understood by a skeptical world, then it would behoove us to spend our energy, you know, using these dust-ups as an opportunity for sharing and explaining that teaching, rather than constantly bitching about the Pope.
That being said, maybe it’s just my aching tailbone talking, but I’m thirty-six weeks pregnant with baby #10, and something cranky in me wants this to lead off the Pope’s next in-flight movie:
It’s good and natural for parents to want to keep their kids safe, but it’s healthy for the entire family to acknowledge that our main job as parents is to prepare kids for the rest of their lives. A kid who has never learned to judge for himself when it’s safe to cross the street is a kid who is unsafe.
1. I’ve been nominated for two categories in the annual Sheenazing Awards! Bonnie Engstrom’s blogger awards are always fun, and I always discover new and interesting blogs to read. Check it out, and vote for your favorites! Thanks to whoever nominated me!
2. Don’t forget to tune in for Mark Shea’s “Connecting the Dots.” I’ll be co-hosting today, from 5-6:00 Eastern. You can stream the show here. Today is a special day, for today is the first time I typed out “Connecting the Dots” first, rather than “Connecting the Dogs” and then having to correct it.
For goodness’ sake, would it kill you to call in? Someone has to break up me and Mark laughing like hyenas over our own jokes. 1-855-949-1380 We will probably be discussing MLK, Jr. and the prolife movement, why the Pope hates babies and is Satan’s greatest fanboi, and other things along those lines.
“There are good guys out there,” said [one participant]. “Men who will love you like Christ does His Church, men who will not give into their selfish desires, but who will serve women as they are meant to.”
“Men need to overcome their sexual desires,” chimed in another. “That was the main theme of the weekend.”
“Where are the men like St. Joseph?” asked yet another young woman to the nods of her gathered friends.
“The best thing about a conference like this is getting all the answers up front. Now I know exactly what to tell my future husband.”
Check out the scarves in the photo. So many scarves! And man, it takes guts to write satire that most people do not realize is satire. The list of things that should Never Ever Be Giggled About is really so very small; but somehow, Theology of the Body makes the list pretty often. Because there certainly isn’t anything funny about a bunch of earnestly horny teenagers sitting in a circle in the church basement, getting so worked up over the beauty of chastity that it sets off the smoke alarms, not to mention all the young women who really, truly expect that their someday husbands can be educated into being St. Joseph.
Here’s a kind of odd bleg. A few years ago, someone at a greeting card company contacted me, to get permission to quote something I said in a post. I signed the contract, thinking nothing would come of it; but in fact, it’s been a pretty brisk seller. Here’s the card, also available as a magnet (and mug and so on):
I thought of it as a graduation card, but apparently it sells well around mother’s day.
Since this year’s royalty check came within 24 hours of my husband’s car unexpectedly springing a leak and some especially sad news from the bank, I says to myself, “I wonder if they want any more quotes from me?” Turns out they do, hooray!
So I’ll be going through my archives and looking for anything that seems pithy and encouraging, or uplifting, or inspirational, so I can pitch it to them. I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask if you have any ideas. I realize this makes me sound like I think people are just going around quoting me all the time, but I can live with that! You never know what might stick in a person’s head. Thanks.
If you’re new at being pregnant — if this, for instance, only your sixth or seventh child — you probably know how many weeks along you are. You will be able to recite exactly which fetal neurodendons are likely being formed at this moment, and can calculate to the minute how far away your due date is.
If this is, however, your ninth pregnancy or beyond, you take the longer view: all you can really be sure about is whether or not your water has broken yet. Not yet? Okay, then you gotta make supper again, darn it.
For those of us who have long ago abandoned our manuals and our pregnancy journals, here are some helpful tips for identifying whether you are in the third trimester:
1. Being pregnant is all you can think about. Say, for instance, that you’ve agreed to write three posts a week about Catholic culture, politics, liturgy, spirituality, and other matters of general interest to Catholic readers. The first topic that pops into your head is, “Have you seen my FEET?” Then, rather than thinking, “Wait, that doesn’t really have anything to do with Catholicism,” you go ahead and write about it.
2. You have totally relinquished anything like a sense of personal dignity. In theory, you know that you are one of the grande dames of the domestic church, the very mirror of Our Lady, anchor of civilization and hope of the future. But in practice, your one and only goal in life is finding the next bathroom as quickly as possible. There are only so many times you can walk into an exam room, find out how many elephants you could displace in a pool of water, and then let someone – erm, “take a look” at you in an exceptionally personal way, before it starts to take its toll on your avidity for decorum. “Hey,” you will find yourself barking at the guy in the toll booth, “Let’s speed this up! My cervix isn’t getting any less effaced!” He looks at you in a weird way, and you assume this is because HE has a problem.
3. You do an excellent imitation of efficiency, but are about as effective as a blindfolded duck. You make a doctor’s appointment, dream that you cancelled it, wake up and call a slightly baffled receptionist to reschedule, forget to write down the new date, notice the old date on the calendar at the “last minute,” show up ten minutes “late” in a frantic lather, and discover that you’re in the wrong building anyway. And wonder why the sheaves of “You and Your Colostomy” pamphlets in the waiting room didn’t tip you off. So as not to waste a trip, you stop at the supermarket at the way home, and then drop exhausted onto the couch, where you sleep through your real appointment, leaving four gallons of milk rotting in the sun the back of the car.
4. By 4 p.m., your aphasia is almost complete. You start out the day unable to remember nouns. By noon, verb and adjectives are on their way out. But by the time the kids come home from school, and you’re in charge of making sure they pack nutritious lunches, do their chores and homework, take showers, pick out clothes for tomorrow, and hand over all the important papers you’re responsible for as a caring parent, you’re reduced to standing in the middle of the kitchen pointing at their grinning faces and yelling, “You! That! Now, it! Oh, why can’t you!” Even God thinks this is funny.
5. In the immortal words of Lili Von Shtupp : Let’s face it, everything below the waist is kaput.
***
[This post originally ran in the National Catholic Register in 2011, which was the last time I was in the third trimester — during which, unlike this time, I could still come up with two words to rub together.]
![By Ib Rasmussen (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/82/Sakramentskirken_Copenhagen_confessional.jpg){kind=link}
