The best kind of controversy

A few weeks ago, on Wednesday, I encountered a woman holding a sign that said “JESUS SAVES U”.  I was encouraged when she first asked me if she should try to “prick the conscious of a cold-blooded murderer.”  When I said yes, she asked how I felt about abortion.  She was surprised to find that I was pro-life, and proceeded to inform me that there are two abortion clinics in the area.  

“Well, let’s pray about it!” I said.

She nodded, and invited me to pray right there.  But after I had made the sign of the cross, she interrupted me.  “Are you Catholic?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am.  I’m on my way to Mass right now!”

“Oh, you should read the King James Bible.  The reasons I disagree with the Catholic church are that y’all pray to the saints and to Mary, and thou shalt call no man ‘father’ except the Lord.  The Bible don’t say anything about popes or priests or anything like that.”  I said that prayers to saints are really just asking the to pray for us and with us, just as she had asked me to pray with her.  She listened, but she wasn’t really interested in a dialogue at that moment, and she pretty quickly transitioned into a prayer.  Extending her hands over me, she prayed, “Dear Lord God, please increase this child’s knowledge of Your truth.  She is a religious girl, she is seeking You, she is going to Mass in the middle of the day.  I ask you to bless her and help her to feel Your presence today.  Increase her faith and her knowledge of You, Lord God!”

As she prayed over me, I got goosebumps all over and I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit around us.  “Thank you so much,” I said when she was finished.  “God bless you!”

“I can’t accept your blessing because I don’t believe in your God, but have a great day!  And read the King James Bible,” she said, smiling.

All of the complaints she listed to me about the Catholic faith centered around her concern that we give too much glory to people and not enough to God Himself.  Although I believe she is misinformed about Catholic theology, this is exactly the right concern.  In the Catholic faith, we pray to saints, and for Heaven’s sake we worship the flesh and blood of Jesus in the form of bread and wine.  It is either exactly correct—or it’s idolatry.  And idolatry is, I think, God’s greatest concern.  He spends significant portions of the Old Testament fighting to keep the hearts of His chosen people, but they keep betraying Him and worshipping other gods, starting new churches, and doing things their own ways instead of having faith in His ways.

UPDATE:  My dear friend Zach has corrected my italicized words about the Eucharist—indeed, we are worshipping the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ present in the bread and wine!  And thank you, Zach, for providing a Biblical reference to explain this correction:  1 Cor. 14-22.

The Catholic faith is either the closest thing to the Truth that you can find on earth, or it is absolutely spiritually dangerous!  There is no middle ground.  What we do at Mass should be very controversial.  We believe that through transubstantiation, the soul of Jesus becomes present to us in bread and wine in the same way that it was present when He was walking around on earth 2000 years ago.  If it is, we're encountering God physically—for real!  If it's not, then we're treating something that isn't God like it is God.  Either one is a big deal.

Just as Jesus Himself is either God or the devil.  Again, there is no middle ground.  He can’t just be a “nice guy”.  Not if we take the Bible at its word for what He said and did.  He performed supernatural healings and instructed His followers to give their entire lives, their very souls to Him—to put Him as a priority even above their families and friends.  Nobody should ask us to do that except God, so anyone else who does is speaking with the voice of the devil.

Peter Kreeft describes this very well in his book Jesus Shock.  It’s a short book about how it should be impossible to be “neutral” about Jesus Christ.  Almost everything He does and says is absolutely shocking and controversial.  It’s a message I think our non-confrontational world needs to hear.  

That’s not to say that everyone needs to have such extreme love/hate reactions to Catholics and/or Christians as people—just our dogma.  The woman who prayed over me clearly loved me.  She also acknowledged that I was seeking God’s love.  She believed she was providing me with important discipline that would help my relationship with Him to grow.  And she did this without being patronizing or rude.  She condemned the practices of my faith, but she did not condemn me.  In fact, she encouraged me!

This amazing, Godly woman was able to communicate in loving words that she believed that my faith was spiritually dangerous.  We need more people like that in this world!

Sweet Tea

One of my sisters lived in Tennessee for a few years, and she warned me about Southerners and their sweet tea.  In fact, sometimes when she'd order tea at restaurants, the server would ask, "sweetened or...unsweetened?", clearly horrified that the latter option even existed.  Her friends thought it was weird that Northerners drink tea unsweetened.  Sometimes regular tea is referred to as "unsweetened sweet tea."  Here, sweet is an essential element of tea.

Southerners are very serious about their sweet tea, Texans no exception.  When they say "sweet tea", they say it casually, as if the word "sweet" was just an adjective.  So you can imagine my surprise when I ordered a sweet tea at a fast food restaurant and took a sip—it must have had like a bajillion sugar cubes dumped into it.  It was almost viscous because of the sugar.

It was kindof delicious.

When I visit my awesome friends in Fort Worth, they serve sweet tea of a similar (if slightly less intense) nature.  Much to the kids' delight, a little caffeine plus boatloads of sugar is certainly a great recipe for keeping me awake and hyper.

To all you people out there who drink normal tea, allow me to translate:  when Southerners say "sweet tea", they really mean "sweet—with some tea inside".

Hey, you guys!

"Do you guys want to watch some Dr. Who this weekend?" I said before class last Thursday.
"You guys?" my friend laughed, mocking my turn of phrase.  "You're not from around here!"

Naturally, one of my biggest fears is that now that I've moved to Texas, my second-person-plural pronoun will change.  I'm sure this is everyone's greatest concern when they move somewhere with a dialect different from their own.  Right?

I actually already use both the east coast "you guys" and the southern "y'all", thanks to my mother, who grew up in Chicago (long story).  "Y'all" is a useful pronoun, and it sounds nice!  I feel very uncomfortable using "you" to refer to a group of people, even in formal writing—but "you guys" sounds just informal enough that sometimes I substitute "you all" or "y'all".  In fact, sometimes I use both "you guys" and "y'all" in the same sentence.  I know, it's weird.

But I can't give up "you guys" entirely!  Just because I'm moving to Texas doesn't mean I have to re-define my linguistic identity.  So I have a goal to keep "you guys" in my vocabulary.  You guys, dear readers, can keep tabs on me.  If there isn't enough "you guys" in this blog in the future, call me out on it!

I also figure that during my time in Texas, my vowels are going to shift.  Not drastically, because my brain isn't as plastic as it used to be—but enough that people might notice.  It's only natural to pick up the speech patterns of those around you, and my accent already has a tendency to shift just a little when I'm around someone with a strong midwestern accent—so let's hope Texas doesn't similarly corrupt my beautiful Maryland vowels.  (Just kidding—actually, I think southern accents are quite beautiful.)

In this way, I am like a Hobbit.  According to Tolkien in Appendix F after the Return of the King, hobbits like Frodo (and wizards like Gandalf and dudes like Aragorn) are prone to adapt their speech patterns to those around them.  I'm not as excellent at this as Frodo and Sam, but I do adapt to some extent, sometimes on purpose and sometimes without realizing.  Often, I pick up phrases or words, or even intonation patterns.  In undergrad, one of my roommates used to sometimes randomly sing instead of speaking—thus, our room sometimes turned into a strange, whimsical musical.  So it would be no surprise if Texan speech patterns are a bit contagious for me.

Let's just hope that I never say the word "milk" with five vowel sounds, as some southerners are wont to do.  It might be a little hard to understand me if it comes to that.

¡Felicidades al Grupo de Jovenes de Santo Tomás de Aquino!

This Saturday, the totally awesome youth group of Santo Tomás de Aquino in Los Tres Brazos celebrates its first anniversary!  I was blessed to be included in many of their devious adventures during my time in the Dominican Republic—including the Noche Cultural (a variety show of sorts), cleaning the church grounds, rosary pray-ins throughout town, many faith-building sessions, and even a retreat.

These absolutely inspiring teenagers started this really awesome youth group about when I arrived with my Coboss in the Dominican Republic last year.  (She is my Co-boss because between the two of us, we are a total boss!)  Co-boss and I got pretty involved with the leadership team, but really we played supporting roles.  The youths themselves do all of the organizing, fundraising, outreach, and planning.  It is quite the undertaking.  You should check out their website (it's even cooler if you know Spanish):

Sitio de web del Grupo de Jovenes STA

The grupo is totally devoted to serving the Lord together in everything they do.  Even if they're meeting for dinner, they begin and end with prayer.  From them, I am learning a lot about what it's like to be part of a community whose energy stems from Jesus.  When your love for each other comes from God Himself, you can't help but be positive and build each other up—and share that love with everyone you meet.  The friendship they—we—share is something really special.

"For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”  Matthew 18:20 (NRSV)

Growing up, I didn't believe having a faith community was important.  Going to public school as a Catholic on the East Coast, I had never really experienced it.  I knew I wanted to love Jesus, but I didn't know anyone else my age in my church who felt that way.  At school, I had a couple of Christian friends, but most of my friends were from other faith backgrounds and/or atheist/agnostic.  All of my friends challenged—and continue to challenge—me to be a better person every day.  I was (am) so blessed to have such wonderful friends!  

In middle school, I joined the contemporary music group at my parish.  Most of the people in the group were my parents' age or older, so I gained a lot of spiritual mothers and fathers—but I still didn’t have many Catholic friends my age, and as for the ones I’d found, I didn’t know how to share my faith with them.  

I thought God was calling me to be a lone wolf.  Even with my Christian friends, our discussions often became theological debates.  I was always on defense—which definitely increased my knowledge and critical thinking.  In fact, that helped me to explore my faith and really discern that I believe the Catholic Church is the truest way to the heart of God.

But sometimes it's lonely being Catholic.

When I lived in Ghana, everything changed.  Everyone I met in Ghana believed in Onyame (God), whether they were Christian, Muslim, or pagan.  And unlike in the United States, the stereotypical Catholic in Ghana is quite in love with Jesus; they dance the most at church.  It was there that I got involved in my first youth group at St. Francis Xavier parish in Asokore Mampong.  Sharing my faith helped it to grow in ways I didn’t know it could!

I finally realized that I have a global community.  All over the world, Catholics share in the Body of Christ and the Holy Word together—united in prayer, united in love, united in Christ.  Can you think of anything less lonely than that?

The Grupo de Jovenes at Santo Tomás de Aquino was the next faith community I experienced—a fresh new group built up because the youths there yearned for community.  There had been another youth group in days gone by, but everyone in that group was rather grown up already.  So this new leadership team started things up again!  And they are spreading God's love wherever they go.  

When I returned to the United States, I was hungry to participate in a faith community again.  By God’s grace, I found Christlife, an awesome group of Catholics who really love the Lord.  Christlife's youth community meets at the Shrine of Saint Anthony in MD every week to do praise/worship and discussion, and there are also spinoff men’s and women’s groups.  They are absolutely devoted to Jesus.  That's why they do such amazing ministry, inviting everyone they meet to share in the joy that is the love of God.  They have been a major blessing in my life too—and they're one of my lifelines even while I’m here in Texas!

Check out Christlife's website!

Additionally, God has continued to bless me with friends from all sorts of faith backgrounds with many different perspectives and ideas.  What a lucky girl I am!

Thank God for amazing friendships that draw us ever closer to His love.

¡Y felicidades al Grupo de Jovenes de Santo Tomás de Aquino!  Les extraño a toditos, y nos estamos todavía reunidos en la oración.

Dancin' the Texas two-step

First of all, thank you all so much for praying with me for Syria.  Let's continue to pray that the leaders of all nations make decisions with the best interests of the people of Syria in mind, and that the cycle of violence somehow ends.

Now, if you'll pardon my regression to frivolity, I have an important newsflash:  

So as some of you know, I love dancing—especially swing-dancing.  Partner dancing is one of my favorite things.  So when a group from a church near me decided to go Texas two-stepping, I couldn't help but tag along!

Yes, I, the east-coaster, learned the Texas two-step.  You all have license to mock me now.  I was NOT, however, wearing a cowboy hat or boots or anything of that nature.  Lots of people at the club were dressed thusly, but not I.

The two-step isn't hard to figure out, especially as a follow.  There's two types:  the regular two-step and progressive.  I still get a little confused for the progressive, but the other kind was more common so that's okey.  And most of the spins and things are similar to things I know from swing-dancing, so I was able to pick it up quickly.  The most different thing about the two-step is that you're constantly moving—the dance floor is arranged kindof like an ice-skating rink, with people moving in a counter-clockwise circle.  Overall, it is a lot more gentle than swing-dancing; in the two-step, you glide across the floor.  I actually really like it—it's lots of fun.

Now that I've made my confession, here is a picture of some wugs dancing the Wugsas two-step:

Prayer for Syria

Dear friends,

I invite everyone reading these words to answer Pope Francis's call to prayer for Syria.  This Saturday (September 7th) has been designated a day of fasting and prayer, and the Holy Father will hold a prayer vigil for peace from 1 - 6 pm Eastern time (12 - 5 here in Texas).  Putting aside the question as to whether or not external military intervention is helpful or harmful, we are praying for peace, health, and comfort for the citizens of Syria.  Prayer is powerful, guys.

I recently received an emailed letter from Archbishop Lori of Baltimore, which included this link to a prayer for Syria:

Prayer for Peace in Syria

The Archbishop also quoted Pope Francis as saying:  "All men and women of good will are bound by the task of pursuing peace.  I make a forceful and urgent call to the entire Catholic Church, and also to every Christian of other confessions, as well as to followers of every religion and to those brothers and sisters who do not believe: peace is a good which overcomes every barrier, because it belongs to all of humanity!"

Even after Saturday, we can pray together this whole week—and beyond—until the people of Syria are safe from harm.

Lord Jesus, Prince of Peace, please help the people of Syria.

Thank you, brothers and sisters, for joining us in prayer for the people of Syria.

Saint Jude knows what's up.

"The greatest mistake in the treatment of diseases is that there are physicians for the body and physicians for the soul, although the two cannot be separated."  (Plato, quoted Brookshire 2007)

Unfortunately, Plato is right—until the moment of death, of course, the soul, the body, and the intellect are in this together.  When the body is damaged, it sometimes affects the intellect, which in turn affects the development of the soul.  

I am beginning to see how vital a role a speech therapist—or any therapist, really—may play in someone's life.  An SLP may see patients whose brains have undergone such trauma that even their families don't recognize them.  And it's the SLP's job to do whatever she can to recover what can be recovered of the patient's intellect and ability to communicate.

Many good people have spent much of their time and energy to serving those society forgets—the severely intellectually disabled, young and old.  I am honored that God has called me to do likewise.  When I was very young, I am not proud to admit that I had no patience for my peers with intellectual and learning disabilities.  It was God who opened my eyes, my mind, and my heart to see that they are just as important to Him as everyone else—that He loves them and they bring Him great joy.  In high school, one of my best friends was involved in Best Buddies, and while I didn't join the club myself, I learned to first tolerate, then to enjoy the presence of her friends who were attending special education classes.  Slowly, I transitioned from someone with no patience into someone getting ready to devote my entire life to helping people to communicate.  My time in the Dominican Republic serving as a special needs teacher really taught me to practice valuing every life, no matter what.  We had one student who, when we met her, did not even know where to focus her eyes and could not say more than one word at a time.  But because we hoped and prayed and spent countless hours working with her, by the end of the semester, she was starting conversations and understanding pretty complex social interactions.  Her older brother is still non-verbal.  Every time I saw him, he was surrounded by his smiling family.  

My neuro professor brought up an interesting ethical discussion last week:  When a patient comes to the hospital, they expect to be healed.  But often with brain trauma, there is no such thing as a cure.  The most that can be expected is the recovery of some of the function that was lost (depending on the severity, perhaps most, or perhaps only a little).  And when it comes to slow-onset health problems, such as Parkinson's, the treatment team is working to slow the loss of function.  They cannot stop it entirely; alas, medicine is not yet that advanced.  There are naysayers who believe that with the shortage of SLPs, attention should be focused on the young and those with hope of at least partial recovery, instead of on those with degenerative disorders.  My professor, on the other hand, believes that these patients are very important to serve.  She argues that their importance is not diminished because of their condition; they are humans whose lives we can improve, even if only a little, by helping them to continue to communicate.  She, like good old Saint Jude, will NOT give up on these "hopeless" cases.

Being naught but a naïve linguist, I had never considered this issue—that there are some patients who will never recover, and some even who can only grasp to retain what they once had, watching in despair as it slips through their fingers (or worse, losing the ability to understand the loss).  I recall the book Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes—an important, if emotionally difficult, novel.  The thought of that happening to me is terrifying.  To lose the intellect, knowing there is nothing to stop its eventual demise. 

What are we if we cannot even reason or communicate?  Clearly we have value; we are still human beings, still loved by our Maker, still whole in His eyes.  He died for every single person, even those whose intellect never develops beyond the age of two years, even those who never experience life outside the womb.  The soul is somehow beyond the body and the intellect.

It's easy to agree in theory, but in practice, our society is heading in a disturbing direction.  There are those who believe that an unborn child with DOWN syndrome should be relieved of the burden of life.  But I have never met anyone with DOWN syndrome who felt this way.  How much do we really value the elderly who have so much wisdom but cannot express themselves—or worse, are forgetting the wisdom they have acquired?  How much do we care about soldiers, or policemen, or firefighters who have had traumatic brain injuries or burns that severely hamper their lifestyle?  How often do we turn away from those who most need our patience?  

It is easier to change the subject and think of something else.

I can see now that God is calling me to face my fears, to be more motivated to help those living with communication disorders and cognitive disorders.  To believe that beneath—nay, within—each mess of flesh and brain tissue and nerve cells, there is a person that God loves dearly, and that they have something to say.  And that Someone is listening because He loves them.