This Blog is My Bumper Sticker

Can someone...please, someone, explain to me what this is supposed to mean?

I like bumper stickers. I like that there are people out there who are willing to express their worldviews to me so that I can judge them on my morning commute. I'm always squinting to see what they say, swerving half out of my lane so that I can get a closer look, and hopefully a giggle of some sort. I personally don't have any bumper stickers. If I did, it would likely say something along the lines of "I'd rather be flying." I am, however, willing to say right now that if some bottom-dwelling jokester were to put the above on the back of my battered gray car, I would cheerfully take a baseball bat and bash it in until it was unrecognizable. 

Killin' me, smalls.

There are plenty of bumper stickers out there that irritate me. Like:

(Ugh. How many of you 'dreamers' are there, then?)

Or anything along the lines of:

(No. He's. Not. Trust me.)

But for some reason, "Coexist" takes the cake for me. 

It's so...patronizing. Self-righteous. As if it's as simple as, "Hey, guys, let's just get along. Let's just learn to live together." Just think...if we just learned to share the playground, there would be no more war! No more hatred! We would all hold hands and share ice cream cones and the world would be set to rights!

No. No. Because in all honesty, I have wondered many a time what the driver of the "coexist" car would do if I were to ram into them again and again. Would they be able to 'coexist' with that?

...Please. It's this simple-minded sort of preaching that gives me a headache and turns my knuckles white on the steering wheel. Because it's not about "co-existing," whatever that means. It's not about world peace.  It's about indifference. 

The fact of the matter is, these world religions do conflict. In Buddhism, salvation's from within. In Islam, Jesus is a prophet. In Christianity, He's the savior of the world. And if you're going to take whichever strain you belong to seriously, 'celebrating change' is going to get awfully hard - especially when someone's bashing your beliefs and all you hold dear - or saying that these beliefs simply don't matter - that's it's hardly worth discussing. 

Of course, I'm not at all saying that it's impossible to get along with people of different mindsets without slitting their throats. I do it every day on my way to work, when I see this ridiculous bumper sticker. But I am not indifferent to their beliefs, as they would, ironically, prefer that I be. 

Well. I'll keep an eye out for more irritating bumper stickers. Will keep you posted.

Happy 2013! This is About Mary.

Skimming over the Patheos homepage a little bit ago, I stumbled across an article titled "Have a Very MARY Christmas," listed under the Evangelical blog section. I just can't resist a good pun, and curiosity compelled me to read it.

As commonly occurs when any mention of Mariology is made by the latest and greatest in Protestant circles, the first paragraph makes an attempt to cleanly sweep Roman Catholicism off the table, citing the veneration of Mary as making 'too much of her.' However, the author Robert Crosby helpfully points out, others have made far too little of her. He then proceeds to show us how, step by step. 

He he.


The Protestant and Catholic notions of worship vary wildly, but I did notice that Sir Robert used the term 'venerate' in his opening paragraph, which was refreshing. 

Now, the writer seems like a nice guy. I'm sure he is. Painfully blasé and dismissive of the role of Mary as the Mother of God Incarnate, but had some nice things to say about the Virgin Mother's willingness to obey despite her bewilderment at the angel Gabriel's words, which is better than nuthin', I suppose. 

Articles like this still make me a bit uncomfortable - it wasn't long ago, really, when I myself would've been as flippant about the Virgin Mother's function in Christology: the chosen vessel in which God Himself was housed for nine months. It had simply never occurred to me before to consider the implications of God being born of a woman; what that meant, what would be required of the vessel that God would create. Perfection, in a word. Which Mary, due to the immaculate conception, was (and is). Mary is so much more than an example for the rest of us. Were it not for Mary, after all, the Incarnation (i.e. our salvation - so let's take notice) would not have occurred according to God's plan - and there are many biblical figures to admire and emulate, but that can't be said for any of them. 

Mary's function within salvation theology is both literal and figurative. She gave us Christ, through the Holy Spirit, reflecting God's power and love through the offering of herself as  the medium through which we received God's Son on earth. Everything Mary ever did points to Christ, yes, through her. This does not make Mary a goddess of any sort, no - but she is the one that God chose to be His mother, and we only exist because of our parents. Big deal. Huge.

Considering what that actually means about Mary is...mind-boggling, but can't be ignored, which it so often is. Only a Protestant convert to Catholicism would know how awkward it can be to view Mary in the new light of her role as Christ-carrier. Maybe I'll talk about that in some other post.

Happy New Year, all!

Repetition, Repetition

Well, looks like Advent is behind us. My first Advent, even. Well, technically my second, I guess, but I don't think I thought about it much last year. And the years before that...well, let's just say that I couldn't have defined the concept of a liturgical year with a gun to my head. (Thank you, Evangelical upbringing.)

I love Christmas. I mean, I love Christmas. The gaudy lawn decor (I always scoff - "cheesy!" - but deep down, deep deep down, I want it for myself), the mystery packages and the velcro stockings. I was panting to get my tree. I am terrible at buying presents, but I am very good at receiving them. I think this is a sign of humility. 

Did anyone see that video that went viral of the man who received tickets to "the big game" (I assume), and reacted with what I can only describe as unadulterated joy? Watch it, man.

Now, if that isn't enough to make a grown man cry...

Funny how a video like this is so soaringly popular (at five million views and counting). I could write all about the true reason of the season and the greed that surrounds the marking of Christ's birth in this unholy land, but I'll leave off. Plus, it'd be a classic case of the pot and the kettle. I may have felt more than a few smatterings of greed myself over the past week, and trying to fool myself now would take too much energy.

To be painfully honest, I am not a big fan of the midnight Mass. This is because I am, by nature, lazy (during the day) and sleepy (mornings and evenings). So eating a ton of rich, buttery food and then waiting until eleven-thirty before stepping into the cold and getting into the car is not on my top ten list of activities. That being said, Christmas morning is a time for me to lurch out of my warm bed, grab coffee, and casually open presents. This is how I was brought up. This is a time-honored tradition. This is what I want to do on Christmas Day. Not go to Mass.

Christmas being a day of obligation, however, I had to choose between sleeping on time and dealing with the discomfort that heading to Mass during the middle of Christmas morning would bring. I chose less sleep and headed to the midnight Mass. Grumpily but dutifully.

It's not always easy to derive meaning from a stories that I feel that I've known as long as I can remember. Who doesn't know about the baby in the manger, the virgin birth, and the three wise men and the star? There is comfort in familiarity, I know - imagine what space aliens would think if they heard the story of the Incarnation for the first time? "Like, how does that even make sense, a God-king born in a cave, between a haystack and a manure pile?" But, having known the story before I even had my permanent teeth, there's no shock effect, no natural inclination to dig deeper, and I, in the past (and even now, sometimes), am halfway ready to accuse God of monotony. 

Caught between my short attention span and the the smugness that accompanies the feeling of knowing the story backwards and forwards, Christmas Mass and the Advent readings could be uncomfortable - particularly toward the end. Eyes glazed over, mind wandering (and usually not on whatever is pure, noble and right), coming to with a jolt and thinking, "God, I am so sorry that I am no longer impressed by Your actions to save my immortal soul. I am sorry that I am bored by Your plan to redeem mankind. Give me the grace to understand Christmas better. And I ask that, Lord, if I don't get that new laptop this month, that I receive it soon. Like, early next year. Amen." 

Thank God for His mercy, seriously.

There was a moment during the Mass, though, a small and fleeting moment, in which I looked at the decorative angel in the corner and had a moment of focus. I realized that angels attended His birth, announced it to the shepherds, and for some reason, I knew that if the angels were singing "Hosanna in the highest" - which they were, up in the air, than I should know that this is a pretty big friggin deal. I'll cling to that. 

Until next time!

Faithfully yours

Catholic in Memphis

My First Post

I have been inspired to start a blog, for several reasons. Number one,  all the kids seem to be doing it these days - Facebook and Twitter are wrought with links to people's online diaries, and over the course of the last few months, I have found myself sneaking on and off peoples' blogs and rating them in terms of funniness, intelligence and relevance - usually in that order, leading me to the second reason: I've felt a bit guilty, snooping in on people's personal lives and 'rating' them in this way (although, to be fair, they're posting onto the internet, where lines of communication are forever blurred and the concept of privacy unknown), and I thought I'd be gallant enough to let others do the same to me. Come one, come all.

Secondly, I wanted to write about Catholicism. In Caleh Alexander's blog, "Barefoot and Pregnant" (one of the clever and hilarious diarists that I routinely spy on - hope we can be friends someday, Caleh), she, at a certain point, refers to herself as a "recovering Protestant," a phrase that I found so astute that I now choose to refer to myself as one as well. 

I guess you can say that I've gone from this:

To this:

And life is good.

Also, I live in Memphis. Great city, no complaints. But a Catholic metropolis it is not. I'll get my kicks where I can get 'em, let off some steam from time to time with the veracity of the little engine that could, and maybe learn something in the process. Also, I'm not going to lie - I'm no theologian. I'll be looking for people to read my posts and give me answers. Plus, I do enjoy complaining about/making fun of liberals. There will be a lot of that as well.

Details about me personally (should you be interested), will more than likely unfold as these posts go along. 

Until then, I remain most faithfully yours,

Catholic in Memphis