Sticks and Stones: My Incendiary Blog Post on Catholic Civil Discourse
. . . In the online world, we can be anyone or no one at all. We can light fires with our words, or we can fan an inferno lit by someone else. We are free to write with the assurance that no one out there knows who we are, or can suspect what is truly in our hearts. We can strip the Beatitudes from our soulful existence, and let anger and disdain run amok. We can take a rumor and run with it without ever stepping for a single moment into the shoes of the subjects of our contempt. We can delude ourselves into kneeling before God with thanks that we are truly unlike that tax collector over there on the other side of the Church. We can pat ourselves on the back believing that his sin, now in the open, is so much worse than our own, still hidden behind the veil of cyberspace - hidden from everyone but God. . . .
The Catholic League, Saint Patrick and the Labyrinthine Ways
. . . The part of St. Patrick's story about being carried off by marauders and forced into six years of slavery is seen through the eyes of Irish history as part of the "lucky charm" of St. Patrick's life. Think about that! I doubt very much that it felt that way at age sixteen. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time - or the right place at the right time depending on your point of view.Would Patrick be Saint Patrick without that awful six years of his life? I doubt it. We're in an unholy quagmire if we're hell-bent on shedding where we are in life, or where we've been. God's pursuit of us calls not just our halo, but our shadow as well. We can leave neither behind, and there's no point in running. Just as with "that look" my Irish mother mastered, resistance is futile. . . .