Recently in Reflections Category

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I am a fan of the core thought behind Opus Dei--that all work is for God. In root, the main theory of this religious group is that all work, whether it be of a CEO or a janitor, is directed toward the glorification of God; therefore, all work can be sanctified.

Can all work be included? If a profession has two goals--one public and one private--and the public goal is truly a good goal, but the private goal is based on greed, can that work be sanctified?

The first thought that comes to mind is borrowed from the secular. Gordon Gekko from Wall Street is known to be the King of Green. For those who aren't familiar, the 1987 movie character has, perhaps, the best encouragement of greed in recent history. The famous scene can be seen on YouTube, but the moneyquote:

Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right, greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms; greed for life, for money, for love, knowledge has marked the upward surge of mankind.

Of course, I find it safe to proclaim that Mr. Gekko is wrong and likewise, the private motivation of such a profession is also wrong. Greed, even if the intention of that greed (the well-being of the person's family) is good, is wrong. Work, by its very nature, demands a just wage to be paid for work and so the well-being of a family should, by the natural by-product of work, be satisfied without an artificial greed.

If we can judge the private goal as being detrimental to the common good, can the work be "saved" by the positive outcomes of the labor? Greed is not a requirement for those preforming the labor, although it is used as the carrot to keep them working. Can the worker ignore the carrot, ignore the quotas or production quantity standards, but do the labor for the greater good and the greater glory of God?

I submit that, if the good being produced and your personal methods of producing the wood are good, then yes. There is nothing opposing the sanctification of work toward the glory of God. There will be difficulty in turning out the voices of greed and it will be a temptation, but a strong spiritual life can focus and ground a person in such a profession.

Greed is never good. Greed is never truly productive toward the greater good. Greed is a virus that can infect someone doing actual good.

There has been a number of various "open letters" to our soon-to-be 44th President. I had the intent of writing a letter to him as soon as I thought there was no way Senator McCain would win out, but since everyone else is writing it openly, I might as well too.

Dear Mr. President-Elect,

Congratulations! The peaceful transfer of power is something that the United States demonstrated first to the world and we're again able to showcase it to the larger world community.

As a young person in Austin, TX, I was energized by your initial run, making my first and only contribution to a political campaign to afford myself a place to see you speak at The Backyard. I voted for you in the historic Democratic primary. In the weeks leading up to the general election, however, I had to pause and reflect upon casting my vote for you.

My confusion and hesitation was not because I started to doubt whether or not you would be a strong leader, or if I thought you had the better answers in this time of American's questioning on the conflict in Iraq, on the economy, on immigration and on other various, as the Catholic Church refers to them, "social justice" issues.

My pause was because of your position on abortion.

In your reflection on the 35th anniversary of the Roe v Wade decision, you refer to the choice of having an abortion as fundamental and the ability to have an abortion as "reproductive justice". Along the same line, on July 17, 2007, you answer a question at a Planned Parenthood event stating that the "first thing" you would do as President is sign the Freedom of Choice Act.

I do not expect to be able to change your mind on this issue and I do not expect to be able to convince you that a child inside the womb is still a child.

In good conscience, I could not vote for you in the general election. I believe the State has a vested interest in and a duty to maintain the safety and security of all in our country. Supporting any person's ability to cause the premature death of an unborn child is directly opposed to these ideals.

You have mentioned before that fathers of children must step up and take responsibility. The Freedom of Choice Act and other pro-choice measures you support would take away the ability of these fathers to take responsibility for their unborn children, it would continue to promote a culture that divides action from accepting the logical outcome of an action, and it would continue to divide this country.

As a Catholic who aligns himself more with the Democratic Party than anything else, I feel isolated from the Party that I think could do the most good because of the Party's desire to ignore the first victims of abortion, as well as ignore the impact of the death of their unborn children has on many of those who sought out abortions.

With four, possibly eight, years before you as the President of the United States, you will be constantly in my prayers that most of your visions become reality and I look forward, with hope, that my worst fears regarding this topic will not be realized.

I pray that your administration will be receptive of people of faith, including those that disagree with you so much on this issue. I will work with your programs, directly or indirectly, to help end poverty and promote a just living for those who are on the fringes of our society.

As a young adult (in my mid-20's), I want to be involved in the political process. I think working for a campaign and helping in the governance of this country would be exciting. But, there is no place for me in America's political landscape.

While your campaigned helped a generation have hope in the political process for the first time, I must confess that I feel hopeless that this division will change anytime in the near future. I look forward to the day that I can fully respect and support the Party that energizes me. I look forward to the day that I can make a donation to your campaign, the DNC or some other candidate. I look forward to the day that I can place a Democratic candidate's name on my Facebook profile, the sidebar on my website or their sign in my window. Until that day, however, the only support that I can give to you, in good conscience, in the support of my prayers.

May God bless you and the United States of America!

Sincerely,
Brandon J.G. Kraft
Austin, TX

This is the fourth in a series of posts over the course of 24 hours looking at poverty in Austin as part of Blog Action Day 2008.

Illegal immigration is directly related and connected to global poverty.

Period.

I don't have time to write a note that does this issue justice, but CNN has a story today about a Catholic priest who is putting his money and his mouth in service to this issue.

My wife used to work at Casa Juan Diego in Houston, a house that assisted undocumented individuals—while I was working there for a few days, there were protesters who told me how un-American I was by helping out these folks.

Near Austin, Taylor, TX was in the news regarding a former prison facility that was "converted" into the T. Don Hutto Immigration Detention Center. While the private facility is not very friendly to the media, it claims to house non-Mexican families on non-criminal immigration violations while they await hearings. The talking heads say that it is a family environment and does not feel like a jail or prison. But, how many prisons can be converted into family-friendly housing?

This is the third in a series of posts over the next 24 hours looking at poverty in Austin as part of Blog Action Day 2008.

I'm a bit late for my Noon entry today.

What tools do we take for granted? Our watches, our cell phones—or just any phone, an address.

A friend of mine recently started looking for a new job, a difficult process for anyone in today's economic climate, but he has most things working for him. A high school diploma, senior status at UT-Austin, a car, an address, a phone number with voice mail.

The homeless today face a much tougher time finding a job. If a person walked into a potential employer's office, looking perfectly groomed in a nice suit, but could not list an address or a phone number, would they get the job? Would you hire someone without that information?

Even a PO Box requires you to list a physical address; I honestly don't know if they'll accept a homeless shelter as a residential address.

I have to get back to work, but let's start thinking about how to help get the right tools into the right hands.

This is the second in a series of posts over the next 24 hours looking at poverty in Austin as part of Blog Action Day 2008.

As being a Campus Ministry Intern at the University Catholic Center serving The University of Texas at Austin, I see quite often the poverty that exists on campus, taking a few different forms.

First, many homeless individuals spend their time along Guadalupe Street ("The Drag"), some asking students for their generosity, some just experiencing the day. Some students are generous—giving individuals cash, food, water and more. Other students try to only walk on certain sections of Guadalupe to avoid the usual hangouts in fear of being asked by a "Drag Rat" for some change.

Second, the University is a city in itself with an army of non-student food service employees, janitors and many others that are most likely earning well under the average wage for someone in the city of Austin. Some are the only breadwinner in a household bursting at the seams. Not nearly enough students pay them the time or attention that a person deserves, but looking through them as only a thing that is there to provide them food, clean up their trash off the floor or whatever else. Thankfully, many students do see the dignity of these folks who work extremely hard to meet the students' needs, but still, many don't.

Third and very much related to the above two, is the poverty in spirit that exist in some students. From my position at the UCC, I see many students who realize the world around them, the role they play into it and the role that others—from President Powers down to the hourly temp worker—play into the world. They're full of life, generally happy and what.

Those students are a light to others on campus and I count them among my many blessings.

But, many students are troubled, feel alone, are full of anger and hatred, depressed. While they may be surrounded by more material things than I myself will ever know, they're nevertheless impoverished. For them, they may know realize their poverty, which is the saddest part. While we need some material things to survive (food, shelter, etc), to be fully alive, we need more than just the material.

In so many cases, if we can connect these two types of poverty—the poor in spirit with the poor in material—both sides can come out better and less impoverished than before.

This is the first in a series of posts over the next 24 hours looking at poverty in Austin as part of Blog Action Day 2008.

On the Roman Catholic liturgical calendar, today is the memorial for St. Callistus I. Callistus was a third century pope whose life didn't seem to be leading to the Chair of St. Peter.

Callistus was a slave and apparently, not too great of one at that. He was entrusted with money, only to lose it. He was jailed, only let out of prison so he could make the money back.

Yet, after a rocky start, he was freed, befriended the current pope and entered the priesthood. He himself became pope upon election of the clergy of Rome.

One major critique made of him was that he was too merciful to sinners.

Today, we celebrate something who is impoverished in his time who became the16th pontiff of the Church. When he was a slave, did his master see this potential in him? I don't know, but how often do we see the potential in slaves today? True, legally, no one owns another as a slave, but the poor are the slaves of today. They are slaves to a socio-economic reality that looks down upon them for their lot in life—no matter how they came to it. They are slaves to the assistance programs that are offered and their insane rules and regulations.

In Austin, it is hard to go far without having the poor with you. The homeless. The unemployed. The underemployed—the working poor who have jobs, yet do not earn enough to make ends meet. Very often, we ignore them. We pass them with our windows rolled up along the access road to IH-35 or we look through them as they work for us, thinking of them as servants rather than people.

The local topic related to Blog Action Day is putting a face to the poor in Austin. I can't do that for anyone, but it isn't hard to do. Look for the guy on the side of the road. Or the one sleeping on a bench downtown. Look at the middle-aged man who is bussing your table at a restaurant.

They maybe poor, but that isn't the only thing about them. With the right person caring, they might not become the next pope, but maybe they'll be able to surprise you with their potential.

I've discovered Red. They are sort of the Linkin Park of the Christian music scene. They have a couple of really excellent songs, dark night of the soul type stuff, which is getting more popular in Christian music these days. I think in general people are getting a little worn out of all the saccharine praise and worship type stuff, which has its place and its value but won't always suffice for the difficulty of the real world Christian experience.

Red's album is "End of Silence." My favorite song on it is "Pieces."

I'm here again
a thousand miles away from you
a broken mess
just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard
thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way

Then I see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything
I thought I'd lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole

I come undone
but you make sense of who I am
Like puzzle pieces in your eyes

Then I see your face
I know I'm finally yours
I find everything
I thought I'd lost before
You call my name
I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole

How true is that?? That's what I love about these guys. You listen to their stuff and you know that these aren't a bunch of holy rollers who have never done anything bad. These guys know what it's like to be in pieces.

And that's something the non-Christian world, and the Christian world, really needs to know: that Christians aren't perfect people. They are in pieces. The only difference is they are made whole, and that is something that everyone can have, if they know where to turn. And that I daresay even accomplishes what a theme like "Take Me As I Am" aims to but without the confusion. It makes the point that Christians know they are fallen people, but that God is indeed a God who takes us as we are, in pieces, but who makes us whole.

During his homily yesterday the priest, whom I love but do not always agree with, brandished a bumper sticker, which I have seen around previously, which read, “God Bless the Whole World. No Exceptions.” It’s a very high-minded notion of course, and something which all Americans have a solemn obligation to pray for, for solidarity with the rest of the planet.

Still, I find the bumper sticker just a bit unsettling, because I think I can discern what the subtext behind the message is. For I started to see the bumper sticker for some time after we all started seeing the bumper stickers and signs everywhere saying “God Bless America,” which mostly started popping up after 9.11. For a brief period following that awful day, the rest of the world felt solidarity with the United States, and shared in our mourning over the 3000 lives lost (many of whom were not Americans).

That period of solidarity, however, is most decidedly past now. Today it is once again quite fashionable to say that America sucks. Anti-Americanism, blame-America-first, is more popular today than perhaps it ever was. And this is why I can’t help thinking that the message of “God Bless the Whole World; No Exceptions” is not so much a sincere invitation to pray for the whole planet as it is a backhanded response to the explicitly patriotic message that came before it: “God Bless America.”

Of course we should pray that God bless the whole world, regardless of borders. The slogan “God Bless America” doesn’t imply otherwise, unless one is of the opinion that this country sucks.

For the record, I am of no such opinion. I am of the very low-minded and ethnocentric opinion that my country is pretty great. I believe that “Land of the Free and Home of the Brave” is at the bottom of things an accurate description of this nation. I believe there are people here of real nobility, of real virtue, of real love, and I pray to God they don’t lose that when they go to college.

I believe many of these men and women of nobility and virtue are presently serving in our military. I have the same reservations about their mission as many Catholics do, but I’m not nearly so quick to pass judgment on the mission as is fashionable in Catholic (and political, and academic, and media) circles today. I believe that they believe in their heart of hearts that they are out there doing precisely what the bumper sticker really wants us Americans to do, which is to get up off our lazy bums and do something good for the rest of the world. They’re just doing it in a way that some people don’t like, because it is also fashionable these days to be of the opinion that military engagement is intrinsically evil, unless of course you’re an anti-American insurgent.

Of course we’re not perfect. We’re materialistic, yes. We’re wasteful, yes. We’re hedonistic. Very hedonistic. Yes. We are indeed too violent too often. Yes. We’re addicted to many things. Yes. We’re voyeuristic and narcissistic. Yes. We could all go on and on with the number of reasons why America is not perfect. But it seems to me this is that much more of a reason to invite God’s blessings in a special way down upon the Land of the Free. One could just as well create a bumper sticker that reads, “God Bless America, Cuz They Damn Well Need It.” (Although for the record, many of those imperfections just listed and otherwise apply just as much if not more to the rest of the world as they do to the Home of the Brave, which is a whole ‘nother can of double-standards.)

Having said all this, I do have my own reservations about the patriotic mantra, although of a different sort. The problem I have with “God Bless America” is that it’s one-directional. It makes a request of God without offering any measure of sacrifice or praise on our own parts.

My counter-sticker then would be “America Bless God.” It’s a message that would certainly be worth spreading around these days, what with the ongoing assault (mainly in our courts) on all things Christian in the public square which bears the misnomer of that great (un-)constitutional mythology known as “separation of church and state.” If we focused primarily on our own duty to give credit where credit is due, that is, to be religious, to give thanks and praise to our God and King, we would have very little to worry about in the way of God giving us all the grace we need to continue as a nation and a people to be great, and to be greater.

Having said that, I do think that the long-standing patriotic slogan serves a valid purpose. For love of country is an entirely healthy and even necessary form of Christian charity, provided it does not lapse into idolatrous nationalism. All the saints, even the Americans, were patriots—they loved their countries. Part of that love indeed involves challenging the cancers that infect the national culture.

But what I see in popular culture today is not so much a desire to challenge the culture as a seething desire to witness its very demise. What I see is an ostensibly high-minded and fashionable hatred of country. To the extent that such hatred exists, it is impossible for real love to thrive. If Americans are to become saints, they must love their country. And to the extent that this supposedly ethnocentric mantra can begin to rekindle a healthy love of this fruited plane, I have no problem saying it.

Therefore, Happy Fourth, Let Freedom Ring, and yes: God Bless America.

I have spent the evening ploughing through CS "The Man" Lewis' book The Magician's Nephew. It is an excellent book, with a great wealth of Christian symbolism.

It is this book which has gotten me thinking, particularly in the chapter "An Unexpected Meeting," of one of Satan's greatest ploys. It is not so much that it is something I did not already know about what he does to lead people away. It is more I guess that this particular situation (and you will know it when you have read the book if you have not already) has given me a new appreciation.

The long and short of it is this: Satan likes to put on as if he is emotionally invested in our problems, as if he desires that we should solve them and overcome our hardships. It helps, when tempted to go along with his bosh suggestions, simply to remember the truth.

And the truth is: Satan doesn't give a rat's ass about your problems or mine. If he does, he hopes that our struggles to overcome hardship and escape suffering lead us into so wretched a state as his. We need simply say unto him, when he is purporting to empathize with us, "Look here; where do you come into all this? Why are you so very invested in my wellbeing all of a sudden? What's it got to do with you? What's your game?"

I should read more Lewis.

There is a certain perspective which the Cross of Christ can supply to those struggling to live a virtuous life. The perspective is in recognizing just how minimal are our discomforts today compared to the intense sufferings which Jesus (and many of his followers) had to face. If Christ can bleed and die the way he did for love of me, then perhaps I can abstain from whatever sinful comforts to which I have attached myself over the course of my life.

I have been told, even in the confessional, that there is value in trying not to do something again, but that nevertheless I must accept that I will do it nonetheless. I imagine I am not the only one who has been told that. We are told that we are human, that we are normal and healthy and that people will simply do these things because certain "experts" have said that it is in our nature to do so. And besides, we ought not to be preoccupied with being "perfect" (even though Jesus called us to be). All of that does seem to make sense. The passions are too deep-seated. The temptations are too strong. The ideal is an ideal and normal human beings are not, and thus will trip up from time to time.

And the good news is that God is a merciful God, and he will take us back even if and no matter how many times and how badly we trip up, as long as we turn to him. All of that is true, but it lacks one element. The element is the perspective afforded by the Cross. Jesus, a human (in fact the human par excellence), overcame every deep-seated instinct, including that of survival, and stood up against every temptation, becoming obedient to the point of death, and by doing so, really lived the ideal and invited us time and time again to do the same.

Jesus said after washing the disciples' feet, "As I have done, so you must also do." In other words, "If I can do it, you can do it!" It is about time we stopped complaining about how he is God and we are not. For that did not seem to enter into the equation for him when it came to living the virtuous life. Quite the contrary, he is "the vine" and we are "the branches." All we need is to remain attached to him. "Abide in me as I abide in you." In practical terms, we just need to keep some perspective, and remember the Cross. The Cross is the key to Christ.

On my way into Galveston earlier today I saw a billboard that advertised: "Heartbreakers -- Restaurant and Club." So I said to myself, okay, it's a strip joint. Says my roommate, "No, it's an adult entertainment venue." Whatever. So then, just about twenty yards further up the highway, I saw another billboard. This one was for a church, and pictured the pastor with a smug grin on his face. The billboard read:

"Jesus heals the brokenhearted." I sat for a couple of seconds while it registered, and then cried out, "Brilliant!"

This has been a good weekend in terms of discernment for me. A lot of issues that I have had on my mind lately have really come out.

The celibacy issue
I have begun reading The Courage to Be Chaste by Benedict J Groeschel, CFR. I like it so far. Here's one good passage from the book.

Perhaps one of the most persistent and obviously invalid assumptions of our civilization is that sexual behavior brings happiness. The media trumpet the message, "Sex brings happiness." If this were true, we would indeed live in an earthly paradise, and the world would be "Happy Valley."

I suppose that half the people you meet on the bus, or in a shopping center, or even at church on Sunday have had some genital sexual experience during the preceding few days. It is the observation of an old celibate from way back that they are not all so very happy. If sex brought happiness, the world would shine like the sun, at least half the time. Celibates need not try to convince themselves that chaste celibacy is the road to earthly bliss, but on the other hand they need not feel deprived of the key to happiness. If there is a single key to contentment, it cannot be sexual experience.

It's a good idea for me to be reading this book, especially at this juncture in my life, preparing to go into seminary and seriously consider a lifelong commitment to celibacy.

Fr Groeschel says that sexual experience can be ruled out as the single key to contentment. The single key to contentment, I would venture, is intimacy with Christ and to do his will. That is what I hope I will find at seminary.

My bishop on Catholic radio
As I was driving home from the parents today I was listening to Relevant Radio and was caught pleasantly by surprise to hear the voice of my bishop, Most Reverend Gregory Aymond of the Diocese of Austin, Texas. He was speaking along with Bishop Zubik of Green Bay on, precisely, vocations to the priesthood.

Bishop Aymond invited those listening to the program who were discerning the priesthood, in the words of John Paul II, to "Be Not Afraid" to be open to what they really desire. This ties in with what Fr Groeschel wrote about so aptly, for since the mantra of the media today is that sex brings happiness, it so goes that no sexual activity means no happiness. And that is indeed a frightening thing, if it's true. The battle of a seminarian and those discerning the possibility of a lifelong celibate vocation is to realize contrary to the cultural message that what really brings happiness is the will of God, whatever that may be.

I attended the University of Texas at Austin Commencement ceremony this past Saturday. It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, full of all the pomp and pompousness that we Longhorns are so well-known for. One of my favorite parts of the evening was the commencement address delivered by keynote speaker Antonio O Garza Jr, US ambassador to Mexico. I think he is probably Catholic, for a several reasons, among them being the hints of Catholic theology and anthropology littered throughout his address.

At the beginning of his address he observed: “I have been asked to give you a little advice today for the road ahead. Frankly, I’m a little wary. After all, Socrates gave advice and they poisoned him.” That struck me as the academic equivalent of the I daresay more well-known story about Jesus, who gave advice and told the truth and opened minds and hearts, and was crucified. I suspect Ambassador Garza may well have had that in mind but had to tailor the message for a secular academic audience. But the point is the same: Telling the truth is risky business.

“You don’t choose your family”
In his address he gave the degree candidates four basic pieces of advice, all of which have a distinct Catholic bent to them. His first was: “Families are the backbone of our society.” As he put it: “The steadiest rock you will ever find in your life is your family – both the one you have now and the one you make for yourself in the future. Nothing else will ever come close.”

But what really got my attention along these lines was when he quoted Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who said, “You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them.”

When I heard this, I could not help but think that yes, it is true that we do not choose our families, but it is also true that in modern society many of us wish we could. What does it mean after all to value “choice” more than life itself? Not just in the field of abortion but in areas of reproductive and genetic technologies, we are seeing examples of this desire coming more and more to fruition. Sperm banks feature samples that are categorized in terms of the desired traits in the newborn: seed from a Harvard grad for a childbearer who values intelligence; seed from a NCAA football star for one who values athletic prowess. Genetic manipulation and prenatal diagnosis of down syndrome all point to this desire not just to govern our own actions but to exercise power over circumstances that should be beyond our control. Modern society wants to choose its families. And thus this backbone of our society is growing weaker.

Real personal connections
His next point: “It is people – the real, human connections we make – that matter most.” As he puts it:

Globalization is revolutionizing the way we live. But something in danger of being trampled in the stampede to the future is the delicate thread that draws us together as human beings.

We surf the internet in multiple languages, yet never speak to the person next door. Webcams show us deprivation in the far reaches of the globe, yet we never notice the poverty in our own backyard. What good is crystal clear reception on your Bluetooth if you can’t hear the voice of your own conscience or your neighbor asking for help?

In Catholic terms, Garza is observing the potential dangers that technology pose to our understanding of the dignity of the human person. It is certainly true that technology brings profound benefits such as the ability to communicate with greater efficiency (as evidenced by this blog for example). But it can also depersonalize human contact. Technology has removed the physical element from human contact, you might say it has Gnosticized human contact, making it something that takes place in an entirely nonphysical context, so that even letter-writing no longer produces anything physical, but rather an electronic transmission.

Again, there are advantages to this, namely efficiency and convenience and ease. But human contact was always meant to take time, and was always meant to require us to go at least a little bit out of our way, because people are worth that. But the value of efficiency elevated by technology has threatened our understanding of this. It has affected family life by saying that if a new birth or a certain lifestyle is not efficient or convenient or comfortable, it would as well be done away with. In interpersonal relationships, it has given way to a more functionalistic understanding of the person, appreciating persons only for what they can bring us—pleasure, notoriety etc—rather than who they are. This kind of functionalistic approach is what the Church has referred to as “exploitation.”

“Find your purpose”
His third point was one that spoke to me personally because it had directly to do with the subject of discernment: “Find your purpose and set the bar high, but don’t let success alone be your goal.”

This ran parallel to Sara Martinez Tucker’s point last year of “inspired ambition.” She quoted St Ignatius Loyola in saying that when ambition is inspired (by God) it is almost holy, but we have to guard from our ambitions becoming self-centered and “disloyal.” On Saturday, Garza invited the students to strive for success, because success is better than failure, especially if it’s something you really believe in, but to always “reach for the substance, not the shadow.” “[U]nderstand success for what it is -- and what it isn’t. Use it to make a real difference in the world around you,” he said.

He even pointed out that a key to being successful and really helping other people is to have a certain contemplative spirit:

[N]o matter how famous you get, how much money you earn, or how many scientific mysteries you unravel, they are nothing if you lose your sense of imagination and wonder.

I grew up along the border, and I remember if someone seemed a bit odd or colorful, folks would say: “es que tiene la música por dentro” – he’s got the music inside of him.

Looking back, some of the most successful and most satisfied people I’ve ever known are those with that “música por dentro.” And it’s because they took the time to stop and contemplate the world around them with awe and wonder.

How we treat “others”
Finally his fourth point: “Life will test you in ways you cannot imagine. And one of the ways it will test you – over and over -- is how you treat others who don’t look like you, talk like you or earn like you.”

I’ve heard it called the human tendency to “other-ize” categories of people, because of differences between these categories and the observer(s). He spoke most directly in terms of the recent ongoing immigration controversy between the United States and Mexico. But his message on this other-izing of peoples applies equally well to the forms of exploitation that we see in life issues. He made a couple of points that screamed the pro-life message to me.

First, he said, “[Y]ou and I know that our work is not done until the invisible are invisible no more. Until all hearts accept what no law can mandate – and that is to love one another.”

Now this made me sit up in my chair. Love one another? Not quite the language that you hear very often in a setting like this, but it’s straight from the mouth of Christ. In fact the readings from the Sunday following his address contained those exact three words from Jesus to his disciples. Coincidence? I’m inclined to think not.

Also his imagery of “making the invisible invisible no more” and changing people’s hearts to “accept what no law can mandate” got me thinking particularly about abortion. It is not that we should not work to change laws. Certainly we should work, and very hard. But the changing of a person’s heart is precisely what is needed to really make laws more just, since it is people who change the laws to begin with. We have to pray not just for laws to change but that all people can really be convinced that the mystery of each person mandates Christian love whether the law of the land mandates that or not.

His other point that I liked very much was his reference to what Martin Luther King called the “inescapable network of mutuality.” “What affects one citizen, affects all citizens.”

Now, there’s a dangerous premise for pro-choicers to accept. For the premise behind the value of “choice” is precisely that of “privacy.” It is the notion that an individual decision made by an individual person will in fact not affect anybody else for good or for ill, and therefore it ought not to be anyone else’s place to tell a lady what she may or may not do with her physical self. But if there is an inescapable network of mutuality, and what affects the woman who has the abortion affects in turn all others, then what of privacy then? And how does the abortion affect the woman? For good or for ill? If it is for ill, and more and more evidence is springing up that the affects of abortion are quite awful indeed, then might that single act of abortion permeate through the whole of society?

If one accepts that simple observation from the ambassador, that what affects the one affects the whole, then abortion becomes the business of everyone, especially when the object of its exploitation—namely the child—becomes invisible no more.

These are all the tangents off to which my mind flew as I was listening to the ambassador's great speech. Quite entertaining and thought-provoking.

This morning I drove to a Catholic school in the rural Central Texas to talk to third, fourth and fifth graders about the possibility of becoming of a priest or entering religious life. I talked about my background and how when I was their age I never once thought about becoming a priest.

At one point in the talk one of the fourth graders raised his hand and asked me: "What are you gonna do if you become the pope? Are you gonna try to change the world and be like John Paul II?"

I kind of chuckled. In response I said:

Well, I do not think that I am going to become the pope. But if I did then sure I would try to change the world and be like John Paul II. But it's important to remember that, you don't have to be the pope to change the world. All of you here in this room can change the world just by growing up and getting married and raising four or five or however many good kids. You can change the world just by being a priest or by being a sister like Mother Teresa, and serving people that way. That's how I wanta change the world, is by encouraging the people that I serve to be saints, which just means imitating Christ and spreading his love around. If you can be a saint, then you guys can change the world.

On Friday night I attended the Annunciation Maternity Home benefit banquet. It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. I mingled with other diocesan staff and joked around with the Catholic Longhorns for Life, said hi to the mothers in residence at the home, and even played around with one of their particularly rambunctious future-athlete toddlers.

But the highlight of my evening was the same as everyone else’s: Gianna Jessen, that rare and embarrassing case of someone who was aborted, and lived to tell about it later in life.

"I don't die easily"
What immediately hits you though when she walks up to the microphone and starts to do what she was obviously born to do, is that she is more than a walking pro-life bumper sticker. She is a person, an enormously gifted and refreshingly humorous one. She began by quipping, “Hi my name’s Gianna. Gianna is an Italian name and I’ve recently discovered I’m Irish.” She then sang three songs for the audience, the first of which was her own rendition of “Soon and Very Soon.” She didn’t just sing it either. She belted it out like she was at the Grand Ole Opry. (She is, after all, from Tennessee.)

After nailing the song, she said with a big smile to the audience, “I think whatever you do, you oughta do it with all your heart.” Gianna Jessen has done a lot, and in just that way. In addition to singing and traveling around the country to tell her story and encourage pro-life ministers, she also is learning about the real estate business, and various vibrant physical pursuits like running marathons. Marathons. Here is a lady who got cerebral palsy from lack of oxygen to her brain during the abortion procedure. She calls it “the gift of cerebral palsy.” When the alternative is death, whatever limitations or hardships we face in life become gifts, because they presuppose the fact that we are alive to have them.

One also gets the immediate impression that Gianna Jessen is an enormously happy and optimistic person. She is acutely aware of the evils that exist in the world, in a way that very, very few people possibly can be. Yet throughout her talk she smiled in a most sincere way that betrayed an impenetrable Christian joy, and several times she simply started laughing uncontrollably.

She recounted the story of what happened to her seven and a half months after her conception. Without shedding a tear or missing a beat she told us how the saline abortion chosen by her mother in 1977 entailed injecting a saline solution into her mother’s uterus so that it would enter the baby’s system, burning her outside and in, until twenty-four hours later the mother would deliver a dead baby.

But as Gianna said with a mischievous smile, “Apparently I don’t die easily.” Indeed what is so inspiring about Gianna and what so many people can benefit from regardless of their background is her determination not just to avoid death but to actually live. She was not supposed to be able to sit up, or crawl, or stand or walk, and certainly not run 26-mile marathons. But she has done all of that. Why? Because she does not die easily. Her survival of the abortion and her life since are a testament to the theological virtue of hope.

Reflection of humanity
The beauty of people like Gianna—and there are several of them walking around, people who were not “meant to be” in the eyes of the world but who by God’s grace survived the world’s attempt on their lives—is that they serve as mirrors reflecting humanity back to itself. When you think about it, Gianna is but an extreme example of every person’s life, and every person’s vocation. There is no reason Gianna should necessarily have come into this world. In fact the odds were profoundly against it, except for the force of God’s providence. If one thing had gone differently in the events leading up to her birth, she could very well have been killed like the millions of other children in this country who have been. Yet here she is today walking among us, and that is a great gift and a great mystery.

Nothing less is true of any of us. There is no reason any of us should necessarily be alive and walking around today. Human life is contingent—it depends on the correct alignment of so many circumstances and if even one of them is lost or even altered, we fade away unnoticed like the unborn. Think about how many generations came before you, and what if one couple three hundred years ago had not met or not married? You would not be here. The odds were profoundly against all of us, except for the force of God’s providence. In less philosophical terms, human life is frail. All of us know this. At any moment a human life can be destroyed with the flip of a switch, the cutting of a tube, the pull of a trigger. It is not to be taken lightly or for granted that any of us are alive and walking about. It is a great gift and a great mystery. That is why we are all called, like Gianna, to “not die easily.”

Many are Gianna Jessen’s weaknesses and difficulties. But she does not take them as a sign that her life is not worth living, because she has a piece of evidence to the contrary that trumps any hardship she might face, and that is: the fact that she is alive to begin with. She recognizes that the only reason she is alive is because God chose for whatever reason not to call her home yet. So with us. The only reason we are alive is because God wills us to be. And if he wants us to live, then he wants us to live with all our hearts, to know that life is worth living, not in spite of our hardships but because of them. Gianna lives her life in the face of all her challenges, in spite of the frailty of her life, in spite of the fact that in the eyes of some she was never meant to be. And that’s all she has to do to be a shining light of the Gospel of Life.

If pro-lifers are to be witnesses to the Gospel of Life, their witness must extend beyond their activism. A cornerstone of the spirituality of St Josemaria Escriva, the founder of the much-maligned Opus Dei, was the call to witness to God’s glory in regular activities. In performing each task to the best of our ability, and making it a sacrifice to God. In speaking with charity to and appreciating the humanity of everyone with whom we come into contact, even those who disagree with us. In hanging out with friends. In going to work. In playing sports. In meeting the suffering and the sinful (including ourselves) of the world where they are and inviting them to something better. Inviting them not to die so easily. That is how we refuse to die easily. That is the fullness of life.