theologia perennis: The Armchair Theologian

The Melody of Faith: Theology in an Orthodox Key

2012-01-28T02:49:00.001-08:00

By Vigen Guroian, eerdmans.com, 158 pages.

Books such as The Melody of Faith show the impressive depth of Orthodox theology. These theologians seem to have never lost their focus on the central issues of the faith. Jesus Christ and the spiritual consequences of his life, death, and resurrection are held as central, and inform every other area of discussion.

In other words, the discussion never wanders far from this main concern. Guroian even notes that ethical behavior is not all there is to being a Christian. When discussing redemption, he focuses not on our work of doing good but on Christ himself as both healer and the medicine itself. From Christ's grace, good and moral actions will follow because of the healing that occurs.

The lack of moralizing rises from the fact that Orthodox theology tends to lack the Western legalistic basis to redemption, whereby Christ's death was a ransom paid to the devil or a way to satisfy God's wrath over our sins. Instead, humans are seen to be in need of a physician. We need to be healed. Thus sin is not something that leads to guilt-oriented sermonizing, but to the proclamation of healing through Christ.

The Melody of Faith discusses Mary, God-bearer or theotokos, at length. The author notes that the Orthodox do not subscribe to the Immaculate Conception, but they do nonetheless revere the Mother of God, for whom she is also the Mother of the Church. Guroian observes, "Whereas Eve asked no questions of the Serpent ... Mary scrupulously interrogated her angelic visitor."

This is an important point, according to the author, as it shows that Mary "exercised her freedom and made her choice to bear the Son of God with total sobriety." Eve, through her lack of questions to the serpent, was easily deceived.

The fall of man, and Christ's redemption, have theological consequences. While most theologians wander off into political causes and moralizing without setting proper theological foundations, The Melody of Faith keeps the discussion focused on the most important issues for Christians.

Central to this writing style is the lack of sentimentalizing Jesus. The Son is the Son of God who defeated the evil one, and not someone who will make us feel warm and fuzzy. Sin and evil are not moral or psychological, but theological issues.

Holiness is not about perfecting a specific moral code, supporting the correct political solution, or achieving a state of spiritual bliss. It's about sharing in the personhood of Christ, Guroian notes:

"Holiness comes about in a relationship to Christ and our Mother Mary. It is shared. Holiness consists in keeping and remembering what God has done in Christ through his mother for all of humankind. Holiness is a personal state of wholeness and spiritual wellness...Holiness is ecclesial, entirely related and connected to the other great marks of the church: unity, catholicity, and apostolicity."

This sort of theological writing can help inspire Christians and all people to accept Christ as their King.

December 1941

2011-12-10T07:54:00.000-08:00

By Craig Shirley. www.thomasnelson.

Craig Shirley gets readers as close to the cultural action as possible in this day-by-day account of what happened in December 1941. He offers many insights into the isolationist America that, even with storm clouds on all horizons, still believed, perhaps a little naively, that it could avoid participating in hostilities.

The author's love for FDR comes through clearly. The President was the right man for the right job, and had done everything in his power to help the British against Hitler, yet also maintain peace between America and Japan. Yet Shirley does repeatedly raise questions about how the White House and the military were so befuddled as to allow for the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. For instance, the Japanese trade office in Hawaii had a great vantage point of the harbor, and could do extensive spying.

Readers get bogged down in the author's repetition. Each day is recorded in the book through a perusal of the papers. This means that boring events that carried significance at the time but none now, such as various government and military hearings into why the Japanese were able to succeed at their sneak attack, are covered in more detail than is needed. Shirley also repeatedly reports on the same thing in each chapter - the dynamic changes to Washington; military capabilities; the war economy; and celebrity gossip. Readers are bogged down in meaningless trivia and insights, such as regarding D.C.'s exponential growth, that need mentioning only once.

On the whole, a rather boring, overly-detailed read of what is a very important part of American history.

The Maronites: The Origins of an Antiochene Church

2011-11-25T20:09:00.001-08:00

By Abbot Paul Naaman, 199 pages, cistercianpublications.org.

Abbot Naaman shows how Christian the Eastern part of the Mediterranean was in ancient times, before Islam's expansion. Ancient Syria boasted Aramaic- and Syriac-speaking church fathers, and a monastery-dotted landscape. Along with the Greek Byzantines and the Egyptian Christians, these centers of theology were debating big questions, such as the nature of Christ in his human and divine natures, long before Europe had become Christendom.

The Second Council of Ephesus in 449 and the Council of Chalcedon in 451 form the backdrop to the events in Syria at this time. Imperial intrigue meshed with church politics and theological issues. Theology, in fact, was a political issue.

Naaman excels at keeping things clear for his readers, who are probably unaware of much of the history and the contribution of the "Orientals, including the Syrians.

Syrians such as Theodoret, bishop of Cyr in northern Syria and founder of a monastery which would play a key role in the formation of the Maronite church, was a controversial figure censored at Second Ephesus but rehabilitated at Chalcedon, where in fact he worked closely with the legates from Rome in formulating key canons of the Council on Christology (the nature of Christ).

Theodoret was a gifted churchman who participated in politics, the church hierarchy, and theological debate. He was a church builder.

Theodoret was also a product of the Syrian church. At this time Christianity almost always expanded through the work of missionary monasteries. Monks did the chief evangelizing work by establishing themselves in under-Christianized areas, or in the case of ancient Syria, where the church was split due to theological controversy. Orthodox monks would establish a monastery where they could fight heresy.

Syria at the time of Theodoret had already long established a rich Christian heritage, like the other centers of ancient Christianity, Armenia, Egypt, and Asia Minor. Monasticism, including a more hermit, or eremetical, style, was a deep part of the culture.

Maron, a friend of John Chrysostom, was a fifth-century hermit priest who built a community known as the Maronites. An anchorite, or solitary, he lived on top of a mountain, and soon attracted followers, as was usual. These hermits were the spiritual guides of the larger Christian community, and though they tended to submit to the local bishop, they too had a parallel power in their counseling and prayer service to the community. "The lives of these ascetics made a tremendous impression on their contemporaries," Abbot Naaman notes.

Marcion was the other pillar of early Syrian Christianity. While he initially tried the solitary life, he eventually lived more closely to community than Maron did. Abbot Naaman gives us a clear sense of the importance of such leaders to ancient Syrian Christianity, which was a more masculine, demanding, and ascetic church than contemporary Christianity: "His reputation for saintliness was so great that people walked four days to come and visit him." Though Marcion was more moderate in his ascetic practices than Maron, he influenced Syrian Christianity deeply.

Syrian Christianity practiced asceticism rather than pop-psychology, so it is worth studying as a way for us to become more Christ-centered.

Useful Servanthood: A Study of Spiritual Formation in the Writings of Abba Ammonas

2011-11-18T09:46:00.000-08:00

By Bernadette McNary-Zak, 169 pages, litpress.or

Useful Servanthood is part of an eccentric series of books from Kalamazoo-based Cistercian Publications of works about or by the Desert Fathers of Egypt. If you think medieval theologians and saints such as Bernard of Clairvaux or King Saint Louis of France led interesting or ascetic lives, wait till you read this series.

Abba Ammonas, a follower of St. Anthony, seems like he's following another religion because of the sharply different society and "worldview" that he had from ours. The author introduces the reader to ancient Christian Egypt, its Christian society and practice of discipleship.

The search for holiness formed the entire focus of these monks' lives. Though they lived alone in their cells far removed from other monks in the same community, they nevertheless fashioned a strong network of fatherly spiritual counselors and their disciples. This chiefly occurred through the exchange of letters as well as travel. Even old monks would travel to visit some of their charges.

Readers get a sense of the lively Christian spirituality these people followed. The spiritual elders were respected because they had developed "discernment," the ability to understand what God wanted for a certain person.

Theology for these people was not the academic and therapeutic religion that Christianity has now become. These ancient Christians based their lives on a close relationship with God the Father. They had a deep sense of their own sin and consequent guilt before the Father, and of their need for Jesus Christ. They could discern the work of the Holy Spirit in their lives, and warn others of the wiles of Satan. The formation of a prayerful monastic community was the aim of both monastic leaders and followers.

Sabbath

2011-11-18T09:42:00.000-08:00

By Dan B. Allender, thomasnelson.com.

Allender, a clinical psychologist and theologian at Seattle's Mars Hill Graduate School, has written Jesus Christ, God the Father, and the Trinity out of Christianity, and has replaced this all with.... himself.

As with so much contemporary Catholic or Protestant theology, the author loves to write about his own thoughts, feelings, and relationships. The few times that he mentions Jesus, Allender does so in reference to himself, and those all-important thoughts, feelings, and relationships.

Jesus is not the Savior, the One who bridges the unbridgeable gulf between humanity and God the Father. Jesus serves Allender's feelings. Therapeutic theology at its best, Sabbath is the sort of nonsense that is emptying churches, especially of men.

Sabbath is the very definition of triteness: It is empty and tedious, and offers nothing new. Again and again, the words mean nothing. What do the following thoughts mean?:

"A Sabbath is a safe and cozy day to explore. This doesn't imply that a Sabbath has no risk or danger - it is danger chosen as fitting our comfort." Again: "The privilege to walk hand in hand with time doesn't come because you merely yearn for it or know it would be good for yourself and your family."

These sentences don't mean anything. They are fluff claiming to be theology. Sabbath is more than a waste of time because it falsely claims to be theology. It's like reading Eat, Pray, Love as marital advice.

Why Men Hate Going to Church

2011-11-12T08:43:00.000-08:00

By David Murrow, thomasnelson.com.

This revised version of the original book offers churchgoers a reality check. Church emasculates men, and offers an environment rich in feminine thinking and visual cues. It therefore repels men. Yet without the risk-taking, energy, and skills that men possess, churches decline.

Through observation, case studies, anecdotes, and common sense, author David Murrow tries to shake things up. He outlines the deep historical roots of feminine Christianity, going all the way back to the Middle Ages.

Everything about the way churches function, the big things and the little things, pleases women and ignores men. This means that men just don't have the skills that match churchgoing. Churches need soft and cuddly Sunday school teachers and musical people who like to sing for 30 minutes. They ask for people good at establishing and maintaining networks of relationships. The hug, weep, pray for 10 minutes, hold each other, and share their feelings. All terrible things for men.

This analysis is most powerful when Murrow suggests activities churches could do that would utilize men's skills.

The language of the churches is also feminine. Intimacy, including passionate intimacy, with God is highlighted. Homoerotic images are often evoked, such as resting in the arms of Jesus. What man wants to hear this?

What man says to another man, "Let's have a personal relationship." Why would having "a personal relationship" with Jesus be appealing for a man?

Murrow keeps things real, often showing how men simply do not fit into the churches. To borrow from Ronald Reagan, "Men didn't leave the church. The church left men." Murrow shows how this has happened, and offers ideas on a better way.

Good Work: Christian Ethics in the Workplace

2011-11-04T10:36:00.000-07:00

By Esther D. Reed, 129 pages, baylorpress.com.

While certain strains of Christianity, within both Protestantism and Roman Catholicism, have inspired many of the worst aspects of modern capitalism, Christianity holds the answers to the problems caused by the modern economy. Reed's well-balanced discussion displays none of the anti-Christian rhetoric common to many such works, as she is herself a theologian and writes from within the religion.

She finds hope in Orthodox icons, the writings of John Paul II, Protestant writers, and the Bible. Getting back to the heart of the tradition will reorient Christians so that their economic activity will serve Christ. She does not argue for an immature escapist position whereby Christians should somehow head into the woods and avoid gainful employment.

First, from Orthodox icons she reminds readers of the transformative, transfigurative aspect of Christianity. Through Christ we mysteriously participate in the life of God. This practice can make us less predisposed to participate in today's mindless, ever-growing consumerism. Icons, by giving us a glimpse of heaven, remind us that our work, rather than being about money, worldly success, and acquisitiveness, carries eternal meaning. What we do has a spiritual dimension.

Reed highlights the thoughts of John Paul II that are more critical of capitalism. The late pontiff emphasized the dignity of the human being, and showed how work was a reflection of this dignity. He obliged business owners to respect that dignity by ensuring, for instance, that working conditions were not abusive. Yet he reminded his readers that the Church's task was not to outline a specific economic model. Christians were called to live their lives in the marketplace, and this would transform the economy.

From the Bible, St. Paul's tent-making ministry can inspire Christians. He did not see his trade as a vocation in itself, importantly, but as a way to live his higher vocation. Working Monday to Saturday enabled him to preach Christ on Sunday: "the normality of daily life is taken for granted by Paul and is not elevated by him to the level of a vocation or particular call."

Reed repeats a major theme of her book, which is that many Christians have gotten carried away with equating their work with their vocation. She warns that this can put a spiritual gloss on demeaning or mindless work. While all Christians can have a vocation, and "Vocations are not reserved only for the clergy," not all work is vocation.

Corporations, Reed warns, are turning the work-as-vocation into an excuse to turn us all into workaholics. They promise that through a spiritualized work we can actualize ourselves. Companies spiritualize what is in reality a "fiercely competitive workplace ethic." Importantly, she concludes, "Christian discipleship does not necessarily place a theological or spiritual obligation on believers to seek their vocation in the workplace." Christians can relax, and stop forcing themselves to be super achievers.

Though Christianity got us into this workaholic mess by claiming that work was vocation, by challenging many assumptions and reading the biblical and patristic sources closely, and listening to the wisdom of John Paul II's encyclicals Laboren Exercens and Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, we can begin to define better our real Christian vocations and put our paid work into perspective.

A timely book for our workaholic society.

Between Relativism and Fundamentalism: Religious Resources for a Middle Position

2011-10-28T20:34:00.001-07:00

Edited by Peter L. Berger, eerdmans.com, 209 pages.

Between Relativism and Fundamentalism, a collection of essays by various authors, offers an academic, sociological approach, showing how changes and trends in Christianity were part of larger society-wide changes and trends. The authors retrace some of the errors made by Christianity as it has proclaimed the gospel in a modern world often skeptical of religious belief.

Berger for one accuses Christians of focusing too heavily on morality, and not enough on God. Christians have, he observes, equated morality with spirituality. In the rush to fit into the modern world, they have forgotten to proclaim the simple good news of the risen Christ.

The book's strength is its ability to see weaknesses in the current state of church affairs, rather than the situation from 2 or 3 decades ago. For instance, the authors discuss how the modern push towards individualism in all areas of life has deeply influenced the churches and their messages. Fundamentalists have offered people who feel overly isolated and vulnerable a sense of security and safety, and strong community. This comes at the cost of becoming closed to others, to society at large. A negative result is a we-they mentality.

Fundamentalism, despite claiming to be traditional, is thus a very modern phenomenon. Truly traditional people, from traditional places with corresponding lifestyles, tend towards a middle ground. Outsiders or the unconventional are noted, but not bullied or rejected. Traditional communities tend, in fact, to give such people a place somewhere in the community. Fundamentalists make no such attempt at openness.

Relativism, a more obvious product of the modern world, presents the social sciences, such as sociology, economics, and psychology, as the replacement for traditional wisdom and religious practice, and promotes a sense of subjectivity. These are the people always talking about the latest psychological study. Objective truth is rejected, including the deposit of faith proclaimed by the Catholic church.

Relativism, produced from the mixture of cultures in modern culture that we often call pluralism, tries to create civic peace by lessening the voice of tradition, especially religious tradition, and by celebrating every sort of alternative lifestyle. It claims falsely to be value-free. In reality, it has very strong values, such as accepting anything non white male Christian, and regarding everyone who is not a straight white male as a victim of society (its various -isms).

Berger makes an interesting point, perhaps seen by Catholics on Sunday, of the tendency in an age of relativism to reduce church membership and religious identity to a kind of spiritual consumerism. People shop around for their favorite priest, the one with the jokes, charisma, or shortest mass. This consumer assertiveness reduces the sense of duty and responsibility.

One author notes, "modernization can be described as a gigantic shift in the human condition from one of fate to one of choice." Parish-shopping, among other practices, reflects the "de-institutionalization" of modern society, wherein people no longer feel automatic obligations to their institutions of birth, such as the church in which they were raised or the parish in their neighborhood.

The book also offers hope to the community- and tradition-minded, showing a more authentic way forward. It shows the current of modern beliefs and attitudes against which Catholics are swimming.

Monastic Observances: Initiation into the Monastic Tradition 5

2011-10-22T08:14:00.000-07:00

By Thomas Merton, 335 pages, litpress.org.

The intellectual and spiritual life Merton sought for himself and others, reflected in Monastic Observances 5, portrays the best not only of Merton but of the Catholic tradition he so loved. The book's material was taken from the notes Merton used for teaching as Novice Master at the Cistercian Monastery in Kentucky, Gethsemane.

His keen psychological insights into the contemplative life does not mirror modern pop psychology or the social sciences. Rather, they reflect Merton's own monastic lifestyle, and the training it demanded, as well as his reading of the Bible, Church Fathers, and medieval scholastics. He has broadened Catholic theology and spiritual practice with his integration of the Eastern Fathers.

Above all, Merton calls his brothers to a practical life. This differs sharply, surprisingly, from the utilitarian approach to life offered to us all by present-day capitalists. He cites the exterior "pitfalls" of laziness, sloppiness, messiness, and also noisiness. Doors should be closed quietly; brothers should walk without noise; and eating should be modest and mannerly.

Much of this contrasts with our own day, even within the Church at present. He warns, for instance, against "subjectivism," the practice of giving our own viewpoints a high regard. When discussing the Eucharist, he warns against judging one's own feelings too much when receiving communion. Psychological games, working oneself into a certain feeling, is a meaningless distraction.

His discussion on the Eucharist is detailed, full of practical advice for how to best approach the Lord's Supper, yet also highlighting the basic theology behind the sacrament: "the Mass is the Passion of Christ. When I am assisting at Mass, I am present at the Passion... The Mass becomes, in fact, a meditation on the Passion."

Merton rejects a psychological or sentimental view of the Mass or the Eucharist. Something happens at Mass, specifically with the Eucharist. He explains this in detail, discussing the prayers used, as well as the meaning behind the rubrics of the Mass.

Again, he rejects sentimentalism, noting that the fruits of the Mass include increased charity in the heart and actions of the believer, "quite apart from any feelings or conscious desires of charity."

Merton's simplicity also affects his view of lectio divina, or sacred reading, when Christians read not simply to fill our brains but as a spiritual practice. In lectio divina, the prayerful style of reading practiced by monks, the point is not to finish a book or arrive at some higher intellectual understanding, but to grow in the spiritual life, to have a deeper relationship with God.

Reading in this way flows into the daily meditation and prayer of a monk, which is centered in the Mass. Thus Merton envisions a unity. The monk's day should not be fragmented into work, pray, work, pray, eat, and so on. The bells, which are a call to holiness according to Merton, call the man from one meditative, prayerful action, such as his daily work routine, to another meditative, prayerful action, such as evening prayer.

Centered on the Eucharist and the internal unity of the man, which feeds the external unity of the monastic community, Monastic Observances 5 shows Merton's deep respect for the Catholic tradition and suspicion of innovation. He was a most unrevolutionary monk.

Knight: The Medieval Warrior's (Unofficial) Manual

2011-10-14T09:31:00.000-07:00

By Michael Prestwich, 208 pages, thamesandhudson.com.

The medieval knight was more than just a soldier; he was a soldier of Christ. Despite the barbarity of those times, prelates often succeeded in tempering the almost constant violence. In many ways, the medieval Latin Church fostered peace, including by instilling a code of conduct for warriors.

Knight is a fun read for older children and for adults, as it enters into the chivalric world as a kind of guidebook, addressing the aspiring Christian knight in the fourteenth-century.

The rite of initiation into knighthood included a fair amount of religious preparation, even if being knighted was not a sacrament. The culture of chivalry was the culture of Christianity, mixed with Islamic, ancient Greco-Roman, and Germanic warrior cultures.

The author, a contemporary British historian, shows how steeped in Christianity chivalry was. Both knighthood and Christianity were seen as the good fight, where the soldier often could not live up to expectations. Both paths demanded much of the participant, and failure was easy to come by, because of both external and internal causes:

"There is a difficult balance to be struck between the ideals and the practicalities of warfare. The knight is challenged and often defeated on the battlefield by common soldiers armed with bow and pike; he fights on foot more than on horseback, and the guiding principles of chivalry often seem in reality to become those of guile, deceit, profit and cruelty."

Evils such as deceit and cruelty were evils only because Christianity said they were. Knights were, in other words, forced to live up to Christian ideals, even when fighting and killing.

In fact, service to the Church and Christian ideals formed the core of medieval knighthood. The day before the knighting ceremony the man wore a red tunic, symbolizing his willingness "to shed blood in defending the faith." Black socks symbolized the knight's mortality, a white belt his purity and chastity, and a red cloak his humility. After putting all of this on, he went to a church, sometimes all night, for a vigil.

When knights fought for the Church, it may have been as part of evangelizing, as with the Teutonic Knights who were fighting the pagan Lithuanians in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, with full crusading privileges granted them by the papacy.

Knights also fought under crusading privileges at this time in Iberia, where Granada and a few other areas were not yet under Christian control. Yet the Muslims there were battle-hardened, having fought the Reconquista for many centuries.

A third area of Christian knightly fighting was against the Turks in the Balkans. Because of the military skills of the Turks, the Hungarian and Serbian rulers, sometimes aided by French, Burgundian, or English knights, often did badly.

Just as a Mass preceded the knighting ceremony, so knights throughout their lives practiced Christian piety, attending Mass and paying for Masses to be said after they died. These men played an integral role in Christendom, and just as they fractured as a Christian fighting class by the fourteenth-century, so Christendom itself would fracture by the early sixteenth-century with the Protestant Reformation, by which time the ideals of knighthood had started to unravel.

Prestwich captures the spirit of the age in an accessible way for all readers.

Jungle Warfare: A Basic Field Manual for Christians in Sales

2011-09-30T20:25:00.000-07:00

By Christopher A. Cunningham, thomasnelson.com, 209 pages.

Jungle Warfare, which can be read by everyone and not only salespeople, evokes the ancient Christian belief that the spiritual life is a life of warfare. Good and evil have opposed each other since the beginning, and Christ has already won the battle. As his followers, we have chosen the winning side, but the battle in this world, mysteriously, continues.

Every day is a battle. Cunningham warns that, like the soldiers fighting WWII in the jungle, we must be prepared and vigilant at all times. The enemy can spring up at any time, and if we are out of shape or unfocused he can easily defeat us. We are as strong as we think. Our strength comes from being prepared ahead of time through Christ.

The author warns, "you also battle a deadly spiritual enemy who prowls around like a jungle cat wishing he could devour your soul. He and his commandos lie in wait, scheming and plotting about how they can throw anything in your path that will not only destroy your career but also your reputation, relationships, and rewards."

Just as Christ battled evil in the world, so we must do spiritual battle with the Lord on our side. But the biggest war is within, just as it is for the soldier in the jungle, where he confronts dehydration, terrible insects, cramps from insufficient salt intake, dirty water, and his own self-doubt and disorganization. Staying fit and focused are the most important ingredients to success.

Wisely, the author closely links the fear of God with the sense of sin. The world, even the Christian world, has lost this sense, while simultaneously losing the awe, reverence, and worship of God that we can call the fear of God. God has become a big fluffy plaything who makes us feel better and justifies our actions and politics, whereas each human has become the sum total of her emotions. When we talk about God, we tend to discuss how God makes us feel better and gives in to our wishes.

Jungle Warfare offers no such God, largely because the Bible offers no such God. Instead, Scripture teaches us a much more militia Christi, spiritual warfare-type of Christian living that places us in the midst of something much more important than our ever-changing sentiments. Cunningham offers readers a Biblical spirituality.

The following words on the spiritual life, then, do not get overly wrapped up in emotions, and instead point us towards a Christ-centered rather than me-and-my-feelings-centered life: "I feel the presence of God's Holy Spirit as He leads me through the jungle in the presence of my enemies. When I go at it alone, I get lost. I start battling man, nature, and spirit -- and I usually get into trouble."

In other words, the feelings-centered approach is exactly what not to cultivate in the spiritual life, because we cannot really trust ourselves. Our sinfulness, which can act through our emotions, can easily lead us astray.

The Bible, Cunningham argues, has a battle plan for us to use in our spiritual battle. We must be ever ready to confront the enemy within and the enemy in the world.

Julian of Norwich: A Contemplative Biography

2011-09-25T00:43:00.000-07:00

By Amy Frykholm, 147 pages, Paraclete Press.

Julian of Norwich, (1342 – 1416), dissatisfied with an ordinary spiritual life, desired something deeper. Like many saints and theological reformers, she loved Jesus so deeply that she wanted to share in his suffering.

Perhaps this zeal, the author notes, came from her inability to reconcile the sense of God as loving and forgiving with the popular teachings of the medieval church on hell and purgatory. The outbreak of the pestilence, which caused tremendous suffering in Norwich, also contrasted with this merciful image.

Medieval Christians valued suffering as a path to Christ's passion. Julian, like many, wished to share in the Lord's pain physically as well as spiritually.

Wracked with illness in the heat of her spiritual search, she finally had her breakthrough: "in an instant, everything changed. The pain that had preoccupied her for days went away, like the lifting of a curtain. Then the cross that the priest held in front of her face started to bleed...A voice spoke in her vision and said, 'With this the Fiend is overcome.'" She realized that she was
"watching Christ die," and had received her request of suffering along with Jesus on the cross.

This countered the heavy sense of sin with which she, as a member of medieval society, had been burdened.

Julian's Franciscan spiritual advisor played a vital role in her spiritual development from this time on, showing her how to pray through the Bible (lectio divina), encouraging her to write her visions and thoughts down, and supporting her decision to become an anchoress, a female hermit tied to a parish church under the protection of the local bishop.

As the years passed, rather than forgetting about the visions, her memory of them was enriched through her prayer and study, and she found deeper and deeper meanings to them. Yet their essential message, about God's mercy, remained the same.

Readers get a sense that Julian's work, including her spiritual counseling to visitors, was not without its dangers. Her writing was accomplished entirely outside of ecclesiastical structures, even if it was done with the advice of her counselor.

The religious unrest that would eventually explode into the Reformation and the resulting bloody religious wars was already deeply felt. Authorities, civil and religious, regarded women leaders and thinkers as a threat, so Julian must have been scared. Frykholm reminds the reader of the great new direction that Julian's theology was taking.

Led by the Franciscans and their ministry to the growing urban areas of Europe, the church was focusing more and more on the inner state. While the sacraments retained their central role in church life, the friars encouraged reflection on one's personal relationship with Jesus.

Frykholm shows how this change included women, who were taking religious matters into their own hands more and more, though with a trusted spiritual advisor. The friars often allowed such people to speak freely and to develop a critical self-awareness.

As Frykholm shows, Julian of Norwich was only one of many, women and men, who were challenging the medieval Church's institutional structures. This springtime of mysticism included The Cloud of Unknowing, Thomas a Kempis' Imitatio Christi, and a host of fourteenth-century mystics who, though obedient to the Church and its sacramental system, practiced a more interior spirituality.

Julian of Norwich played a central role in this revolution.

Infinitive Bandwidth: Encountering Christ in the Media

2011-09-16T09:44:00.000-07:00

By Eugene Gan, emmausroad.com, 148 pages.

"[I]t often seems as if the most surefire way to win an Academy Award is to make a film devoid of hope, devoid of light," Franciscan University of Steubenville professor Gan notes. He offers a remedy based on the consistent, balanced teaching of the magisterium, which since the 1930s has been outlining its vision of the underlying principles and basic functions of the media.

Gan grounds his argument in basic theology. God is good, humanity is fallen, and media can inspire us to do good or evil. Beware, in the age of relativism, because money, political correctness, and high production standards are the greatest virtues of movie, video, or website production. That leaves prudence, charity, hope, faith and the other cardinal virtues out of sight and out of mind. Gan, conversely, uses these virtues as the key to understanding Catholic teaching on media and its uses.

He weaves psychological insights throughout the book, demonstrating the powerful psychology behind the media. Sitcom viewers, for instance, can become quite attached to their favorite character, and when they find out that he is gay, their perception of homosexuality can be jarred. Media works at the sensory level, so induces emotional rather than intellectual responses. People begin to have different feelings about certain issues, such as gay marriage, and then begin to reason differently. The Church, then, appears distant and preachy when it calls homosexuality sinful and disordered. How can the Church be so judgmental about gay guys like the lovable one on TV?

Yet the media's emotive power can also work for the good, as demonstrated with Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. Not only movies possess such power: "truth can be woven into a ... song, a video game, even a Facebook page. It can be made part of a story. And the story can do what we can't. It can connect with people on the level of emotion.... It catches people off their guard, shining a light on truths they didn't know existed," Gan notes.

The media, in other words, offers Christians an infinite number of possibilities for presenting their case to the world. The Church encourages us to use such technologies to their full potential. Gan argues convincingly that Catholics, especially parishes, should update their websites and use more interactive media technology. He stays close to practicalities, listing ways that they can do this.

Be interactive. Avoid leading internet users towards long-winded pdf files, and offer lots of video, hyperlinks, and opportunity for comments. Gan notes that most parish websites offer no way for members to sign up for activities online, and few offer blogs. A lack of blogging gives the impression that parishes are cold, indifferent, and unable to connect. The daily lives and insights of parish leaders and priests are not online, plugging in to the lives of others online.

Blogs are fantastic ways to get in touch with people, and Gan offers the example of two Catholics who have talked about their faith and families in their blogs, making them popular and effective online evangelists. Their highs and lows, interspersed with Catholic-centered wisdom, relates with people encountering the same problems.

Readers of Infinite Bandwidth get the strong sense that online evangelism is not the buzzword in Catholic circles that it should be. It has not been incorporated into the New Evangelism in the way that, perhaps, the theology of the body has. No sense of urgency pushes Catholic leaders to give more power and dynamism to their online message. Unfortunately, without these interactive possibilities, parishes are not connecting, whereas websites promoting easy sex, meaningless violence, and narcissistic attitudes are flourishing, reaching out as never before.

Gan's theological and ethical discussions, which form the foundation of his attitude towards media, are effective and to-the-point. When explaining the evils of pornography, he sounds like the university professor he is who has had to explain tirelessly the evils of pornography to questioning, skeptical young adults: "Pornography reduces human beings to the level of animals, controlled by appetites and motivated by little more than a selfish desire for pleasure."

Sexting is the other terrible online evil destroying young people's sense of self as well as their ability to relate with others in a healthy way. Sexting reveals the lack of a fundamental orientation towards the world, oneself, and good and evil. Devoid of this moral faculty, teens fall prey to peer pressure and their own, still-maturing, emotions. Gun concludes, "Only in a world made up solely of other fifteen-year-olds does a teenage girl think it's a good idea to send pornographic pictures of herself to a teenage boy's cell phone." In other words, where the hell are the parents? The teachers? Older brothers or sisters? The Church? Why is even the most fundamental moral guidance not given today? Why aren't teens developing even the most basic notions of right and wrong?

The answer is that they, like all of us, are becoming increasingly disconnected from the world, from reality, even as we twitter and friend and blog away, viewing the world through youtube and skyping free of charge around the world. Gan makes the point repeatedly that these kids are connected digitally and globally like never before, yet disconnected from the reality right in front of their nose like never before. They have Facebook friends from all over but are too easily distracted to read deeply or engage in frank discussions with their parents. They text at the dinner table rather than talk to parents and siblings.

The same reverence for our bodies that is missing in sexting and pornography is also missing in "slasher films" such as Saw and the Nightmare on Elm Street movies, Gan notes. Such movies offer an anti-Christian image of humans, refuting the notion that we are made in God's image and therefore should cultivate "a willingness to give and sacrifice for others, and the ability to control, restrain, and properly direct one's desires." These Catholic ideals are hardly mainstream in our age of nihilism, and the media often reflects the precise opposite.

The Church counters nihilism, a form of hopelessness, by calling for respecting the dignity of the human being. Even Catholic teens and young adults, Gan notes, follow this nihilistic tendency, and have little clue as to how they can stop being passive consumers of media and start to shape it more actively and to consume it more critically. They have never thought that they could take more control over the media.

Harshly, he cites studies showing that today's American teens, because of social media which put the individual at the center of their own digital world, are the most narcissistic individuals in the world. He notes the consequence: "many teens don't recognize the potential of media to do anything other than improve their social standing. They don't see it as a tool to spread the Faith or educate themselves about the Napoleonic Wars. They see it as a tool to talk to their friends, listen to music, and simply be entertained." Superficial, they grasp at nothing deeper than the moment and their place in it, satisfied with a digital universe.

Like most of us, they are unaware of the tremendous possibilities for evangelization on offer from today's media. The Internet is a blessing from God if we use it correctly. Their indifference or ignorance of this is a big loss, since today's youth, the author points out, are at the vanguard of the New (Digital) Evangelization. Unlike middle-aged adults, they have been using computers and the Internet all their lives, and are therefore digital natives. The Internet and social media is their realm.

Only they can fully utilize this technology to reach the un- and under-churched, since they speak the language of today's world better than anyone: "We can't make disciples of all men unless we go where those men are -- unless we speak their language, understand how they think, and know how to respond to their unmet needs," Gan cautions.

The power of Infinite Bandwidth, as reflected in the above words, comes from the author's experience as the instructor of these young people at his university. He struggles to mold into evangelical Catholics students who have been raised more by the digital culture, which is largely inspired by money and the Culture of Death.

Christians have allowed the media to shape ourselves, our young people, and society at large for too long. As a first step, we must assert ourselves by being more thoughtful in how we use technology. Next, we can start to shape those very technologies. Our faith should inform our presence in chat rooms, blogs, and social media. Third, we must judge the attitudes behind media, especially with pornography, from a Christian moral standpoint. "[A]ll media and all media technology," Gan notes, "should respect the dignity of the human person; be truth-filled; inspire people towards the good, the true, and the beautiful; be skillfully developed; and be motivated by and rooted in human experience."

Following this, we would be more faithful to the New Evangelization.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

2011-09-12T08:26:00.001-07:00

By Peter Leithart. 208 pages. Thomas Nelson Publishers. 2011.

Biographer Peter Leithart uses a fictionalized account, mostly through Fyodor Dostoevsky's reminiscences with an old friend, to portray the life and times of the author of Crime and Punishment.

Leithart does a terrific job fitting Dostoevsky into the intellectual and political currents of his day. He participated in intellectual circles, which occasioned his Siberian imprisonment. Rather than letting this ruin him, Dostoevsky found Christ in Siberia, by reading the New Testament and by observing the humanity of his fellow prisoners.

As one serious limitation, the author fails to portray adequately the Orthodox church, its theology, spiritual practices, and central place in Russian society. He does show how faithful Dostoevsky was to Christ, but fails to show how the great author's spirituality was Orthodox. The Russian soul was indeed Christian, as Leithart observes again and again, but it is a specifically Orthodox soul, which differs substantially from a Calvinist spirituality.

The biography succeeds at showing the everyday character of Dostoevsky, including his irritability, stubbornness, gambling and money problems, and fights with wives and mistresses. Yet he was generous to a fault, especially with relatives who took advantage of him, and held many great ideals.

For the famous writer, it all came down to Christ, and how the Lord, having redeemed Russia, would use his country to save the world.

Contemplative Vision: A Guide to Christian Art and Prayer

2011-09-09T10:41:00.001-07:00

By Juliet Benner, ivpress.com, 181 pages.

According to Benner, we can develop in contemplative prayer through our practice of enjoying artwork. Contemplation is the prayerful attentiveness to God that leads to ever-deepening conversion. Christian mystics have taught the Church this way of prayer throughout the centuries.

Benner's book fills a void, as we seem to have forgotten the central place art has played in Christianity's history. Western art's vocation was primarily to educate the faithful. Contemplative Vision shows just how much spiritual teaching Western art contains. Such paintings as Caravaggio's The Call of St. Matthew can play a similar role as icons.

Some artists such as Jean Francois Millet saw their painting as a vocation to inspire belief in others. His The Angelus depicting poor French peasants praying in their potato field with a church in the far distance invites onlookers to the childlike simple faith of these two.

Readers get a clear sense of how these paintings testified to the artist's personal religious practice: "Millet himself observed how his own father never failed to respond to the bells, stopping his work wherever he was, to pray the Angelus every day, 'piously cap in hand.'"

Benner explains the meaning of the art from a Christian viewpoint, which is how such works should be presented, rather than solely through a secular, technique-obsessed stance. Regarding The Angelus, she notes the "moment of deep and quiet reverence," which unites the praying husband and wife "in a holy alliance where God is present."

Such prayerful observation of a painting, discussed throughout Contemplative Vision, invites us to something akin to lectio divina, or "sacred reading." In this Benedictine-style of perusal, we are to go over a small passage slowly and prayerfully, learning the spiritual truth behind it rather than grasping for intellectual insight. We are to use our imagination prayerfully, as in placing ourselves into a healing scene from the New Testament.

Benner challenges us to use our imagination when we look at these paintings. She shows how artists such as Caravaggio used light and darkness to emphasize the light and dark aspects of the world or the good and sinful parts of the human soul. Where Jesus stood and called someone to follow him, we see a bright yet mysterious light, beckoning the receiver out of the dark cave of sin. The other people in the painting are ugly or engrossed in the matters of the world, as with Caravaggio's The Call of St. Matthew.

Benner also shows through her analysis of this painting the timeless, personal quality of such artwork: "That hand [of Jesus depicted in the painting] seemed to be pointing at me and inviting me to turn and follow Jesus."

These paintings can give modern Christians new insights into biblical stories heard a thousand times. We often turn off and stop hearing their real spiritual depth and insight. A painting can reawaken us. Such artwork is as valuable as the writings of the saints and theologians of the Church.

Joseph Ratzinger in Communio, Volume 1: The Unity of the Church

2011-09-02T19:42:00.001-07:00

By Pope Benedict XVI, Eerdmans, 202 pages.

Readers get vintage Joseph Ratzinger in this volume, as the then-cardinal fought a rapidly secularizing culture that was, after Vatican II, deeply influencing the Church itself. The "People of God," which Ratzinger shows to have its origins well before the 1960s, had transformed into the spearhead idea for the democratization of the Church.

Ratzinger dismisses this idea repeatedly, asserting that the Church does not get its mission or theology from the people, but from Christ. Jesus is the founder, head, and main actor of the Church.

The author is at his best when pinpointing the erroneous ways of thinking that were making their way into the Church from the outside. He is equally magnificent at discussing why certain views err. The democratic view of Church and theology has its roots in the social science view of theology and Church.

The 1970s and 80s were hotbed years for the sociological view of the Church. Notions like "rights," "experience," and "empowerment" were more important than truth, tradition, and the deposit of the faith.

Ratzinger notes that sociology throws much of Church teaching, perhaps the Church in its real nature, into doubt: "such a shift [towards a sociological viewpoint] certainly does not bring us to the kernel of the New Testament, that is, to what alone justifies the very existence of Christendom: faith in truth disclosing itself."

Sociologists tend to place the highest sovereignty in the people. This idea made many Catholic thinkers and churchgoers anti-hierarchical, readily questioning the opinions and rules given by the hierarchy. Perhaps this was a cleansing period, since theologians like Ratzinger were forced to articulate the whys and hows of the hierarchy and magisterium to skeptical audiences both within and outside of the Church.

Thus Ratzinger often goes against the grain of popular thinking, even popular thinking within the very hierarchy of the Catholic Church. As prefect of the CDF he was forced to put the brakes on certain ecumenical endeavors. Yet his reasoning points to a more mature, truth-oriented goal:

"The true chance for ecumenism does not lie in revolt against the Church as it is, in a Christianity as free of the Church as possible, but in a deepening of the reality which is the Church." The social scientist theologians of the 1970s and 80s were seeking feel-good solutions to Christian disunity, whereas Ratzinger was seeking the truth.

Regarding liturgy, a central concern of the current pontiff, he points in these writings to a sociological watering down of the truth. He notes that creativity and originality came to be the defining characteristic of liturgical prayer and music after Vatican II. The priest always had to add an original, creative spin to the prayers at Mass, and music was judged by how contemporary it was rather than how timeless and representative of the truth it could be.

In all of this Ratzinger smelled the true thinking of the sociologists, even the Catholic ones. They strongly disliked the Church because they saw it as an "institution," which in the rebellious days of the 60s, 70s, and 80s, was something to oppose.

The pages of Joseph Ratzinger in Communio offer readers a deeply fulfilling view of the Church.

J.R.R. Tolkien

2011-07-28T18:15:00.000-07:00

By Mark Horne. Thomas Nelson Publishers. 145 pages.

The author takes readers on a trip back in time to the culture that formed the great fantasy writer JRR Tolkien. Born in South Africa and raised in England, his difficult childhood didn't prevent him from developing a deep love for the rural, medieval, most poetic parts of England.

Preferring Germanic and northern European medieval culture, including the Nordic Sagas, to the Greek and Latin classics, he majored in English. The author shows how his time at Oxford and in the Great War had a lasting impression on him.

Mark Horne is particularly keen to show how Tolkien's cultural, intellectual, and religious roots deeply impacted his writing. Through various trials and even self-doubt, Tolkien never lost his artistic genius. Readers get a sense of how the great author needed to share this genius with others through his teaching and socializing with students, literary circles, and of course writing, both academic and fiction.

Tolkien was a writer at heart, starting with both poetry and his love for the northern Germanic languages, which he often taught himself. Rather than becoming a reclusive eccentric, he shared his poetry and other fiction, and his love for medieval Germania, with his friends and associates, even collaborating on books about literature.

Tolkien's genius enabled him to fuse his academic and fictional writing and interests, something that Mark Horne gets across to readers quite consistently.

Why God Won't Go Away

2011-07-19T07:49:00.001-07:00

By Alister McGrath. Thomas Nelson Publishers. 191 pages.

Christian theologian Alister McGrath spends as much time highlighting New Atheism's weaknesses as he does examining how the human hunger for God does not seem to be dissipating. The anti-theists' anger seems strange, given their supposed adherence to rationalism. If they are so rational, why do they work themselves up so much over religion?

New Atheists have become known more for their anger and disrespect than for their elegant arguments. Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, and Christopher Hitches tend to use rhetoric, based largely on their anger and hatred of organized religion, more than logic in trying to undermine a basis in belief.

Yet McGrath argues that this has actually helped religion, as it proves that even atheists promoting a "rational" worldview have trouble with their emotions and with reasoned argument. McGrath argues quite convincingly that this reflects a fear that they are losing the war, and that people are not giving up church in droves.

These writers also "cherry pick" bad episodes in Christian history, and minimize atheist guilt in the crimes of Stalin and Hitler. "Those weren't real atheists," Hitchens and the others argue, without admitting that Christians can claim that crusaders weren't "real Christians."

This inconsistency is the real irrational component in our culture wars. McGrath also discusses the rational elements of faith, and how belief can nourish reason.

Christians will feel they have won the battle after reading Why God Won't Go Away.

The Horses of St. Marks: A Story of Triumph in Byzantium, Paris and Venice

2011-07-15T21:47:00.000-07:00

By Charles Freeman, Overlook Press.com, 298 pages.

Freeman follows the journey of 4 bronze horses, an ancient quadriga, as they went from empire to empire, from Rome to Constantinople, Venice, Paris, then back to Venice. Readers get a sense of the unity of European culture, as the ancient Greco-Roman world dissolved into the Greek Byzantine empire in the east and into Venice and other bits and pieces in the Latin West.

Europe's Christianization did not alter the ancient pagan heritage, as that achievement was Christianized yet appreciated for its own worth. This demonstrates that Christianity is itself the great humanist movement of history. Truly great human achievements are celebrated by Christian society.

The quadriga was a group of 4 horses that pulled a chariot, though if the horses were 4 across, the 2 outer animals were for show, as they had no pulling power.

The 4 horses, set in Constantinople by Emperor Constantine, saw the slow Christianization of the empire even as the Byzantines clung tenaciously to the old Roman ceremonies, such as the vision of the emperor as closer to God than anyone else.

The horses witnessed the rise and slow decay of the Byzantine empire, including one of the lowest points, the Fourth Crusade in 1204, when the Latin Crusaders sacked Constantinople, led by a Doge (leader of Venice) who had manipulated the Crusade for his own revenge on the Byzantines for a past wrong.

The horses, along with much other booty, were brought to Venice and eventually placed by St. Mark's in the central Piazza, where they more or less stayed for centuries. This was the high-water of Venice and its adventurism and trade in the eastern Mediterranean.

Before the rounding of the Cape of Good Horn in 1496, this trade route was the way for eastern spices and other goods to make their way to Europe. Venice had gotten rich off this trade, as the Byzantines had turned their backs on commercialism.

The author links the horses, in their vitality, with the optimistic energy of medieval-renaissance Venice, one of the most powerful European states until the end of the sixteenth-century. Venice's success represented the first expansion of Europe, this one to the east.

Freeman details the growth of cities, trade, and culture, showing how they are all intertwined with religion. Latin Christianity never hindered progress, whether scientific or economic, and was often at the forefront of new and improved things. The religion's vitality can be seen in the Renaissance, in which Venice played a vital role, as with the artist Titian.

Trade, ancient culture, Roman Christianity, and hope in the future: Venice and its quadriga symbolize the assertiveness of the West before Western culture lost its masculinity and optimism. Throughout this book one has the sense that Western Europe, unlike Byzantine and further east, was always onwards and upwards.

The 4 horses represent the deeper spirit of Western civilization, of which Christianity has been the center for more than 15 centuries. Indirectly, then, the ancient, pagan horses symbolize the faith of the West.

The Ratzinger Reader

2011-07-08T19:35:00.000-07:00

By Lieven Boeve and Gerard Mannion, 286 pages, Continuu Books.

The current pontiff writes with unparalleled precision and elegance on theology and all of life. Rather than backing down from a theological fight, his polemics find the weak points in secularism's reasoning, as many selection in this Reader bear out.

Writing without the strong emotional-anecdotal style common in the media and universities today, he backs his positions with facts and argument from tradition. His polemics therefore do not sound like those of an angry reactionary.

Rather, readers get a sense of the deeper, timeless reasoning behind Catholic thinking. Regardless of where one sits on the political spectrum, Ratzinger is a must-read because he has become the reference point for Catholic dogma and the tradition.

His thinking, so deeply-rooted, helps readers understand why the Church is so at odds with secular thinking, and why it refuses to give in. Deeper, timeless truths are the reference point, rather than soon-to-be-refuted sociological or social science studies and findings. One gets a sense of the great yet silent confidence of someone who has spent his life searching the truth rather than seeking good feelings or simple political solutions.

His criticism of liberation theology is in turn the most opposed part of his own teachings. Yet his reasoning here remains more solid than the often sentimental-anecdotal theology of many liberation theologians.

Ratzinger has for long opposed the belief whereby the kingdom of God can be brought about on earth. Jesus brought God, not a political solution, to humanity. The current attempt to use politics to solve all our social problems is a cop out, he claims, because it relieves the individual of responsibility.

In this erroneous thinking, sin becomes social, located in structures and institutions rather than in the human heart. Every utopia, he warns, masks a rejection of ethics and thereby undermines the moral value of the thinking, acting person. All ethic comes to reside in the institution. The Christian idea of the infinite greatness of the individual soul no longer holds any meaning.

Such political views reduce all of life, especially politics, to power. Politics in a secular world no longer has the restraints of Christianity, and becomes capable of anything. The twentieth-century thus saw Lenin, Stalin, Hitler, Mao, and other atheists who hated the Church and were capable of unspeakable crimes. The century saw abortion move from crime to a "right".

Much of Ratzinger's writings thus focus on the need for a changed relationship between theology and politics, and between theology and philosophy. Both politics and philosophy have secularized, which has left both without a higher reference. They are each the poorer, and have no real inspiration.

Regarding philosophy, Ratzinger observes: "questioning founders when there is no hope of finding an answer. Faith hears the answer because it keeps the question alive."

The current pope has been at the forefront of resistance to the culture of death for over 4 decades, and as The Ratzinger Reader's editors note, he has been consistent in his theology during that time, despite how many people have represented him. This consistency revolves around his concern for the truth and support for a centralized Church where the Magisterium has the final say on doctrinal matters.

Sex Au Naturel: What It Is and Why It's Good For Your Marriage

2011-06-30T20:09:00.000-07:00

By Patrick Coffin, 134 pages, Emmaus Road.

A small book that packs a lot of punch, Sex Au Naturel counters secularism's lies about sexuality, procreation, and family through clear arguments and strong philosophy. Coffin's method shows that secularism's way of arguing, with its dollar-sense and false notion of rights, needs to go the way of the dodo because of its profoundly evil, culture of death orientation.

By separating sex from babies, society has dehumanized us all. Children are no longer seen as gifts, but as nuisances. Then, when they are desperately wanted, prospective parents claim them as "rights", demanding reproductive technology services. Coffin makes the point that the abortion and IVF (in vitro fertilization) industries are tightly connected.

They are also linked by the same mindset: Whether a child is seen as a nuisance to be contracepted or aborted out of existence, or fabricated into life by a lab tech (with the attendant tossing away of the less-than-desirable fertilized ova), the person is dehumanized. The lab, the government and its regulations, the parent or parents (which include all manner of male-female, single-couple combinations) regard the clump of cells as if it is a product.

Coffin shows with his excellent Catholic reasoning that it all begins from the acceptance of contraception. This leads to abortion, and thence to reproductive technologies, which enable designer babies.

The commodification of babies, and therefore of all of us.

The Church has been crystal clear throughout its history, despite the claims by dissenting post-Vatican II theologians. The encyclical Casti Connubi, released in 1930, was Pope Pius XI's response to the Anglican Church's acceptance of contraception, and used much tougher language than the non-combative Humanae Vitae. The popes and Vatican II have been remarkably consistent on this teaching.

Coffin puts things into perspective. Humanae Vitae came out at the most raucous point of the de-civilizing work of the 1960s, with the sexual revolution and feminism in full swing.

The author offers his own experience at a Canadian Catholic university, where the nice professors, not out to destroy anyone's faith deliberately, were nonetheless dissenting theologians. In fact, some of the speakers invited to the Catholic campus, a who's who of theological rebels, were on the way out of Christianity altogether, having long ago jettisoned their Catholic beliefs.

Again, as any good Catholic theologian, Coffin turns to natural law. He notes that moral theology's main argument against abortion and contraception has long relied on the natural law. Humanae Vitae used this line of reasoning extensively.

Coffin offers a clear and much-needed definition of the natural law. It is human participation in divine wisdom, accessible to all humans and not only through the Bible or the Church. All humans everywhere have this law of good and bad written on their hearts. The 10 Commandments, aside from the enjoinder to keep the Sabbath, are a recapitulation of the natural law.

By rejecting this law, modern secular society has turned its back on historic Church teaching and has created the culture of death. Sex without procreation is a cornerstone of this society.

The Wisdom of Stability: Rooting Faith in a Mobile Culture

2011-06-25T06:41:00.001-07:00

By Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, 163 pages, Paraclete Press.

Hartgrove asks readers to stop and ask themselves for a minute where they are and where they are headed. The modern world's "placelessness" contrasts with the rootedness required by spiritual growth.

The Bible and the Christian tradition are filled with journeys, certainly, but also with the advice that we can grow only when we confront our demons rather than run from them. We face them when we find stability. The desert fathers found their greatest demons, their greatest spiritual warfare, in their caves, alone with their thoughts.

Hartgrove returns repeatedly to the wisdom of the monastery in ancient Egypt and with the Benedictines. He writes simply of the integration of this spirituality of place into anyone's daily life:

"Stability of heart does not come naturally. But the simple rhythms of tending to body and soul - making oatmeal and saying prayers, keeping house and singing songs - bring me back to a center, to a still point that is fixed in this place."

Throughout the book, Hartgrove repeats his commitment to his physical home in a decaying part of gunshot, drug-dealing urban America. He blames restlessness for this violence, as Americans are always physically moving in the quest for the better-paid jobs.

His small, college-town city, on the way to somewhere else for thousands of students, is never a place where people put down roots. Drugs and violence result, as transient students fail to build true community.

The author warns that more and more American neighborhoods are places to somewhere else, where the fabric of community is unwinding.

America and its culture is placelessness, a sort of spiritual and community violence. People cannot put down roots and develop a community, yet neither can they put down roots to fight their personal demons. We find those demons not only in the mundane of daily life, but also in the daily grind of community.

With humor, Hartgrove reminds us of the value of clashing with others. Fighting can be good, and can draw us closer together.

The spiritual struggle is a battle over community-building, the author notes: "standing on my front porch surveying a neighborhood that has both suffered and survived this death-bound system, I cannot help noticing how our spiritual struggle is inextricably tied to this place - its heat and humidity, its highways and horticulture."

Ever the observer of practical things, he argues that one of the great tragedies of his community was the interstate highway, which made it easier for people to move to the big city. It connected his town to the wider world, and the exciting call of the wider world stole many.

The author admits, then, that even when someone does commit to staying put, community is often lacking because no one else has stayed put. Even the crack dealers move on or get arrested.

This lack of community gives modern North Americans a close spiritual connection to the desert fathers, who lived isolated lives on the fringes of their society. Anyone wanting to build community and stay somewhere is likewise on the fringe, as we have become a society without a center.