Or Maybe She’s Just a Loon

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55 responses to “Or Maybe She’s Just a Loon

  1. Correction: That should read ‘Fiat’ instead of PopeMobile. I guess he’s been downsizing.

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  2. chrissythehyphenated

    Is she still ranting? Sheesh. I stopped paying any attention to her when she went all tinfoil hat about him bowing instead of kneeling at the Consecration. I watched the video. He was standing on 12″ of step and it was live t.v. The others on his top step also bowed, while the guys behind, on lower steps, genuflected. It was clear to me that the decision was a safety issue and that Ann had totally lost her tunes.

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    • It was even worse than that. The video was ambiguous on what he did after the first elevation because of editing cuts, but when it cut back to him after the second, it showed him clearly rising from a full genuflection with hands on the altar. Her insistence that he didn’t was pure fabrication or willful blindness. And it’s only gotten worse. She now insists that he’s a materialist, a modernist and a Peronist-Fascist. Before, she only called him stupid. At least she’s gotten more specific in her off-target shooting.

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      • chrissythehyphenated

        It’s hard to understand where such hatred comes from. She makes no more sense than the Nuns on the Bus.

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  3. If Milady Webworker were commenting here instead of to me, she might say, “I love that term, ‘the jig is up.’ My mother used to say that all the time.”

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    • Me, too! Your Lady Webworker is a fun gal, I bet.

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    • chrissythehyphenated

      Got curious and found this:

      The phrase’s origins apparently come from a time where the word jig was slang for a trick. Additionally, the Facts on File Encyclopedia of Word and Phrase Origins, by Robert Hendrickson, states that this expression was used during Elizabethan times (mid-to-late 16th century), where the word jig became slang for a practical joke or trick. Thus, if “the jig was up,” it meant your trick was found out, or exposed.

      Also found this incredibly ignorant piece of speech politics:

      No one should use the term “the jig is up”. It means “the black guy is hanging in the tree” and does not belong in civilized discourse.

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  4. I wish Ann would realize what it seems the Holy Father knows – that an iron clad door will keep people out, but softness will mobilize them to seek healing and return to the church.

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    • I agree, PJ. If she and all the traditionalists are right about him, why do they continuously need to lie and distort the things he does and says? When he says the doctrines don’t need to change, but the practice of the Church does, why accuse him of lying and say “He wants to change what we believe? He’s saying it’s ok to be gay. He’s saying nothing matters.” I get that they don’t trust him, because he thinks they’re cultish and has moved against them. But you know what? I also think they’re cultish.

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      • chrissythehyphenated

        Ditto what PJ and Grunt said. Also, Jesus said He did not come for the righteous, but for sinners. Churches are full of sinners of all kinds, which I think is as it should be.

        This is NOT to say that we should say sin is okay or not teach and preach the truth or not encourage each other to repent and outgrow our failings. We should. That’s one of the vital functions of a church community.

        But if we fail to recognize that we all have fallen short, then we become Pharisees, which should immediately bring to mind planks and mill stones.

        If God was done with us, we’d be with Him in Heaven, not sitting in the pews.

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    • freedom1781

      I’m not Catholic, but I respect and admire Pope Francis a great deal. The more I hear and read about him, he seems to be the kind of Pope the Catholic church needs to bring people back, like you stated. He seems so genuine, not holier-than-thou at all. I love his humility. I wish Ann could recognize these qualities instead of bashing him all the time. She definitely has a seat on the crazy train.

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      • Indeed. So, how’s your mom’s church doing? Any improvements? Is your mom dealing with the shakeup any better?

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        • freedom1781

          I haven’t heard any recent updates from her. My mom, dad and my grandma are coming up to visit us this weekend; I’m sure her church drama will be a topic of discussion. I’m going to do my best not tick her off with my views about her denomination. After all, we are all brothers and sisters in Christ, no matter what denomination we subscribe to.

          As far as how she’s dealing with things, my mom says that “God is cleaning house and all will be okay soon.” One of my younger sisters has quit attending the church because of all this turmoil; I don’t know if she and her family have found a new one to attend. Mom’s not too happy about my sister’s decision, but she understands.

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  5. I’ve had extensive experience with people who left the church because they thought their sin was unforgivable. Often they want to believe God doesn’t forgive them because they want to punish themselves because they cannot forgive themselves or others. One cannot be condemnatory of the person. Yes, make no bones about condemning the sin, but hold your hand out to the person and treat them with the respect that belongs to a child of Christ.

    I suspect that the Holy Father is doing just that.

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    • Absolutely. Well said! Being firm on the Truth while being merciful or gentle in judgment is not “liberal.” It’s being Christ-like. Padre Pio was famous for being both harsh and gentle in his confessions, depending on the state of the soul of the person in question, just as Christ was. When he was dealing with a tough case, he was harsh and even abusive, and it was effective! When the person was fragile, he was a lamb. But he never compromised the truth.

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      • I take quite seriously the two admonitions in Matthew (9:13 and 12:7) wherein Jesus (referencing Hosea 6:6) says “I desire mercy, not sacrifice”.

        Both times, he is replying to Pharisees who are upset that the letter of the Law is being broken.

        I find this instructive, and worth remembering.

        Likewise, a Catholic either believes in the biblical institution of the Church, or they don’t. Either the Gates of Hell will not stand against it, or they will. Either we have the Catholic established understanding of that passage, or we don’t. Not much middle ground. You can’t say that Jesus established the Church, but then say He got it wrong. Jesus doesn’t lie, and He doesn’t get things wrong (2nd Person of the Trinity, yanno). So either you Trust that He meant exactly what He said per the Catholic understanding, or. . . you can be a Protestant with a Protestant understanding of that passage. Which is fine by me, just be honest with yourself about it.

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        • Beautifully said, Zoph! You are even more eloquent than before. You must be spending more time working on that book you’re writing. Not kidding.

          In fairness to Ann, she has pointed out quite clearly in the past that she does distinguish between those extreme traditionalists who think the Church, and the Papacy, have fallen into total apostasy. She doesn’t hold with them, so she doesn’t deserve the full brunt of what you just said.

          However, she is still influenced by what they write so much that she seems to believe every little crazy conspiracy they dream up about Franko. She still believes the Pope is institutionally legitimate, but that he is, personally, a monster. I think she’s entitled to that opinion. It’s not a totally heretical idea. We’ve had bad popes before. But in this case, all the evidence and historical record seems against her. She seems to be just repeating the most bitter smears against him made up by crazy people that have no basis. That makes me question her state of mind.

          For example, and I know you’ll get this because of your respect for Jesuits: She insists that the Jesuits are all leftist, Marxist revolutionaries trying to undermine the Church. Because he has a Jesuit background (like you do, being educated in a Jesuit institution), he is therefore, ipso facto, a Marxist. She doesn’t get the complexities of real life. Because Benedict Arnold was an American and a traitor to the American cause, does that make all Americans back-stabbers? Duh. She didn’t even bother to check out his history. He’s not one of THOSE Jesuits. And she discounts all the good any Jesuits have done in the history of the world with a wave of her tiny hand. It’s embarrassing. She does the same thing with all South American clergy. She just pronounces them all homosexual leftist goons. I know better, and I expect her to make her case much better than that.

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          • chrissythehyphenated

            Grunt, you are far more charitable toward Ann than she is toward any of the individuals in these groups.

            This whole thread has reminded me powerfully of a speech I heard on YouTube … pretty sure I posted it one time. The speaker was a former Planned Parenthood clinic worker who had become Catholic while still working at PP, supporting Democrat policies, and living with her boyfriend. She admitted to sneaking off to Mass like she was having an affair, because she knew that her PP friends and bf would not approve.

            She was also in spiritual direction and she told a moving story about what she called the priest’s “humility” in his interactions with her, because he trusted the HOLY SPIRIT to work in her and gave her the time and compassion to grow in God and come out of her sinful lifestyles when she was ready. At one point, he did bring up her job at PP and she just told him, “Don’t go there.” And he never did again.

            She is now a Pro-Life activist who gives a powerful testimony about how her personal values have never changed. The same compassion that led her to work for Planned Parenthood still motivates her to fight against Planned Parenthood. What changed was the INFORMATION she had about how anti-woman PP and abortion really are.

            I could really relate to what she said, because while I never fell for the Democrat lies about abortion and sex, I was suckered by them for decades on a whole host of other social issues. Like this woman, I have moved to the right politically, not because I had some “Come to Jesus” moment and repented, but because I got hold of INFORMATION that convinced me that left-wing policies are bad for people and for society. In fact, it seems they cause the most harm to the groups they claim to be designed to benefit.

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            • Thank you, Chrissy. You’re so right about the effectiveness of that priest’s humility in getting her to see her way gradually. What a blessing he is. God gives us time. Why on Earth should we not allow each other time to see?

              That reminds me of blogger MRM from 4gfc and the Treehouse blog. She recently came back to the church after 30 years away, and as fate would have it, she attends mass with my mom in my home parish in Indianapolis. She had an argument recently with one of our more uncharitable priests at that parish. He was such an ass that as she bid him good bye, she smiled and said: “I’m so glad you weren’t the first person I met when I decided to come back to the Church. I would have run away again.”

              Your “more charitable” statement cracks me up. I had a fun argument with Ann over 2 years ago about that. I asked about why she disliked Archbishop Chaput (of Denver at the time) so much. I admired him a lot. Still do. She knew him personally, and they fought a lot about policy. (Big surprise.) It sounded to me like she was most offended because he accused her of being uncharitable. She didn’t like that at all and thought he was the one who didn’t know the meaning of the word. I suggested that there might, possibly, be something to his accusation, but that didn’t get very far with her, as you can imagine. In fact, I think she’s the living, breathing, definition of “uncharitable,” but in total denial about it. Her picture should really be in Websters next to the word. But that’s just me. 😉

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          • The reason I mention it is, I suppose, due to bias from my own history.

            Back when Benedict XVI was elected, I was still one of those Feminist, Pro-Women-Priests Catholics. I was horrified by the choice of “Ratzinger” to be the new Pope. I was terrified, literally frightened, because he was so “reactionary” and “Hard-right” etc etc.

            And then, I actually took a moment to think about it, and had a good long talk with myself. Either I trusted the actual, literal Words of Jesus, or I didn’t. And if I did, then maybe I should shut up, put my biases aside, and see if maybe I could learn something here. Maybe the Holy Spirit was working something here, something beyond my pride and ideas, and maybe this was a good time to listen and observe.

            Boy, did I learn a lot in the following years. Because of that experience, I’m not prone to letting anyone, from any side, get away with Heresy Hysteria. For crying out loud, I’ve been a Heretic (I actually have the T-shirt, no lie), I’ve been excommunicate, and Pope Francis is not a heretic, he’s not a Leftist, and anyone who claims he is– let me be more specific: Any learned Catholic who claims he is, is at best being willfully obtuse on the matter. You have to go out of your way to twist history and written, established record, to claim that he is Leftist. Just as previous Leftists had to work that hard to believe that Benedict XVI was anything other than a kind, compassionate, rigorous scholar. Yes, at that time, there was a willful ignorance on my part. But, Deo Gracias, I learned better.

            I guess, from having been on the opposite end of Pope-Freakout, I see it as a matter of choices. You can choose to grant the Holy Spirit some working space, or you can choose to get in Her way. And. . . the latter is an extrememly stupid choice. Instead of participating in Pope-Freakout, and thus participating in all the damage that causes (and it does cause damage), some people (across the spectrum) should take a deep breath, and then take a moment to wonder if, perhaps, the Holy Spirit is working something here.

            She plays a very long game and, of you pay attention, you cannot but be in awe of Her Genius. So shut up, and let Her do Her Work.

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            • “(and it does cause damage)”
              Indeed.

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            • chrissythehyphenated

              Having just finished reading the Book of Wisdom, I am delighted by your use of “she” for the Holy Spirit. It was very clear to me that the Wisdom writer was speaking of the Holy Spirit, long before the concept of the Trinity was worked out. And the pronoun throughout is “she.”

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              • It works. I got no problem with it. Rather than being neither male nor female, it is perhaps better that God is both.

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              • I’ve a fair number of reasons for this. It’s one of my few remaining habits from my Feminist-Heretic days, and I find it inflames all the right (or wrong, as the case may be!) people. So yes, one of those reasons is “because I’m a Religious Troll”. 😉 I have no problem with God-as-a-whole being identified with Male Pronouns, but when speaking specifically of the Spirit, I tend toward Feminine language. And when people object. . . well. . . fun times! 😀

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  6. chrissythehyphenated

    I’m bumping my reply to down here, because the reply threads have gotten so skinny. I just wanted to add to Grunt’s remarks about his discussions with Ann re: Chaput. When I first came to the internet, back in the squeeeeeeesquawk dial up days, I hung out at AOL’s Catholic Chat. Anyone here remember that? The rooms were named Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. I was Gabbatha back then.

    There was a regular … I believe a male, s/n all caps, but I’m forgetting now exactly … something with URBAN in it. He was an intolerant man of the “Vatican II ruined the church” stripe and he very often ranted about my bishop, making claims about him that I knew for a personal fact were simply not true. I’d met my bishop, been to a number of services he conducted, went to private confession with him once and was a guest at a lunch and a dinner that he hosted. But did Mr. Intolerance ever once take my word for anything? No. He wanted to believe his hate-filled scandalous lies about my too-liberal bishop, so he did.

    One time, he and I were on together very late at night and we had the chat room to ourselves. URBAN got into his usual “pick a fight” mode about one of his handful of cranky hobby horse topics and I said I’d only play if he agreed in advance to some ground rules. He said he would, so I set out some simple rules of debate that more or less nailed his feet to the floor. Any time he strayed from productive dialogue into ranting rage, I called him out and he got back on topic.

    We finally got to a point I’d never seen him at before, which was to answer honestly, “If your pastor refused to give you communion on your tongue, what would you do?” He replied, “Stand there with my tongue hanging out.” “Even while Mass ended?” “Yes. It’s my right to receive on my tongue.”

    I told him what I still believe, which is that while he was right about it being his right, he would be in the wrong to behave as he said he would. (So far as I know, his pastor never denied him communion on his tongue.)

    I cited St. Paul’s instruction to us to avoid giving scandal and that I believed his proposed “stand there with my tongue hanging out” would constitute giving scandal.

    I also told him I believed that, as a lay person, his parish priest functioned as his spiritual superior and that he would owe that priest humble obedience in so far as the priest did not demand anything actually sinful.

    URBAN insisted again that communion on the tongue was his RIGHT and I responded that pride is a very grave sin. He left the discussion and never challenged me again.

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  7. chrissythehyphenated

    Interesting to hear MRM is a recent revert. I have a folder of our email correspondence from ways back in our HB days.

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  8. As an outsider (i.e. non-Catholic) it would be tempting for me to dismiss all the hoopla over Pope Frank on the grounds that I don’t have a dog in this fight… but of course that’s not true. We are all members of one body. The ear can’t say, because I’m not an eye, I’m not part of the body, and the foot can’t say because I’m not a hand, I’m not part of the body. (I Corinthians 12, I think)

    Those of you who know me personally know that I was raised evangelical protestant, by people who were strongly anti-Catholic; despite that, or because of it, or maybe both, I have always suffered from a bad case of Catholic envy. (The lure of the forbidden, and all that.) It started when I was still pretty young; I was sick one Sunday morning and had to stay home while everyone else went to church, and I ended up watching “Mass for Shut-Ins” on TV. The mass was in Latin, so of course I didn’t understand any of it, but it was strangely fascinating.

    My Catholic envy grew exponentially worse when I was ten years old and my father decided we were going to start going to a different church than the one I’d grown up in. (My father always decided everything; no one else, including my mother, had a vote.) The new church wasn’t really very different from the old one in any way that I could see, apart from the fact that it was a lot smaller (a congregation of dozens as opposed to hundreds), and the building they met in was even uglier. (You Catholics might not be aware of this, but there’s a certain strain of evangelical protestantism that actually prides itself on the ugliness of its churches.)

    Anyway, where our old church had been within easy walking distance of our house, the new one was several miles away, on the outskirts of town. This meant we all had to pile into the car and drive out there. The drive took us past a beautiful Lutheran church, a beautiful Methodist church, and the most beautiful one of all — the Catholic church. Every Sunday I would look longingly at those beautiful churches, with their traditional architecture and wonderful stonework and gorgeous stained glass windows, and lament (silently) the fact that our church had to be so hideous.

    When I was in my midteens my father decided we were going to switch churches yet again. By this time I was pretty fed up with him, for a number of reasons (not just the church thing, although that was certainly part of it), and I kind of rebelled. I say “kind of” because I never actually rejected Christianity, but I did end up rejecting a lot of the trappings of evangelical protestantism, and many of the things I’d been raised to believe that I no longer considered believable.

    I experimented with a lot of different churches during my late teens, ranging from the established mainline variety to the underground, do-it-yourself variety so prevalent during the so-called “Jesus movement” of the seventies, including a few groups that I would later come to regard as cults. Each new thing I tried had some things that appealed to me and some that repelled me. I was terribly conflicted about it all; I was in the process of unlearning a lot of things I’d been taught as a child that I was gradually realizing were erroneous… but when you’re just a confused teenager trying to figure all this stuff out without any competent guidance from anyone, you end up doing a lot of stupid things.

    What fouled me up probably more than anything else was that I had always suffered from desperate, insatiable longings for beauty and order that I had been trained to regard as sinful. The reason some evangelical protestants (certainly not all) pride themselves in the plainness and sheer ugliness of their churches is that they regard it as proof that they have their priorities straight — unlike those horrible idolatrous Catholics with their fancy schmancy buildings and their stained glass and their graven images and their chanting and bells and incense and so on. We pure-in-heart protestants didn’t go in for that kind of nonsense; we believed that we could worship God just as well in an ugly church. Better, in fact. Because we were focused on heavenly things, not on earthly things.

    But my deep visceral longings for beauty and order were amazingly stubborn. One Christmas Eve I was up late for some reason and happened to turn the TV on… and suddenly I found myself in the middle of a midnight mass, and a legion of angelic little choirboys with their clear pure soprano voices were singing “Adeste Fideles.” I’d had enough high school Latin by that time that I could understand at least some of it, and I started singing along… Venite adoremus, venite adoremus, venite adoremus, Dominum… with tears streaming down my face. It was probably the closest thing to heaven that I had ever experienced up to that point in my life.

    That Christmas Eve marked a turning point for me, in that I would never again consider my longing for beauty as something to be suppressed or overcome. Quite the opposite: the desire for beauty draws me to God, not away from Him.

    But I’ve rambled on far too long already, so I think I’ll give it a rest for now. 🙂

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    • That is beautiful, Blue. Preach on! 🙂 The confusion and disunity you describe is not strictly an Evangelical thing, clearly. We all, as Christians, are beset by horrible disagreements that I think the Devil takes great pride in instigating. Catholics, as you know, are not always that unified, even about whether their churches should be beautiful or plain. It’s a shame.

      I’m in a meeting right now, and can’t say a lot, but I’m intrigued by how your reminiscence here actually helps to explain some of Ann’s motivation for so vigorously defending traditionalists and the Latin Mass. She, too, is drawn to the heavenly beauty, and it’s precious to her. I can see why she would attack those who threaten it. Was that consciously part of what you were saying up above? Or was it all personal? Beautifully expressed, regardless…

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      • I can certainly understand why anyone would feel an attachment to the Latin mass in particular and traditional forms of worship in general. I passed many years of my misspent youth wandering in the wilderness, and one of the darkest years of my life was the year I spent in a do-it-yourself church — the kind that blithely dismisses two millennia of Christian history, and thinks they’re going to be the first ones to finally get it right. Since there were more than a few disaffected former Catholics in the group, they were virulently anti-Catholic and reflexively opposed to anything that (to them) smacked of Catholicism and/or traditionalism. They met in an enclosed porch (no fancy church building for them!), sitting on hard backless benches (and when I say “sitting,” I mean for the whole service — which could be, and often was, very long — with no standing or kneeling or anything to give your poor posterior a break), and sang grammatically atrocious, often illiterate praise songs with out-of-tune guitar accompaniment, and endured endless hectoring sermons from the “brothers” (as the men were called), not one of whom had had any theological education… I could go on for pages about them, but I’ll spare you. One year with that group gave me enough of modern worship to last me for several lifetimes.

        I make no apologies for being an uptight traditionalist myself, and I will always prefer traditional church architecture to the modern variety, as well as traditional music and traditional forms of worship (which is why I ended up an Anglican). But I’m not quite arrogant enough to think that it’s my duty to convert everyone else to my way of thinking. Call me a heretic, but I think it’s okay for different people to worship God in different ways. We are worshipping the same God, even if I do it in a cathedral with stained glass windows and a priest in vestments and an ancient liturgy and hymns played on a pipe organ, while other Christians do it in a gymnasium with guitars and a minister in blue jeans and an “I LOVE JESUS” t-shirt. Why does anyone believe that a God who created such infinite variety would object to variety in the ways that we worship Him?

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    • chrissythehyphenated

      I’ve got goosebumps, Bob. Your story reminds me of a convert I worked with briefly. We had to go on a car ride for our mutual employer and she shared her conversion story with me. Her upbringing and longing for beauty were very much like yours. Her father was so anti-Catholic that she didn’t dare tell him she’d converted. Her mother knew but was keeping her secret.

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      • My dad was the same way — he would have hit the roof if I’d converted to Catholicism. He wasn’t happy when I became an Anglican, of course, but at least I was still nominally a Protestant, so it didn’t actually kill him. Also, I was still a Christian, unlike some of my siblings who not only rejected the church we were raised in, but Christianity as well. So at least I had that small point in my favor.

        Now that my parents are gone to their reward, I could convert to Catholicism without giving anyone a coronary. I’m not saying it couldn’t happen.

        p.s. For anyone who is interested in the notion of beauty leading us to God, here is a wonderful article by Frederica Mathewes-Green that explains it better than anything else I’ve ever read:
        A Golden Bell and a Pomegranate: Beauty and Apologetics

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        • Oh my. I love Frederica’s essay. “No, it is we humans who need such things, and their use in worship empowers mission in ways that, literally, can’t be conveyed in words. Beauty sets the heart aright, and opens it to God.”

          I have been so frustrated trying to argue this with some folks, and I lose every time. Some people are dead set against the concept. To them, any kind of earthly beauty must distract from God at best and, at worst, be evil. I disagree, but I never convert anybody on the idea. I must be terrible at apologetics.

          One case where I’ve had some success, though is with Gruntessa. Being a stubborn Christian woman, her natural tendency is to suppress her own physical beauty. This drives me crazy. I’ve argued for years that she needs to allow her beauty to show, not out of vanity, but out of charity to me and to others, because we NEED it. I actually NEED to see her long hair – not hacked off short. I NEED to see her wearing dresses that look feminine – not Hillary Clinton pantsuits. It’s important to me because all beauty brings us closer to God, and we have so little beauty in this ugly world. For many years, she just figured I was lying to make her feel attractive or something and just ignored me and kept on cutting her hair and looking as frumpy as possible. But at some point, she came around, and it gives me so much pleasure just to be around her.

          Sorry to cheapen your point with this little rant, Bob. I know you were talking about soaring, inspiring beauty, as in music and language and buildings. Just saying I think I get it.

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          • I understand your frustration arguing with Christians who don’t get it. (Your wife, naturally, is much smarter than the average person, so she had to admit the cogency of your argument.) I never get anywhere arguing with other Christians about this stuff. So I collect great articles like this one from Frederica, and then I carpet-bomb people with them. 🙂

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        • chrissythehyphenated

          “Imagine that it’s your anniversary, and your husband has taken you to a nice restaurant. There’s a white cloth on the table, roses and candles, a glass of wine, and violin music is playing in the background. Does that distract you from feeling romantic?”

          I love that line! And I confess … I don’t get Christians who think beauty is not of God. Have they never seen a sunset?!

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          • I don’t get it, either. I regret all the years I wasted feeling guilty over my longing for beauty and order. In retrospect, it’s obvious that I was longing for God, who is the author of beauty and order, but as a child I didn’t know that. I had been conditioned to think that it was just Satan tempting me and trying to lead me astray.

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            • chrissythehyphenated

              I had a spiritual director once who said that God had something like 6 or 7 facets or attributes … I forget how he put it, but he was explaining how each of us is kind of primed to respond powerfully to at least one of them. For me, it was Truth. Another woman I know is just all about Love. Then obviously there’s Beauty. I wish I could remember all of them.

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              • Interesting! I’d like to hear more about that.

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              • I know some people who are all about His Power and Justice. For Gruntessa and I, I think we desired Mercy/Forgiveness/Redemption most.

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              • BoB? Thanks for posting the link to the Bell-Pomegranate article.

                cth > “For me, it was Truth. Another woman I know is just all about Love. Then obviously there’s Beauty. I wish I could remember all of them.”

                My 2¢ minus tax: I’ve seen Truth, Beauty, and Goodness as a triad (trio, whatever you’d call it) of facets. Seems we appreciate the forms of God in Beauty, God’s wisdom as Truth, and personal, spiritual service as Goodness. Facets of one reality, though, because that which is True is also good and beautiful, etc.

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                • chrissythehyphenated

                  Yes, but for me, the initial and most important thing was to know the Truth. The “I can’t believe in a God who …” thing makes no sense to me. He is who He is.

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                • cth: “…for me, the initial and most important thing was to know the Truth.”

                  Me, too, I’d say. But then, I’ve never been very beautiful or good, so I figure, handle what one can. 🙂

                  The Spirit of Truth is to “guide us into all truth,” Hard to discern its leading, insofar as he does not speak of himself. I’m not sure what the relationship is between that Spirit and the “BS meter,” but it seems to me that as a child I developed a good sense of what is right and what is not. (I had good reasons to become aware like that.) A child can have a strong sense of justice and fairness and even logical consistency, before it’s beaten out of them. In my quest for the truth about God, I was fortunate to have people who gave me answers which served me well when I was young, and found satisfaction in more expanded answers when my I was older and my questions grew more complicated. One can’t find Truth in theology, but what little faith I might have needed a solid grounding.

                  I’ve always felt that the Spirit of Truth must have been involved, that day back in my college years when I first read the Gospels through. I’ve never doubted the reality of Jesus since.

                  But, now that I’ve nailed the Truth, I am trying to be a lot more appreciative of every little bit of beauty in the world. 🙄

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