Personal: April 2005 Archives

With all the papal news, we have not recently said much on a subject near and dear to my heart: Marines administering earthly justice so murderous thugs can face the divine version.

To summarize: several dozen thugs commandeered three large suicide vehicles and tried to detonate them inside a base. The attacks were deflected by the quick thinking of three 21-year-old Marines, who repelled the vehicles with machine guns and grenades. The thugs tried to attack on foot, but again they failed. In the end, the Marines killed 21 of the thugs and wounded another 15. No Marines were killed, or even seriously hurt.

The herd of independent minds in the media are parroting the same line, about how the thugs' attacks are "becoming more sophisticated" lately. While it's true the attacks have more people involved, all of them have ended badly for the attackers. Seems to me that "sophisticated" ought to mean something more than using three car bombs instead of one, and 30 guys on foot instead of 8 or 10. Real sophistication would mean better effectiveness on the battlefield, not getting more thugs to show up to the party.

I regret that the thugs aligned themselves with thieves and oppressors, then threw their lives away by attacking a Marine post. I hope they somehow repented before their death. But how can I muster any sympathy for people whose operating principle is to maim and murder as many people as it takes, military or civilian, so they can overthrow the Iraqi government and take charge themselves?

I was in tears as I watched Cardinal Ratzinger emerge from the Conclave as Pope Benedict XVI. First, Cardinal Ratzinger's theology was a major help and inspiration to reconciling with the Church. Secondly, it was an answer to a prayer. As many of you know, Cardinal Ratzinger bounced back after failing his doctorate the first time around.

I am in danger of doing the same. In the last month it has become more and more evident that I cannot maintain my status as a full-time writer and canonist, and also pursue a doctorate. My doctorate is suffering big-time as I struggle to keep our family financially afloat. We've been hit with a couple other financial setbacks as well as the university shuts down family housing (thus increasing our monthly rent in what is already Canada's most expensive city) and some emergency medical expenses -- (you would be surprised what socialized health-care doesn't cover.)

Up until Pope Benedict XVI was elected, I was giving serious consideration to dropping out the doctorate at the end of this semester. Since I already have a licentiate, it is pretty easy to find full-time work. Nevertheless, I prayed for a sign from God. This is it. Both my wife and my spiritual director agree, and after speaking my parents I will be biting the bullet and undertaking large student loans (which I have avoided doing up until now). In practical terms, this means I've seriously got to curtail my outside writing, activities, private correspondence....and blogging over the next year.

Thanks for understanding. I may not be in as regular contact with all of you (I get around 400-600 emails a day), but I will keep all of you in prayer. Please pray for our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI.

I'm going to Orlando in two weeks (against my will) and need to find a place to hear Mass. Since the school group I'm chaperoning will be staying in (in, I say) the HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH I thought there might be a weekly Mass on the property, but the Diocese no longer has a Mass for tourists.

I'm considering Mary, Queen of the Universe Shrine, which developed as a church for tourists, as well as St. Nicholas Byzantine because I wouldn't anticipate liturgical shenanigans there.

Can anyone recommend a church close to the Black Hole o' Disney?

The first time I saw the Pope, it was completely by accident. I was traveling in Europe with four friends after graduating from high school, and we happened to be in Rome on a Sunday. I had little use for Catholicism, but as all four of my friends were Catholic, and I wanted to see the art and architecture of the Vatican, there was no doubt that we would end up at St. Peter's for a while.

The Pope appeared at his apartment window, for a customary blessing of the thousands of people who assembled there that hot July day. I wish I could report that I fell prostrate on the ground and embraced the fullness of truth right then and there, but I didn't. (I would have been trampled by the sweaty pilgrims, for one thing.) But I could say I saw the Pope, though he was but a small white figure waving to us in the distance.

Four years later, my future wife and I were received into the Catholic Church, and four years after that, we were married and took our honeymoon in Rome. One of our parish priests had studied in Rome, and put us in touch with a member of his seminary's faculty, who gave us passes to the Wednesday papal audience along with "a special treat." Having no idea what that might be, we showed up at St. Peter's on Wednesday morning. The Swiss Guards kept waving us past the throngs of people lined up to get into the auditorium; we ended up sitting to the Pope's left with about a dozen other newlyweds.

After the address, the couples were ushered up to the Holy Father, two-by-two, Noah-style. I kissed his ring, and thanked him for all his work on behalf of families. If I close my eyes, I can still feel his firm thumb tracing the sign of the cross on my forehead. He blessed my wife, and held her hand tenderly, putting his hand on her cheek and smiling. A cardinal stepped in to whisk us away so the next couple could receive their blessing.

Many things affect a marriage, but I am convinced that the Pope's prayer for us has enhanced our married life, and continues to do so. He asked God to give us good things, both spiritual and material, and we have indeed been blessed, above all with our several children.

I know the Pope belongs to everyone and no one, but I feel like he was my pope, in a way. I saw him before I was Catholic, and I was impressed by his rock-like refusal to give in to the world, even as he sought those who worship the world's false promises. Someday, I hope to see him again in the New Jerusalem, though I'm sure he will again be off in the distance, near the throne of the Most High, and I will be in the outer suburbs. Perhaps he will wave to me again.

Goodbye, my Holy Father.