Why I Remain Catholic

Today, On Good Friday, Here’s Why I Remain Catholic

Though the ill aspects of the Catholic Church have recently been highlighted in the news, commentator Elizabeth Scalia says the good aspects have never gotten enough attention.

Published: April 02, 2010
by Elizabeth Scalia

Elizabeth Scalia is a contributing writer to First Things Magazine as the blogger known as The Anchoress.

The question has come my way several times in the past week: “How do you maintain your faith in light of news stories that bring light to the dark places that exist within your church?”

When have darkness and light been anything but co-existent? How do we recognize either without the other?

I remain within, and love, the Catholic Church because it is a church that has lived and wrestled within the mystery of the shadow lands ever since an innocent man was arrested, sentenced and crucified, while the keeper of “the keys” denied him, and his first priests ran away. Through 2,000 imperfect — sometimes glorious, sometimes heinous — years, the church has contemplated and manifested the truth that dark and light, innocence and guilt, justice and injustice all share a kinship, one that waves back and forth like wind-stirred wheat in a field, churning toward something — as yet — unknowable.

The darkness within my church is real, and it has too often gone unaddressed. The light within my church is also real, and has too often gone unappreciated. A small minority has sinned, gravely, against too many. Another minority has assisted or saved the lives of millions.

But then, my country is the most generous and compassionate nation on Earth; it is also the only country that has ever deployed nuclear weapons of mass destruction.

My government is founded upon a singular appreciation of personal liberty; some of those founders owned slaves.

My family was known for its neighborliness and its work ethic; its patriarch was a serial child molester.

Read the complete essay here.

Holiness Consists In This

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what Thou dost love,
And do what Thou wouldst do.

(Text: Edwin Hatch, 1835-1889
Music: Robert Jackson, 1842-1914

Act  justly.
Love mercy.
Walk humbly

‘What does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.’ Micah 6:6

Meditation from Br. Lawrence of the Resurrection

Spiritual Maxims, Page 36

The holiest, most ordinary, and most necessary practice of the spiritual life is that of the presence of God. It is to take delight in and become accustomed to His divine company, speaking humbly and conversing lovingly with Him all the time, at every moment, without rule or measure, especially in times of temptation, suffering, aridity, weariness, even infidelity and sin. We must continually apply ourselves, so that all our actions, without exception, become a kind of brief conversation with God, not in a contrived manner, but coming from the purity and simplicity of our hearts.

You May Have Noticed

Although I picture sanctity robed in the gentle manner of St. Therese of the Child Jesus, I think I need to find another saint to show me how I can tame sarcasm, anger and cynicism.  Is there some sort of “Way” for me?  St. Jerome may be my man, since he won a halo despite his reputation for fury.  I haven’t read anything, however of his having tempered his temper or tamed his tantrums.  Perhaps, my best bet is to be myself and allow life to wear my down like a rock in a tumbler chipping away turn after turn.  The prospect hurts!  I know,  the saints  “Count it all joy!”  Turning up the prayer  can’t hurt.  I’m a candidate for your prayer list, wouldn’t you say?  I change very slowly,  so this blog probably won’t witness any miracles.  I’m open to one,  though!