What’s up? (Part 1)

Something’s up, they say. It's difficult to pinpoint: a current, a wave, an atmosphere. It's not business as usual anymore says one. No program is going to fix it, says another. There's an air of urgency and concern.

Concerns spring from deep within. They grasp for words to say what they mean, to describe their discomfiture. Perhaps Yeats’ words fit the times: "The best lack all conviction, and the worst are full of passionate intensity."

The story gets told in these terms:

Catholics are confused and torn - the ones hanging on. Half have quit. The faithful don't know who or what to believe anymore. They hear a prominent archbishop say the Holy Father is out of touch. They hear mixed messages about sin and morality, if they hear about sin at all. Respected theologians speak about moral conduct in situational and relativistic terms. Catholics have bought into worldly standards for marriage, sexuality, lifestyle. Never mind that rock music holds traditional values up to ridicule. the kids need “their" music. Love has become puppy love, more concerned with selfish pleasure than with sacrifice, patience and dying to self.

Homes for runaway young people are finding a new caliber of clientele. Sacred absolutes are falling on rebellious, indifferent ears, despite the utter hopelessness of circumstances. Failures to reach some of these young people are increasing. Some are going back to the streets from probably their last-chance safe havens. People in places of help use words like “diabolical" to describe what they see happening.

Even priests are sniping at priests. A holy brotherhood is becoming infiltrated with an undercurrent of defensiveness or suspicion or polarity. Condescension replaces dialogue. Smugness replaces tolerance. Hauteur replaces humility.

Everybody agrees that values have lapsed or gone dormant, but nobody thinks it's anybody's fault. It's not the teachers’ fault; it's not the young people's fault; it's not the parents’ fault; it‘s not the priests’ fault; it's not the bishops’ fault.

So the story gets told…

A priest has a faraway look of reflection. His tone is quiet. People don’t come to the sacraments, he said. They don’t come to Mass. They're bitter, angry. They don’t want to hear anything I have in say. They could care less about God or religion or the Catholic Church. They’ve turned it off any they’re not about to turn it back on. Many are full of hate. Many more are simply indifferent toward the Church

Catholics are having abortions, living together before marriage and they are very vocal about their rights in this regard. Their rights… they’re not interested in what the Church has to say about women in priesthood. They don’t care. They want what they want, so that’s their value. They say the Church is repugnant, but they want to be a priest in it.

Something is terribly wrong and putting a Band-Aid on it won’t fix it. One more program putting people on one more spiritual high, feeling good about themselves one more time – it's all useless. Do it. I don’t care. It won't matter, he said. What matters is what's underneath all this: the malaise, the emptiness. Only one thing is going to work and that's for people to change their lives and get right with God. The communion lines are long, but the confessionals are vacant.

Another priest shook his head. It's not business as usual anymore, he said. We‘ve been asleep too long. Satan is in the world and in the Church, too. You can laugh if you want to, he said, shrug, it off if you want to. The intellectually arrogant will go on with their mush, but the word of God still stands, yesterday, today, tomorrow – if there is a tomorrow. God’s not going to stand for 20 million abortions, rampant idolatry, moral decadence so depraved it’s unspeakable. God’s not going to stand for teaching elementary school children that choosing to act out homosexually is like choosing a new hat, and then teaching them so-called safe ways to indulge in repulsive practices.

The solution is simple really. We have to repent. We have to get on our knees. – T.R.

written by Thomas A. Russell
first published in the Lafayette Sunday Visitor on January 31st, 1988

Modesty: a virtue for all seasons

Sacraments are outward signs of inward realities.

The signs, in and of themselves, are just pieces of business: A bishop’s touch on a young person’s cheek, a bit of oil applied, a quantity of water poured. In the context of sacrament, though, these acts take on great meaning for us. The meaning has such depth, however, that no one comprehends it fully.

In the context of sacrament, Jesus asks for faith, not mere understanding; trust, not half-heartedness.

This writing is about modesty, high on the list of misunderstood virtues these days. In our society, modesty is scoffed at. It is the subject of chuckles.

Have I been immodest? Yes. I say so plainly. Let there be no intimation that I come speaking from some sacrosanct perspective. Neither let there be any thought that I sit in the judgment seat. I sit beside you in the pew.

So straight to the heart of the matter: Modesty is not a sacrament; but it is an outward sign of an inward grace: the grace God gives us to love our neighbor.

Modesty occurs in thought, word and deed. But mostly we think of it in terms of the way we dress. No matter how much we are led to believe otherwise on TV, in magazines, newspapers, and elsewhere prevalent in our environments, dressing publicly to enhance, rather than to subdue, our sexuality is immodest.

The rationales for immodesty are legion, hammered at, reinforced, repeated constantly from all sides. Some common ones: “I’m not trying to turn anybody on, I’m just trying to keep cool.” “People distracted by scant clothing simply have dirty minds.” “Everyone knows how we’re built. It’s no secret anyway.” “Why should I dress like a nun?” “The prudes like to force their values on everyone else.” You know the litany.

I’m convinced that immodesty in dress has gotten to the point where people just don’t think about in anymore. People don’t realize they’re being immodest. More seriously, it has become deeply ingrained in some people that modesty is actually something ridiculous, a throwback, just dumb.

However, the truth is, that modesty, like a sacrament, says on the outside who we are on the inside. That doesn’t mean an immodest exterior bespeaks an evil interior. It does mean though, in the very least, that right-thinking is not happening within.

As with a sacrament, we cannot fully comprehend all that it means, we cannot fully appreciate all the effects of our modesty. Indeed, I suspect that most of our immodesty affects people we don’t know, people we don’t see who see us.

It’s also not their fault that they are affected. If I shoot you with a gun, is it your fault that you wretch in pain? If I call you a blockhead, is it your fault that you are offended? Yet by not shooting others, not insulting others, have I affected people I don’t know, people I haven’t seen? Of course. My restraint, my obedience to God’s law written in my heart, allows my neighbors to move about in peace.

In the same way, I am not free to assault the sensibilities of my neighbors, to attract them sexually, publicly.

In the last analysis, I may not understand all the ramifications of this virtue the Master asks me to practice. But in faith and in love for Him and my neighbor, His still, small voice is very clear about modesty. He has not modified His expectations to beat the heat.

written by Thomas A. Russell
first published in the Lafayette Sunday Visitor in July of 1986