Re-read: Curves of Pursuit

This post links to RAnn's Sunday Snippets   

I first read this novel in 1984. My father had picked it from the new fiction shelf at the library, said I might like it too. Told in the first person, it's nominally about two brothers, and whom they've loved, and try to love; and how they want to be loved back. It's gently written, with no gratuitous sex, or violence, or vulgarity; and not even a plot in any conventional sense. Regardless, as an unmarried 27-year-old, I was struck by the brothers' sense of masculine helplessness in the face of their disintegrating marriages. Both wives have moved out after, oh, 5 years or so, and neither brother has a clue as to any ameliorative action they might take. They're intelligent, reflective (you know, for guys), and they want to stay married to their wives. But life is a mystery, often frustrating and sad; and not every problem is fixable.

The main lesson I drew in 1984 was: marry the right woman. Four years later, I did just that.

I have regularly remembered bits of the book over the last 30-odd years, and recently bought an intact library copy online. Finished it today, liked it even better this time.

But now I'm married 25 years with 5 kids and 2 grandkids. Now what Curves of Pursuit shows me are two marriages at loose ends partly (mostly?) because nobody wants any children. The book isn't explicit about it, I just gather that intentionally 'child-free' marriage (and all that entails) is the model for both the characters and the author. Two troubled marriages, 4 smart people, 186 pages, not a peep about kids, pregnancy, the future, nothing.

Now I'd never say that having babies is a panacea for marital problems; but in my marriage, having kids certainly made the marriage more of what it was already: more love, more life, more God, more married. So: would my marriage have failed without kids? I doubt it. But I know that what we had before kids was less than what we had after- and I found that out only by having them.

Greenville-Ephrathah 14: Mass Appeal

 

l'il 'phrathah needs to stay little

Easter Sunday Greenville SC newspaper lede: "Catholic Church growing fast in Upstate: Upstate Catholic population grew by 41% in past decade while largest Protestant denominations fell in members." 

Our parish brought in 28 at the Vigil: half converts, half unbaptized. That's good. Yet:

Be sober, be vigilant: because your adversary the devil, as a roaring Lion walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

Smart Kids

this post links to RAnn's Sunday Snippets and Convert Journal

 as a bride adorned for her husband

1. In the March 20 class we covered this bit of Acts:

"And God wrought special miracles by the hands of Paul:
So that from his body were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs or aprons, and the diseases departed from them, and the evil spirits went out of them."

Every year I run a skit with a Saint Paul, a mother, a father, a deathly ill daughter, and a dishrag to show how this sort of miracle prefigures the physical aspects of sacraments. The kids have to get into the roles on the fly; and they do a good job, especially considering I don't read the verses until the skit is done. But this year Paul and the mother went beyond the usual performances. First, when the father brought the dishrag to preaching Paul, Paul just stood there with it. Sometimes Paul will vigorously handle it, or breathe on it before giving it back, which already shows what the kids have learned. But this year: nothing. I prompted, "So Paul, you gonna do anything, or just stand there while his daughter dies?" Paul says, "Uhh...should I bless it?" Well I dunno, you're God's man, not me. And he launches into a beautiful ad-libbed blessing of the rag: "Dear God, please put your healing power into this rag so the little girl can get better," and serenely hands it back to Dad. Normally during these skits the peanut gallery is yelling advice to the players, but they all shut slap up at this. Dad is absolutely sober as he carefully accepts the rag and takes it home to his wife. The mother focuses on the sick child, played by a rubber fetus on her desk. She takes the rag, and using all her 12-year-old nascent maternal instincts, softly strokes her sick daughter. After a few seconds she stops, and tucks the rag as a blanket around the baby. "So how is she?" She's all better now. The class is totally silent, plugged in, and ready to burst with thoughtful answers to a series of pointed questions that lead to conclusions about how sacraments work.

2. On March 27 we finished our Grand Catholic Tour of the Bible with the Book of Revelations; which is no surprise considering it's the last book. The whole sweep from Eden to the Fall to Jesus to the Second Coming to the New Jerusalem is recapped. The kids hear: "I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the New Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband; and I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling of God is with men. He will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself will be with them." We compare the New Jerusalem with Eden in their sinlessness and happiness.

After class a couple of kids come up. "Hey Stratopops, we have a question: why is it called the New Jerusalem and not the New Eden?" Ehh...great question! Nobody's asked that before! I never thought about it before! Huh...well...OK: in Eden did God have a body? No, God doesn't have a body. Right, except for...? Jesus. Yes, Jesus has a body; was he in Eden? No. Right. And in the New Jerusalem will we live with the Lamb? Yes. Who is...Jesus. Yes. Were there cities in Eden? No it was just a garden. Yes, but a big garden wasn't the sort of world Jesus lived in. So maybe it's important that after the Second Coming we live in a place that's a sinless version of the world Jesus lived in the first time, so it'll be a city, not a garden. And tell me where God dwelled with the Israelites. In the Meeting Tent. Oops, I mean after the Tent. In the temple? Yes, in...Jerusalem! Yes, so maybe God doesn't want to go back to living in the Garden of Eden. Maybe he wants to live in a perfect version of Jerusalem. Is that enough of an answer? Yes, that's fine. OK, you kind of caught me by surprise. If I learn anything else about this great question I'll let y'all know."

Smart, smart kids. They are a wonder.

Like, who cares, right?

 in its unwashed splendor

My 2002 Z28 5.7 Hurst 6sp turned 11 years old on March 27.

Total repairs:

1. Replaced passenger side power window motor in 2007.

I Never Noticed

This post links to RAnn's Sunday Snippets

I just noticed in Palm Sunday's Gospel reading from Luke, that at the Last Supper Jesus didn't eat or drink after the words of Consecration:

"And when the hour came, he sat at table, and the apostles with him. 15* And he said to them, "I have earnestly desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer; 16* for I tell you I shall not eat it * until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God." 17* And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, "Take this, and divide it among yourselves; 18* for I tell you that from now on I shall not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes." 19* And he took bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." 20 And likewise the cup after supper, saying, "This cup which is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."

Nor in Matthew: 

  "When it was evening, he sat at table with the twelve disciples... Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to the disciples and said, "Take, eat; this is my body." 27 And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, "Drink of it, all of you; 28* for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. 29 I tell you I shall not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom."

Nor in Mark:

"And as they were eating, he took bread, and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to them, and said, "Take; this is my body." 23* And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, and they all drank of it. 24* And he said to them, "This is my blood of the covenant, * which is poured out for many. 25 Truly, I say to you, I shall not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God."  

Having thought about this for several minutes (!), I believe this points to Transubstantiation. If Jesus were speaking symbolically when he said "This is my body...this is my blood," then why not share in the eating and drinking along with the Apostles? If nothing else, it would clarify that this bread and wine were no different from any they had consumed earlier in the evening; lest anyone erroneously suppose Jesus was speaking literally on this night, and also the day after the Loaves and Fishes miracle (John 6). 

On the other hand, if Jesus had indeed transformed the elements into his own flesh and blood, then it would be appropriate that he not partake in consuming himself.

Tempus Fugit 7: Don't Dare to Blink

This post links to RAnn's Sunday Snippets

The little girl on the chin-up bar got married in November. 

 
I'm reminded of this from my own childhood.

Teachers' Conference

Last Friday at the S.C. Catholic Teachers' Conference, I gave two presentations (same content both times) on Bible-sourced catechesis and 4 teaching methods I use in my 6th-grade class. The blurb from the program:

"This session recreates a typical classroom experience, based on the content of my book, The Bible Tells Me So. The audience will play the part of students, and will learn through participation how guided discussion, drawing, props, impromptu skits, fine art, and the Bible can be used to effectively teach middle-schoolers their Catholic faith."

A couple of weeks earlier, my DRE hosted a 2-hour light dinner and workshop with a couple of local parishes' catechists so I could get a feel for dealing with adults instead of kids, and also find out how much I could cover in a given amount of time. Based on that experience, each 60-minute session went like so:

A short prayer ("Holy Spirit, don't let me waste anybody's time. Amen."), and a few lines of Psalm 78 were followed by a brisk presentation of 4 teaching methods:

1. Teach by drawing, using the story of the Loaves and Fishes as the example.

2. Teach with impromptu skits, by having volunteers play the various characters in the Healing of the Paralytic.

3. Teach from Bible languages, in this case some useful Greek from Acts of the Apostles.

4. Teach from fine art, using a Christmas card and an Annunciation.

So how fabulous was it? Well...it was terrific! The teachers plugged in right away, participated fully, and more than half of them left with copies of the book. And on my side, I could've done four 1-hour sessions with no trouble, covering different topics each time.

I'll be doing another diocesan workshop this fall, and am interested in taking the show on the road. If anyone you know may be interested, please send them this brief description.