Modernist Fluff on Dating

I came across some modernist fluff advice on CatholicMatch (of all places) on the question of whether a woman should offer to pay on a first date. Since this has always been one of my pet peeves, I couldn't resist spending some time on a Sunday afternoon replying to it. And maybe it's a little vain, but I'm proud of what I wrote, so here's a link to it :)

The Date Debate: Should The Man Pay For Dinner

How does this relate to St. Francis? For one, St. Clare would never offer to split the check :) While I doubt Francis and Clare ever courted (even though the book I'm about to read will make the case something existed between them; see my previous post), I don't think one can find a better gentleman that one who literally dreams of chivalry. And chivalry expects certain things: little things like paying for dates and holding doors expresses a quiet confidence in a man that -- assuming it is virtuous -- is rooted in friendship with Christ.

Mary is described by Tradition as our Castle and Tower, signifying her role as the sanctuary to be protected at all costs and humanity's desire to reach upward to God. These apply to her specific vocation as the Mother of God, but the metaphors apply to all women generally as humanity's natural connection to God. Ironically, modern society's femininity causes us to neglect true feminism, so it's no wonder we've lost touch with the divine. Consider most Hollywood portrayals of marriage. If one of the two spouses is devoutly religious, it's usually the wife (as was the case in a poorly-written yet interesting movie I saw yesterday, The Caller, which I might write more about soon). Women tend to have an instinct for spirituality. I feel like diving deeper into that mystery leads to some reasons for male priesthood, as it is more challenging for men to believe in the first place. Maybe it's true: we really aren't as "qualified."

So where does that leave this thought (as I sense this is the point to bring it together or wander into rambling... not that there's anything wrong with a good ramble once in a while)? I think it comes around to how the two primary vocations in Catholicism -- celibacy and marriage -- form a marriage in Catholic society that challenges and strengthens the other. The world and most other Christian sects are missing this beautiful experience. St. Francis and St. Clare are a unique pair of saints who together have much wisdom for both men and women in relationships to learn from celibates how to live chastely with an eye toward marriage.

A Mended and Broken Heart

Biographies have always been a favorite genre of mine. Learning about a person's childhood, their joys and sorrows, what motivated them and the crosses they bore through life always interested me. Buffett: The Making of an American Capitalist, Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr., and Iacocca are some of my favorites. I have G.K. Chesterton's St. Francis of Assisi and Saint Thomas Aquinas: The Dumb Ox along with Thomas Merton's Seven Storey Mountain on my reading list -- they've been there a while :) I will say, Chesteron being one of my favorite writers, I'm looking forward to reading both of those since Sts. Francis and Dominic demonstrate contrasting paths to holiness.

Of course, the challenge to a biographer writing on someone like St. Francis is bringing something new to the table. That's why I almost didn't bother buying this book, A Mended and Broken Heart: The Life and Love of Francis of Assisi by Wendy Morgan, especially since the inside-cover description makes the book sound slanted against orthodoxy. For instance, there's reference to St. Francis' "complex theology," the repression of certain details of his life by the Church, and his rushed canonization two years after his death (calling to mind the relatively quick canonizations of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta and Blessed John Paull II). Yet it also offered a quote I'd never heard before: "Don't be too quick to canonize me. I am perfectly capable of fathering a child." And from there, proceeds to mention the "crucial but completely neglected role that Clare of Assisi played in Francis' life and theology, both before and after his conversion." Maybe Francis had a little thing for Clare, eh?

I could see that.

At any rate, I firmly believe we must die to become saints. Francis-the-sinner glorifies God all the more in becoming Francis-the-saint, and since I have a certain penchant for film noir and the dark side of humanity, I look forward to learning about Francis from a perspective that intentionally sheds more light on his weaknesses. Our sins show the way to holiness in that they reveal (in a disordered way) truth about ourselves that we can easily miss simply because we only see the sin and never look deeper into what it is we are fundamentally attracted to and how the seed of goodness within can be nurtured from depravity and death into goodness and life.

I won't be able to start this one right away. I'm finishing The Princess and the Goblin and just started Brew Like a Monk while in the middle of Screwtape Letters, The Call of the Wild and White Fang, and In Business As in Life, You Don't Get What You Deserve, You Get What You Negotiate. Needless to say, my interests are varied... and I should get some Amazon credit for all these links!

Pax et bonum,
Jason