Chastity or Abstinence?

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Photo by Rainstorm Photo

This is surely a simple question for most Catholics in the world. When fully engrossed in the faith, the contrast between chastity and abstinence is obvious and in light of that knowledge there is but one correct choice whether someone be called to marriage or religious life. However, before coming to the Church I saw little difference and even thought the two to be synonymous. In all honesty, chastity wasn’t a term in my vocabulary. I’d certainly heard the word, mostly in reference to the cumbersome accessory maid Marian wore in the comedy, Robinhood: Men in Tights, and I had a general, albeit incomplete, understanding of what it meant. 

Far more often in real life applications I had heard reference to abstinence. This was the term used in school health class and by medical professionals, always championed as the single totally foolproof method for avoiding a surprise, unwanted pregnancy. There lies the difference. Abstinence is birth control. Engaging in this practice is to abstain from sexual activity, not for any moral or spiritual reason, but rather for the sole purpose of avoiding the conception of new life which might result from that activity. Though they are often lumped together, this is actually in total opposition to the virtue of chastity. 

It wasn’t until a Catholic friend once politely corrected my terminology on the subject that I considered the possibility that there was any meaningful difference. All Catholics, regardless of their vocation, are called to remain chaste. We reserve the sexual embrace only for sacramental, holy marriage for the purposes of renewing marriage vows and conceiving children. Of course, this means that those in religious life are indeed called to abstain from sexual activity  as they serve God directly through work in the Church rather than through service to a spouse. This is also where natural family planning (NFP) comes into play for married couples in order to make informed decisions about starting families. 

However, at the core of this Catholic teaching, we are always open to the possibility of life, no matter what kind of service God has called us to. We do not put barriers between ourselves and God’s will whether that be through hormonal birth control or total abstinence for the sake of avoiding pregnancy. We must always be open and willing to receive God’s gifts and blessings. 

From the Mountain Top

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I’ve previously mentioned on this blog, my desire to celebrate mass in the mountains with my parents and our family priest friend. God hears and answers all prayers in His own way and His own time. During a Colorado trip this summer we were finally able to go hiking with the Father. For many reasons, this experience was a beautiful and singular gift from God. Many of our mountain adventures take us to remote lakes in the clouds with stunning views along the way but on this occasion we chose a special destination. Mount Sopris proudly stands at the head of our little valley, a picturesque set of twin peaks which is in view from almost anywhere in my hometown. While this isn’t the tallest mountain in the area it is certainly among the more formidable hikes around. It is a 14 mile trek round trip over a variety of rugged terrain. 

Growing up and before any of my family were even entertaining ideas of coming to the faith, Mount Sopris stood as a perpetual reminder of the beauty of creation whenever we happened to glance up the valley. As my sister and I grew older it also became a testament to our determination, our own personal Everest, as we both reached the summit for the first time when I was just 10 years old. At the time, it was possibly the hardest thing I’d ever done and my skinny legs were shaking when we arrived back at the truck that day. However, I never regretted having done it. On the contrary, after wiping away a few tears as well as plenty of dirt and sweat, I felt like I was still standing on top of the world, realizing for the first time that I can do hard things. 

Since that initial trip up Sopris as kids, my family has completed this hike several times, though the last instance was when I was in high school. As such, we thought it a fitting experience to share with my husband and our priest friend, both relatively new to Glenwood Springs and never having done this hike before. Our first small blessing came with the priest’s ability to clear his schedule for the occasion. This is hardly a short afternoon jaunt into the wilderness. Thankfully, the day was wide open for our adventure. We began our journey in relative darkness, setting out from the trailhead at 2am to avoid the long upward slog in the midday sun and to reach the top by sunrise. While the rest of the world slept soundly in the valley below, we hiked to the light of a super blue moon on a cloudless summer night. This was the second blessing. The small pools of light from our headlamps were almost unnecessary at times and paled in comparison to the shining silver orb floating in the sky above us. 

My husband and the priest both reached the summit just as the Sun sliced through the dregs of evening while my parents and I arrived a short ten minutes later. There is no comparable feeling to standing on top of the world when the Sun comes up, watching it bathe everything in honey light. Its warmth was slow to reach us as we stood on the summit but we’d packed for the occasion and quickly donned thick fleece jackets and pulled knit hats over our ears. Once everyone had caught their breath, the men set to work preparing a makeshift altar and the Father pulled a chasuble from his pack. 

Before my conversion to the faith I often wondered why anyone would need church when we have nature. What better way could there be to worship than to simply witness the wonders of God’s creation. I’ve since come to realize the errors in my thinking, now with a much more complete understanding of the happenings in a Catholic mass and Catholic sacraments. To participate in the sacrifice of the mass is always a miraculous blessing but this reverent ceremony on the peak of Mount Sopris, a beloved monument of my childhood, in which the priest consecrated the entire valley below us was a gift I will never forget. The first time I ever stood on this mountain I’d been a child. Now, I returned as a baby Catholic, a child in God’s eyes.

Camouflage

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As I was scrolling through photos today I stumbled across this little guy a bit like when we stumbled across him while hiking near Colorado National Monument. Although he politely posed for photos we almost missed this master of disguise due to his natural camouflage. God in His infinite creativity even thought to bless the world with pleasant little froggy friends like this.

All Saints’ Day

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Nearly everyone knows about All Hallows’ Eve. Every child in America looks forward to Halloween, the last day in October when they get to bundle up under costumes of their favorite characters and flit all over town in search of tasty treats to eat. However, far fewer people are familiar with the Catholic feast which always comes the day after Halloween. All Saints’ Day is a Catholic holy day of obligation meaning that attendance at church is required. 

Catholics flock to church on this particular solemnity to celebrate all the saints, both known and unknown. Even non-believers are familiar with some of the greats; Saint Peter, Saint Paul, Saint Joseph to name a few. These are big ‘S’ Saints. Their sainthood has been formally declared by the Holy Father, the Pope, after careful examination of a series of miracles attributed to each of these people. However, one hardly has to be famous in order to become a saint in the eyes of God. There are hundreds of Saints officially acknowledged and celebrated by the Catholic Church and there are countless more that remain unknown but by those who knew them in life. All those who reside with God in heaven have achieved sainthood through virtuous lives or purification of purgatory, regardless of their renown here on earth. 

We tend to confuse our terminology by saying we pray to Saint Anthony for our lost keys or to Saint Mary Magdalene for continued conversion. In truth, we Catholics only ever pray to God as we worship the one true God, fully present in the holy trinity. No saint, famous or otherwise, can answer our prayers. We believe that all of these holy people are now in heaven and therefore closest to God. By this proximity, they have God’s ear in a sense and are capable of interceding for us. When we invoke specific saints in our lives we ask for their intercessions only, that they might implore God to help us in our need. Today, we honor all of them for this assistance.

Catholic Roots

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Photo by Monstera Production

I readily admit that Halloween is far from my favorite holiday. This is a distaste which I believe I inherited from my mom. Of course when my sister and I were little we went trick-or-treating through the neighborhood as a family, a ritual which any child eagerly looks forward to every year. Upon arriving home my parents always had my sister and I choose our favorite 10 pieces of candy. The rest they told us was for the candy fairy. In the morning our extra candy would be gone, replaced by a small gift much like something Santa might leave under the Christmas tree. It was family traditions like these which fueled the magic of our childhood and I’m so grateful to our parents for them. 

However, as we outgrew trick-or-treating Halloween became more of a shared family annoyance than a beloved holiday. We always enjoyed passing out candy to the costumed kiddos but as the evening progressed our house would inevitably be visited by lazy or scantily clad teenagers expecting the same treatment, many of whom hadn’t bothered to don a costume at all. Later, Halloween as an adult with work friends was treated by my peers as little more than an excuse for drunkenness during which otherwise respectable young women would squeeze themselves into too tight, too short “costumes” lauding immodesty as the goal the entire time. This has also become a time when quaint family neighborhoods are regularly assaulted by demonic and excessively gory scenes sprawled across various front lawns.

For all of these reasons I’m not a fan of Halloween and wasn’t intending to honor the occasion with a full Monday post. However, I recently came across this post, Halloween and Hallowtide, from a fellow blogger which caused me to reconsider. She very eloquently reminds readers that, all demonic and scandalous behavior aside, Halloween was originally rooted in Catholic traditions. All Hallows Eve is part of a holy triduum in the Church. This is the vigil to All Saints’ Day which occurs on November 1st and is immediately followed by All Souls’ Day on November 2nd. During these three days we are to pray and feast in honor of our beloved dead. After reading this article, I can only echo her call to “sprinkle some Catholicism in your Halloween.” As Catholics we must always be careful to avoid participating in any activities which might lead ourselves and others deeper into sin but we also should attempt to live liturgically where possible by celebrating Catholic feasts like these.

A Mother’s Love

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Sometimes we have to grow up to truly grasp all the little ways our parents love us even without our knowledge. For the first 21 years of my life there was always family close by, sometimes a short 20 minutes down the road but most often just in the next room. I grew up accustomed to the familial sounds of chatter in the hall and feet on the stairs. Even now, my house doesn’t quite feel like home when my husband has to spend a weekend away for work and everything falls silent. Home has always been where my people are.

When I moved to Indiana for a job in the steel industry I also embarked on the two loneliest years of my life. Of course, I invested all of my free time and energy in keeping busy and making friends. I took up new hobbies and filled my days with every social engagement I could find, despite being incredibly shy. However, in the evening I would always return to a dark, empty apartment which was an especially sobering situation amid COVID lockdowns. During this season of loneliness I called my mom nearly every day, sometimes three times in one day. She was a constant lifeline and content to receive a running play-by-play of my new life in the Midwest. My mom wore many hats during that time; life coach, public relations advisor, romance councilor, medical consultant and chief BFF to name a few. 

Now, having found my husband and both of us with slightly busier church schedules, we talk a bit less. Our catch up phone calls now come a few times a week and I’m ashamed to say I’ve caught myself a bit peeved on occasion when she wasn’t able to come to the phone. In addition to becoming a hugely active and influential member of her parish community, my mom is also the current help hotline for my sister who is in the throes of medical school while navigating the joys and trials of motherhood for the very first time. 

It occurred to me recently that in my own time of need my mom was just as available and ready to listen. She hardly ever missed a call during those two years when I was entirely on my own in an unfamiliar landscape. At the time, I was simply grateful for the comfort our daily check-ins afforded us both. I was blessed with a familiar voice to vent any and all frustrations to and my mom received regular reassurance that her youngest daughter was still safe and well. Now, years later, I consider the sacrifice these chats required on her part, to always be ready and willing to listen. I pray someday that my own kids can know they are loved that much. Thanks mom.

Garden Fresh

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My husband and I tried our hand at growing a few vegetables this summer and, though our cucumbers never fully matured (likely due to poor fertilization), we were blessed with an abundant and juicy harvest of cherry tomatoes. There’s nothing quite like homegrown vegetables and we’ve struggled to return to store bought produce as the season turns colder. We can’t wait until next year when we plan to go all in for a full veggie garden.

Celebrity Status

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Photo by cottonbro studio

On our way back from a short Colorado trip this year my husband and I were making our way through the Denver airport. I believe this was also the day after a Taylor Swift concert and DIA was utterly overrun with swifties, some of whom still sported their concert costumes. Blessedly, we arrived at the airport with hours to spare and the security line moved quickly. Once through we prepared to board a train to carry us to our gate and caught sight of the black clericals and white collar of a priest in the crowd. Given that we were on our way back from baptizing our niece in an incredibly reverent mass, I felt this was the perfect ending to such a holy weekend and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. 

He was dressed much the same as all the other priests I’ve met but for two details. Around his neck hung a large beautiful golden crucifix and on his finger sat a gold ring which looked to be a seal. My husband and I were sure that this was no ordinary priest. We boarded the train and ended up standing directly in front of this holy man and I wracked my brain for some small comment of appreciation to say to him. I came up blank as I couldn’t decide how to address him without being sure of his name or position in the Church. 

As we sped toward our gate, the train rounded a bend and jostled as trains do. We’d shuffled to the middle of the car to allow others to board and now, being somewhat unanchored, I literally bumped into the man. Of course I wasted no time in making a brief but sincere apology which he graciously accepted. Again, I was left searching for more words to express my joy at having found the Church and my gratitude toward all the holy men who have chosen the priesthood. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance as he deboarded at the next gate and we continued on. 

We later found him through a quick google search and excitedly texted my parents to tell them that I had bumped into Archbishop Aquila, the Archbishop of Denver. This experience called to mind a story my sister told me about one of our priest friends visiting her and her husband in Little Italy while on a trip to Cleveland once. They’d all gone out for lunch and he’d even concelebrated mass at Holy Rosary Church there. Throughout his visit, random strangers would wave and say hello, obviously noting the priestly clericals. My sister said it was almost like being out to lunch with a celebrity. The people in Little Italy were hardly shy about showing their appreciation for the priesthood.

This is how we should treat our priests! I am by no means advocating the kind of idolatry which has become commonplace to reserve for the pop stars of society. We are not to worship false gods and it’s true that some individuals mistakenly make their way into the priesthood, but even these men have been put there for a reason, though we on earth may never know what it is. However, there is no denying that, on the whole, these are holy men, ordained by God and solely capable of acting in the person of Christ while conferring the sacraments. We ought to afford special respect to the white collar and certainly those who wear it.