God and Her Existence

Tomorrow’s class is about our search for God. That, of course, presumes the existence of God, which leads to the question: How do you know that God exists? I will be the first to concede that I can’t prove it.

I can’t prove the existence of God in any scientific or mathematical way. A scientist does not seek to prove anything. Rather, the scientist seeks to formulate disprovable hypotheses. It is through experimentation and observation that the hypothesis is discarded or evolves into theory. The existence or non-existence of God is not subject to such inquiry because you can’t establish a control. If God exists, you cannot create a little corner of the universe or a test tube in which God does not exist. If God does exist, you can’t create a setting in which God does not exist.

This is where the great "fail" of the creationists and their thinly veiled colleagues, the Intelligent Design folks, fall short in their discussions. They seem to have no knowledge of what scientists do, or what certain terms mean to a scientist. Evolution is a theory. Creationism has never gotten that far. There's no possibility of comparison. es, evolution is only theory. So is gravity.

How, then, do you come to any conclusion about whether or not there is a God? As Kierkegaard observed, we compile all the evidence we can, pro and con, but the evidence we can compile is not, in the end, conclusive. Thus, the decision of faith is just that – a decision. The term “leap of faith” is a Kierkegaard term. With all available evidence in hand, one takes the leap. One who has decided that there is no God has taken a leap of faith because they also cannot present compelling evidence for their position. One who has decided that there is a God has taken a leap of faith, but we (and I make no secret about which side of this divide I am on) do so without complete, compelling evidence.

If there is, then, a possibility of the existence of God, then it would seem incumbent on us to seek. Seek answers. Seek the right questions. Seek. . .seek. . .Tomorrow’s session is about the journey that never in this life arrives at its end – about the seeking that we are always doing.

And, about the God that we can only seek because She has already found us.

Trafficking, for 10/12/14

Trafficking. Trafficking.

The time of year has come, in our Christian Education year, that the presentation to our class will be focused on safety. I have two safety topics that I use. One is addiction/alcoholism, and that will be next year. Being a gratefully recovering alcoholic, I do have a perspective on this. The other is trafficking. Both are topics about which I have become greatly - enlightened? - over the years. Neither is a topic I wanted to know about when I was a younger adult.

Trafficking is slavery. Strong word, that, and I was introduced to it by our granddaughter, Meri. A few years ago she asked, "Papa, did you know that there's still slavery in the United States?" My response, since I am Grandpa and my B.A. is in history and I took a lot of science and some grad work in theology so I know all there is to know: "No - there's no slavery in the U.S. We had this Civil War thingy, and all those Amendments - no, no, slavery is illegal here."

My, oh my, did I need enlightenment! And it came from friends, Nora Dvorak of my Diocese and Brian McVey, an Episcopal priest in Davenport. I've done some reading about the subject. The Slave Next Door is an excellent book.

I am teaching this to a class of (mostly) middle schoolers, and there's a balance to be struck. On the one hand, I don't want the next day's headlines to read, "Half of the St. Mary's Church first year confirmation students fainted during class. The others' eyes were frozen wide open, and are still that way this morning." But I also want these kids to get three things: 1) This is as real as your shoes. 2) It happens right here (for some time a major center was an establishment in Walcott, of all places. I won't say the name, but it's a truckstop on I-80. You know - an I-80 truckstop. But I didn't say the name, now, did I? And I don't know if it's still such a major center; last I knew, the truckstop was taking steps to clean up.) And 3) The average age of those sold into sex slavery is 12.8 years. You, middle schoolers, are right in somebody's crosshairs. So, we'll touch on what happens, and we'll emphasize how to improve your chances of staying safe. (Hint: Two things traffickers hate and fear: numbers and witnesses.)

Allow me to suggest a definition of slavery: If you are forced to do what you do not want to do, if you are not paid for what you do, and you cannot stop doing it for fear of physical harm to yourself and/or your family, is that not slavery? If there's no turning back, no going home, are you not a slave?

What's the hold that the traffickers have on the trafficked? The two-bit pimp on 2nd and Scott may use the threat of physical harm; he may point out that he knows where the slave's family lives. He may have gotten the person dependent on a drug of which he is the source.

The folks that had the operation at the truck stops present issues besides these. There has been a connection with "Eastern European organizations" (why say "Russian Mob" when you can say "Eastern European organizations"?) They "recruit" a number of youngsters, then ship them out to other locations. These locations are changed frequently. So, if you leave, you are going - well, you have no clue where. If you are trafficked in from overseas, you don't speak the language. Your ID was taken from you (standard operating procedure.) It's sad to me that a Spanish-speaking person in the Quad Cities who is a stranger to the area and needs help wouldn't know how easy it would be to find a Spanish speaker. Heck, if they stumbled into my class a lot of help would be right there. But, they don't know this.

Two organizations that have been instrumental in the fight to eradicate the evil: Polaris Project (www.polarisproject.org.) They have been instrumental in a number of rescues. Also, they keep a valuable set of data on the impacts of this plague, and the status of the states in providing services and legal protections for these survivors (and please - they are NOT victims.) Iowa folks - do you know how many spaces are available in treatment facilities for such survivors? Hint: It's a nice round number.

The other organization I have in mind is Truckers Against Trafficking (www.truckersagainsttrafficking.org.) They spread the word, and they have a leverage in truck stops that the rest of us can only dream of. And, they have used it. Their rescue work is done in collaboration with Polaris Project.

So - off to prep!

To our granddaughter - a young author-to-be

A short time ago some of our grandkids visited after a lengthy absence. I got a bit of a feel for the directions their career ambitions are taking.

Vanessa has been leaning toward the culinary arts. I would love to offer good advice to you, Vanessa, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be of much help. Your mother and aunts and uncle would remember the time I tried to grill some pork chops. Perfectly respectable pork chops became piles of ashes. I didn’t know it made a difference whether the shiny side of the foil was up or down. Vanessa, you are already better at this than I will ever be.

Jasper is either going to be an artist or an engineer – something in that vein. His artistic ability, and his willingness to take on artistic challenges, is astounding. The human hand may be the most difficult thing to draw. He drew several hands, and did very well. For most of their time here Jasper was on the couch with his charcoal and sketch book. I couldn’t be of much help to you, either, Jasper. I can’t draw a stick figure if you give me a pencil and a ruler.

Livvy – Olivia Paige, if you please – wants to be a writer. That, I know a little about. To Livvy, our future author, a little wisdom. Well, maybe it’s wisdom.

If you would write, read. Read read read read read. Read more.

There was a picture in a magazine many years ago of Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway was a Nobel Prize recipient – one of the great authors of the twentieth century. The picture was meant to portray Hemingway as a sportsman, as a “man’s man.” It showed him holding up a huge fish that he’d caught, and a huge bottle of rum.

There’s something else that Hemingway did. There’s no picture of him doing it. Hemingway read. He devoted three hours every day to reading, and he was serious enough about reading that he did it in a soundproofed room. He read everything that came to his attention, anything that was of any importance. Books, magazines, newspapers – anything. And I can’t help but think that a picture of him doing that would have been so much more constructive than that picture with his fish and his rum.

If you would write, start writing now. Write something every day. Write a journal, write stories, write reports for school.

Study another language when you can. The other language will be structured differently from English, and that will help you better understand the structure of your own language and the nature of language itself. You’ll use this toolbox much better if you know the tools in it.

In all this reading, in all this writing, you will develop the skills needed to ask yourself some important questions:

What makes a good book good? What makes a bad book bad?

How do you build a good sentence? How do you structure a strong paragraph? The best books are no more than the sentences and paragraphs that are in them. (I think you would be surprised and a bit disappointed at the number of students at the college level who cannot put together decent sentences, let alone paragraphs. A decent essay? Forget it. Don’t you be that person!)

A significant number of famous authors early in their careers taught college English. A sizeable group also wrote for newspapers and magazines. There is more than one route into this profession. Just an aside.

When you can, use a variety of words for the same concept. (Today’s practice: rewrite that last sentence several times, never using the same set of words twice.) Don’t let yourself get monotonous – boring.

Later, when you do more extensive writing, form or join a group of others who also enjoy writing. Compare notes. You’ll learn much from one another. In fact, if you’re writing now and you know others who love to write, who share your passion for language, join them now. It will be good practice for later. Nobody ever wrote well all by themselves.

 

Listen closely to what is being said around you. Watch closely what is happening. What does a flower really look like? What does a loud thunderclap do to a group of people? Why? Question, question, always question. (I think you've got that part down!)

I really hope this is a helpful start. The final thing I’d say: If this is what you want to do, if you believe that your voice should be heard, don’t ever give up. Don't make my mistake. The temptation to surrender will confront you. Don’t you surrender!

Driving Miss Livvy With Requested Additions Deletions Revisions and Corrections

The road to Perdition – aka yesterday’s trip to Chicago.

It all started with a change in plan. Granddaughter Livvy, 12, stayed with us for a little extra time while her parents and brother and sisters went to Kentucky to set up housekeeping. She was supposed to stay for a few more days than she did, but she missed her family terribly. She told this to another relative, who said something like, “Honey, we’ll get you a train ticket to go and join your family.”

Knowing what we know about human trafficking and sexual slavery, you can guess what the chances are that this was going to happen. The average age (at least, the best educated guess) of girls taken into slavery: 12.8 years. Livvy’s age: 12.3 years. No way were we going to send her unaccompanied on a train ride that lasted – how long? With how many connections? With how many layovers, for how long?

Ain’t happ’nin’, Cap’n. Not to our Livvy.

So, we called her parents at Fort Knox. They went to work on reserving a seat on a flight. They made the reservation, but when they called back, they asked if we could get Livvy to O’Hare Airport the following day. The flight would be non-stop, Chicago to Louisville, departing at 1:25 PM.

Sure, we said. It’ll be fun, we said.

So, Monday morning we left Davenport at about 7:45 AM – our merry band including Livvy’s Aunt Cheryl, Livvy’s cousin Logan, and me. And merrily we traversed Illinois on I-88, the Illinois Tollway. Well, we were merry until about 10:00.

We stopped for a break at the DeKalb Oasis. I got the kids some refreshment of their choice, then Cheryl and I had the kids sit in a seating area that was within our view while we got something at Starbuck’s. I mean, how busy could a Starbuck’s at an interstate oasis be at 10:00 on a Monday morning in DeKalb when Northern Illinois University is not in session? As it turns out, plenty busy. The Starbucks was training two new employees, and the two experienced employees that were doing the training took their breaks at the same time as each other while we were waiting. The customers in front of us looked very preppy, a bit self-important, and they had a list of things to order that was only slightly shorter than a weekly supply requisition for Fort Knox. And, they made some changes on the fly. Cheryl and I looked at Logan and Livvy, and they looked at us. They got bored, and neither kid handles boredom well. We looked again and they were moving around their table. By the time we got our order it was 10:30, and when we left the kids found a trash receptacle for their long-finished refreshment containers.

It’s 10:40 by the time we pull out of the oasis. If we want to get to O’Hare two hours before departure, we have to be there at 11:25. We have to drive fast. Really fast. Fortunately, from DeKalb all the way to the Tri-State, then all the way to O’Hare, everybody drives fast. Really fast. Speed limits signs exist only as evidence of someone’s sense of humor.

O’Hare is a big place. It seems that every time it has gotten bigger, they accommodate the extra space by adding another circle to the road around the terminals. By now, it’s one thing to enter the complex. Then, you drive in a circle – then another circle. The signs keep telling us that we’re on the right way to get to hourly parking, but the circle goes on. I think we spent as much time circling O’Hare as we did getting from DeKalb to O’Hare. But, we did eventually get to a sign telling us that, to park, turn left. We did, and we were on a parking ramp. Glory be! We parked in the first available spot. As we got on the elevator, we noticed that there were six levels. Each was named after a Chicago sports team – Blackhawks level, Bulls level. We were on Level 3 – White Sox level. Of all the damn things. . .

We got to a ticket counter that said “American Airlines,” and some attendants had no customers. Explanation, provided by one of the attendants: It really wasn’t American Airlines, no matter what the sign said. It was a counter for Japan Air Lines. We went to the counters that we were told to go to. “Are you really American Airlines?” “Yes!” “Thank you!” We provided information about Livvy’s reservation, only to find out that, while she had a reservation, she had no paid ticket. Issue with the credit card. Step away, call Mom and Dad. Becky answered. Fortunately, Becky could not see the expression on my face just then. Becky called American, got the issue taken care of. We got Livvy’s boarding pass. Off to the security check.

What you should know about Livvy. She is whip-smart, and looks it. She has decided (for now – that’s always the case for a 12-year-old) that she wants to be an author when she grows up, and she just might have the ability to do it. She has a playful, feisty aspect, and is quite the showperson and comedienne. And she can make friends quickly. With all of that, it’s easy to forget that she is still a 12-year-old girl with a big, soft heart. In big, busy fast-moving O’Hare, she was a frightened and vulnerable 12-year-old girl. When Livvy is upset or frightened, her characteristic gesture is that she wraps her arms tightly around herself like she’s a little ball. Outside the TSA checkpoint, she wrapped. And started to cry.

Back to the American Airlines counter. It turns out that they can, if ID is provided, generate something that looks like a boarding pass, but isn’t, so if there is a minor travelling alone, a family member can accompany her into the concourse. The agent at American Airlines generated three of them, so Aunt Cheryl, Logan, and Papa (me) went into the concourse with Livvy. All is well.

UNTIL – we stopped for lunch before Livvy’s flight boarded. We went to a place called Cubs Bar and Grille. We placed our order about 12:40. The stated boarding time was 12:55, and the departure time was 1:25, so time was tight. We ordered three burgers and an order of wings. By 1:05 I knew we should get Livvy to the plane, and our food wasn’t there yet. Livvy never got her lunch. I gave her $10 and told her that if they sold food on the flight, she should get some. I walked her right up to the boarding ramp. She was OK then. She was boarding the plane; she wasn’t going to be left at O’Hare. Next stop – getting off the plane in Louisville, being greeted by Daddy.

The rest of us got our food at about 1:20 or so. Logan was in heaven. He has always had a fascination with big mechanical things – planes, trains. He has never been in an airport before, and has never even seen a plane on the ground. Now he’s sitting in a restaurant with big windows and a view of the runway at O’Hare Airport. Lots of planes on the ground, and planes taking off at the rate of about one per minute. Logan’s eyes have only now shrunk back to normal size.

When we left O’Hare, the exit to go from I-190 to the Tri-State is Exit 1D. Sorry, Livvy, that you missed it. Sorry that you missed it too, Kaitlin.

The trip home was uneventful. A flight from Chicago to Louisville is only in the air a little more than an hour, so Livvy was in Louisville and with her Daddy about the time we were passing the Sterling-Rock Falls exits. I hope it was a pleasant trip, and I know that Livvy is overjoyed to be home with family. I miss you already, and love you, and hope you always remember: We’re family too.

CORRECTON 1: I guess it was Chris who took care of the issue with the credit card company.

ADDITION 1: When Livvy got on the ground all she could talk about was the missed wings. Can no one in Kentucky do barbecue?

REVISION 1: I don't know yet if Livvy's been made aware that we took Exit 1D on the way out.

FURTHERMORE: We love you folks.

The theists and atheists debate. . .

. . .and I haven't a clue why. They really don't speak the same language.

I am in mind of a discussion between Bill Nye and Ken Ham. Ken Ham is president of Answers In Genesis. He's a Young Earth Creationist. Bill Nye is, of course, the Science Guy. From their discussion it became evident that they were not speaking the same language. Nye, and science folks in general, ask the question, "What do the physical phenomena tell us? What is the best explanation for what we find?" The reply from the creationists: "We have evidence! We have Genesis!!" They sail on with this, either unaware of, or ignoring, two separate and, at some points, conflicting creation accounts in Genesis. Just to make it more interesting, there's a third creation account in the Bible, in the first chapter of the Gospel According to John.

One would think that, if the Bible were meant to present a unified idea of creation, the writers would have settled on just one. The writers of the biblical accounts were, of course, not equipped to do this. They weren't aware, as we are, of the fossil record. They did not have carbon dating available to them. So there are questions that science can examine. How to explain dinosaur fossils? How to explain that, in the fossil record, simplest organisms are the oldest, and the farthest down?

How do you have a discussion when the people discussing aren't speaking the same language? Ken Ham says his evidence is Genesis. That, however, is not evidence. It was a result of a tradition that did not have the scientific tools to explain creation.

Where a I in all this?

I believe in one God, the Father Almighty,

Maker of heaven and earth,

Of all things visible and invisible.

I do believe. Since the God in whom I believe is eternal, it matters not at all to me if God chose to use a Big Bang to start it all, if God chose to use geological processes that required billions of years, if life as we know it involved evolutionary processes. I'm not bothered at all by that. And this would imply the existence of an intelligent Designer. But I am fully aware that one cannot teach creationism, or its disguised cousin, intelligent design, as science. There's no science in them.

I believe in the existence of God. But neither I nor anyone else can prove such existence. On this topic I've said that I am far more Kierkegaard than I am Thomist. (Gee, I must be a terrible Catholic.)

Centuries ago St. Thomas Aquinas proposed five proofs for the existence of God. The best known is probably the Prime Mover argument. It sees creation as a chain of causes and effects, of movements thus created. Because this chain cannot be infinite, it has to have a beginning, an uncaused cause, an unmoved mover. That is God. The fallacy: what if the unmoved mover was a tiny particle of infinite heat and pressure that exploded? Is that particle God?

The evidence I see of God's existence are in nature, in the trees and flowers right around the house; in any AA meeting; in Church (when it's at its best. It's at its best often enough to keep my attention. It's not there all the time, though.) When I walk into any AA or NA meeting, I can point to a dozen walking, talking miracles, people who no longer had a life to speak of, and who have been given their lives back. I can't attribute that to a particle.

Be still, and know that I am God.

I pray daily. Sometimes, in the early morning silence of my front porch, I can almost hear, I can feel the interior movement.

Still, I can't prove in any scientific way the existence of God. The issue for those who would argue against the existence of God is, you can't prove your position, either.

For me, this is where Kierkegaard enters. He maintained that one can't prove the existence or non-existence of God. No matter how much evidence you compile for either position, it does not constitute proof.

Yes, there was a Mother Theresa, a Thomas Merton, a Daniel Berrigan, a Dorothy Day. Does this prove the existence of a God that intervenes for good in human life? No.

Yes, there was a Spanish Inquisition, and the Papacy was so degraded in the 9th century that it was referred to as a pornocracy, and the sexual abuse of children by priests was real. Yes, believers have insulted and dehumanized and demonized all who are not exactly the same way they are. Does this prove the non-existence of God? No.

There is a term, "Leap of faith." It's a Kierkegaard term. At some point one runs into the limits of what reason and evidence can provide. Eventually, one must make a decision - the decision is inescapable - and everyone faces that decision based on incomplete information. You decide t believe, and it's a decision of faith, and you know that. Or, you decide there is no God. That decision is also based on incomplete evidence, and it's also a decision of faith, although the atheists seem less aware that they have made such a decision.

I've made my decision:

I believe in one God, the Father Almighty,

Maker of heaven and earth,

Of all things visible and invisible.

 

Thanks for hanging out.

 

 

 

Addiction - Alcoholism II

In a previous post I wrote about the starting points of addiction. One who has a genetic predisposition, combined with some form of mental or emotional issue, is a prime candidate. There are those in the field who have gone so far as to say, "No genetics - no addiction."

With all of this, a working definition of addiction may be something like, "Use of a substance or behavior in the face of negative consequences." If there are no negative consequences, then there is no addiction. But, be careful here. Denial is a big part of addictive behavior, so the addict is not usually aware of the negative consequences, even as said consequences are destroying their lives.

It should be noted that the addiction process plays out in different ways in individuals. Those who work in the field view addictions through a number of prisms.

SUBSTANCE ADDICTION v. PROCESS ADDICTION

The nature of substance addiction would seem to be obvious: it's an addiction to some chemical. Alcohol and tobacco are probably the most common, and for adults they are legal and easy to obtain. Meth is not legal, but it is fairly easy to obtain. Heroin - cocaine - chocolate. Chocolate, y'say? If one has a compulsion to use it, and that one is diabetic, and that one can't stop it even in the face of escalating negative health consequences, then there is an addiction.

Ecstasy is one of the "club drugs", and the question about whether it is addictive is still out. Marijuana seems to have no inherent addictive qualities, but now we move to the second of these categories, "process addiction."

Process addiction is habitual repetition of some action. The action ay involve a substance, or it may not, but the substance is not the point of the addiction. While marijuana has no inherently narcotic chemical, if one is in the habit of firing up some herb at, say, two in the afternoon, and starts blowing off appointments and putting relationships at risk to light up at two every afternoon, then, although there is no chemical addiction, there is, most certainly, an addiction.

Running? Jogging? It is, to be sure, a process. Can it be addictive? If so, could we argue that there is such a thing as a good addiction? My answer would be yes, and no.

Running, or other types of exercise, is not inherently addictive. It would be difficult to think of a negative health consequence that comes from running. But, there is a type of runner, and I'm guessing you've seen them. They're everywhere. If it's a nice, 55 degree day, they're out in their Spandex and running shoes on their route. If it's 35 degrees and there is a wind-driven rain, they're still out on the same route, same Spandex. . .if it's 95 degrees, same route, same Spandex. No trainer in the world, no doctor around would recommend running is such adverse conditions. Maybe Stephen Covey would, but he wrote a lot of stuff on subjects about which he knew nothing. There are indoor tracks around, there are indoor malls to walk, but not for these people. They must do the same route same time every day, or they think their day is a failure, despite the obvious health risk to which they subject themselves. That's addiction.

Eating disorders present special issues. Those addicted to alcohol or meth can quit, and if they would control their addiction, they must quit. But no one can just stop eating. Rethinking one's relationship with food is critical.

And, no, there is no good addiction. The reason is that addicts cross the line into addiction at the point where they have surrendered their freedom to do something or to  not do it.

More on the subject later. A second prism is attraction v. aversion addictions. Thanks for hanging out!

There are rules written, and rules uwritten. . .

Continuing the theme from yesterday, from John Lennon's Imagine:

. . .and no religion, too.

Lennon's position on the existence of God would have been either agnostic or atheist, depending on which day he was asked. (I think his view would be "agnostic, leaning toward atheist," but any summary of an individual as complex as Lennon risks oversimplification.) In this passage, I think he was presenting a view of a world in which religion is not used as an excuse or a tool for one person or group killing another person or group. In Lennon's time, that would have included Protestants vs. Catholics in Northern Ireland, Muslims vs. Jews in the Middle East, among others. In almost every instance, religion has been used as an excuse - a chosen mask for the real reason for the killing, which is more material - a fight for land, or for oil, or money. Consider the persecutions of the Latter-day Saints in Missouri and Illinois - was it because of the religious differences, or because, in each instance, the Mormons had become large landholders and vulnerable targets? The Jewish view of Christians is varied. Some Jews are rather proud that Jesus was one of them. Others hold to the view that Jesus' followers have spilled more innocent Jewish blood than any other group or individual.


Are they wrong in saying that? Sadly. . .


There's another interpretation of this. The word "religion" means rules. Imagine there are no religious rules.


That's a bit hard to deal with. I had a friend who made a statement: "Love Jesus. Hate religion" - i.e., hate rules. I think this person was referring to all the nonsense rules that some folks would impose. I'm not fond of those, either. But you can't separate Jesus from rules. Jesus was a Jew, and from a family that was quite observant. And Judaism, in the Torah, has rules. Lots of rules. Jesus reinterpreted many, butt he ditched none. There are rules about what you may and may not eat. There are rules about how priests are to dress when presiding over ceremonies. There are rules about sex and divorce. There are rules about how to handle it when you have to urinate or defecate in the middle of the night.


You shall have a  designated area outside the camp to which you shall go. With your utensils you shall have a trowel; when you relieve yourself outside, you shall dig a hole with it and then cover up your excrement. (Dt. 23:12-13)


Because the Lord your God travels with you, and you wouldn't want him stepping in it. Funny - I've never heard a sermon preached on that passage. If someone mentions that we are to observe every word of the Hebrew Scriptures as written, you may want to mention this. "Hey, man, you have a trowel, and when you have to go in the middle of the night you drive out of town, dig a hole. . .?"


And why the observance of the rules? It wasn't for health reasons. They knew nothing of the dangers of undercooked pork. If they did, they wouldn't have been big on beef or chicken, either. No - the reasons that the rules are observed is because that's what God said. That's it, and that's all. God said, and that's what you need to know.


In the Catholic church we have our rules and regs too. And sometimes, rules and regs lead us into legalisms. Example: When we attend Mass and take the Body and Blood of Christ (and if you don't think that the  wafer of unleavened bread and that cup of wine are the actual Body and Blood of Christ, why would you be Catholic?), it should be the first thing in your stomach that day. If you attend a Sunday morning Mass, no problem. In fact, society largely owes the delight of the Sunday brunch to our observing this. But, at some point we started having a vigil Mass on Saturday afternoon, late in the afternoon. Would this mean that you couldn't eat anything all day Saturday until the Mass at 5:00? The rule was adapted to the circumstance. Now, it's "Don't eat within an hour of the Mass." But there are legalisms with that, too. If Mass is at 5:00, the Eucharist isn't usually distributed right at 5:00; it would be about 5:35 or 5:40 before you receive the Host. So, can you eat right up until the time you leave home? This is the sort of thing that happens when you take a good rule and get legalistic in a detailed way. Most of us just don't eat within an hour of the scheduled Mass start time, but that's not written anywhere.


Many of our Protestant friends adhere to a saying Sola Scriptura: Scripture is the only normative source of truth. The problems with this position: 1) It discounts the role of the Holy Spirit and turns Scripture into a "paper Pope"; 2) the Scriptures themselves never say Sola Scriptura; this expression imposes an extra-Scriptural standard on the Scriptures.


I wear, usually, a polo shirt to church, with either jeans or a pair of semi-dressy slacks. The kids in my classes have noted that I'm kind of casual about this. I wore a suit and tie to their Confirmation Mass last spring, but they know that that's not me. One of them asked, "So next week you'll be back in jeans and Converse?" Yep. But there are churches I could go to that have no written dress code, but if I showed up there in my jeans and Converse and polo shirt, soon enough someone would feel obligated to advise me that the normal attire is shirt and tie, in honor to the Lord.


Many churches and denominations forbid the use of alcohol. When asked about Jesus' use of wine, their reply is, "It was grape juice." Grape juice? Where do you get that?


Rabbi Hillel, who lived during a time of conflict between Hellenistic Jews and Hebraic Jews, had a conversation with one of the Hellenists. The student posed what he thought was an insurmountable challenge to the Rabbi: "If you can recite the entire Torah while standing on one foot, I will study Torah." I can only imagine the student's shock when Rabbi Hillel stood on one foot. Hillel said, "What is hateful to you, do not do to others. That is the whole Torah. The rest is commentary.


"Now go study."


There's the rule and reg.