reviews

Review: The Catholics Next Door: Adventures in Imperfect Living

Long-time fans of Greg and Jennifer Willits, familiar with the Willits’ raw honesty on the Rosary Army Podcast, their fun and faithful antics on That Catholic Show, and recently, their misadventures in Mass Confusion, will find The Catholics Next Door: Adventures in Imperfect Living a delightful and entertaining book.

Reading their anecdotes is like showing up at their back door in search of a cup of coffee in the kitchen with Jennifer, or a beer on the porch with Greg. It’s friendly. Engaging. Fun.

Honest.

They don’t claim to be perfect…and if you’ve heard them on their Sirius/XM talk show during the week, you’ll know they are sometimes a mess, but that’s what makes them real…and really lovable.

Greg and Jennifer, or how I like to refer to them, Jennifer and Greg, are just regular folks trying to live their lives faithfully. They truly are the family next door…or in my case, sitting in the pew next to me.

They are the folks you worship with and share a handshake with during the Sign of Peace. They’re the ones who wave you into the exit line in the parking lot, or baby-sit your kids, or make taco dinners to celebrate family and friends.

In short, they’re regular people, just like you and me.

So why should you pick up a copy of their book and read it?

Because they’re regular people like you and me.

Sometimes we just need to hear that whatever is going on in our lives is not weird or out of kilter with the rest of the world. Reading about their adventures in imperfect living makes me feel encouraged in my own faith journey, which is full of my own imperfections.

It’s not a guide or a manual; it’s a visit with the Catholic family next door, and no visit is complete without a little catechesis being lived out in the daily grind, a little self-deprecating humor when things go wrong, and a huge dose of love for Jesus Christ, His Mother,  and the Holy Church…all thrown in together with a lot of love.

Review: A Book of Saints for Catholic Moms

When I received my copy of Lisa Hendey’s new book, A Book of Saints for Catholic Moms, I did a little dance in the driveway. I’m nerdy that way — who doesn’t love to get stuff in the mail? When it’s a book — JOY!

Of course, I immediately sat down to read it, but rather than starting on page one, I flipped around, stopping to read when I recognized a favorite Saint, but also when I ran across a Saint that I didn’t know.

I spent about an hour reading in this manner, and I didn’t realize how much time had passed until my husband asked if I had picked up the mail.

Oh! I was that engrossed!

One of the things that I like about Lisa’s writing is that it comes from a practical place. Her first book, The Handbook for Catholic Moms, is a resource that can be used, re-used, and adapted to mothers’ needs. A Book of Saints takes that to the next spiritual level. As mothers, we are well-aware of our responsibilities to provide sound instruction for our children, but we also need to nourish ourselves spirtually along the way.

In spite of my enthusiastic jump into the book and the sporadic jumping around to get a feel for the contents, I recognized a different gift in the book. Lisa presents us with companions on a faith journey that spans a year.

One part history, one part reflection, and one part mini-retreat, A Book of Saints for Catholic Moms will slow me down. I love that. It meets me where I am (needing some spiritual growth) and asks of me something I can easily work into my busy schedule (52 saints instead of a daunting 365).

Whether I sit down with my new companions for a little while every day, or in a weekly marathon session to get everything read at once, I know I’ll be a better mom and a better Christian for spending time in the company of Saints.

Thanks Lisa!

in which I review The Mighty Macs

If you’ve been doing the rounds on Facebook and Twitter, you’ve probably seen a lot of activity on the new movie, The Mighty Macs, which opens this weekend.

It’s a fun movie if you’re looking for a few laughs and a little inspiration. Happy endings tend to do that for me.

What I didn’t expect was that it would open the flood gates of memories for me. You see, I was a young girl playing basketball in those early 70’s. It was just too much fun reliving those days…I still have a great big ole smile on my face when I think about it.

I saw a preview of The Mighty Macs a couple of weeks ago, and reviewed it over at Patheos! Go check it out…I interviewed the amazing Theresa Grentz and Katie Hayak…see what they have to say about playing on the championship Immaculata team, in real life and reel life…

I love basketball and I love nuns.

It’s a left over from my Catholic youth, playing ball at Christ the King Elementary School and St. Pius X High School in Atlanta, so imagine my joy to attend a special preview for The Mighty Macs, which opens this weekend.

A movie about women’s basketball! With nuns? It got my attention.

And it captured my heart, because it’s wonderful.

Check out the rest of the review here, The Mighty Macs: More than a Game.

What does beige and the Church have in common?


Well, for one, an atrocious trend in bland architecture and design in the latter part of the 20th century. Barring, of course, Gaudi’s gaudy Templo de la Sagrada Familia, which I saw in the mid-80’s and not only left me unmoved, it left me confused. There’s a time for less is more, ya know? Gaudi took it to the extreme. More is more, and then, let’s add some more.

So, I can live with disagreeing with the great architectural and Church minds of today that it is a masterpiece. It’s something. That’s for sure.

But I digress. This little ditty here is to whet your whistle for a little ol’ review of Fr. Robert Barron’s book, Catholicism: A Journey to the Heart of the Faith over at the Catholic Portal atPatheos.com. It’s gorgeous. The book, I mean. The review is pretty OK, too.

I’m a pretty avid reader and zip through books quickly. Not so with Father Robert Barron’s work of art, Catholicism: A Journey to the Heart of the Faith.I lingered over the pictures and reread many passages — not because they were difficult to digest, but because they are beautifully descriptive and rich with detail.

Barron’s style instructs without being pedantic. There is an underlying joy in what he shares, and it is contagious.

Read the whole review here, Catholicism: Out of Beige and into Beauty .

it’s still “A Reel Cool Summer” around here

My stack of summer reading books is about 7 or 8 books deep and it’s stayed that way all summer. Every time I’d get through two or three books, three or four new ones would find their way there. It’s a good thing I like reading.

It’s a good thing I like reading good things.

Cue this adorable children’s book, A Reel Cool Summer, written by Martha Rodriguez and illustrated by her son, Joey Rodriguez.

It captures the wild imaginations of three adorably charming siblings, Joey, Danny, and Jacqui, and their brilliant plan for getting a swimming pool on a hot, boring day.

And it involves pirates, aliens, princesses, and…broccoli. Broccoli?! Well, it turns out Danny isn’t a fan of broccoli, either.

It’s perfect for a hot day, a rainy day, a snowy day, and especially, a boring day.

Kids will not only pass the time with a fun story, they just might get some creative ideas of their own.

love and Harry Potter

The Harry Potter series is a love story, a love story that works on many levels, from the burgeoning romantic love of its main characters to the deeper bonds of true friendship, the love between a mother and child, to the universal love we have each other as brothers and sisters. There are hints that even beyond that, there is a greater love. It is there, perhaps, that the series receives its greatest criticism because J.K.Rowling does not acknowledge God explicitly.

While most people get caught up in the plot which follows a very traditional model of the archetypal fight between good and evil, power and submission, the theme of love outweighs all other motifs.

In the beginning of the story, we are introduced to the orphaned Harry who is being raised by his aunt and uncle. Harry’s parents die fighting against an evil force, Voldemort, who is intent upon conquering death. Voldemort wants to live forever and uses magic and deadly hexes to accomplish this end. He demands allegiance, but his control is based upon fear – Voldemort depends on many people to help him attain this immortality, but it is flawed from the beginning – even those he thinks are loyal to him abandon him in his final battle.

Harry’s father, James, dies while attempting to protect his wife and infant son from Voldemort’s deadly violent spree. When Voldemort gets past James, he faces Lily, Harry’s mother, who places herself in front of Harry to protect him from the deadly curse. Various characters state throughout the series that love saved Harry on that fateful night.

In fact, love saves Harry time and again. His two best friends, Ron and Hermione, form a bond with each other that is both flawed because of petty jealousies, weakness, and selfishness, and beautiful because their love for each other surpasses those failings and embraces forgiveness, reconciliation, and unconditional acceptance of each other. I certainly aspire to that kind of friendship, to be loved for who I am, warts and all – but also to be so giving and forgiving to look beyond the unimportant and value my friends for their dignity and worth.

Mrs. Weasley showers Harry with a maternal love that he lacks. The Weasleys are the closest thing to a family that Harry has. He forges a quick, almost desperate bond with his godfather, Sirius, but in another example of sacrificial love, Sirius dies in a battle protecting Harry. Although there are many people who love Harry, his greatest desire is to know his parents. One of the most meaningful lessons that he learns comes from the inscription on their tombstone:

“And the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.”

(I Corinthians 15:26)

I have to admit that I was surprised to see this quotation and immediately looked it up to see it in context. It speaks to the ultimate battle against sin and death (which Voldemort wished to conquer). In the series, it serves as a foreshadowing of a battle yet to come.

Christ won that battle when he conquered death and rose from the dead. Because He sacrificed Himself for us, He has also equipped us then to triumph in His name – in other words – to fight the battle against sin and death and receive the promise of eternal life.

Harry learns that the way to his own salvation is through this model of sacrificial love (and Voldemort, rejecting love, is destroyed). Voldemort seeks a flesh and blood immortality, when in fact, our salvation comes from the acceptance of death.

Harry’s greatest moment of empowerment comes at the end when he submits to death. In a scene that plays better than the terrible reunion from Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, we see, or rather, feel the presence of everyone who has loved Harry and has died. Harry calls upon this “communion of saints” to buoy him as he faces Voldemort in the last battle.

Another quotation from scripture appears in the series, this one from Matthew. It provides some insight into the greater theme of the stories. Dumbledore, the headmaster and Harry’s mentor, has faced his own shortcomings and failures. His selfish pursuit of power led to the death of his beloved sister. He placed the following inscription on her tomb:

“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

(Matthew 6:19)

Dumbledore learned that lesson in a tragic way since he avidly pursued the deathly hallows that Voldemort covets. It seems that everything that Dumblesore did after his sister’s death was in atonement for the hubris he exhibited in wanting to be the most powerful wizard of all.

Dumbledore’s position as headmaster automatically places him in an instructional role, but it is in the one-to-one occasion of mentoring Harry that we really come to understand his life’s philosophy as evidenced by this scriptural reference. The challenge to know which things are important in life — what has true value — is at the heart of the series.

It is love. Love is the central theme. It is responsible for the salvation of many characters in so many different ways. The sacrificial love of James and Lily saves Harry as an infant. His friends forgive and forge on with their commitment to each other and to Dumbledore’s Army because in spite of their failings they love each other. Sirius distracts Bellatrix from a clear shot at Harry and succumbs to the deadly killing curse in Harry’s place. The Malfoys turn away from Voldemort because of their love for their son Draco. And in my favorite scenes in the movie, we see the most misunderstood character, Snape, struggle with his unrequited love for Lily, and his commitment to help protect her son at the expense of his own life.

In that last battle at Hogwarts we see the death and destruction that Voldemort’s evil has wrought, but conversely see the spirit of love and righteousness that in engenders in the opposition. Harry does not face this alone, but is supported by his classmates, professors, and I imagine, society at-large as represented by other adult wizards that join the fray. Many of those good wizards die in the battle, but they do so willingly in defense of their values — in revulsion for all that Voldemort represents. It is in the scene that we glimpse the stakes of this battle as several beloved characters die in the fight.

Finally, Harry responds to Voldemort’s ultimatum: he will not harm the others if Harry comes forward alone.

Even though Rowling didn’t explicitly use it, I think we are all familiar with the following:

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

(John 15:13)

Not only did a host of characters do this in the battle (and in fact, throughout the series)but Harry makes the decision to meet Voldemort alone, in spite of his friends’ pleas against it, hoping to put an end to it. Harry has something that Voldemort lacks: love. It gives him strength and the resolve to fight on. In a bit of an ironic twist, maternal love saves him again when Draco Malfoy’s mother, a Deatheater herself, saves Harry by “confirming” he is dead when he compassionately tells her that her son is alive.

He faces death unafraid, knowing that what follows is something…more.

And indeed, more follows. In one of the last telling scenes (before the atrocious epilogue — I hate it!) Harry, Hermione, and Ron are walking alone trying to make sense of the aftermath. Harry holds the last of the deathly hallows, the wand that would make him the most powerful wizard of all.

In a nod to Dumbledore’s own error, Harry destroys the wand, confirming that he has learned the lesson well: the things in life that are of true value cannot be measured in earthly things.

the obligatory Harry Potter post

In case you were wondering, yes I went to the midnight showing of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

And yes, I am suffering from a lack of sleep today, but not so much that I don’t want to share my experience with you. I think this is especially relevant because many of my readers come from friendships I’ve made through Catholic media. I often don’t think of myself as a “real” producer of Catholic media although I am both a practicing Catholic and a blogger and podcaster (perhaps more accurately a commentator on a couple of podcasts).

In spite of my discomfort with the label, I cannot deny that I am both Catholic and a producer of new media, so today I find myself capitalizing on both experiences to delve into the world of apologetics. It’s not what you’re accustomed to hearing about when you see the word apologetics, though. You see, I am about to launch into a defense of Harry Potter.

Yes, I am a Harry Potter Apologist. Let’s put that out there right now so you can either call me a heretic or a hero. In either case, pray for me and my on-going conversion. I can’t have enough people praying for me. That’s a good thing.

But back to Harry and his wizarding world. I love the stories. They are well-written and full of all kinds of interesting and wonderful studies of the human condition, mythological constructs, and yes, supernatural events. It’s not unlike many of the other stories that have become a part of our cultural literacy in the last couple of hundred years.

While I am sometimes hesitant to speak directly on Catholic themes because I feel ill-prepared and poorly trained in that area, I can speak from my training as a professor of literature (in fact, you can here me expound on a lot of this stuff in SQPN’s Secrets of Harry Potter, a podcast that explores the literary, mythological, historical, and religious themes of the series) and join a conversation that resurfaces in Catholic blogs and social media every time a book or movie in the series is released.

I do not believe Harry Potter is intrinsically evil, nor do I think it directly, or even indirectly, makes our children into little pagans. I do believe, however, that it is a parental right to determine what one’s children read, so I would no more label the series evil than I would call it essential reading. That is up to the individual to decide.

However, I have increasingly found myself in the position of having to defend my admiration for the series in relation to my obedience to the teachings of the Catholic Church. I’m not talking about the folks who don’t “get” the stories or who don’t like them for the simple reason that these kinds of fantasy stories are not appealing. That’s a matter of taste. I don’t like detective stories. There are enough genres to satisfy everyone’s tastes.

I’m talking about the people who label me a bad Catholic or even a heretic for enjoying the stories. Turnabout is fair play, as they say, so I automatically label them small-minded and a bunch of unoriginal tunnel-visioned lemmings. See? I can be passionate, too. 🙂

The truth is probably somewhere in the middle of those two extremes. Anton Chekov, a 19th century Russian writer, suggests that we should read a variety of literature. In those cases where the stories challenge our value systems we have the unique opportunity to decide for ourselves what to make of it. In a brief letter to critics titled “On Morality in Fiction,” Chekov explains that it is his job as a writer to create stories and it is “entirely upon the reader to add for himself the subjective elements that are lacking in the story.” I am mature enough in my faith to recognize the elements that are compatible and contribute to thoughtful analysis, and those elements which are conflictive.

Thomas Jefferson, the American statesman best known for his part in writing the Declaration of Independence, is often paired with Chekov for holding the opposing view. Jefferson, in “On the Dangers of Reading Fiction,”  believes that reading fiction that challenges our values leads to “a bloated imagination, sickly judgment, and disgust towards all the real businesses of life.” He’s probably right, too. Certainly, reading anything without any critical thinking turns us into unoriginal thinkers, and has the potential to pick away at our sensibilities until we are desensitized, or worse, apathetic to the values we once held strongly.

I see the merits in both arguments, yet I more comfortably fit in with Chekov’s viewpoint. In defense of the series, I’d like to offer a couple of blog posts about two very important themes: love and redemption. I hope you come back tomorrow to read about the saving power of love, and later this week to read about healing and redemption. In the meantime, I’d like to know where you stand — with Chekov? or Jefferson?

John Wayne…meh

Thanks to Dulcinea’s whining about McClintock, I pulled good ole “GW” out of the John Wayne stack of DVDs and watched it. Again. There is a lot to like about the movie although I’ve noticed the trend in his movies is to be rough with his leading ladies. He “takes” his women, and I’m not a fan of that. At. All. I never objected to a spontaneous or “stolen” kiss, but I don’t like the forceful grabs and the spanking. Really? Spanking a grown woman? Pointing out that Maureen O’Hara took a pretty good swing at him doesn’t make it right.

Still, there is much to enjoy about the movie. For starters, I love Maureen O’Hara almost as much as I love Yvonne de Carlo, and both of these great actors are in the movie. But here’s what I really like about McClintock: it defends the sacred bonds of marriage. It really does defend the intimate relationship between a man and a woman in marriage, and I’m not talking about the obvious, you sillies, I’m talking about the intimacy that happens from experiencing life together…what happens when people make a commitment and keep it.

McClintock (Wayne) and his wife Kate (O’Hara) are living apart. When their daughter asks him about their separation, and then makes a disparaging remark about her mother, his wife, he tells his daughter that it is none of her business. He explains to her that she has no idea about the things they experienced in their marriage and how those events, so far in the past, serve not just as a foundation, but the grounding of their relationship through sacrifice and commitment. Whatever has driven them apart, temporarily, cannot surpass the depth of the experiences that bind them together. Then he shares his wish that some day his daughter should need to face the hardships of life, as well as the joys, with a husband by her side so that she may understand.

There is a riotous reconciliation at the end (and another ridiculous spanking) but on the way to the finale we see the steps leading to forgiveness, and the tenderness of an intimacy that comes from years together.

Mother Teresa’s Secret Fire: The Power of Prayer

Most of the time when I get a new book I read it immediately. I sit down and zoom through it with great passion and zeal, and then just as suddenly it’s over, and I’m left yearning for the next literary fix.

That crash and burn technique serves me well; I am in the business of reading and writing. There’s always a deadline, always a new book that I must read. Of course, getting to review books for The Catholic Company is a bonus for me!

Last month when my review copy of Mother Teresa’s Secret Fire: The Encounter that Changed Her Life, and How it Can Transform Your Own  by Joseph Langford arrived, I was going to treat it like any other book — something that was going to give me some fleeting pleasure. Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t have a cavalier attitude about books. I love books. My ravenous consumption of books is probably rooted in my fundamental desire to read everything, or at least, everything that I can get my hands on.

When I sat down to read Mother Teresa’s Secret Fire something unexpectedly different happened to me. I slowed down.I savored the book. I turned to it, not in a frenzy to see what Langford says next, but to absorb and understand the message.

Joseph Langford examines Mother Teresa’s encounter with Christ through prayer, and it vicariously becomes ours. The lessons are profoundly deep and yet so simple that they can be distilled from the advice she so freely gives:

If you want to pray better, you need to pray more.

That simple command to pray more encouraged me to seek a new level of understanding within my own prayer life. The book captivated me with its life-transforming messages thanks largely to Langford’s expert handling of so esoteric a subject as prayer. After all, those of us who see prayer as a mysterious activity for the super holy have failed miserably to understand its nature. I attribute my own past failure to a fundamental inability to lay bare my soul in a vulnerable position.

Can you imagine anyone more vulnerable than Mother Teresa? And yet, she dedicated herself to seeking and helping those who were indeed more vulnerable. Her secret is exposed here for our benefit, so that we, too, can be transformed, and be transformational for others.

Langford deftly breaks down the essential attributes of prayer as expressed by Mother Teresa — to “pray from the heart” and  to hold “inner silence.” That last one, especially, competes with every distraction continuously pulling at us. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

This beautiful labor of love, not just Mother Teresa’s magnificent legacy but also Joseph Langford’s insight into her secret fire, is a must-read for all of us at any stage of our faith journey.

[Her] message is something infinitely rich, yet infinitely simple. She has shown us that, as the burning desert yearns for water, God yearns for us. And the God who thirsts for us is not hard to find, since he dwells in our soul as his temple, and comes in the palpable disguise of our suffering neighbor, making it easy for us to find the unsearchable God, and to come face-to-face with Christ.

Get it. Read it. Embrace the transformational power of her secret fire.

Check out this book review…

So I got involved in a pretty neat little project that Chris Cash at The Catholic Company is doing. He’s gathered a cadre of bloggers interested in doing reviews for various products, including the thing I love best to do: read books. There’s this for a bonus: I get to read stuff before it’s published, and I get to write about it. Nerd nirvana. I know!

So here’s the first review. I posted it as my Monday Musings at rosaryarmy.com because I think it’s something the readers there would appreciate, but I want you guys to fly on over there, too.

One of our challenges as Catholics is to continue to grow in our faith. It is easy to fall into a comfortable rut of attending Mass and receiving the Sacrament of Reconciliation randomly, or just once a year, in short, operating at the minimum level. We don’t just shortshrift ourselves when we do that, we shortshrift God.

And yet, there is so much available to guide our exploration of our faith. Our beloved Pope John Paul II, a prolific writer, has written a body of work that addresses our needs, not just as Christians, but as human beings made in the likeness of God, and provides profound insight into God’s love for us and how we can love God in return.

Although these documents exist for us to study and nurture our faith, many Catholics, including myself, are intimidated by them, fearing that they may be too academic, perhaps too esoteric for the common reader. The Theology of the Body was one of those documents that seemed inaccessible to me.

Enter Christopher West, Catholic author and speaker well-known for his on-going work on John Paul II’s Theology of the Body. West brings his understanding of marriage and sexuality to people thirsty for knowledge and understanding about a topic that is often relegated to whispers if it is spoken about at all.

His newest book, Heaven’s Song, available in September 2008, continues the exploration of John Paul II’s theology of the body with new material never released by the Pope. In these new talks, West reveals the Pope’s study of the Song of Songs and the marriage of Sarah and Tobias.

I have to admit that I was a little intimidated when I received an advance copy of his book for review. The Song of Songs was just not something I was drawn to, and Sarah – didn’t all her husbands die on their wedding night? It seemed so obscure.     [read the rest of it here]