One of my favorite authors, Peter Kreeft, has taken a very different but very good turn in writing a recent essay. I recommend this essay to anyone who is interested in pro-life issues,and, basically, I'd recommend this to anyone looking to better understand the intersection of faith and the pro-life movement (and what that means to the individual).
Kreeft, who has a talent for making complex moral debates comprehensible (often through the use of a dialectic method, sometimes in the form of a play), has written an essay entitled, "Pro-life or Pro-happytalk?" Stylistically, this essay is nothing like his previous work, a point he remarks on. But, in this essay, I felt like I got a better understanding of Kreeft's own struggles to "do the right thing" in response to his deeply-held beliefs in the sanctity of life and his feelings of conviction as a committed Christian who took a look at what he had sacrificed for his beliefs and found his sacrifices paltry in comparison to what he could do.
It's a position that most everyone has been in, regardless of belief structure or religious creed. We look at what we believe and what we do to further those beliefs, and (when we're really honest with ourselves) we're embarrassed by the dearth of action we've displayed in response to our convictions.
Kreeft encourages us to look at how bold we've been and how bold we can be, how we can use our God-given talents in support of the cause of life. It's an amazingly revealing and compelling essay. So, go read it!
Just in case you're not convinced, I'll give you a little bit of Kreeft's essay. This is the part that was my moment of "a sword will pierce through your own soul also." Or, in plainer language, this part really got me:
"But we do know what will happen in the next world if we do respond, because God has clearly told us that. He has told us that when we die and meet Him, the Judge that no one can ever escape, we will hear these words: 'I was hungry and you did not feed Me, I was thirsty and you did not give Me to drink, I was naked and you did not clothe Me, I was sick and in prison and you did not visit Me.' That is not my opinion, that is His clear, literal, word for word divine revelation and warning. Do you honestly think He will not add: 'I was slaughtered in abortion clinics and you did nothing to rescue Me'?"
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Sunday, February 12, 2012
I Still Wanna Dance With Somebody
It was a day toward the end of the 1980's, and I was a young girl, standing in a Kmart, trying to fend off boredom as my mom and I waited for a prescription to be filled. Over the store's loudspeakers played "I Wanna Dance with Somebody." I barely knew what this music was because we only really listened to oldies and Christian music. Whitney Houston wasn't someone I listened to much as a kid.
But, somehow I remember her. I think of that song, and I immediately picture Whitney in that pretty pastel dress (was it lavender, or was it pink?), shaking her blonde curls as she danced. I'm not sure I'd seen anyone light up like she did while singing or have such a brightness and joy--all while maintaining perfect tone and pitch. She was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my life, and she had that voice.
Whitney wasn't just a singer. She was a standard, a benchmark of what a voice should be. The beauty of her voice was in its strength. A classic mezzo soprano, Whitney could belt out the higher notes, but she rarely gave them too much vibrato. She owned those notes, took hold of them and didn't let them go until she was finished.
Sadly, the last few years of her life were mined for tabloid fodder, and unscrupulous paparazzi kept the public supplied with embarrassing pictures, video, and anecdotes of a woman struggling with substance dependence. I, like many others, find it all too easy to click on those little "news" stories while reading up on the day's events, and I, even though I should know better, overlook the fact that I'm engaging in gossip when I do that.
Lately, I've started to feel really conflicted about those habits. It's easy to separate a news story from the actual human being who's written about in that story. Celebrities begin to look less like real people and more like things that can be discussed (dissected, probed, exploited) for our amusement because, well, they knew that's what they were signing up for when they aspired to this fame. It's the sort of excuse for bad behavior that rests on the idea that "they were asking for it."
When I say it like that--the way it actually is--I can't really justify my urge to click on those stories. The first couple of verses from Psalm One come to my mind.
"Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night." And, I don't want to be one of the "scoffers." I don't want to allow the personal troubles of another person to be my entertainment. Mainly, I don't want to think that I spent (or, actually, wasted) my time doing something that didn't honor the dignity of another person's life.
So, this is how I want to remember Whitney. I want to remember that light, that beauty, that voice. I want to think of her with the same grace and love that Christ had for her and has for all of us, even in those times when we feel the least deserving.
But, somehow I remember her. I think of that song, and I immediately picture Whitney in that pretty pastel dress (was it lavender, or was it pink?), shaking her blonde curls as she danced. I'm not sure I'd seen anyone light up like she did while singing or have such a brightness and joy--all while maintaining perfect tone and pitch. She was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my life, and she had that voice.
Whitney wasn't just a singer. She was a standard, a benchmark of what a voice should be. The beauty of her voice was in its strength. A classic mezzo soprano, Whitney could belt out the higher notes, but she rarely gave them too much vibrato. She owned those notes, took hold of them and didn't let them go until she was finished.
Sadly, the last few years of her life were mined for tabloid fodder, and unscrupulous paparazzi kept the public supplied with embarrassing pictures, video, and anecdotes of a woman struggling with substance dependence. I, like many others, find it all too easy to click on those little "news" stories while reading up on the day's events, and I, even though I should know better, overlook the fact that I'm engaging in gossip when I do that.
Lately, I've started to feel really conflicted about those habits. It's easy to separate a news story from the actual human being who's written about in that story. Celebrities begin to look less like real people and more like things that can be discussed (dissected, probed, exploited) for our amusement because, well, they knew that's what they were signing up for when they aspired to this fame. It's the sort of excuse for bad behavior that rests on the idea that "they were asking for it."
When I say it like that--the way it actually is--I can't really justify my urge to click on those stories. The first couple of verses from Psalm One come to my mind.
"Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night." And, I don't want to be one of the "scoffers." I don't want to allow the personal troubles of another person to be my entertainment. Mainly, I don't want to think that I spent (or, actually, wasted) my time doing something that didn't honor the dignity of another person's life.
So, this is how I want to remember Whitney. I want to remember that light, that beauty, that voice. I want to think of her with the same grace and love that Christ had for her and has for all of us, even in those times when we feel the least deserving.
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