Sirach Friends

“Faithful friends are a sturdy shelter; whoever finds one finds a treasure.

Faithful friends are beyond price, no amount can balance their worth.

Faithful friends are life-saving medicine; those who fear God will find them.”

-       Sirach 6:14-16

  

Beautiful women are one of God’s absolutely most amazing gifts to humankind.

If you know one, you know what I mean. If you know one, you understand that I’m not talking about only physical beauty, I’m talking about soul-beauty. Some saints have remarked that we should be like “panes of glass,” windows letting the light of Christ shine into a dark world as clearly as possible.

I actually have been blessed to know several of these women. This particular post is inspired by one of them, a truly lovely woman who “window-panes” really well.

I spent last weekend with her, and as I left I had an unfortunate sinking feeling accompanied by the thought: “Oh, crap, now I have to go back to working hard at being holy.”

She makes it SO easy to focus on God, to live in joy, to rest in trust…I felt like her love was holding me close to Christ every moment I spent with her.

But, as it turned out, her prayers and the gentle words of encouragement she shared with me remained, a warm layer of protection around my lately-fragile heart.

Imagine a rower who gets in the boat, understands what is necessary to move the boat, but refuses to exert the necessary effort to row or even to pick up the oars. Then the rower starts to get frustrated about not moving.

Deep down I knew I’d been clinging to distractions because they were less work than what I was actually supposed to be doing. Deep down I knew, to get anywhere, I had to quit wallowing and start rowing.

But all the pep talks I was trying to give myself weren’t working so well. Several times I explained to myself: “Listen, kid – you’re supposed to be working on T-R-U-S-T.”

The main effect of these little self-lectures was the inclination to throw a fit and scream: “Well, WHY? Didn’t we already work on that? What’s even the point? I realize I’m supposed to wait on God and all, but how long will be long enough? Why should I even bother to budge if I don’t even know where we’re going?”

I’m kind of hoping you can relate to this.

Otherwise that just makes me a spiritual brat, huh?

Anyway.

So, there I was, stuck on the shore, hesitating to answer St. Josemaria’s cry to “throw aside the pessimism that paralyzes you, launch out into the deep!”

Then, God in His goodness shipped me off to a weekend with this beautiful friend, and gave her words which poured themselves like a healing balm into the ache that had frozen me. She reminded me of how God uses His children to reveal Himself to the world. If the world acts in defiance of some particular trait of God, He will raise up saints who particularly model that trait as a witness to the world.

And what is the world more fixated on than the satisfaction of self? And in this fixation, what does our world forget more than the enduring faithfulness of God, His desire to provide all things in His perfect timing for His beloved children?

So, what if God wanted me to fall so deeply into a relationship of trust with Him, that I would start rowing diligently toward the One Whom Chesterton rightly calls “the blazing Sun of our mortal midnight” … without hesitating to ask how long it would take to reach Him?

What if, like Simon Peter, I wanted just to be with Him, and leapt forward without pausing to demand how such a thing might be possible?

What if I chose to focus on the fact that the wait was meant to perfect my desires, not to stifle them?

What if I fell at the feet of the Divine Lover and begged, “I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.”

This is the answer, the truth that needs to sink into our hearts:

“Blessed are those who trust in the LORD;

the LORD will be their trust.

They are like a tree planted beside the waters

that stretches out its roots to the stream:

It does not fear heat when it comes,

its leaves stay green;

In the year of drought it shows no distress,

but still produces fruit.”

- Jeremiah 17:7-8

"We are the sign."

So, most of you know, I'm a Programs Coordinator for the Houston Coalition for Life. Our mission is "Ending Abortion in Houston, Peacefully & Prayerfully." What that means in practice is building a presence of prayer outside Planned Parenthood's mega-abortion-facility, training sidewalk counselors, raising community awareness...and offering free ultrasounds, pregnancy tests, counseling, and referrals inside of a mobile Crisis Pregnancy Center (known formally as "The Mobile CPC" or with more casual affection as "The Big Blue Bus"). Whatever you want to call the thing, we gleefully park it right outside Planned Parenthood.

Every. Single. Working. Day.

So, in addition to plotting all kinds of exciting pro-life events, I sometimes work on that bus.

I guess sometimes when you're around something every day, it can be easy to forget how special it is.

I know occasionally I let that happen about our bus. Since I'm there so often, I forget what an incredible thing it really is.

God has a way of reminding me though...

One day I was counseling on the bus, talking to a young girl who was pregnant. She sat in front of me, her baby inside her and her own mother next to her, and she was scared. Her mom seemed afraid too, but shared with me that they had prayed the night before that God would show them what to do. That if God had a different plan than abortion, He would give them a sign.

"And then," her mom said, "We saw this bus..."

Let me tell you, I got goosebumps. There was a little pause, and then words came out of my mouth and I knew, with all my heart and soul, that God had put those words there:

"You know what? I'm the sign. He wants you to have your baby. He can make good out of all of this, He can give you everything you need. It's only Him that gives life, and He has a plan for you and your baby. So I can promise you, that right now, today, we are the sign. This bus? It's the sign. He wants you to choose Life."

I know in my head what the numbers are: 9 of 10 pregnant women going in to Planned Parenthood are getting abortions.

But out on the street, in our big blue bus, the ability to view free ultrasounds inspires 9 out of 10 pregnant women to choose LIFE. And the real help offered gives them the ability to follow through with it.

I sometimes lose sight of how amazing it is: hundreds of people believing in something so much, they'll give their money, their time, their efforts, and their enthusiasm to keep it going.

That's what the bus is: it's the product of the unflagging commitment of people who KNOW what happens when you offer help to a woman in crisis. It's the outcome of a dedication to the truth being told, freedom being offered, and hearts being open. Even for one baby, every day on the street would be worth it.

But God blesses the efforts of the Houston Coalition for Life and the selflessness of our supporters with this encouragement: not one baby, but 231 abortion-vulnerable moms confirming they have chosen LIFE!

Which actually is 232 kids, because one of our moms is expecting TWINS.

232 kids...

That's about ten kindergarten classes.

Twenty-one soccer teams.

Over a quarter of Clear Creek's graduating class.

Or,

232 new ways of seeing the world.

232 new sets of ideas on how to make it a better place.

232 hearts to love in ways that no-one else would ever be able to duplicate.

232 families...SPARED the horror of abortion, the loss of a child, and the pain of that trauma.

Having the bus on the street is a powerful and concrete way to be present for these women. The bus is truly a tool God uses to change minds, touch hearts, and save lives. And all those good things for only $250 a day.

On the other hand: $250 a day, six days a week - you can see why we need help, why fundraisers are necessary, why generosity is crucial.

We always have a chance to "be a sign" to let people know that the desire of God's heart for them is LIFE.

And sometimes, we even get a chance to SAY it. Helping keep the bus on the road is a real way for you to "be a sign," and your gift truly will save lives.

If you're interested, we have a Walk for Life going on right now, and you can either become a Walker or help sponsor me.

Please pray...money keeps us on the street, but prayers keep us going.

"Prisoner of Love"

My dad has this quote he heard from a priest once which he absolutely loves. He brings it up regularly, and says it's the simplest explanation of the difference between Catholics and Protestants he's ever heard. It's actually one of my favorite quotes, too (my dad liking it just makes it that much better), and I've been thinking of it a lot lately:

"The difference between Catholics and Protestants is that in Protestantism you're told to ask Jesus into your heart, and in Catholicism, you're told that Jesus is asking you into His Heart."

Don't read on just yet, go read that again and let it sink in for a while.

In fact, that's kind of what the blog today is about. I have so many quotes from saints that I love, and sometimes I like to go back and just mull them over a little. There were some I wanted to share today, and hopefully you have some time to savor them. Words like these can be for our souls like a good, steady soaking rain can be for a Texas summer. Take your time, come back if you need to.

.....

St. Catherine of Siena, a woman whose life bespoke a soul consumed in a lavish love affair with her God, would describe this love as a limitless ocean or fire: 

"O unfathomable depth! O Deity eternal! O deep ocean! 

What more could You give me than to give me Yourself? 

You are an ever-burning Fire; 

You consume and are not consumed. 

By Your fire, You consume every trace of self-love in the soul. 

You are a Fire which drives away all coldness 

and illumines minds with its light, 

and with this light You have made known Your truth. 

Truly this light is a sea which feeds the soul 

until it is all immersed in You, 

O peaceful Sea, eternal Trinity! 

The water of this sea is never turbid; 

it never causes fear, but gives knowledge of the truth. 

This water is transparent and discloses hidden things; 

and a living faith gives such abundance of light that 

the soul almost attains to certitude in what it believes."

I think the priest's explanation is so good because it gives us Catholics a chance to consider the Eucharist a little. There's one song I heard at Mass that describes the moment we receive the Eucharist as the moment when the One "Whom all the world cannot contain comes in our hearts to dwell." 

He lives there in you, and since He holds all created things in existence, you are living in Him. It's an intimacy that goes beyond human comprehension. A thought beyond understanding, but we are meant to dwell in the reality of it. The Catechism tells us that even though we can "never fully express the infinite mystery of God," we must always strive to "purify our language" in order to speak about Him with others. To speak of God is to speak of the love which enfolds us at every moment, so it seems we should strive to purify the understanding we CAN have of His love. Our understanding will always be limited, but He invites us to dwell in the knowledge of it, to live from the reality of it, to act in freedom of it. How do we purify that understanding?

Have you ever read St. Thomas Aquinas' Sequence for Corpus Christi? I had a hard time finding a good translation, but I like this one fairly well. Here's a little of it. If you take your time reading it you'll have a chance to realize how good the words taste in your soul:

Here in outward signs are hidden
Priceless things, to sense forbidden;
Signs, not things, are all we see:
Flesh from bread, and Blood from wine;
Yet is Christ, in either sign,
All entire confessed to be.

They too who of Him partake
Sever not, nor rend, nor break,
But entire their Lord receive.
Whether one or thousands eat,
All receive the selfsame meat,
Nor the less for others leave. 

St. Josemaria Escriva moves from the reality described by St. Thomas to answer the question about how to purify our understanding. By noting the devotion expressed in some human loves, he explains simply: we learn of Christ by spending time with Him.

"Jesus has remained in the Eucharist for love...for you.

He has remained, knowing how men would treat Him...and how you would treat Him. 

He has remained so that you could eat Him, and visit Him and tell Him your concerns; and so that by your prayer beside the tabernacle and by receiving Him sacramentally, you could fall more in love each day, and help other souls, many souls, to follow the same path.

Good child: see how lovers on earth kiss the flowers, the letters, the mementos of those they love...Then you, how could you ever forget that you have Him always at your side...Yes, Him?"

I'm not always good at spending time with Our Lord just to spend time with Him. I've gone because I feel like I should, or because I notice I'm able to deal with tough times better after I've gone, or because I'm at the end of my rope...but He is always there to spend time with me just to spend time with me. Just because He wants to see me. Many saints call Him the "Prisoner of Love," shutting Himself up in every tabernacle just so we could find Him easily, just so we might stop by and satisfy the longing of His Heart to be loved and to give love. St. Josemaria again reminds us: "When you approach the Blessed Sacrament, remember that He has been waiting for you for twenty centuries."

He wants us to come to dwell in His Heart. He wants us to learn the freedom of living in intimacy with Him. He wants to give us the joy of sinking into the "unfathomable depth" of the ocean that is His love. His Presence changes life from a thing incomprehensible to a thing meant to be lived as a gift...a gift returning to the Creator who gave it.

I'm praying this week you have a chance to spend some time with Him, to stop by one of those tabernacles where He's been waiting for so many hundreds of years. Maybe you do as one priest expressed it and "have a good chat with Our Lord." Maybe you sit in silence, out of words but needing to be warmed by the radiance of His love. 

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P.S. The blue words are hyperlinks - if you click on them it will take you to certain sites with more wondrous saint words. God bless your week, and renew your heart in the knowledge of His love!

And the “Most Opinionated Lump Award” goes to….

Confession: I’m kind of a saint-geek.

Not familiar with the term?

Well, I think I might have invented it, so let me just give a little definition here:

  

So, I have a (sometimes eccentric) devotion to a particular interest, which happens to be saints.

I was that kid who liked flipping through saint encyclopedias.

What, you didn’t know they had saint encyclopedias?

Dude, you’re missing out.

Anyway.

It’s a good thing to study saints. The Church recognizes certain holy people whose example can help inspire us to live in love with Christ. Research of any depth into the lives of saints shows men and women who are sometimes dramatically different from one another in every way except one: a passionate love for God. Each has, if you’ll pardon a pretty sorry simile, a very unique flavor, born of the many thousands of unique personalities and backgrounds from whence they came. Their stories reflect countless starting points converging on the same “narrow way”, and ending at the same destination: an eternity face-to-face with their beloved Creator.

Dramatically different, highly unique people make for fascinating stories.

I have always liked those hyper-dramatic stories, like the one St. Margaret who ran off with her lover, had an illegitimate child, saw her lover murdered, and after a profound conversion spent life as a penitent. Her picture in the children’s illustrated saint book was pretty rad. Definitely caught your eye while you were flipping through.

Or a perennial favorite of mine, Blessed Miguel Pro: the guitar-playing jokester extraordinaire, cartoonist, master of disguise. Finally martyred, the story of his death raises goosebumps at every re-telling.

Eccentric devotees, such as myself, sometimes have the problem of tunnel-vision. I get so awed by their fascinating stories that I lose sight of the purposes God has for me.

Let me explain it like this: do you know that “Potter and the Clay” Bible story?

Admittedly, it’s possible you don’t. If not for my long-suffering Mom, I wouldn’t either. So, for those of you who were not allowed to endlessly replay Donut Man tapes in your childhood, a quick detour to check out Jeremiah 18:1-6.

This word came to Jeremiah from the LORD:

Arise and go down to the potter’s house; there you will hear my word.

I went down to the potter’s house and there he was, working at the wheel.

Whenever the vessel of clay he was making turned out badly in his hand, he tried again, making another vessel of whatever sort he pleased.

Then the word of the LORD came to me:

Can I not do to you, house of Israel, as this potter has done?

… Indeed, like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, house of Israel.

I don’t know about you, but when I talk, I find it difficult to pay attention to anyone else at the same time. I had a sort of mental picture today, of being that lump of clay that kept turning out badly. The reason being that I wouldn’t shut up.

Seriously. Oftentimes in my prayer life I sound like this: “Oh, Lord – look at this saint. Wow, that one is really something. Hey, You did that once. How about another go? I think we should try a little St. Gianna today, with perhaps a few turns of the wheel in a Blessed Chiara-like direction.”

It would be like a lump of clay on a wheel looking around the Potter’s shed as the wheel turns. The response to so many marvelous works should be trust in the Potter’s skill.

My response too often is more like a lump of clay begging: “Oh! What a lovely vase! You should make me into a vase like that one. But wait, no, not a vase – that bowl is very useful. Perhaps a bowl, make me a bowl. No, no! That jar is very sturdy, I should be sturdy, too. Make me a jar!”

What nonsense! The Potter already has the vase, the bowl, the jar – those lumps of clay were already shaped by His hands to match the image He had planned in His Heart. Sometimes very slowly and sometimes quickly, they learned to be unique vessels by their cooperation with His purpose. They chose to respond with an unlimited trust in His mysterious designs for their lives, and with a boundless love to the One who loved them into existence.

When I fail to focus on Him, I become an opinionated lump of clay. Too preoccupied with my own muddled thoughts, I'm incapable of becoming “a vessel of whatever sort He pleased.” I turn out badly when I refuse to rest beneath His hands, when I resist allowing Him to shape me according to the purposes of His Heart.

We serve an endlessly creative God. His ability to shape beauty out of clay does not run out, nor does His patience with sincere-but-opinionated lumps like myself, who sometimes have to learn the hard way.

C.S. Lewis makes the point with these words:

“How monotonously alike all the great tyrants and conquerors have been: how gloriously different are the saints. But there must be a real giving up of the self. You must throw it away ‘blindly’ so to speak. Christ will indeed give you a real personality: but you must not go to Him for the sake of that. As long as your own personality is what you are bothering about you are not going to Him at all. The very first step is to try to forget about the self altogether. Your real, new self (which is Christ's and also yours, and yours just because it is His) will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for Him.”

Knots vs. Pulp...Or is it?

You know that moment when, in addition to the frustration of a “situation,” you have the frustration of not being exactly certain (or being unwilling to admit) what the real problem is? We’re just so full of pent-up angst that reacting in any way at all at least offers the relief of release. Sometimes our spirits are so tied in knots over a deep issue that it seems easier to start yanking away at something insignificant than it is to address a very real, very tangled mess.

There’s a saying in my family for moments like that: “The issue’s not the issue.”

I found myself in one of those situations recently. I’d been yanking away at small things instead of giving God time and space to unravel the knots I’d been making around my heart.

See, I have this new theory that we make a wall of knots around our hearts for a specific reason: we’re getting skittish about being bruised.

After all, who really wants to sign up for getting beaten to a purple-blue-green pulp?

As my siblings and I were always quick to chant for dish duty, “Not It!”

But Mother Mary Francis (abbess of a cloistered community of Poor Clare nuns, by the way. Hardcore, right?) explains something important about this in her book Anima Christi. She tells of traveling with a small group of nuns to found a new monastery. With only a short time to prepare, in their eagerness to work quickly and focus on their individual tasks, they ended up running into each other pretty frequently. She returned home and realized she was covered in bruises, “Beautiful little emblems of our earnest desire to do something beautiful for God…so glad was I to have been bruised in trying to work with and help sisters so dearly loved.”

It was the next part she wrote that really that hit me: “Easily the reflection opens out that we can never help one another spiritually, either, if we do not wish to be bruised. With an unbruised heart we shall never love. Indeed, it is inevitable that when we really love, we shall get bruised.”

I was considering this potentially pulp-like lifestyle when I remembered the mini-epiphany I had on the last feast of St. Thomas the Apostle.

You know Thomas, that doubting guy. I never had much sympathy for that one, I’m afraid. Not that I really thought about him long enough to have much of anything towards him, except a sort of mild bemused feeling. I’m not necessarily one of those “show me” people, I couldn’t exactly relate on that level.

So the mini-epiphany was this: maybe it wasn’t that Thomas wasn’t just all believe-it-when-I-see-it, maybe Thomas was so reluctant to believe the Resurrection because he was hurt.

(Disclaimer: I am by no means a biblical scholar or expert, but I’ve seen Mother Angelica do the “Suppose this about a Bible Person” thing so I’m giving it a try.)

Suppose Thomas came from a tough family. Suppose someone he loved had abandoned him. Maybe he had reasons to fear vulnerability: maybe experience had taught him the heart is safest when it is unattached.

And then there was Jesus. Maybe for three years Thomas let Him untie the knots around his heart, let Him pour love gently into the spaces that perhaps had been bruised.

Supposing that was the case, imagine what it would have been like to lose Him. To lose the Person Whose love you had experienced and lived on for all that time, your best friend, your leader, the center of your dreams and plans…gone.

How much easier, how much more reasonable, to wrap up the heart in angry, doubtful knots than to hold onto something as delicate and fragile as hope. So much simpler to live in our heads instead of loving with our hearts.

So maybe Thomas did just that.

Much as I hate to admit it: maybe I do, too.

Because I cannot express how much I absolutely hate the thought of living as a bruised, pulpy purple mess. Can I get an "Amen"?

But the redeeming beauty here is that Jesus is more familiar with the pains, bruises, wounds, and temptations of the human heart than even we are. We might get bruised, but He doesn’t leave us there. He knew that Thomas, and many more after Thomas, would need the moment where He does not condemn our fear, but reassures our faith. He sees our foolish attempts to avoid disappointment by pretending hope never existed. He places His finger on that wound of our hearts when He invites us to place our finger in the wound of His side.

Now, it is of course important to have a properly formed intellect and will. I'm not talking about flower-power-fluffy-“love” here. I mean real, come-what-may, Christ-like love being lived out for the glory of God.

As a priest told me recently: “Jesus made your heart for something.” He has a plan for it. That plan, I’m pretty sure, does not involve living surrounded by knots. Our Lord wants us to be free to serve Him in love. I can be confident of this because the Church has even given us a representation of the Blessed Mother as Our Lady Undoer of Knots.

Maybe if you’re feeling knotted up, you can ask her to intercede with Her Son that He would set you free, free to love as God intended. If you do, consider yourself in company...I need to ask her that very thing. But there's always hope for us, fragile as it might seem. John 8:36 even promises it:

“For if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.” 

Canticle for the Workers

Normally at Planned Parenthood I have to sidewalk counsel. I say “have to” because I don’t actually like to.  I’d much rather everybody leave me the heck alone so I can focus on praying.

Super saintly, right?

Anyway.

A while back I actually got to do just that: stand around and pray. Other counselors showed up and (bless them!) took right over, and I was free to wander at will. So I paced back and forth, reading my June Magnificat in peace and feeling grateful for the silence, and the early-morning shade.

Shade. Suddenly it struck me that nearly all the shade was from the building. That building is so massive that, in the mornings, nearly the entire street is deep in shadow.

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”

How chillingly appropriate.

But then, so is the next part:  “I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”

At the time I was standing beside the employee parking lot entrances, and so I naturally begin thinking of abortion industry employees…and of all the things their hearts maybe fear. 

Fear seems to be a hallmark of the abortion industry, even among its own workers. Many former abortion industry employees mention hearing that if they tried to find work elsewhere, no-one else would ever hire them, since abortion work was a black mark on their records. They are frozen in place, convinced they are unable to leave, sick at the thought of having to stay.

I got back to “focusing” on the morning prayers, and since it was a Saturday, they were prayers honoring the Blessed Virgin Mary. The next verse to catch my attention? “Behold, your Mother.”

St. Josemaria Escriva wrote a meditation on the Wedding at Cana which I can only describe as endearing. He talks of our weary, cheerless souls and says to Our Lord: “Your Mother will by now have said to You, as at Cana, ‘They have no wine!’”

No wine of joy, or peace.  No wine because we refuse to approach the Vine as the only source capable of quenching our thirst.

My thoughts returned to the employees – “Lord, they have no wine…” No wine of gladness or love, because perfect love casts out fear, and in that place, surely they are afraid.

The next part of morning prayer was the Canticle of Zechariah. I’ve read it many times, but right then, I was seeing it in a new light. It struck me as the perfect prayer for those feeling trapped in the abortion industry. When you get a chance, find the whole thing and read it. Until then, think about the workers as you read this:

“He has come to His people and set them free…He would save us from the hands of our enemies and the hands of all who hate us…He promised to show mercy…to set us free from the hands of our enemies, free to worship Him without fear.”

There’s even a part for the workers who have already been set free, and who reach out to help the ones still caught inside:

“You will go before the Lord to prepare His ways,

to give His people knowledge of salvation

through the forgiveness of their sins.

In the tender compassion of our God

The dawn from on high will break upon us

To shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,

And to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

Praying for the workers. It’s important.

Think about it.

Then let that change the way you think of them, treat them, talk about them. And not just the workers, but the volunteers too. The escorts. The clients.

There’s already plenty of fear around there. Threatening, ugliness, condescension…we say we want to change things, but too often we contribute to the shadows surrounding abortion facilities. The only thing that casts out fear is love.

Not a flimsy tolerance, but real, strong love. If you’re not sure what that looks like, a great place to start is turning to Our Lady, and asking her to go to Jesus and say to Him, “They have no wine!”

Now, as then, we will see He gives only the best to those who ask. Because when you ask for more love, you’re asking for more of Him. And that’s really what He has wanted to give you all along.

To learn more about an amazing new ministry formed especially to help abortion industry workers, click here.

Magic Mike is about...What?!?

I was at the store a while ago to get water for our office. I don’t usually have any issue with slinging three or four cases of water into a cart and then into my SUV. As it turns out, though, it’s a bit difficult to sling 36-bottle-packs around, when one arm is IN a sling.

(Sling = long, at-this-moment-irrelevant story. Focus on the water.)

I managed to shimmy two cases into my cart with one arm, wedging the basket against the shelf with my foot. Impressed with my own abilities, I knew, however, that I wouldn’t actually be able to get them out again.

Moral of the story: it’s a lot easier to put things in, then it is to take them out.

I was considering this and the many examples I could use to reinforce this mini-life-lesson to myself, when it occurred to me: this is the solution to my Magic Mike problem.

See, I have been noticing several Facebook friends posting cheerfully about their plans to go see Channing Tatum’s Magic Mike film. For those of you who haven’t heard about Magic Mike, it’s about a male stripper.

Yep.

Call me old-fashioned, but I was surprised to see more than one young woman I know sharing their excitement about watching Channing Tatum do stripteases, which is essentially what they were saying when they publicized the fact that they were going to a male stripper movie.

Now, these are WONDERFUL young women. Sweet gals.

So I was puzzled. Why in the world would these beautiful people, all of whom I KNOW are looking forward to marriage, or who love their husbands very much, chooseto engage in things which undermine the very relationships which they either enjoy or anticipate the most?

Unless, maybe, (maybe), they didn’t realize that’s what was going on, which is what I definitely prefer to think is going on with the sudden stripper blitz, as opposed to willful undermining.

I’m possibly about to offend somebody here, but I hope not. Because, if I didn’t think well of these women, I wouldn’t bother to say a word. So, please know that I’m putting this down in writing BECAUSE I think you’re amazing girls, and because I think you deserve more than tear-away pants on a two-story screen.

You deserve to be cherished by someone who knows and loves you, and is committed to you – not just to be entertained for a few moments.

And that somebody who does cherish, love, and commit himself to you, deserves the same thing back.

Watching strippers is incredibly unloving towards our fellow human beings who are actually doing the “performances”. Not only does it objectify them by reducing their body to an item for consumption or a source of pleasure, but participation in this kind of "entertainment" also has serious repercussions in other areas - for those "performing" AND those viewing.

We also need to keep in mind that our loving, Heavenly Father spent a whole commandment on “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.” This also applies to women coveting other women’s husbands, and Channing Tatum is married. (Even if he weren’t, he isn’t MY husband, or YOURS, which means we have no business coveting him in any way whatsoever.)

Let’s start with this: I don’t actually know a single woman who isn’t bothered by her husband/fiancée/boyfriend viewing pornography. Puts up with it, sure, that’s possible. Shrugs it off and chalks it up to “boys being boys”, sure, that happens. But not even bothered a single little bit, wouldn’t even change it if she could?

Uh…duh.

But, our men are supposed to be totally okay with us viewing porn? Because, ladies, that’s what stripping basically is, regardless of the stripper’s gender.

If we wouldn’t want our men to do that to us, why would we do that to them?

As women we often have the privilege of being the means that God uses to draw men closer to Himself. I’m not necessarily often good at it, but I really do try to love my sweetheart and to be a means through which he experiences the love of God. And I’m betting most of you try, too. We’re called to that, girls – it’s wired into us, it’s part of our path to sanctity, to God, to an eternity in Heaven. I heard once that both men and women manifest different traits of the Creator. Example: women manifest, among other things, His beauty.

Think about that: we are called to show God’s beauty to the world. The deep, profound beauty of a holy love and quiet service to our brothers and sisters, drawing them closer to the One Who loves them, closer to Heaven. The admiration of our eyes, the affection of our hearts, the moments of our lives…these are things God has given us to give our husbands, serve the Church, bring glory to our Creator, and attain holiness. Spending these precious currencies on things which have no lasting value is a deeply tragic loss. And it’s not so easy to gain back.

It would have been easier for me to pull those cases of water back out of the cart with one arm and load them into my car then it will be to reclaim our spent affection from one object – Channing Tatum in his Magic Mike character, for example – to give it back to our husbands. They will feel compared to the first object of our love if we can’t do it. They shouldn’t ever feel compared, they should have our whole hearts, and to give them our whole hearts we have to protect those hearts fiercely from a world that tries to steal them away.

This is partly why porn is so harmful to relationships, because we feel compared to the computer-enhanced people that are being viewed. It makes us feel lacking, not-enough, insufficient, inadequate.

 “Your boyfriend may appear inadequate.”

One of the TV spots (which I was inadvertently exposed to) for Magic Mike screams those words in big block letters, then flashes images of strippers followed by a character from the movie saying snidely “Can I get an Amen?”

This is not “okay”, or just “entertainment”, this is serious. Even if the gentlemen in our life shrugged, laughed it off, or rolled their eyes – this is damaging. It is damaging to give the admiration of our eyes to a man who is not entitled to it.

Which men are entitled then?

1. 1.     Your husband
2. 2.     If you’re not married, but you’re in a relationship which is discerning marriage, to that gentleman (I refer to mine as my “sweetheart”) J
3. 3.     Our Lord in the Eucharist, the perfect Man.

C.S. Lewis remarked on it with these words:

“You can get a large audience together for a strip-tease act—that is, to watch a girl undress on the stage. Now suppose you come to a country where you could fill a theatre by simply bringing a covered plate on to the stage and then slowly lifting the cover so as to let everyone see, just before the lights went out, that it contained a mutton chop or a bit of bacon, would you not think that in that country something had gone wrong with the appetite for food?”

Dear ladies – we need to follow the advice given in the Song of Songs on this matter. Three times, in three separate places, the exact same words are used as a caution: “I charge you, my daughters…do not stir up nor awaken love until its own time.”

Protect your heart for your husband, don’t give it away for the pleasure that lasts only a moment.