Short Eudemon today. Things kind of exploded around here last night: Marie got tied up at a travel soccer game until 9:00; I undertook to open the pool for her as a surprise–and got caught up in a lot more (deck sweeping, clearing leaf sludge, etc.) than I anticipated; when Marie got home, Max (4) was vomiting; house needed cleaning; etc. and etc. Such is life in a large family, and such results in short blog entries. A few things:
Anyone know anything about the official saint status of the Martin family, as in “Family of St. Therese Lisieux”? I know her father, Louis Martin, was declared “venerable” in 1994. Has his cause advanced since then? Also, which of St. Therese’s four sisters have been canonized, beatified, or declared venerable? Any information (and/or links) is greatly appreciated. The combox is open and my email link is on the left.
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Another request for comments: Has anyone seen the comedy act, Late Night Catechism? We’re bringing the show to our parish, and I saw the promo for it yesterday. Out of a dozen or so excerpts, one was offensive (and wildly inaccurate about Catholic teaching) and two were borderline offensive. I’m told many good Catholics think it’s hilarious and not offensive. Apparently, I’m one of those guys without a sense of humor because the promo didn’t much amuse me, but maybe that’s because the very first excerpt was the offensive one. Anyway, I’m just trying to figure out whether it’s offensive to Catholic sensibilities. I’m also curious to know whether people think it’s funny, but I’m primarily focusing on the offensive angle.
I’m impressed that the reliable Denver Catholic Register gives it high marks (“Though there is an element of good-natured satire, ‘Late Nite Catechism’ is very respectful of the faith”).
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You wonder why there are no “catch? bachelors for women in their late 20s and 30s? The newest theory: The weaker bidders (maybe the less-attractive women) bid harder at earlier ages, knowing it might be harder for them to make a good match. The stronger bidders (the babes) are smug and hold out for the real studs. By the time the babes get older, the pool of parallel-attractive men has shrunk. Not a bad theory. You can read about it here.
The thing that I find interesting: I’m comfortable that you will miss nothing of importance by skipping the article and reading my above blurb instead. It’s a perfect example of why magazine articles need to be spiced up with interesting and entertaining facts and observations. The typical article’s point can be made in 250 words or less. If you want to make it into an article, be sure to stuff it with other good stuff.
Our Catholic bible study group went to see Late Nite Catechism about a month ago…and loved it! There are one or two moments that would make you cringe if considered in isolation; however, the lampooning of old-time 50’s style catholic education is done with such affection– rather than rancor — that it takes the “edge” off the jokes. The principal and 6th grade math teacher from our parish grade school were in the audience as well — I kept looking over at them to see if they seemed offended, since much of the jokes are at the expense of the nuns who taught us. But they were laughing louder than we were. I wholeheartedly recommend the show.
Thanks for the input.
No one knows anything about the Martin canonizations? Wow, I’m surprised.
Late Nite Catechism is an absolute riot. We saw it at a small, upstairs theater at Notre Dame. You should know that proceeds from the show go to the local sponsor AND to support retired Sisters around the United States. The show really is a nostalgic look back at Catholicism of the 1950’s and 1960’s…it will bring back a lot of memories of things we’ve forgotten or cast aside…some of those things that, if still in existence, might insure sustainable Catholic education systems and standing room only Masses on Sundays.
People latch onto the cultural and iconic parts of life–be it religion, sports, history. Without those dressings or trappings, the sense of identity is lost. Our local priest is trying so hard to re-instill a lot of our faith’s historic fabric…but most people in the pews don’t remember them and don’t understand their existence. Late Nite Catechism will make you feel very good about being Catholic and make you hunger for “the good old days.”
I’ve seen it. I would not see it again.
I’d like to think that I am, as a literature major from ND, both literate and theologically attuned. Maybe ordination has had some effect upon my tastes. I found it to be mocking the Church.
As a pastor who has watched comedians mock the Church, commentators excoriate the Church, etc., I want people to take their faith more seriously, to take the Catholic Church more seriously. But let’s dress a fat lady in a sister’s religious habit and have her wag her finger and roll her eyes and go over the top on this and that. Such cliched performance doesn’t need to be consistent throughout. Just place a few good jabs here and there, and it’s enough to begin undermining people’s respect — not that they had a lot to begin with when they came into the theatre. The cheapening effect is not really subtle. I liken it to all those sitcoms that portray dads in families as oafish dolts out of touch with their wives and kids — it’s too easy. Ultimately, this play is directly at odds with what I’m am trying to accomplish as a pastor and preacher. Believe me, as a homilist, I know what it means to go for the cheap laugh, and how it undermines the message.
Quite frankly, I’m still waiting for “Late Nite Baptist Prayer Meetin'” and “Late Nite Synagogue” and that ever popular hit, “Late Nite Mosque.” But as promoters of this stuff will tell us, we Catholics have to be tolerant and show we can take criticism and be made light of in these productions. Sorry, I don’t buy it.
I ask the question, Cui bono? Who benefits from this kind of theatre? A local production makes money at the expense of making light of the Catholic Church, with the all important phrase that absolves the producers, “But it’s all in good fun.” And the playwright and publisher laugh all the way to the bank.
End of rant.
Fr. Stanley–We need to share your thoughts with Holy Angels parishioners…some were taken aback by your refusal to allow tickets to be sold in Coldwater last week. You’ve approached it from both intellectual and emotional pov.
The version I saw at Notre Dame featured a normal size woman who did not affect an Irish accent. Again, the production company donates lots of money to support female religious…$2,000,000 through 2007. For a list of all the orders that have received donations from productions of this show, visit: http://www.latenitecatechism.info.
I’m a guy who took his family to the Shrine of Our Lady of Consolation in Carey, OH for spring break. I study Merton and try to practice contemplative prayer. I’m a serious Catholic. This show gives us chance to look in the mirror, at ourselves, and laugh at the little things we’ve all experienced. If we can’t do that, how can we have empathy for our brothers and sisters?
Father, I agree. I cringe when I happen to catch a comic on television…or worse…some talking head…slamming my faith. But, that’s not Late Nite Catechism.
Let me introduce you to one of our host’s favorite writers, John Zmirak, as he is presented in the most recent edition [Thursday, 24 April 08] of ZENIT.org news, in an article by Elizabeth Lev [daughter of US Ambassador to the Vatican Maryann Glendon]. Mr. Zmirak has some interesting things to say about humor and the Church.
By Elizabeth Lev
VATICAN CITY, APRIL 23, 2008 (Zenit.org).- In his 1980 novel “The Name of the Rose,” Umberto Eco dedicated a lengthy erudite section to the question, “Did Jesus Laugh?” Reading the works of Catholic author John Zmirak, he probably laughs a lot.
John Zmirak, a Queens-born author, journalist and apologist, regaled students and adults alike last week in Rome during the launch of his new book “The Grand Inquisitor.”
I spoke to Zmirak about how he reconciled a rapier wit with an ironclad faith, and was fascinated to hear the story of how this prickly pear of piety sprouted in the heart of 1970s Queens.
While other adolescents challenged authority by flaunting curfews or smoking, Zmirak was a youthful rebel for God. During his sophomore year, his religion teachers at his local Catholic high school began teaching notions contrary to the faith. Not being particularly well formed, Zmirak absorbed the doubts and contradictions until one day he was told that the transubstantiation — the change of bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ — wasn’t real.
The 15-year-old student balked, remembering vividly his mother explaining that when the bells rang “the bread turns into God.” (This by the way, is a reminder of the centrality of the role of parents in the formation of children.)
Zmirak found a Catechism and read the Church’s teaching for himself. Outraged, the teenager began a letter-writing campaign to his local bishop, persevering in the face of indifference and even hostility. One can almost imagine Zmirak as an early Christian martyr, proclaiming his faith and poking fun at his persecutors even as he faced the lions in the arena.
Zmirak’s unique perspectives and fine mind won him a scholarship at Yale, where he faced the full gale of secular intelligentsia. But he soon realized that it wasn’t the finely reasoned arguments against the tenets of Catholicism that were weakening the faithful, but ridicule.
Zmirak has an unusual take on what undermined the faith of Catholics in America. “It wasn’t eroded by earnest atheists and intellectual attacks,” he states. “What broke down ordinary people was a thousand clever comedic skits.”
So George Carlin and Saturday Night Live’s Father Guido Sarducci are responsible for the rise of the “cafeteria Catholics?” Zmirak says yes. “If you get people laughing, whatever your message is, it slides in unnoticed under the door.”
And thus Zmirak found his vocation. He thought that if humor could be used against the Church, then it could be used for it.
Two of the author’s most popular books are “The Bad Catholic’s Guide to Good Living” and “The Bad Catholic’s Guide to Wine, Whiskey and Song.” Like handbooks for fraternity boys, these books dream up parties, games and drinking activities, all laced with good humor and anchored in Catholic belief.
The good-living guide is dedicated to the fine sense of humor of the Pope John Paul II. Zmirak points out that the Pope not only brought down the Iron Curtain, but also won hearts with his refreshing comedic moments. Even a generation raised on Seinfeld and Monty Python found him accessible.
His guide follows the liturgical calendar with hilarious takes on the individual feasts and recipes and party ideas to celebrate them. In the pages of his book, every day is a reason to make merry in the Catholic world.
The “Guide to Wine, Whiskey and Song” is the rarest of things — a successful sequel. From A to Z, Zmirak runs through the most well-stocked liquor cabinet imaginable, tracing every form of spirit and elixir back to its Christian origin. In the finest of traditions, he also provides drinking songs, the funniest being Monty Python’s “Philosopher Song” reworked to feature heretics.
Zmirak’s latest effort, “The Grand Inquisitor” is a different genre for him, a graphic novel. Dubbed the anti-“Angels and Demons,” the story is set during a conclave, involves kidnapped cardinals, but champions the cause of orthodoxy and fidelity to the magisterium.
“The Grand Inquisitor” features all the staples of a good noir thriller — dark, graphic design, striking portraits and flashes of razor sharp wit — but contrary to genre which invariably transmits an anti-Christian message, Zmirak’s story is rooted in love for the Church.After several days with John Zmirak, it became clear that a deep faith and great intelligence provide ballast for what seems to be Christendom’s first stand-up comic. A refreshing reminder of how it takes all kinds to make the Catholic Church.
Meistergoat,
Non disputandem de gustibus. This play isn’t my “cuppa tea.” I don’t dispute or challenge anyone’s Catholic bona fides here.
I am interested in learning more about people being “taken aback” by my refusal to promote the play in my parish. I received information in the mail, including flyers for posting. I set them aside. Then a very nice lady from Holy Angels came with more flyers, and without my permission, began to place them in the lobby of the church here. She had spoken with the retired priest who assists here — a former pastor of Holy Angels, too — and he spoke about the play from the pulpit after communion. I had already given announcements after communion, and had omitted any reference to the play. My retired colleague took it upon himself to promote the play.
I would point out that my retired colleague doesn’t attend plays — he has not seen this play. He promoted a production he had not experienced. I had seen it, and opted not to promote. I did not criticize it from the pulpit, nor did I discourage any of my parishioner from seeing it.
I don’t know of any pastor who would appreciate someone coming in to a parish and promoting something without the expressed permission of the pastor of that place. I can understand that someone would make a presumption of understanding. At the time, I did not make a huge thing of it — I spoke to the very nice lady briefly and quietly. She seemed to understand what I said. I don’t think I was rude or vague.
As a pastor, I am well aware of the need for creative fundraising and stewardship. I am concerned about how we raise money. Over the past nine years as pastor here, I have seen what happens to people when they are only concerned with “the bottom line” — and it can lead to a coarsening or dulling of sensibilities. And I have tried to be a leader to my flock, not so much by hectoring and badgering, but by leading away from some things to embrace other things. For instance, I have tried to lead away from fundraising that entails gambling — I am not a huge fan of Las Vegas Nights and casino gaming.
I just think we need to become more circumspect, and ask about the long-term effects of what we do, not merely looking at “the bottom-line,” to see how much we can get from this.
I’m all for having a sense of humor, and being able to laugh at one’s self. But that is for the individual. In a time when the Church has been under steady criticism [much of it justified, I quickly add], I really think we ought to be looking at ways to promote the Church to be taken more seriously rather than less, to sober up rather than to lighten up, to promote the Good News without giving in to the culture’s demand that we be entertainers and hucksters, and humoring and catering to tastes, rather than appealing to hearts and minds to conversion and discipleship.
fabuloso remos de fadegias y decamo con paramenio anemurgia. dontro a ontra y buntes prererg con ograpes tameria!