TheCrockery

Easiest Turkey EVER

2008-11-29T17:45:00.003-05:00

For real, y'all. This is THE simplest way to cook a turkey breast. (And of course, it's perfect for taking to a potluck dinner.)

1. First, make sure you have a turkey breast that fits in your large oval slow cooker. (Not all turkey breasts will fit.) Grease the crock (or its liner) thoroughly before starting.

2. Next, follow this recipe. . .

3. . . . with one addition: melt 1/4 a cup of butter (half a stick) in the microwave and pour that over the turkey breast.

4. As the turkey nears completion, siphon or scoop out a cup or two of liquid. Use that to make your gravy.

This result is white meat that is both moist and flavorful. It is perfect if you are cooking a holiday meal for a small party or a small family. (And since the turkey is made in a slow cooker, your oven is left free for things like rolls, casseroles, or pie.) This recipe just might make me fall in love with my slow cooker all over again.

Variation on Busy Day Italian Chicken

2008-08-18T16:56:00.002-04:00

The Buns in the Oven cookbook contains a recipe titled "Busy Day Italian Chicken." This chicken-and-sausage pasta sauce is, I suspect, pure genius for its ease of preparation and taste. It is one of the many simple homestyle recipes that make that cookbook well worth buying (hint, hint).

However, I've never been able to make it according to the directions, because I never keep the right ingredients on hand.

Instead of following the recipe, then, I do what I so often do when trying to cook: I make up something similar that uses the ingredients I do have. The following is my patented Crockery Variation on Lisa's delicious Busy Day Italian Chicken.

Ingredients for the sauce
2 jars of garlic and mushroom pasta sauce
2 cans of Italian-flavored diced tomatoes, undrained
2-3 pounds boneless, skinless chicken
1 pound sweet Italian sausage, cut into bite-sized (or semi-bite-sized) pieces
3 teaspoons minced garlic
1-2 teaspoons Italian pepper blend
about 8-12 oz. fresh Crimini mushrooms, sliced or chopped for ease of consumption

For the meal:
pasta
olive oil
parmesan cheese
garlic bread

Directions:
1. Grease or spay the inside of a large slow cooker crock. (You will DEFINITELY need a large cooker for this recipe!)
2. Prepare all the meats; place in pot.
3. Add in tomatoes and pasta sauce.
4. Season with minced, chopped, or crushed garlic. Add red pepper seasoning to taste.
5. Cook on LOW for 8 hours.
6. You may add the mushrooms in step 2, or you may wait a few hours and add them later so that they don't overcook.

Serve over fresh cooked pasta of your choice. This recipe will make enough sauce to feed approximately a million people (okay, more like 8-10), but that's the beauty of it: if you're feeding a smaller group, you can freeze the leftover sauce and keep it for an even *busier* day.

Sometimes I hate having a pedagogical conscience

2008-08-15T19:44:00.002-04:00

. . . because all I really want to teach in my literature classes is a range of ghost stories, mysteries, and sensation novels. Really, is that so wrong? All of those genres do or did important cultural work in their own era.

Instead, there are these concepts of "coverage" and "canon" and "course objectives." You know, things I have to teach my students so that I can go home at the end of the semester and feel that I have given a handful of young Americans just a little bit more cultural depth.

It is syllabus time in our house. I have been tinkering with a syllabus for a new (to me) survey course for some time, but now I really have to get cranking, and I don't like it. What I really want to do is run my classroom like a bookclub . . . one where I get to pick all the books. (Bossy much? Why yes, thank you.)

Perhaps my day will come when I get to teach a graduate level course. Graduate courses are more often themed, so all I have to do is come up with a wicked cool theme that somehow manages to encompass all the most fun books I can think of.

I'm working on it, I tell you. But in the meantime, I have a general survey course to plan: two hundred years of literature. Surely I won't be blamed for slipping a little Conan Doyle in there, you think? Just one of the short stories . . . it'll tide me over until the day I can manufacture a justifcation for teaching Laurie R. King's The Moor alongside The Hound of the Baskervilles.

Now you're cooking with beef heart!

2008-07-31T14:12:00.003-04:00

Long time readers of my blog know that I have a habit of picking up mysterious cuts of meat at the grocery store simply because they're cheap, then frantically searching the web to find recipes or directions for cooking said meat. This post is about my experiment with a cut of beef not often found on American tables: beef heart.

Really, people, it's good! It's not gross! It's lean muscle, so it's good for you, and it's tasty. And did I mention that it's cheap? If you can find it, it is likely to be cheaper than ground beef, let alone a roast.

The meat I picked up came already sliced, so it was ready to cook. (Whew! I wouldn't have to prepare the meat from scratch!)

After asking around on the 'net, and googling for recipes, I decided to try panfrying the meat along with mushrooms, as that seemed to be a commonly recommended way of preparing it. I found a basic recipe on Cooks.com, and adapted it to create the recipe below.

Ingredients
1- 1 1/2 pounds sliced raw beef heart
3/4 cup flour
1 tsp salt (or more, to taste)
1/2 tsp pepper
1/2 tsp paprika (or more, to taste, if you like it spicy)
1 tsp thyme
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1/2- 1 cup water
1 lb fresh mushrooms

Directions
1. Begin by browning the sliced beef heart in a large skillet; choose a skillet that has a lid!
2. In a large ziplock bag or shaking bad, combine flour with salt, pepper, and paprika.
3. When beef is brown, carefully transfer it to the bag. Close bag and shake up contents thoroughly, so that the beef is covered with the flour mixture.
4. Return meat to the skillet. Add garlic, thyme, red wine vinegar, and water- note that it may take more or less water, depending on the amount of meat you have and the size of the skillet.
5. Bring meat to a simmer, stirring often. Cover and allow to simmer for about 40-50 minutes, or until meat is tender, adding water as necessary.
6. Add mushrooms and cook for an additional 15 minutes. (Warning: you may need to cook the mushrooms for longer than this for best results; I was disappointed in how the mushrooms turned out when I made the meal.)

Serve the beef over rice, buttered egg noodles, or mashed potatoes.

I have to stress that I was a bit disappointed in the mushrooms; they just didn't taste good. I might try using a different type of mushroom in the future, or cooking them for longer. The beef, however, was pretty good, and it seemed to go well with the whole wheat egg noodles I used.

Should Professor Myers be fired?

2008-07-25T12:55:00.004-04:00

Catholic bloggers and newsources have been informing the Catholic blog-reading public of the doings of Professor P.Z. Myers, who publicly displayed an act of desecration against the Eucharist and a page from the Koran. Most recently, Jimmy Akin has called for Myers' termination, on the grounds that Myers has behaved unethically and disrespectfully, in violation of the university's code of conduct.

I don't think the academy works that way, and I'm not sure that it should. Myers is a tenured faculty member. As such, he can be fired for gross misconduct. But generally speaking, tenured faculty members are fired for misconduct directly related to their work as teachers or scholars. A faculty member might be able to be fired for hate speech taking place in the classroom, or at a university-sponsored event. Sexual harassment of a student would also constitute grounds for dismissal.

But Myers' act of disrespect did not take place at a university-sponsored event, and (so far as I know), it wasn't publicized in his classroom. He publicized the event in his private blog, which doesn't claim to be affiliated with the university.

And that's why I, speaking both as a Catholic scholar and a faculty member at a state-affiliated university, have to answer "no" to the question "Should P.Z. Myers be fired?" When faculty members speak and act as representatives of the university, that's one thing. In those conditions they may indeed be held to high and precise ethical standards. But when faculty members speak as private citizens --or even as public intellectuals in their own right-- that's different.

I feel strongly about this precisely because I know that some of my own views don't accord with the common beliefs of the secular academy. There's a reason why I try to blog anonymously, but I know that my anonymity isn't perfect. If a tenured faculty member at a public institution can be fired for displaying his own anti-religious anxieties on a private blog, how can I be sure that a post explaining my views on _FITB_ subject will not be held up as evidence of my lack of professionalism or respect?

I'm not saying that academic freedom has no limits. If Myers publicly abuses the religious beliefs of his students in a university setting, I agree that he should be fired. If it is true that his desecration of a consecrated host is against the law (based on the idea that the only way to obtain such a thing is through a form of theft), that may also constitute grounds for discipline or dismissal.

But I'm reluctant to say that hate speech uttered in a faculty member's private life is necessarily grounds for dismissal. Tenure exists to protect academic freedom, but it also effectively protects what I can only call jackassitude. We all know that there are jackasses in the academy, and one of the effects of tenure is that it protects them. You can't fire someone just for being a jerk. And, much as it pains me to say this, you shouldn't be able to fire a tenured faculty member just for being a jerk. At many schools, a lack of collegiality may be grounds for denying someone tenure- but once that person is tenured, you can't simply weed him or her out of the department on the grounds of being unlikeable. Allowing such dismissals would open the door to all sorts of quiet discrimination.

Having said that, I have to add that there are other sorts of pressure that can be exerted on someone like Myers who acts as a sort of public intellectual. I hope, for example, that people will think twice before inviting him to speak at public events. I hope that his department puts some informal pressure on him to behave. But I can't get behind the grassroots movement to demand his dismissal. I think that's a mistake.

Super-easy "Italian-esque" steak

2008-06-16T21:29:00.002-04:00

I've been bad. I admit it. I said that I was going to try a new series of posts, and I didn't. No excuses: I just didn't do it.

But, as a peace offering, I offer this super-easy recipe, perfect for the lazy cook.

Ingredients
* about 1 1/2 -2 pounds cube steak or Swiss steak; should be divided into 3-4 portions. (Hint: it is often labeled for "pan frying" and is easily recognizable because it has been scored, pierced, or pounded, leaving a distinctive pattern). This should be thin steak, 1/2 an inch thick or less.
* One can diced Italian-style tomatoes
* 1/8 - 1/4 cup favorite brand Italian dressing (approximately)
* 1-2 teaspoons minced garlic
* grated or shredded Parmesan cheese, to taste.

Directions:
1) Marinade the steaks in the Italian dressing for at least an hour. (Be generous with the amount of dressing!)

2) Heat the garlic in a large skillet at medium-high heat. The goal here is two-fold. You want to get the skillet hot enough to cook steak, and you want to saute the garlic. (If you are using real, freshly minced garlic, add a teaspoon of olive oil for this step. I cheat by using minced garlic which is stored in oil.)

3) Fry the steaks in the garlic. Do not overcook! The steaks will likely take only about four minutes to cook.

4) Remove the steaks from the skillet and sprinkle with Parmesan. Again, be generous! After you have cheesified the steaks a little, move them to a warm and cozy place. (For example, place them on a heated plate and/or cover them with foil.) It's not that important HOW you keep them warm; you just don't want them to get cold during the next step.

5) Add the can of diced tomatoes to the contents of the skillet. Heat to boiling. Boil for at least 3 minutes.

6) If you are doling out the steaks yourself, place each steak on a plate and cover with a generous (you know I was going to use that word again, didn't you?) portion of the tomatoes. Then sprinkle even more cheese on top of the whole thing, if desired. If guests serve themselves at your table, place the tomato mixture into a separate bowl or gravy boat and allow guests to spoon as much as they want on top of their steaks. Provide extra Parmesan if said guests are extra-cheesy people.

I estimate that this recipe will serve 3-4 people, depending on how the steaks are cut.

Credit where credit is due: I adapted this recipe from one which I found on the label of a package of meat. It might have been supplied by the Beef Council or some similar group, but I have no idea who. In any case, I salute you, Beef Packager who provides good recipes!

It's here! It's here!

2008-04-21T16:30:00.003-04:00

Some of you may remember that last year, Leopoldtulip bought a Nintendo Wii as his reward for finishing his dissertation. Well, guess what I bought as my reward for graduating/landing a job/etc.? Originally, I proposed the purchase of a Rumba, but as you can see, I went with an electronic toy that was a little more fun.

Yes my friends, that is an Amazon Kindle.

And yes, it's here! True, I have grocery shopping to do, papers to grade, fifty pages of a Victorian novel to read, lesson plans to type up, and dinner to cook. But I must take a moment to bask in the glory of technology.

Truly, this is an historic day.

New series of posts?

2008-04-02T12:48:00.003-04:00

I want to let you, my loyal readers (all two of you!), know that I actually keep having what I think are interesting ideas to blog about. It's just that what happens is I think of the idea at a time when it's impossible to blog: on the bus, or in my office on campus, or while I'm supposed to be preparing for class. As a result, there are a number of subjects I've been meaning to post on. These include the scariness of college campuses, the quirks of public transportation, and some other subject that I had planned to post about but have now completely forgotten. This last one really saddens me, because I had the whole post all worked out in my head, including the points I was going to make and how I would space the paragraphs. But I have no idea now what the subject matter was. It might have had something to do with food, but I'm not sure.

Speaking of food, I have made a couple of really good meals lately. . . and have now forgotten all about them.

Ah well. What I'm planning on doing now, however, is something innovative -for me. Instead of writing one long post with lots of bullet points or a numbered outline, I'm going to try to do a series of short posts now and then on the same subject. The idea is that rather than needing an hour to come up with a well-organized statement about Whatever, I will just jot down a quick thought about the matter. In theory, all these quick thoughts will be related and could be put together into a coherent whole.

The series of posts I'm planning on doing is, incidentally, related to some of my earlier posts about ghosts and "the creepy." But this one has nothing to do with the supernatural or with religion (which, come to think of it, is also supernatural, but why is it that when we say "the supernatural" in this context, we never mean to include religion?)

What I'm going to blog about is the creepiness of colleges. Granted, I only have experience of three colleges, but all three have seriously creeped me out, and I find that intriguing. Why --you ask-- should three different locations, in three different states, all be creepy? Because, I answer, there is something fundamentally creepy about college campuses, and I want to offer some suggestions about what that is.

Actually, I should use the plural, because I don't think there is any one thing that makes a campus creepy. I think there are multiple factors, and some campuses will have more of one and less of another. Some people will experience some of the factors, but not others. I fully grant that there may be campuses somewhere that preternaturally uncreepy. And I grant that there are students out there who are never creeped out by the things that creep me out. This will certaintly be a very individual list of creepy things: I can't predict what will or will not scare other people. For scientific purposes* I encourage my readers to share their own creepy college experiences in the combox.

But you'll have to wait till later for that, because I have to get ready to catch the bus.

* Yeah, right!

The Ecumenism of the Cross

2008-03-21T18:57:00.005-04:00

Today, instead of going to the traditional Catholic Good Friday service, I went to the "ecumenical service" held at the nearest Catholic church. I knew nothing about what the service would be like, other than that the preacher was going to be from a local Protestant church.

As it turns out, there were a number of pastors present, mostly from mainline denominations. There were a couple of representatives from the United Methodist Church, for example, and ministers from local churches representing the Disciples of Christ , the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and the American Baptist Churches-USA. And, of course, there was a local Catholic priest- a fellow who'd been involved in the civil rights movement in the 60s.

When I sat down to blog, I wanted to point out the names of some denominations which, though present in the area, were not represented at this ecumenical service. On further thought, I think that's a pointless and potentially uncharitable endeavor. I don't know how many other ministers might have been invited to the event, nor what reasons they might have had for declining. It's not really my job to speculate why so and so from such a church was not there.

What I do want to say is this: over the last few years, I've heard a good deal about the "ecumenism of the trenches" experienced by "conservative" Catholic and evangelical Christians, supposedly based on their learning that they have more in common with each other than with the "liberal" members of their own traditions. Often, this ecumenism is built on shared political goals. And, in some of my past posts and comments, I've suggested that there are limitations to an "ecumenism of the trenches" that unites Christians across denominational lines but not across political parties. Today, rather than focusing on those limitations, I want to suggest that there are alternative models for practical ecumenism. What I saw today was not an ecumenism of the trenches, built on a shared stance in the culture wars, but an ecumenism of the cross, built on Calvary.

At the service I attended today, there were some references made to the homeless, the outcast of society, and our solidarity with them. But that was not the central point of the service. Instead, as the first speaker -the Catholic priest- made it clear, we were here because what we shared as Christians was that we were united by the cross, the symbol of our faith . . . and Good Friday, as the preacher made it clear, is all about the cross.

Surely, that's what prayer in common ought to be: being united over the central mysteries of the Christian faith: the incarnation, the scandal of the cross, the glory of the resurrection. These things are more important than the political alliances which may divide or unite us. And I'd like to see more Christians, of all persuasions -progressive, moderate, or conservative- united in prayer in the shadow of the cross.

Long live the ecumenism of the cross!

I don't just write about food . . .

2007-12-18T19:54:00.000-05:00

. . . I AM food!

You Are a Gingerbread House

A little spicy and a little sweet, anyone would like to be lost in the woods with you.

What Holiday Food Are You?

Pork Chili Verde for Two

2007-12-01T18:30:00.000-05:00

Several weeks ago, I picked up a package of chopped pork on sale at the supermarket. There were no cooking instructions with this cut, but it was labelled "pork chili verde." I had never prepared chili verde. In fact, I'm not sure that I'd ever eaten it. But I followed my usual course of action when confronted with a mystery meat: I googled it. In this case, fortunately, I found a number of recipes of varying degrees of complexity. The recipe I eventually decided on came from Cooks.com. I scaled it down for a smaller amount of meat, adjusted the spices, and came up with the following excellent dish. This is one of most successful new slow cooker meals I've made in months, so I thought I'd share it here.

Main Ingredients
1 lb pork meat, chopped and prepared for chili verde
2 tbsp olive oil
3 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 medium or 1/2 large onion, chopped
3 chopped green chili peppers, OR a mixture of green and yellow peppers
1 14 oz can of diced or chopped tomatoes
1 tsp cilantro, fresh or frozen (Hint: if you don't use cilantro regularly, look for cubed, frozen cilantro at Trader Joe's. It may make your life easier!)
dash to 1/8 tsp cumin (Truth time: I didn't measure this; I just sprinkled some in. Use discretion.)
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
sliced jalapenos, if desired (Use discretion. You can also keep these for garnishing the dish.)

Accompaniments
shredded chedder-jack mixture, aka fiesta cheese
cooked brown or white rice, or cooked macaroni

Directions
1. Brown cubes of pork meat in the olive oil, along with the garlic and onion.
2. Grease the liner of your small to medium-sized slow cooker. Pour in the pork mixture. Combine with all other main ingredients.
3. Cook on low for 6-8 hours, or on high for 4-6 hours. As always, cooking times may vary depending on your slow cooker.
4. Serve by pouring the pork over rice or macaroni. Garnish with shredded cheese. Accompany the dish with pinto beans or black beans and flour tortillas on the side, if desired.

Apple-icious Pork Chops

2007-10-17T21:42:00.001-04:00

I feel it only fair to warn my readers that my husband thought that these pork chops were not as good as previous apple-and-pork chops I had made. Since I am fairly confident that he is wrong, I shall post the recipe anyway!

Ingredients
About 1 - 1 1/2 pound of thin, boneless pork chops (I used five very small chops)
2-3 small apples suitable for baking
about 1/2 - 1 cup SPICED apple cider (Note: if using plain cider or apple juice, you will probably want to add cloves and more cinnamon in step 6.)
salt and pepper to taste
dash of celery salt
1 tsp ground sage
1/2 tsp ground ginger
dash of cinnamon

Directions
1) Grease or spray with cooking spray the lining of a medium-sized slow cooker.
2) Peel, core, and slice the apples. Place apples in the bottom of the slow cooker.
3) Sprinkle the chops with salt, pepper, and celery salt. Make sure you get a liberal amount of spices on both sides.
4) Place chops over the apples in the slow cooker.
5) Pour cider over everything. Don't add too much: you don't need to have everything floating in cider. You just want to add enough to keep everything moist and flavorful.
6) Add ground ginger and sage. Sprinkle a dash of cinnamon on top. Stir until ingredients are fairly well mixed.
7) Cook on low for about 8 hours, or on high for 4-6 hours. By the time the meal is done, the chops should be falling into pieces. For this recipe, that's a good thing!
8) Stir before serving. You may want to serve this in a bowl, as it'll be sloppy!

Stuffing makes a good accompaniment for this meal.

Increasingly Moved In

2007-09-20T17:15:00.001-04:00

The movers dropped off all of our worldly goods at the beginning of August, and initially, we were quite enthusiastic about opening up boxes, moving furniture around, and placing books on bookshelves. At least, we were enthusiastic about finding such necessities as our plates and silverware, not to mention our dvd player and Leopoldtulip's Wii. Once all of the kitchen goods were unpacked, though, we seemed to lose steam. Then classes started, and the number of boxes unpacked per week slowed to a tiny handful.

There are still boxes littering our apartment, but today I am optimistic. Today I reached a milestone: I hung the last of the pictures on the wall. Technically, there are still a couple of photos that need to be put into frames, and there's still a suncatcher that I have yet to hang up because I don't know how to hang it, but since those items weren't on display in our previous apartment, they don't count. With the exception of a missing calendar, everything we used to have hanging up is now hanging up once again. (And, I was able to crush and dispose of two more boxes.) Woo hoo!

There's a second cause for woo-hooing: we now have cable! No longer must we rely on the sporadic reception of our bunny ears. Now, we're wired, with digital cable, no less. And as I sit at my computer, ostensibly working on academic Project A (but in reality catching up on message boards), I realize something very profound: cable is a bad, bad idea for a procrastinator. I am not even very fond of television, and yet it calls to me. It says "hey, you really ought to figure out how this all works before Leopold comes home, so that you can show him the ropes. Hey, you went to all the work of hanging pictures on the wall, and you deserve a break. Hey, you're going to get a repetitive stress disorder from too much typing if you work at the computer all day. Come to me. Bask in my warm glowing warming glow."

For now, I am resisting, but for how long? If you never hear from me again, O my brothers and sisters, know that I have been swallowed up by the monstrosity that is Comcast.

The Incredibly Stupid Journey

2007-09-12T12:46:00.000-04:00

This morning, Cricket the housecat escaped. Much panic ensued. There was much cursing, some frantic telephone calls, some prayer, and much speculation. I dressed in a hurry and raced out without my breakfast, calling "Cricket! CricketER! CRIKEY! Here, kitty kitty kitty!" and other such things.

"Why all the panic? He's just a cat!" you may say, and you'd be right, but he's the cat I took with me to graduate school. He is my first "grown up" pet. "He can survive outside," you might say, and you might be right. However, Cricket is an indoor-only cat, and he has been declawed. He does not know how to behave around cars. He cannot defend himself against dogs or cruel children. He is not vaccinated against FIV, so a bite from an infected cat could be fatal. He hasn't even been given preventative medicine for fleas, since he is never exposed to them. He has a collar and ID tag, but I never make him wear it. He was certainly not wearing his identification this morning.

After a time of fruitlessly calling his name, I went back and ate my breakfast, on the grounds that maybe he'd come back on his own. Then I went out again, calling for him. This time, I left the apartment complex and looked in the yeards of the nearest houses, occasionally calling "Cricket?" No Cricket.

I came back, and decided that I should walk the other direction past my apartment. I hadn't really gone this way yet. I was reluctant to go this way, because if you walk this way, you end up at a major through street. There's a large empty lot across from the apartment complex which might be appealing to a cat, but you have to cross the busy street to get to it. If I found Cricket there, it might be in the form of roadkill.

I don't know what made me look up at the second-floor apartment in the building next to ours. Maybe there was a sound. Maybe I was just scanning automatically. Either way, I saw a pair of huge green eyes set in a dark face, peering through the railing above me. "Cricket?" I asked. "CRICKET?" I think he made a tiny noise when he saw that I was addressing him, but he didn't come down to me. I had to go upstairs to get him. Still, he seemed relieved when I picked him up. "This isn't our apartment," I told him, but I don't think he really grasped that. Apparently all he knew about our apartment was that it was at the top of a flight of stairs. He had climbed up a flight of stairs; ergo, he must be home. He seemed to be expecting me to just open the door and let him in, and was surprised and upset when I carried him away.

So that's the subject of this post: how can a cat be so stupid? I thought that pets were supposed to have incredible homing instincts. They're supposed to be able to trek hundreds of miles to find their way home, right? So why is it that this cat couldn't even tell the difference between the landing outside of his apartment and the landing outside some one else's apartment? Or. . . behold my cynicism here. . . is that Cricket DID know the difference, but was secretly trying to escape from us and move in with someone else? Either way, I dub today's adventure "the incredibly stupid journey."

Litany of Humility

2007-08-31T13:48:00.000-04:00

Very interesting prayer posted over at Thinklings. I think it's beautiful, in the right context.

I could see this being misunderstood or abused by people who have low self-esteem. But the virtue of humility is something radically different from pathological self-hatred. The point of humility is not to think you are rubbish and everyone else is better than you. (That's a sign of mental illness, being associated with a number of different personality disorders.) The point of humility is to rejoice in other people's triumphs, achievements, and abilities as much as in your own, and to approach your own work in such a way that it doesn't matter whether you receive the approval, respect, and love that other people may get.

I think that humility has much to do with doing the work you are made to do, without worrying about what other people think of it. Surprisingly, then, humility is more akin to self-confidence than it is to low self-esteem, because when you are confident in yourself or in your work, you will not be broken or crushed by external circumstances so much.

The Blog as Commonplace Book

2007-08-12T21:56:00.000-04:00

You may have noticed that I have not been blogging frequently of late. You may have guessed that this had something to do with finishing and defending my dissertation, then moving from the Midwest to an Undisclosed Location. In this, you are partially right.

Moreover, I have contemplated giving up this pseudo-anonymous blog and constructing a new, more personal, less wacky, password-protected blog. You know, the sort of blog that contains fun pictures of and verbal vignettes from my daily life. It'd be the sort of blog in which I'd never make cranky or uncharitable arguments that I'd later regret. And, just so you know, the jury is still out: I might still give up this particular corner of cyberspace.

But I have to admit, there are some things about The Crockery that I like. This post is about one specific aspect that I've been missing sorely: blogging as notation. That's right: blogging as a means of helping the blogger remember something. In my case, the "something" is new recipes. While I haven't been coming up with a large number of new slow-cooker recipes, in recent weeks I did cook up what was probably the best beef stew I've ever made. It was nothing particularly out of the ordinary, just a potato-free variation of the standard beef stew. It contained wine and celery, rice and carrots. It was well seasoned and flavorful. Unfortunately, I don't know with what it was seasoned, because I never wrote down the ingredients. I told myself: "Oh, I'll blog about this recipe later tonight, while I still remember it." Alas, tonight never came. Or rather, it did come, but it did not bring with it the promised recipe, for the simple reason that I never wrote it down.

This means that you, my readers, can never duplicate this wonderful wine-and-rice beef stew. More tragically yet, it also means that I can never duplicate this recipe. I may spend my whole life searching for the perfect beef stew, and never find it. If only I had blogged about it while the memory was still fresh! Or at least started a commonplace book.

Perhaps if I had done so, I would finally know what was in the sugar bowl.

Add in the "Multiple Intelligences" quiz . . .

2007-08-09T13:05:00.000-04:00

. . . and you can see why I considered being a veterinarian but ended up with a Ph.D. in English instead. The INTJ type is "The scientist," but "naturalist" came just after "verbal/linguistic" intelligence.

Still an INTJ

2007-08-09T12:19:00.000-04:00

When I first took the Meyers-Briggs Personality test, I was an INTP. Since then, I've swung over into the "J" section, at least on paper. I've gotten the same results the past couple of times I've taken some variation on the test. Behold!

It's Potter Time!

2007-07-20T10:12:00.001-04:00

Today's the day. What day, you ask? The day dissertations must be officially submitted to the graduate school by those who plan on graduating in August? Well, yes, it is that, but it is also so much more. It is the day Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows will be released!

Technically, tomorrow is the day Harry Potter 7 is going to be released. But as we all know, bookstores start handing out the book at midnight. And, for the first time ever, I will be there at the midnight release party. (No, I will not be in costume. Sorry to disappoint my fans.)

Since this is Potter day, I wanted to take the time to share some last Potter predictions. Here goes:

1) Hagrid will probably die.

Years ago, I read an interview in which Rowling talked about how she had the whole series planned out, all the way to book seven. And she mentioned that there some parts that she knew would be hard to write; some parts that she thought she'd cry writing. My immediate thought was: "She's going to kill off Hagrid!" Other people have shared this prediction. Maybe we're wrong. But I predict that Hagrid will die.

2) Harry will suffer great losses.

Here I can only be vague, because I don't have any strong feelings about what form this loss will take. I can only predict that the ending of the book may be bittersweet, with unexpected and perhaps unnecessary losses.

At various times, I have speculated that his not-quite-girlfriend might die, or that Harry might lose his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. Others have suggested that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley may be among the deceased, and I'm sorry to say that I think this is a good guess.

Personally, I think Harry himself will live. I can, however, see a number of reasons why he might die. The most obvious one is that killing Harry would prevent anyone else from writing sequels. But there are other ways of preventing this.

My pet plan (which I doubt Rowling will use) would be for Harry to somehow lose his magic. In other fantasy fiction, it is possible for a magician to temporarily or permanently have his/her magic taken away. Rowling has never really suggested that this is the case in her Wizarding World, which is why I think she won't go with anything like this direction. But think: if Harry had to give up his magic in order to defeat Voldemort, that would certainly constitute a great sacrifice on his part. (We know, after all, that he is like his mother. What did his mother do? She sacrificed herself for him.) Such an ending would also be a twist: most people wouldn't be expecting it. And it would prevent anyone from writing further adventures of the Boy Who Lived.

3) Goodies and badies will be hard to tell apart.

I've already shared that I think Snape is going to end up being on the side of good. I suggest, though, that we can expect surprises from some other characters as well. People we thought were trustworthy may turn out to be working for the Dark Lord. Other people who seemed staunchly evil-or at least disreputable-will turn out to be fighting on the right side.

4) Goats will be important.

Didja notice the goat in the Hog's Head in The Order of the Phoenix movie? And do you remember that Dumbledore's brother was prosecuted for "practicing improper charms on a goat"? I don't like to think about what constitutes improper charms, but I think the goat is significant. And even if I'm wrong, I think we can expect to see something of Aberforth Dumbledore in the final book.

5) Petunia Dursley may have a moment of redemption.

I don't have any real reason for thinking this. I'd just like to see some good come of the Dursleys. What I'd like even better would be for Harry to save all their lives, and them to actually be grateful. Admittedly, it would also be satisfying to see them all die horribly BECAUSE they don't listen to Harry, but I'd like to think that Rowling will have a better (more charitable) fate for them.

6) However the final volume ends, there will be redemption.

Rowling has indicated in past interviews that her faith (she is a member of the Church of Scotland, IIRC) and the ending of the series are connected. In the past, I thought this would manifest itself in Dumbledore's resurrection. Now I'm not so sure. But I predict that however sad this book may be, it will have a good ending. It's not just that Voldemort will be defeated. Virtue is going to triumph. And (per #3 and #5) we may see redemption in unexpected places.

7) Finally, to look at it cynically, I predict that however the book ends, it HAS to be better than this conclusion!

I'm still waiting to find out what was in the sugar bowl. Lemony/Daniel, how could you do this to us? Curse ye and your postmodernism! You call that an "end"?

"Grave concern for our souls?" Not really

2007-07-20T00:42:00.001-04:00

Occasionally I hear comments from conservative evangelicals along the lines of "I am anxious about the salvation of my Catholic friends, just as they are anxious about my salvation." More recently, and less polemically, Al Mohler wrote (in a much-linked-blog entry) that "The artificial and deadly dangerous game of ecumenical confusion has obscured issues of grave concern for our souls." In contrast, the recent CDF statement on what does and does not constitute a particular church appears to Mohler to be evidence that Benedict XVI "believes that Protestant churches are gravely defective and that our souls are in danger."

Mohler's response to the CDF document was charitable and rational (unlike some other responses), and I don't want to pick on it too much, all mistakes aside. I do, however, want to distinguish between the two claims above:

1) the Catholic Church believes that Protestant churches are gravely defective

2) the Catholic Church believes that Protestants' souls are in danger

It's important to realize that these ARE two separate claims. The first claim is true, though it might demand some qualification about the relationship of "ecclesial communities" to the universal church. The second claim, however, seems to me to be inaccurate, or at least deceptive. Do Catholics believe that the health of the soul is better sustained where all seven sacraments may be found in valid form? Yes. Do Catholics fear for the salvation of individual evangelicals, because of their lack of access to all the sacraments? No, not usually. Not unless you're talking to the RadTrad wing.

Don't believe me? Well, let's look at the work of John Henry Cardinal Newman, perhaps the most important Catholic theologian of the nineteenth century. Long before Vatican II (decades, in fact, before Vatican I), Newman denied the charge that believing the Catholic Church's claim to be the one true church meant believing that the majority of other Christians were lost. On the contrary, he wrote:

. . . the remarks I have been making suggest much of comfort, when we look out into what is called the religious world in all its varieties, whether it be the High Church section, or the Evangelical, whether it be in the Establishment, or in Methodism, or in Dissent, so far as there seems to be real earnestness and invincible prejudice. One cannot but hope that that written Word of God, for which they desire to be jealous . . . is of incalculable blessing to their souls, and may be, through God's grace, the divine instrument of bringing many to contrition and to a happy death who have received no sacrament since they were baptized in their infancy. One cannot hope but that the Anglican Prayer Book, with its Psalter and Catholic prayers, even though these, in the translation, have passed through heretical intellects, may retain so much of its old virtue as to cooperate with divine grace in the instruction and salvation of a large remnant.

[. . . .]

There is but one set of persons, indeed, who inspire the Catholic with special anxiety, as much so as the open sinner, who is not peculiar to any Communion, Catholic or schismatic, and who does not come into the present question. There is one set of persons in whom every Catholic must feel intense interest, about whom he must feel the gravest apprehensions; viz., those who have some rays of light vouchsafed to them as to their heresy or as to their schism, and who seem to be closing their eyes upon it; or those who have actually gained a clear view of the nothingness of their own Communion, and the reality and divinity of the Catholic Church, yet delay to act upon their knowledge. (Anglican Difficulties, Lecture 11)

Notice that this passage does not come from a work with an ecumenical orientation. On the contrary, it's from a polemical work intended to convince Anglican members of the Tractarian Movement that they should become Roman Catholics. This is pro-Catholic propaganda, not some game of ecumenical confusion. Newman's language isn't really conciliatory, either: he uses words like "heretic" and "schismatic" with a freedom that would make most of us whince. Nevertheless, he looked with "interest and pleasure" at the faith of most of his compatriots, even the most anti-Catholic among them, and he hoped to meet them in Heaven.

Newman, as a theologian, did not speak for his church in an authoritative way, of course. Nevertheless, current Catholic teaching on this matter is far more generous than many outsiders -including many of the journalists who reputed on the recent document- seem to realize.

But I wanted to be in RAVENCLAW!

2007-07-13T10:28:00.000-04:00

I'm
a Hufflepuff!

Harry Potter Prediction #2

2007-06-20T11:49:00.001-04:00

Some months ago, I intended to start a series of Harry Potter predictions. I ended up abandoning the plan in part because it seemed that most of the points I wanted to make had already been made, in great detail, by people even more invested in the series that I am. What's the point of reinventing the wheel?

Still, in these final weeks before Book 7 appears, I wanted to take a moment to clarify that I am in the "Snape is good" camp. Other people have posed numerous reasons for their belief that Snape will turn out to be on the side of good rather than evil, but for me it comes down to one thing, really. This is how Hermione puts in Order of the Phoenix:

"Dumbledore trusts him. . . And if we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone." (OoOTP 555)

There were have it, folks. If we can't trust Dumbledore, who CAN we trust?

Moreover, all prior precedent seems to be on the side of Snape as a "good guy." In almost every book, Harry has suspected Snape of some nefarious scheme or another. Harry has been certain that Snape must be evil. Yet, in every book (up until book six), Harry has been wrong. Snape and Harry may be personal enemies, but Snape has always been working on the anti-Voldemort side. Harry may not have learned something from this past experience, but I think that we as readers are supposed to have learned something: Snape is on Dumbledore's side.

(To say that Snape is a "good guy" doesn't mean that he is a pleasant, likeable, or charitable person. He's a jerk; no question there. Being on the "right" side in an epic battle between good and evil doesn't necessarily mean that a person is nice or loveable, unfortunately.)

In the end, I don't know whether Snape will die the hero's death that some Potter fans have predicted. I do think, though, that we are going to discover that his actions in book six are even more complicated than they appeared. Whatever happens in book seven, I think Snape is going to have a central role. And I think it's going to be interesting.

Beckwith on Conversion

2007-05-30T11:29:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, two sectors of American Christianity (the Evangelical world and the Catholic world) were rocked with the news that Baylor philosopher Francis Beckwith had returned to Roman Catholicism. (Note that it is really not correct to refer to Beckwith as a convert, since he was raised Catholic. Technically, he is a revert.) Some of the reactions were good; some were bad. Some Evangelicals called Beckwith an apostate and suggested that he was going to Hell. Some Catholics took the opportunity to brag, pat themselves on the back, and generally behave triumphalistically. (Hint: that's not endearing to your brothers and sisters in Christ!) Edited to add: for more on triumphalism, see this NCR editorial.

Beckwith had already done an interview for the evangelical magazine Christianity Today, as well as discussing his conversion on his blog. Now, he has an interview for the National Catholic Register. Frankly, I feel that this is the most interesting work on his conversion to date, as it goes into much more detail about the issue of justification.

Many blogreaders have been asking Beckwith about justification. His initial statement on his conversion stated:

. . . in January, at the suggestion of a dear friend, I began reading the Early Church Fathers as well as some of the more sophisticated works on justification by Catholic authors. I became convinced that the Early Church is more Catholic than Protestant and that the Catholic view of justification, correctly understood, is biblically and historically defensible. Even though I also believe that the Reformed view is biblically and historically defensible, I think the Catholic view has more explanatory power to account for both all the biblical texts on justification as well as the church’s historical understanding of salvation prior to the Reformation all the way back to the ancient church of the first few centuries.

Many people wondered what he meant by that. For many evangelicals, what he said above seems inconceivable. Others (including myself!) just wanted to know what he'd been reading that changed his thinking. Beckwith promised a future lengthy work-an article or book- on the subject, but many people had questions now.

The NCR interview clarifies some of this. For example, I found these paragraphs very interesting:

Then I read the Council of Trent, which some Protestant friends had suggested I do. What I found was shocking. I found a document that had been nearly universally misrepresented by many Protestants, including some friends.

I do not believe, however, that the misrepresentation is the result of purposeful deception. But rather, it is the result of reading Trent with Protestant assumptions and without a charitable disposition.

For example, Trent talks about the four causes of justification, which correspond somewhat to Aristotle’s four causes. None of these causes is the work of the individual Christian. For, according to Trent, God’s grace does all the work. However, Trent does condemn “faith alone,” but what it means is mere intellectual assent without allowing God’s grace to be manifested in one’s actions and communion with the Church. This is why Trent also condemns justification by works.

I am convinced that the typical “Council of Trent” rant found on anti-Catholic websites is the Protestant equivalent of the secular urban legend that everyone prior to Columbus believed in a flat earth.

I still hope that Beckwith may produce an article in the future focusing specifically on Justification, but the new interview offers a good start.

Beckwith brings with him a very positive take on the possibility of better relationships between Catholics and Evangelicals. (See, for instance, the question: "What can evangelicals and Catholics learn from each other?" in the NCR interview.) Let's hope that he's right!

HT: Jimmy Akin

When is an Apology not an Apology?

2007-05-26T10:53:00.000-04:00

When it's "dextificiation," according to Dr. Rick Brinkman and Dr. Rick Kirschner. Drs. Rick and Rick explain that when people come to them claiming to have a problem with apology, the problem is usually that they are actually "dextifying."

Drs. Rick and Rick define "dextify" (yes, it's a made-up word) as follows:

1) To defend, explain, or justify while claiming to apologize.
2) To hold oneself blameless for a variety of reasons.
3) To have a good excuse for actions that produce mental or emotional distress in others.

When people "dextify," they don't really apologize at all. They may say "sorry," but they immediately add a disclaimer that absolves themselves of guilt. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, but I had a bad day at the office and my car broke down on the way home." "I'm sorry I forgot your birthday, but I had a really important project due." As Brinkman and Kirschner point out, this kind of "apology" is more focused on the person who apologizes than on the feelings or needs of the one receiving the apology. The person who receives the apology receives the message that his or her feelings aren't nearly as important as the needs or emotions of the apologizer. So rather than solving a problem, this kind of apology may lead to more hurt feelings and more distance.

I do this a lot myself. I say, "I'm sorry I said such and such, but. . ." Sometimes the material that comes after the "but" is important. Sometimes it needs to be addressed. When people act under provocation, the provocation may need to be acknowledged and dealt with.

However, what I'm coming to realize is that the material that comes after the "but" does NOT belong in an apology. It should come later, once there has already been reconciliation. The way to apologize is not to say: "I'm sorry that I was rude with you at dinner, but it really hurt me that you were late. The food was getting cold and that's all I could think of." The proper way to apologize is to say: "I'm sorry that I was rude to you at dinner. It was wrong for me to treat you that way. I will try not to let it happen again."

The "being late to dinner" issue can wait for a better time; it does not need to be brought up now. Confusing the process of explanation with the process of apology may result in failure of the recipient to accept the apology. To put it more simply, the recipient may say (as I have said to myself in the past when encountering a dextification) "Where's the apology?"

Decline and Fall

2007-05-18T10:48:00.000-04:00

After years of deliberately not watching television, I have gradually been sucked back into following a few shows with my husband. We started with television shows on DVDs, then somehow progressed to actually watching them as their air. And now I find that I've been pulled into the drama of wondering not just "what will happen next?" but "will anything happen next?" Now, after a long span of near-freedom from the whims of (this branch of) the entertainment marketplace, I find myself worrying about whether the shows we watch will be renewed another year.

I've just learned, for example, that Veronica Mars is not listed on the CW's fall line-up. There have been rumors that the show would not continue in its current format, but this is a bit of a disappointment nonetheless. It's true that the show had gone down-hill. It opened with an excellent first season, but never repeated the depth or quality of that first season. The last few epidoses of this (the third season) have been stand-alone mysteries, which are entertaining in their own way but nothing at all like the tightly plotted narrative arc that drew me into the series. If that's the best they can do, maybe it's time to let the series go.

I won't say much about Lost, the other show I'm worried about. Plenty of bloggers ramble on and on about Lost. I'll just say that I feel that it, like Veronica Mars, had an excellent first season and has never been able to recapture the effect. I almost think that Lost would have been better as a mini-series than as a long-running television show. It needs some closure, people!

What interests me, though, is the contrast between those two shows, with their decline in popularity and quality, and the other show I regularly watch, Supernatural. Whereas we started watching Veronica Mars and Lost on DVD after hearing good things about them, we started watching Supernatural as it aired from the very beginning. I like ghost stories; it's a show about brothers who hunt ghosts, demons, and vampires. It seemed like a good fit in terms of content.

If you had asked me about the show last year, though, I would have said that I followed the series almost in spite of itself. I thought the writing was bad, especially the dialogue. I thought the acting was bad. I didn't like the main characters. I hated Jensen Ackles. I thought the sentimental moments were cheesy, and the comic moments (such as they were) unsuccessful. The only thing it had going for it was the "supernatural" content, and occasional signs of intelligently crafted plotting. Supernatural was my "guilty pleasure" in terms of television. Other graduate students watched Lost and Veronica Mars, and understood the appeal, but I felt that I had to apologize for Supernatural.

Imagine my surprise now, when I compare these three different series, and suspect that Supernatural might outlast Veronica Mars and Lost. Though Supernatural started off rockily, it has really improved. The plotting seems smarter and tighter. I think the plotting has improved, too: time and time again I would say "hey, what about da da da da," only to find that the writers were going to answer my question later that episode, or later that season. The dialogue seems quite a bit better during the second season: some of the witty one-liners are actually FUNNY now. The writers have also developed a deeper "culture," to the show, creating a background community which was lacking in the first season, and hinting at more of a mythos. Perhaps most promising of all, the writers have begun experimenting with comic episodes, in the style of X-Files. (No surprise there: as I understand it, they have always admitted their debt to X-Files.)

The show is just plain getting better: more entertaining, more gripping, and more emotinally engaging. I care much more about the characters now than I did last year, and I want to know what happens next. The season finale, Tulip and I agreed, was just what a season finale SHOULD be: it wrapped up the important plot threads of the last season, providing narrative and emotional closure for the fate of one character in particular, but left open some plot lines to be resolved next season.

So that leaves me with some musings about what really makes for a successful series. Were and Lost and Veronica Mars in some ways actually handicapped by the success of their first seasons? Would they have done better if they had started off with "room to grow"? One might argue that when a show stops growing, it starts declining. And when a show starts declining, fans start watching. In terms of maintaining a fan base, perhaps it's better for a show to start off roughly and improve. Last season, I had doubts about whether I wanted to keep watching Supernatural. I wasn't sure that it was really worth an hour of my time every week. This season, there's no question: I want to keep following the series, in part because I think there's a good chance that's it's going to keep developing. I wish I could say the same thing for Lost and Veronica Mars. Even if they are renewed (the jury is still out on a new version of Veronica Mars), they just might not be worth the time commitment.

Super-Depressing Quote of the Day

2007-05-15T16:57:00.000-04:00

Are you ready for it?

Grad school generally makes you less employable, not more employable. For example, people who get a graduate degree in the humanities would have had a better chance of surviving the Titanic than getting a tenured teaching job.

- from Ten Questions with Penelope Trunk

All depressing quotes of the day aside, this article contains some interesting -if debatable- claims, such as this one:

Question: Is it more important to be competent or likable?

Answer: People would actually rather work with someone who is incompetent and likeable than competent and unlikable. [. . .]

So stop thinking you can skate by on your genius IQ because you can’t. You need emotional intelligence as well. This situation is so pronounced that there are special-education classrooms rife with kids who could read when they were three. Social skills matter as much as intelligence when it comes to long-term success, even for the geniuses.

I emphasized that last sentence because I think that's the sort of thing that really needs to be taught in graduate school (er, even though we apparently aren't supposed to waste our time getting graduate degrees), because -let's face it- we gifted-program people aren't always equally gifted when it comes to social interactions. There are plenty of very gifted people out there wondering why they aren't successful. This may be part of the answer.

- Hat tip to Michael Spencer at Boar's Head Tavern

Surprisingly Good Pot Roast

2007-05-10T18:45:00.000-04:00

I have a confession to make: most of the meals that I make are nothing to shout about. They usually aren't bad, but they usually aren't great, either. When I try a new recipe, the best I can reasonably hope for is that the result is something that's good enough to add to our repertoire of "old stand-bys." The question we ask ourselves about a new dish is not: "Is this incredible, or what?" but "Is this worth having on a regular basis?" I consider the meal a success if the answer is "Yes, it's pretty good." Likewise, when I try a variation on a classic stand-by, I may hope for something that stands above the competition, but I'm satisfied if the result is deemed "good for a change."

Every now and then, however, I come across a surprise. Today's meal was one of those. I've made pot-roast with cream-of-whatever soup countless times. It's never been something to get excited about. . . until today. I can't say that I understand why today's meat was so much better than usual. Maybe it was the cut of meat. (It was one of those marked-down-because-it's-going to-go-bad-bargains.) Maybe it was the wine. Or maybe I really did come up with the perfect blend of seasonings. Whatever the cause, today's roast turned out tender and unexpectedly flavorful. I'm not positive that I can duplicate the results, but I shall nevertheless attempt to record the recipe for posterity.

Ingredients
1 small (1.5 to 2 lb) beef arm roast
1/2 of a medium sized onion, chopped, quartered, or sliced
1 can cream of celery soup
3/4 cup white wine (I used pinot grigio, simply because that's what was on hand)
1 can sliced mushrooms, drained
salt
pepper
celery salt
garlic powder

Directions
1) Prepare your medium-sized oval slow-cooker by spraying with cooking spray.
2) Chop, slice, or quarter onions. (I recommend chopping, but you may prefer larger pieces.) Place onions in bottom of slow cooker.
3) Prepare roast by sprinkling generously on both sides with salt, pepper, celery salt, and garlic powder.
4) Place seasoned roast on top of onions.
5) Pour cream of celery and wine over roast. Top with mushrooms.
6) Cook on HIGH for about 4 hours, or until done. (As always, this may take longer with an older slow-cooker.)

Note: Serve the roast with the sauce on the side so that diners can add the preferred amount. This recipe should produce far more mushroom sauce than will be needed for serving with the meat. Use the additional sauce by pouring over white or brown rice, or over buttered noodles.

Harry Potter Prediction #1

2007-05-04T22:03:00.000-04:00

(WARNING: SPOILER ALERTS. Do NOT read this post if you have not read all six books in the Harry Potter series.)

July 20 is a very important day for me this summer: at my university, it's the deadline for submitting one's dissertation to the graduate school in time for graduation this summer.

But the day after that, July 21, is a day that will go down in history, at least in the personal histories of Potteraphiles. It's the day that the seventh and final volume of the Harry Potter series will appear. (And yes, we've already ordered our copy, thank you very much, although we have not yet figured out how best to share it.)

In preparation for the release of the final Harry Potter book, I've been rereading the series. I've even branched out: no longer content with reading Harry Potter books, I'm now reading Mugglenet speculations about the series. And, in order to savor this time of anticipation all the more, I've decided to start a blog series of my own predictions as to what may happen in Book Seven. I've decided to start with one an issue that's been the subject of much controversy since the publication of Half Blood Prince: the fate of Dumbledore.

*

*

*

My prediction: Dumbledore will return!

When I first scoured the pages of Dumbledoreisnotdead.com, I became convinced that maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore was alive, thanks to Snape's "double-dealing." Like many Potter fans, I want to believe that Snape is good, not evil. I want to think that his apparent murder of Dumbledore was something else; perhaps a pre-arranged escape plan.

Now, since starting to read What Will Happen in Harry Potter 7, I have my doubts. Maybe Dumbledore really is dead. But. . . I still think he's going to return. Why? Because his Patronus is a phoenix. And does a phoenix do? It dies, and rises again from ashes. I don't know how or why Dumbledore will return -maybe it will be in a slightly different form- but I predict that Dumbledore is going to pull a Gandalf/ Obi Wan and come back more powerful than ever. He may reappear only for a brief time, in order to say good-bye and possibly help Harry out in a dark moment. But I think we'll see him again.

If I'm right, it'll be something of a disappointment. I'm sure I'll be happy if I'm right, but I'll also be sad if Rowling plays the "wizard dies only to return" card. The resurrected leader is a powerful myth, but not every story needs a Christ-figure. Certainly not every fantasy needs a Christ-figure Wizard. Say what you will about the strength of archetypes, there gets to be a point at which a cliche is just that.

In a way, then, if Dumbledore truly is dead and he doesn't come back in some form, Rowling will have made (artistically) the right decision. But if she's not going to bring back Dumbledore, why kill him off in the first place? Was it really necessary? Some people have argued that Dumbledore needed to die to allow Harry to act as an adult. That's possible, but it seems a little drastic. Most children do manage to grow up into independent adults without needing to have their parents killed off. If my prediction is wrong, and Dumbledore makes no return appearance a a living being, ghost, spirit, or Patronus, then I'll have to reconsider this issue of whether he needed to die.

In the meantime, I'm sticking to my story: I think Dumbledore will be back in book seven.

Straw-orangalicious Smoothie

2007-04-30T20:13:00.000-04:00

I am not the smoothie maker, nor the smoothie drinker, in our household, but we've both been experimenting with new smoothie recipes ever since I brought home the Taste of Home smoothie issue on one of my shopping trips. (It was there at the checkout line, beckoning. . . one of the few truly useful impulse buys. This $1 Hitchcock DVD was another successful checkout-line purchase, in case you're curious.) This variation on the classic Orange Julius was invented tonight, for the dual purposes of using up the last few strawberries in the fridge and injecting some fruit into my diet. It's pretty good: I doubt it would ever replace the original recipe, but it's a nice variation.

Ingredients:

1 cup fat free milk
1 cup water
1/2 cup Splenda (or sweetener of choice)
6 oz FROZEN orange juice concentrate
3-4 large strawberries, sliced
1 tsp vanilla
8-10 ice cubes, crushed if possible

Directions
1) Prepare strawberries- wash, remove tops, slice. You can try substituting frozen berries, but as I've yet to try that myself, I'm not sure how many to use. Try 1/4 of a cup.

2) Add splenda and non-frozen ingredients.

3) Add frozen orange juice concentrate and ice cubes.

4) Blend.

5) Serve.

This supposedly makes about 4 servings, but you may find that a true smoothaholic can consume most of it on his own.

What is an Interchurch Marriage?

2007-04-21T12:11:00.000-04:00

I'd like to claim that people ask me the question above all the time. However, I don't think anyone has ever asked that question. I suspect this is because for the most part, few people have heard the expression "interchurch marriage" except those who are actually IN interchurch marriages. I also suspect that people who hear the phrase assume that they know what it means, perhaps equating it with the much more common expression "mixed marriage."

However, there's a very specific meaning to the term "interchurch marriage." And that's what today's post is about. It's probably long past time that I addressed the subject, given that the unstated background to many of my posts on Catholic and Protestant unity is the tension (and sometimes hurt or anger) that can result from trying to carve out space for an interchurch marriage in Christian communities that often have never even heard the term. This is not, however, going to be a confessional post. I'm not going to talk about specific problems we have faced. I am, instead, going to talk more generically about what interchurch marriages are, and what they are not.

Let's start with the textbook definition. For my purposes, I'll assume that the textbook is George Kilcourse's Double Belonging: Interchurch Families and Christian Unity, published in 1992. Kilcourse says that an interchurch family is one in which: "the wife and husband each participates in his or her respective church, and to various degrees in one another' s church; and each takes a conscientious and active role in the religious education of his or her children" (1).

Technically, an interchurch marriage does not have be a Protestant-Catholic marriage. It could refer to an Eastern-Orthodox - Roman Catholic marriage, or an Orthodox - Protestant marriage. In theory, it could even refer to a marriage between a Lutheran and a Baptist. In practice, however, the term most commonly ends up being applied to Catholic-Protestant marriages. These marriages pose unique problems, primarily (in my opinion) because the Catholic and Protestant parties share such different ecclesiologies. Because I'm a member of a Catholic-Protestant intermarriage, the points below primarily address those sorts of marriages.

There are a lot of different ways of having an interchurch marriage. But it be more helpful to see, first, what kinds of things don't qualify as interchurch marriages.

1) Marriages in which one spouse "converts" or formally becomes a member of another church are not interchurch marriages.

This seems to me as if it should be a "duh" point. What makes it tricky is that well-meaning friends, family members, and even church leaders may not understand that conversion is not an option for everyone. Those who identify themselves as interchurch couples generally have strongly held beliefs about their churches. They are intellectually and spiritually committed to their own tradition. Converting simply for the sake of marital unity may seem to these couples to be a denial of important religious truths, or it may seem to be a wrenching loss. There are some cases where conversion is an option (and in practice, it is probably the best solution). These cases, in which one partner is genuinely drawn to the other's faith, are not what I mean by "interchurch marriage."

2) Marriages in which one spouse continues to identify with his/her church, but ceases to maintain an active part in that church, are not interchurch marriages.

I have heard stories of couples in which one party, while refusing to actually convert, simply quit attending his or her own church and took an active role in the spouse's church. For example, a Catholic wife might attend Protestant services with her family without formally joining that church, but also without maintaining a sacramental life as a Catholic. Or a Protestant husband might go to mass with his family, rarely or never attending "his" church, but also choosing not to enter the Catholic Church.

3) Marriages in which neither spouse actively practices his or her faith are not interchurch marriages.

Sadly, I have heard of cases (you may have too) where a Catholic and a Protestant marry, and decide that rather than choosing between one church or another, they just won't go to either church. Sometimes this is a deliberate decision, made perhaps out of a desire not to "influence" the children. Other times it may happen gradually as the couple just quits going to church.

4) Marriages in which the couple chooses a compromise church in which to raise their family are not interchurch marriages.

When we married, for example, some people recommended that we both just join an Episcopalian or Lutheran church, as it would somehow be "half-way between" Roman Catholicism and Reformed Christianity. On the surface, this looks like a reasonable solution. However, those who offer this as advice need to realize that expecting a Catholic party to leave the Catholic Church --even for a "compromise" church-- means asking him or her to abandon a core principle of Catholic ecclesiology.

The next point seems to me to be the trickiest and most controversial. If one uses the term "interchurch marriage" as Kilcourse defines it, though, it is an unavoidable conclusion.

5) Marriages in which both spouses are active in their respective churches, but are never involved in each other's churches, are not true interchurch marriages.

Suppose, for example, that I went to my own church every weekend, while also attending Leopoldtulip's church regularly-- but he never attended mine. Suppose my Catholicism remained something private that I had to practice on my own time, but which was not allowed to influence our life as a family. Or suppose, conversely, that Leopoldtulip regularly attended mass with me, but that I was never willing to attend his church. Suppose that he were made to feel like the Protestant outsider in a Catholic household. In either case, we could not be said to have an interchurch marriage. Only if both spouses are willing to participate to some extent in each other's churches can they be said to have an interchurch marriage.

That "to some extent" implies an important qualification, which is that different interchurch couples come up with different solutions as to how to be active in each other's churches. Some will be more or less involved with their spouse's church than others. Some couples attend both a Catholic mass and a Protestant worship service every weekend. (The fact that most Catholic churches offer Saturday evening masses, very early Sunday morning masses, and sometimes Sunday evening masses makes this possible.) For other couples, attending worship together might be more like a once-a-month deal.

Further complications surround the issue of church attendance beyond Sunday worship. Both Catholics and Protestants are fond of pointing out that God deserves more than just an hour on Sunday. Many congregations --both Catholic and Protestant-- assume that committed members will be active in Bible studies, volunteer groups, adult education classes, or Sunday school. (In a Catholic church, participating in such activities is often the only opportunity for "fellowship" with fellow parishioners-- we don't tend to linger around after church socializing the way our evangelical brothers and sisters do.) But participating in such activities becomes far more complicated when one spouse is a member of another church, and does not share the specific viewpoint of the congregation in question. Sunday school and adult education classes are not designed to be ecumenical; they quite reasonably intend to teach a specifically denominational approach to Christian living and thinking. This may mean that a Protestant spouse would feel out-of-place or uncomfortable at a Catholic Bible study or adult education class. Likewise, a Catholic spouse might not be comfortable in a Protestant Sunday School.

Interchurch families may have to make compromises as to how they approach these kinds of events or groups. And different couples are likely to make different compromises, depending both on individual personality and the character of the congregation. The bottom line, then, is that though two different interchurch couples may take very different approaches to involvement in each other's churches, a common factor is that they will try to be involved, at least to some extent. That is what makes it an interchurch marriage.

Grilled Cheese Goes Gourmet!

2007-04-13T14:02:00.000-04:00

Disclaimer: Duty compels me to warn my readers that this is really more of a product endorsement than a recipe, but rest assured, I don't get paid!

I don't know about you, but I have difficulty thinking of lunches that are easy to make but not boring. Years of bringing a sack lunch to elementary school have somehow soured me on most kinds of sandwiches. Left-overs make me go "yech." (Oddly enough, I can eat them for dinner, but they don't seem appetizing at lunch.) My general standby has been meal bars or omelets. I could, in fact, have blogged extensively about my shock at learning that the traditional two-egg French-style omelet has only about ~200 calories. I have always associated eggs with dietary decadence-because of the cholesterol count, not doutb- so it was a surprise to learn that in terms of caloric content, an omelet is not bad. Not until you had the cheese and the ranch dressing, that is.

Today's discovery, though probably not as healthy for you as an omelet (eggs have wonderful vitamins and such, right?), is even more elegant. I present to you: the gourmet grilled cheese sandwich.

Ingredients:
1 teaspoon or thereabouts butter
2 slices whole wheat bread
1-2 slices Sargento's Bistro Melts Portabello Swiss sliced cheese

Directions: Duh. You know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich, right?

But if not. . .

Take a small skillet. Add a dab of real butter. Preheat. Take two slices of bread. Put some cheese in between them. Place on heated skillet. Heat sandwich (turning as needed) until bread is golden brown and cheese is melted. Note to the perpetually busy: DO NOT WALK AWAY AND DO SOMETHING ELSE WHILE SANDWICH IS COOKING. Most skillet foods require a watchful eye to prevent burning. It's okay to multitask in the kitchen, but keep your tasks in the kitchen. Don't go off to check your email or grade papers. You'll be sorry.

There might be additional ingredients one could add to this sandwich; the basic grilled cheese sandwich is capable of expanding in many ways. (For instance, American cheese, tuna, and thinly sliced tomatoes make a good melt.) If you think of any additions that would go particularly well with this cheese, let me know. Rye bread might make an interesting alternative to wheat bread. As it is, the portabello swiss gives this sandwich a unique flavor. Enjoy with a small glass of white wine, if desired. Grilled cheese has never seemed so grown-up!

P.S.: If you're bored rather than hungry at the moment, take this cheese personality quiz.

Snow Day

2007-04-04T10:00:00.000-04:00

If it snows in April, that means I don't have to do any work, right? I can just sit around reading classic children's books. . . at least until it stops snowing.

That's what I'm telling myself today, anyway.

Edward Oakes on the "H" Word

2007-04-03T11:03:00.000-04:00

Those who weren't bored by my recent post on Catholic-Protestant interactions might be interested in this post over at the First Things blog. * What starts off as a call to conservative Catholics to avoid using the word "heresy" as a description of the doctrinal distinctives of their Protestant brethern ends up going into a very interesting discussion of what the Catholic Church lost in position itself in opposition to a misunderstanding of the Lutheran view of Justification. (Check out some very interesting examples of Therese of Lisieux's writings.)

His conclusion?

I do hereby conclude: When the Western Church fissiparated in the sixteen century, the Reformers took a portion of the essential patrimony of the Church with them, and they thereby left both the Roman Church and themselves the poorer for it.

I think what Oakes is alluding to here is the thesis, gaining ground among intelligent Catholics, that post-Reformation Catholicism, in defining itself so firmly against anything that looked Protestant, ended up exaggerating its own position and neglecting aspects of its own theology.
The same thing, of course, happened in the Protestant camps, too, where anything that looked or sounded too Catholic was automatically suspect. ("Celebrate the liturgical calendar? Not in this church! We only do what the Bible says! Now let's have the kids come to the front of the church for the kid talk, which incidentally, is never mandated by Scripture.") Oakes doesn't cover this ground, since he is, after all, addressing his fellow Catholics, but some of the recent blogging discussion on anti-Catholicism have highlighted this tendency.

In any case, I'm sure that we in the Catholic Church can think of plenty of areas in which our self-definitions are based primarily on opposition to an ecclesiastical Other. Sometimes the results are quite painful. Sometimes they're quite confusing, and they can make the work of grass-roots of ecumenism very hard. Sometimes this tendency can even lead people to defend positions that really ought not be defended, as in "My parish doesn't offer a Bible study for adults, but that's okay because evangelicals put too much emphasis on personal study of the Bible anyway. Really the Bible is supposed to read liturgically." Certainly the primary site for encountering the Word of God is in the church, rather than the small-group or the home, but that doesn't exonerate local parishes from the burden of providing opportunities for adult enrichment!

I digress, as usual. And please, don't take offense with my examples. Just go read what Oakes has to say on the subject.

Hat tip: Evangelical Outpost.

*Disclaimer: I hereby distance myself from the political views expressed over at First Things. Though I admire the "ecumenism of the trenches" practiced by the journal and exemplified in the Evangelicals and Catholics Together statements, I worry that the First Things crowd in general is sometimes a little too concerned with only uniting over specific political stances, some of which contradict traditional Catholic social teaching or just war teaching anyway. But that's a blog for another day.

Hail the Conquering Turtle!

2007-03-24T15:27:00.000-04:00

Until today, I don't think I've ever seen a turtle look pleased with itself. I don't think I would have believed such a thing possible. Of course, it may be that it isn't possible; that I am anthropomorphizing; that reptiles are incapable of smugness (which would make them the opposite of housecats, which seem to have difficulty not being smug).

But then, until today, I'd never seen my box turtle climb on top of her hiding log. I'd never even seen her try to do it. There has never been a reason for her to try. The log serves as a place for her to go to escape the cruel vicissitudes of life, such as they are when one's life is spent in a 55 gallon aquarium. Some reptiles may have natural desires to climb and explore, but not this one, so far as I can tell. (In the past, when I took her out to the backyard, it is true that she would run, but she was generally running away from me and seeking a dark place to hide, presumably in the hope that I'd be unable to find her and she could make her escape.)

So I was very surprised to glance over at the aquarium and see Terry the turtle standing on her half-log, looking very pleased with herself. It's impossible to describe exactly the expression on her reptile face, but it seemed something along the lines of "Well, I made it! And the view from up here is just fine!" (In case you're wondering, I did try to take pictures, but the only camera handy was a disposable, and I don't anticipate particularly good snapshots.)

I don't know why Terry decided to climb on top of her log and look around today, after about a dozen years of never showing any interest in climbing up the log. Perhaps she was hungry and was hoping to scout out some food. More likely, she was trying to catch some rays: that happens to be the brightest end of the terrarium today. Or perhaps she was trying to convey some mysterious, ineffable turtle secret, which the world cannot understand. I guess we'll never know.

Spring Break Reading

2007-03-11T17:46:00.000-04:00

It's spring break, and for once, it actually feels like spring in this corner of the Midwest. What a surprise! I'm just waiting for a major windstorm to come through and knock out all the power lines. Something bad has to happen weather-wise-- surely we aren't to be allowed a few carefree sunny days in the middle of March?

In case you're wondering, I am not going anywhere for spring break. I have gotten to the point where I simply laugh at people who get to go somewhere for spring break. Spring break is not for leisure. It is for frantically catching up on work. In my case, it is for finishing up a first draft of the final chapter- the very same chapter I've been working on since November. I've written a lot since then, but it's all been in bits and pieces. Now I'm trying to force those bits and pieces to cohere into a single document. Right now I'm on. . . oh, page 18 or so. I predict that this draft will finish up at about 30-35 pages. That's a bit on the short side for a chapter, but then, it is a first draft.

However, I did decide to treat myself a LITTLE this week. So I went to the public library, looking for some fun, non-academic spring break reading. Some times I browse the fantasy or juvi-fiction sections of the library. This time I ended up in the mystery section. And I came with a copy of . . .

DEATH BY DISSERTATION.

With a name like that, how could I pass it up? Especially when I opened it up and read this paragraph:

I was convinced graduate school was the lowest circle of Hell in the Inferno, but Dante discarded it as too terrifying for his readers. My particular corner of hell was a seminar room half full of dedicated medievalists; and slouching in a stuffy seminar room on a beautiful October afternoon, even for a nonathletic slug like me, was hard work. Especially when I was having to listen to Dan Erikson babble on and on about the absolutely riveting number of horses Charles Martel had had in his army when he defeated the Muslim invaders in Poitiers in A.D. 732. That was a heck of a long way from 1991.

Now, I'm neither a medievalist nor a historian, and I couldn't tell you who Charles Martel was, but I guess I have a nostalgic place in my heart for the days I was in coursework, because that opening paragraph brought back fond memories of being stuck in a classroom trying to hide my annoyance while during someone else's less than interesting pet theory. Ah, coursework, how I miss you! Or is it just that I'm so sick of dissertating that I'd rather read murder mysteries about dissertating? Either way, I think I've sunk to a new graduate student low.

If you have to fight. . . fight fairly

2007-03-09T13:46:00.000-05:00

When Leopoldtulip and I were undergoing pre-marital counseling, one of our multiple advisors told us something along the lines of "It's okay to fight, but make sure you fight fairly." These are good words for any relationship, but perhaps particularly for relations between churches. A series of recent posts on various Protestant blogs regarding Catholic-Protestant animosity calls attention to the ways people have of fighting unfairly when it comes to denominational quarreling. I think there's a lot here that's worth reading, so though my own blogging time is limited these days, I wanted to call attention to a few of the posts in question. If you're curious, start reading here, with this post by Weekend Fisher, who expressed a simple and reasonable request:

I wish that Roman Catholics and Protestants would stop making such unjustified and uncharitable attacks on each other. I consider that we have enough to keep us busy if we stick to discussing actual theological differences, without compounding the problem with personal attacks, unjust charges, or general hostility.

Well, I wish that too. And I'll try to be (wo)man enough not to point fingers at various examples of the kind of uncharitable behavior that I think this post addresses. I will say, though, that the examples provided there are perhaps unequal (as Weekend Fisher recognizes). The Catholic example is a book by a prominent conservative Catholic writer. The Protestant example is a forwarded letter which, it seems, merely repeats Boettnerian nonsense to a new generation. One could draw from this example the impression that Protestant Anti-Catholicism merely stems from the ignorant. In fact, there examples of well-educated Protestant authors who make claims just as uncharitable or rhetorically unfair as those made in the Catholic example. Sadly, uncharitable and illogical attacks on Catholicism are not limited to likes of Dave Hunt and Jack Chick.

If that first post intrigued you, read this response at Dr. Platypus. (Note to readers: I have no idea who "Darrell Pursiful" is but I love the name of his blog.) Pursiful is interested not in the "nastiness" of anti-Catholic rhetoric, but in the silliness of it--what I would probably have called the illogic of it. He gives two concrete examples of "silly" thinking with regard to Catholicism. In a later post and perhaps even more provocative post, Pursiful asks his (Protestant) readers "Why do we cringe?" at Catholic doctrine and practice. Many of the responses in the combox are well worth reading.

So. . . can we all fight fairly? I guess I've become a pessimist on the subject of inter-church relations, because my answer is "no." We can't all get along. There are always going to be stupid, angry, self-absorbed people (on all sides of the issue) who resort to unfair tactics. And there are always going to be people who are more interested in scoring points in a vigorous debate than in carrying out "the ministry of reconciliation." Still, I think this series of posts (and I could have listed others!) suggest that thoughtful Christians CAN recognize that our call to unity requires a commitment to charitable and fair dialog. And that, at least, is good news.

(Hat tip to Bonnie at Intellectuelle).

Come on, reject me already!

2007-02-26T19:49:00.000-05:00

I haven't blogged much about the academic job search because, well, it sucks. But today I got a rejection letter in the mail, and it inspired me to share one of the surprising things about the job market: at some point, you actually look forward to getting a rejection letter or email, because then you know for certain that you can extinguish all hope. It may sound counter-intuitive, but I wish more schools would reject me. Because, you see, they already HAVE picked their candidate, in most cases, and odds are good that they've already made their offers. I just wish that they'd have the courtesy to inform me about it.

True, there are some schools that conduct searches in the spring- some places have deadlines in January, February, or March, so I'm still sending out the odd application here and there. I'm not talking about those schools. THOSE schools can feel free to refrain from sending me a rejection letter. In fact, they're quite welcome to call me and set up a phone interview or campus visit.

No, I'm talking about schools that didn't interview me at MLA, but who didn't bother actually informing me that they weren't going to interview me. Or schools which didn't conduct interviews at all. Or schools with which I had some contact, but then zilch. I can pretty much assume that they are no longer interested. . . but I'd like to be certain. I'd like to get a nice little rejection letter full of empty praise about my "interesting" dissertation or something, so that I can mark another school off on my "sent" list. Come on, people, help me keep the list accurate! Reject me already!

Signs and Wipers

2007-02-21T11:05:00.000-05:00

The first thing you need to know in order to understand this entry is that my car is better than your car. I can say this with confidence, even though my car is about six years old now and has dents in it (other people hit ME! I don't hit them! Scout's honor!), because it is certifiably cool. It's a bright blue Ford Escort, and I love it for many reasons, not least of which is the fact that it actually is built to fit people as short as I am. A small car for a small person. Whodda thunk it?

However, my car has a few flaws. One is that it shivers in the northern-midwestern winters. I do not know why. It has done that since about the first winter here. I think it just doesn't like the winter weather. And who can blame it? We don't like the winters here, either.

The other, more troubling problem is that when the car was a mere 2 1/2 years old, the windshield wipers stopped working. To be more precise, they only worked on the "high" setting. They did not move at all on the "low" setting. This meant that while they did a great job of clearing the windshield during a downpour, they weren't so good at dealing with a light drizzle. I meant to get the wipers fixed while the car was still under warranty, but somehow I never got around to it. At best, I would tell auto repair shops vague clues, such as "The wipers aren't working right. Can you check them?" The result would be that I'd get new wiper blades, but the wipers still wouldn't work on low. So, in fine Teresine tradition, I decided to just live with the problem- after all, they DID work on high.

Yesterday, we were driving back from IHOP (National Pancake Day, people! Free pancakes!) and, for some reason, I turned on the windshield wipers. And -you guessed it- they worked. I mean, they worked on low. They worked on high. They even worked on intermittent. Whatever their problem had been, it was gone, after three years, for no reason.

Being the good interpreters of texts that we are, Leopoldtulip and I tried to create some meaning out of this random but momentous occurrence. You see, we've been trying to make a fairly important career decision, and so we were grasping for signs. "Well, those wipers haven't worked in three years," I reasoned, "and they started working TODAY of all days. God must be trying to tell us something!"

Although neither of us seriously thought that the Unmoving Mover in charge of the universe was trying to communicate to us through fixing my car after three years of wiper malfunction, we did have some fun trying to generate meaning from this event. The thing is, we generated totally different meanings. To Leopoldtulip, the significant fact was that the wipers were working on BOTH settings. That is, they had dual action- emphasis on the dual. Likewise, we too must be a dual action couple. [Insert correction: Although I had gotten the first part of this right, I had misremembered the "application" of Tulip's wiper lesson. He thought it meant that if we made X decision, we would BOTH end up with work opportunities. What follows is my alternative reading of the indeterminate text.] We must settle for nothing less than both of us landing tenure-track positions- for lo, the wipers have spoken.

I, however, was more interested in the recovery of past ability. To me, the fact that the low setting was now working after three years of malfunction was like, well, like a resurrection. Or a restoration. It was a return to an original ideal state. Clearly, that meant that we should return to our original plans. But which original plans? The ones I had when I came to graduate school? The ones we had before we found out what the job market was really like? The ones I had BEFORE graduate school? Originally, you see, I was going to be a veterinarian. Either that or live on a horse ranch and write novels. Perhaps the wipers were telling me to return to that original dream. The problem is that if I had followed either of those paths, I wouldn't have gotten this car at all. This car existed in my life solely for the purpose of providing me with a vehicle that could get me through graduate school. Ergo, if there was a sign to be found at all, it must mean that I should return to my original zeal as a scholar, and not allow myself to be lured off the strait and narrow path by (cough) the denim jumpers of lassitude.

There is a certain sad irony for me in composing this post, because now that the sobering season of Lent has replaced the all-too brief joy of carnival, I can see the error in all our interpretations. In retrospect, it indubitably seems clear to you, as it does to me, that God was probably telling us to forget our graduate student obligations for the week and fly to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Alas, I didn't realize that in time to act. Let this be a lesson to us all: when God tells you to party, PARTY NOW. Don't wait. Your happiness may depend on it.

Everyone's Got Something to Say

2007-02-11T16:13:00.000-05:00

I've been using Splenda in my coffee instead of sugar for a few years now. I thought I had a good relationship with Splenda. I added it to the coffee cup; it sweetened my beverage; I avoided a few calories a day. Not a bad deal.

Lately, however, the deal's gone sour. What's wrong? Well, Splenda started talking back to me. . . and unlike those clever Taco Bell packets, the Splenda packets are poor conversationalists. Here's what they have to say:

"You, me, and the sweet life forever. How's that for a little sweet talk?"

My response: That's wrong! I shouldn't be having an affair with my artificial sweetener! I'm a married woman!

"The sweet life is measured in sprinkles and smiles."

My response: That's not bad as far as the Splenda packet sayings go, but it's kind of inane.

"Good morning! Nice to sweet you."

My response: Retch! I hate puns, particularly in the morning. I'm not sure if even that first cup of coffee of the day is worth a sweetener packet that likes plays-on-words.

So Splenda execs, if you're reading this, I say unto you: it is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt. I liked it better when my sugar substitute came to me in humility, without delusions of wittiness. You can quote me on that, but please don't put my words on the splenda packet.

Teresa's Best Chili-From-A-Can

2007-01-28T17:48:00.000-05:00

I'm here to report back on tonight's bean-featuring dish. I wanted to post this recipe even though it differs only marginally from some of my past chili attempts, because for whatever reason, this turned out to be the best chili I've ever made (possibly excepting my lentil chili, which has such a different flavor that it really can't be compared). I'd like to think that the improvement was due to my innovative use of beef broth, but I suspect that using a pre-packaged chili mix for seasonings had more to do with it. Guess I'll have to eat my words about the uselessness of such things.

Ingredients
1 lb. ground beef
1 very small onion, or about 1/4 to 1/3 very large onion, diced (sorry, I'm bad at estimating amounts of onion!)
2 cans diced tomatoes or petite diced tomatoes
1 can chili beans
1 can other beans of your choice (I used black-eyed peas, but any beans of a contrasting color would work)
1 6 oz. can tomato paste
1 can beef broth
1 can no-salt-added sweet corn
1 packet of mild chili flavorings
1- 2 tablespoons sliced jalapenos (sure, take 'em from a jar if you want. This is chili-from-a can, after all)
dash of salt, if desired
additional liquid, if desired

Directions
1. Spray the liner of a large crockpot with cooking spray of choice.
2. Place the onion and ground beef in a skillet and brown, turning frequently. While the beef is browning, do step 3.
3. Pour the canned beans into a colander and rinse to get rid of that nasty bean sludge. Pour beans into slow cooker.
4. When the beef is browned, pour it into the colander and rinse to get rid of fat. Or, if you think that's weird, use your preferred method of removing excess fat.
5. Add all the other ingredients, except salt (see below). Use your judgment about the amount of liquid: between the beef broth and the canned veggies, the chili may be "soupy" enough. I added a small amount of water just to be safe.
6. Stir ingredients thoroughly. Cover and cook on high for 3 1/2- 4 1/2 hours, depending on your slow cooker. You may want to wait till the end to decide whether it needs salt. I added just a quick sprinkle of it at the end of cooking.

Serving suggestions
To eat this chili the Teresa way, add table cream, strips of velveeta (yeah, I know, it's yucky, but when there's eight inches of snow outside, you make do with what's in the house), and crumpled up tortilla chips. To eat the chili the Leopold Tulip way, skip the velveeta but add hearty spoonfuls of salsa verde in addition to corn chips and table cream. Either way, serve Texas toast on the side.

This is a moderately hot chili, by my standards. (Yes, the chili packet I used was a mild one, but the addition of jalapenos ups the ante.) If you know that all consumers of your chili prefer a spicy chili, go ahead and by a hotter seasoning packet, or add more jalapenos. My own preference is to go for a mild chili and add abundant garnishes, such as hot sauce, or, in this case, the salsa verde.

Beans, Beans, Beans

2007-01-28T13:45:00.000-05:00

I've been making a lot of bean dishes in my slow cooker lately. And when I say "a lot," I mean a LOT. As in, "lotsa beans, lotsa beans, lotsa beans." As in, the freezer is full of frozen bean soup of various kinds, and has been for weeks. As in, my husband is going to freak when he wakes up from his peaceful Sunday nap and discovers that there's ANOTHER huge pot of beans bubbling away- a pot so large we can never hope to finish it in one meal, which will mean storing more food in the already-full freezer. (I'm sorry, dear!)

Today's dish is chili, and I have an excuse for making it. I was initially going to make a chili cheese burrito for myself during lunch, using some slices of velveeta and a can of "Mexican style" chili beans. (Yes, you and I know that chili is really an American food. Apparently the people who label the beans don't know.) Then at some point it occurred to me that rather than hoard all the chili-cheesy goodness to myself, I could make chili cheese burritos for supper. It was a happy thought, given that I previously had had no clue what to make. So I thawed some hamburger and started gathering ingredients, and at some point I started noticing that we had all the ingredients necessary for a full pot of chili. Heck, we even had a packet of chili seasonings, which I don't even normally use. (I can make my own mix of cumin, cayenne, and/or chili powder, thank you very much.)

I suppose I could have resisted, but why? There's practically a blizzard outside. We'll be snowed in for the whole evening. (It's not as if we had anywhere to go, but that's beside the point.) What better way to mock the bitter cold outside than by eating a nice hot bowl of burn-your-tongue chili? What better way to use up that can of tomato paste that's probably been there for months? How better to start making inroads in the collection of various brands of canned corn? What was I saving that chili packet for, anyway? The very fact that I can't remember surely indicates that it's long past time to use it for something else. So, I comfort myself with the fact that I've done my part in emptying the pantry, if not the freezer.

While the chili cooks, I thought I'd mention some of the reasons for my new-found love of beans. You see, I didn't always like beans. A year or two ago, if you had asked me what I thought about beans, I would have said that I didn't like them. I objected to their mushy texture. I objected to their flavorless taste. And I certainly didn't know any good ways of preparing them. All that has changed, in part because I've learned to appreciate the following things about beans.

1) They're cheap. Really cheap. You can get bags of dry beans for, what, 50 cents? And a single bag of beans makes about a million servings.

2) They can help you use up leftovers. Take some beans, add left-over ham, chop up an onion, add seasonings, and voila- soup!

3) Many bean dishes freeze well. (How fortunate it is that chili is among that number!) In our case this means that, since most bean-soup recipes make far too much food for two people, a single pot can provide two or three meals for the future. Let tell you, it's nice having frozen homemade meals to fall back on. All you have to do is thaw the beans, heat 'em in a pot, and heat up some bread or cornbread. Hey presto- a nearly instant meal that will probably taste better than something from a can. (I say probably because these bean soups don't always turn out QUITE as I plan.)

4) Beans are pretty healthy for you. A person of my age and exercise level is supposed to try to eat 3 cups of beans a week, according to the USDA food pyramid. And the nice thing about beans is that they can count as either a "meat" substitute or a vegetable. Either way, they're good for you. This was actually the single biggest factor in my starting to eat beans, believe it or not. I don't normally go to great lengths --or indeed, any lengths--to eat a balanced diet, but when confronted by the food pyramid, I couldn't help but notice that we were eating far less than three cups of beans a week. So I opened the door to a previous legume-non-grata, and look how far I've come!

5) Did I mention how cheap they are? It's not that we're poor; it's just that saving money in one section of the grocery store means more money for the not-so-cheap things like lamb and gourmet pesto. (Not that I would necessarily combine the two. Though I might.)

6) Dry beans store well. Buy 'em in a bag, sling 'em in the back of the cupboard, and forget about them until they're needed. No need to worry about using them up quickly after purchase. Cookbooks recommend tossing them after two years- which is a pretty impressive lifespan, in my opinion.

7) I'm sure there's another reason, but I can't think of it. Anyway, who needs a reason? If for no other reason, I eat beans because they're there. Somehow, we always seem to have beans on hand for a nice chili of one kind or another. And in my newly bean-enlightened state, that's the way I like it.

Secret Librarian Conspiracy Revealed!

2007-01-15T21:11:00.000-05:00

If you've ever used a university library, you're probably familiar with the Library of Congress classification system. It's not like the friendly Dewey decimal system with which you became familiar in elementary school. Oh, no. It's quite different. For one thing, it uses letters to organize subject. You might think that these letters were abbreviations related to the content of the books in question, but if so, you'd be wrong. I'm afraid it's just not that simple. You won't find books on China under "C" or "Ch." or even "Chi." They'd be under some other category altogether, one randomly assigned.

Or is it random? Is there some deviant, atheistic mastermind secretly behind the system? Surely there must be, because why else would Bible commentaries be categorized under the initials BS ? (I'm using white lettering so that they won't know that I'm on to them!)
Think about it!

I Am Latin, Hear Me Roar!

2007-01-08T11:51:00.000-05:00

Note: I don't actually know Latin, I am Latin. (Mulder would be so proud!)

What obsolete skill are you?

You are 'Latin'. Even among obsolete skills, the tongue of the ancient Romans is a real anachronism. With its profusion of different cases and conjugations, Latin is more than a language; it is a whole different way of thinking about things.You are very classy, meaning that you value the classics. You value old things, good things which have stood the test of time. You value things which have been proven worthy and valuable, even if no one else these days sees them that way. Your life is touched by a certain 'pietas', or piety; perhaps you are even a Stoic. Nonetheless, you have a certain fascination with the grotesque and the profane. Also, the modern world rejects you like a bad transplant. Your problem is that Latin has been obsolete for a long time.
Take this http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=20&url=http://www.quizilla.com/makeaquiz.php">Make A Quiz More Quizzes Grab Code

Now Taking Bets. . .

2007-01-06T16:12:00.000-05:00

. . . as to how long I'll manage to keep up this year's Bible reading program. In the past, I've sometimes read through the Bible in a year, using either an out-of-print Tyndale House NRSV or this Bible. The latter Bible, published by Our Sunday Visitor, seemed ideal until it fell apart. Alas, I had to round file it. (This made a convenient excuse for never having finished it.)

This year I'm not doing a "Bible in a year" program. Instead, I subscribed to the Fellowship of St. James' Daily Devotional Guide. This is, intriguingly, not a book but a little journal which contains prayers, commentary, and a list of scriptures to read for given days. (You have to supply your own Bible!) As one might expect from the publishers of Touchstone, the guide follows the liturgical year, the selected readings being loosely based on the lectionary from the Book of Common Prayer. What makes it unique is that the Collect for each week is drawn from a wide range of liturgical traditions.

My first impressions about the Daily Devotional Guide are as follows:

1) That's a lot of Bible! The guide is advertised as a being a manageable two year program, but if you read the fine print, you'll discover that in the course of two years, you'll actually have read the New Testament twice.

2) That's a lot of Psalms! The guide is designed for morning and evening prayer, which means there are morning and evening psalms assigned for each day. You might think that this means that you read two psalms a day. And sometimes, it does mean that. But smaller psalms are assigned in groups of two or three, which means that on some days you could end up reading four or five psalms.

3) Reading the KJV out loud is HARD! Technically, this is not the fault of the Fellowship of St. James. As I mentioned above, you have to supply your own Bible. It just happened that the only small, conveniently-bound travel Bible I have is a King James Bible. So that's what we started with when we started reading the Bible on January 1st, and for some reason, we've kept doing it. (Perhaps because this particular Bible is a good size for leaving at a bedside.) And here's the curious thing: I'm pretty sure I've read most of the KJV in the past. I thought I was familiar with the style. Yet, somehow, I had no idea just how weird the language was until I began to read it out loud. Sentences that would make sense when read silently are revealed in their full syntactical strangeness when one has to pronounce them. Try it for yourself sometime.

4) One year or two, it's still hard to remember to make time for daily devotions. It helps that LeopoldTulip is doing the reading with me, so that there's a double chance that one of us will remember and say "Hey, we need to read the Bible!" Still, it's the sort of task that gets put off until we're ready for bed and exhausted. (Could that be the real reason why I have so much trouble reading the day's text correctly?) I predict that our perfect track record will be spotted with missed days by, say, February. Let's start the pool now!

Rand vs. Capra

2006-12-20T23:16:00.000-05:00

I don't know what possessed Joe Carter to compare George Bailey (from It's a Wonderful Life) to Ayn Rand's Howard Roark, but the results are interesting. Go see for yourself.

Part of me would like to ramble about the latent Christianity in It's a Wonderful Life, and about how Christianity is communal rather than hyperindividualistic, and that there might be some level on which Americans still recognize the good of community and are drawn to it. But it's late, and I have to pack for a trip, and I've never read anything by Ayn Rand anything, so I'll just make two quick points about why we think of George Bailey as an Everyman even though most people aren't like him. Then I'll call it a year.

First, I think part of the reason Americans see George Bailey as "everyman" is simply that the film is about a life that is good, though full of failures and dreams never achieved. That's what most of us experience. We don't get to live our dreams. One of my friends expressed this well when she described how frustrating she found the task of buying graduation cards. Most of them were cheezy, sentimental, over the top. Worse was that, in her opinion, many of the cards carried lies: "You can do whatever you want to do! You can be whatever you want to be!" "Follow your heart and you can achieve your dreams!" This simply isn't true. We can't all be the people we want to be, and we can't all do the things we want to do- just ask any would-be author, actor, or artist who now works a nine-to-five job. And yet, for most of us, life goes on even after we learn that our childhood dream of being an astronaut or owning a horse ranch is not going to come true. What's more, life is still good even though our talents are squandered and our ambitions are crushed. I think most viewers "get" that from It's a Wonderful Life, even if they don't get why Bailey's life is so wonderful.

But more importantly, the reason people see George Bailey as Everyman is that he was played by James Stewart. As a successful actor, Stewart was hardly Everyman in real life- but he sure looked like it on the screen. It's not "George Bailey" we resonate towards- it's Stewart's version of George Bailey. There was something about his acting that radiated homey normality, trustability, and a particularly American style of innocence-as-goodness. If you don't believe me, rent Harvey over the holidays and see.

Wisdom from Peter, Part Two

2006-12-05T10:40:00.000-05:00

In a previous post, I argued that 1 Peter 3:15-16 is frequently used to support a number of situations outside of its original context, particularly with regard to apologetics. In general, I wasn't trying to make claims about what apologetics practices are appropriate and which ones aren't. Rather, I was simply trying to indicate some situations for which people might, in my opinion, incorrectly cite 1 Peter 3:15-16 as support. You may very well have wondered something like "so what? Why does this matter?" After all, we can and do sometimes apply Biblical passages to situations outside of their original context. In fact, we have to do so if we are to use the Bible as a guide for our lives.

Well, in this entry, I hope to show why it matters. It matters because what 1 Peter 3:15-16 actually entails is something which may be much harder than what we think it is. (Credit goes to Leopoldtulip for some of these insights.)

Let's start in what might seem to be an odd place: 1 Peter 2:9-17:

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, that you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.
10: Once you were no people but now you are God's people; once you had not received mercy but now you have received mercy. 11: Beloved, I beseech you as aliens and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh that wage war against your soul. 12: Maintain good conduct among the Gentiles, so that in case they speak against you as wrongdoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation. 13: Be subject for the Lord's sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, 14: or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to praise those who do right. 15: For it is God's will that by doing right you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish men. 16: Live as free men, yet without using your freedom as a pretext for evil; but live as servants of God.
17: Honor all men. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor. (RSV)

This passage is aimed at the holy people of God, who are living in the midst of an unholy, pagan society. Peter's intent here is to advise his audience how to behave in relation to a sometimes hostile non-Christian culture. Keeping that in mind, let's look at those highlighted verses. They enjoin good conduct among the Gentiles as a means of silencing ignorant gossip (v.15) about Christianity. Volumes could be written about that, especially in the wake of various clerical scandals, but what's more to the point today is that this chapter argues that we are to behave rightly among non-Christians so that they will see our good behavior and give glory to God.

Now let's move on to verses 19-21:

19: For one is approved if, mindful of God, he endures pain while suffering unjustly. 20: For what credit is it, if when you do wrong and are beaten for it you take it patiently? But if when you do right and suffer for it you take it patiently, you have God's approval. 21: For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.

These verses connect our unjust suffering to Christ's redemptive suffering. Peter will go on to briefly state the message of the Atonement, that Christ's suffering and death has won healing and life for us. Here, though, he is advising his audience to patiently endure unjust suffering, while clearly distinguishing unjust suffering from just suffering. Servants earn no "credit" for suffering beatings when they have disobeyed their masters, but if they are punished for doing rightly, their suffering earns God's approval, inasmuch as Christians are called to suffer in imitation of Christ.

This material on servants (or, in some translations, "slaves") is part of a houshold code which is continued in chapter 3, which describes right behavior of husbands and wives. Furthermore, starting back in 1 Peter 2:9, can be seen as a continued discussion of how Christians are to relate to the surrounding non-Christian culture. This is apparent even in the section concerning husband and wives, where Peter states:

Likewise you wives, be submissive to your husbands, so that some, though they do not obey the word, may be won without a word by the behavior of their wives, when they see your reverent and chaste behavior. (1 Peter 3:1-2)

While Peter may be more generally interested in imparting wisdom about relationships, even here he is particularly concerned with relationships between believers and unbelievers. Wives may serve as evangelists to their husbands without speaking a word, if their behavior is right. In other words, right behavior means more than just a "credit" to us, though it certainly does include that. Right behavior is also a means of witnessing or evangelizing. It may even be the case that witnessing through behavior rather than speech is the preferred method of evangelization, at least between husbands and wives.

From this household code section, the chapter broadens out to describe a wider range of relationships:

Finally, all of you, have unity of spirit, sympathy, love of the brethren, a tender heart and a humble mind. 9: Do not return evil for evil or reviling for reviling; but on the contrary bless, for to this you have been called, that you may obtain a blessing. 10: For "He that would love life and see good days, let him keep his tongue from evil and his lips from speaking guile; 11: let him turn away from evil and do right; let him seek peace and pursue it. 12: For the eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayer. But the face of the Lord is against those that do evil." 13: Now who is there to harm you if you are zealous for what is right? 14: But even if you do suffer for righteousness' sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, 15: but in your hearts reverence Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to make a defense to any one who calls you to account for the hope that is in you, yet do it with gentleness and reverence; 16: and keep your conscience clear, so that, when you are abused, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame. 17: For it is better to suffer for doing right, if that should be God's will, than for doing wrong. 18: For Christ also died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit . . . .

Note that I've highlighted those famous "apologetics" verses. But look at where they occur. What's Peter talking about? Once again, he's talking about enduring unjust suffering. At a time when Christians faced wide-spread prejudice and dislike, if not official government persecution, Peter tells his audience not to be afraid. In other words, Peter is addressing a situation in which Christians are suffering unjustly for their faith. The Christians are, however, filled with hope rather than fear. Because they reverence Christ as Lord, they aren't troubled. In fact, they are so full of hope that other people notice this, and ask them about it, thus creating a chance for the Christians to share their "reasons," that is, their reverencing of Christ as Lord. And the mention of "hope" is followed up by yet another injunction to behave rightly, which again leads into theological discussion about the Atonement and salvation.

Peter seems to be a little obsessed with this issue of suffering for doing right versus suffering for doing wrong, doesn't he? That's the heart of this extended passage. The message is that we are to behave well, even when we are being punished unjustly. We are to avoid fear and troubled minds and hearts by reverencing God. And if we endure unjust suffering with great hope, other people will notice.

It's that "other people will notice" part that amazes me. I don't know about you, but I find that I have a hard time being hopeful in times of suffering at all, let alone being so hopeful that other people will notice. And yet, it is in that context that are we are supposed to evangelize. We are to be such good citiziens that our behavior is above approach, and we are to be so hopeful that other people notice. These two injunctions are not in addition to our work as apologists or evangelists. They are conditions of our work as apologists or evangelists. If we follow the model Peter offers, we will not go around explaining the Christian faith to unbelievers until we are first so good at living it that they notice and ask us about it. And we are supposed to be such hope-filled people that other people will wonder about the source of our hope.

This does not, of course, mean that we have to be perfect citizens and perfect Chrisitans before we can answer non-believers' questions about Christianity. If it meant that, there'd be no room for Christian apologetics, because no one would be good enough to get past that first step. But, to me at least, this does suggest that the frequent impulse of converts and reverts to leap immediately into apologetics (because they, rightly, want to share the wonderful thing they've found with everyone else) may be misguided. If we follow the Petrine model, we will first get our own houses in order, then wait for other people to notice how different we are and open a conversation about why.

There are, of course, times when other people will engage us in conversation about our religion for other reasons. And of course, we do then want to be ready to give reasons for our faith. I'm not saying that our patient endurance of suffering is the only reason people will ever have for discussing religous with us, and I'm pretty sure that's not what Peter is saying, either. But consider the practical implications of this model for those who wish to share their faith. Take the example of Jill Catholic, who is on fire about her faith and wants everyone to know about it. At present, her tactic may be to bring religion up whenever possible when talking to her coworkers, friends, or family. In doing so, she may run the risk of alienating, offending, or discomforting people who are not yet ready to talk about religion, or who are simply not interested. The Petrine model suggests that instead, she should concentrate on embodying the Catholic life so well that her friends, co-workers, and family members actually become curious about it and invite conversation.

"But," says Jill Catholic, "How am I supposed to evangelize if I don't ever bring up religion? You're making this too hard. You're too worried about being polite, and not worried enough about spreading the truth of Catholic faith."

Well, that's possible. But it's also possible that the reason people don't ask Jill about her religion is that she does not make it look attractive enough! If she's following the Petrine model, she should be demonstrating patience and hope in the midst of suffering. Does she do that? When she is sick, does she demonstrate patience? When things go badly at work, does she complain, grumble, and curse in the same way that her co-workers do? When life gets difficult and confusing, does she demonstrate hope and trust in God? Does she model good citizenship? Does she honor all men, including the people she doesn't like? Or is she rude, critical, or disrespectful of people she doesn't like? Does she, in short, live differently because she is Catholic? If not, how could she reasonably expect people to be interested in Catholicism?

This is a hard teaching, isn't it? I certainly cannot claim that I follow it very well. I can't claim that I live differently from my non-Christian or non-Catholic colleagues. But I really believe that this is how God wants us to spread the good news: not through obnoxious, in-your-face, argumentative proselytism, but through a noticeable change in behavior. If we live as Peter advises, people should want to know our "secret." And that's when our arguments in favor of Christianity come into play.

Wisdom from Peter, Part One

2006-12-05T10:27:00.000-05:00

I'm currently reading Mark Brumley's How NOT to Share Your Faith: The Seven Deadly Sins of Catholic Apologetics and Evangelization, which was recommended to me by my sister. I'd wholeheartedly endorse this book for anyone who is engaged in apologetics, especially internet apologetics. I think if you cruise the blogosphere or message boards long enough, you'll find examples of each of the deadly sins.

But that's not what I'm going to talk about today. I've already done some grumbling about the state of Catholic apologetics in general in this blog, and I won't repeat it. Rather, I want to talk about a particular Biblical text which is frequently misused by Christians of all stripes: 1 Peter 3:15-16. Brumley talked about it briefly in the chapter on "Contentiousness," but there's a good deal more to be said about these verses. The passage reads:

Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope,
but do it with gentleness and reverence, keeping your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who defame your good conduct in Christ may themselves be put to shame.

These are the "apologetics" verses of the New Testament. They are frequently used as a justification for the work of apologetics. But they are, I'd argue, frequently either misapplied or taken out of context, or both. I'd like to make several points about them.

1. First of all, as Brumley notes, people who make these verses their motto frequently ignore the second half, the "do it with gentleness and reverence" part. Again, I could point you to many examples of what Brumley calls the sin of "contentiousness," both in Catholic apologetics and Protestant apologetics. But I won't. Suffice it to say that too many would-be apologists leave off the "gentleness and reverence."

2. A second sometimes missed point is that this verse refers to Christian's response to people who ask for a reason about "the hope that is in you." There are other places in the New Testament which advocate being ready to preach the Good News in season or out of season. That's not what this verse is about. This verse is not, therefore, an instruction to Joe Catholic to bring up religion in the middle of a conversation about baseball, or to insert an explanation of the Incarnation in the middle of a holiday party at the expense of making non-Christian co-workers uncomfortable. This verse doesn't, of course, say that such behavior is wrong- but it certainly isn't endorsing it. It is not a justification for battering your friends, coworkers, or family members with the Truth at every opportunity. Rather, it is an instruction as to how you are to answer people when they ask you about your faith. If your friends, family members, co-workers or archenemies aren't the ones who initiated the conversation about religion, then you're dealing with a situation not covered by these "apologetics verses."

3. My third point comes in two parts. One of these is a pitfall of Catholic apologists; the other may be more common among evangelical or fundamental Protestants. But the basic point here is that these verses refer to our conduct in relation to non-Christians. They are not intended to instruct us on our behavior with regard to other Christians. There may be indirect applications possible here, but these verses do not directly apply to encounters between two Christians. Please, read 1 Peter 2:11-25 and 2:1-17 if you don't believe me. As I hope to demonstrate in the second half of this series, this passage is one dealing with the Christian response to persecution. It's part of an instruction on how Christians are to behave rightly in relation to a non-Christian world, at every level of society. Though 1 Peter contains some instructions on how Christians are to relate to each other, these verses are about right behavior in relation to a presumably pagan population.

There are two implications I want to draw from this point.

A.) These verses do not provide a justification for apologetics aimed at other Christians. As Brumley points out, one of the major "sins" of Catholic apologetics is that it tends to be aimed not at the non-Christian population, but at non-Catholic Christians, particularly Evangelical and Fundamentalist Protestants. Rather than using their skill to prove to agnostics, atheists, or nominal Christians that God is both true and important, most Catholic apologetics spend their time trying to show Baptists that they ought to become Catholic. It is true, as Brumley says, that if we believe our Church to contain the fullness of grace and truth, we will want other Christians to find that fullness of grace and truth within the barque of Peter. You'll get no disagreement from me there. I do truly believe that the Christian life as it is meant to be lived can only be found in the Catholic and Orthodox Churches. But over the last few years, I've come to agree with Brumley that it is really a waste of our energy to concentrate our "fire" on those who ought to be our allies.

Now, we do need a solid Catholic apologetics which is aimed at Protestant objections to Catholicisim. But I think that we need this, first and foremost, not for Protestants, but for Catholics. We need it for all the uneducated Catholics whose dear Evangelical brethren will invite them to the megachurch for worship. We need them for all those Catholics who are going to be told that they worship Mary, that they don't believe in the grace of God, that they are going to Hell unless they are born again. There are good and Scriptural answers to Protestant objections to Catholicism, and we Catholics need to know them, for our own good. We need to know them, too, for the good of those Christians who don't have the fullness of grace and truth. When we are challenged to give a defense for our Catholic distinctives, we need to be prepared to give it with charity, honesty, and gentleness.

But if we think that 1 Peter 3:15-16 is a command to Catholics to go out and proselytize Christians who are already in relationship with Christ and His Church (however imperfect that relationship is), we are mistaken. This is an instruction for dealing with the pagan world. Proselytize when appropriate, but don't pretend that this passage is talking about that kind of work. It's not.

The same of, course, applies to Protestant apologetics aimed at Catholics. Just as these verses don't instruct Catholics to evanglize to Protestants, they don't instruct Protestant Christians to evangelize Catholics. The difficulty here, of course, is that the most vehement Protestant apologists usually single out Catholics because they don't believe that we really are Christian, or that we are likely to be in a right (saving) relation to God. That's why I think we Catholics are more culpable in this matter. We should know better, because our Church clearly teaches that Protestants may be saved through their relationship to Christ and His Church.

B) Not only do these verses not apply to apologetics, they don't apply to the need for Christians to give "testimony" to each other. True, it says that we are always to be ready to give an explanation for the reasons of our hope. But it's talking about a situation in which Christians are being persecuted and oppressed and yet, are still hopeful. Peter imagines that the pagan/gentile society will look at the hopeful behavior of oppressed Christians and say "Wow! How can you be so hopeful when you're suffering so much?" Personally, I find this instruction to be very challenging precisely because I don't tend to demonstrate hope under adverse circumstances- but more about that in the following entry.

What Peter is not imagining is this scenario: Joe Christian encounters Sally Christian, becomes suspicious of some of her beliefs or her behavior for one reason or another, and says: "Sally, how do I know that you are really in a saving relationship with Christ? Show me evidence that you are truly Christian! You owe me an explanation." There may be other places in the Bible which endorse this behavior on the part of Joe, but 1 Peter 3:15-16 is not one of them. If we as Christians have a right as Christian to examine the "credibility" of each other's "profession," that right is not given here in Peter. (I have to say that I personally don't see any evidence that the Bible grants such a "right" to ordinary Christians outside of the pastoral relationship, but that's an argument for another day.) Again, there are other parts of the Petrine epistles which do address our behavior within the body of believers, but this verse is about our relationship to a broader, non-Christian culture.

So, I've said a lot about what 1 Peter 3:15-16 isn't saying. And, I admit, I've not offered much proof for it. Later this week, therefore, I want to offer what I think is a solid reading of these verses. And, as I've hinted here, I think we'll find that there are some very challenging implications of these verses which have gone ignored by many modern Christians, precisely because we have misappropriated this passage and turned it into an all-purpose justification and instruction for apologetics.

Musings on Graduate School and Marriage

2006-11-30T12:45:00.000-05:00

Graduate school is a world unto itself, with terminology, protocols, expectations, and events not quite like anything else in the world. Get enough graduate students together to talk about their personal lives, and eventually someone is bound to bring up the fact that her family doesn't understand what she does.

It isn't so bad during your first years of graduate school, because anyone who has gone to college has some idea of what coursework is like. (However, it may be difficult to explain to family members that no, there are no tests: it's all about writing seminar papers.) I think it's also easier to talk about graduate life when you're teaching, because everyone experiences teaching, at least from the perspective of the student. But most people do not write dissertations, or take comprehensive exams, or have to submit a dissertation prospectus and pass a proposal meeting. The work that makes up the life of a graduate student past the coursework stage, then, is a complete mystery to most people.

This isn't just a matter of an "us and them," where "us" is everyone who has gone to graduate school, and "them" is everyone who has not. It's much more complicated than that, because it's about life in a unique subculture, one in which there are many sub- sub- cultures. Even those who have master's degrees may not really grasp what it is like to produce a dissertation: master's work often has a different focus, even if the coursework is similar. You might think that people with Ph.Ds would generally be able to understand the plight of the graduate student, but this not always the case, particularly if those Ph.Ds were earned in other fields, in other eras, or even simply from other universities. There's a generation gap in the Academy as elsewhere (though a good director can do a great deal to bridge it), and on top of that, every discipline has its own culture. (If you need convincing, compare the life of a biology researcher to that of a student in the humanities. Their experiences will be worlds apart.) For that matter, every department has its own culture: my life as an English graduate student in my department may not quite correspond to someone else's life in a larger state school or an Ivy League school.

It is, therefore, a great boon to me that my husband is also a graduate student in English, in the same department I attend. We can complain to each other about our work, and understand what we are talking about. Or we can rejoice over minor milestones, likewise understanding without exaggerating their importance. Not only do we work with many of the same people, we have to deal with the same sometimes insane beaurocracy. We have shared frustration with the absurdities of first year review, anger at unfair changes in policy, concern for the same friends or acquaintances who we fear are being dropped through the cracks in a competitive environment. We have also shared the relief of passing exams, receiving summer funding, or getting praise from an often-critical committee member.

But alas, the environment IS competitive, and at times, we are competing with each other. At perhaps no time has this been more true than now, when we are both on the job market. True, there aren't very many jobs for which we are both applying, since we fortunately work in different time periods and on different subjects. But that doesn't mean we aren't competing in other ways. I can't speak for my husband, but on my part there is, unfortunately, an tendency to compare my progress with his. What if he gets more favorable response to his job applications, more requests for materials? What if he gets an interview, and I don't? What if he gets more interviews than I do? What if he gets an on-campus visit, and I don't? Most threatening of all: what if he gets a job offer, and I don't?

This is not how I want to look at the situation. I want to look at the situation and say: "See how fortunate we are? Since we're both on the market, there are much better odds that one of us will get a decent job offer, or a good postdoc. Then the other of us will be able to adjunct until a better situation comes up. We don't have to worry as much as singles, or couples who are in different years, or who already have children to care for." This is what I do say, most of the time. But it's not how I'm thinking when I'm worrying about the job market at one a.m.

Originally, I was going to call this post "The Curse of the Academic Marriage," and it was simply going to be about how hard it is for two spouses on the job market at the same time to support one another fully. I changed the title in part because it seemed to be negative, but the truth is, it would have been an inaccurate title. In the end, my problem has little to do with the specific demands of graduate school or the Academy, and everything to do with a crucial principle of marriage: the idea that when one is married, the primary good to be concerned with becomes the good of the household. One's own good is still important, since individual well-being is fundamental to the well-being of groups one is in, but personal goods, personal desires, sometimes have to be subsumed into working for the good of the household.

There are wrong versions of this principle, of course. I heard one of them in a particulaly bad sermon I once heard on the subject of wifely submission. Submission, according to this pastor, meant that when a woman marries a man, she joins her husband's team. His goals become her goals. She works under him to achieve his goals.

I believe this metaphor to be fundamentally wrong insofar as it treats the married couple's goal as if it were the pre-existent goals of the husband. It treats the team as a pre-existent team which the wife joins, as if her life and work were just an addition or appendix to her husband's life and work. I don't think wives simply sign up to be on their husband's team. I think it is much more accurate to say that when a couple marry, they form an entirely new unit, an entirely new team, an entirely new family. And it is for the good of that family, that unit, that both husband and wife work. Their primary financial and spiritual goals become the goals of the family, not the career goals, spiritual goals, or personal development goals of either spouse as an individual. "Male headship" does not make sense as a Christian doctrine in any other context than this-- at least, not to me.

And I believe this. (See, after all, that old post on the Proverbialist Manifesto.) The problem is that this reprioritization of goals it is hard. It requires thinking in terms of "we" rather than "I." As if it weren't hard enough for us to die to ourselves so that we can live in Christ, we must also die to ourselves so that we can live in right relation to our families. And that, whether or not you'll pardon my language, is damn hard to do. I think for many of us, it is the struggle of a lifetime. It is the work of sanctification-- and believe me, it's no fun to be trying to work out one's salvation with fear and trembling while also trying to get a tenure-track job.

And that's all I have to say about that.

On Catholic Worship

2006-11-15T11:04:00.000-05:00

For the past year or so, I had had at the back of my mind an entry I wanted to write about liturgical differences between the Catholic mass and Protestant Sunday services. I was going to focus on the use of music as a way of getting at a broader feature. Then Amy Welborn went and did a whole series on how the music I'm used to as a Catholic isn't really what is intended for the liturgy anyway. And suddenly, my post seemed pointless.

I still have, at the back of my mind, some thoughts on different views of worship. But it would take too long to organize them coherently and type them out. I'll save that for another day. I do, however, want share some links with readers. The first is a sort of introduction to the Mass, for Evangelical Protestants who are unfamiliar and potentially wary of it. Then there's this link , which is a copy of the text of the modern Roman Catholic (that's Roman as in "not Eastern," people) liturgy, with a sidebar listing biblical texts supporting each action. Between these two references, there's a good deal of practical information about what goes on in the Catholic liturgy, why we do it, what it means.

In general, I think there is a lot of merit to the Eastern approach to worship, which simply says: "Come and see." Want to know what our religion is like? Come and see for yourself. But there are some people who not yet ready to "come and see" what Catholic life is like. These resources may be excellent for them.

(Thanks for the links, my sister!)

Mystery Stuffing

2006-11-11T12:40:00.000-05:00

There are three points I want to make in this post. First, an apology. Second, an explanation. Third, a Mystery so Mysterious that it needs capital letters.

1) I have not been blogging with new and exciting slow-cooker recipes very often in the last few months (barring yesterday's chili recipe) and I apologize for that. I have also not worked on the index of recipes that I've been considering for some time. As of now, it's impossible to find old recipes on this site unless you know what month they were published, or unless you use the handy-dandy search feature. I've been meaning to resolve that problem by creating an index and posting a link to the Crockery Recipe Index on the left-hand side bar. Not only have I not done that, I don't know when I will do that.

2) Here's my explanation. First, I am trying to write a novel in a month, and let me tell you, I am already several thousand words behind. I am strongly tempted to give up. But just this week I received an email from the NaNoWriMo people telling me not to give up until week three! So I shall try to persevere.

The other and more serious reason for the relative dirth of recipes is that I haven't been cooking many new dishes. Instead, I've tended to make old Tuliphouse favorites, such as kielbasa in white beans, or beef merlot. When I have tried out new recipes, I've often followed the directions scrupulously, which means that I don't have a unique "Crockery version" of the recipe to post here. (You see, I really am trying to follow the copyright rules for recipes. I don't want to post a recipe which I do not have the right to publish.)

So anyway, that's why there haven't been many new recipes lately. Don't hold your breath waiting for much progress, unless, of course, you wish to hold your breath until the month of December. (There might be a post about violent nineteenth-century children's literature coming up, but only time will tell.)

3) And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: my culinary Mystery revealed! Some weeks ago, I found a recipe I wanted to try. It required a bag of seasoned bread crumbs, such as are sold by Pepperidge farms. I purchased such a bag of bread crumbs. I placed said bag of bread crumbs in my cupboard. And then, for reasons I don't remember, I completely forgot about it. Every now and then I notice the bread crumbs and wonder "What were those for, again?"

And that's what I'm asking you: what the heck could I be going to make with a bag of seasoned bread crumbs? I honestly have no clue what kind of recipe it was. It might have involved chicken (we always have lots of chicken) or it could have involved pork chops. I find it highly unlikely that it would be a vegetarian meal, but who knows what it was? In order to figure it out, I'd have to skim through all of my slow cooker cookbooks until I found a recipe that required several cups of seasoned bread crumbs. But I don't want to do that. So I'm asking you, my loyal readers: what kinds of recipes might call for those?

Now, I don't expect anyone to come up with the exact recipe. After all, you'd have to have the same cookbooks I have in order to do that. But if you can think of a general class of recipes that might require these ingredients, that'd help. And if you have your own favorite recipes which require bread crumbs, feel free to post them. I have to use up that bad of bread crumbs somehow, and at the moment at least, I am disinclined to exert much effort finding the original recipe.

Best-ever Lentil Chili

2006-11-10T11:54:00.000-05:00

Did you know that you can make chili with lentils? You can! (You can probably do anything with lentils, if you cross your eyes, tap your nose, and just wish hard enough.) To tell the truth, I haven't tried anyone else's lentil chili recipe, so I can' t say that I have empirical evidence that mine is the best. However, I believe it must be the best, because it includes kielbasa. Chili and kielbasa. . . two great things that go great together, believe it or not.

Ingredients
1 lb of kielbasa
1 cup of uncooked lentils
1 cup of rice
1 medium onion, chopped
1 6 oz can of tomato paste
1 14.5 oz can of diced or stewed tomatoes, undrained (your choice)
1 can of corn, drained
1 can of diced green peppers (or, omit this and use a tomato-and-pepper mix)
2 cloves of minced garlic
salt and pepper to taste
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp chili powder
water: ~4 cups, more or less, to desired consistency

Optional garnishes
shredded cheese (Monterey Jack or fiesta blend)
Mexican table cream, or sour cream
favorite salsa
hot sauce

Directions
1) Slice the kielbasa in half, then cut each piece into one-inch chunks. If desired, brown kielbasa in a skillet with chopped onion.

2) Add all ingredients except salt to a large slow cooker. Mix well. Note: you may wish to adjust the paprika, cumin, and chili powder to taste. You may also wish to adjust the water level to make certain that the crock is between 1/2 and 3/4 full.

3) Cook on low for 6-8 hours, depending on your slow cooker. Add salt to taste (try 1/2 tsp) at the end of cooking; stir well.

4) Allow diners to garnish the chili as desired. This will be a fairly mild chili, so you may wish to offer hot sauce to those who like their chili hot. Serve cornbread or cheesy Texas toast on the side.

Auctionious Culture

2006-11-03T10:45:00.000-05:00

Suppose you found a bag of unopened letters to God. What would you do with the letters, once you'd figured out what they were, where the came from, etc.? Would you:

1) Try to discover who wrote them, and return them to their senders.
2) Burn them, or otherwise dispose of them respectfully.
3) Bring them back to the church setting where they were deposited, so that the church members could deal with them as they see fit.
4) Put them up for auction on E-bay.

People complain about how we live in a commercialized culture, a litiginous culture, or even a libidinous culture. I think it's sad that we live in such an "auctionist" culture that the first thing people think of doing when they find something unusual or significant is to sell it to the highest bidder.

National Novel Writing Month, Again

2006-11-02T23:28:00.000-05:00

Some of you may recall that November is National Write a Novel Month, or some such thing. (I may not get the abbreviation correct, but trust me, my heart is in the right place.) This year, I've decided to write a book. Some of you may also recall that I am already supposed to write a book, otherwise known as Teresa's Dissertation. And some of you may be aware that the month of November is supposed to be dedicated to sending out application letters and materials to various colleges and universities. You are all right. I am supposed to be writing my dissertation. I am supposed to be on the job market. And I intend to continue doing both those things. But I haven't written a novel in years, and I'd like to give it a shot again. You see, I have this tiny hope that maybe I've somehow magically been transformed into a better writer since my college days.

Unfortunately, if there is any change in my writing, it's that I've become a more painstaking writer. I write a sentence, look at it for a moment, and erase it. I write a paragraph, then change my mind and decide that I don't need that I don't need to "tell" that much information, but should hold something back to reveal by "showing." In short, I edit as I write.

Editing as you draft is a good thing, I believe. I like to think that this is how I was able to whip out seminar papers in just a handful of days back in the day, while still bringing in the A, or at least the A-. However, editing while you write does NOT work at all well when the goal is to produce 50,000 words in a mere 30 days. You do the math. (I don't want to. I prefer writing to adding.) That's a good chunk of writing you have to do every day if you want to complete the book. And, of course, since there are bound to be days when I simply can't work on the project, that means that I'll have to scramble to catch up on the weekends. But I mean to try. I mean to undo years of mental programing if that's necessary to convince myself that quantity is better than quality. I mean to write a book in a month, darn it! If other people can do it, I can too. If I can produce a 19 page paper in seven hours, surely I can produce 175 pages in 30 days. Right?

How will I find the time, you ask? In theory, the plan is to cut back on my message board time, my general goofing-off time, and yes, my blogging and blog-reading time. My hope is that this November, when I find myself sitting in front of my computer bored out of my mind but unwilling to work, I will turn to my brand new novel project. Perhaps, lo and behold, it will become a brilliant work which bring me instant fame and fortune.

At the back of my mind, a little voice whispers that this is unspeakably stupid. I recall that one of my committee members even TOLD us that the year you are on the job market is not the right time to decide to write a novel. But I tell myself that she was speaking of the summer before you go on the market, not the November during which you are actually applying. I have already wasted my summer. Now it's time to waste November. And I say unto the month: November, thou art wasted!

Decree on Ecumenism

2006-10-31T11:02:00.000-05:00

Today, rather than writing an entry about Halloween, as I might have planned, I've decided to simply direct my readers to Unitatis Redintegratio, the Vatican II document on ecumenism. It is a rich document, both pastorally tender but also concerned with seeking truth. It should be required reading of everyone interested in Catholic-Protestant relations.

Test

2006-10-28T13:03:00.000-04:00

This is a test of the emergency blogcasting system. Had this been an actual post from Teresa, it would have contained more entertaining material.

But just in case you've been starving from some words of wisdom from The Crockery, here's a book recommendation to tide you over until the next "real" blog entry. It's probably too late to read this book for Halloween --what with Halloween coming up this week and all-- but put it on your spooky reading list for next year, if you keep such a thing. It's entertaining, and very very Catholic.

Haunted by the Socially Awkward

2006-10-21T15:01:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, my husband and I went to a local "haunted house." By "haunted house" I do not mean a residence said to be haunted by a ghost; I mean, rather, one of those Halloween attractions with mechanical monstors, sudden puffs of air, strobe lights, and people armed with chainsaws. We had fun. I was actually scared (I guess sudden noises do that to me) and my husband, though he was not nearly as startled as I was by people jumping out of corners and shrieking, was entertained by the sight of me being scared.

The scariest part of the experience was undoubtedly the dark maze in which one couldn't see anything and had to grope around for the door, hoping that the person one had just bumped into was one's actual spouse and not either a member of a different party or one of the workers. If you are at all frightened by the dark, it's pretty freaky.

The second scariest part of the experience was what I'll call being "Haunted by the Socially Awkward." This happened twice, when people in costumes approached me, saying nothing, DOING nothing, but simply following me. . . walking right beside me for a little way. It freaked me out as I tried to figure out what etiquette demanded in such a situation. Seeing as they were right there, it seemed I ought to acknowledge their presence, but how? Pretend to be scared? Talk to them? Run like heck? Or ought I just ignore them, pretending that I wasn't being creeped out by the fact that they were following me?

The first time, I said nothing, but kept eyeing the tall person with the mask warily. I'm sure he or she enjoyed the look of uncertainty in my eyes. The second time, I was being haunted by someone in a monk costume.* Somehow the fact that he had no mask (unlike the first Socially Awkward Haunting) made the situation even more awkward, as I could see his face. This time I muttered "Are you supposed to be a demon monk?" under my breath, as the situation seemed to call for some kind of action. If he heard me, he gave no response. I suspect that was his job: to be a silent scary presence. . . the presence of the Socially Awkward Moment.

* If I ever need proof that graduate school has turned me into a dork, I can find in the fact that, on the ride home, I pondered whether the ghostly monk costume was evidence of a residual anti-Catholicism in American culture.

Check it Out, Y'all!

2006-10-19T11:59:00.000-04:00

I'm not in the habit of posting a series of links to other work, but hey, there's a first time for everything, right?

First up is another Amy Welborn post about music. This lists some new norms for liturgical music in the US. Some of them look promising.

Next, we have Pocket Chapel, because who DOESN'T want a home altar on her desktop? Especially if it's free! This is an interesting idea, actually, but whoever does the writing for this website appears to be unfamiliar with the English language. As a result, we have statements like this:

See it as a sign of god on your Computer, which remembers you, that we all are a part of a bigger thing.

Is it mean for me to point out things like that? Probably. As penance, I'm going to point my readers to this page and say only that I've actually had one of these candles, and they smell very good. So you just go ahead and ignore all the criticism regarding the product name and marketing concept.

Finally, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention this "Motivational Poster" contest. (Sorry, kids the contest is closed. But hey, you can still see what other people entered!) Some of the entries in the "humorous" division are quite funny. Warning: some of them are even meaner than I am. There's a distinct lack of charity towards those with different religious beliefs in some entries. I'm sure the creators would argue that the purpose of the humor is to point out the absurdities of their opponants position. Whatever. The use of humor of a weapon is too big of an issue for me to tackle today.

Halloween Reading (Inevitable Ghost Entry, Part IV)

2006-10-10T15:47:00.000-04:00

Some of you may recall that last spring, my husband and I were scared out of our wits by The Demonologist, a book about the experiences of Catholic paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren. That book sparked an interest in my part on Christian views of ghosts and hauntings, and, like the good blogger I am, I've shared my interest with my readers. Since the first Inevitable Ghost Entry, I've gone on to talk about Christian theories of ghosts and bizarre connections between human spirits and demonic possession. But all of my reading at that time was based on Catholic sources. At last, I have the means of correcting this one-sided research, for I have in my hands Roberts Liardon's Haunted Houses, Ghosts & Demons: What You Can Do About Them. At last, a book with some practical information on dealing with those darn ghosts!

I don't mean to mock this book, but it's so hard not to. First of all, there's the cover, complete with a picture of a haunted house outlined against the moon, complete with airborne bats. That is, I assume they are bats, but they could easily be seagulls. Seagulls, however, are always depicted above the water. The presence of these airborne unknowns against the moon, at night, indicates that they are bats. See how useful a knowledge of graphic convention is, kids?

Next, the back of the book proclaims, in large red letters:

THERE IS A WAR GOING ON!
YOU MAY NOT BE PART OF IT,
BUT, THE BATTLE IS RAGING
ALL AROUND US RIGHT NOW!
AND YOU'RE INVOLVED!

If you are at all like me, you may be wondering at is that you can be involved in the war without being part of it. Clearly, there is some subtle theological distinction here that I'm missing. I hope some of my readers can clarify the matter for me.

I'm also puzzled by one of the chapter titles: "Seven Steps to Demon Possession." I'm pretty certain that Roberts Liardon, the founder of Spirit and Life Bible College, did not intend this chapter as a "how to" guide. Nevertheless, that's what the chapter title seems to suggest. I can only hope that no one sues him for false advertising.

The most mysterious thing about this book, though, is that I don't remember ordering it. Really. I remember putting it on my wish list. I remember THINKING about buying it. I think I even remember thinking that this (October) was a good time of year to buy it, as I like to dig up spooky reading in preparation for Halloween. But I was very surprised to find it show up on my latest Amazon.com order, because I couldn't remember clicking the "Buy now" button. Most likely, my memory is at fault, but we shouldn't rule out the possibility that my new computer is possessed. It is, after all, a refurbished laptop, and I doubt that the refurbishing process includes an exorcism ritual.

Enough of that. I really don't want to mock Liardon's project itself, though I might have doubts about the packaging and the execution. I actually am interested in Christian explanations of the experience of haunting. Whatever causes it (whether it's psychological, physical, or supernatural), haunting is a real experience with a long tradition. I've known people who experienced it, though I have not experienced it myself. I'd like to have guidelines from the Christian tradition to help me understand what might be at work in the experience of haunting.

Sadly, though, it seems that there is very little serious work on the subject from a Christian perspective. Much as I enjoyed (and learned from) the Warrens' work, I can't take them completely seriously as investigators. Lorraine Warren claimed to be a medium, and though she viewed her gift of clairvoyance as a gift of the Holy Spirit -the gift of discernment- it's hard to square that with either modern science (which has shown no real support for psychic powers) or traditional Christian theology, which has viewed work as a medium as sinful.

Roberts Liardon's background and gifts are no more credible. According to the about the author page, "He was born again, baptized in the Holy Spirit, and called to the ministry at the age of eight, after being caught up to Heaven by Lord Jesus." At the time of publication, he "preaches and ministers under a powerful anointing of the Holy Spirit." I suspect, though, that he'd be quick to deny that Lorraine's gift of discernment came from that same Spirit. Put the two in a room together, and we might have duelling charisms. But that's a subject for another day.

What concerns me today is this: I'd like to find a good, well-written, well-researched book about hauntings and the supernatural from an orthodox Christian theological perspective. And thus far, I've not found such a thing: the closest I've come is a book on poltergeists by a Jesuit. And you know you can't trust a Jesuit. . . .

So here I am, still looking for the Great Christian Ghost Book. Should you encounter it, do please let me know. In the meantime, I think I'll enjoy Liardon's book, but do pray that I enjoy it in a charitable way.

A Mortifying Question

2006-10-05T23:45:00.000-04:00

If you get bored trying to wrap your head around the idea of "singing the Mass, rather than saying the Mass," here's something else to ponder. Ask yourself:

If I can’t resist something as inconsequential as a piece of chocolate, how am I going to be able to resist real temptation when it comes my way?

That's from Brian Pessaro's essay on corporal mortification, over at Godspy. Interesting essay. I'm sure this kind of thinking scares some people, in a "that's so unhealthy way."

I can tell you that it scares me in a "how can I be so self-indulgent?" way. Perhaps you all aren't quite the glutton I am, and so perhaps it doesn't mean that much to you, but such reminders of our need for this kind of simple self discipline are sobering to someone who came back from the last grocery store with pumpkin donuts, gourmet "chocolate truffle" coffee, and guacamole, all because it looked good. (Of course, that could just be a lesson on why the experts warn us never to go grocery shopping on an empty stomach, but for the purposes of this post we'll ignore that angle.) Maybe for a few days, this essay will strengthen my will, enabling me to resist an unnecessary late-night snack. But then I'll slip back to my usual ways. It happens all the time.

That, I think, is one of the things at the heart of this essay: the fact that discipline does us the most good when it is an actual part of our lives, not something picked up for a fad. We are to take up our cross daily, and daily rituals like Pessaro's cold shower are tools to help with that.

Tomorrow is Friday, a traditional day of penance. Many Christians will abstain from eating red meat tomorrow. Others will substitute some other form of abstinence. (I myself usually give up reading "fun" novels: only non-fiction or primary material from my time period is allowed.) But many more Christians will go about their usual schedule, either blissfully unaware of the observances traditionally attached to Fridays throughout the year, or under the impression that no one does that sort of thing anymore, and it isn't good for you, anyway.

What will you do?

On Singing Hymns

2006-10-04T10:40:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned in a previous post, Catholic blogs tend to be full of discussions about proper liturgical music. Usually, these discussions bore me, because regardless of what the discussers say, they usually come down to matters of taste rather than to theological questions. And as we all know, there's no disputing taste. Some of us truly do prefer the sound of "The Servant Song" to "Blest Be the Tie That Binds."

In any case, Amy Welborn has a recent post which says something actually interesting about the use of hymns in the liturgy. Essentially, she points out that hymns themselves are a concession, not the ideal model of liturgical music. A truly traditional Catholic Mass would be one in which the music sung by the congregation is all part of the Mass. One of the quotes Amy pulls out is worth repeating here:

Simply stated, the Church calls us to SING THE HOLY MASS, not sing AT Mass. This is done by singing the various chants that the Sacred Liturgy of the day gives us- especially the Entrance Antiphon, the Offeratory Antiphon, and the Holy Communion Antiphon. This is normally done by chanting the antiphon as a refrain, with psalm texts used as verses. This is the way the Graduale Romanum and the Graduale Simplex lay it out.

After describing the traditional mode of worhsip, Amy raises questions about how the use of hymnody became the norm for American parishes. It's worth reading, if only because it' s amusing to think that one sure way to get rid of the Haugen-Haas bashing would be to remove all hymns from the liturgy and return to the use of propers and graduals. In some ways, this suggestion is like the Catholic equivelent of the Protestant "Psalm-only" debates. (One of the differences, of course, is that no one on the Catholic side would actually claim that there are Scriptural principles forbidding the use of hymns in worship: the question is a matter of tradition and liturgical theory, not a matter of conscience.)

What is ironic about all of this was that, before I read this post, I was already planning to blog on the subject of "Top Ten Places Not to Sing Hymns," begining with an academic library. (Trust me, no one will thank you for the disruption, even if you are disrupting their work with holy song.) If the church in America goes in the direction that Amy points out, your local Catholic parish might become #1 on the list.

Discontented about the Dahlia

2006-10-01T14:19:00.000-04:00

I know I haven't been blogging much lately. Blame the academic job market: my first materials have to go out in just about three weeks, and I'm still working on the materials. I predict that the trend of infrequent blogging will continue at least until the beginning of November, and maybe beyond that, as I wait to learn whether I'll be interviewed at this year's MLA convention.

But enough about that. What I really wanted to say was this: don't go see "Black Dahlia."

You may be a true crime buff who has read all the books about the Black Dahlia murder. You may have your own pet theory as to who killed Elizabeth Short and why. You may think that you've been waiting your whole life to see her story brought to the cinema.

If that's the case, though, you're going to have to keep waiting, because the film currently in the theaters is not really about Elizabeth Short's life, and it is only minimally about her death. It's really about a bunch of screwed-up people and their screwed-up relationships. It's violent, morally bankrupt, and psychologically improbable. The reason for the murder doesn't make sense even in an insane way.

The beginning of the movie was interesting, though I kept wondering when they were going to get to the stuff about the murder. Halfway through the movie, though, I had to fight with myself to keep from checking my watch. When we left the theater, I told LeopoldTulip that I thought "Snakes on a Plane" was the better film. At least with "Snakes," one had the impression that the "badness" was intentional. The director and/or writers of "Snakes" were probably quite happy to have people snicker at their dialogue, as long as said people were buying tickets. I suspect that the writers and director of "Black Dahlia" were hoping for an Oscar nomination. I'm sure they're disappointed with the film's reception. . . but perhaps not as disappointed as the viewers are with the film.

Unsleeping Eye of the Defenders of Satire

2006-09-26T12:25:00.000-04:00

Once again, I'm blogging about something that Joe Carter said. Readers may wonder "Does she read nothing else?" Yes, actually, I do read other blogs. I am often entertained and enlightened by them. But somehow, Evangelical Outpost often manages to come up with the most interesting controveries. To be fair, other blogs I read do result in long-drawn out combox arguments. I guess I've just gotten a little tired of arguments about whether spaghetti straps are immoral or whether the music of Haugen and Haas was secretly written by demons in Hell. (Come on, people, some of it's good stuff. Really! It's not GIA or OCP's fault your parish only uses the lamest of their work. Blame your music minister. . . but put down those rocks before you talk to Sister.) Evangelical Outpost often provides a fresh perspective to me. . . probably precisely because I'm NOT evangelical myself.

However, I have to admit I'm puzzled by the combox discussion over at Evangelical Outpost this week. Joe wrote an excellent post called A Letter to the Religious Right, well worth reading even if, like me, you try to distance yourself from all politics because you secretly wish you could be a Democrat. What puzzled me, though, was that so many of the comments were about Joe's criticism of Ann Coulter. Is defending Ann Coulter really what it means to be part of the Religious Right? Yech!

No, of course, I know that there are many fine politically conservative Christians who don't care for Coulter. And some of them spoke up in the combox, too. But I'm still surprised to find that that was apparently the most controversial thing about Carter's "Letter." Who knew?

Yo soy no marino!

2006-09-22T09:45:00.000-04:00

Today I learned the answer to the age-old question: "What is your inner pirate?

You are The Cap'n!

Some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some slit the throats of any man that stands between them and the mantle of power. You never met a man you couldn't eviscerate. Not that mindless violence is the only avenue open to you - but why take an avenue when you have complete freeway access? You are the definitive Man of Action. You are James Bond in a blousy shirt and drawstring-fly pants. Your swash was buckled long ago and you have never been so sure of anything in your life as in your ability to bend everyone to your will. You will call anyone out and cut off their head if they show any sign of taking you on or backing down. You cannot be saddled with tedious underlings, but if one of your lieutenants shows an overly developed sense of ambition he may find more suitable accommodations in Davy Jones' locker. That is, of course, IF you notice him. You tend to be self absorbed - a weakness that may keep you from seeing enemies where they are and imagining them where they are not.

What's Yer Inner Pirate?
brought to you by The Official Talk Like A Pirate Web Site. Arrrrr!

Beowulf vs. the Dinosaurs!

2006-09-21T16:36:00.000-04:00

I discovered this article through a list-serve I'm on. Truly, I'm in awe, because this reads at times almost as if it were a piece from Lark News. The author, Ruth Beechick, asserts that the Old English poem Beowulf is based on historical fact. Well, thus far, she's not unique: I think other people have suggested that there may have been some chief, warlord, or prince named Beowulf, hundreds of years ago. Such people usually assert that, as in the case of King Arthur, the real exploits of this character have been embellished in legend, such that the finished tale may bear little resemblence to his actual life.

Ruth Beechick will have none of that demythologizing of medieval mythology! She believes that not only was Beowulf real, but the monsters he fought were real, too. They were, you see, dinosaurs. Mmm hmm. The dinosaurs, like all God's creatures, survived the Flood in Noah's ark, and some of them lingered on in the world. Indeed, I should not say "linger," but "lingered," for Beechick claims that:

Most dinosaurs are extinct now or almost so, but now and then some sightings show that a few survivors remain in the world.

Perhaps this is a reference to the Loch Ness monster and her ilk? I grant that there have been interesting reports of sea beasts throughout the world, but I myself would be very very hesitent to claim that those reports add up to anything like proof.

In any case, Beechick makes this bizarre claim about Beowulf scholarship:

Why, then, do so many literature critics say that Beowulf is fiction? It is because they do not believe that dinosaur creatures lived at the same time men lived. Their evolutionary worldview says that dinosaurs lived long ages before men evolved on the earth. Therefore, in their minds, this all must be fiction. But with a Biblical worldview, we can see that dinosaurs entered the ark with Noah—land species at least—and they lived on the earth again after the Flood. But the post-Flood earth was not so hospitable to large creatures and they eventually became almost extinct.

Of course! Our readings of Beowulf have been completely warped by our belief in evolution! It's so simple, once you stop to think of it. Oh, those evil liberal academics, denying the truth of this great Christian hero's exploits! Shame on them!

No, of course I don't mean that. Shame, rather, on Crosswalk.com for publishing such bullshit. And shame on "scholars" like Ruth Beechick who are so blinded by a pet theory about the development (or non-development) of life on earth that they not only produce shoddy readings of literature, but then insult all dissenting Beowulf scholars. I pity any children who may be taught from the book Beechick is currently writing, if this is a fair taste of her work over all.

So, let me get this right. . .

2006-09-15T10:18:00.000-04:00

. . . Pluto isn't a planet anymore, but suddenly, Fluffy is? Make no mistakes, I would back cats against dogs any day, but this seems like a clear-cut case of discrimination to me. Unless, of course, by "Fluffy," they mean a pomeranian.

The Binding of The Blade

2006-09-10T20:50:00.000-04:00

For some time, I've been meaning to blog about L.B. Graham's Christian fantasy series, the Binding of the Blade. Now seems as good a time as any, since I've just finished the third book. (I'll try not to drop any spoilers!)

First, the good stuff:

What attracts me to Graham's book is his strong sense of myth. Making use of stock fantasy narratives and elements (the boy who discovers his powers; dragons, giants, and talking animals) in addition to Judeo-Christian imagery, he has created a rich and unique world. Many fantasy writers try to achieve the deep historical sense which undergird Tolkien's _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy. Graham comes closer to most in achieving it. What he has done is simple: he took the Christian narratives of Fall and Redemption and set them in a new world, one in which men coexist with various other creatures. There are no magicians as in secular fantasy, but prophets who work God's miracles fill that role. Overall, the world Graham creates is rich and full of possibility.

And now the criticism. . .

One of the downsides to Graham's use of stock narratives is that at times, his plotting is cliche. Nearly every writer's first fantasy novel centers on a young protagonist who discovers abilities (usually but not always supernatural or magical in nature) he or she never knew existed. Through the course of the novel--sometimes through the course of the series--the protagonist learns to use his/her newfound abilities, and ends up saving the day. Beyond the Summer Land offers a new and unexpected twist to that narrative. However, I see indications that the fourth book is going to repeat a now-standard narrative twist borrowed from Tolkien. I hope I'm wrong, however.

I can forgive Graham for a lot of the problems caused by his use of generic cliches, both because there's so much else that IS unique about his mythic worldbuilding, and because those cliches are so hard to avoid. There are archetypal narratives which get repeated precisely because they are so powerful, and it is no disgrace to make use of them if one can do so in a way which is "fresh."

I don't know that I can be as easy on him with regard to his writing style. As other readers have pointed out, his dialogue is often stilted, and he struggles with the "show-don't-tell" principle of fiction writing. Exposition seems to be a real problem for him: description and backstory get awkwardly tucked into dialogues in which characters sit around telling each other things they ought already to know.

And now I'm about to make some sweeping generalizations. . .

Perhaps it's unfair to speculate, but it seems to me that these problems with writing are common in Christian fiction. I'm really not sure why. Is it simply that the writing standards are lower in Christian publishing, because the pool of authors from which to draw is smaller? This has been operating assumption until now. Now I find myself wondering if there's some deeper problem at work. On the Binding of the Blade forum, Graham explains that he sees himself as a storyteller rather than a writer. It seems to me that this characterization might fit many of the rising Christian fantasy authors. They have bright, exciting visions of a world in which good and evil are at war; they may have a strong sense of epic narrative; but they don't really have the ability to craft those visions into well-written fiction. Perhaps their abilities are ultimately better-suited for an oral storytelling format. Perhaps, in other words, at their core, the current crop of Christian fantasy authors are preachers rather than novelists.

Maybe I'm getting goofy here. Perhaps the problem is much simpler: perhaps these authors simply saw a demand for inspirational fantasy and rushed in to supply it, despite not being gifted in all areas of creative writing. If so, there's hope that a second generation will be able to step into the literary/marketing territory which has been newly opened up and offer something more polished.

In any case, I'd recommend Graham's work to all those with an interest in "inspirational fantasy," but I recommend it with the disclaimer that it should be read not for the writing itself, but for the vision behind it.

Return of the Apple Cider

2006-09-10T11:44:00.000-04:00

Last night, at the vigil mass, the new assistant pastor mentioned in his sermon that fall was here. Leaves are starting to change colors, children are going back to school, and football season was starting up. I couldn't help but think something along the lines of "I wonder when the apple cider will return." You see, when the days get cooler, I start longing for something warm, spicy, and tasting of autumn: apple cider, to be precise. I even sent my husband off on a cider-buying expedition a few weeks ago, but to no avail. Cider is a seasonal beverage, only available during autumn and winter.

But it must really be autumn now, because as of today, apple cider is appearing in grocery stores, at least in my neck of the woods. There's a medium-sized crockpot full of it in my kitchen right now, prepared from the directions given in my very first blog entry. I can't wait for the wonderful smell that will arise as it heats. Spiced apple cider smells a little like incense or pot-pourri, but it's an edible incense, offered to the God who makes the seasons change, year after year, whether we want them to do so or not.

I can't imagine living in a climate without the four seasons I've grown up knowing and loving. I'm sure that southern California and Florida are lovely places, but for a person drawn to familiar rituals and traditions, living there would surely be depressing. The holidays and the seasons are mingled together in my memory. To every thing there is a season. . . and to every season there are certain foods which never seem as fitting or taste as good served out of time. Autumn is the time for scary costumes, ghost stories, and apple products. (Cider is just the beginning: at some point this year, I want to curl up with a gourmet candy apple and a scary movie.) As October turns into November, and autumn fades into early winter, thick sweaters and thick stews will appear. Around Christmas, I'll stock up on Mexican chocolate . . . and dark molasses, a necessary ingredient for hot gingerbread cake. Some like gingerbread cookies, but we like the cake, served with real whipped cream. In late winter, perhaps I'll grow desperate for color and spice, and reach for the chili section of my favorite cookbook.

I admit it, I have more trouble coming up with good spring and summer dishes. We don't have a grill and we're not into salads. Autumn and winter, however, are ideal times for a slow cooking fan. I like to think that at this time of year I excel at coming up with comfort food to battle the gloomy clouds that settle over town about now. Last year my stewmeat of choice was veal. Who knows what I'll manage to put into a stew this year?

I predict that in the upcoming weeks, I will blog about: Halloween and the need cultures have to be scared now and then; oxtail stew, if I am brave enough to try it; Nosferatu and the genre of silent horror; more apple products; hot soups and fresh breads and warm, filling desserts; Victorian ghost stories, famous or not; and perhaps the quiet power of the Christian Year, which moves us through our lives, sometimes without our noticing it.

Sweet Home Kansas City

2006-09-05T16:06:00.000-04:00

I am not, in fact, from Kansas City, but the my barbecue sauce is. Tonight, I've decided to utilize that sauce in combination with my favorite type of sausage, in what I hope will be a tasty variation of a common dish at the Tulip house: kielbasa in barbecue sauce.

Ingredients:

1 lb of kielbasa, cut into bite-sized pieces

1/2 of a medium-sized onion, sliced (You may cut the resulting onion rings in half to create onion crescents, though as far as I know, no one else calls them that.)

1/2 cup marmalade (This is what makes "Sweet Home Kansas City Kielbasa" a unique dish. Marmalade is said to go well with barebcue sauce, but I've never tried it.)

1/2 cup plain ole barbecue sauce (In other words, you don't have to get a fancy shmancy flavor. Just pick the "original" of your favorite brand.)

Directions:

Combine ingredients in a small or medium cooker (small cookers may work best). Cook on low for 3-4 hours, or on high for about 2 hours. Serve with warm rolls, vegetables, and perhaps a cheesy side dish. Plain, cheap, comes-in-a-box macaroni and cheese makes a good companion for this meal, but you can be more creative if you like.

Propositions of the Proverbialist Manifesto I

2006-08-28T17:17:00.000-04:00

Though my previous post on the Proverbs 31 woman didn't actually list the sorts of statements a "Proverbialist" woman might make about gender, family, and work, I want to do a little of this here. I suspect this will be an ongoing project, as I'm certainly not going to think of everything right now, and my wording is highly unlikely to be right the first time. Feel free to add your own propositions in the combox. Maybe someday I'll put it all together into an actual "manifesto." Then we shall take over the world. Yeah, baby!

1. Proverbialist women are committed, first and foremost, to be being molded into the image of Christ. This means that their relationship to God, in Christ, as members of His body the Church, is to be their first priority.

2. Proverbialist women are committed to the spiritual, emotional, physical, [fill in the blank with adjectives I'm missing] and economic well-being of their household. This means that in general, the good of the household holds priority over individual goals, except when those individual goals are necessary for fulfilling Proposition #1.

3. Proverbialist women and the men who love them (ah, I love that I get to use that phrase) believe that the good of the household is one which rightly belongs to both spouses, though that responsibility may be exercised in different ways, due to the Scriptural ordering of families (Ephesians 5), divine gifting of individual talents and abilities, and specific personal or cultural circumstances.

Thus, questions such as "How do I balance work and home life?" must be asked of husbands and fathers as well as wives and mothers. Husbands may be equally guilty of failure to prioritize the good of the houshold.

4. Proverbialist women believe that the Biblical call for women to work for the good of the household, as demonstrated in Proverbs 31, includes economically productive labor (making cloth), business transactions (buying or selling land), and the work of managing and maintaining the household. All of these types of work are thus appropriate and may be fitting for a married woman. Neither wives nor husbands have a monopoly over any of these types of work.

5. Proverbialist women and their counterpart husbands recognize that the division of labor has shifted over the last few centuries. In the past, men and women might both be able to work from the home, and children were incorporated into the household workforce, rather than undergoing educatation outside the work force until (or after) adulthood. Today's situation, in which work and education generally are separated from each other and both take place "outside of the home," presents new complications. Divisions of labor which worked in the past may require revision. This change influences' mens' labor as much as it does women: it is no more natural or desirable for men to be gone from the home 40-60 hours a week than it is for women to do so.

6. Keeping in mind both Proposition 4 and 5, Proverbialist women would argue that it does not follow that a married, Christian women must necessarily dedicate her life primarily to the maintenance of the home or the education of her children. The assignment of these duties as the sole or primary work of married women is a historical construct, not a divine mandate. At the same time, Proverbialist women agree that any economically productive labor must be undertaken for the good of the household. Pursuit of work in a way which causes serious injury to children, spouses, or the Proverbialist woman herself is to be avoided.

Thus, although historical and Biblical examples suggest that it is normative for married women to care for their households through economically productive labor (producing goods or services which might be either used by the household or exchanged for wages), Proverbialist women understand that this is not always possible or ideal in individual cases today.

At the same time, though it may be preferable for both men and women to work with the household, rather than away from it, it is understood that this is often not possible.

7. Male and female equality in terms of responsibility and rights is not understood by the Proverbialist woman to indicate sameness or likeness in all aspects of behavior. A woman's unique role in pregnancy, breastfeeding, for example, may require special consideration, as may the strong emotional need for provision of their families which many men experience. At the same time, care must be taken to distinguish between culturally-constructed stereotypes and an individual's own preferences and abilities. Not all women are gifted with the desire to care for their homes; not all men are gifted with a greater capacity to provide for their families.

8. Taking all of that into account, Proverbialist women do not condemn women's involvement in such possible lifestyles as these: "staying at home" to care for children and maintain the household, working for financial gain from the home, involvement in a family business, or work "outside the home" for wages. They do, however, condemn any view which limits women's roles in an unbiblical and historically misinformed way.

A Proverbialist Manifesto

2006-08-28T12:01:00.000-04:00

Joe Carter has drawn some flak in his combox for a post called "Don't Marry a Proverbs 31 Woman," in which he points out that what modern conservative Christians hold up as ideal in a wife is not actually what Proverbs 31 holds up as the wifely ideal. So before I launch off on my own rantings, let me say: Joe Carter, I salute you! Thanks for pointing out the inconsistancy between the Proverbs 31 woman and the model of femininity found in certain conservative Christian circles.

This is an issue that concerns me deeply, as a woman, a wife, a potential mother, and a wannabe scholar. Though the jumper-wearing homeschooling SuperMother may be a stereotype common among evangelical Christians, she can also be found in conservative Catholic communities. The "Piously Papist" model of the SuperMom can be identified by the scapular or Miraculous Medal around her neck and the lives of the saints books on her bookshelf, but she often shares with her Protestant sister the idea that women are ideally intended to stay at home and take care of their children. She may even believe that even childless women fulfill their feminine role best by staying home and maintaining the household.

Sometimes SuperMom's actions are motivated by necessity, current family situations, a strong vocational call to homemaking, or by a well-considered, prayerfully- made decision that this is what's best for her family, right now. In that case, I have no quarrel with her, though I might wish she'd come over and make brownies for me. However, sometimes I get the sense that certain SuperMoms are motivated primarily by the belief that this is what God wants women to do: that women are inherently supposed to stay home and care for the household, because, darn it, that's what the Bible says, and that's what Christian women have always been called to do. In other words, their view of the good wife stems from a theology based more on "50’s-era faux nostalgia" than on a Biblically or historically informed view of women's work.

The truth is that in the past, women did often stay at home- but they did not spend all of their time teaching their children, playing with their children, or monitoring their children. Nor was all of their effort devoted to the task of cleaning and shopping. Instead, they raised livestock, grew vegetables, made butter, spun and wove cloth, and produced handcrafts. If they lived in the city, they may have worked behind the counter of their husband's shop, handled simpler tasks of his trade, helped managed his workers if he employed them, or even worked beside him, along with the rest of the family. SuperMom of the past was, in other words, a vital part of the family business, and if her husband died, she might very well take over his job for him and keep running the family workshop or store.

In other words, SuperMoms of the past were economically productive. They produced goods or services which were often bartered for other necessities or exchanged for money. Yes, they did shop and cook and bake, care for and teach their children, but that was only part of their working lives. After the industrial revolution, however, a strange shift began to occur. Suddenly, the ideal SuperMom became a woman who was primarily an economic consumer. She bought groceries and home furnishings. She made sure meals were prepared well, and she maintained the attractiveness of her home. Often she managed her husband's money, and helped maintain the family budget. But unlike the SuperMom of the past, she did not contribute to the budget by earning money or producing raw goods.

Initially, Consumer SuperMom was a class-based ideal. Only upper- or middle-class women could aspire to be economically unproductive. Lower-class women still worked for wages, as they always had, and they often worked outside the home. By the nineteenth century, however, this view of the ideal woman as a maintainer of the home rather than a producer of goods and services was being touted as the ideal for all classes. In the 20th centuy, she was given a face on '50s television: she was June Clever or Donna Reed, the pearl-clad mother who makes the house run well. In the 1960s, her image exploded. Many women abandoned the '50s model of Ideal Woman as a consumer-maintainer rather than a producer. As Joe Carter points out, sadly, these women also abandoned character traits such as chastity, trustyworthiness, etc. Endorsing feminism often meant endorsing sexual immorality.

Perhaps more tragic yet, some conservative Christians decided that traditional Christian morality was somehow bound up in the image of the Mother as Homemaintainer and Childrearer. If "feminism" meant immorality, then anything opposed to the traditional values must be dangerous, maybe even unChristian. And because cultural memory is short, people looking for "traditional values" looked back over their shoulder only as far as the nineteenth century (more often, only as far as the first half of the 20th century), ignoring the work that women had done for centuries as craftspersons, gardeners, weavers, tailers, shopkeepers. (Those models are still there in Dickens, by the way: but they are lurking in the lower classes. Haven't you noticed how often the good publican in the novel has a jolly wife in the kitchen who helps him run his business?)

I do not believe that the '50s model of woman as Consumer-Maintainer is at all supported by the Bible. Certainly, the Proverbs 31 woman was economically productive. I think that she -not '50s SuperMom, or her Conservative Christian disciple- is the ideal, what God desires for women in general: for them to support their household economies with their skill and their labour, as they always have. In some cases, or at some stages of family life, that may not be possible. Still, I believe that the economically-productive wife is the true historical and Biblical norm. And that's why I sometimes dare to call myself a Catholic feminist, though I do so with fear and trembling, knowing that my co-religionists will think this means I support women's ordination, "abortion rights," pre-marital sex, or homosexual marriage. I don't support any of those things- as my readers know, I don't even support the use of contraception. But I also don't support those aspects of "traditional gender roles" which were invented after the Industrial Revolution. In the eyes of the conservative Christian world, that makes me something of a feminist.

Perhaps a name change is in order. If the Proverbs 31 woman is, as I believe she is, the Biblical spokeswoman for a model of womanhood as economically productive, maybe from now on I should simply call myself a Proverbialist. It's much less threatening a word than "feminist," and it's more specfic than the phrase "Christian feminist," which is often used to describe any number of heresies about sexual ethics. Plus, calling myself a Proverbialist allows me to use a very catchy title for today's blog. What do you think?

Curse Ye, Zwingli?

2006-08-23T23:24:00.000-04:00

I don't normally go out of my way to pick on foundational theologians from other people's traditions, but in this case, someone from the Reformed community has done it for me. Peter Leithart has written a very intriguing article on why there is no great evangelical literature. The answer: because modern-day evangelicals see symbols as separate from reality. Whereas a sacramental imagination sees symbols as things which act on the world -sacraments being ways grace acts in our lives- a Reformed perspective sees symbols as something which only point to or gesture towards something else which acts. The result is that characters and plot elements in Protestant fiction merely stand in for something: they aren't things which act in and of themselves, as they are in the works of Flannery O'Connor, who serves as Leithart's example of a great Catholic author.

Of course, there's a catch. I'd love to claim that O'Connor is a fair representative of Catholic literature, but that's just not so. To compare O'Connor to someone like Frank Peretti or Janet Oke would be vastly unfair. It would be like comparing Gerard Manley Hopkins to . . . well, pretty much anyone. Felicia Hemans, maybe? But even that comparison would not be allowable, because Hemans (to the best of my recollection) was a Church of England author, and in Leithart's view, Church of England writers don't count as evangelical, because they are influenced by the very sacramental Book of Common Prayer. But wait! Hemans wrote before the Tractarian Movement forever changed the landscape of the Anglican Communion. . . so perhaps she does count as evangelical? Are you confused yet? So am I! Suffice to say that Leithart may be forgetting that the Church of England was not always as Catholic-lite as it is today. It may not be fair to assume that whatever good has come from writers raised in the Church of England came from their sacramental sensibilities, given that those sacramental sensibilities didn't really crystalize on a wide scale until the second half of the nineteenth-century.

Still, even with that caveat, it seems that many of the best (or most prominent) religious writers from the Church of England have leaned in the High Church direction- Christina Rossetti and T.S. Eliot both come to mind. As a proud proponant of the sacramental worldview myself, I can't deny that I think that there is a connection between artistry and sacramentality. I do think, therefore, that Leithart is on to something. But is it the case that a strong view of the sacraments must precede good religious writing? Or is it, rather, that a good writer will naturally gravitate towards a more sacramental theology, simply because he/she comes to understand better the role of symbols? Hopkins and Eliot were, after all, both converts to High Churchism. Did they write well because they had embraced a sacramental view, or did they embrace a sacramental theology because, as good writers, they already saw the world a sacramental way?

If I had an answer to such questions, I might have a topic for the hypothetical book I'll write after my dissertation is hypothetically finished. But alas, I do not. Perhaps we'll find out in Heaven. . . unless it turns out that Janet Oke was the greatest Christian author to walk the planet.

Thanks to People of the Book for the link to this article. And thanks to Dorian Speed for linking to People of The Book. And thanks to all the kittens of the world for being so cute. This one's for the kittens! View them here.

On the Veneration of Chocolate

2006-08-19T10:47:00.000-04:00

Those who've taken the time to read the description of this blog may have noticed that although I claim that "literature cum chocolate is the order of the day here at the The Crockery," I seldom do talk about chocolate. (What you may not realize is that that blurb actually means simply that I will be consuming chocolate whilst I consume literature. You should try it, too.)

Chocolate is indeed a most important substance, but I've not had the chance to talk about it, until now. Gaze on the object to the right. What does it resemble to you? I'll go first: to me, it resembles a statue of a bald eagle, with its head turned over its shoulder to look back. Or it looks a bit like one of the Maltese Falcon statuettes, but without the beak. The curve on the left resembles a wing to me, and the general shape of the object resembles the outline ascribed in popular artwork to birds of prey.

Other people think this delectable morsel resembles the Blessed Virgin Mary. According to an Associated Press writer, "Since the discovery Monday. . . employees [at the chocolatier's] have spent much of their time hovering over the tiny figure, praying and placing rose petals and candles around it."

Now, I'm all in favor of giving honor where honor is due, and I think honor is indeed due to chocolate, as a tasty food substance with unexpected health benefits. And I am definitely in favor of giving honor to the Mother of our Lord, whom all generations will call blessed. I'm not convinced, however, that honoring the piece of chocolate pictured above is really the most reasonable way of honoring Our Lady. Oh, I think she understands what her venerators are trying to do, and I think she appreciates their gestures. I don't believe that those rose petals and candles are wasted: I think that they are ultimately offered for the glory of God, through Our Lady's intercesion. No theological problem there for me.

It's just that I also think that at some point, Mary must be shaking her head and smiling wryly and saying "but that's not a miracle, and it's not an apparition of me! It's just a piece of chocolate twisted in an unusual way!" I don't believe that every burn in a piece of toast or every stain in a window which someone imagines resembles Mary really is a divine gift, unless it be the gift of an active imagination. And this image in particular is a good example: it doesn't actually resemble Mary. It has no face, no details, none of the symbols associated with Marian images. It resembles, rather, the general shape of a particular genre of religious statuary. I think if Our Lady were really going to appear in chococlate (and how more feminine can you get than that?), she'd do better than that.

Does it hurt people to see the image of Mary in chocolate, and offer respect? In most cases, no, probably not. Anything that points people back to the divine (and Mary always points us back to her son) is good for them. I, however, wince at the reports of these apparations, thinking, "Oh, yeah, that'll help the Catholic Church's image!" But perhaps that's just my pride. . . we are, after all, called to be fools for Christ.

Presenting the Newest Member of The Crockery

2006-08-14T12:43:00.000-04:00

As some of you may recall, a tragic accident in recent weeks lost us the culinary company of our dear friend "Chippy" and his wife, otherwise known as my medium-sized slow cooker and lid. Today I'd like to introduce the newest member of The Crockery team, a 3-quart Hamilton Beach slow cooker, which I like to call "Hammy." (Pay no attention to the Proctor Silex label on the model in this picture: the two companies are in cahoots somehow, and I'm pretty sure that this is the same as the model I have, except for the label.) The new cooker comes with a removeable liner, a lid handle which is cool to the touch, and four settings: Off, Keep Warm, Low, and High. The Keep Warm setting is a particular blessing, as it means that one can maintain food temperature without overcooking the meal. At least, I hope that's what it means.

I've already tried out the new pot, and am happy to report that it passes muster. True, the liner is still too big to comfortably fit in the dishwasher without blocking the spray, but that's our dishwasher's fault, and we'll not be holding it against our friend Hammy. Come on, everybody, give a warm welcome to the newest member of the team!

Blackeyed Chicken: More Experiments in Chili

2006-08-14T11:59:00.000-04:00

Perhaps some of you are wondering: where has Teresa been this summer? The answer is that I've been travelling to visit relatives, go to retreats, etc. In a couple of weeks I'll be travelling to my first conference of the year. What larks! Guess I'll have to write that conference paper, eh? All of this travelling isn't bad (though it has made us sick a couple of times), but it has kept me from blogging much.

Now I'm back, with another "what's in the pot today?" post. What that means is that I'm going to tell you about the recipe before it's even done cooking; before, in fact, I know whether it's any good. A bold move? A stupid move? Perhaps, perhaps. The reason I do this is that I have more time for things like blogging in the mornings or around lunchtime. In the afternoons, I have to do "real work." In the evenings, by which time I will have actually sampled today's recipe, I am often either doing more work (as befits a night owl) or spending time with my husband (as befits a married woman). Since the mornings are my official goof-off time, that's what you'all get.

So, all that aside, what's in the pot today? Answer: My very first pot of white chili! This is indeed an historic day. I have made basic red chili -complete with tomatos and lots of chili powder- in the past, but I've never tried white chili. Here's how it all went down:

I've been longing to try white chili for some time. . . ever since the fatal day when I noticed the recipe on the back of a can of Great Northern Beans. Those beans have been sitting in our pantry for weeks, months even. We don't really use them for anything. We tried using them as a substitute for white kidney beans in our beloved kielbasa and beans dish, but it didn't work. They just don't have the right texture or taste. But they'd be perfect for white chili. . . or so I hope. Today's experiment will either fulfill all my hopes, or crush them, like so many invading ants in the catfood.

With white chili on my mind during my last grocery story run, I bought the second, and perhaps most vital bean: blackeyed peas. Now, people don't often put these in chili, but I think they should. Black eyed peas, with their contrasting markings, look good in chili, and they taste good, too. Or so I think. They make a good color contrast in "red" chilis or black bean chilis, but they also look good paired with plain white beans, such as Great Northern Beans or White Kidney beans. With black-eyed peas in hand, my plan was ready: we already had all of the other ingredients necessary. Here's the line-up:

Ingredient Line-up
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, thawed
1 can of Great Northern Beans (or substitute white kidney beans)
1 can of unseasoned black-eyed peas (Remember, they're good luck, in some American subcultures. Or is that only on New Years' Eve?)
1 can of chicken broth
1 (4 oz.) can of diced green chilis
1 can of corn (optional; may also use 1 cup frozen corn)
1 small zucchini, diced (optional: I am probably not going to add this today, since I don't keep zucchini on hand, but I wanted you to consider all the vegetable possibilities)
about 1/2 cup diced onion
1 teaspoon oregano
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon chili powder
salt to taste

Your Secret Instructions
1. Spray the liner of your medium-sized slow cooker with Pam or other cooking spray. Please, you'll be glad if you do!

2. Chop the chicken breast into roughly bite-sized pieces. Panfry in a tablespoon of olive oil until white on all sides. You may fry some of the onion with the chicken at this point.

3. Drain and rinse both cans of beans. Add to cooker.

4. Add all ingredients EXCEPT corn, zucchini and salt. Mix together as desired.

5. Cook on low for 6-7 hours. (Since the beans are canned, they do not need to be cooked longer than the other ingredients, nor do they need to be prepped by cooking on high.)

6. When there is still one hour to go (in other words, after about 5 hours), add the salt and optional corn and/or zucchini.

Will it be good? Only time will tell. In the meantime, credit goes to Beth Hensperger and Julie Kaufman for their white chili recipe. Although I had already determined which main ingredients I was going to use before consulting the Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Cookbook, I turned to this slow cooker Bible to find out what spices go in white chili. Without Julie and Beth's help, I might still have known not to use much chili powder, but I'd never have known to put in that much oregano. Julie and Beth, I salute you! (Even though I rarely follow your recipes to the letter.)

Creepy Church Design & Christian "Normals"

2006-07-28T10:34:00.000-04:00

In the past, I've blogged a bit about the way Christian cultures sometimes use the "creepy" or the grotesque for religous purposes. For example, the way the film "Corpse Bride" was occasionally dismissed because it looked "weird." Or the way Roald Dahl books are rejected by some because they are "too morbid" for children. And I've rambled on about about Halloween and gargoyles. As my more recent posts about ghosts should make clear, I generally think that spooky stuff is cool, and I'm generally interested in how Christians respond to "the creepy." I think there's sometimes a bizarre tendency to assume that "scary" means "bad" or "unChristian," as if a healthy Christian worldview would be devoid of the creepy, the grotesque, and the frightening. (But it's okay to talk about Hell, right? Even to tell children about it? Yeah, I'm wondering how that coheres just as much as you are.)

Well, I'm not the only one to notice that American Christianity's approach to human mortality and death is some times out of touch with Christian treatment of death on a global-historical scale. (Note: you may wonder what "global-historical" means. So do I. I am not sure it is a real term, but it sounded good here, don't you think?) Today, for example, Catholic apologist Jimmy Akin has an interesting post on the use of human remains in ecclesiastical artwork/furnishings. Is that creepy, or what? It certainly does add a challenging view to arguments about whether human remains constitute an object to be used. And if you think that's not an interesting subject, it's only because you haven't thought about the potential application to organ donation. {Thanks to Evangelical Outpost for calling this issue to my attention.}

Now it's time for me to make some rambling generalizations:

In general, it is much too easy for Christians from a specific time and location to assume that their way of approaching an issue through the lens of religion is clearly the right way, the Christian way. Our treatment of the dying and our handling of human remains serves as just one example of an area where our ideas about what constitutes the proper "Christian response" are heavily influenced by our own culture and time, in ways we don't always see. It's as if, because we belong to a Christian subculture, we assume that the way our subculture handles a specific issue must be the Christian way. Even when we are aware of much we are shaped by our own culture or tradition, it may be hard to avoid the initial gut reactions that say "that's just wrong" or "that's an unChristian way of handling that issue."

A similar thing happens in marriage, as Wolgemuth, Wolgemuth, Devries and Devries demonstrate: each partner enters the marriage with certain daily living patterns, ways of doing things which appear to be the right or normal way. Even when spouses theoretically know that their way of doing things is not, objectively, the only right way of doing something, it is very hard to see alternate approaches as anything but wrong. The authors of The Most Important Year in Every Man's Life/The Most Important Year in Every Woman's Life call these expectations about what to do and how to live "normals." We all have normals, and in general, we all tend to (mistakenly) assume that our normals are right, and that they are shared by our whole society. Part of learning how to be married means learning how to negotiate a new set of normals. This includes learning how to recognize the difference between normals (ways of doing things) and morals (guidelines on how to act rightly). Sometimes the two look very similar. Even when the difference is clear, though, it can be very, very hard to let go of your own normals.

Likewise, I'd argue that an important part of interchurch communication is learning to recognize which "religious normals" are actually moral or doctrinal issues, and which are merely different approaches to the same issue. Not all differences are created equal. But, as in marriage, it can be very hard to admit that someone else's religious normal may not actually be wrong. "Lord, help me recognize the limits of my normals!" might be as good a prayer for conversation between Christians of different communities as it would be for married couples.

What Have I Got in My Pantry?

2006-07-27T13:34:00.000-04:00

Today we're going to play a culinary game. I call it: What Have I Got in My Pantry? Here's how you play:

1) Realize that it is your turn to cook dinner, and that you have nothing planned, aside from having a piece of meat in the refrigerator.

2) Poke around in your cupboards and refrigerator in search of ingredients that are, alas, not there, because you forgot to add them to your grocery list.

3) Keep a mental inventory of what IS there, and devise a cunning plan for using these ingredients, to-wit:

4) Throw a bunch of random ingredients, along with chopped up meat, into your slow cooker. Add some basic seasonings. Cook until dinner time, in the hope that it will have magically morphed into something edible.

In my case, I had intended to make my Mushroomified Swiss Steak again, using some simmering steak that I had taken out of the freezer the night before. However, I didn't have Cream of Mushroom soup, nor Cream of Celery, which might have worked in a pinch. I had, in fact, Cream of Nothing.

I did, however, uncover a large number of canned mushrooms and quite a bit of sphagetti sauce, so I resolved to make a pasta sauce with steaky goodness. Here's what I found to throw into the pot:

From the refrigerator shelves:
- that pound or so of simmering steak, which I then cut into bitish-sized pieces.
- half a jar of Newman's Own tomato basil pasta sauce
- minced garlic (there's always room for garlic)
- about half of a cup of chardonnay, from an opened bottle that had been sitting in the refrigerator for weeks. (I had to have some liquid to extend the jar of pasta sauce, and I didn't really want to drink that wine.)

From the crisper drawer:
- a quarter of a large red onion, which I diced. There was actually half an onion, peeled and waiting to be chopped, but as this was a huge onion, I figured 1/4 would do
- half of a yellow bell pepper, which I then chopped into pieces. I don't normally put peppers in my pasta sauce, but why not? It was already there, waiting to be used.

From the cupboards:
- a can of sliced mushrooms
- a hearty sprinkling of dried basil and oregano, plus a lighter dash of salt and pepper

It's all cooking on high now in my smallest crockpot (which is a perfect size for small meals like this, by the way. I heartily recommend the small size to childless couples). I'll lower the temperature to low in an hour or two, but starting off on high will help ensure that the meat, which was still a bit frosty in the middle, gets cooked quickly enough. I plan to serve it on our usual whole grain spaghetti, with spinach and possibly Texas Toast on the side. That's a fairly typical meal for the Tulip household. . . it's just that such meals are usually planned in advance rather than thrown together from leftovers.

Will the meal turn out well? Your guess is as good as mine. . . expect an update later.

Promised update: the sauce turned out to be so-so. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't outstandingly great, either. As my mother might say, though, it beat starving.

Angels, Demons, and Bad Fiction

2006-07-26T12:33:00.000-04:00

The Christian publishing market is a rapidly growing one, so they say. I am particularly pleased to note that in the wake of the Tolkien-Lewis revival (and, dare I suggest, the wake of Pottermania?) Christians have finally begun writing fantasy novels: you can find many of them at Edenstar Books. Forgive me if I've mentioned this before: as a fantasy fan, I am very happy to spread the news about this store. To tell the truth, I still feel that secular fantasy is generally of better quality than Christian fantasy, but it seems to me that some of the more recent books are improving in quality. Ted Dekker's White, Red, and Black trilogy is a fine example.

There are also Christian thrillers available, though the "thrillers" still tend to be Peretti-esque spiritual warfare, in which angels and demons fight invisible battles. I used to think this entire genre was passe and perhaps even dangerous, in as much as the "life" of the angels doesn't seem to accord with what has been revealed about them. Angels in the Bible sometimes look human, but they also (famously) look quite bizarre. Where are the many-eyed seraphim with wheels in the Spiritual warfare books? And what kind of angelology is being promoted, when all these fictional angels do is fight? One might gather, from other parts of the Bible, that the primary task of angels is to worship God, rather than to do battle. Admittedly, some spiritual warfare books do make mention of the time angels spend "before the throne" in adoration, but this almost always takes place off-stage, and it never seems central to their work.

Recently, however, I read Wormwood, a book in which the angel Raphael actually walks around as "God's assassin," killing human beings, and I realized that the Peretti-esque treatment of angels may in fact be much safer than the alternatives. Somehow, Taylor's Raphael did not at all strike me as a minister of God's healing.

For those who want to read about the adventures of Raphael in a less violent text, I recommend the book of Tobit. The Raphael found in Tobit has very little resemblance to the Raphael of Wormwood. Raphael in Tobit is a friendly, helpful chap with a sense of humor, who likes to make puns. He is also a healer and a matchmaker, who manages to talk Tobias into falling in love with his cousin Sarah before even meeting her. Indeed, a large part of Raphael's mission is making sure that poor Sarah is actually able to consummate her marriage, instead of having her husband killed on the wedding night. True, the tale has its Peretti moments, in that getting Tobias and Sarah together involves capturing and binding the evil demon which is in love with Sarah, but curiously, Raphael does not do this on his own. He gets Tobias to help him, through the use of a stinky fish. (What, you mean humans can assist angels through more than just providing "prayer cover"? No way!) Once Tobias expells the demon, Raphael is able to bind it. And then Tobias and Sarah are able to. . . well, let's just say that they do what young people are supposed to do on their wedding night.

Come to think of it, there could be a very interesting Christian "fantasy" novel to be written based on the book of Tobit. I grant that not all Christians consider the book to be inspired or canonical, but one can hardly deny that it's a good story. It's got everything readers could want: romance, suspense, an evil demon, a good angel, a faithful pet dog, and a happy ending. Sounds more fun than my dissertation, anyway. . . you think Zondervan might be interested?

Whether I could actually write a sustained work of fiction in a readable style is something I don't know, but I think I can guarantee that my angel novel wouldn't be full of comma splices!

Fairwell, My Beloved Crockpot

2006-07-24T00:22:00.000-04:00

Dearly Beloved, we are gathered to day to mourn the loss of Teresa's medium-sized slow cooker lid. It plummeted violently off of the kitchen counter (so the report goes) and was brutally shattered on the kitchen floor.

The lid, affectionately known to its friends as "Chippy," left behind a widow: an aging crockery cooker of a beige color. The appliance is approximately 30 years old, and is of a generic name (not that there's anything wrong with that), rendering it unlikely that it will be able to find another match as felicitous as the one so unexpectedly broken. Indeed, we anticipate that the pot will go out with the garbage. We hope it will be reuinited with "Chippy" in the great Landfill hereafter.

And in the meantime, the "Tulips" are left without a medium-sized slow cooker. Alas, what are we to do? For the medium sized slow cooker, as all wise cooks know, is the most useful and versatile size, capable of handling recipes which would tax the capacity of a 1 1/2 quart model, without burning them the way a 5 quart model would. Truly, this is a household bereft.

But life goes on, as we know from the Beatles. Already Teresa is making a list of the features she desires in her next slow-cooker relationship. They include:

* removable, dishwasher safe liner

* three settings: high, low, and "warm"

* lid and handles that are cool to the touch, thus obviating the need for an oven mitt.

* brand with a reputation for reliability

* moderate cost

* colors less hideous than those of the seventies models

The last point will, undoubtedly, be easy to satisfy, but will Teresa be able to find a medium-sized slow cooker than meets all of the other qualifications? Tune in next time to learn which model she has selected! And remember: glass lids are delicate creatures. They demand to be treated with tenderness and respect, particularly if they belong to models no longer manufactured. If this message can prevent the fracture of only one slow-cooker lid, Chippy's life will not be in vain.

(We invite fellow mourners to share their fond memories of Chippy in the comment box.)

Theology and Mystery: Laurie R. King

2006-07-10T13:19:00.000-04:00

Some time ago I began dropping bizarre hints about a series of books I was reading: mystery novels which dealt with theological themes. Since no one solved my Mysterious Challenge, I've decided to reveal the author and series.

The author is Laurie R. King, an award-winning California novelist. The series that introduced me to King was the Mary Russell series. I'd imagine that to most mystery readers, the Mary Russell books are of interest because they include Sherlock Holmes as a main secondary character. King would be quick to deny that these are "Sherlock Holmes" mysteries, and her writing style reinforces the fact that these are really Mary's storires: most of the books have been written from the first person perspective of Mary. Interestingly, the most recent novel, Locked Rooms, includes third person sections which reveal Holmes' perspective. I'm not sure yet how I feel about this change: I rather prefer Mary's POV. However, I suspect there are plenty of Holmes-fans who would welcome more glimpses from his eyes.

I find the inclusion of Holmes to be entertaining and at times intriguing. Holmes serves as a link between post-WWI England (most novels take place in the 20's) and the Victorian era. Through her connection to Holmes, Mary encounters real-life Victorians such as Sabine Baring-Gould, and to fictional characters such as Rudyard Kipling's Kim. Both Justice Hall and The Moor create a strong sense of connection to a rich past. In The Moor (unquestionably my favorite in the series), the past is seen as fading, as Baring-Gould nears the end of a very long life. Justice Hall, however, offers a good deal of promise for the future of an ancient family. All of which is to say that the time period of these historical novels is deeply appealing, because, as a time of transition, it enables King to explore both the nineteenth-century (primarily through the presence of those who lived most of their life in that century, but also through the strong physical presence of nineteenth-century buildings, from cottages to mansions) and the twentieth.

However, that's not the reason I'm blogging about Laurie King. I'm recommending her to my readers foremostly because she is a trained scholar of religion, and her study of religion visibly influences her work. Mary Russell is herself a theologian, while Anne Waverly of A Darker Place is an academic specializing in "cults" - not that Waverly would endorse that term. These books are not Christian mysteries along the lines of G.K. Chesterton or Debra Murphy, but they are deeply concerned with theology and morality. That's something one rarely finds in the world of secular fiction, and it's something I'd like to support.

Those interested in King on account of her use of religion in her novels start by reading this section of her homepage. And if your time allows it, I do recommend picking up one of the Mary Russell mysteries. If nothing else, they have the merit of being very well-written. Would that all great plotters were also good stylists! All in all, King is a treat.

Mushroomified Swiss Steak

2006-06-28T18:45:00.000-04:00

I'm out of town, but I don't want my poor blog to feel utterly neglected, so here's a simple crockpot recipe. This is adapted from Wendy Louise's Complete Crockery Cookbook. My "special" ingredient is fresh (not canned) mushroom. Truly, we ought all to be grateful that the fungus are among us! The seasonings are the other alteration: I like garlic and add it to most recipes, while the addition of Worchestershire sauce was a gift from the muses, adding a bit of "bite" to what might otherwise be a bland dish.

Ingredients:
~ 2- 3 lbs round steak or other boneless steak suitable for simmering (often, these steaks will actually be labelled for simmering)
1 can of cream of mushroom soup
1 large onion, sliced
1 cup of fresh sliced mushrooms
1 tablespoon Worchestershire sauce
1 teaspoon minced garlic
salt and pepper to taste

Directions:
1) Slice the onion.
2) Salt and pepper the steak; you may use salt lightly or use a salt substitute if you are trying for a healthier meal.
3) Layer the onions and steak together, so that steak is surrounded on all sides by onion slices.
4) Sprinkle with minced garlic and Worchestershire sauce.
5) Pour the cream of mushroom soup on top of everything. Cover, and cook on low for approximately 6 hours.
6) Add the cup of mushroom. Give everything a nice stir if you like. Continue to cook on low for another 2 hours.

Serves 4. This is a nice "saucy" steak and the mushroom-rich gravy may go well with your favorite starches, so serve with rice, potatoes, noodles, or other such dish.

Literary Anti-Catholicism: The Problem with Kingsley

2006-06-16T15:06:00.000-04:00

Note: I began composing this message some weeks ago; its composition has been interrupted.

In a previous post, I discussed apologetics and anti-Catholicism. Here I want to focus on a second form of anti-Catholicism which is more subtle and probably more common. It manifests itself in negative images of or generalizations about Catholicism in the media. Today, this form of anti-Catholicism most often comes not from other Christians, but from secular or progressive religious sources. People who are much too enlightened to make anti-Semitic comments may still make slurs against the Catholic priesthood. I won't go into this issue in detail either, because there are whole books on it.

A hundred years ago, however, this kind of pop-culture anti-Catholicism tended to come from other Christians: liberal Christians, conservative Christians, you name it. You can find it in quite a lot of nineteenth-century literature, even the "canonical" literature that makes into the academy. Charlotte Bronte's Villette is one of the best examples. Though the worst of the anti-Catholic literature was published by fringe Protestant presses and distributed among religious communities, even mainstream writers like Wilkie Collins weren't adverse to writing anti-Catholic novels. For more information on this subject, I recommend Susan Griffin's Anti-Catholicism and Nineteenth-Century Fiction, which (most unusually) covers both British and American literature of the nineteenth century.

Here I want to talk about a single author: Charles Kingsley, a nearly-forgotten Broad Church clergyman, who served as chaplain to Queen Victoria. Students of nineteenth-century religious history may know him as the man who gratuitously insulted John Henry Newman in one of his book reviews, thus prompting the writing of his authobiography/ conversion story, the Apologia Pro Vita Sua. Kingsley was brought to my attention through this list of children's books. It's a good list on the whole. Many of these are classic children's books. Others are long-forgotten classics. I was pleased to see Charles Kingsley making an appearance, but the choice of book surprised me: it wasn't Waterbabies, his one famous children's book, but Westward Ho!

Westward Ho! is an adventure story for boys. It's a tale of chivalry, fidelity to one's promises, and explorations of new lands. It is also a story about the Spanish Armada and the threat Catholic Spain posed to Protestant England. In Westward Ho! the villains are mostly Catholic and the heroes are mostly Protestant. The novel is, even more specifically, anti-Jesuit, and the worst of the villains are Jesuit priests. There are a few token "good Catholics," but the depiction of some of the Jesuit characters reflects 19th century prejudice against Catholics in general and Jesuits in particularly as lying, conniving, and treasonous. Edmund Campion, recognized by Catholics as a martyr, is depicted by Kingsley as a sneaking coward, who happens to be just not quite as bad as Father Robert Parsons, Kingsley's standard of Jesuit trickery.

One may argue that Westward Ho! is not truly anti-Catholic, because the hero eventually comes to respect his arch-enemy, the good Catholic Don Guzman. However, if the ending argues for tolerance for "good Catholics", there is no tolerance offered for the Jesuit order, and Kingsley never repudiates the stereotypes he employs. In the 19th century, the book would have served simply to fan the already-existing anti-Jesuit sentiments. Today, I suspect the anti-Jesuit stereotypes serve to confuse children unfamiliar with the context of the book's writing. My question of this: is it really wise to recommend a work of anti-Catholic propoganda to Christian children today?

I can see ways in which a book like Westward Ho! could be profitably read by intelligent teenage or even pre-teen children, with instruction, guideance, and correction offered on the part of a parent or teacher. I could not, however, recommend that it simply be handed to a young adult reader who has no understanding of its historical misreprentations or of the complicated reasons for them. Its presence on a list of recommended children's literature thus signals to me the lack of awareness most people -even most Christians- have in regard to literary anti-Catholicism. We've gotten very good at noticing racial misrepresentations in literature. Though such concern can be carried too far, we should also be careful that we carry it far enough. Books like Westward Ho! were designed to teach as truths things which are actually false. Surely this is something the Christian reader should be aware of?

On the Nature of Anti-Catholicism

2006-06-16T14:24:00.000-04:00

Anti-Catholicism is a word used quite often in Catholic apologetic circles. I'd like to argue (briefly) that it is actually misused quite often. Some defensive Catholics like to say that opponent is "anti-Catholic" simply because he/she disagrees with Catholic doctrine or is opposed to Catholic practice. Others restrict the term "anti-Catholic" to those who disagree with Catholicism and make a point of undermining Catholicism through "sheep stealing," apologetics oriented against Catholic doctrine, critiquing the Catholic Church, etc.

I'd like to remind fellow Catholics that it is not "anti-Catholic" to disagree with Catholic teaching. People have a right to their own beliefs, after all. Nor is it anti-Catholic to try to convert Catholics or to disprove Catholicism: it is only natural for people who believe strongly to want to spread their beliefs. It may be tactless or uncharitable to proselytize in the wrong setting or in the wrong manner. It may be unecumenical to assert one's opinion in a way which unnecessarily hinders Christian unity. But these things are not (or not necessarily) anti-Catholic.

It is, however, anti-Catholic to deliberately spread false information about Catholicism. This may mean that people who spread rumors about Catholicism without adequately researching them are guilty of anti-Catholicism by default. Thus, I believe that Jack Chick is genuinely anti-Catholic, his protests to the contrary. He prints falsehoods and slanders, and he has no excuse for his ignorance. There are plenty of other "ministries" guilty of passing on misinformation of this sort, usually in less stupid forms. When one encounters them, I think the best response is not to immediately say "hey! you're anti-Catholic! you're so evil!" but to offer fraternal correction. Only if an organization demonstrates that it is not willing to listen to such correction and to rectify any errors in its materials should it be labeled anti-Catholic.

It is also anti-Catholic to mock Catholicism or Catholic beliefs out of a spirit of malice or arrogance. Sometimes people who do these things have mixed motives: that's part of life. A specific individual may believe that he is poking fun at Catholicism only for the "educational" purpose of proving its supposed fallacies, while in reality part of his motivation is a desire to humiliate or pain. In other words, people may make anti-Catholic statements "in good faith" to the extent that they aren't aware of their sinful motives. It's still the responsibility of other Christians to question those motives if there appears to be malice involved. The same thing applies to Catholic bloggers, writers, cartoons, or speakers, of course: we too should examine ourselves to make sure that when we say unflattering things about fellow Christians, we say nothing more than what the situation calls for, and we are speaking out of charity, not the desire to hurt, mock, or humiliate.

At this point, you may be wondering: where is Teresa going with this? Is she going to label someone anti-Catholic? No, I'm not. At least, not someone alive today. I wanted to bring up the issue of "doctrinal anti-Catholicism" in order to say that I think this form of anti-Catholicism, though it may be the most damaging, is also the easiest to combat. Yes, there are many Catholics whose faith has been troubled by misinformation given to them by well-meaning Protestant Christians. But there are also many people out there offering correctives to such misinformation. For example, one can hand the victim of sheep stealing attempts a copy of Alan Schreck's excellent book, Catholic and Christian. Heck, one can go better and hand such books out to the sheep stealers themselves. And there are plenty of other such resources available. (For the record: "sheep stealing," as I use it, does not refer to all attempts to encourage someone to leave one religious body and join another. It refers, rather, to unfair practices, such as making use of another persons ignorance of his or her own church.)

There are, however, fewer resources available to help people to respond to popular anti-Catholicism, which may crop up in the most unexpected places. In my next post, I'll give an example of this problem, and explain why I think it should be of concern to all Christians.

Let's keep the "feminine" in "Feminist!"

2006-06-15T11:16:00.000-04:00

I get some unusual catalogs in the mail from time to time. For example, there was a while when I kept getting catalog for expensive wooden children's toys. As many of my readers know, I do not have children. (If I did, would I have time to blog about something as stupid as what this entry is about? Answer: no.) However, I've ordered gifts for other people's children a few times, and that's enough, apparently, to put me on mailing lists for children's products for the rest of my life. As if I could buy a $300 play castle anyway! (Heck, if I could buy something that cool, do you think I'd want to share it with anyone?)

In the past, I have also ordered a few items from a store that offers New Age supplies. Before my readers gasp in shock, let me explain that the items in question were beautiful pewter candleholders with a Celtic cross design, and accompanying rings that fit on the candles. I could not have gotten these products from a Chrsitian dealer, because Christians don't have good taste. (Step into a Catholic gift store, if you don't believe me. And don't say I didn't warn you.) Neo-pagans, however, sometimes show quite excellent taste in apparel, home furnishings, and costumes: they love Celtic knot designs, medieval design, and natural gemstones. (Let's not saying anything about the nauseating fairy motif, though.) That's why, though I don't tend to buy things from the Pyramid Collection catalog, I enjoy looking through it. Though I know that I would not look good in the "Midnight at the Palace" dress, I like to pretend that I would. And even if I'd never buy these clothes, I enjoy the assurance that there are other people who want to dress up in clothing out of a sword-and-sorcery novel.

Apparently, my fellow fans of fantasy clothing, belly dancing, and Celtic knot design also like bloomers, which they claim are making a "triumphant return." Well, let's leave aside potential objections along the lines of "the fact that you can buy bloomers in the Pyramid Collection doesn't indicate that they are making a triumphant return." Let's look instead at this claim, namely, that "this invention of reformer Amelia Bloomer makes its triumphant return -with placekted, pleated front, delicately embroidered with faux pearl-accented irises to preserve the feminine in "feminism!"

Wow! Did you know that all it takes to presever the feminine in feminism is little faux pearl-accented irises? I sure didn't! But seriously, folks . . . I actually think there is something very interesting going on in the catalog's marketing of this clothing item. The description of the bloomers begins by highlighting that these garments have a feminist history -which they most certainly do- but then it goes on to stress how frilly they are. "Come for the politics, stay for the ruffles," the garment screams. And you know what? Leaving aside questions of just whose side the suffragettes of old would be on if magically transported to the political spectrum of today, I think that' s a good message. One can be a strong woman while also liking embroidery and ribbons. Apparently there are a lot of women who agree with me: all sizes of the bloomers are currently sold out until July or August. America must be full of women who are as proud of their feminine beauty as they are of their girl power.

Either that, or bloomers really are making a triumphant return, and I'm just behind the time in fashion, as usual.

NFP Infighting

2006-06-09T11:39:00.000-04:00

Ah, lovely. Just when we've recovered from Torodes' surprise recantation of their views in Open Embrace, there's a new document from the Vatican on the subject of "Family and Human Procreation." Sadly, the document itself is not currently available. All we have are various articles on the subject. But we all trust the media to represent ecclesiastical proceedings correctly, right?

I thought not. If you're curious about the document, see this article from Catholic News Service. I'm trying to refrain from extensive commentary at this time, since I don't, in fact, know what the document in question really says. I can say right now that it's already controversial. Over at Amy Welborn's blog, her mention of this document somehow sparked a debate about how the Church responds to IVF. Elsewhere -on message boards and discussion groups- I've seen a lot of dialog about this quote from the CNS article:

However, using natural family planning to have only one or a maximum of two children "is nothing other than a kind of series of brief parentheses within an entire conjugal life willingly made sterile," it said.

I'd really like to see that quote in context. As it stands alone, it seems rather extremely worded to me, but of course, it wasn't meant to stand alone. I fear that that won't stop people from latching onto it and using it either as evidence that the Catholic Church is hopelessly behind the times (or, in another variation, maliciously intrusively into the private life of families) or as evidence that most NFP users are really contraceptors in denial, and that any Catholic family worth its salt will have ten children.

Of course, people say those things anyway. When I began reading blogs for the first time, one of the things which most surprised me was just how polarized views on NFP are, even within the community of faithful Catholics who endorse Catholic sexual ethics. Let's face it, that community is pretty small: most Catholics ignore their Church's teachings. To me, that makes it all the stranger that nearly every debate on NFP I've seen on Catholic blogs has elicited comments claiming such things as:

1) NFP is only for cases involve extreme poverty or mortal illness. (most common error)
2) There are many many people who misuse NFP, and it's a serious problem in Catholicism.
3) You have to get a dispensation from your priest to use NFP.

For the record, I know #1 and #3 to be definitely false. Personally, I think that #2 is false, too. The fact is that most Catholics don't use NFP, period. Of those that do, some may be using it selfishly or with an incorrect understanding, but I hardly think that that tiny percentage of NFP users with a "contraceptive mentality" is the real problem. The problem is, first, that the majority of Catholics don't even understand their Church's teaching well enough to offer informed dissent; and second, that Catholics in developed countries are confused about the obedience required by them.

Enough about that. In any event, I predict a new round of NFP infighting over the announcement of this document. Put your goggles on, people: it might get ugly. There's nothing quite like a gaggle of dogmatic-minded folks who all believe that the official Church documents say exactly what they're saying. . . and anyone who reads them differently is an idiot or a Modernist or a Radtrad.*

But hey, they'll know we are Christians by our love, right?

* I know this thinking all too well, because I slip into it all the time in NFP debates. "Oh those stupid ____. If they had bothered to read the Address to Midwives they'd KNOW that grave reasons aren't just limited to life-threatening problems!"

Literary Borrowings

2006-06-04T16:39:00.000-04:00

I recently finished Book Four of the Nameless Mystery Series I'm currently reading in my spare time. I found it it to be the best of the books thus far, perhaps because the rural setting appealed to me more than the seedy city life settings of the previous two books. Too, it may have helped that the "atmosphere" of the book was the spooky atmosphere of a ghost story or a dark fairy tale, and we all know that I like spooky stories.

Before I move on to Book Five (hey, it is the weekend! Sunday is a prime day for reading books I can't justify reading during "working hours"), I wanted to comment on the authors' inclusion of real life individuals and, perhaps most intriguingly, other people's literary characters. Book Four of the series centers around a real chap, a collector of folk songs, an antiquarian, and a writer of hymns, including "Onward Christian Soldiers." Book Three of the series, perhaps even more intriguingly, introduces a cameo appearance by Lord Peter Wimsey. He isn't named fully: he's simply called Peter. His description, however, as a man with a "foolish, slightly lopsided face" who wears a monocle, plays the piano, and collects first editions, is a give-away to Dorothy Sayers fans. But since he's never even called "Lord Peter," I doubt that one who hadn't cracked open a Wimsey mystery would recognize him. (As a result, I found myself wondering if I were missing references to real or fictional characters simply due to lack of familiarity with the relevant literature. I guess I'll never know.)

While I appreciate the nod to Sayers, I do wonder about the literary ethics of incorporating another author's character into a modern work of fiction. I don't mean the copyright issues, either: I mean the issue of respect due to another's creation. It must be a delicate business. A good author would have to avoid the pitfall of turning a "living" character into a caricature or shadow of its former self, but the causing the character to develop in unlikely or unreasonable directions is also just as problematic. This is part of why sequels to classic books flounder so often. Much as I enjoyed Carrie Bebris' Pride and Prescience and Suspense and Sensibility, I didn't think that the protagonists of either book really resembled Austen's Elizabeth and Darcy. Part of this may simply be due to the difficulty of Austen's style: Bebris tried to make her Darcy wittily snobbish, but his "wit" came across as decidedly flat all too often. I might recommend these books to admirers of Wrede and Stevermer's regency fantasies, but not to Austen purists.

The Jane Austen mysteries of Stephanie Barron may be more successful ultimately not just because Barron is a better writer, but because Austen as a person is not as familiar to most of her readers as her characters are. Apparently it is easier to get away with a recreation of a real person as a character than it is to make use of another person's fictional character. That itself is rather strange, isn't it? One would not think that art imitating life was easier than art imitating art. Moreover, one would think that the moral difficulties of depicting a real person in fictional events would be trickier than whatever artistic ethics surround the use of others' characters. Indeed, I recall a course from my undergraduate days in which a fellow student complained against Truman Capote's capitalizing off the lives of the criminals and the sufferings of the Clutter family in In Cold Blood. The fact that most of the people involved were dead at the time of writing did not seem to mitigate what my fellow-student saw as irresponsible use of others' lives. At the time, I thought he was being too conscientious, since, if the publishing world adhered to his vies, historical fiction could never exist. I still think that he was extreme, but I must concede that the issue was more complicated than I was willing to grant at the time.

I don't have any guidelines to lay down about how fiction should or should not make use of real people as characters. Nor do I have any suggestions as to how to make use of another person's intellectual property with both respect and creativity. But I do think that these are both real "problems" of which readers ought to be aware. In short, let me end with a plea: please, oh mystery readers (if there be any among ye reading), support responsible use of intellectual property! Thank you, and good night.

P.S: If anyone can guess the Nameless Mystery Series from what I've said above, let me know- thus far, no one has responded to my Mysterious Challange. It's really a pity, as I think this series is worth reading. The author and narrators' theologies (assuming they are at all related)may be wrong, but the very fact that the author and characters have theologies may be refreshing to "readers of faith."

After the Pizza is Gone. . .

2006-06-02T16:27:00.000-04:00

. . . you may be left with extra toppings and sauces, with which you know not what to do. I still haven't figured out what to do with that half-jar of alfredo sauce myself, either. However, the last time I made pizza, I made only one of the best-ever white pizzas, using the other crust to make my traditional tomato-pesto pizza. For this pizza, I used a standard spaghetti sauce with a layer of pesto-and-sundried tomatos for a base. The toppings included roma tomatos, but as usual I misjudged my produce needs, and was left with two tomatoes. Today's meal incorporates these tomotoes in addition to the remaining spaghetti sauce, mushrooms, and chopped onions.

Pork Chops for Two

Note: this recipe is for a small slow cooker of the 1.5-2 gallon size range. It may not cook properly in a larger cooker.

Ingredients:
3-4 small thin pork chops, the type used for pan frying
~ 1 cup spaghetti sauce; more or less as desired
1/4 cup chopped onion
2 roma tomatoes, diced
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1/2 teaspoon each oregano and basil
dash of salt and pepper to taste.
grated parmesan cheese (optional)

Directions:
1) Spray the lining of the slow-cooker crock with cooking spray, if desired. Place the pork chops in the pot.
2) Pour the spaghetti sauce over the chops.
3) Add the onions, garlic, and tomatoes. Cook on HIGH for 2-3 hours.
4) Add the oregano, basil, salt and pepper. Continue cooking on high for 1-2 hours. You may add grated parmesan to the dish towards the end of the cooking, if desired.

Accompaniments:

1) Prepare whole wheat fettucini or other pasta as directed. When the pasta is cooked, coat thoroughly with pesto, olive oil, or another favorite sauce. Serve beside or beneath the main dish.
2) Heat a loaf of Italian bread, breaksticks, or foccacia bread on the side, if more carbohydrates are desired.
3) Serve with salad, green beans, or spinach. (If you have spinach leftover from making a white pizza, this is a great time to use it. Sadly, we had to throw ours out because it had wilted.)
4) Have a bottle of your favorite wine, and put some nice violin music on in the background.

Vows, Pizza, and A Mysterious Challenge

2006-06-01T11:58:00.000-04:00

What constitutes a binding vow? How do you know when you've taken a vow? Are there ever vows so frivolous that one can break them? These are all weighty issues, and I'm not going to try to answer any of them. When do I ever answer my rhetorical questions? (Answer: never, excpet for moments like this.) However, I bring these questions up to explain that I spent all day yesterday reading a mystery novel. Actually, I read two novels: one that I had started the day before yesterday, and which had to be finished, and one which I started yesterday just before supper and finished around two a.m. I had to finish the second book to see if the protagonists were going to marry each other at the end. (They did.)

I do have more important things to do with my time than reading mysteries, even mysteries which incorporate a running thread of feminist theology which is as intriguing as it is silly. However, I so wanted to finish the first mystery yesterday that I made an agreement with myself that I could read mysteries all day on Wednesday, provided that on Thursday I would read nothing but material related to my dissertation. No Jane Austen mysteries, no Father Brown mysteries, no Jane Austen-and-Father Brown mysteries.

Yesterday, this agreement seemed like a great idea. Today it seems like a tragedy. I woke up cranky, sleepy, and with a pulled muscle in my calf which interrupted my new morning routine. I desperately wanted to start the next third mystery in my new-found series, even if it did appear to center on some nonsense about Mary Magdalen. (Very important note: the series to which I refer is NOT written by Dan Brown. But I'm not going to name the author or the book titles. I may instead keep dropping clues about the series -at least until I get tired of it-on the off-chance that one of my readers will recogize the series.) I even went so far as to pick up book number three this morning, but my husband hesitently pointed out that I was breaking my vow-to-self. (Is a vow really a vow if you make it to yourself rather than to God? Surely not!) Then one of the cats -The Cricket cat, to be precise- jumped in my lap and explained in his winning way that he was more important than the book I was holding. I allowed myself to be convinced, and put the book aside.

But that left me trying to figure out how to spend the morning. Exercise was out, on account of my protesting leg. Work was out of the question, because I was still half-asleep. So I decided to turn to this trusty blog. Instead of working on my dissertation, I have now wasted a good quarter of an hour complaining about how much I want to read Mystery #3. But the fun doesn't end here! In order to waste even more time before I start working, I'm going to share with you the world's greatest homemade pizza recipe. Product Disclaimer: "World's Greatest" of course refers only to Teresa's world. Your world may contain better homemade pizza. If so, I congratulate you.

Just for fun, I'm going to put the entire recipe in blue. What are you going to do about THAT, eh?

First, you need to make the crust.

INGREDIENTS:

1 package dry yeast
1 cup of warm -not hot- water (Hot water will kill the yeast.)
2 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon each of garlic, oregano, and basil
1/2 teaspoon spoon
negligable amounts of corn meal

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees; place the rack on the lowest level.

2. Dissolve yeast in warm water in a medium-sized mixing bowl.

3. Stir in the flour, oil, salt and seasonings. Beat with a spoon or, better yet, knead with your hands until thoroughly mixed.

4. Cover the bowl and let the dough rest for 20 minutes.

5. Grease 2 12" pizza pans with more olive oil, then sprinkle liberally with cornmeal.

6. Divide the pizza dough into equal parts and pat each half into a circle on the pizza pans. Note: the dough doesn't have to reach the edge of the pan, so don't worry if it looks as if there isn't enough dough.

7. Bake the crusts for about 10 minutes. If you are baking them at the same time and they do not fit on the same rack, put them on the lowest two racks and switch halfway through baking.

Note: this recipe is adapted from the Betty Crocker pizza crust recipe. Betty also includes instructions for making thick crust pizza. I have not shared these instructions with you because I believe that the thin crust is superior. You, however, are free to turn to the dark side of the pizza if you want. Don't ask for help from me, though: Betty must be your guide.

And now for the toppings!

This recipe is for a delicious "white" pizza. Thus, you will not need pizza sauce or any tomato products in the making of this pizza. You will, however, need:

Some quantity of ready-made alfredo sauce. I recommend Classico creamy alfredo. (You will not use the whole jar, so pick something you're likely to use in the future.)

1 bag (at least 8 oz.) of mozzerella

About 1 cup of shredded -not grated- parmesan, or parmesan mixture. Kraft 3 cheese shredded parmesan, romano, and asiago mixture works well. Use fresh, grated-yourself cheese if you are a food snob.

1-2 tablespoon minced garlic

Additional Toppings of Your Choice. I recommend:

Diced onion

Spinach (Please believe me when I say that this is unbelievably good on white pizza. If that sentence seems contradictory, remember that all things are possible with God.)

Sliced mushrooms

Bits of Cooked Bacon

Chopped cooked chicken breast

Directions:

1. Spread the pizza crusts with the alfredo sauce. This sauce is thinner and more runny than the usual pizza sauce, so you will not need as much of it as you might expect. Just a couple of tablespoons per pizza should be enough.

2. When the pizzas are sauced up to your liking, sprinkle or spread each pizza with about 1 teaspoon of minced garlic. If you are not a garlic fan, reduce it to 1/2 teaspoon per pizza.

3. I STRONGLY recommend adding a layer of fresh (cleaned) spinach leaves at this point. Don't be afraid to use quite a bit.

4. Regardless of whether you are following my advice in step 3, add whatever additional toppings you desire.

5. Add mozzerella cheese. Use some common sense here: about one cup of cheese is probably enough per pizza, but you may prefer more or less.

6. Top with 1/2 cup of the parmesan or parmesan mixture per pizza. Again, use your own judgement: you may prefer more or less.

7. Bake each pizza on the medium rack of a 425 degree oven for 10-12 minutes. Remove when the cheese is just starting to turn golden brown. I recommend baking one at a time -it doesn't really take that long- but if you cook them simultaneously, you should place them on the middle rack and the one just below it, and switch them half-way so that they cook at the same rate. (Another note: Betty says you can freeze one pizza before cooking. Consult the oracle for instructions; I have never tried this. With a pizza-holic like Leopoldtulip in the house, there's never been a need.)

8. Slice and eat your pizza. If you come up with a topping combination that really rocks, do let me know.

The House on the Rock

2006-05-29T10:51:00.000-04:00

Some years ago, I stumbled across this quote from the St. John Vianney, better known as the Cure d'Ars: "A house founded on the Cross will fear neither wind, nor rain, nor storm." It was so striking to me that I made it the motto on a personal webpage.

The house on the cross is, of course, a reference to Matthew 7:24-25: "Every one then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house upon the rock; and the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat upon that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock" (RSV). Vianney, in adapting this Scripture passage, made it clear what the rock was: the cross, the death of Christ. In focusing on the cross as the foundation for life, he established sacrificial love as central to Christian life.

Recently, Pope Benedict XVI gave a "Greeting to Young People" based on that same Scripture passage. Amy Welborn has quoted part of this address at her blog. She focused specifically on the introduction, which spoke of the universal desire for a stable foundation in life. I want to call to my readers' attention a different part of the message: one focusing on what it means to build on the rock of Christ. I liked this paragraph so much that I wanted to adopt part of it as a signature line for message boards. The problem was that I couldn't decide which part could stand alone: I liked the whole thing too much. So I'm sharing it here, instead.

To build on Christ and with Christ means to build on a foundation that is called “crucified love”. It means to build with Someone who, knowing us better than we know ourselves, says to us: “You are precious in my eyes and honoured, and I love you” (Is 43:4). It means to build with Someone, who is always faithful, even when we are lacking in faith, because he cannot deny himself (cf. 2 Tim 2:13). It means to build with Someone who constantly looks down on the wounded heart of man and says: “ I do not condemn you, go and do not sin again” (cf. Jn 8:11). It means to build with Someone who, from the Cross, extends his arms and repeats for all eternity: “O man, I give my life for you because I love you.” In short, building on Christ means basing all your desires, aspirations, dreams, ambitions and plans on his will. It means saying to yourself, to your family, to your friends, to the whole world and, above all to Christ: “Lord, in life I wish to do nothing against you, because you know what is best for me. Only you have the words of eternal life” (cf. Jn 6:68). My friends, do not be afraid to lean on Christ! Long for Christ, as the foundation of your life! Enkindle within you the desire to build your life on him and for him! Because no one who depends on the crucified love of the Incarnate Word can ever lose.

I haven't updated my old webpages in years, and I occasionally think about taking them down permanently. I was a different person then, and I don't know that I have the time or desire to update those pages to show how I've changed. But I still like that quote from the Cure D'Ars. I like to think that this paragraph from Benedict XVI is a connecting link both to who I was seven or eight years ago, and to who I'll be a decade from now. A house founded on the cross need not fear time.

Return of Revenge of the Ghost Entry

2006-05-27T00:39:00.000-04:00

Some of you may recall a series I started about ghosts some time ago. At that time, I fully intended to conclude my series with a discussion of the different reasons there might be for human spirits to come to or linger around earth after death. However, I've decided not to do that, at least not as planned. My original plan was simply to share a list from Peter Kreeft's Angels (And Demons): What do we really know about them? On closer thought, this seemed unwise for three reasons. To-wit:

1) This might constitute plagiarism. I should encourage people to buy the book.

2) Even if it's not theft of someone else's intellectual property, it's silly to spend a post just repeating another author's words. I should just encourage people to get the facts from the book directly.

3) I never finished reading the book anyway, so it's hardly fair to report from it.

I think you'll find that last point to be conclusive. I certainly did. But lest you think that I've gotten lazy in my reading, I want to report on a book which I did finish. (It helped that this book was 99 pages shorter than Kreeft's book. [Did I mention that Kreeft's book is only 148 pages long?]) The book which I did manage to read is Begone, Satan! If you click on the link to the left, you'll see that this book is published not by the conservative but sane Ignatius Press, which published the Kreeft book in question, but by the slightly fanatical and decidedly old-fashioned TAN books. If you are familiar with the world of Catholic publishing, that should give you a hint as to what kind of book this is.

To be fair, I want to make clear that I do very much appreciate the work TAN books does in reprinting some of the classic books of Catholic theology and devotion. Begone, Satan!, however, is not one of those classics. It is badly organized, written in a bizarre overly-pious dialect which sounds as if it came from the eighteenth century (sorry Tulip!), and it leaves unexplained a number of the events it describes.

One the strangest facts of this exorcism was that the woman in question was possessed by the spirit of her dead father, Jacob. That's right, her father possessed her. How can this be? Human beings can't become demons, and only demons possess people. . . right?

Since the book in question was from the 1930s, I thought perhaps an older resource might help me understand it. I turned to the trusty Catholic Encyclopedia in hopes that it would help me solve this dilemma. It did not. I did learn that the word "devil" is actually a synonym for "demon," not just the title of the leader of the demons. And, according to the entry on devils, "it is clearly taught that the Devil and the other demons are spiritual or angelic creatures created by God in a state of innocence, and that they became evil by their own act." So one can't describe a human soul as being literally either a demon or a devil: both terms refer to fallen angels.

My hopes that other articles might clarify the matter were in vain. The article on Exorcism states that "Exorcism is (1) the act of driving out, or warding off, demons, or evil spirits, from persons, places, or things, which are believed to be possessed or infested by them, or are liable to become victims or instruments of their malice; " but it doesn't mention whether the evil spirits are always demonic in nature. I did, however, learn a cool new word: "energumen." It means someone possessed by an evil spirit. Use that word well!

So, I leave you with this mystery: is it in fact possible for a human being to be possessed by the spirit of a deceased human being? This may in fact be a Catholic tradition, but if so, I've only heard of it recently. Perhaps one of my readers will know more?

We do too!! (Or not?)

2006-05-24T22:34:00.000-04:00

Over at Evangelical Outpost, Joe Carter has attempted to demonstrate fallacies of the "Godblog Wars" while also (jokingly) insulting his blogging friends. It's all in good fun, and it's pretty darn funny, even if one doesn't recognize all of the bloggers in question.

He doesn't take a poke any particular Catholic bloggers, but he does make this comment about St. Blog's Parish:

St. Blog’s Parish -- With such numbers on their side you’d think the Catholic wing of the Godblogosphere would be primed to invade on evangelical turf like the Bloods moving in on the Crips (or at least the Sharks invading the space of the Jets). But we hear nary a peep out of them. We could even throw out vicious insults—“The Pope wears a funny hat.”--but they wouldn’t even notice since they don't read our blogs. It’s almost like we don’t exist or something. This apathy toward us may explain why we end up squabbling with each other, rather than with those Christians we might have substantial disagreements with. (By the way, he really does. The Pope. His hat. It’s kinda big and goofy.)

So, on behalf of all the members of St. Blogs, I'd like to take the time to say "We do too read what ya'll write!" After all, I read this post at Evangelical Outpost, didn't I? See, I check that blog quite often! Of course, I generally only skim the Yak Shaving Razor posts to see if there's anything useful, and I just glance at the headlines of the longer entries to see if anything big and important is going down. Oh, but I always read the "Ask Joe" posts. Those crack me up.

Yeah, I admit, I don't really read Protestant blogs that much. (With the new-found exception of Christian Book Reviews. That site rocks!) But who can blame me? Those Evangelical bloggers so seldom talk about anything of interest to me. They talk about their own pastors, and their own church problems, and their own theological nitpicking.

And that's the problem I want to talk about today. When I am only interested in reading blogging by Christians of my own denomination, something is rotten in the great communion of bloggers. Let me begin with me. (The best place to start in any criticism.) Should I be interested in the concerns of other Christians? Heck, yeah! Even if their political infighting has nothing to do with the polity of my Church. Even if I think that the entire doctrinal squabble they are engaging in is totally pointless because both views are founded on a basic misconception. Even if the blogger in question doesn't really care about what I think, because he/she thinks I am in a false church. The very fact that these issues are of concern to other thinking Christians means that they deserve at least a brief moment of attention from me.

What can I say: I am the hypocrite of hypocrites when it comes to grass-roots ecumenism. I think the strength of the Church depends on Christians from all different traditions being willing to talk together, work together, and most importantly, pray together. Do I do any of this? Well, sometimes, in a limited way. I worship at my husband's church each week. I attend an interdenominational fellowship group. I had well-meaning intentions to revive a local ecumenical reading group but, sadly, they fell by the wayside.

In general, I think big and perform small. I start things without following through. You'd think, though, that an easy way to participate in this great communal building of the kingdom (I'd rather not call it a "co-belligerancy," thank you; I think that metaphor is limited) would be for me to take a few minutes each day to read what other Christians are saying. I could resolve to do that here and now, but we all know what happens when I resolve things. Well, ok, I know what happens when I resolve things: they don't happen.

So rather than making a resolution, I'm going to lapse into the subjunctive: wouldn't it be nice if I were familiar with blogs from outside my own tradition? Wouldn't it be nice if, instead of merely recognizing names like The Thinklings, I was familiar with their work? Wouldn't it be nice if I actually understood more of the jokes Joe Carter was making about his fellow bloggers?

But, while we traipse around in the lovely world of the subjunctive, let me suggest this: wouldn't it be nice if more evangelical bloggers mentioned Catholicism in positive ways, rather than arguing about whether or not the Catholic Church was a real church, or whether or not Catholics are real Christians? Wouldn't it be nice if sincere and otherwise charitable defenses of Catholicism didn't ever have to be prefaced by "I hate Rome and her lies, but you're going too far when you say. . ." ?

Enough "wouldn't." How about some other contractions? I can't do anything about the rest of the blogosphere. I'm only a miniscule molecule here, anyway, or whatever the smallest speck in the ecochain is. But I am taking seriously (perhaps more seriously than intended) the charge of isolationism. It may or may not apply my co-religionists and co-bloggers, but it certainly applies to me.

They Stopped Carding Me. . .

2006-05-23T17:51:00.000-04:00

Disclaimer: This message is pointless and depressing. It involves neither a recommendation for something to read or directions for something to eat, and it offers no insightful cultural critique. Truly, it does not meet the Crockery standards. However, this will serve to fill up time until I can finish one of the five or six non-academic books I've been reading sporadically, at which point I may have something interesting to say. There may even be another post about demons!

Recently, I was involved in a conversation with an acquaintance who insisted that 27 was a turning point in a person's life. Once you hit 27, you were on the way down. After 27, you became old. At the time, I felt this was absurd. In retrospect, I think that that youngster of 25 was on to something. Though I don't think that 27 is a concrete marker of age, nor a solid borderline between "young adult" and just plain "adult", I think the years from 27-30 are a transition time.

Apparently, liqour laws agree that there is something unique about 27. Cashiers are required to card anyone under 27, which means that when they look at a person with a bottle of wine, they are supposed to be asking themselves not "Is she over 21?" but rather "Is she 27 or older?" So, for years, I was routinely carded when I tried to buy my wine. I fondly told myself that it was because I look so young.

In the last year or so, however, the cashiers have stopped carding me. Apparently, I finally look my age. I have to admit it when I look in a mirror: there are lines there that didn't use to be there. There's a "set" look to my face that it didn't have in the past. I look. . . not old. . . but not young. I look more like a grown-up, I guess. If only I could convince myself that this was a good thing!

Alas, I'm the nostalgic type. I always think that "the way things used to be" is better. I regret most changes. Though you couldn't pay me enough to get me back into a high school building, there's part of me that secretly longs for a second chance to be an undergraduate. This time, I'd know enough to know which subjects I ought to learn. This time around, I'd know which the best moments were so that I could treasure them. (I doubt, for instance, that I will ever again link arms with a group of friends and sing "We're off to see the Wizard!" as I skip down the sidewalk. There are some things that only an undergraduate can pull off.) This time around, I'd take advantage of more of the activities offered by the Catholic student center, and I wouldn't shy away from the invitations of my InterVarsity friends. I'd be an example of ecumenical outreach.

It all sounds good except for the platitudinous catch-22: it takes maturity to recognize a good opportunity, but maturity can only be gained through missed opportunities. And then there's the other platitude that nostalgia would not be so (bitter) sweet if we actually could go back. We always desire most the things which are most difficult to achieve. (I remember that from my honors intro to psych class! Thanks, Professor K.!) If I could go back to my "care-free college days" with my graduate student sensibilities, I'd hate the experience, precisely because of those sensibilities.

So there we are. Or rather, here I am. 27. Cynical (at the moment) but nostalgic in the most sentimental way possible. And no longer being carded when I buy wine. Look: a new source of nostalgia! Now I can look back in longing on the days when people simply didn't believe that I could possibly be 21. Is that a gain, or a loss?

No Workouts in Heaven, Please!

2006-05-12T12:49:00.000-04:00

Married life has been good to me, if by "good to me" I mean putting meat on by bones, and if by meat I mean "fat." I have gained a good 20-25 pounds in the two years I have been married. (When you are only 4'11", that's a lot of weight to add!) Some of this is probably due to the fact that I eat "real meals" six or seven days a week rather than just two or three days a week. In days of yore, I'd usually have a lean cuisine dinner followed by a Weight Watchers dessert or a bowl of popcorn. Now I have pasta, more pasta, meat, and bread, with a small portion of veggies on the side to appease the Angry Gods of the Food Pyramid. (Oh angry gods, do not strike me down for saying so: remember how much whole wheat I've been eating! Remember the lentils, and be merciful!)

But some of my weight gain is due to the fact that that I'm now ABD. I'm not making this up. When I was in coursework or teaching, I had to walk to and from the parking lot most days a week. That's a lot of walking. Now, I have to walk to and from the mailbox everyday. That's not a lot of walking. I only go on campus once or twice a week, and I generally only walk to one or two places, rather than wandering from building to building.

I also blame my apartment complex. My old complex had lovely trees and sidewalks just made for leisurely walks. I even saw other people walking. I don't see anyone walking at the new place, and the sidewalks are not very inviting. Further, I had two lovely neighborhoods within walking distance of my old complex. Walking several days a week was a pleasure, not a duty or a trial. Here, I have only a cemetary for walking in. I've not yet decided whether to sink that low.

So, in short, I need to lose weight, and I need to lose it in such a way that I can keep it off. I'm not willing to do a crazy fad diet, when anyone can tell at a glance that my problem is not primarly what I eat (though portion size may be a problem), but how much time per day I spend sitting at the computer or the easy chair, reading or writing. What I really need to do is develop a regular exercise regime that I can actually keep up for the rest of my life, depressing as that may sound.

You see, I hate exercise. I heartily agree with the old friend of mine who claimed that it exercise "is the devil." I used to truly believe that eating "sensibly" was all anyone needed to keep a healthy weight. And I thought it worked for me. What I didn't realize was that it only "worked" because I was in the habit of walking a lot. When that sole outlet of exercise was taken away, chaos reigned.

So I caved in and bought some exercise DVDs. Since I have been a long time fan of walking, I decided to give Leslie Sansone's In Home Walking a try. Amazon reviewers said that it was easy. And it was, in fact, easy- at least, the 1 mile walk was easy. Unlike aerobics, these steps were easy to follow. One got the sense that it didn't really matter if you did it "just right." The disk I have even features Christian contemporary music in the background, rather than pop or rock.

Alas, it also features a little cheesiness. Perhaps it's impossible to avoid that entirely on an exercise DVD? Still, one would hope that somehow out there is an in-home exercise program devoid of perky smiles and stupid sayings. This program, though I recommend it, is not that magnum bonum. In fact, because this particular disk is Christian themed, it may have even greater potential for sappacity, inasmuch as Leslie occasionally bursts into commentary on how good God is. "Raise your hands up! Give a hallelujah if you want!" Indeed. What if what you want is to be striken down by a thunderbolt, now, so that you don't have to face the years of exercise? But I digress.

What truly alarmed me was the new heresy which poor Leslie promotes: the idea that there will be workout sessions in Heaven. Workout sessions in Heaven! Surely this is a heresy! For if exercise is the devil, it is tantamount to saying that the devil is in Heaven. And that, we know, cannot be. . . whatever George MacDonald may say to the contrary.

Even if exercise is not literally the devil, we know that it is a result of the Fall. You can't imagine Adam and Eve needing to Walk Away the Pounds, can you? Of course not. And if it is a result of the Fall -required by a corruption of what should have been our perfect nature- exercise will surely not be found in the renewed Earth which will be created for us at the end of time. Before the resurrection, we won't have bodies, so clearly there will be no workout sessions then!

In short, my friends, a new heresy walks the earth, one which confuses evil with good. So please pray for poor Leslie, that her mind may be enlightened. And while you're at it, pray for me, that I may not end up in the perpetual aerobics section of purgatory, for having written this blog.

Conclusion of today's episode

2006-05-05T18:09:00.000-04:00

If you've been following along in today's step-by-step description of my attempt to cook an unfamiliar cut of meat without a real recipe or adequate directions, you've probably been wondering how the meal turned out.

If you look to the left, you'll see the finished product: slow cooked lamb and onions poured over lentils, served in a wide, shallow pasta bowl.

You may ask: was it good? The answer: good enough. It wasn't one of the sort of meal which is surprisingly good, but it wasn't at all bad (as long as one doesn't mind fatty meat. Some people, admittedly, would have hated it). I was particularly pleased with the lentils. They did indeed have more flavor than your run-of-the-mill lentil dish, thanks to being cooked in a rich, seasoned broth.

Perhaps the real question is: would I make it again? The answer is that I might try it again, but I'd do some things differently. For starters, I'd cut the meat up into smaller pieces, and I'd leave out some of the fat, instead of throwing it all into the pot. I might also tinker with the spices. I particularly liked the flavor the paprika gave the meat- maybe it needs more of that, and perhaps some bay leaf, as well. I would also consider cooking the lentils in the pot with the meat, rather than serving them seperately. I think if the lamb were cut into small enough bites, this recipe could make a good, rich stew. Perhaps mediterranean spices would fit the meal better.

In any event, I think the dish turned out fairly well, considering that I was making it up as I went along. I'm sure there's a lesson in there somewhere for aspiring slow cooker cooks, but I, for one, don't know what it is.

ETA: I've discovered that there's another lesson we can learn: too much fat makes for indigestion. If you make this meal, trim as much of the fat off of the meat as you can, and don't use too much of that fatty broth. Otherwise, your stomach may complain.

When I said it wasn't too soupy. . .

2006-05-05T15:44:00.000-04:00

Continued from Earlier

. . . I meant that it wasn't too soupy yet. Here's what the concoction looked at after about 3 hours of cooking. There's lots of lovely broth there. What to do about that?

Fortunately, I had already decided that the main side dish would be lentils, which have the advantge of providing beany vegetable goodness (really: you're supposed to consume dry beans and peas regularly, even if you eat meat) while also working as a rice substitute.

I decided to try preparing 1 cup of lentils in my small round slow cooker, using the broth from the main dish (see above!) for most of the liquid. In the past, using broth from a "soupy" chicken dish has worked well for producing flavorful lentils, and I hope to recreate the same effect today. When I serve the meal, it will probably be in pasta bowls, with a layer of lentils on bottom, followed by the onion and lamb dish. Check back with TheCrockery later to see whether this works!

One hour update

2006-05-05T13:40:00.000-04:00

This is what my "braised-in-a-pot" lamb breast looks like after a little over an hour of cooking. You can see all the fat, can't you? Yes indeed, this is no low-fat dinner. You can also see just how thick a coating of seasonings I added.

The predominant aroma is of red wine, but the meat is starting to give off an appetizing odor. And you've got to love the color contrast of the red onions peeping out from beneath the meat, right?

Thus far, my fears that the mix would become "soupy" have not been realized. I think that means that I won't need to serve the dish over a pasta bowl full of brown rice, which had been one of the possibilities I considered. I'm still not sure, in fact, what side dishes to add. Pasta, perhaps?

On to Part Three!