The Really, Really Last Post for a While...

You know that feeling when you can't leave the house for a trip until you re-check the stove and coffee maker?  No?  Well, anyway, this kind of falls into that category.  I couldn't abandon my little venture for days and days without sharing some very exciting news.  


If all goes according to plan, this blog will soon feature a special actor/director/writer interview.  Depending on the mystery guest's schedule, it will likely appear in late July or early August. 

If all goes well, the hope is to interview a well known figure every month, or so.  With several notable exceptions, I'll be trying to steer clear of writers, as I have a friend with the Catholic Writer's Guild who already does a fine job on those.  


We'll also likely have a book giveaway (possibly one Tristan's Travels plus a title associated with one of the guest's current projects). Giveaway will be open to those following my blog--and, for practicality purposes, only if there are new followers between now and the time of the interview.  Also, it's not open to family or immediate friends, I'm afraid.  More details coming in July.  So, please tell your friends to stop by, "follow," and enjoy.  (I hope.) 

In the meantime, please go have a terrific summer.  Happy 4th!  Now, I'm really leaving...

Spirtual Fidelity & Father Corapi

The other day I wrote an open letter to Father Corapi, which prompted some interesting feedback.  I thought it might be interesting to share an example of some of the strange and incoherent responses my blog has elicited.


"do you recall the gospel, when our lord asked god, 2 take this cup from him, and then he said your will not mine, fr.corapi, is obeying the will of god !!!!!! do you also recall,when our lord said, father forgive them for they know not what they do !!! fr.corapi is doing the same. a lamb 2 the slaughter !!!! and if it was not for ewtn,i would have never heard or seen father."


There's obviously a lot of confusion in this person's mind.  Sometimes in situations like this, the best approach is to simplify or distill the central elements of the discussion in such a way that perhaps it will help readers see it in a new light.  That being the case, let's explore a hypothetical scenario, for example.


Let's say that a married friend comes to you for advice.  He admits that he's been unfaithful with a woman (or women), and he doesn't know what to do.  After speaking with him for a few minutes, you decide to share a piece of your mind.  As a Catholic, you point out the imperative need for him to repent and confess--both to his wife and his priest.  You remind him of the sacred nature of marriage, and that, as one of the Seven Sacraments, the husband and wife are bound to each other for life.


Like the unfaithful husband, the priest who turns his back upon his solemn promise before God and man in the sacrament of holy orders places his soul in peril.  The priest is being unfaithful to his Church and God.


As Al Kresta pointed out in his insightful blog today, excusing a wayward priest by suggesting he's particularly gifted is akin to saying that the Church was holding the man back.  To declare that the man is more important than the Church, however,  is to embark on a pathway heading straight to the morass of moral relativism.  No priest is above the Church just as surely as no husband can disregard his marriage vows as he wishes.  It's time for some obedience and humility here.


Sadly, I'm seeing many otherwise good people contort themselves every which way as they try to excuse or rationalize Father (for how much longer?) Corapi.  The alleged offenses now pale in comparison with the destructive aftermath unleashed by this black sheepdog, as he calls himself.


I pray for Father Corapi, but, at this point, I believe there's an even greater need to pray for those who are being led astray by his words.  One thing seems to be sure, he's not the man we thought he was.


Readers, I'll see you again in a couple weeks, or so.  God bless.

An Open Letter to Father Corapi

I'm filled with sadness over the whole Father Corapi business.  I am sharing an open letter to him here.  For more information on the situation, I'd suggest you visit the collection of commentary at The Pulp.it.

Fr. John Corapi,

Years ago, your words and the clarion call to to live a life of holiness were a great encouragement and ministry to our family when we crossed the Tiber.  The Tiber waters were often rough as we exchanged friends and a comfortable, predictable spiritual life for a new future filled with questions and anxieties.  Your sermons helped to open our hearts to the beauty and majesty of the Catholic Church, reminding us of what it means to follow Christ's voice--even when the voice calls us to hardship.  

Part of what it means to be Catholic is to appreciate that we are part of something much bigger than ourselves.  In short, it's not about us; it's about Him.  As someone who received a letter once from an imprisoned priest, I think I have the tiniest inkling of what you (and other priests and bishops) face in trying times such as these.  

Still, it seems that something within your response and your declaration to leave the priesthood adds credence to your accusers and those vocal critics--the ones saying that they knew this was coming, for instance.   Worst still perhaps, your departure means that priests facing real persecution for preaching the Gospel have one less earthly model to look to for comfort and encouragement.

We are not your fans.  We are fellow followers of Christ in battle for our own spirtual well-being as well as the souls walking beside us each and every day of our lives.  We don't know these people most of the time, but, as C.S. Lewis wrote, each one of these strangers is an immortal soul--destined to spend eternity in one of two places.  Is what's being done to you unfair and unjust?  Perhaps so, but why would you leave the priesthood over mere accusations?  If it is untrue, aren't we called upon to fight untruth with every fiber of our being?  

You seem to be surrendering a battle long-fought.  I would encourage you, instead, to offer the pain up to Christ and His Holy Mother Mary and take up your personal cross to fight the good battle of faith.  If you do so in humility and grace, your brothers and sisters in Christ will welcome you with open arms. 

I pray that the love of God rest with you always.  God bless.

PS.  In a completely different vein, please see the announcement at Tristan's Travels.

A Classy Reprimand

I've never written a blog on the entertainment industry...but, as a guy who sometimes enjoys watching NBC's 30 Rock,  I had to say a few words about Tina Fey's recent reprimand of Tracy Morgan.  While I don't agree with the homosexual lifestyle, and I believe it's wrong, this isn't an excuse to say rude or threatening comments.  That being the case, I feel that Tina's reprimand of Tracy concerning his disturbing statements of late hit a perfect tone between reprimand and humor.  

“I’m glad to hear that Tracy apologized for his comments. Stand-up comics may have the right to “work out” their material in its ugliest and rawest form in front of an audience, but the violent imagery of Tracy’s rant was disturbing to me at a time when homophobic hate crimes continue to be a life-threatening issue for the GLBT Community.

“It also doesn’t line up with the Tracy Morgan I know, who is not a hateful man and is generally much too sleepy and self-centered to ever hurt another person.

“I hope for his sake that Tracy’s apology will be accepted as sincere by his gay and lesbian coworkers at “30 Rock”, without whom Tracy would not have lines to say, clothes to wear, sets to stand on, scene partners to act with, or a printed-out paycheck from accounting to put in his pocket.

“The other producers and I pride ourselves on “30 Rock” being a diverse, safe, and fair workplace.”


By the way, the fact that this post about Tina Fey was preceded by one concerning Sarah Palin is purely coincidental--I think.  :) 

Pet Peeves & Thankfulness

If your weeks are anything like mine, they're chock full o'nuts--and I am not referring to coffee here.  Now, don't get me wrong.  Whether we're talking about flakey people sleeping where they shouldn't (not talking homeless people here, but they might count, too), making noises best avoided in polite company, missing promised appointments, not responding to important messages, swerving directly in front of speeding fire trucks, or the occasional simple dimwit thrown in for good measure, no balanced list of pet peeves is restricted to people.  Take our cat, for instance.  


Being an inside cat, Buttercup's most sacred goal is ESCAPE.  She especially loves it when door to door salespeople come knocking early on Saturdays.  Once she bolts outside, she most often stops in the center of the front lawn and awaits her master's grumbling arrival to airlift her back to the comfortable confines of the indoors--and her kitty toys.  Believe it, or not, there are times when this behavior can present troublesome and inconvenient scenarios.  Sadly, it's difficult (but not altogether impossible) to place a cat on a proper timeout.  Anyway, this is how my cat often finds herself on the pet peeve list. 


The past week has been unusually full of an exciting number of pet peeves, and, sadly, I really can't elaborate here on most of them.  Don't worry, though, because the worst offenders will most likely find themselves in my writing at some future point.  In one form or another, the people who annoy me the most will live on to annoy my protagonists, too.  After all, I want to be fair and balanced about this whole thing called fiction.  Usually, though, I prefer my characters' more colorful solutions to my own non-solutions--i.e. keeping my mouth shut (for the most part anyway).


After a week of challenging people and situations all trying my patience in unique and unpleasant ways, it was nice to spend some quiet time in a park-like setting this weekend as I reflected on the past week's activities.  While things can be difficult, what I'm really struck by is the power of thankfulness.  I'm thankful, for instance, for God's blessings which include a wonderful family and a stable job or two. A strange little dream I had the other night also serves to illustrate another item for which I am thankful.


The dream went along these lines.  I was visiting a new church with someone.  Before taking my seat, I was handed a bowl of extremely fancy and assorted candies.  Coming into the church, I was struck with the movie theater feel of it.  The music was blaring and some kind of a video number was playing on the front screen.  I looked over at my "friend" (actually, no idea who it was) and asked him whether he really could worship there.  He pulled out his bulletin and pointed to the bottom where it read "Fried Chicken Social." Nodding, he observed, "Yes, that's what it's all about, my friend.  That's what it's all about."


So this dream reminds me in a lighthearted way of how good it is to be done with the church-shopping we did as Protestants for about one and a half decades of our marriage.  In short, it's good to be home.  Besides the spiritual meaning of home, there's also the physical place to consider.  In case you might have missed it, I am a very picky guy.  We've lived in humid Kansas and roasting Texas, as well as northern California and northwest Washington State before arriving in Salem, Oregon.  We're happy to have stayed put now in Oregon since 1996.  It's great to finally live in such a wonderful place--an hour, or so, from the mountains or high desert to the east and an hour from the beautiful Pacific Ocean to the west.  The lush green Willamette Valley of western Oregon is hard to beat, and I am very thankful for the opportunity to raise our family in a place we all enjoy so much.    


So, that's my prescription for battling pet peeves: thankfulness.  After all, it's hard to be simultaneously cynical or critical and thankful!

Happy 200th Anniversary, Astoria!

One of my favorite places in Oregon, Astoria on the north coast, celebrates its bicentennial this year.  I've been visiting Astoria (as an adult) as regularly as possible since the late 1990s.  In my May 10th radio interview, I talked about the inspiration the area gave me for elements of Tristan's Travels.  


While many people seem to think of Astoria as a dark and dreary place, my visits often take place on the most beautiful days: brilliant blue skies, cool ocean breezes, and wonderful ocean views.  (If you want to see some good Astoria photos, check out the video trailer for our little "tale of tails."  Several photos are courtesy Oregon photographer Austin Granger.)  So, I hope you can stop by Astoria, Oregon and wish it happy 200th!  It's a great place to visit, and, I imagine, even a better place to stay.

The Old Woman in the Trees

One could say it's been one of those weeks in our neck of the (soggy) woods.  It began with my wife Kimberly being hospitalized last weekend for emergency surgery.  Thankfully, she's doing fine now--and we're all catching-up on sleep after a challenging week.  (It's not as much fun as one might think getting along on two hours of sleep; fortunately I stayed out of new car lots last Saturday.)  


This is going to be a short entry today, but I did want to quickly share a a short story that illustrates...well nothing really, but I wanted to share it anyway.  So, some of my readers know that I work for the State of Oregon as a number cruncher.  Sometimes my work makes it necessary to make personal visits to homes.  These visits can be weird--to say the least.  When I worked for a previous state agency, they were often a little more stressful than today.  Still, anything can happen, and it often does.


Some (undisclosed) time ago, for example, I visited a rural residence.  I parked my state car and, after my standard "safety" pause, I headed for the front door.  I immediately had a strange feeling at this particular home.  This may have had something to do with all the bugs gathered in the area of the front door.  It was the kind of place you felt dirty even standing outside.  I brushed cobwebs from my face and tried to wave away the bugs, slapping a mosquito or two in the process.  I knocked loudly on the front door and noticed that the curtains were not drawn, but the inside of the house was comparatively pitch black.  I could see the top edge of a rocking chair inside, silhouetted by a crack of light from a window to the rear.  


With some uncomfortable curiosity, I noticed the chair begin to rock as if someone was rising out of it, but I couldn't see anyone, and no one came to the door.  Brushing the flying bugs out of my hair, I began to leave one of my standard notices on the front door. It was a couple minutes before I left the notice and turned around to return to my car.  As soon as I had walked a couple steps, however, I noticed an old woman just staring at me from the corner of the house.  I'm not sure how long she'd been standing there quietly watching me, but, all in all, the conversation that followed was not altogether a "comfy" one.  It was also oddly disquieting that she didn't really look at me when I spoke to her, but her eyes seemed to look just beyond or behind me.  Fortunately, at least, no spooky music began to play and no old farmer appeared carrying a shotgun.


Why share this little work-related adventure?  Because, I suppose, it's worth bearing in mind that we're not really in control of what happens to us.  We can plan and use common sense, but the good, the bad, and the pain weird and ugly are still going to come our way.  The best thing to do is to take each day as it comes, offering it up, and hoping that the one that follows will be a little better than the last.  I don't know about you, but I hope I don't see that old woman again any time too soon!