Boy Scouts: What Would Jesus Do?

Following a heated discussion of the Girls Scouts’ latest bed-fellows, the Boy Scouts briefly became the focus of conversation at book club tonight.

I’m going to say something that – I think – will be largely unpopular.

I totally agree with the change the Boy Scouts have made.

As the parent of a Boy Scout, I was encouraged to respond to the survey they issued in order to help them decide where to draw the line on the involvement of homosexuals in scouting.  As I read and prayerfully answered those questions, I realized what a difficult position the organization was in.  And it comes down to this:

What would Jesus do?

Would Jesus put people in leadership who openly professed beliefs and lifestyles that were contrary to his teachings?

No.  He clearly chose as his disciples men who would lead by example.  Men who would thwart conventions of the day to follow the convictions of their God.  Thus, I am very supportive of the Boy Scouts decision to continue to prevent openly gay adults from holding leadership roles.

Would Jesus tell a nine year old boy who openly professed homosexuality that he could not be a part of a group?

No.  In fact, he would encourage that boy to surround himself with good, Godly people, who could support and strengthen him in leading a life of sacrifice – a life in which he will be forced to deny his fleshly desires in recognition of God’s will for his life.

As a friend once told me: “I think, if Jesus were walking the Earth today, you’d be more likely to find him in a gay bar than at a Bible study.”  Jesus would go where he is most needed.  The well do not need a physician, after all.

And thus, as unpopular as my opinion may be, I do believe that young, homosexual boys should not be turned away from the Boy Scouts.  Or from youth group, or a group of friends at school, etc.  That smacks of bullying to me.  Quite frankly, it also smacks of cruelty, heartlessness, and any other number of not-so-nice things.

If you don’t like it, don’t put your son in Boy Scouts.  There are other options out there – options which, quite frankly, I myself am going to explore simply because I feel that Boy Scouts is too light on the faith and character aspect.

But I don’t think that having a gay boy in your son’s pack is going to turn your son gay.  It might raise some uncomfortable questions, but I think those questions will provide parents with valuable teaching moments.

And let’s face it. What are the chances, really, of a ten year old boy being openly gay and wanting to join Boy Scouts.  Pretty slim, I think.

 

Post-less-ness

After a full month of post-less-ness, you’d think that we’d had a serious illness, or death in the family.  Fortunately, this is not the case.  I think the crux of the matter is that I’ve been staying up late, spending time with Ray.  When the alarm goes off at five thirty, there’s no way I’m getting up.  The good news is that my marriage is in tip-top shape.  The bad news is that my best writing time is early in the morning, so it just hasn’t been happening.

A few other things have contributed to my “post-less-ness”:

Post-less Reason #1: I have become a total bookworm.  Or perhaps I should just cut to the chase and admit that I’m a book addict.  The only way I can seem to control my addiction is to read mediocre books.  I started one of those last weekend.  Hence, this post is actually getting finished. (If you read my post, Re-Orienting, you can now see just how well I accomplished that goal.  I hang my head in shame.)

Post-less Reason #2: I’ve restarted my Arbonne business.  I finally realized that I was pretty stupid to continually complain (if only to myself) that I’m sick of being broke, without doing anything concrete about it.  I’ve tried scrimping, saving, and budgeting.  While it helped, it still didn’t magically put more money in the bank.  One day, I opened my monthly paycheck from a business I haven’t done anything with in four years, and the brick finally hit me that I was blowing off a great opportunity.  So I’m back at it.  If you want to try some really awesome skin care products, just let me know. :) Better yet, if you want to learn how you too can build a business that will still pay you four years after you quit, let me know!

OK.  End of advertisement.

Post-less Reason #3: It’s spring!  I’ve been busy out in the yard: pulling weeds, trimming bushes, splitting grasses, and planting tomatoes, peppers, and a lovely little birch tree that currently stands about two feet tall.  The garden is a real time suck in the spring, but there are few places I’d rather be.

 

Columbine, me and Ray’s favorite flower, after our two year stint in CO. We planted one, and now have ten. Love it.

Post-less Reason #4: It’s spring!  Wait, didn’t I already say that?  Well, another thing about spring is Little League Baseball, school programs and projects, and a ramping up of volunteer responsibilities.  VBS starts a month from today, we had our first Mary’s Way planning meeting this morning, Becoming Girls wrapped up the year with a bang and we are planning for next year, and my buddy Denice and I have started a new welcoming ministry at the church.  Whew!  Sometimes I think maybe I take too much on.

 

Dude in his baseball attire. I do love watching baseball. I don’t love watching him take hard hits in the chest. Thanks be to God, he was OK.

It all adds up.  But, I’m doing pretty well at keeping God at the center, my marriage is healthy, my kids are well-fed and well-loved, and my friends (I think) know they can count on me when they need me.  There’s always room for improvement, and with the Spirit’s guidance I will continue on a path of growth, even if I’m taking two steps forward and one step back most of the time.  At least I’m never staying the same!

 

Choices and Consequences

What a morning!  If my alarm went off, I must have turned it off without registering the fact.  So I woke up half an hour late, on a day when I had a meeting scheduled immediately after school drop off.  The two school kids didn’t want to wake up, and were still in bed at 7:15 – twenty minutes before our drop dead time to be pulling out of the garage.  The Dude said that he didn’t feel well, but appeared to be suffering nothing more than a very minor sore throat.  I insisted he get up and get ready for school and proceeded to feed the rest of the kids a carb-packed breakfast of bagels.  Time was running thin, but the dog was crying from his crate, so I ran him out to potty real quick.  Boo followed me, and wound up falling smack on her face as we were running back into the house.  I carried the battered and screaming child into the house, glanced at the stairs and saw the Dude, STILL IN HIS JAMMIES.  I looked at the clock, and it read 7:35 - yes, that would be my drop dead time to be pulling out of the garage.  Boo was still screaming, the dog was racing around the kitchen looking for stray bagels to pull off the table, and Dad entered into the fray to yell at the top of his lungs, “DUDE, GET READY FOR SCHOOL!!!!!!!!!”

AHHHHHH!!!!!

I wound up taking off with the three younger kids, getting Bonita to school several minutes late.  I was late to my meeting, of course.  Ray drove the Dude to school and I ran him up to the office, since my meeting was just across the parking lot.  He was forlorn, worrying over the fact that this is his third tardy, which means DETENTION.  Serving detention as a third grader is gonna… well, for lack of a better word, suck.  Its left me feeling sad and guilty, but he tries to play the “I don’t feel good” card all the time and today he is learning the hard way that our choices have consequences.

So there.  Finally.  I guess that’s the point of this post.  Choices have consequences, as we know all too well as adults.  As parents, we have a natural desire to shelter our children, but we also bear a responsibility to allow them to learn it the hard way.

Today, my baby’s learning the hard way.  And I really want to cry.

Re-Orienting

Having gotten off track spiritually (I confess to being totally caught up in the Twilight saga, which has disrupted my prayer and scripture routines) yesterday’s Solemnity of the Annunciation was a great reminder that any day is a good day to start fresh and do better.

It was a strange day liturgically.  We just finished Lent a week ago, during which time we sacrificed through almsgiving, prayer, and fasting, as we remembered Christ’s death on the cross.  Now we are in the midst of the Easter season, joyfully celebrating Christ’s resurrection.  And yet yesterday we celebrated the Annunciation, remembering when the Angel Gabriel announced the birth of the Christ Child to the Blessed Mother.  In just nine month’s time, we will again celebrate His birth.

Roughly two thousand years ago, on a day that started off just like any other day, Mary received startling, amazing, miraculous news.  The Messiah would be born, and she had been chosen as His mother!

Domenico Beccafumi 070
It’s a good reminder that, no matter the day or the season, we must always “wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.”

How do we wait in joyful hope?  We do everything we can to keep our hearts and minds pure.  We partake of the sacraments, and go to reconciliation frequently.  We share the Gospel through our love and generosity. We try to live each and every day as handmaids of the Lord, and when we fail, we make up our minds to do better.

Clearly, allowing myself to become totally engrossed in novels about vampires and werewolves does not in any way fulfill the requirements.  Especially when it has directly contributed to the neglect of my prayer-life, housework, and professional responsibilities. Fortunately, today is the first day of the rest of my life, and I’ve decided to reorient myself around my “one word” for 2013, self-discipline.  If it takes me more than three days to finish the remaining two books, I believe I will have succeeded in some small measure.  :)   If my house is clean for Bible study Thursday morning, if I’ve actually completed the homework, if I keep up with the “Impossible Novena” and daily Rosary prayer, and if I manage to cross off the bulk of my to-do-list before the week’s end, I’ll be quite content with my progress. I’ll keep you posted.

 

Here’s a post over on Practicing Catholic on Beginning Again that I thought you might enjoy as well!

 

Why I Love Our Crucifix

A little over four years ago, our parish moved into our new church building.  While I was impressed by the grandeur and scale of the building, and felt that they had done an excellent job of making a modern building feel special and holy, adding elements reflective of our parish’s Irish history, I confess that I wasn’t very impressed with the crucifix.

OK, to be honest, I didn’t like it at all.  Jesus’s feet were to big, his lips were pursed in an odd way, and the nails in his hands and feet were missing.  That bothered me the most.  I kept waiting for the artist to come and finish his masterpiece by finally nailing those hands and feet to the cross.

Then one day someone pointed out that Jesus needed figurative “big feet” to bear the burdens that he had to bear and to do the work that he had to do.  The big feet also serve as a reminder that it is now our responsibility to be the hands and feet of Christ.  And with all the people of the Church making up those hands and feet, his feet are big, indeed!

One Sunday our priest spoke in his homily about our crucifix.  He shared the fact that, shortly after coming to our parish, he spent several hours in prayerful reflection before the crucifix.  He came to know “our Jesus” as the Jesus of John’s crucifixion – a Jesus who had total and complete control of the situation.

But still, those nail-less hands and feet bugged me… until one day I realized that,, if you covered the cross behind him and added a cloak, this crucified Jesus would become a resurrected Jesus.  Thus, the artist has given us a visual reminder of the joy of the resurrection, even in the sorrow of the crucifixion.

Finally, not all that long ago, it dawned on me.  Jesus remained on that cross, not because nails held him in place, but because love bound him there.

And I fell in love with our crucifix.

 

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It’s a Beautiful Day

I don’t know what sets it apart and makes my heart swell with gratitude, but the words that keep swimming in my head are simple:  “It’s a beautiful day.”

Is it because I went to bed at a reasonable hour, and turned my alarm off when it squawked at five a.m.?  I certainly do feel well rested.

Or is it because, while I didn’t wake up to write so very early, I did at least spend time in scripture before the day raced away?

Is it the result of not losing my cool when Bear threw a fit at breakfast?  It is definitely rewarding to prayerfully soldier through those moments, knowing that, for once, you are mothering like Mary would have mothered if her Son had ever actually behaved in such a manner.

Perhaps its because the washing machine is broken, so, while the laundry continues to pile up, it simply cannot be on my list of things to do this morning?

Maybe its because, having gone to bed early as well, the children woke cheerfully this morning?

Or maybe its due to the brightly shining sun, which I was blessed to witness in its rising, and which, despite the chilly 26 degree temperatures, gives the promise of warming through the day?

Regardless… I feel wrapped in God’s goodness, filled with His Spirit, ready to give Him glory and honor and praise.

It’s a beautiful day.

The Last Judgement

When the cardinals approached the box to cast their ballots for the next successor to Peter, they were faced with this painting:

Michelangelo’s fresco, The Last Judgement, depicts the damned being cast into hell on Christ’s lower left, while elsewhere the blessed are raised up to heaven.

When taking part in such a weighty task, it was certainly prudent that the cardinals should think about their own final judgement, and how the vote that they cast will establish them in the Kingdom of God.  Moreover, it was important that they consider how their votes will effect the final judgement of the 1.2 billion Catholic souls across the globe.

It occurs to me that we could all use a giant fresco of the Last Judgement in our lives.  This fresco would need to be a floating one, though, that would travel around with us throughout our days.  Or possibly one that magically appears each time we’re making a decision that could be crucial to our eternal well-being or that of another individual.

For instance, your driving down the street, kids strapped securely into their seats, when another driver rudely cuts you off.  You’re faced with a decision.  Do you pray for that person?  Or do you shout obscenities, ride their bumper, and lay on your horn?

Whoooosh!  Magic fresco.  Oh, yeah.  Pray.

Or, you see an old neighbor in a parking lot, driving her brand new Mercedes coupe.  After chatting for a few minutes about her new and luxurious home, she looks at your car and says, “Oh, wow.  You’re still driving that old thing?”  Do you calmly smile and tell her that you are blessed to have a car at all?  Or do you tell her that she is a pretentious, money-grabbing so-and-so?

Whoopaw!  Magic fresco.  Uh huh.  Calm smile.

Of course, there are the moments with the children, when you can react with love or with anger.

And there are those many moments with the hubby, when you can call to mind Proverbs 31, or respond as the world seems to teach.

Occassionaly in our lives we are faced with big, weighty decisions.  Probably never anything as big as what the cardinals faced these last two days, but big nonetheless.  A new job, education for our children, a new home, etc.  We usually remember to pray for guidance in these things.

But our final judgement will be less a product of those big, momentous choices, and more the result of the little choices we make every day.

And so, I’d like to have a magic, floating fresco.

Perhaps there’s an app for that?

Viva il Papa!

This is the first papal conclave that I’ve really watched.  The election of Benedict XVI occurred so soon after my confirmation into the Church, that it all still seemed very foreign and strange to me… while I knew that it was important, it wasn’t personal yet.

And so I was completely unprepared for the emotions that gripped me today.  Along with Catholics around the world, I’ve been praying for the conclave ever since Pope Emeritus Benedict announced his resignation.  I’ve been waiting anxiously to find out who the new pope would be.  Yet, I never thought…

I never thought I’d sob into a tissue as I saw the replay of white smoke.

Never thought I’d laugh with joy to see the faithful packed into St. Peters Square.

Never thought I’d miss getting my kids from the bus stop but yell to them from a block away, “Hurry!  Hurry!  We have a new pope!  Habemus Papam!”

Never thought I’d spend two hours sitting on the couch, glued to the TV, waiting expectantly to see the face of a man who, up until now, was a complete stranger to me.

And yet I did.  And I am So. Proud. to be. CATHOLIC.

May God Bless Pope Francis.

Snow – An Amateur’s Poem

Snow! Snow! Such wonderful stuff!

When it is falling, I can’t get enough.

Snowflakes melting in my hair,

Nose pink from frosty air.

Angels made in the white,

Men rolled into spheres so tight.

My senses thus beguiled,

I unearth my inner child.

And for a moment, or three, or four,

Find that I wish for nothing more.