Dear Auntie Seraphic,
A few weeks ago I attended yet another beautiful Catholic wedding. Atypically, however, the couple in question is part of my "secular" friend group. As result, while I was aware of their quiet faith, I was pleasantly surprised by the beauty and reverence of the Mass. However, another consequence was that of our group of friends present, I alone knew what was going on at the ceremony.
A few seats away was a handsome young man who, like me and unlike everyone else in the row, knew when to kneel and stand, knew the responses for the prayers, knelt in quiet prayer for a few minutes after the Mass as everyone else ran out, and sang along to the hymns in a charming off-kilter tenor. My little Catholic heart began to race, because it is not often that I meet a Nice Catholic Boy who isn't already married or in religious formation.
At the reception, I was introduced to this NCB by my friend X to whom he is engaged. I'd heard X was engaged but hadn't yet met the fiance. I was quite frankly torn between genuine happiness for my friend and horrendous jealousy. You see, X is a wonderful, hardworking woman of integrity, but she is completely irreligious and her morals concerning relationships/etc are quite opposite of mine. During the dinner X and I had a chance to talk a little bit about her upcoming wedding (planned as a Mass on account of his 'super-religious' family) and about the marriage prep process in our Diocese. She confessed to me that the required NFP course and Theology of the Body segments were upsetting to her because, as she put it, "it's just not what I believe." They plan to contracept, and while the priest who will marry them might not know that, she was very open with me about it.
Seraphic, now Jealousy was overtaken by Pride. I sat stewing for the entire drive home, rather angry. You see, while I spent my early 20s going to daily Mass and helping with mission trips, X spent hers partying and sleeping with many guys... and she's the one who ends up with a Nice Catholic Fiance, while I am still searching? It reeks of injustice.
Now, of course, I know that no one "deserves" a spouse and that husbands are only gifts from God. I know that my going to daily Mass is supposed to be about my growth in holiness, not finding a way to meet Nice Catholic Boys. But it's still frustrating!
I'm happy for X, certainly, to have found a spouse. But I'm still irritated that one of the few NCBs left was snatched up by a very not-Catholic girl. I also realize that putting it that way makes NCBs seem like a sort of rare commodity, like uranium or pro-life Democrats. How do I overcome my own sinfulness and try to be truly happy for her?
Green Goblin Girl
Dear Green Goblin Girl,
Back up a few sentences. Never mind the bit about your own sinfulness. It's the only fake bit of your admirably honest letter. You don't feel sinful. You feel mad. Heck, I feel mad on your behalf. If I were you, I'd be good and mad. I'd be on my way to church, steeling myself for a showdown with the Big Guy, as my brother Nulli calls Him.
"Hey," I'd yell (after doing a quick recce for priests, pious old ladies and napping street people). "Why her, eh? Why not me? HEL-LO? Service trips!"
And then I'd probably hear a silent voice in my head saying, "I thought you liked those service trips."
"Uh, yeah," I'd say. "I did."
"And I seem to remember you thanking Me for the graces and gifts of those service trips."
"Um. Yeah."
"So...what? I'm supposed to give you a big sexy reward now, too?"
And then there'd be a big scene like at the end of Job involving someone repenting in dust and ashes because that's how these conversations tend to end.
Lookit, it sucks. It totally sucks when girls who partied while you prayed get a great guy, and you don't. It totally sucks when girls on the Pill get the nice uber-Catholic in-laws and you don't. I know it sucks. Feel free to say "It sucks!" really loudly. Sucks, sucks, sucks. It sucks that virtue is its own reward with no cute man attached. I know that. You know that. We all know that.
But there is one great rule about men and love. And it is that men love whom they love and not whom we think they should love, especially when it is us. For some reason, this guy looked at Binky the Party Girl and said, "That's for me!"
The good news is that you just met this guy. You've seen him once. You're not in love with him. You barely know him. All you know about him is that he's been to Mass long enough to know when to stand and when to kneel and what to sing, but not long enough to know he is supposed to say, "Binky, the Pill is out of the question." He might be a (contracepting) NCB, but he's not really St. Thomas More, now, is he?
My guess, Green Goblin Girl, is that you would not want a man like this. YOU want a man who would stand up to you if you were tempted to contracept, and say "No! I love you, but I will not allow my marriage to be chemically sterile. I will not lie to God, the priest and all our wedding guests when we say we will accept children lovingly from God. I will explain to you the beauty of marital sexuality until I am blue in the face. I will swear to work my fingers to the bone in the unlikely event that we have more than 7 children. Perhaps you will leave me now, and my heart will break, but Green Goblin Girl, I am a Roman Catholic man and I will uphold the Faith. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."
Cue violins as you fall into his arms. The camera cuts to his face and, surprise, surprise, he looks nothing like Binky's fiance. Binky's fiance is a wuss.
Now, the teaching against artifical birth control is a hard pill to swallow (har har), so I'm now going to cut Fiance and Binky some slack. It could be that marriage to Fiance is Binky's best chance at salvation. It could be that the Binky's heart is melted on her wedding day. It could be that Binky's heart is melted when she gets preggers anyway. It could be that Binky's heart will be gradually melted by her nice (if wussy) husband and her uber-Catholic in-laws.
So you can be happy for Binky because YOU want a REAL Nice Catholic Boy with GUTS anyway, and this wussy Catholic Boy mysteriously might be (despite his wussiness) Binky's great chance to become friends with our Lord Jesus Christ. At the very least, she'll have to settle down and give up serial monogamy.
That's my Auntie-eye view. Don't be happy Binky's got a great guy. Be happy Binky might have a shot at salvation through marriage to him. Now go read the bit in the Holy Bible about the Prodigal Son, concentrating on the good things the Father says to the Good Son, especially "Everything I have is yours."
Hope this is helpful!
Grace and peace,
Seraphic
P.S. You couldn't force me to listen to a Theology of the Body talk. Boring and possibly dodgy. B.A. and I don't enjoy sitting with near-strangers listening to total strangers talk about sex. I know, I know: we're so vanilla.
Friday, 18 June 2010
Thursday, 17 June 2010
Auntie Seraphic & the Kissing Fan
Dear Auntie Seraphic
I have been dating a young man [with a job and of marriageable age]. He is a much better Catholic than I. In fact he attends Mass daily and has a very regular prayer life. He also speaks to his spiritual director regularly. He did his "discerning his vocation" thing through his twenties and is now certain that he is not supposed to be a priest or a consecrated celibate of some kind. Through all this discerning he had very little experience with women or relationships. He did not want to hurt anyone or get their hopes up when he was not ready to marry and so he did not really date.
He has had no experience with physical affection with a woman. He grew up in a family where his parents did now show him any physical affection.
After a few dates he held my hand and that was a pretty big deal for him. He also kissed me that night and it was his first kiss. I noticed his heart was racing when he hugged me and I asked if he was ok.
He dropped me home and we made a plan to go to Mass together the next morning. After Mass we went for a coffee and a chat. He told me that he had not been to sleep all night and had actually called a priest for confession that morning before Mass. He said that while we had not done anything sinful, his reaction to what had happened caused him to struggle with temptation all night. He stressed that it was not my fault and that no doubt other men can cope much better but that because of his inexperience he didnt know how sensitively he would react. He said that he had decided that he didn't think he should engage in passionate kissing again until he was married. He also said that he didn't think he could hold hands with me for awhile either and just needed space to relax.
This is all very new territory for me. I am a very physically affectionate person and I like to be hugged and have my hand held etc. I agree that passionate kissing is problematic and I am willing to forgo that. But as we have been getting to know each other more and more my feelings for him are growing stronger. And as my feelings grow stronger I want to be close to him.
In one sense it is nice because other guys I have gone out with have just tried to push and see how far they could get. [And this man calls almost every day, pays on dates, and takes great care in planning things for us.]
My question is, what should I do about this? I need more physical affection than is there right now. I have also never been the girl to make the first move. Am I being silly? Is this a symptom of the fact that I have been too sexual in previous relationships? I am not a virgin and have slept with more than one man. I have not told him this, and he has not asked! He did say, "I suppose you've had a few boyfriends before?" and I said yes.
Advice? You may ask B.A. for a NCB-eye view.
Kissing Fan
Dear Kissing Fan,
Thank you very much for this email. This is a most important issue and affects many more Christian men and women than you could guess.
First of all, congratulations on meeting such a nice man. From a NCG point of view, he sounds fantastic. Very thoughtful and kind.
Second, this is not an unusual situation. I have dated a NCB who was 34 years old and had never kissed a girl. And I know of a 20-something NCB who only ever kissed his NCG on the cheek, and when, worried, she asked him about it, he explained that he didn't want to go too far. Some NCBs think they are sexual werewolves that will not be able to stop themselves from becoming hairy, fanged creatures of lust if they engage in passionate kissing and, hey, maybe they are.
I did check with B.A., and B.A. said "Is she sure he wants to make out?" which is a polite way of asking, "Could he be in the grip of a strong and exclusive Same-Sex Attraction?" This, of course, is always a NCG worry with super-chaste NCBs, but if the guy agonized all night about temptation, I think we can rule that out. He sounds like future husband material. How nice it will be for him when he is married and can stop worrying.
Don't, don't, don't, don't make a new "first move" here. I can not stress this enough. You've suffered from men not respecting your boundaries; now you must respect your boyfriend's boundaries. Forget all about hand-holding, hugs, kisses, making out and whatever else for now. His family didn't hug, so even hugs may be sexual to him. For hugs, hug your parents and your girlfriends. I sympathize about wanting hugs; when I've had too much to drink, I go around patting people I like, and that is a total no-no in Scotland, let me tell you.
But listen up: you do NOT need physical affection. You have no right to physical affection. It is nice that your family and friends hug you (when they do), but you have no right to those hugs. Even more, you have no right to kisses, caresses or any other physical manifestation of affection from a man not your husband.
Sex and sexual behaviour are rather addictive, so I am going to go out on a limb and say that yes, your hunger for physical expressions of affection may be linked to your sexual past. However, you are in control of you, so you can tell your hunger for physical expression to shut up. This desire is called concupiscence--it usually has a sexual connotation, but I think concupiscence is actually a deep, deep hunger for more than our proper share of anything.
Are you going to suffer? Yes. Offer it up in penance for past sins. Like Sister said in my Grade Nine religion class, sin has its own built-in punishment: extramarital sex makes you want more sex, sex that it not yours to have. Meanwhile, you may want to tell this whole story to a good, orthodox priest in the confessional because he might have some additional advice.
Please do not make a first move. And do not discuss your sexual past. (Good for you for resisting that temptation so far. He's SO not ready to hear it.) It's good that he knows you've had boyfriends before, and that is enough for now. Don't forget that your sexual past is in the past. It doesn't have to be your present--or your future.
I hope this is helpful. Enjoy the wonderful times you are having with your chaste boyfriend (for whom half the women reading this would cheerfully murder you), and allow him to keep his peace of mind.
Grace and Peace,
Auntie Seraphic
P.S. I suspect that, after awhile, he will make another attempt at hand-holding. If he gives you that inch, though, don't take a mile or no more hand-holding will you get.
Update: For anyone dying to know how far I think you can go, I have become intensely conservative about this since my marriage, and I think passionate kissing should be reserved to engaged people. Real hardliners will say married people, but I have discovered that that is practically impossible, at least if you're engaged to B.A. (Sniff.) (Hee hee hee!)
UPDATE 2: A Catholic priest writes in: The one thing I would add is...that the boyfriend in question will need to loosen up a little before he's ready for marriage. (I mean loosen up psychologically rather than morally.)
I approve of his chaste behaviour and his moral outlook, but his psychological/physiological reaction to a kiss suggests that there are certain issues of comfort vis-a-vis physicality which will need to be resolved before marriage. I mean, if he still reacts so intensely to being kissed, then marriage itself will have its own difficulties...
As I say, I agree with you 100% in your moral assessment of the situation, but I would suggest to your correspondent that if her boyfriend isn't comfortable holding her hand, hugging her chastely or exchanging a chaste kiss with her, then marriage should wait until he's a lot lot more comfortable and restrained in his sexual impulses. If everything is normal, he'll gradually grow used to dating, etc, and this won't be a problem.
I have been dating a young man [with a job and of marriageable age]. He is a much better Catholic than I. In fact he attends Mass daily and has a very regular prayer life. He also speaks to his spiritual director regularly. He did his "discerning his vocation" thing through his twenties and is now certain that he is not supposed to be a priest or a consecrated celibate of some kind. Through all this discerning he had very little experience with women or relationships. He did not want to hurt anyone or get their hopes up when he was not ready to marry and so he did not really date.
He has had no experience with physical affection with a woman. He grew up in a family where his parents did now show him any physical affection.
After a few dates he held my hand and that was a pretty big deal for him. He also kissed me that night and it was his first kiss. I noticed his heart was racing when he hugged me and I asked if he was ok.
He dropped me home and we made a plan to go to Mass together the next morning. After Mass we went for a coffee and a chat. He told me that he had not been to sleep all night and had actually called a priest for confession that morning before Mass. He said that while we had not done anything sinful, his reaction to what had happened caused him to struggle with temptation all night. He stressed that it was not my fault and that no doubt other men can cope much better but that because of his inexperience he didnt know how sensitively he would react. He said that he had decided that he didn't think he should engage in passionate kissing again until he was married. He also said that he didn't think he could hold hands with me for awhile either and just needed space to relax.
This is all very new territory for me. I am a very physically affectionate person and I like to be hugged and have my hand held etc. I agree that passionate kissing is problematic and I am willing to forgo that. But as we have been getting to know each other more and more my feelings for him are growing stronger. And as my feelings grow stronger I want to be close to him.
In one sense it is nice because other guys I have gone out with have just tried to push and see how far they could get. [And this man calls almost every day, pays on dates, and takes great care in planning things for us.]
My question is, what should I do about this? I need more physical affection than is there right now. I have also never been the girl to make the first move. Am I being silly? Is this a symptom of the fact that I have been too sexual in previous relationships? I am not a virgin and have slept with more than one man. I have not told him this, and he has not asked! He did say, "I suppose you've had a few boyfriends before?" and I said yes.
Advice? You may ask B.A. for a NCB-eye view.
Kissing Fan
Dear Kissing Fan,
Thank you very much for this email. This is a most important issue and affects many more Christian men and women than you could guess.
First of all, congratulations on meeting such a nice man. From a NCG point of view, he sounds fantastic. Very thoughtful and kind.
Second, this is not an unusual situation. I have dated a NCB who was 34 years old and had never kissed a girl. And I know of a 20-something NCB who only ever kissed his NCG on the cheek, and when, worried, she asked him about it, he explained that he didn't want to go too far. Some NCBs think they are sexual werewolves that will not be able to stop themselves from becoming hairy, fanged creatures of lust if they engage in passionate kissing and, hey, maybe they are.
I did check with B.A., and B.A. said "Is she sure he wants to make out?" which is a polite way of asking, "Could he be in the grip of a strong and exclusive Same-Sex Attraction?" This, of course, is always a NCG worry with super-chaste NCBs, but if the guy agonized all night about temptation, I think we can rule that out. He sounds like future husband material. How nice it will be for him when he is married and can stop worrying.
Don't, don't, don't, don't make a new "first move" here. I can not stress this enough. You've suffered from men not respecting your boundaries; now you must respect your boyfriend's boundaries. Forget all about hand-holding, hugs, kisses, making out and whatever else for now. His family didn't hug, so even hugs may be sexual to him. For hugs, hug your parents and your girlfriends. I sympathize about wanting hugs; when I've had too much to drink, I go around patting people I like, and that is a total no-no in Scotland, let me tell you.
But listen up: you do NOT need physical affection. You have no right to physical affection. It is nice that your family and friends hug you (when they do), but you have no right to those hugs. Even more, you have no right to kisses, caresses or any other physical manifestation of affection from a man not your husband.
Sex and sexual behaviour are rather addictive, so I am going to go out on a limb and say that yes, your hunger for physical expressions of affection may be linked to your sexual past. However, you are in control of you, so you can tell your hunger for physical expression to shut up. This desire is called concupiscence--it usually has a sexual connotation, but I think concupiscence is actually a deep, deep hunger for more than our proper share of anything.
Are you going to suffer? Yes. Offer it up in penance for past sins. Like Sister said in my Grade Nine religion class, sin has its own built-in punishment: extramarital sex makes you want more sex, sex that it not yours to have. Meanwhile, you may want to tell this whole story to a good, orthodox priest in the confessional because he might have some additional advice.
Please do not make a first move. And do not discuss your sexual past. (Good for you for resisting that temptation so far. He's SO not ready to hear it.) It's good that he knows you've had boyfriends before, and that is enough for now. Don't forget that your sexual past is in the past. It doesn't have to be your present--or your future.
I hope this is helpful. Enjoy the wonderful times you are having with your chaste boyfriend (for whom half the women reading this would cheerfully murder you), and allow him to keep his peace of mind.
Grace and Peace,
Auntie Seraphic
P.S. I suspect that, after awhile, he will make another attempt at hand-holding. If he gives you that inch, though, don't take a mile or no more hand-holding will you get.
Update: For anyone dying to know how far I think you can go, I have become intensely conservative about this since my marriage, and I think passionate kissing should be reserved to engaged people. Real hardliners will say married people, but I have discovered that that is practically impossible, at least if you're engaged to B.A. (Sniff.) (Hee hee hee!)
UPDATE 2: A Catholic priest writes in: The one thing I would add is...that the boyfriend in question will need to loosen up a little before he's ready for marriage. (I mean loosen up psychologically rather than morally.)
I approve of his chaste behaviour and his moral outlook, but his psychological/physiological reaction to a kiss suggests that there are certain issues of comfort vis-a-vis physicality which will need to be resolved before marriage. I mean, if he still reacts so intensely to being kissed, then marriage itself will have its own difficulties...
As I say, I agree with you 100% in your moral assessment of the situation, but I would suggest to your correspondent that if her boyfriend isn't comfortable holding her hand, hugging her chastely or exchanging a chaste kiss with her, then marriage should wait until he's a lot lot more comfortable and restrained in his sexual impulses. If everything is normal, he'll gradually grow used to dating, etc, and this won't be a problem.
Wednesday, 16 June 2010
Judgement
I want a dog. Ideally, I would like a Tibetan Spaniel because my best buddy has one and I think I understand them. But B.A. thinks Tibetan Spaniels are girly, so we are getting a terrier instead. Since pure-bred animals seem to be the norm around here, we looked up prices.
"Four hundred POUNDS!" we shrieked.
"We could get a terrier from a Rescue," I said.
"No, we can't," said B.A. "Those dogs often have serious problems, and we can't have a dog with problems here in the Historical House."
I had a hideous vision of a mad terrier gnawing on 18th century chairs and peeing on the silk Chinese Wallpaper and agreed.
How judgmental.
Occasionally I get emails informing me that I am judgmental. I know this already, but thank you very much. I am glad to be judgmental because I am a Lonerganian, and Lonerganians observe that there are three stages in knowing anything: Experience, Understanding and Judging. After Judging comes Deciding because knowing leads to doing in the Lonerganian scheme of things.
Experience is the raw materials of the world coming at you without you reflecting on them. For example, if you are dozing in the sun and you are dimly aware of sun but you have not put together the thought SUN yet, you are merely on the level of experience.
Understanding (or "insight") comes about as the answer to "What is it?" Hypotheses come bounding into your brain. Sometimes they are wrong. For example, sometimes I wake up unsure of where I am. Then I rightly or wrongly hypothesize that I am at home in the Historical House.
Judgement comes as the answer to "Is it so?" For example, there I am, slowly moving out of the pure, unreflective experience of lying in bed in a sunbeam. "What is it" flashes into my mind, proving that I have moved to the understanding stage. "My bed in the Historical House" I hypothesize. But then my hand touches a wall, and I wonder "Wait, is that so?" And, because I don't have a wall by my bed in Historical House, I think "No." So I make a new hypothesis, which is that I am in bed in my old room in Toronto, and I ask again "Is it so?" I open my eyes and lo, it is so.
Now at this point my critics will have skipped ahead of this philosophical stuff, complaining that's not what they mean when they say that I am judgmental. In fact, they might even argue, if feeling particularly bright, that I am not judgmental at all, by my terms, as I seem to skip right from Understanding to Decision. For that, I think, is what they mean. I do not wait until all the facts are in before saying "Learn, dear Singles, from the story of X. X is a Bad Role Model."
Most recently, I was criticiqued for my discussion of a young lady who, by her own admission, at the age of eleven got drunk at a party, had consensual sex and later found herself pregnant. However, it turns out that the girl lied about this. Apparently she was not made pregnant by the boy at the "booze-filled romp", but by her older brother, with whom she had been in a coersive incestuous relationship for years.
The reader who sent along this information said that perhaps I shouldn't have "blindly judged" this situation before all the facts were in. I don't know how I was supposed to guess that the girl in question had been lying about when she got pregnant, or that she was being abused by her brother. I could judge her only on her word. But at any rate, this incest revelation only proves the point of my post, which was never that the girl was "bad", but that horrible private behaviour has horrible consequences for society.
Incidentally, the 15 year old boy this girl, lying, named as the father of her child was tried for statutory rape. (He convinced the judge that he thought the girl was 14 and got three years' probation.)
But, thanks to my reader, I have more facts before me to help me judge if this girl is a fit influence for her four year old child. And I still say no. I am sorry that she has suffered all that she has suffered; it is truly terrible. But not only has she told (or sold) her baby's story to the tabloids, she has told (or sold) an even ghastlier one because she didn't like how the first story made her look. But now the public knows (thanks to the birth mother and the tabs) that the four year old's uncle is her father, and if the public ever figures out the four year old's name, God only knows what humiliations she will undergo. Thanks, Mum.
I agree that, given her terrible childhood, which we can blame on her brother, whose barrister used the brother's own terrible childhood in his defence, and on her parents, who possibly had terrible childhoods themselves, it might be a bit much to expect this young woman to have good judgement. However, someone with terrible judgement should not be trusted around a four year old child.
Meanwhile, I will continue to say nasty things about men who pressure women into having abortions, men who pressure women into having sex and men who commit mass murder. If that makes me "judgmental", blessed are the judgmental, for rootness in reality shall be ours.
Update: I probably should underscore that this terrible story caught my interest because I live near neighbourhoods that share symptoms of decline with this girl's childhood home. This is a Scottish story about poor people in Scotland, and I live among poor people in Scotland. I am moved by their sufferings and disturbed by cycles of abuse, degradation and poverty.
One possible factor for the continuing misery is that children do not know that it is wrong for children to have sex, either with adults or with other children. They do not know that it is wrong for children to consume alcohol, caffeine, nicotine and cannabis. They do not know it is wrong for people to conceive children out of wedlock. Possibly they do not know because those who are supposed to tell them fear accusations of being judgmental. But judgmental is what we have to be on behalf of those who have no judgement.
"Four hundred POUNDS!" we shrieked.
"We could get a terrier from a Rescue," I said.
"No, we can't," said B.A. "Those dogs often have serious problems, and we can't have a dog with problems here in the Historical House."
I had a hideous vision of a mad terrier gnawing on 18th century chairs and peeing on the silk Chinese Wallpaper and agreed.
How judgmental.
Occasionally I get emails informing me that I am judgmental. I know this already, but thank you very much. I am glad to be judgmental because I am a Lonerganian, and Lonerganians observe that there are three stages in knowing anything: Experience, Understanding and Judging. After Judging comes Deciding because knowing leads to doing in the Lonerganian scheme of things.
Experience is the raw materials of the world coming at you without you reflecting on them. For example, if you are dozing in the sun and you are dimly aware of sun but you have not put together the thought SUN yet, you are merely on the level of experience.
Understanding (or "insight") comes about as the answer to "What is it?" Hypotheses come bounding into your brain. Sometimes they are wrong. For example, sometimes I wake up unsure of where I am. Then I rightly or wrongly hypothesize that I am at home in the Historical House.
Judgement comes as the answer to "Is it so?" For example, there I am, slowly moving out of the pure, unreflective experience of lying in bed in a sunbeam. "What is it" flashes into my mind, proving that I have moved to the understanding stage. "My bed in the Historical House" I hypothesize. But then my hand touches a wall, and I wonder "Wait, is that so?" And, because I don't have a wall by my bed in Historical House, I think "No." So I make a new hypothesis, which is that I am in bed in my old room in Toronto, and I ask again "Is it so?" I open my eyes and lo, it is so.
Now at this point my critics will have skipped ahead of this philosophical stuff, complaining that's not what they mean when they say that I am judgmental. In fact, they might even argue, if feeling particularly bright, that I am not judgmental at all, by my terms, as I seem to skip right from Understanding to Decision. For that, I think, is what they mean. I do not wait until all the facts are in before saying "Learn, dear Singles, from the story of X. X is a Bad Role Model."
Most recently, I was criticiqued for my discussion of a young lady who, by her own admission, at the age of eleven got drunk at a party, had consensual sex and later found herself pregnant. However, it turns out that the girl lied about this. Apparently she was not made pregnant by the boy at the "booze-filled romp", but by her older brother, with whom she had been in a coersive incestuous relationship for years.
The reader who sent along this information said that perhaps I shouldn't have "blindly judged" this situation before all the facts were in. I don't know how I was supposed to guess that the girl in question had been lying about when she got pregnant, or that she was being abused by her brother. I could judge her only on her word. But at any rate, this incest revelation only proves the point of my post, which was never that the girl was "bad", but that horrible private behaviour has horrible consequences for society.
Incidentally, the 15 year old boy this girl, lying, named as the father of her child was tried for statutory rape. (He convinced the judge that he thought the girl was 14 and got three years' probation.)
But, thanks to my reader, I have more facts before me to help me judge if this girl is a fit influence for her four year old child. And I still say no. I am sorry that she has suffered all that she has suffered; it is truly terrible. But not only has she told (or sold) her baby's story to the tabloids, she has told (or sold) an even ghastlier one because she didn't like how the first story made her look. But now the public knows (thanks to the birth mother and the tabs) that the four year old's uncle is her father, and if the public ever figures out the four year old's name, God only knows what humiliations she will undergo. Thanks, Mum.
I agree that, given her terrible childhood, which we can blame on her brother, whose barrister used the brother's own terrible childhood in his defence, and on her parents, who possibly had terrible childhoods themselves, it might be a bit much to expect this young woman to have good judgement. However, someone with terrible judgement should not be trusted around a four year old child.
Meanwhile, I will continue to say nasty things about men who pressure women into having abortions, men who pressure women into having sex and men who commit mass murder. If that makes me "judgmental", blessed are the judgmental, for rootness in reality shall be ours.
Update: I probably should underscore that this terrible story caught my interest because I live near neighbourhoods that share symptoms of decline with this girl's childhood home. This is a Scottish story about poor people in Scotland, and I live among poor people in Scotland. I am moved by their sufferings and disturbed by cycles of abuse, degradation and poverty.
One possible factor for the continuing misery is that children do not know that it is wrong for children to have sex, either with adults or with other children. They do not know that it is wrong for children to consume alcohol, caffeine, nicotine and cannabis. They do not know it is wrong for people to conceive children out of wedlock. Possibly they do not know because those who are supposed to tell them fear accusations of being judgmental. But judgmental is what we have to be on behalf of those who have no judgement.
Tuesday, 15 June 2010
Just Friends
One difficulty that Serious Singles have is convincing Searching Singles that they are perfectly happy being Single and are not interested in a romance with a Searching Single. They might enjoy a bit of light, flirtatious conversation, but that is it. Back off.
I believe that young priests and male religious often have this problem. They must have done in my theology school where frivolous women like me conversed late at night about who was cute and who was most likely to run off with one of us. I do know that one or two young male religious were seriously bored by the histronics of a woman (not me) who had had an unhappy love affair with another male religious. Och, it's a fallen world, hen, aye.
The solution for young priests and male religious is to make friends with young married couples, and if they are more the friend of Mrs. Layman than Mr. Layman, it really doesn't matter, as long as Mrs. Layman is firmly attached to Mr. Layman and everybody knows this. Of course, there are also serious-minded Single women who would never dream of trying to attach their priest pal. But also thinking back, I seem to remember male religious stringing along such serious-minded pretty Single girls who amused them and then dropping them flat when they moved to another post. Och, it's a fallen world, etc.
Anyway, obviously in the case of male and female religious and priests, there has got to be a lot of prudence. Quite obviously young priests and nuns need friends, and as there are no longer flocks of young priests and nuns around, they are going to have to choose friends from among the laity. And those lay friends had better have their heads screwed on right.
Priests and religious, however, have the advantage of custom: even though the Baby Boom's priests and nuns abandoned ship in great numbers, in general other generations expect that priests and nuns will always be Just Friends. This is not the case for ordinary men and women who are happy Serious Singles, or are happy being Single right now.
So what are you lay Serious Singles to do when it comes to friendship? How can you avoid the agonizing "We're just friends" conversation with besmitten Searching Singles? Well, I am sorry to tell you this, but--short of locking yourselves in a tower with your pets--I don't think you can. And if you think that is hard, imagine being the Serious Single with SSA who has to tell the Searching Single with SSA that they will always be just friends.
Yes, you can minimize the hurt. When the subject of romance comes up, you can and should state your position flatly: You love life, you love people, you love your Serious Single state. You're open to friendship. You're open to flirtation and joking around. You're open to keeping things light. But not every friend is going to believe you because not everybody is rooted in reality. Many people think they can reshape reality according to their will and are gobsmacked when they find out that they can't.
Perhaps then you should look for friends with a high level of social sophistication and maturity. You could find other Serious Singles to befriend: merry widows and contented widowers, calm women with SSA, integrated men with SSA, nuns who are firm in their vocations, priests who are solid in theirs.
But you might even find friends among those who are much younger than you. Some young people are utterly charming in their surprise that "old" people, people whom they do not think sexually attractive, might find them sexually attractive. And therefore they can happily enter into confidential friendships with wrinklies and semi-wrinklies without any expectation of either party wanting to "take this relationship to another level."
Then there are married folk, although I caution the Serious Single woman who very much wants to pal around with a Married Man that the Married Man's wife might not give a damn how Serious a Single the Serious Single woman is: any time spent with the Single Woman is time the Married Man should have spent with her.
This, incidentally, is not just a problem for Serious Singles. Married people also enjoy having friends of the opposite sex and sometimes friends of the same sex who have SSA. I very much enjoy spending time with my husband's friends, and occasionally I have spent time with them without my husband. I suppose it wouldn't do to do this too often, for I might be dubbed The Wicked Mrs M, and how annoying would that be, eh?
Anyway, sound off in the com-box, my little Singles. Tell Auntie your woes.
I believe that young priests and male religious often have this problem. They must have done in my theology school where frivolous women like me conversed late at night about who was cute and who was most likely to run off with one of us. I do know that one or two young male religious were seriously bored by the histronics of a woman (not me) who had had an unhappy love affair with another male religious. Och, it's a fallen world, hen, aye.
The solution for young priests and male religious is to make friends with young married couples, and if they are more the friend of Mrs. Layman than Mr. Layman, it really doesn't matter, as long as Mrs. Layman is firmly attached to Mr. Layman and everybody knows this. Of course, there are also serious-minded Single women who would never dream of trying to attach their priest pal. But also thinking back, I seem to remember male religious stringing along such serious-minded pretty Single girls who amused them and then dropping them flat when they moved to another post. Och, it's a fallen world, etc.
Anyway, obviously in the case of male and female religious and priests, there has got to be a lot of prudence. Quite obviously young priests and nuns need friends, and as there are no longer flocks of young priests and nuns around, they are going to have to choose friends from among the laity. And those lay friends had better have their heads screwed on right.
Priests and religious, however, have the advantage of custom: even though the Baby Boom's priests and nuns abandoned ship in great numbers, in general other generations expect that priests and nuns will always be Just Friends. This is not the case for ordinary men and women who are happy Serious Singles, or are happy being Single right now.
So what are you lay Serious Singles to do when it comes to friendship? How can you avoid the agonizing "We're just friends" conversation with besmitten Searching Singles? Well, I am sorry to tell you this, but--short of locking yourselves in a tower with your pets--I don't think you can. And if you think that is hard, imagine being the Serious Single with SSA who has to tell the Searching Single with SSA that they will always be just friends.
Yes, you can minimize the hurt. When the subject of romance comes up, you can and should state your position flatly: You love life, you love people, you love your Serious Single state. You're open to friendship. You're open to flirtation and joking around. You're open to keeping things light. But not every friend is going to believe you because not everybody is rooted in reality. Many people think they can reshape reality according to their will and are gobsmacked when they find out that they can't.
Perhaps then you should look for friends with a high level of social sophistication and maturity. You could find other Serious Singles to befriend: merry widows and contented widowers, calm women with SSA, integrated men with SSA, nuns who are firm in their vocations, priests who are solid in theirs.
But you might even find friends among those who are much younger than you. Some young people are utterly charming in their surprise that "old" people, people whom they do not think sexually attractive, might find them sexually attractive. And therefore they can happily enter into confidential friendships with wrinklies and semi-wrinklies without any expectation of either party wanting to "take this relationship to another level."
Then there are married folk, although I caution the Serious Single woman who very much wants to pal around with a Married Man that the Married Man's wife might not give a damn how Serious a Single the Serious Single woman is: any time spent with the Single Woman is time the Married Man should have spent with her.
This, incidentally, is not just a problem for Serious Singles. Married people also enjoy having friends of the opposite sex and sometimes friends of the same sex who have SSA. I very much enjoy spending time with my husband's friends, and occasionally I have spent time with them without my husband. I suppose it wouldn't do to do this too often, for I might be dubbed The Wicked Mrs M, and how annoying would that be, eh?
Anyway, sound off in the com-box, my little Singles. Tell Auntie your woes.
Monday, 14 June 2010
British Reviews
Two lovely reviews, one Presbyterian and one Roman Catholic, of Seraphic Singles on amazon.co.uk.
I'm very grateful to both reviewers. Thank you!
I'm very grateful to both reviewers. Thank you!
Baby Dreams
If you are called to marry, you might be called to marry at any age. There is no age limit to marriage. You might fall in love in the sandbox and marry your lifelong love at 18. You might squander your youth on completely unsuitable characters and then marry a pious millionaire when you're 42. You might live a life of blissful solitude until 70 when you marry your best friend's widower. There is no age limit to marriage and there's no saying what can happen in this crazy world.
Not so having babies, not so. Sadly, there is an age limit to having babies.
Now, I know what you're going to say. I too studied the Bible in school from the age of six. I too know that both Sarah, wife of Abraham, and Elizabeth, wife of Zechariah, had babies when they were well past their prime. In addition, I sneak peeks at the headlines of the Daily Mail when my husband isn't looking, so I know that from time to time, in China, Uzbekistan and rural parts of Italy, a sixty-something gives birth to a bouncing baby. It ain't over until it's over, and sometimes it ain't over when you think it's over. So again there's no saying what can happen in this crazy world.
However, let's face facts: in general, it's harder to get pregnant after forty than before forty. So if you get married in the 35-45 year old region, you know that, barring miracles, you are in Last Chance for Baby territory.
I'm 39.
So anyway, I have had three baby dreams in the past two weeks. This is not bizarre in itself since I am given to lurid, colourful dreams with plots and zany characters and love affairs.
I once dreamed I went back in time and met Gilbert and Frances Chesterton, and Uncle Gilbert was very excited that I had come from the future, and he wondered where he would be in the 1940s, and I was sad because, of course, he would die before then.
I once dreamed I was in a beautiful, chaste and doomed love affair with HRH the Prince Edward, and the Queen tried to bribe me to end it. She actually wrote out the cheque before me, and I was sad because I revere the Queen and, besides that, it is terrible to be bought off by the mother of one's beloved.
And last night I dreamed I had made B.A. late for Latin Mass, and when we finally got to church, it was a different church and there was some high-minded lecture going on in a hall that had a big environmentalist poster warning us against "The Ten Ton Holiday". The Ten Tons represented our carbon footprint after vacationing somewhere warm, sunny and poor. (I blame the current virulent mural outside St. John's on Princes Street, Edinburgh for this dream.)
But I am not given to anxiety dreams about babies, so I find it significant that I am having them now.
The first baby dream was set in my parent's Toronto home, and I had been handed a baby. I was worried about this baby because he hadn't been baptized yet, and I felt he ought to be baptized, and maybe I should do it. However, this wasn't my baby, and so I didn't have the authority. Anyway, I put this baby down to sleep in a handy laundry basket in my mother's room, and he disappeared.
The second baby dream was even more stressful. I was sitting in a minivan that was careening down the highway. Somebody handed me a baby. I was worried about just holding a baby in my arms while on the highway because in cars babies are supposed to be in car seats. Then I noticed that the baby was gone. I looked around frantically. Where was the baby? He had to be somewhere. On the seat? No. On the floor? No. And then I saw that there was a great hole in the side of the minivan under the window, and I realized that the baby must have fallen through it.
The third baby dream was less stressful, but more personal since in this dream I was actually pregnant. But I think I was only a few weeks pregnant because I dithered over whether I should actually tell anybody. And then I woke up, so I stopped worrying.
So there you go. Although I cannot be in perfect solidarity with the Single, being Married, I can still be in perfect solidarity with those who have no children and feel anxious about it. We are in the same minivan, careening down the highway, wondering where the baby has gone.
Not so having babies, not so. Sadly, there is an age limit to having babies.
Now, I know what you're going to say. I too studied the Bible in school from the age of six. I too know that both Sarah, wife of Abraham, and Elizabeth, wife of Zechariah, had babies when they were well past their prime. In addition, I sneak peeks at the headlines of the Daily Mail when my husband isn't looking, so I know that from time to time, in China, Uzbekistan and rural parts of Italy, a sixty-something gives birth to a bouncing baby. It ain't over until it's over, and sometimes it ain't over when you think it's over. So again there's no saying what can happen in this crazy world.
However, let's face facts: in general, it's harder to get pregnant after forty than before forty. So if you get married in the 35-45 year old region, you know that, barring miracles, you are in Last Chance for Baby territory.
I'm 39.
So anyway, I have had three baby dreams in the past two weeks. This is not bizarre in itself since I am given to lurid, colourful dreams with plots and zany characters and love affairs.
I once dreamed I went back in time and met Gilbert and Frances Chesterton, and Uncle Gilbert was very excited that I had come from the future, and he wondered where he would be in the 1940s, and I was sad because, of course, he would die before then.
I once dreamed I was in a beautiful, chaste and doomed love affair with HRH the Prince Edward, and the Queen tried to bribe me to end it. She actually wrote out the cheque before me, and I was sad because I revere the Queen and, besides that, it is terrible to be bought off by the mother of one's beloved.
And last night I dreamed I had made B.A. late for Latin Mass, and when we finally got to church, it was a different church and there was some high-minded lecture going on in a hall that had a big environmentalist poster warning us against "The Ten Ton Holiday". The Ten Tons represented our carbon footprint after vacationing somewhere warm, sunny and poor. (I blame the current virulent mural outside St. John's on Princes Street, Edinburgh for this dream.)
But I am not given to anxiety dreams about babies, so I find it significant that I am having them now.
The first baby dream was set in my parent's Toronto home, and I had been handed a baby. I was worried about this baby because he hadn't been baptized yet, and I felt he ought to be baptized, and maybe I should do it. However, this wasn't my baby, and so I didn't have the authority. Anyway, I put this baby down to sleep in a handy laundry basket in my mother's room, and he disappeared.
The second baby dream was even more stressful. I was sitting in a minivan that was careening down the highway. Somebody handed me a baby. I was worried about just holding a baby in my arms while on the highway because in cars babies are supposed to be in car seats. Then I noticed that the baby was gone. I looked around frantically. Where was the baby? He had to be somewhere. On the seat? No. On the floor? No. And then I saw that there was a great hole in the side of the minivan under the window, and I realized that the baby must have fallen through it.
The third baby dream was less stressful, but more personal since in this dream I was actually pregnant. But I think I was only a few weeks pregnant because I dithered over whether I should actually tell anybody. And then I woke up, so I stopped worrying.
So there you go. Although I cannot be in perfect solidarity with the Single, being Married, I can still be in perfect solidarity with those who have no children and feel anxious about it. We are in the same minivan, careening down the highway, wondering where the baby has gone.
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
Madame est en vacances!
My dear little Singles, it is time for me to take some time away from the internet. So I hope you have a nice week, and I'll see you on Monday.
Grace and peace,
Auntie Seraphic
Grace and peace,
Auntie Seraphic
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