P-p-p-procrastination!
Sorry I haven't posted in awhile, but I guess I'll make up for it now with a whole bunch of things. I'm putting them in separate posts so it'll be easier to read.
In other news, it's study days here at ND, and we're all slacki--er, studying for our finals. I don't have any until Wednesday, which isn't helping my motivation. Oh well, the last two days have been really nice, just hanging out and relaxing, recharging for the chaos of finals week and moving out. Next year I think I want to stay for senior week here, because a) it'd be a week at ND without homework, which sounds really cool, and b) it's not so much fun packing and studying simultaneously.
This week shouldn't be too awful tho. I have two tests on Wednesday (music theory and physics), math on Thursday, and Spanish oral on Friday. I will be done with my freshman year at approximately 10 am on Friday, May 6, and I'll leave to come home midmorning on Saturday, probably getting in fairly late.
Accents
This one goes out mainly to all my ND friends who have accused me of having a midwestern accent:
Your Linguistic Profile:
|
70% General American English |
10% Upper Midwestern |
10% Yankee |
5% Dixie |
5% Midwestern |
I have no idea where the 5% Dixie came from...weird. Maybe down in Dixieland they actually pronounce bagel like it's spelled, not like baygul. (Not that i'm bitter, mind you.)
On related tests on that site I discovered that I act like I'm 28 ("You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences."), my Irish name would be Sorcha Dunne, and *horror of horrors* my inner nationality is French. I don't know what I did to deserve that.
Thoughts on coming home
This message comes to me courtesy of "one of Andrea's friends." This is pretty much what I'd write about the end of the school year, if I was more eloquent and had more time:
A year has passed and now we stand on the brink of returning to a world where we are surrounded by the paradox of everything yet nothing being the same. In a few weeks we will reluctantly give our hugs and, fighting the tears, say goodbye to the people who were once just names on a sheet of paper to return to people that we hugged and fought tears to say goodbye to before we ever left. We will leave our best friends to return to our best friends. We will go back to places we came from and go back to the same things we did last summer and every summer before. We will come into town on that same familiar road, and even thought it has been months, it will seem like only yesterday.
As you walk into your old bedroom, every emotion will pass through you as you reflect on the way your life has changed and the person you have become. You suddenly realize that the things that were most important to you a year ago don't seem to matter so much anymore, and the things you hold highest now, no one at home will completely understand. Who will you call first? Where are you going to work? Who will be at the party Saturday night? What has everyone been up to? Who from school will you keep in touch with? How long before you actually start missing people bargaining in without calling or knocking? Who will get breadsticks with you at three in the morning? How long until you adjust to sleeping in a room by yourself, or how long before you realize your three best friends aren't in the bed next to your room?
Then you realize how much things have changed, you realize the hardest part of college is balancing the two completely different worlds you now live in, trying desperately to hold on to everything all the while trying to figure out what you have to leave behind. In the matter of one day's traveling time, we will leave our world of living next door to our best friends, walking across campus to eat, instant messenger, 8:00 classes, and perpetual procrastination to a world that will seem foreign to us despite the fact that we have lived in it for nineteen years.
But it is different now... We now know the meaning of true friendship. We know whom we have kept in touch with over the past year and whom we hold dearest to our hearts. We've left our high school worlds to deal with the real world. We have had our hearts broken, we've fell in love, we've helped our best friends through the toughest times of their lives, something their even best friends at home couldn't be there for. We've stayed up all night just to be there for a friend. We've partied the night away, doing stupid stuff, but we were always there for each other afterwards. There have been times when we've felt so helpless being hours away from home when we know our families or friends needed us most, and there are times when we know we have made a difference.
A few weeks from now we will leave. A few weeks from now we take down our pictures, and pack up our clothes. No more going next door to do nothing for hours on end. We will leave our friends whose random emails and phone calls will bring us to laughter and tears this summer. We will take our memories and dreams and put them away for now, saving them for our return to this world.
A few weeks from now from now we will arrive. A few weeks from now from now we will unpack our bags and have dinner with our families. We will drive over to our best friend's house and do nothing for hours on end. We will return to the same friends whose random emails and phone calls have brought us laughter and tears over the past year. We will unpack old memories and dreams that have been put away for the past year. A few weeks from now we will dig deep inside to find the strength and conviction to adjust to change and still keep each other close. And somehow, in someway, we will find our place between these two worlds.
In a few weeks.... are you ready?
Cool NY Times article
Wow, they actually had a good one for once (although maybe if I'm so suprised by that I should subscribe to a different e-mail paper).
I'm not sure if everyone can read it by clicking on the
link, so I'll just copy the whole thing here:
The Pope Without a CountryBy MARTIN MOSEBACH Published: April 30, 2005
Frankfurt
PEOPLE in other countries may have noticed that the official reaction of the German Catholic Church to the spectacular election of a German pope was, to put it mildly, restrained. German Catholicism is quite wealthy and very middle class. It enjoys significant state privileges and is afraid of stepping outside the bounds delineated by state and society. German bishops and prominent lay members are forever worried about losing their voice in the democratic consensus, their position within an enlightened liberal society.
It's as if they've forgotten how old the church really is, how many social systems it has outlived, how many epochal ruptures it has withstood, and the fact that it has spent entire centuries not being fully "up to date" - perhaps especially at the time of its founding in an urban, enlightened, multicultural, atomized and individualized society that it slowly infiltrated and transformed.
Pope Benedict XVI may be convinced that democratic institutions have as little right to interfere in the structure of the church as all the many emperors and kings who tried to do as much in past centuries. This stance has made him unpopular among his fellow German clergymen, who are intimidated by contemporary culture, but it also fascinates intellectuals who are far removed from the church, and who aren't swayed by any superficial rhetoric of reconciliation. In Benedict, they see the authentic representative of a religion that they don't know whether to view as still dangerous or possibly as the only remaining counter to a secular society.
As a German, I myself have always been struck by how un-German the pope is. Consider his strikingly peculiar face, his large, child's eyes lurking in their shadowy sockets, and the eager glow that seems to radiate from them even when he is absorbed in contemplation. It's rare to see a face like that in his Bavarian homeland. The great novelist Heimito von Doderer once said that all of Bavaria can be divided into a small group of butchers and a larger group of people who look like butchers. And unlike many of my compatriots, the pope is unflaggingly courteous and appears to grow even gentler in the midst of debate, though he'd never relinquish so much as an inch of ground. His enemies call him cold because he refuses to feign cordiality. And it's true: his manner shows nothing of the effusive Dale Carnegie mold so admired in Germany.
But his German is beautiful, which is particularly noteworthy for a German in a high position, since the language is not often spoken correctly, not even by native speakers. Although he is a philosopher and a theologian, he has developed a style that is crystal clear in its simplicity, but that never simplifies the complicated topics he needs to address. Is this, too, not a virtue befitting a shepherd of souls?
The name Benedict is clearly indicative of the new pontiff's program.
Even as a cardinal, the pope struggled against a tendency that saw the Second Vatican Council as some kind of "supercouncil," as if the history of the church began in 1962. "Benedict" plumbs the depths of that history down to the first Christian century, when the Latin and Greek churches were still united. The great Latin liturgy and Gregorian choral chanting have special ties with the Benedictine order. At his installation, the new pope reverted to a wool pallium in the style worn by the pontiffs of the first millennium. He had the Gospel chanted in Latin and Greek, as once was done at every papal Mass. Clearly he sees in the ancient liturgy a sign of unity between East and West.
His strictness in matters of doctrine is in part an answer to a perceived loss of clarity in both dogma and liturgy following the Second Vatican Council. But his main goal in restoring the liturgy is reconciliation with the Byzantine church. Exactly how charged this project is may be seen in the words he spoke as Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, that in reconciling with Rome, the Orthodox Church should not be expected to accord any greater primacy to the pope than it did before the schism.
Any pontiff who truly wants to build bridges must first stabilize his own embankment. While John Paul II's teachings centered on humanity in its God-given dignity, Pope Benedict might turn back to the nature of Jesus. Western theology has long been influenced by a creeping Arianism - the idea that Jesus was not of the same substance as God. It would be true to character if Pope Benedict were to invest all his zeal in the effort to recast the concept of the divine incarnation in a new language, which would once again render it understandable to modern-day theologians, teachers and intellectuals.
Coming from the lips of a man convinced there is no contradiction between faith and rationality, this precept will sound as if it had never been in doubt.
I really like the sentence in bold. It's a good approach to Vatican II - yes, it was extremely important, but it wasn't the end-all, be-all of Catholicism, and an accusation that something is "contrary to the spirit of Vatican II" is only important if you mean "contrary to the spirit of the entirety of Church teachings."
Habemus papam!
We have a Pope! Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger has become Pope Benedict XVI.
Long time no post
Wow, the rush is on! Finals week is looming and everyone's trying to figure out next year. The priest at Mass on Sunday gave a really good homily for this time of year (although he made the seniors cry!). He said that there's this big push to finals, tests, papers, registration, end of year - and then suddenly it's May 7 and you're sitting on your parents couch wondering "what just happened?" I kind of have the feeling that he knows what he's talking about, because even just thinking about the fact that I'll be moving back home after being at college for nine months is weird. Not so much the living at home part, but the
moving back after
a year of college sounds so strange.
However, I'm well on my way to planning next year. We had room picks tonight, and after way too much discussion and debate...I know where I'm going to live next year! I'll be in a quad on the first floor - it's basically two adjoining doubles with a connecting door, so we're hoping to have one "quiet" room for sleeping and then a study/hang out room. I also almost have my class schedule figured out. I think I should have some awesome classes, like "Faith, Doubt, and Reason" with Arts and Letters dean Mark Roche, and "US politics since 1865" with John McGreevy (I read parts of a history book by him last year). Also...I might not have class until 1:55 MWF. Yeah. Cool, huh? (although...looking for advice on that: is it possible to be productive in the morning without a class or something that you have to be awake for?)
ND's music department is changing things around a lot and taking away the music minor option, but I can still declare a minor through the last day of classes this semester, so that worked well.
Mono is going around the dorm somewhat so I'm trying to wash my hands as much as I can, and get enough sleep, etc. Sleep...yes...
NY Times - JPII may be "credited with destroying his church"
According to an editorial in the New York Times today, (
The Price of Infallibility, by Thomas Cahill) while JPII was a "great political leader" he was not a great religious one, and is evidentally single-handedly responsible for the (supposed) decline in church attendance and priestly vocations. Since JPII expected bishops to be completely loyal to his teachings, the episcopate is now filled with "mindless sycophants and intellectual incompetents" while the "good" priests are ignored. JPII also took the church away from its roots as the "first participatory democracy" (yes, because everyone else's opinion mattered so much after Peter spoke at the council of Jerusalem) to impose his harsh stance on the rest of the church.
This makes me want to cry...how is it that people can miss the point
so completely??
What's even more ironic is that Cahill discusses Pius IX "paranoia" about the evils facing him from the modern world, yet if someone could live for 25 years with JPII's example and still believe that his actions weren't motivated by love? That makes me a little paranoid too.
Well done, my good and faithful servant
I've just come in from a Saturday afternoon of getting things done to learn that Pope John Paul II, soon to be known as John Paul the Great (IMO), has indeed gone to be with Christ. If there ever was a man in this century who fought the good fight and finished the race, it was him. Even his last few days were a testament to his firm faith and trust in God. I can't help but think that John Paul wanted to die this way, this slow and painful death from infirmity, for the sake of his flock. This way, we've had time to absorb what was going to happen, to resign ourselves to the inevitable, and to say goodbye. In his dying, he proclaimed the gospel as loudly and and long as he could, yet he didn't "rage against the dying of the light" as Dylan Thomas' poem says. Actually, that entire poem contrasts with the life and death of the only pope I've ever known:
"Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightening they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, their last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night."
But our pope's words had "forked lightening" and his deeds truely danced. And what is more, his deeds and words were all inspired by Christ. It brings to mind a quote I read once about Mary: he was so pure of heart that when you looked at him, you see God.
My favorite memory of the Pope: when I went to see him in St. Louis, in 1998 I think, he gave a talk to all the youth gathered in the stadium. It was obviously a written speech that was drawing a comparision between athletes that played in the stadium and Christians training for heaven. At one point, he was listing all the sports people play - basketball, baseball, hockey, soccer. Then, departing from the script, he looked out at all of us and said, "Hey! They forgot to put in football!"
I really liked what Matt of the
Shrine of the Holy Whapping had to say today:
Consummatum est.I've just been told the Pope is dead. That he's been dead for an hour. They say the soul doesn't always leave the body immediately after physical death. An hour or two might pass. But that's done with by now. He's in eternity.I kept telling myself that this whole thing was just another false alarm, you know. Even yesterday I thought so. We get so anesthetized by the false starts and mistakes we pick up in the media. And there's something grotesque about just staring at a creen and watching continuous coverage; nothing ever changes until they release a new bulletin and the talking heads just weave arabesques of commentary around the old news until they've finally pounded it into our skulls. We're watching someone die on network television before our eyes. I'm not sure if that's more or less desensitizing. Maybe continuous coverage is a security blanket for us, when you can't stop thinking about it and so you get someone else to do it for you. It's the same with Terri Schiavo.Yesterday they had CNN on in the student lounge, Fox in the study room, and EWTN in the auditorium up on the big screen. Every time they just say the same thing, and we're stuck in real-time limbo.It's like junk food.I don't know. You never know what to think about the death of holy men. You're not sure whether to pray for them to rest in peace or ask them to pray for you. That's the odd thing about death: we know him so well in life, from his work, from his prayer, from his suffering, but yet he can't know every one of us individually. But among the blessed he will be able to hear our own prayers, each and every one of them. Death brings universality.I feel nervous, anxious, but, when I strip that all away, the mere physical impedimentia of emotion, I know what is meant to happen will happen; all we can do is pray for that, whatever it is. The truth is, I feel...ultimately I feel calm about it all, when you get rid of fear that crisis conditions always generate.My friend Rich says, it's like the death of a father. We're more sorry for ourselves than him. We don't want to admit to it, I guess. We don't want to admit our heroes can die. Maybe it would seem like an admission of weakness, a willful ignorance of the nasty reality of Calvary. I was talking to an agnostic friend of mine this morning, and told her I felt resigned to all this. I said to her, "His whole life has been leading up to this moment." She sort of smiled, and agreed, that the Pope had indeed had a long, full life, but that's not quite what I meant. I meant exactly what I said: that his whole life was a dress rehearsal for when he comes before God's throne and God takes him into His arms and weeps for joy.
Lord, have mercy on us.
Christ, have mercy on us.
Lord, have mercy on us.
John Paul, pray for us!
