Reflections on a Novelist

I don't have anything else to post, and I feel like posting something. I wrote this for English class.

Many negative book reviews in publications such as The National Catholic Register share the same error. The reviewers assume that a novelist cannot be Catholic because the morals he presents are too loose, the lives he portrays too pagan, or the universe he describes too full of despair. These reviewers mistake a novel for something else. Those who require a picture of perfection, ideals, or moral uprightness should not look to a writer, but to a preacher; to a homily, not to a novel. “The writer uses his eyes on what he happens to be facing,” states Flannery O'Conner in a discussion of the Catholic novelist, “... He does not decide what would be good for the Christian body and proceed to deliver it.” It is the preacher's job to deliver a wholesome meal to the faithful, whereas the writer merely attempts to portray human existence. An in-depth comparison of these two roles, preacher and writer, perhaps will help determine what a Catholic writer really is.

The confusion between preacher and novelist is understandable. After all, both men seek to put the truth into words. They must follow the limitations of their linguistic art form. Further, both the Catholic novelist and the priest are, in fact, Catholic. Their world views should be very similar, if not the same. To be truly Catholic means to start every action, especially writing and teaching, from Christ and His will. So the Catholic novelist and the Catholic homilist both start from the same place, and use the same tool – language – to accomplish their task.

However, the things they make are very different. A homily and a novel are two separate literary forms, with different purposes and rulebooks. The priest, before he pens his sermon, must first focus on what his flock needs to hear – the homily's basic purpose is to nourish. He then begins his role as an exegete, expanding upon and explaining Scripture to improve the spiritual health of his parishoners. He does not create, and he does not explore uncharted territory – he merely helps those who listen to understand what is already there. The priest is also responsible for the moral edification of the faithful. He needs to tell them what they should do. He deals with the ought – the moral right – not necessarily with the is.

The novelist, on the other hand, is supremely and fundamentally focused on what is in front of him. In his writing, he attempts to show nature accurately to those who read. The moral question of what ought to be done is not quite so relevant to him as to the pastor; what a specific character would do in a given situation is the novelist's focus, not what that character should do. The right and the wrong, as well as the good and the bad are laid open for observation, exploration, and internalization without any forced message. In a truly unique role, the novelist can almost create life for his readers to watch, marveling along with the author at its intricacy. In a novel, the utilitarian function of a homily – the need to nourish the faithful ear – fades as human experience, perhaps even life itself, becomes the focus. As proof, the novel is appreciable by any reader, independent of his circumstances, but the homily must be tailored to its audience.

A novelist, then, serves as a prophet of sorts. He stands in front of all of mankind, not with a convincing, heartbreaking moral, nor with a fabulous picture of eternity, but with a mirror. He shows humanity to itself in all of its sin, in all of its despair, in all of its pagan hedonism, and in all of its hidden jewels. The novelist who is truly Catholic, then, is not the one who produces a good, nourishing feeling, but the one who makes us think, for one moment, about who we really are.

Great Lie

"Religion is the opiate of the masses," quoth Karl Marx. Most Christians find this statement for all the wrong reasons. "Religion isn't an opiate," they retort, "It's true, and I believe it." Although this might be the case, it does not address Marx's statement in all of its insidiousness. Marx makes a statement about reality as lived by a human being, which mere belief cannot counter.

By calling religion an "opiate," Marx implies two basic premises - first, that the world we live in is so gray, mundane, tiresome, sorrowful, and awful that we need something to take our mind off of it, and, second, that religion fills that need. Of these two premises, the first is the one I wish to examine - within it lies one of the largest problems that plagues the modern age.

"Life sucks, and then you die." Who hasn't heard this truism before? And, honestly, who can argue with it? Our life is occupied, almost primarily, by suffering and the deaths of others, especially those close to us, until we ourselves succumb to the oppressive material universe and kick the bucket. Life is filled with rejection: although human beings are supposed to be the most rational and compassionate of animals, we find ourselves constantly attacked by our fellow man. Life is filled with suffering: aches, pains, illnesses, and calamities of the soul are our constant companions. Earthquakes and tsunamis destroy entire inhabited islands, tornadoes rip apart preschools, and volcanoes engulf entire cities in flames. No man can arrogate himself above this material plight. Sin is undeniable. The true, the good, and the beautiful are fleeting moments of reprieve that are not lasting. All good things come to an end, because suffering and death win in the end.

This is the basic assumption that Marx makes about human existence. Religion exists to pull the wool over the eyes of troubled sheep, tricking them into ignoring the calamities around them to shield them from the pain. Doctors, nurses, priests, and poor-boxes fight a losing battle against the tide of overwhelming suffering.

If we accept this view of the universe, Christianity does not exist. First, let's look at this scripturally: God created the earth, or all of our earthly existence, and "saw that it was good." God, as all good, can create nothing evil or painful. Pain only exists because we are fallen away from the good God intended for us. But this is not the end of Christianity. Our Christian beliefs do not end with Christ in the tomb, but with Christ risen. Through Christ's suffering and death, we are brought to new life, and the entirety of creation rejoices as a new earth. When Christ rolled away the stone, he changed the nature of everything. Suffering is no longer the end - suffering itself leads to eternal life and happiness. Love is so powerful that it does not just conquer death and leave it as a ghost, but changes even death into life. Death and suffering are no more what they were - they are the very means of our salvation. God can turn even evil into good.

Thus the Church stands diametrically opposed to the modern, gray view of existence. She stands before the towering waves and battering winds, firm on her foundation of rock, to proclaim that even to drink the cup of death is to imbibe joy. The Christian sees in the suffering gold purified by flame - a gold even more precious and more beautiful than before. Existence can squall and rage, but the Christian laughs in wonder at a God who can not only calm a storm, but bring calm about by means of a storm.

Because this world is, in fact, so good, the entirety of Christianity exists in order to give thanks. The extreme opposite of the "opiate of the masses," the Christian religion states that no opiate is necessary - our life is so good that no amount of praising can thank God enough. This spirit of thanksgiving is the crucial foundation of a Christian world view. To thank God is to be a Christian, and all Christianity flows from this thanksgiving. That is why the Eucharist (Greek, thanksgiving) is the "source and summit" of our faith. This spirit of thanksgiving is the air that we Christians breathe, this ethos of Eucharist is the only response worthy of so great a God, who does not bring about life in spite of death, but because of and through it.

The Modern Pharisee

Satan is a tactical genius. He found that a media system which stretches from sea to shining sea, across borders, and to all four corners of the globe could be used to broadcast immorality. And because of our inheritance, concupiscence, this exposure to blatant immorality would lead us naturally to imitate. Although it is true that what comes from within does not taint, but that which comes from without, our moral consciences, the level that sets our decision-making straight, must be formed by external material. And if all the movies, songs, and magazines we imbibe contain only filth, we will vomit the same filth back out into the world.

This move the devil has made is not at all his genius strike. With this spear he thrusts not at those dredged in sin - if we can believe Lewis, neither God nor Satan wants the tepid man who sins because he does not know better. No, Satan wields the modern, corrupted media as a weapon against those who would otherwise be holy and well educated. Even those who avoid the sting of the vicious television set are wounded by its filth.

How? If those poor souls secreting themselves away from the vile onslaught do not intake the filth, how can they be hurt? Would not someone who avoids the blow avoid also the damage? However, we cannot assume that because our minds are safe from the numbing sexual images, because our consciences are safe from the ceaseless blows, or because we see no evil and hear no evil, that we will think no evil. One cannot hide from temptation completely.

The fatal second strike of Satan comes at those who hide from him most in their pride. The moment the sheltered Catholic child begins to think in terms of "us" and "them," in terms of good people who watch good movies and bad people who watch bad movies, he falls victim to the sin that Christ condemned most vehemently. "Thank God that I can keep my children from watching these movies," is what any parent would say, but the afterthought lurks in the shadows, unannounced, but deadly, "unlike those other children."

All human beings share the same nature. As a result, any kind of "us vs. them," "Catholic vs. Protestant," "saved vs. sinner," is of necessity a flawed argument. I am not saying, of course, that the all media is good - verily, some of it stinketh. But we can never say that those who produce or consume bad media are bad. We must completely and permanently dissociate the sin and the sinner. This leads us to a strong statement - I and that sinner over there are brothers. Our positions are interchangeable - a human "I" for a human "I."

We cannot assume that simply because we were brought up Catholic, because we went to Catholic schools, because we were altar boys, or even because we go to Mass and pray the rosary daily, that we are better than anyone else. Each and every one of these very good things are gifts from God, and yet none of them make us good people. To use the word "good" in the moral sense to describe a person cannot follow - how can we use an adjective which qualifies a moral act as right or wrong be applied to a human being - a moral actor? We cannot argue that a person who tends to do good things is good or that a person who does bad things is bad. Either of these people is capable of turning towards or away from God in each individual moment. Granted, a person may be virtuous, which would mean only that he tends to do the good, not that he himself is good. We are what God has given us, no more no less. And He called us all "good" after our creation - good in the sense that each of us has the capacity to become what He intended us to be, good in the sense that we each have the blessing of existence, and good in the sense that we can strive to worship Him in every moment, with every choice, and with every breath.

Therefore, any person who calls himself "good," calls another "bad," or makes a distinction between the "Catholic, conservative, homeschooling group" and the "filth-watching, immoral, publicschooling group" is a pharisee. Christ condemned all such people, so how can we avoid the fate of pride? The only means to salvation is through personal contact - with those around us, even those with tattoos, nose rings, and foul language; and with Christ.

Perhaps the reason Christians get a bad name.

Today, I got this e-mail in my inbox. And I quote:

For those of you who do not know, the Freedom of Choice Act (FOCA) is set to be signed if congress passes it on January 21-22 of 2009. The FOCA is the next sick chapter in the book of abortion. If made a law then all limitations on abortion will be lifted which will result in the following:

1) All hospitals, including Catholic hospitals will be
required to perform abortions upon request. If this happens Bishops vow to close down all Catholic hospitals, more then 30% of all hospitals in the United States.

2) Partial birth abortions would be legal and have no
limitations.

3) All U.S. tax payers would be funding abortions.

4) Parental notification will no longer be required.

5) The number of abortions will increase by a minimum of 100,000 annually.

Perhaps most importantly the government will now have control in the issue of abortion. This could result in a future amendment that would force women by law to have abortions in certain situations (rape, down syndrome babies, etc) and could even regulate
how many children women are allowed to have.

Needless to say this information is disturbing, but sadly true. As Catholics, as Christians, as anyone who is against the needless killing of innocent children, we must stand as one. We must stop this horrific act before it becomes a law.

The e-mail continues to list an idea for saying a novena.

Now, before I continue, please understand two things. I believe completely in the power of prayer. If nothing else can stop the monstrosity that is FOCA, prayer can. Also, FOCA is definitely an evil abuse of power that the constitution of the US does not allow. For both moral and logical reasons, this bill should not be passed.

That aside, the e-mail is riddled with factual errors.

"1) All hospitals, including Catholic hospitals will be
required to perform abortions upon request. If this happens Bishops vow to close down all Catholic hospitals, more then 30% of all hospitals in the United States.

In fact, the bill states that "...a government may not deny or interfere with a woman's right to choose..." (Section 4.b.1). [source 1] The bill nowhere says that all individual hospitals must offer abortion as a service.

"3) All U.S. tax payers would be funding abortions."

All US tax payers already fund abortion because US money goes directly to all state hospitals, which perform abortions, and Planned Parenthood.

"5) The number of abortions will increase by a minimum of 100,000 annually."

There are only one million abortions per year (study in 1996, I can't find anything more recent) [source 2]. The likelihood of it increasing by 10% after this bill passes is minimal. I'd like to know where this figure came from.

Now, why am I writing this? Shouldn't people pray to end FOCA?

Writing things like this gives Christians a bad name. The secular world thinks that we are ignorant people clinging for our life to a sinking ship, while the guns of science and facts hasten our doom. This e-mail is typical of what they think of us. We are simply ignorant fools who pray to a deaf God simply because we are too stupid to do anything else. Obviously, the idea is false, but a reader of this e-mail couldn't tell otherwise.

For the Church's sake, don't forward e-mails like this around. We are not ignorant, illogical fools who don't know better. Let's act like it.

~Ambrose

Sources:
1. The text of the bill can be found at http://thomas.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/z?c110:H.R.1964
2. http://www.abortionno.org/Resources/fastfacts.html