About those lapsed Catholics...

While I go take my next dose of Tamiflu, please click on over to these two blogs.

At Wheelie Catholic, you'll find a post about how, in the case of parishioners with disabilities, the church often creates lapsed Catholics -- but not lapsed believers. Long post, worth reading in its entirety.

At Ironic Catholic, you'll find "Dear Communion of Saints," a satirical advice column that hits the mark about some of the Pew study results with exquisite rueful-laughter generating precision.

In another post and after the room stops spinning, I'll respond in depth to a comment left by Barbara on an earlier post of mine.

Religious Landscape is Rocky for Roman Catholics

Please visit Whispers in the Loggia to read the full text of a Washington Times article about what the latest Pew Research reveals about contemporary Catholicism in the United States. Analysts are zooming in on what we've known for a while. American Catholics are heading for evangelical or Pentecostal churches. In droves. Why?

Those churches are perceived as more passionate, more alive than the Catholic church. Their congregates seem to understand that The Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20) is something that they -- all of them -- are called to fulfill. Every day. While we're busy arguing about altar rails, these churches are holding altar calls. The Holy Spirit descends, ascends, fills, and overflows whether or not there's a bishop in attendance.

Once upon a time, Catholics had all this vibrancy and more. Our precious Jewish legacy was revealed in our contributions to the world of arts and letters, our commitment to tikkun olam. Catholics had a cultural identity that was grounded in a religious ethos. We could have this again and seem to be re-generating passionate faith not in church buildings, but in the domestic church and through grass roots social justice efforts. But who would know?

In addition to everything else, evangelical and Pentecostal churches seem to be more willing and able to use new media to communicate church and faith. In The Word Made Fresh, I explain how the very culture and structure of liturgical churches has historically served to impede innovative communications. And yes, I offer practical suggestions for dredging our considerable light out from a bushel basket heaped with vestments and altar linens.

How wonderful, how Holy Spirit that these research results are hitting the secular news during Lent. What better time to rise and shine?

U.S. Religious Landscape Survey

The Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life has just released its latest research report on the religious affiliation of the American public. I've taken a quick tour through their survey findings (N= 35,000), but really must get back to the marinade I'm concocting for tonight's salmon.

I do plan, however, to spend more time clicking around the website. It seems to be very robust, allowing viewers to engage in a bit of multivariate analysis. I'll be zooming in on data about Catholics and comparing it to data on Jews, especially those who don't identify with a particular denomination. I'm sure this will reveal something about...something.

Doesn't sound like much fun? Trust me, it is for sociologists and will be for this one!

Schlepping Through Lent

Not even two weeks have passed since I wrote about the value of dialing down for Lent. My big plan was to keep it simple and, mostly, I have. Today, on this third Sunday of Lent, please feel free to have a good laugh on/at me.

With 27 days left to go on this Lenten journey, I have become the cranky toddler who is whimpering, "Are we there yet?" Good thing today's first reading is about yet more grousing among the ancient Israelites during their schlep to the Promised Land. Note to self: Get onto knees and thank God that Lent doesn't last for 40 years.

As for that spiritual practice I was so inward-ho about? The one that involves contemplating (in writing!) what God is revealing about my life? Not so much fun. Actually, not fun at all. Downright uncomfortable. Right now, giving up chocolate and participating in soup-n-salad suppers and Living Stations extravaganzas is looking more attractive and certainly less challenging than 40 days of private prayer and contemplation -- even with the joyful knowledge that resurrection awaits.

The Visitation: John L. Allen, Jr.

By choice and preference, I don't get out much, so when I do it's generally for something special. This week's "something special" was John Allen's talk at the Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi in Metuchen, NJ.

What a smart, delightful, and laugh-out-loud witty speaker, which is not exactly what you might expect from a Vatican correspondent for CNN. Some content from his talk can be found in his weekly column for the National Catholic Reporter, "All Things Catholic."

In person, Allen's commentary about what (and if) the Holy See thinks about the antics of U.S.-based Catholics was especially lively. I found myself muttering -- and not for the first time -- that we're a nation of narcissists.

Speaking of narcissism, I was over-the-full-moon thrilled by Allen's many references to Sociology and sociologists, especially the fact that he was willing and able to quote August Comte's observation that "demography is destiny." Just so happens that I devote an entire chapter to the value of understanding demographics in my new book, The Word Made Fresh: Communicating Church and Faith Today (Morehouse Publishing. Pub date: July 2008).

As for swooning over Sociology, here's a factoid: During the 1970s, Sociology was considered very cool and essential training for anyone considering a career in law, politics, marketing, and communications. I earned my doctorate in Sociology from New York University. Anyone care to take a wild guess what my dissertation was about? Which specialized courses I taught for a decade?

Do 1099-ers Have Snow Days?

Snow day!!!
Wait.
I work from a home office. What's the big whoop?

Like just about every other day at this time, I'm in my pajamas. My driveway may not be plowed, but I've already plowed through a virtual pile of email and read through my favorite blogs. My "To Do" list of billable work is in my face.

I'm listening to Mozart because, yes, it really does enhance productivity and don't try to tell me it doesn't. I'm typing with one cat on my lap, another peering out the window, and the third one wandering around in search of some place carpeted to hack up a hairball. I'm worrying about how and when I'll get over to Ruth's. So how is today different from all other days?

It isn't. But it is. The day is soft, quiet, and dim with still-falling snow, which feels like grace. I find grace more believable than magic. Psalm 118:24 and all that.

A holiday by any other name...would?

This just in from one of my saucier gal pals, one who has kids enrolled in something known as "secondary elementary school." Whatever that means.

The little darlings enrolled in this public school will not be celebrating Saint Valentine's Day. Instead, they'll be celebrating "Sharing and Caring Day." Could you brech or what?

I feel like getting into my car, driving over there, and running through the halls shrieking, "Merry Christmas!!!!!"

My Funny Valentine. Not.

I've been going to the same tax accountant since 1980, but our St. Valentine's Day get-together began only a mere decade ago. I may have to rethink this for next year, although given my history, I suppose there's no better day to be asked "any alimony?"

"I barely got any at the time and certainly haven't for nine years, so quit asking," I said this morning.

"I have to ask," he said.

Oh, really?

Isn't it humiliating enough to be asked, after handing over the 1099-Misc forms, "Any other income? Any royalties?"

St. Valentine's Day Don'ts

St. Valentine's Day is almost here and if you're planning to get married on that day, I recommend you do not.

I did. Many many years ago.

And when that marriage didn't "work out," I found myself wishing I had chosen a wedding date with less goopy significance. I would be oh-so-relieved when the presiding J.C.L. didn't throw a lung laughing upon seeing it on my annulment petition. I was also grateful the Tribunal did not base its ruling on Canon 1095,30. In fact, all the Church officials I encountered during the annulment process were extraordinarily kind and compassionate. Meeting with the tax accountant on St. Valentine's Day...something I've been doing for the past decade? Entirely my idea.

Zooming Inward for Lent

No surprise -- my key Lenten practice involves keeping a journal. Although I generally end up receiving an overabundance of Lenten journals, I don't use them. I do not want another writer's thoughts seeping into my own.

I write because I'm a writer, but also because I like having tangible, visible evidence of accountability. More accurately: I need evidence of my accountability.

Years ago, I embraced this discipline when I discovered that saying, "I'll keep you in prayer" had become a routine utterance akin to, "Hey, how are ya?" Had I, in fact, prayed for someone as promised? I decided to write out my intercessory prayers. My journal provides an integrity check.

Next, I got into the habit of writing out my prayers of petition. How often and about what was I bugging God? When and how did God come through? My journal provides a reality check about God's faithfulness and perfect timing.

Last year, during an especially difficult season of Lent, I realized I needed to focus on God's call, which I knew I could discover in mundane activities. And so, for forty days I actively contemplated every situation, every interaction, every so-called coincidence and then, in writing, answered this question: What has God revealed today about His will for my life? My journal became a guide for the rest of the liturgical year.

Right now, I can't imagine what will be revealed during this year's Lent, but at least I'll have it in writing!

Dialing Down for Lent

About a week ago, I began noticing how frenetically devoted Catholic websites and parishes are to ensuring that I have lots to do during Lent. It's as if I'm a cranky toddler, the Lenten journey is a 40-day car trip, and the Mother Church doesn't want me to be bored.

If I responded to every call to participate, my calendar would be jammed on a weekly basis with Stations of the Cross, Lenten Vespers, Taize prayer, soup-n-salad suppers, labyrinth walks, and opportunities to ramp up my community service. I could also pencil in a parish Seder, a Tenebrae service, a parish penance service, and a special day of prayer for women -- before even getting to the Triduum.

This year I've decided to dial down for Lent. I'm going to keep it simple and will reveal more about my key Lenten practice in another post. And no, I am not referring to working on the fabulous paint-by-number version of DaVinci's "Last Supper" that I found at Tuesday Morning for $9.99.

Lent begins!

My dear yeshiva-educated and yoga center director friend Deborah wants to know:

What do you say, have a good Lent? Happy Lent? Oy vey?

Well, according to my mother, the correct salutation would be: "Oy vey, Maria." Meanwhile, I've decided to observe Ash Wednesday by letting my furniture return to dust as well.

Come to the Table: A Catholic Passover Seder

How is this seder different from other Christian seders?

Years ago, I decided to create a seder that would reveal Judaism's legacy to Catholics by highlighting the symbolic (and liturgical) similarities of our faiths. I also wanted Catholics to better understand the history of Jewish-Catholic tensions and to appreciate the challenges of reconciliation. And, I wanted to make all this available in a book that provided practical instructions for creating a seder in either a parish or home setting. Not too ambitious, eh?

I'm happy to report that more parishes adopt Come to the Table each year. During the past three years, I've received lovely notes from people who have used this seder service at home. I'm starting to hear from catechists who are using this little book to teach about the Eucharist throughout the year. Last year, I had the privilege of presiding at a parish-wide seder at the Church of St. Luke (Plainfield, NJ).

This year's liturgical calendar crunch seems to be throwing everyone into a tizzy about whether they can, in fact, put together a seder at this point. I say you can! Why not? The book provides the service -- you just have to pull together the food, the table settings, readers, and a presider. People will show up for this event.

And yes, churches do receive a discount on bulk orders. Please contact me directly: meredith@meredithgould.com. And yes, you can get an autographed copy if you buy directly through Plowshares Publishing.

Candlemas! Pancakes!!

So fixated am I on Lent and so in denial am I about it being early this year that I nearly forgot today is: 1) The Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord; 2) The Feast of the Purification of the Virgin; 3) Candlemas; 4) All the above. Good thing Google Reader just delivered Sweetness and Light!

Candlemas is traditionally when all ceremonial candles that will be used in the coming year are blessed. And aren't you blessed if you belong to a parish that observes this lovely tradition. If you don't and can't find a church nearby that does, then eat pancakes. Huh?

Pancakes are traditional fare for Candlemas. Their sunny color and shape supply gustatory support for this English proverb:

If Candlemas be fair and bright,

Winter has another flight.

If Candlemas brings clouds and rain,

Winter will not come again.

Well, it's currently 41 degrees Fahrenheit and somewhat bright, so I'm heading out to IHOP. Since I know that anything eaten in a car while driving is devoid of calories, I'll see if I can get a short stack to go.

Giving it up for Lent

I've always been suspicious of people who give up chocolate for Lent, especially women who feel compelled to do this. Haven't they read the research about chocolate's health benefits? I also wonder about folks who become a bit too keen on fasting, especially those who hop onto a scale each Thursday morning during Lent to help them discern how much, if any, mac-n-cheese to scarf down along with Friday's fish.

These sacrifices seem to be an excuse for dieting rather than an effort to become more keenly aware of Our Lord & Savior's salvific actions. Not that I'm against dieting. My computer desktop has a shortcut to a list of one point foods. Gee, maybe I'll give up that distracting obsession for Lent. Or maybe I should give up giving up and devote forty days to focusing on what's truly important:

This is what the Lord asks of you;
only this,
to act justly,
to love tenderly,
and to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6:8

My pre-Lent Carnival

According to custom, the weeklong festivities before Ash Wednesday are called "carnival" time because, in Latin, carne levarium means removal of meat. For me it has meant "removal of brains."

I have practically lost my mind to and certainly fried my brains with DVDs and viewing stuff online via Netflix, hulu.com, hbo.com, and abc.com. Yes, there's a reason I haven't owned a television or subscribed to cable service for nearly a decade. Periodic binges help me remember this.

In my own defense, I'll note that I did mix a few morsels of spiritual nutrition in with the brain candy. Among them: Journey to the Heart: Henri Nouwen, a documentary about...Henri Nouwen, and Ushpizin, a delightfully quirky Israeli flick about the mitzvah of welcoming strangers during Succot. Absolutely not among them: Thérèse, a movie so jaw-droppingly awful that I ejected the DVD after ten excruciatingly long minutes of watching on screen drivel.

Thanks to the writer's strike, I've been able to wean myself away from watching the prime time soap operas "Brothers & Sisters" and "Grey's Anatomy." Still, last night I was powerless over checking abc.com. I promptly got sucked right back into two hours of "Lost," which I'd successfully quit at the end of its way-too-weird second season. This, mind you, was after watching thirty minutes of "In Treatment" on HBO.

"In Treatment," aired for not even a full analytic hour, features a different client every night. I forget for how many weeks this program is scheduled. Doesn't matter. I'm determined to stop watching after tonight. In tonight's episode, the psychiatrist (protagonist) is supposed to have a session with his own therapist. Sure hope he talks about bungling several sessions this past week. These would be the sessions during which I found myself muttering, "get clinical supervision."

Okay, so maybe I will tune in next week to see if he has learned anything -- but only on Monday and Tuesday. Lent begins Wednesday. Guess what I'll be renouncing.