A Time To Laugh

Bought a new book today entitled "The Bad Catholic's Guide to Good Living". I'll share some portions from the introduction to the book written by Pope Alexander VI (one of the most notorious of the Borgia Popes). This is a book full of satire and wit and a love for Catholicism, a chatechesis of laughter if you will. Also included are quite a few recipes, some normal and others like "Feta Cheese Cigarettes" and "Smothered Squirrel". I plan to give it to a few "bad" Catholics I know. I highly recommend it to everyone, and it is modestly priced at 14.95.

"There aren't enough believing Catholics nowadays who are willing to laugh at themselves. Sometimes it seems that those who laugh don't believe, and those who believe don't laugh."

"One of the greatest problems in the Church over the centuries has been what we theologians call Pelagianism. It is the idea that God has established a set of perfectly reasonable rules, which are entirely within our power to obey-- and if we don't, it's just because we are weaklings. We don't belong in the Church-- which is a club for Saints. On this model, the Church is like a gourmet health spa for Olympic athletes-- or the gym run by Ben Stiller in the recent, wonderful movie Dodgeball. A place of rippling muscles, cardiovascular efficiency, and a great deal of sweating and grunting.
Any priest who has spent time hearing confessions knows better, of course. So should every self-reflective believer. In fact, the Church is less like a gymnasium than a trauma ward for gut-shot sinners. The gurneys and chairs are full of patients with varying levels of injury, while the doctors are spattered with blood. And Christ is less like an elite surgeon than the ultimate organ donor. So Catholic humor, while perfectly possible, ought to resemble the dark humor surgeons employ at the operating table-- for instance, when they make a kidney they've just removed into a little talking puppet ...
The authors seem to understand this. The "rules" laid out for man are completely impossible for him to obey in his fallen condition. Even with constant help from God, he does a pretty lousy job. The Sacraments help, of course-- in fact they're absolutely necessary-- but people screw up all the time nevertheless, even priests. (Imagine that.) We are most of us walking wounded, morally speaking. How do we deal with this fact? Pretend that it's normal, diluting the Gospel so that we can keep a good conscience? Or pretend it isn't true, and clench our fists until our knuckles turn white? Ideally, orthodoxy (correct belief) ought to lead to orthopraxy (correct behavior). To which I say, "if only." The authors of this book seem to have come to another solution, which I might call "ortholaxy." Believe it all, do what you can, admit that you're basically a bastard, and turn to the font of infinite Mercy as humbly and as often as you can. If there's one thing that's incompatible with Christianity, it's pride, or what we call today "healthy self-esteem" and a "clear conscience".

"P.S. If some of you charitable souls wouldn't mind saying a few extra intercessory prayers for the dead (see the Feast of All Souls, November 2nd, below), several of the popes in here would certainly appreciate it. Just asking ..."