What’s amazing is how this crosses party lines. Starry-eyed fanboys and girls will look at this and say, “Right on!,” while the other side of the aisle will recognize this as a parody of a leader who will never live up to the Messianic expectation responsible for getting him elected.

At any rate, the Jib-Jab folks just served up an ace.

A couple times a week, I encounter stories which refer to a priest’s “vows.”

Fair enough. Except for the fact that most priests never take vows, and these stories almost always erroneously apply the term to a diocesan priest.

Diocesan priests make “promises,” not “vows.”

As this article sums up nicely:

As history unfolded, these [secular, or "diocesan"] priests lived out in the world with the people they were serving. The Latin word for “world” is “saeculum”, and there’s the derivation of the expression “secular priests”, those out in the world, ministering to God’s people. As the years passed, there were men and women who voluntarily decided to go apart from the world, taking the three vows of religion, namely, poverty, chastity and obedience.

Any man or woman who makes the three vows is called a religious—a religious priest, sister or brother. This essentially is what makes a “religious” different from a “secular”. The secular priests never take the three vows of religion. They do make a promise to their bishop at ordination to obey him as their spiritual leader for a particular diocese, and they also make a promise to remain celibate—not to marry. It bears repeating, to say that diocesan priests do not take the three vows of religion—poverty, chastity and obedience. The promise of celibacy is not the same as the vow of chastity.

A former abbot primate of the Benedictine Order summed it up nicely one day in class, when he reminded us that a man or woman religious makes the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience for the good of him/herself, whereas a secular/diocesan priest makes promises for the good of the community in which he serves.

This is important, especially when discussing issues of sexual impropriety. For example, Fr. Cutie (of recent fame) broke no “vow”; as a diocesan priest, one promises to remain in the celibate state, never marrying. Technically speaking and in accordance with normative morality, however, the celibate state excludes any potential genital contact. But Cutie never directly violated his promise of celibacy (remembering that the term refers exclusively to marriage) – until he decided to leave the priesthood and marry his concubine.

Go, and grind my gears no more.

Howdy! It’s me. Remember me?

My Internet access situation has been rectified, and I’m back in action. I’m also finally developing something of a daily routine here in St. Louis, even though I’m terribly busy with a long work week at the hospital. I’m living in a great parish, and the pastor here has been nothing less than wonderful, so I’m feeling pretty good about the “domestic” part of the summer.

I’m going to blog when possible (now that I have relatively consistent access to the intertubes), but it will be slow-going over the next two months or so. With overnight shifts on top of a 40-hour work week, they keep us going.

Just so you know, I’ve also accepted a generous invitation from Joshua Claybourn to blog over at In the Agora, a group project I’ve followed since its inception. Hopefully I’ll be able to add a “Roman” perspective to the proceedings there.

Until next time…

My summer has officially begun, but I’m currently with limited Internet access. As a matter of fact, I’m currently blogging from an iPhone, of all things.

Sorry to have been so sparse around… well, everywhere lately. More to come soon, I promise.

…but to hold you over in the meantime, I bring you my favorite track off the new Dylan album, Together Through Life. Something about the accordion line on “If You Ever Go to Houston” that I can’t get enough of. It was my constant inner-theme song last week. Enjoy. (And be sure to click on the “HQ” button.)

A perfect 4 of 4.

I’ve long considered Britain’s Mojo to be the authoratative source for music reviews, and it’s encouraging to see the experts give Together Through Life a thumbs-up. Read the review here.

As for me, this only makes waiting for the 28th more difficult.

In the meantime, be sure to head on over to bobdylan.com and listen to “I Feel a Change Comin’ On” (right sidebar), which kicks off with this delightful stanza:

Well, I’m lookin’ the world over,
Lookin far off into the east.
And I see my baby comin’,
She’s a walkin’ with the village priest.

While looking at the challenges to catechesis in the United States, a keen observation:

Pragmatism. Another mark of the culture of the United States is pragmatism. A strongly individualistic, philosophical utilitarianism permeates U.S. culture, showing itself in a preoccupation with practical knowledge rather than intellectual knowledge. Many people in the United States think readily in terms of personal or corporate utility but may be less inclined to think in the abstract. This practical reorientation makes U.S. culture open to a  wide variety of new ideals and possibilities but susceptible to utilitarian purposes. An individualist consumer culture can encourage a selfishness expressed in the attitude “What’s in it for me?” (p. 24-5)

Of course, “What’s in it for me?” in our culture is primarily derived from the question, “What feels good?”

People rarely ask, “What is good?”

This is, consequently, why so many Americans – after having obtained a significant degree of wealth, pleasure, power, or honor – are miserable people.

Looks like my weekend won’t include a few hours out on the lake here, in spite of the fact that it’ll finally be warm enough to enjoy a little fishing.

My S.T.B (Sacrae Theologiae Baccalaureus) examination looms in one week, and tonight’s study session made me realize how very far I have to go in a week. It’s managable, but still challenging.

A blurb on what the S.T.B. is, exactly:

S.T.B. (Sacrae Theologiae Baccalaureus) refers to the academic degree Bachelor of Sacred Theology.

The Bachelor of Sacred Theology is offered by a number of theological colleges. It is sometimes offered as a graduate degree, for students who have already completed a BA or other first degree. It can also be offered as an “ecclesiastical degree”, granted directly by church hierarchy after one has completed requirements in addition to those necessary for a civil degree, but which are required for ordination.

Within the Catholic Church, the STB is the first of three ecclesiastical degrees in theology (the second and third are the Licentiate of Sacred Theology and Doctor of Sacred Theology respectively), and as such is granted by pontifical faculties under the authority of the Holy See. It is awarded upon successful completion of the first cycle, a three-year course of studies that aims for a comprehensive competence in theology.

Despite its name, the STB is a graduate degree, at least in the US. While acceptance to an STB programme always requires at least two prior years’ undergraduate study of philosophy, as well as knowledge of Latin and Greek, in the United States a completed undergraduate degree is generally required for admission to an STB programme. Thus it is roughly equivalent academically to an MDiv (although the STB has a more academic focus while the MDiv has a more pastoral focus), and the two are sometimes granted together.

That just about sums it up.

Pray I get my act together and do well.

…via Powerline

Via Facebook update, Domenico Bettinelli brings us a great headline: “Spokane to detonate squirrels tearing up parks”

Just innocent, quasi rat-like creatures? I think not.

Anyway, check out the Rodenator Pro, enlisted to get the job done:

Great video of this sweet little death-bringer here. The headline’s a little misleading. The squirrels will technically be either relocated or suffocated.

More likely, they’ll just build new tunnels.

A report is due out May 8th in Nature Biotechnology.

Great! Now maybe we can avoid all those sticky bioethical concerns regarding embryo harvesting, and wait to see if this is replicable with the human variety. Right?

Don’t hold your breath. (H/T: Larry)

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: The Classic Regency Romance – Now with Ultraviolent Zombie Mayhem!

Just the cover makes me want to own it.

Jane Austen just isn’t guy stuff. A little pinch of “zombie” turns anything into instant awesome, though.

(If you care to read the legitimate Pride and Prejudice – though I can’t imagine why you would -  do it with the Ignatius Critical Edition!)

UPDATE! A priest buddy of mine reminds us that Pride and Predator (follow the link, folks. You won’t be sorry) is coming to the Big Screen!

The new film from Elton John’s Rocket Pictures will have the seven-foot extraterrestrial give the characters from Pride and Prejudice something more immediate to worry about than making advantageous marriages.

Finally! Something that doesn’t bore me to tears.

If so, feel free to follow me.

I despise Twitter a little less than I once did. Ironically, Joshua Claybourn’s continuing campaign against all-things-Twitt forced me to fire up the account I’d created late last year. I was on a quest to figure out one thing: why do people use it at all?

I’m yet to find a satisfactory answer, and largely still agree with Claybourn. Here’s what I’ve seen over the last month or so:

• Microblogging. Many moons ago, I used to have a small section dedicated to links I’d find throughout the day, and they posted on the blog’s sidebar. Twitter acts as a kind of rolling list for a lot of people, though I find it to be fairly inefficient for such a task. On any user’s main interface, your links are likely to be rolled over by more posts.
• Networking. Tweet Catholic is a great place to follow folks who share similar interests.
• Random Musings and Life Updates. I’m a fan of the random, and I especially appreciate it when separated friends chime in with what they’re doing. This may annoy you, but I’ve come to depend on it as the ultimate form of passive-aggressive communication. I’ve been doing the Facebook thing for years now.
• Celebrities and Politicians. A ton of ‘em tweet. I follow a few politicians, but not many. If you want to stay up-to-the-minute with Demi Moore or Newt Gingrich though, go to town.
• Poetry. Haiku lives and breathes on Twitter. In fact, “The Cubs in Haiku” is the most entertaining thing I’ve found on the service thus far.

Really, Twitter is a lot like barking through a tin can telephone with multiple strings. As long as someone’s on the other end of the line, you’re likely to be heard. But for the average user, it mostly comes down to realtime communication.

Its ultimate value – past novelty, instant communication, and a way to waste time – seems minimal. But what do I know: Google is rumored to be interested to the tune of $1 billion.

I suppose I’ll keep going with it, if for no other reason than that I’m still trying to figure out just exactly why other people are using it.

Truth be told, I took a little break from blogs for Lent. I wanted to focus on more basic things like getting healthy and catching up with my school work, which took a big hit due to rolling bouts with illness. I’m back and doing well, however.

I’m thinking of starting something new. Beginning this week, I’ll be posting daily reflections on the Mass readings.

I write these for myself most days anyway, so why not post them here?

Of course, I’ll also get back to posting essays and other meditations soon. I suspect at least one or two (apolitical, don’t worry) should stir up some controversy. Heh.

As irony would have it (in light of my previous lighthearted post), I began taking a seminar on Christian perspectives regarding ecology this week. It’s cross-denominational by students and presenters, so we have a number of churches and traditions involved.

One of the constantly recurring themes is that of dominion (Gen 1:28). Because the presenters have no contact with one another, we’ve heard this in three of four lectures, and it’s encouraging to note that varying traditions are in agreement regarding this passage.

The contention: Humankind’s dominion over nature as mandated by God reflects God’s dominion over humanity. And as God does not see us as beings to exploit, ignore, or enslave, neither does our dominion over nature allow us to exploit, ignore, or enslave. This notion of dominion is more or less consistent throughout the Scriptures.

Overall, it’s refreshing to see how Christianity represents a “middle way” in regard to ecology, as it does in so many other issues. Even though we maintain dominion, we have a responsibility toward stewardship. At the same time, however, we do have dominion. The two extremes – representing humanity as some kind of impediment to the natural world (as is the case with many environmentalists) versus the perspective that creation is ours for the taking, damn the torpedoes – find no place in the via media presented to us in recent days.

It’s been a busy week, but a fairly interesting one. I’ve officially started Spring break (albeit a day late), and am looking forward to Holy Week. Hope yours is a blessed one as well.

…free download of “Beyond Here Lies Nothin‘” from bobdylan.com.

What’s absolutely amazing about this track? Not Dylan or the lyrics, as much as I like them, but the band. I’m not used to hearing bands cook like this on a studio track, where everything nowadays is so manufactured and overproduced.

Great stuff, Bobby. Can’t wait for the new album.

This post by Kathy Shaidle prompted me to inquire, “What was I doing at 8:30 last night during this whole Earth Hour deal?”

At exactly 8:30 PM, I left the family home after watching Villanova beat Pitt. I left the T.V. on, along with the three computers I’d used throughout the evening, just in case the dogs wanted to check their email while I was gone, or catch the post-game wrap-up. And just in case they wanted to drive to Best Buy to pick me up something, I left the back door open with the house’s heater going strong (just in case they decided to stay in). Oh, and the lights: I left three or four of those on, too. I then proceeded to drive a few blocks (chlorofluorocarbons! CO2!) to my sister’s house, where we turned on more lights and another television.

Is it wrong that in reviewing my evening, I feel nothing but loathing for those who suggest I should’ve done something differently?

In my defense (should I need to raise one), at least I’m more conscientious about power usage at school: you guys (or at least the good people of Joliet and Chicago) pick up that tab, and it’s bad stewardship to be wasteful. This has always been my approach to rectory living as well.

But this notion of universal stewardship in regard to power resonates not one iota in my apparently cold, blackened, cynical heart. Build another nuclear power plant. We have half a dozen right down the road, and I have yet to melt or transform into a fair-haired version of the Incredible Hulk.

In the end: I reject the growingly compulsory approach to the religion of environmentalism. I already have my savior, and it ain’t Mother Earth.

Time to go eat pizza and drink a couple beers with some visitors from the internship parish, which will no doubt increase my carbon footprint through the production and release of methane gas.

(Note: The picture above comes from an environmentalist website. A Google Images search for “hippies” yields this gem on the first page. Go figure.)

Outside of the occassional YouTube video post, I’ve been rather quiet over the past couple weeks. I know I still owe some of you emails, so thanks for your patience; I’ll be responding shortly.

So, what’s shakin’?

• A change in the weather means more illness. Nothing like the flu I caught near the end of February, though. Good riddance to that. If anyone has a spare “pair” of sinuses handy, send them my way.
• Last quarter is done. Good riddance to that also.
• The Kindle 2 is still awesome. Too bad I’ve been strapped for free reading time lately.
• I like my classes. This goes a long, long way.
• I thought about growing a mullet for diaconate ordination, and this became a kind of running joke amongst friends. Though I imagine I was the one most amused by it. I’d planned on furnishing the sidewalls with an alpha and an omega. A little something for the people in the pews. “All good things…”, however: the quasi-mullet met an unceremonious end about 24 hours after someone came up to me in the hallway and said, “Josh, if I give you $5, will you get a haircut?” Anyway, it’s simply too much effort to keep a quality mullet going nowadays, what with all that sleeping I prefer to do in the mornings

I haven’t had much time for the blogosphere lately. And frankly, I haven’t had the gumption. More on that later. But I can recommend two blogs my regulars might not be following, which always take a reasonable and educated look at faith, theology, philosophy, politics and culture. The first is Carl Olson’s Insight Scoop, and the second is the group-run Cosmos-Liturgy-Sex. Add ‘em to the rolls.

More a little later on.

From Daniel Hannan, MEP:

The political message is fantastic, but that’s not makes this such an effective speech. Everything is perfect here in regard to public speaking: the eye contact, the body language, the use of gestures, the casual reference to his notes…

…and lastly, the thing that nobody pays much attention to: pacing and inflection.

This annoys me to no end in most homilies. The notion that you have to speak slowly because of echo or any other spatial factor is nonsense in most places. All you’ll end up doing is lulling your audience to sleep, because your words lack the energy to keep people involved.

The best strategy for keeping folks involved? Vary your pace. Speed up to emphasize points, and vary your tone. This has 36,000 views in a day not only because of its solid message, but also because you believe Hannan believes.

Just before Starbuck commits to the action leading to the ultimate climax of the series, Starbuck mutters aloud, “There must be some kind of way out of here.”

I blinked. Nobody phrases it like that, except for Dylan. But why would Dylan appear so blatantly in a science fiction plot? I shrugged and kept watching.

And sure enough, as the scene fades away in the series’ final episode, Hendrix’s version of “All Along the Watchtower” plays in the background.

It’s a weird and discordinant allusion. But then again, the final episode was weird and discordinant.

The best I can do with it: “But let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.”