Happy Laetare Sunday (and happy Mother's Day to my UK friends). Be sure to check out the full carnival at RAnn's. since I missed last week, I'll post my posts from the last 2 weeks:
Book Nook: Knights, Nobles, and Knaves
Score Another for Intuition
Book Nook: St Francis and the Wolf
Home Remedies
Easter and Ishtar
Crafty Thursday
Irony
The Way God Works
10 March 2013
8 March 2013
The Way God Works
I've made it no secret that I dislike living in Florida (too hot and humid!). While I enjoy seeing family more, I am an Anglophile and miss Liverpool and our friends there. I hold out hope that we'll be able to return, but lately we've been shown that God's had a reason for having us here.
That reason is Leo. When we needed his posterior tongue tie divided, we were able to find a doctor near us. I know that isn't true for all in the US, but it was for us right now. I also know there are many places in England that can help with this.
More than that, though, is the matter of his gallstones. When he was first diagnosed, I of course searched online for information. One of the top hits was for a US children's hospital that said the treatment for symptomatic pediatric gallstones was removal of the gallbladder. Surgery isn't something we wanted unless absolutely necessary, and of course scared us. Obviously we would've done it if necessary, but the specialist (who is close to us) wanted to try medicine first. When it was clear the medicine wasn't working, the specialist didn't then run to surgery, but ordered labs. We had an appointment today, and his labs were normal (Deo gratias!) so the ARNP agreed there was no reason for surgery. We are thankful that we've found doctors who will take action as necessary, but are also conservative in that. I'm sure that could be done elsewhere, too, but right now I know God's put us here for Leo, and so I will say glory be to God.
That reason is Leo. When we needed his posterior tongue tie divided, we were able to find a doctor near us. I know that isn't true for all in the US, but it was for us right now. I also know there are many places in England that can help with this.
More than that, though, is the matter of his gallstones. When he was first diagnosed, I of course searched online for information. One of the top hits was for a US children's hospital that said the treatment for symptomatic pediatric gallstones was removal of the gallbladder. Surgery isn't something we wanted unless absolutely necessary, and of course scared us. Obviously we would've done it if necessary, but the specialist (who is close to us) wanted to try medicine first. When it was clear the medicine wasn't working, the specialist didn't then run to surgery, but ordered labs. We had an appointment today, and his labs were normal (Deo gratias!) so the ARNP agreed there was no reason for surgery. We are thankful that we've found doctors who will take action as necessary, but are also conservative in that. I'm sure that could be done elsewhere, too, but right now I know God's put us here for Leo, and so I will say glory be to God.
7 March 2013
Irony
Isn't it ironic that Catholics are (rightly) renowned for being pro-life, yet many parishes are less-than-welcoming of families with young children unless those children are robots? Isn't it ironic that many parishes have statues of/devotions to the Holy Family and/or the Infant of Prague, yet don't welcome the babies and toddlers in the pews? And then, when these families find it too stressful to continue attending Mass or bringing their children to Mass, everyone complains that people are leaving, the parish is dying, and vocations are decreasing. That should hardly be surprising, though. Those who remain despite the sometimes-daily looks and comments end up being stressed at times. At least I do. The children also sense it and can dread going to Mass, which is not good at all.
While not an exact parallel, I cannot help thinking of this passage from James 2:1-5 (New Jerusalem Bible):
"1 My brothers, do not let class distinction enter into your faith in Jesus Christ, our glorified Lord.
2 Now suppose a man comes into your synagogue, well-dressed and with a gold ring on, and at the same time a poor man comes in, in shabby clothes,
3 and you take notice of the well-dressed man, and say, 'Come this way to the best seats'; then you tell the poor man, 'Stand over there' or 'You can sit on the floor by my foot-rest.'
4 In making this distinction among yourselves have you not used a corrupt standard?
5 Listen, my dear brothers: it was those who were poor according to the world that God chose, to be rich in faith and to be the heirs to the kingdom which he promised to those who love him."
When it comes to families with young children, the distinction isn't between rich and poor, but one of outward behaviour. If your children can be perfectly still and quiet, you are welcome to sit in the front, but if they cannot, you are told to sit or stand to the side or back. Thus sitting where the children can actually see becomes okay only if those children are not audible or visible, in some people's opinions. (Note: I don't ascribe evil intent to any such person, and so I harbour no ill will. I blame societal views, personally).
Mixed in with all this is the idea that a "good" child is one that is not seen or heard - in other words, one who doesn't act like a child. Yet Jesus was a child, and He surely cried and played like any other child, since He is like us in all things but sin. And babies and young children are incapable of committing personal sin. That's not to say that parents don't or shouldn't direct their children, but that children crying, talking, and moving is normal and not bad. And the child's parents also aren't bad parents. Can they be distracting? Yes, but so can lots of things. I've been distracted by cell phones and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke, but that's my problem. I'd never suggest such people move for my benefit, because it isn't about me - it's about our Eucharistic Lord!
All this sometimes makes me wish I were Byzantine Catholic. I've been told that in the Byzantine Divine Liturgy, children move around and look at the icons. This is expected and encouraged, because they are then being taught about their faith. Unfortunately walking around looking at the stations of the cross and statues isn't usually encouraged in Latin parishes, though I do point them out during Mass at times.
I suppose what I'm getting at is that we can't just welcome certain people. We can't restrict our welcome based on appearance, age, etc. We must live the Gospel. I'm far from perfect at this, believe me. But also believe me that I know firsthand that it is extremely hurtful to receive negative comments about my children, or to see the angry looks shot at them and me, and I wish everyone would think of this when they see a family with young children at Mass. And if they bother you so much, offer to help (and by help, I don't mean offering to watch an older child while the mum removes younger ones).
While not an exact parallel, I cannot help thinking of this passage from James 2:1-5 (New Jerusalem Bible):
"1 My brothers, do not let class distinction enter into your faith in Jesus Christ, our glorified Lord.
2 Now suppose a man comes into your synagogue, well-dressed and with a gold ring on, and at the same time a poor man comes in, in shabby clothes,
3 and you take notice of the well-dressed man, and say, 'Come this way to the best seats'; then you tell the poor man, 'Stand over there' or 'You can sit on the floor by my foot-rest.'
4 In making this distinction among yourselves have you not used a corrupt standard?
5 Listen, my dear brothers: it was those who were poor according to the world that God chose, to be rich in faith and to be the heirs to the kingdom which he promised to those who love him."
When it comes to families with young children, the distinction isn't between rich and poor, but one of outward behaviour. If your children can be perfectly still and quiet, you are welcome to sit in the front, but if they cannot, you are told to sit or stand to the side or back. Thus sitting where the children can actually see becomes okay only if those children are not audible or visible, in some people's opinions. (Note: I don't ascribe evil intent to any such person, and so I harbour no ill will. I blame societal views, personally).
Mixed in with all this is the idea that a "good" child is one that is not seen or heard - in other words, one who doesn't act like a child. Yet Jesus was a child, and He surely cried and played like any other child, since He is like us in all things but sin. And babies and young children are incapable of committing personal sin. That's not to say that parents don't or shouldn't direct their children, but that children crying, talking, and moving is normal and not bad. And the child's parents also aren't bad parents. Can they be distracting? Yes, but so can lots of things. I've been distracted by cell phones and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke, but that's my problem. I'd never suggest such people move for my benefit, because it isn't about me - it's about our Eucharistic Lord!
All this sometimes makes me wish I were Byzantine Catholic. I've been told that in the Byzantine Divine Liturgy, children move around and look at the icons. This is expected and encouraged, because they are then being taught about their faith. Unfortunately walking around looking at the stations of the cross and statues isn't usually encouraged in Latin parishes, though I do point them out during Mass at times.
I suppose what I'm getting at is that we can't just welcome certain people. We can't restrict our welcome based on appearance, age, etc. We must live the Gospel. I'm far from perfect at this, believe me. But also believe me that I know firsthand that it is extremely hurtful to receive negative comments about my children, or to see the angry looks shot at them and me, and I wish everyone would think of this when they see a family with young children at Mass. And if they bother you so much, offer to help (and by help, I don't mean offering to watch an older child while the mum removes younger ones).
Crafty Thursday
I'm plugging away on Charlotte's dress. I have everything joined to work in the round, and I've just started the Hello Kitty faces. I decided to add the whiskers later with duplicate stitch. Now I just hope I finish it in time! I have until Holy Week, but it's slow going right now.
6 March 2013
Easter and Ishtar
Every year around Easter I end up seeing posts about how Easter is supposedly a pagan holiday worshipping Ishtar. According to the argument, Easter and Ishtar are pronounced the same, and so are connected (thank Alexander Hislop's spurious "scholarship" for this one).
Are they pronounced the same? No. If they were, would it prove that Easter is a pagan festival to worship Ishtar? No. Ishtar is a Semitic word, while Easter is Germanic. The two languages are not etymologically related. There are many false cognates between languages, where words look and/or sound alike but have different meanings. For example, take the word "me" in English. It sounds like the Hebrew word for "who", which is transliterated "mj" or "mi", but the two words have dissimilar meanings. No, sounding similar isn't reason to make a connection between the two.
Some then say that the word Easter actually derives from the Germanic goddess Eostre instead (Hislop claims Eostre and Ishtar are in fact the same goddess). Easter (or Ostern in German) started being used because the month in which the Paschal feast often fell was named Eostre. Whether there actually was a goddess named Eostre remains a matter of debate; if there was, though, her worship had ceased by the time the Venerable Bede was writing. Never did he, or anyone until more modern times, claim that Easter was a pagan festival worshipping Eostre or that the two were at all related.
Such arguments as these rely on looking exclusively at the English terms instead of looking at the big picture. In other languages, the word used for this holiday is similar to the word for Passover. The Hebrew for Passover is Pesach; the Latin for this holiday is Pascha. Even in English, we often refer to our Paschal feast. In earlier times, it was not unusual for English speakers to use the term Pash or Pace. The term Pascha was chosen because of it being the word for Passover, and so is etymologically related. It was chosen because of Jesus' Passion and Resurrection being at the time of Passover, showing that He is our true Paschal Lamb. We celebrate His Passion and Resurrection every year at the Paschal feast, more commonly called Easter in English. It certainly isn't pagan.
Are they pronounced the same? No. If they were, would it prove that Easter is a pagan festival to worship Ishtar? No. Ishtar is a Semitic word, while Easter is Germanic. The two languages are not etymologically related. There are many false cognates between languages, where words look and/or sound alike but have different meanings. For example, take the word "me" in English. It sounds like the Hebrew word for "who", which is transliterated "mj" or "mi", but the two words have dissimilar meanings. No, sounding similar isn't reason to make a connection between the two.
Some then say that the word Easter actually derives from the Germanic goddess Eostre instead (Hislop claims Eostre and Ishtar are in fact the same goddess). Easter (or Ostern in German) started being used because the month in which the Paschal feast often fell was named Eostre. Whether there actually was a goddess named Eostre remains a matter of debate; if there was, though, her worship had ceased by the time the Venerable Bede was writing. Never did he, or anyone until more modern times, claim that Easter was a pagan festival worshipping Eostre or that the two were at all related.
Such arguments as these rely on looking exclusively at the English terms instead of looking at the big picture. In other languages, the word used for this holiday is similar to the word for Passover. The Hebrew for Passover is Pesach; the Latin for this holiday is Pascha. Even in English, we often refer to our Paschal feast. In earlier times, it was not unusual for English speakers to use the term Pash or Pace. The term Pascha was chosen because of it being the word for Passover, and so is etymologically related. It was chosen because of Jesus' Passion and Resurrection being at the time of Passover, showing that He is our true Paschal Lamb. We celebrate His Passion and Resurrection every year at the Paschal feast, more commonly called Easter in English. It certainly isn't pagan.
5 March 2013
Home Remedies
Whenever possible, I prefer to use home remedies, though of course we use medicine whenever needed. Last week my daughter developed a cough. After a restless night, I decided to try a home remedy I'd heard. I took an onion and chopped 1-2 tablespoons. I put that in a small container and added enough local honey to cover the onions. I then let it steep for a few hours (I keep it in the fridge) before giving Charlotte a small spoonful of the honey.
It worked! She didn't cough for hours - I found it was needed twice daily. Better yet, she didn't object to taking it. My mother also had a cough and decided to try it and was pleased with the result, too. I'll have to remember this the next time I have a cough, as I hate cough syrup and refuse to take it unless there's a dire need.
What are your favourite tried and true home remedies?
It worked! She didn't cough for hours - I found it was needed twice daily. Better yet, she didn't object to taking it. My mother also had a cough and decided to try it and was pleased with the result, too. I'll have to remember this the next time I have a cough, as I hate cough syrup and refuse to take it unless there's a dire need.
What are your favourite tried and true home remedies?
4 March 2013
Book Nook: St Francis and the Wolf
When we were looking for books about dragons, I thought we could look for a book about St George and the dragon. Unfortunately I didn't see such a book at our library, but we did see Saint Francis and the Wolf by Richard Egielski. Seeing as my children all have Franciscan second names (we evidently like Franciscans), I thought we'd pick it up. We weren't disappointed, as Egielski does a great job of telling the story for children. It certainly kept the interest of all. I'd definitely recommend it: it's a good story in an of itself, but it's also a good way to learn more about St Francis of Assisi.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)