Pages

Friday, July 03, 2009

i noticed an odd thing this week

Many Catholic bloggers weighed in on Michael Jackson's death, to plop loose green shit on his corpse mostly but very few bloggers had anything to say about the Caritas scandal in Boston. Perhaps it's because taking a shot at Jackson was easy and seeming to pick on good ole Cardinal Sean seemed hard. But the Caritas scandal was not about picking on Cardinal Sean.

The cardinal, in order to keep his health care operation going was apparently going to accept the state's requirement that abortion services be provided to patients who requested them, even if it was "just" referring them to abortionists off site.

The entity that was going to handle this was CeltiCare. 49% of CeltiCare was owned by Caritas. Although the archdiocese denied it repeatedly, Caritas was essentially going to be involved in the abortion business.

Let that roll around in your head for a minute. Let it boggle your noggin. Now think about the early martyrs who died horribly rather than offer incense to Caesar. Think about Sts. Agatha, Lucy, Anastasia, Perpetua and Felicity. Think about the martyrs whose names are now known only to God who were told, "Look, you are young and handsome. Why give your life over a technicality? Just whisper to me that Caesar is lord and I'll let you go. Cooperate with the system and you will live." The Caritas deal was an insult to the memory of the martyrs. It was an insult to every pro life worker in Boston. It was an insult to every slaughtered in the womb, baby.

Well now, the deal is off. A few bloggers have mentioned the story in the last two days to congratulate the cardinal on doing the right thing but they fail to mention that it was a bunch of inelegant, unsophisticated Joe and Jane in the back pew lay people who kept asking annoying questions and kept publicizing the story who are to be congratulated. They are the reason Caritas won't be involved in abortions, not the cardinal. I say this, not to pick on the cardinal but to give credit where it is due. Jane and Joe in the back pew, you rock. If I drank beer, I'd raise a Dos Equs in your honor.

Now every blogger writes about what means the most to them. That's the beauty of the blog. Sometimes you get stories about the blogger's cat and sometimes you get stories about Catholics in Siberia. It just struck me as weird that the big time professional, serious issue, serious Catholic bloggers took time to mock Jackson, which should've been beneath them (see footnote) and had nothing to say about a stunning Catholic scandal, that could've had national implications because if Caritas had gotten away with this don't think it couldn't happen in your diocese.

And the most puzzling comments came from ultra serious people who claim to know nothing about pop music or the national zeitgeist. You know, the folks who swear they haven't' watched TV or seen a movie in years, sew their own deliberately ugly dresses, and who grow heirloom tomatoes and for fun reenact the Battle of Hastings in the back yard with their perfectly perfect kids. And speaking of the kids, each one was conceived after grimly praying Tobit's prayer, consulting the chart and stoicly going into the marital embrace.

To each his own but for someone like that to talk about pop music is kind of like an Old Order Mennonite telling young Elvis how to shake a leg or a Mormon telling Sonny Boy Williamson how to play the harmonica. All in all, I would've preferred to have read about their cat, Benedictus.


Foot note
(I once was in a car pool with a Jehovah's Witness. She was a bore but no hypocrite. When she turned on the car radio and heard Boys to Men singing a sweet love song she cried out, "The devil's music!," turned off the radio. She neither knew nor gave a damn who was on the music Top 40 list. Ole Bessie said pop music was beneath her and refused to talk about it. Anyone fool enough to mention Prince, Cameo or even Earth Wind and Fire to her would've gotten a basilisk stare and an offer to conduct a Bible study. As I said, ole Bessie was a crashing bore but she walked her talk)