Hi all! It has been a little while. Any regular readers probably noticed that I dropped off of the radar, including at Catholic Exchange. I’ve been battling rather painful gall bladder disease for the last 1.5 months. I had to go through a series of tests and finally see a surgeon when it was discovered that my gall bladder was working at a whopping 17%. A surgery date was set for this coming Thursday. That wasn’t good enough for my gall bladder. It decided to tank and I ended up in the ER Friday in excruciating pain. When my surgeon couldn’t get the pain under control with pain meds, he admitted me to the hospital, and performed the gall bladder removal surgery on Saturday morning. So, I am recovering from surgery. I am hoping to return to writing soon. I even had to take a medical leave of absence from graduate school. I will provide another update once I have recovered from surgery. God bless you all!
Here are some thoughts I have in light of observing increased sectarian hostility within the Catholic writing world. First, it might help all of us to remember that each of us has a unique mission as a writer. This is something I am learning as I continue to find my voice and where God wants me to serve Him with this gift *He* gave to me. I am not a mommy blogger. I tried and that is not my niche. There are far more creative and talented Catholic moms who fit that bill. My bent is to the more intellectual.
I don’t really consider myself to be an apologist and I am not an academic, even with formal theological study. I am somewhere in the middle and I am okay with that. God has called me to evangelize my fellow Catholics by sharing the good, the true, and the beautiful that is found within the Church, but far too many people do not know where or how to tap into those resources. I try to take people with me as I stumble, fail, and fall on the path to holiness. I also write for secular and Catholic sites on the Culture of Life because my own grief and pain is being used by God to minister to people in need. This is my minuscule (that’s even too big) section of the deep that is writing on Catholicism.
My point is there is room for different perspectives, talents, emphasis, and understanding. This does not include leading readers into scandal or heresy, as we will all be held accountable for those we drag down with us into error. Sectioning ourselves off from one another and creating “camps” within the writing world only sows division, discord, and scandal. How does that serve God? How does that help others and ourselves achieve holiness? Disagreement is inevitable, but are we disagreeing in charity and truth or anger with a smattering of truth? Part of the reason Confession is so necessary is because we do not fully know ourselves and we are masters of self-deception. We often do not understand our own motives. Anger is a difficult emotion to parse and order properly.
There is an obligation to point out error, but it should be done in charity and detachment. If we are relishing in another’s sin or error, or gossiping in a frenzy on social media, then we have become no better than those we desire to correct. I am a huge fan of intellectual discourse. It’s one of the reasons I struggle with Facebook so much. I am a rather isolated stay-at-home mom and I crave intellectual pursuits, but what I am observing these days is not discussion. Gossip is not a use of reason. It is guided by envy, pride, emotionalism, and sin.
I think all of us–including myself–need to be careful of the very real dangers of the sin of pride for a writer. We can quickly forget that our mission is the conversion and strengthening of souls on the journey to sainthood. God uses us for His purposes. Our writing is not to puff ourselves up or lord over others. Then we do become Pharisaical, as much as I dislike this overused reference at this point in time.
Being a writer is difficult because we take an onslaught of criticism and vitriol. All of us have to learn to let it roll off of our backs and continue in the mission. If a person is ranting and incoherent then there is no point in engaging with them at that point in time. All we can do is commend them to prayer, fast, or offer up our next Mass for them. The last thing we should be doing is falling into the trap of Schadenfreude. We don’t have to agree on everything and we don’t have to like the style of every writer (me included!), but we are called to love one another, and that includes respecting the dignity of each person made imago Dei.
I am taking a few weeks off from writing and from serious use of the Internet. This time I am serious. Being a writer for online publications can be taxing. Unfortunately, people have forgotten what it is to respect others and I often receive nasty, ranting emails. It’s tiresome. It is why so many of my writer friends burnout quickly and switch to books, which is what I intend to do after I complete my Master’s. It is impossible to persuade or win an argument through emotionalism and irrationality, and yet, it is all too frequent in social media.
I am also in the last push through my Master’s. I have four classes left, two comprehensive exams, and my thesis to focus on. My first comprehensive exam is in December, so I have five core classes to re-examine and study in-depth while also homeschooling my daughter and continuing in classes.
I have been asking myself what is most important to me. If I look back 10-20 years from now, what will I hope that I have accomplished? The answer is not being a full-time writer. The answer is that I hope I gave everything I possibly could to my daughter and my husband. Writing can be a serious distraction for me. Like most writers, I have the tendency to retreat inside of myself. Our craft is internal and the thoughts continue cycling and spinning even when a pen and paper or a keyboard is not in sight. My husband has watched me do this before. He is amazed at how much I shut off the outside world when I write. While this is typical, it has also been very destructive. There is a reason why so many writers end up alone, drunk, or high in the pursuit of “great” work. I am in no danger of those things, but I see how it happens and why. I see my own propensity for casting my family and my graduate studies aside as I write numerous articles.
In the end, how many times I was published will matter little. Society tells me that I am wasting my time or potential as a stay-at-home mom and I have battled mightily against that lie in my 6 years out of the work force. I did a lot before I got married and there was major culture shock–and still is–in choosing to stay home. I am an intellectual woman. I like to be challenged, engaged, and involved in discussions that matter. But, there are two people who matter more than my immediate, temporal desires: my husband and my daughter. They suffer when I turn my focus from my vocation.
The greatest gift I can offer the world is my daughter properly formed by the Catholic Faith who has an ardent desire for holiness. The goal is for my daughter to achieve more than I possibly could and to help transform the world and bring it into communion with the Most Holy Trinity. When I stand before God, my career–while it can be sanctifying–will not matter as much as what I did with the child He gave me. She’s 5 years old and soon she will be 18 and moving out on her own. I won’t regret the writing projects I missed nearly as much as if I miss out on the next few years because I become consumed or distracted by other work. This is only a season and God will use me where He wills when He wills it. My daughter and my husband need me to work on being more fully present. I still need to learn the Little Way.
The world may not understand and that is fine. I know where my priorities truly lie and so I am taking a break from writing for a few weeks and then I will only write as time permits in the future. I plan to continue my relationship with Catholic Exchange, but I cannot possibly continue to write for a variety of publications as I have tried to do recently. Something has to give and I don’t want it to be my family. I am looking forward to some silence because the Internet is cacophonous these days. Pax Christi.
This article by Andrew Sullivan at New York Magazine is worth a serious read. It is lengthy, but he uncovers some truths about being a blogger, writer, and user of social media. I found myself nodding knowingly many times throughout.
***The following is an article my dad wrote over at Ricochet and I wanted to share it here on my blog. My penchant for writing comes from my very talented father: A lawyer by trade in years past, philosopher by hobby, and writer by night. This is a story based on my grandfather with the occasional creative license. It caused knowing tears to stream down my face. My grandfather taught me how to fish and all of us grand kids. I will forever remember him fishing the ponds and lakes near Lewistown, Montana. Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon him. He’s been gone 15 years, but looms large in our family’s memory.***
As the sun traveled westward a single tear dropped slowly down the old man’s face. He stared transfixed. Diamonds seemed to float atop the surface of the lake. He’d fished the lake for nearly thirty years, but he’d always been busy with the trout, unaware of the revelation atop the waters. He tried to add up the days he’d spent here. Like another old man, he’d seen many a great fish, and it was always bad news for those fish.
Today, though, he knew that the fish would have the final victory. The old man, bent and crippled now, quietly accepted that his fishing days were over.
Still, he couldn’t quite lay hold of the thought. Wetting a line was his entry into transcendence: Timeless and eternal. He knew now he’d deluded himself. He had always believed that God had revealed himself in the fish teeming in the depths. How could it be that God would take away the old man’s link to Him?
But God had spoken through the old man’s sufferings. The journey was at an end.
Now there was only time to reminisce, and what great memories the old man had!
So as he stood paralyzed with awe, the old man thought of the days when, as a boy, his father took him and his brother from New Mexico, across Texas, to Corpus Christie and the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico. These were glorious times. The old man’s father was a master of the sea, and guided his apprentices through the eternal truths of angling. Especially the lessons of humility. The fish, after all, prevailed far more often than the fishermen.
The old man half chuckled as he remembered the morning he and his brother woke early and sneaked off to rent an eight foot skiff and took to sea in pursuit of the creatures of the deep. Boys, of course, are boys, which means they are often too young to know they are fools. Not paying attention to anything but the fish, they’d not seen the tanker bearing down on them until the wake lifted the skiff skyward. At the last moment they heard a horn blast and looked up. Blue words shot from their mouths like a Gatling gun in perfect rhythm with the frantic oars: “Sh#t! Sh#t! Sh#t! Sh#t! Sheee###t!!!”
Needless to say, they’d kept that story to themselves. They would live to fish another day, so long as they didn’t tell their mother.
Back in New Mexico the old man fished the tributaries of the Rio Grande or hiked the rugged Organ Mountains in a sometimes fruitless effort to find a promising fishing hole. In springtime he could spy the full reaches of the Mesilla Valley. When the rains came the Valley would burst in the colors of the wild flowers; then in an hour the colors would be gone. That’s life, he thought, a now you see it, now you don’t affair.
Life never stands still for long and the day came when the family’s prospects in New Mexico dimmed. Like so many families of the times they set off for California in search of the promises of that land. They settled along the shores of Monterey where the old man cast his line into the bay. He loved to try the patience of the nuns by skipping school and disappearing into cannery Row to buy bait before heading to the Wharf. He learned so much more from the schools of fish than from the schools of fancy learning.
But he grew up and life would not leave him to himself. The war came and with it his sense of duty. Three years in the South Pacific left little time to fish; only time to seek the enemy. He’d been tempted to try the waters off Saipan, but the blood of battle had yet to wash out to sea.
But, with God’s good grace, and his mother’s endless petitions to St. Jude, the old man made in back, all his fingers and toes where they were meant to be.
He went back to the Wharf in search of peace and redemption. And he sought out a soul mate, someone who could tame the demons that chattered in his mind. He found her, or rather she found him, and they quickly joined hands—and created many children.
And he fished with a new urgency. Kids have a nasty habit of wanting to eat. There was little money, but there were many fish, and he cast his line and filled his creel, offering a prayer of thanks for each catch. In later years, his oldest son would say that no man ever praised God more.
And he taught his boys to praise through the fish. Now living in Montana, where fly fishing is the unofficial religion, he took them to the rivers and ponds and tirelessly guided them in the finer aspects of catching big ones. Three of the four turned into scholars of the art, while the fourth excelled at throwing rocks to scare the fish away. The boy had no concern for the fish; he simply lived to irritate his brothers, who themselves learned something about blue words. The old man was stern in his warnings, but lax in enforcement. Boys must fight their way to manhood, and the old man figured his sons wouldn’t kill each other—probably.
Later, when the kids headed off on their own roads to the straight and true, he’d made peace with the fish, which he now caught and then released. He thought often of those days of family fish feasts. Now, however, he heard a whisper reminding him that there were other young fathers and other small children who would need the ones he threw back. Now with each fish he threw back, he added a prayer for young fathers everywhere.
The years wait for no man, but they are also abundant in new gifts. He had time now to sneak off to the lake in the middle of the day, the only fisherman in a suit and tie.
Sometimes his wife would join him. After all those years of cleaning fish she had no desire to wet a line, so she would sit on a lawn chair or nestle in the car reading a book while the old man fished. Truth be told she came along only to make sure the old man was still afloat. He’d taken to fishing by inner tube, a Rube Goldberg contraption made of canvass to cover the tube, which wrapped around the waist. With flippers on his feet, and a plaid newsboy cap on his head, the old man backed into the lake with a Daffy Duck waddle. Sometimes she could almost hear his glee, a Daffy voice shouting “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.” Then he would paddle hither and yon in search of the perfect spot.
Once, when his wife decided he was on his own, the tube burst and the old man floundered, pretty sure he was headed for the reaches down under. But his guardian angel, probably a celestial fishermen himself, transferred just enough heavenly power for the old man to lurch and paddle his way to the shore. Shades of the Gulf of Mexico.
But today the old man had only time to reflect. His life, he mused, had been a constant fishing trip. There had been days of abundance when the catch nearly swamped the boat, and days of frustration when nothing would bite. But it was the journey that mattered. He’d traveled far. He had seen a thousand fish, and floated a thousand waters, but his energy sapped, it was time to hang ‘em up. But not a time to give up. Rather a time to keep moving toward a new beginning. Old men ought to be explorers, after all.
In a final valediction, the old man waved his hand to bless the lake, thanked both God and the fish, turned, and waved goodbye.
Our society is filled with “experts”. There are experts in politics, medicine, theology, philosophy, science, sociology, psychology, business, and the list goes on and on. An expert is someone who seems to know everything that needs to be known about a particular discipline. This should immediately put us on guard. Anyone who thinks they know everything that needs to be known about a subject, clearly knows very little. Humilitas is the hallmark of the wise. This is how we have been given the Socratic method.
Socrates is told by his friend Chaerephon that the oracle at Delphi told him that Socrates is the wisest man in the world. Socrates’ first question is: How can this be? How could he be the wisest man in the world? He is even more perplexed because the oracle cannot lie. So he goes on the mission of engaging with other philosophers and “experts” to discover the truth of the oracle. He quickly learns that most philosophers or sages of wisdom held themselves up in high esteem. They do not see their own limitations in knowledge or practice of what they teach. Socrates acknowledges his own limitations, and so, the necessity of humility in attaining wisdom is born. In this humility, Socrates proves to be wisest, precisely because he does not consider himself to be so. He recognizes that truth and wisdom are never fully exhausted. We must first come to know our limitations and then we can proceed on the journey towards wisdom and truth.
The expert is the exact opposite of Socrates. The expert holds up their knowledge as superior and ultimate. We watch news programs and are inundated with experts. The primary goal of all of these experts is to tell us how to think. How often does a self-purported expert tell people to study the matter in question for themselves? True, I am not going to delve into quantum physics at this point in time, but the opportunity is open to me should I decide to learn at least the basics.
G.K. Chesterton lamented the dawn of the age of experts. He saw immediately that it creates a power struggle and make us intellectually lazy. The expert removes our own responsibility in learning. We no longer consider whether or not what is presented comports with reality, which is truth. We are all called to be philosophers, or seekers of truth (Fides et Ratio). In fact, we are all naturally philosophers, that is what Pope Saint John Paul II meant. Every single person asks the question “Why?” on a regular basis. Why am I here? Why is there something rather than nothing? What is the meaning of my life? Does life have a purpose? Is there an after life? And the list continues on.
When we abdicate our own natural inclination to search for truth and wisdom, we leave ourselves trapped in a type of adolescence where we wait for other people to tell us how to live, act, vote, or understand a certain discipline. As Catholics, we submit to Holy Mother Church, but that is because we have learned through faith and reason, that Christ established the Church, it is the Holy Spirit who gives her form (life), and that the Church will guide us ultimately to truth. Our job is to swim into the depths and plunge deep into the truth of the Most Holy Trinity through the Church.
I do not write because I am an expert. Theological study has revealed to me just how little I know. If that is not how a person responds to graduate level work in the expansive mysteries of our faith, then they are doing it wrong and they missed Socrates’ lesson. In fact, every good theology program requires the reading of Plato’s, The Trial and Death of Socrates. Humility is a requirement of any good student of truth. That doesn’t mean we do not battle intellectual pride. That is a great temptation for any student, including the student who labors at home in the autodidact fashion, rather than through formal study at a university.
There is a very real and tempting danger in academia to desire the position of expert. I know that I have fallen into this trap at times. There is great power in knowledge, but it must be harnessed and ordered to the good, the true, and the beautiful. My desire for self-gratification is not a properly ordered understanding of the knowledge God has given me, nor the intellect He gave to me. I did not create this intellect. I did not create the truths I study. I did not create the universe. I merely share in a limited fashion what belongs to Him.
My purpose as a writer is to open up the world to my readers. We are sojourners. We are on a journey towards truth together. Teachers, writers, artists, etc. are not meant to be “experts” we are meant, first to be students ourselves, and second, to point the way in whatever limited way God allows us to do so. When I write, I want to point towards the ultimate Source. I want my readers to jump into the deep. I want you to open up great works of theology, literature, philosophy, Church documents, Church history, art, etc. Sure everyone’s intellect is different, but that does not mean we cannot learn something, even if we walk away somewhat baffled. We should all walk away feeling small and unworthy in the face of great mystery.
There is nothing more complex or humbling than studying the very limited theology we have on the Trinity. Upon reading treatises–what few there are–on the Trinity our brain should hurt, and yet, our souls should soar. Terms such as procession, filiation, circumincession, spiration, paternity, relations of opposition, and tota simul are enough to make a person’s head spin. They only scratch the surface of the great mystery of the Most Holy Trinity.
When we read an article or a book, we should look to the author as a guide and fellow traveler. We do not hold them up in some supreme place and presently halt our own thinking and philosophizing. Instead, we should mull around what the author is saying and truly come to understand within ourselves what is being said. In the case of Church documents, there may be times we are quite literally wrestling with God, as Jacob did. We all wrestle with God and we all lose, but we become closer to our true selves as we allow God to deepen our understanding of Him, even in the struggles.
When you read my work, no matter where it is found, never think of me as an “expert”. I want you to go read the resources I provide. I want you to learn more than me. I want you to swim deep into the truth. There are so many great teachers in world history and I only play at it. I am formed by my teachers: Aquinas, Aristotle, Plato, Augustine, Justin Martyr, Benedict XVI, John Paul II. These are only a few in a very long and ever expanding list. Take my 1500 words and allow them to point you towards your destination: truth. That’s it. I want you to pick up the books I have read. The documents I study. That’s where I want you to go. The last thing I want is for you to think my 1500 words are good enough or the end of the story.
We live in a culture of instant gratification. We think 1500 words is good enough. It’s only good enough if we do not desire truth. It is only good enough if we want to remain trapped in mediocrity or to never try to understand why we are here. If you read one of my articles and do not desire to plunge into the depths, then I am failing you as a writer. God bless you on the journey….
I have mentioned this before, but I am going to discuss this topic again. A person cannot know everything about a topic or an author based on 1500 words. We live in an age of immediate gratification. Far too many of us want short answers to complex questions and we make the mistake in thinking that an essay on the Internet is going to give us the total picture or explain complex realities to us. If we want to truly understand a topic then we have to do the work and study it on our own.
Writers who write for national/international blogs or news magazines have a word limit. Depending on the site, the editor imposes a word count that is considered ideal for their readership. Catholic Exchange, where I have been a weekly contributor for nearly 18 months, tends to shoot for 1500 words; however, the editor is lenient with me and has allowed me to hit close to 2000 depending on the topic. The Federalist on the other hand is definitely more interested in keeping to a strict 1500 word count and their editors shorten pieces to fit their readership. That’s the job of an editor.
This word count limitation makes sense. We are writing essays, not books. Most people get bored or tired reading long articles on the Internet and are less likely to finish reading one in its entirety if it drones on. The Internet by its very nature is a place of short, pithy, and introductory explications. It is the medium of books to go into further detail on a particular topic.
This is important to keep in mind when reading any author’s essay on the Internet. I commonly receive complaints that I missed this topic or that, or that I didn’t give a thorough explanation on an issue. How could I? My job as a writer on the Internet is to provide an introduction or a short explanation of complex topics. I also have to keep to one topic at a time. I obviously missed all of the other topics outside of my scope.
I published a piece on Fides et Ratio, a 130 page encyclical. I am not positive, but it may be Pope Saint John Paul II’s longest encyclical. The aim for my essay was to help Catholics see that resources, vast resources, exist inside of the Church to help us confront the claims of agnostics, atheists, and other interlocutors in the culture. I was not giving a thorough reading of the encyclical. To do that I would have to write a book and, quite frankly, I introduced the encyclical because I want people to go out and read it. It is hyperlinked in the article I wrote and above.
The Internet is a great tool for gathering information. I use it regularly as a writer and a graduate student, but in order to delve deep into a topic I have to read books, many books, on different topics. There are no quick, short, easy answers to complex questions. My essay on FR wasn’t even meant to be taken as a response to atheism and agnosticism. You have to read FR or the Catechism to begin to understand the Church’s teaching on faith and reason. I cannot possibly provide the necessary arguments to scientific or philosophical questions in 1500 words which would prove satisfactory to our critics. Instead we must study our resources, learn the arguments, and use them in proper mediums.
Not to mention that, in my experience, those interlocutors who communicate in comboxes are more interested in ad hominems and assumptions than serious intellectual inquiry and honest intellectual discussion. My atheist friends are much easier to engage in discourse in person without the temptation to incivility that is prevalent on the Internet today. That is why I dealt with the one troll in the article by suggesting they study the Catholic understanding first and then come back for discussion. I was encouraging honest intellectual inquiry, something that is vastly ignored in the new and arrogant atheism. I read atheist philosophers to understand their position. Atheists need to read actual Catholic sources first before they can engage in intelligible discussion. You can’t debate a position you have not studied.
This is the problem, though. People think that it is possible to get the entire answer in 1500 words or less. The Internet runs the risk of making us intellectually lazy. We want immediate answers and gratification, rather than doing the work that is needed. Nobody is expected to embark on the path of a theologian or philosopher if it is of no interest to them, but it is possible to study the basics in order to develop enough of a grasp to respond when questions arise. St. Paul tells us we must be able to give account for our joy. We cannot do that if we are ignorant of what our Faith teaches us.
My husband and I had heated discussion about this last night. He was complaining about the lack of fire in Homilies and how theologically minded priests tend to bore the parishioners. I guess because I study theology, I greatly enjoy the deeper Homily. My husband wants to hear more about living the mission and the fear of Hell. Fair enough. There is a dearth of Homilies on the Last Things and many have devolved into the current heresy of moral therapeutic deism. I agree with him, but I disagree with him that this would be enough to help people respond when they go off to a secular university.
A relationship with God, I prefer communion to relationship because of its ontological implications, is crucial and foundational for the Christian. If we do not love God, then we cannot grow in holiness and work towards our eschatological end which is to be united in communion with the Beatific Vision. This is all well and good, but our relationship with God cannot be our justification in the face of rationalism, reductionism, materialism, nihilisim, relativism, scientism, and utilitarianism, all of which are prevalent systems in our culture. The answer “I have a relationship with Jesus Christ” is not going to satisfy the scientific atheist, not mention that it oversimplifies greatly what it means to be a Catholic. Instead we must appeal to the reasoned arguments of our tradition, most widely laid out by St. Thomas Aquinas and other saints, or the recent work of Pope Saint John Paul II or Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, as well as the whole host of orthodox theologians at our disposal through a plethora of books.
Yes, there has been a major break down in catechetical development over the last 50 years, chances are, even longer. My experience of CCD classes in the 80’s and 90’s can be summed up in one word: felt. God gave me a dad who is a philosophy major with a profound love of Aristotle and Aquinas, which inflamed a love of learning within me at a young age. For that I am eternally grateful.
We must acknowledge that the Church suffers from self-inflicted wounds. This is an area in need of serious attention, but we also must come to accept that it is our responsibility to learn the faith. It is not our priest’s or the religious education coordinator’s, it is ours. All of the documents we need are on the Vatican website, in the Catechism, or in Scripture. Not to mention that thousands upon thousands of books have been written over the last 2000 years to guide us on the journey to holiness. We must take responsibility for our faith and not pass the buck elsewhere.
As parents, it is our duty to pass down the Faith. We will all stand before God some day and have to give account for what we did with the children He gave to us and whether or not we taught them the Faith while they were young. If we don’t know the answer to a question, then we find it. Children learn to pray, give, attend Mass, and live lives of holiness from their parents first and everyone else second. The catechist at our parishes cannot possibly teach our children holiness in one-hour a week, nor should we want them to. If our children are not living the faith or interested, then we must look to ourselves. Now, when they are adults they make their own choices. As long as we do the best we can, the rest is left up to prayer and fasting.
Reading blogs, essays, and articles on the Internet is a worthwhile pursuit. We learn news and new information from a wide variety of sources. We connect with the rest of the world in an instant. While it is a good, we cannot fall for the trap of thinking we can know everything we need to know about a topic or an author in 1500 words, or worse, when we only skim an article and then comment on it or email the author. We all skim at one time or another.
The Internet is a great place to begin, but we must be willing to enter into deeper study through books and documents that go into greater depth. You cannot understand FR in its depth and beauty from my 1500 word essay. You have to read it for yourself. You won’t be sorry and even if some of it is confusing, you can at least begin to understand the basic arguments. While Pope Saint John Paul II was a brilliant philosopher and complex thinker, many of his Church documents are widely accessible in understanding. May God bless you on the journey of growing in deeper communion with the Most Holy Trinity through the use of both faith and reason.
I had to make the decision, as my writing progresses into new circles, that I will be unable to respond to all emails or comments I get on specific pieces I publish. I cannot respond to complex theological, moral, or ecclesial issues in emails. There is a reason books are written. I do not have the time between my family and my school obligations to do justice to such topics. I’m sorry. I have tried to respond in the past, but I realize my efforts are often futile and only put a burden on my family and me. I am juggling homeschooling my daughter, papers, finals, and comprehensive exams for graduate school, and multiple articles on a weekly basis. Something has to give and email is it.
Many writers reach this point when they start writing for bigger websites. The emails and comments I received over the last year and a half at Catholic Exchange were manageable, but now that I am also contributing when I can at The Federalist and I am working on pieces for other large websites, I cannot keep up with all of the emails. I don’t even read the comment sections on my articles once they devolve into ranting. I will also continue to write regularly for Catholic Exchange and blog as time allows.
I do read all of the emails I receive and I am grateful for the people who take the time to write to me. Thank you! In the future, however, I will only respond to those emails asking urgent questions or work related inquiries i.e. re-publishing of work, other publications, radio or other interview requests, or speaking engagements. I will respond to the occasional comment here on the blog or elsewhere when I have a free moment.
I do want to express my gratitude for all the messages I received in the past and any I receive in the future. Thank you for your feedback, encouragement, insights, the occasional grammatical or typo correction, and stories. As to the people who wrote, or in the future, write to rant and rave at me, I am not sure what all of you thought you would accomplish in doing so, but I wish you the best. Yelling at me is never going to change my mind, and if it is the truth, then nothing will change my mind. :o) God bless.