High fidelity

We were talking about doing the right thing by following God’s ways. I was trying to explain to C. how obedience to the “rules” enriched my life, protected me and allowed me to be free.

She went, “That’s conditioning.” I was stung initially for the implication behind that statement was that I was no longer a thinking, rational being.

A couple of days later, I caught Selma Hayek in a TV interview and she spoke against religion as she saw religion as an institution that hampers her relationship with God, given all its rules. She called it programming and said that religion caused one to sacrifice individuality and creativity.

This perception that religion equals rules, rules that are archaic, impractical and reduce one’s quality of life by curtailing freedom is only too prevalent.

I have to admit I used to subscribe to this view not too long ago, and even felt that Church teachings were out-moded and existed to create guilt.

We live in a world where progress, defined by technological and scientific advances, is seen as the height of desirability. Tradition, the old ways, are no longer revered but ridiculed.

Freedom, love and happiness are words that readily trip off the lips to justify adultery, theft, cheating, oppression, abuse, even murder.

If we really took the time to seek, understand and experience what God’s love is all about, we would see the wisdom behind the rules.

The Catholic Church’s teachings are not based on esoteric, obscure reasoning but founded on natural law. Very practical, infused with huge doses of common sense.

Unfortunately, through poorly taught catechism and inept promulgation of its beliefs, strange and distorted views of Catholicism abound.

Plus, it is always easier to believe what the media and the world around us tell us about how to pursue happiness and find it.

Yes, fidelity does imply obedience and sacrifice. At times, the subsuming of one’s desires. But when that fidelity is a reciprocity of love (and not just duty), it takes on a deeper and richer tone.

And with the unfolding of time, we will eventually get to hear the symphony God is composing through our lives if we allow Him to be the master composer.

When I get weary of swimming upstream against the flow of popular convention, I find strength reflecting on the life of Dorothy Day who lived the major part of the 1900s.

Her choices in life would seem mad to most people.

Giving up a lucrative career as a writer to become a social activist who brought hope and acceptance to the masses by providing food and shelter though her houses of hospitality.

Shunning the values of her generation upon conversion to Catholicism even though she had earlier typified the modern, independent woman of the 20s who indulged in the free-sex-and-drugs lifestyle.

Choosing God and letting go of the man she loved and called “husband” to walk singly through life, raising her daughter on her own.

She embraced the Church’s teachings wholeheartedly, managing to translate her radical social values within the institutional framework and give herself over to loving in such extraordinary ways.

Her unique brand of spirituality included her love of Scripture, solidarity with the poor, frequent works of mercy, prophetic witness through her writings, pacifism, gratitude to God and regular celebration of the sacraments.

Below is an excerpt of the sermon delivered by Fr. John Hugo at her memorial mass:

"Never enough! The other saying frequently quoted by Dorothy I had borrowed from St. Augustine: "He who says he has done enough has already perished." The fullness of love is not attainable all at once, but is rather a life-time goal requiring continual growth. The saint's words are a reminder that one may not falter in the ascent of the mount of love. And Dorothy was not satisfied with the lowest degree of love. She desired to follow her Master, who had said, "Love one another as I have loved you." That is, unto death."

Fidelity of the highest order: She died penniless in 1980, having lived the fullest expression of her love for Christ in her fully lived life (which included being thrown into jail at the ripe old age of 75 for being in a banned picket line for farm workers).

If being conditioned or programmed means living a life as colourful and rich in meaning as Dorothy’s, bring it on.