On Martyrdom.

Years ago, back when I went to the YMI day retreats, one of my group leaders asked us if we knew what it meant to be a martyr. Me, always the over-achiever, raised my arm high and proclaimed that it was someone who died for their faith. The missionaries laughed at me. "Not in America!" they proclaimed.

And I think they are right. The idea of feeding Catholics to lions, or burning them to death as was the fate of the Ugandan martyrs, seems highly unlikely. The American character is too averse to such open persecution, and the evil too blatant, to really grab hold in this country. So what does martyrdom look like in America?

(And you are fooling yourself if you think there aren't American martyrs. The world cannot simultaneously hate the Church and tolerate Her presence. A sinner hates nothing more than the guilt of his sin, and cannot help but harbor a grudge against those who reinforce that guilt by denouncing the sin.)

About once a year, a priest from Vladivostok, Russia, makes the tour of Orange County, preaching at parishes, and asking for support for the missionary work in Russia, undoing the evils of the Communists. He tells the story of what happened to the Church in Vladivostok at the beginning of the Revolution. Most of the city's inhabitants were Orthodox—too many to openly persecute—so the Soviets simply bombed the churches. One Easter Sunday, in front of all the faithful, they simply closed the Orthodox churches, save one, and blew them up, to be rebuilt for The Party's use. The Catholics were not so lucky. They were a small minority, and the Communists saw no reason to try and tolerate them. Catholics were simply rounded up and executed, and the city didn't notice much difference.

So there is strength in numbers. It's hard to imagine a relatively peaceful country killing off a fifth of its inhabitants (or even a twentieth, if we only count those who meet the bare minimum requirement of weekly Mass attendance). 60 million (or 15 million) is a lot of graves to fill. But the tactics of the Soviets may lend an insight. If there are too many to round up, simply keep them out of their churches.

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"The Banalization of Sexuality"

The Murloc sent me an article the other day, asking me to tear it apart. So tear it apart I shall.

The article is called "Why I Want a Male Birth Control Pill", by Kyle Munkittrick and can be read here.

The first paragraph is perhaps the most egregious, so we shall save it for last. Let's start with, this:

"Sex as we know it has two major biological problems: disease and unintended pregnancy."

It boggles my mind that one could look at the natural function of a biological process and call it either a problem or unintended. This is akin to saying "eating has two major problems: food poisoning and nourishment," or "breathing has two major problems: smoke inhalation and respiration."

Consider the phrases: "I intentionally at the entire cheesecake and accidentally gained weight." "I intentionally jumped off the roof and accidentally fell to the ground." "I intentionally had sex and accidentally got pregnant." The first two make the speaker sound like an idiot, but the third one, for some reason, is how people actually think.

Of course, this is just the contraceptive mentality: the delusion that sex is not for sexual reproduction, but rather for pleasure, and the reproductive aspects of it are an unintended side effect. It's a mindset I frequently see in the post-sexual revolution apocalypse. And one Mr. Munkittrick seems to be afflicted with.

Dave Barry (hardly a hero of the pro-chastity movement) even made a joke about this, with one of his book titles: Babies and Other Hazards of Sex. Of course, the joke here is that we all know that babies are what's supposed to happen during sex. It's comical to pretend that they're a hazard, and not the natural end, of the act. It's like saying, "my wife and I took a plane trip to visit her mother but, unfortunately, it didn't crash." The joke is that what was supposed to happen, happened, but we didn't want it to happen. The joke is that we want the opposite of what we do.

But it's only humorous when intended, like Dave Barry's book title, as a joke. Mr. Munkittrick seems to think it seriously.

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