Showing posts with label guest posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest posts. Show all posts

Monday, September 8, 2014

A House Divided

A guest post by Seth:

I’m all for strong statements. They make a great impression, they’re eye-catching, they’re a great way to start college admissions essays. With the gumption to back them up, bold declarative statements are a political speech writer’s dream. Well handled, a strong position is akin to a rallying battle-cry, calling the masses to make a decision and choose a side. Only once the lines are drawn can the onslaught begin, because a rallying cry is not a charge, not a command to advance. It is not unheard of for a rousing speech to sway ones antagonists as well as riling the spirits of those already in agreement. Of course, this refers to good rhetoric, liberally applied and valiantly delivered. Such is not the case with Butters.

Butters is a well-known Catholic apologist whose name is completely something else. But since he is merely a case-study in an epidemic, charity would demand he be granted some anonymity, even if it is only as effective as those black rectangles placed over patients eyes in pictures of disease and anatomical abnormalities.

Butters recently saw fit to publicly share an article whose topic was vaccinations but whose subject seemed to be anger at those more affluent than the author. The article itself is negligible; poorly reasoned and even more poorly written it is simply another example of how far internet emotionalism has destroyed not only logic but basic sentence-structure. I assume it will have no lasting effect. More to the point is Butters’ statement preceding the link: “Anti-vaxxers are dangerous people who kill children. As a grandfather of two little girls, I give their quackery no quarter. None.”As far as strong statements go, that one gets full marks for aggression. Follow-through and charity are another story altogether…

Maybe Butters was having a bad day. Maybe every little thing made his blood boil and rational thoughts were hard to come by at the time. We’ve all been there and know what it’s like. But the immediacy of the internet is a pitfall not easily avoided in such circumstances; back when thoughts were written down, edited, reviewed and only then broadcast for public consumption, there was at least some hope that the slimy mud of vitriol would wear off, revealing the hard stone of keen insight (or the even denser muddy clump of idiocy) beneath. In our “need to know” “it’s my right” “just push the button” society, we bypass all that and get this. An ill-advised, angry spiel from someone who should know better. And by that I only partially mean “a Catholic apologist.” I mostly mean “an adult.”

Instant feedback gives a look at the ensuing fallout from such a statement; the comment box is full to the brim with a hackneyed debate consisting of some well-thought out and some emotionally fragile statements from various viewpoints. Unfortunately, not enough time passed for Butters to collect his own thoughts and calculate what a Christ-like approach might be. Instead he flits to and fro, pruning his rapidly withering fig tree with increasingly duller shears. Some of his comments include: (in response to another commenter) “You are a dangerous person and you have the blood of every unvaccinated child killed by preventable disease on your hands. I don't let dangerous accomplices to murder on my wall”, “…I do run into ignorant dangerous people who have the blood of thousands of unvaccinated children on their hands” and “Anti-vaxxer [sic] are helping to kill children… I don't take kindly to people who threaten the lives of my grand-daughters. Call that "selfserving" if you like. And call it "vitriol" if you like when I tell you that those who threaten the lives of my grand-children have no place on my wall”. After this has gone on for awhile he comes up with this statement: “I said nothing about non-vaccinating parents being killers. Parents may have all sort of legit reason for not vaccinating their child. What I say is that people who spread anti-vax propaganda have blood on their hands because they teach people who *should* be vaccinating their children to leave them exposed to diseases that kill them”. A nicety that in a more refined setting might not come across as splitting hairs so much as making fine distinctions. But the article he shared that began the whole debate bears the singular title Rich, Educated and Stupid Parents are Driving the Vaccination Crisis (for the record I altered it slightly; words and punctuation remain unaltered but I did capitalize some more words so it actually looked like, you know, a title).

How can we expect to evangelize when this is how we treat each other? I had a history professor who began her class informing us that while she would try to present her material as plainly as possible everyone has biases, both the historians who recorded the information and herself, the best we could do is recognize that and work around it. By assuming anyone disagreeing with our biases is either blindly (and idiotically) ignorant or criminally dangerous we do a disservice to ourselves, those we hope to educate, and logic itself. 


Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Speaking on Modesty: Continuing into Easter with Virtues


Thanks for joining this Lenten discussion as we move beyond the fast and into Easter! I'll be continuing to post thoughts by Catholic women and men who have something to share on modesty: what it is, how it's lived out, why it's important to them. I don't agree completely with all of these people, and I don't expect you to either; but I do want to open up a conversation. To make it easier, I've turned off the Capcha (you know, those horrible little letters and numbers you have to type to post a comment), so share your thoughts freely.

This week's post is from Christie at Everything to Someone! Thank you Christie for keeping the conversation going!

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Modesty is a word our society refuses to let be.  It comes packed with presumptions, loaded with condemnation.  The funny thing is, it's a dirty word no matter what side of the debate one is on.  To contemporary culture, hashtagged Culture of Death, modesty is a repressive tool of the patriarchy, made to shame women into covering themselves in drab, shapeless clothing.  But to the opposing side, what the pinheads call the Culture of Life, modesty is subversively negative.  It suggests a superiority of the fully clothed, a snobbery of those "in the know," who look down upon or with horror at the skimpily dressed.

Like most things, left to their own devices and un-tamperd by human interest, modesty in and of itself is not a bad thing.  In fact, it is a very good thing.  But I suggest it is a negative virtue.  That is, it is not something inherent in the created order as we know it now, but made necessary by the fall.  To augment what once was balanced.

So if modesty is a negative virtue, what is its opposite?  What is the positive virtue that ought to accompany it?  By itself, modesty means nothing if we do not have charity.  Modesty needs love--love of self, love of others, and love of Christ.

Mucha

I fear contemporary practice of modesty is lopsided.  We care to keep our brethren from sin and temptation and treat our own bodies like temples, but we do not care to see the skin for what it is--the fearfully and wonderfully made clothing of a soul, whose Tailor is Perfection Itself.  Why have we made the body a thing of shame?  We hate our bodies, whether we are subjecting them to outside conceptions of beauty or rejecting beauty altogether in favor of hiding them.  A woman ought to look like a woman, not a sack of flour or a bean pole.  If that were the case, God would have made women in the shape of bean poles and flour sacks.

Yet, the body is more than clothing.  We aren't just souls carrying around flesh like luggage.  The Incarnation means that we are our bodies.  C.S. Lewis said, "You don't have a soul.  You are a soul."  I think the statement is correct and not at all invalidated when inverted: "You don't have a body.  You are a body."  Because the argument that Christ's body was just a vessel--something he happened to "have"--is a long-condemned heresy.  It's called Monophysitism.

As Christians, we ought to nurture a culture of life, without the capitals.  We oughtn't make everything a Cause, though causes are sometimes important.  We shouldn't forget the natural order of things: causes proceed from devotion.  Devotion proceeds from love.  If we do not have love in our discussions of modesty, in our very perception of it, then we do the very thing we hate, and objectify the human person.  He or she becomes a "cause" that needs "fixing."

Now, the pro-life movement is justified in making abortion its primary focus.  After all, if we as a society can't respect life at the outset, there's not much hope for the rest of it.  But it oughtn't to stop there.  Human rights issues, social justice, the fair treatment of those with handicaps and mental disabilities, and the care for our elders are just as important.  Being pro-life means respecting the sacredness of all life, from conception to natural death.  It means having a healthy reverence for the mystery that is personhood.

What does this reverence look like?

St. Nonnus

There is a story about a crowd of bishops who stood outside of a cathedral in a city when a beautiful prostitute happened to pass by.  All the bishops looked immediately away to avoid seduction.  But one stared intently at her.  "Does not the wonderful beauty of that woman delight you?" he asked them.  They could not answer, for they could not see as he did.  As for the prostitute, she had never been looked at by any human person in such a way--with pure delight in his sister creation.  It made such a powerful impression upon her that she later sought out the bishop and became a follower of Christ.

That bishop was Saint Nonnus; the prostitute, St. Pelagia.

The Life of St. Pelagia


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Christie lives in Wales with her adorable river-baby and dear, beloved husband. She blogs at Everything to Someone and Spinning Straw Into Gold, writes poetry for numerous small journals, keeps a lovely home (in WALES!), and builds her imagination on the scent of Faerie groves and the sweet mystery of the Eucharist.



If you've missed our earlier conversations:

Read Kate Madore's opening post on Modesty

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Speaking on Modesty: Dignified Modesty: the fun, the fashionable, the sensible

Thanks for joining this Lenten discussion! I'll be posting weekly thoughts by Catholic women and men who have something to share on modesty: what it is, how it's lived out, why it's important to them. I don't agree completely with all of these people, and I don't expect you to either; but I do want to open up a conversation. To make it easier, I've turned off the Capcha (you know, those horrible little letters and numbers you have to type to post a comment), so share your thoughts freely.

This week's post is from Sia Nickelsen, a woman whose sense of style is enviably good! Enjoy!

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Marilyn Monroe said: "Your clothes should be tight enough to show you're a woman but loose enough to show you're a lady." Now, I know Marilyn Monroe is not exactly the role model we all want; she was basically the sex idol of her generation. But I love this quote! Though I don't think we should be making love to the camera or wearing pointy bra cups or push-up bras, I am strongly convinced that our figures need not be covered up for us to be "modest"; I think finding clothes that bring out our womanly beauty is a good thing. God made our bodies and He has sanctified our physical lives. We live Incarnationally. We are not Puritans. I think we need to ask ourselves what being modest means. Does it mean that your neckline should never go beneath three finger-widths from the collar bone? Does it mean that your skirt should never be higher than exactly one inch from the bottom of your kneecap? Or does this term "modesty" reach completely higher, more important levels like modesty in bearing? After all, we all will have our own standards of what being modest is; measurements will vary, styles will vary, and cultures will vary!
All sorts of classic
 
When we get dressed and look into a mirror, we should ask ourselves whether we are dressing to flaunt our beauty & sexuality or to present ourselves, to our neighbors and to the world, with dignity and grace. This may include fashion, or it may not. This may be a simple outfit or it may be like a fun costume, for such is the fun river of fashion... Saint Gianna Molla loved life and had so much fun living it. She liked to peruse fashion magazines. How fun it is, I think, to find fashionable, fun clothing that doubles modest, dignified and lovely. On a practical note, I try to be careful with the clothing that I choose, purchase, and find for my closet, and when I try them on for the first time I think, "Is this me?" "How do I feel in this?" And often it's a colorful, fun pattern or a practical outfit with a flair. I like to wear shortish skirts (knee-ish length) and a fitted shirt. (Not skin-tight, but not too loose either-) I LOVE scarves, and I use them to cover up my breast area if I am wearing a tighter shirt and it is cold that day... you know what I mean... haha! This helps me to feel confident. If we're dressing to spend the day in the garden, and we prefer to do that in jeans and tank, I think we should go for it. A sunhat and a scarf will add that ingredient of dignity we need. If we're snowshoeing or swimming,I think we should wear what we feel comfortable and practical. I personally love bikini tops with those fifties bottoms that cover all of my bum, or a swim-skirt. I like to combine practical and fun!


No matter what, when we look into the mirror in the morning, I think that if we listen to our conscience, and are self-aware, we will know whether or not we are trying to flaunt a beautiful God-given form or simply celebrate, in a dignified way, the figure God gave us as Woman.


St. Gianna Molla
Now, there is charity to be considered. When we reach across the table for the salt and pepper, or bend over to tie a child's shoe, or lean over to get something, we should, for sure, be careful to do it in a graceful manner and to watch out for cleavage. This is called loving our neighbor (ahem, our neighbor-MEN.) We should not do these things to attract unnecessary attention, but, once again, do them with grace and dignity, as a beautiful woman who is sacred, loves herself, belongs to a man, or who may belong to the Lord in a special consecrated way. But heavens, we can't be too preoccupied with what other people think of us or with thinking about what they're seeing, because that can get borderline ridiculous.

 At a certain point, we need to just chill out, stop worrying, and do God's work.This is precisely why, when we get up the morning, we should take great care in what we put on. That way we can confidently go about our day with pride in our choice of clothing, knowing that we are beautiful and dignified. I think it is important not to be too dogmatic about measurements or details that just would make our lives a huge headache or, worse yet, cause us to become so preoccupied with modesty standards that we cannot be as attentive to the duty of the moment, or to listening to God, and talking to God throughout the day in prayer.

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Sia is artist, writer, teacher and head wrangler of all things domestic at her little house in the Pacific Northwest. Mother of five, she doesn't find it too hard to dress modestly when she's got a body that has borne and nursed five children... she's actually more concerned about sparing the world then tempting the world.... 
She occasionally blogs over at pebblesandquilts.com 

...To which I must add that she also co-edits a lovely journal for Catholic mothers - Soul Gardening.  A "homespun, independently-printed journal created by mothers, for mothers" Soul Gardening is a ministry, completely dependent on donations. Receive it absolutely free by subscribing here! or take a peak at their facebook page. I've found Sia's journal nurtures my own little soul abundantly and look forward to settling down with the Easter edition as soon as possible!
 
If you've missed our earlier conversations:

Read Kate Madore's opening post on Modesty

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Speaking on Modesty: Hemlines are Irrelevant


Thanks for joining this Lenten discussion! I'll be posting weekly thoughts by Catholic women and men who have something to share on modesty: what it is, how it's lived out, why it's important to them. I don't agree completely with all of these people, and I don't expect you to either; but I do want to open up a conversation. To make it easier, I've turned off the Capcha (you know, those horrible little letters and numbers you have to type to post a comment), so share your thoughts freely.

This week my husband decided to join the discussion! We both hope you enjoy reading Seth's perspective. What do you think?

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     Modesty is not just for women. Yes, it may be easier for them to dress provocatively right now because styles prefer the female body at this point in history, but that’s just fashion; something modesty is only peripherally related to and which has vast cultural allowances. Every time and place has its own set of rules as to what parts of the body are appropriate for the public's eye; there is no objective truth regarding ankles or collar bones or thighs, and to get bogged down in the “how tight is too tight” debate not only ignores the dramatic difference between cultures, but focuses on one mutable expression rather than the deeper and steadfast truth. As a fruit of the Holy Spirit, modesty applies to everyone - men as well as women, little babies and wrinkly old people and everyone in-between (although babies do have that whole “before the age of reason” gig working for them). Of course, having asserted that women don’t hold a monopoly, my following examples are pretty exclusively female. I apologize for the irony in advance.



     According to Scripture, Salome danced before Herod to gain his favor, ultimately asking for the head of St. John the Baptist. In Western tradition this dance became known as the “Dance of the Seven Veils”, spiritual symbolism playing a role there as well as a certain fleshly imagination. It’s more than just a strip-tease, it’s a descent into forbidden territory, and when the final layer is removed the trap is closed, the king ensnared. This imagery calls to mind the concise and rather stark definition of modesty provided by the Church, “modesty is decency”, and the more evocative, “it means refusing to unveil what should remain hidden” (CCC 2522 and 2521 respectively). While Salome doubtless has other sins and vices working against her, in this scene she can certainly become a symbol of immodesty - not necessarily her actions themselves (enticing for some kind of gain), but indecency of her choice in that particular setting. The story reads like an inversion of Ruth in the Old Testament, lying at the feet of Boaz to gain his favor and protection; or Esther presenting herself in all her splendor before her husband to win the lives of her people. Or, perhaps more to the point, Judith seeking admittance to the tent of Holofernes in order to slay him by making herself “very beautiful, to entice the eyes of all men who might see her” (Judith 10:4). The problem with immodesty is not unveiling, it is specifically unveiling what should remain hidden, a definition that changes rapidly given different scenarios.

     Nor does this mean merely physical unveiling. Gossip, slander, boasting - all these can fall under the exhortation to modesty. Emotional blackmail is immodest, as is a lemming mentality following the latest fad of thought or ideology. Modesty protects us, protects our mystery and what the Catechism calls our “intimate center.” This manifests itself in every aspect of our being; our thoughts and feelings, our prayers and imagination, our senses and gestures. All are therefore in the care of modesty.



     An alternative image to that of Salome can be found in an icon of Mary titled “Enclosed Garden.” In it the Mother of God stands within a small park, gloriously dressed in richly embroidered robes calling to mind the bride in Song of Solomon. She holds the Christ Child, dressed as a tiny king, while she herself is crowned by two angels. Far from being hidden or concealed, the two stand proudly on display, the centerpiece of a second Eden. Virtually all icons of the Madonna represent her indicating her Son, pointing the way by a gesture or glance; and while her form may dominate the actual space, His presence is the subject matter. And in this way all icons are a representation of modesty, for by protecting ourselves as God intended we can grow in purity - our singular purpose being to imitate Christ and become like Him in all things, using our presence in the world to call all minds to God.

Michelangelo's "Risen Christ"

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Seth Goepel doesn't write from anywhere. He doesn't write. At least, not usually. Except when he wants to. And even then only in short, terse, Hemingway-esque sentences. But again, maybe that's just the tequila speaking.

If you've missed our earlier conversations:

Read Kate Madore's opening post on Modesty

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Speaking on Modesty: I Was Your Daughter

 Thanks for joining this Lenten discussion! I'll be posting weekly thoughts by Catholic women and men who have something to share on modesty: what it is, how it's lived out, why it's important to them. I don't agree completely with all of these people, and I don't expect you to either; but I do want to open up a conversation. To make it easier, I've turned off the Capcha (you know, those horrible little letters and numbers you have to type to post a comment), so share your thoughts freely.

This week we hear from my dear friend, Danuta, who writes of her response as an adult looking back on a childhood formed by one faction of the modesty debate. 


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You who teach that a woman must cover herself for the sake of her brothers’ eyes: I was your daughter. Your daughter’s friend. The girl in your home-school co-op, bent over her algebra book with her pencil behind her ear and her T-shirt tucked into her jeans and cinched down with a D-ring belt. The girl down the pew in church, the one with unstyled waist-length hair and a thrifted skirt that would have looked somewhat less out of place on a sixty-year-old, if only because it hadn’t been in fashion for twenty years, if ever.
 

Do I speak too strongly?

You mean well. So did my parents, who wanted more than anything to protect me—and perhaps those poor boys, who couldn’t possibly have helped lusting after their daughter’s resplendently gawky, flat-chested, acne-ridden body. Few men can resist a girl who walks with her head down and a nervous jerk to her steps. And the hearts of high school boys everywhere tighten with yearning when a girl alternates between adoring stares and an inability to raise her eyes to theirs. 


My parents did so many things right that I have endless honor for them and no bitterness. They worked hard; they sacrificed much; they could never have afforded to dress me the way I dress myself now. 



They had no internet till I was in my late teens, and very little television, and their best find for fashion advice was a used Jaclyn Smith book on style. They weren’t nearly as extreme as some of my friends’ parents; I was allowed to wear jeans and to leave my hair uncovered, and was finally more or less ordered to wear makeup.

I don’t resent that order, by the way. I’ve never stopped wearing makeup since, and I can’t express how much better I feel with it than without. It helps control and cover my acne (try Almay, Neutrogena, or Physician’s Formula, girls) and has become part of my ritual—a daily move toward artistry, health, energy, and sanity.


Back to my parents, though: they were searching. They knew the ways of the world enough to want to protect their daughter. They found a safe place: reactionary conservatism inside the home-school movement. There, they met up with the modesty conversation. It came with a long list of oughts—or rather, ought-nots. Women ought not show too much skin. Women ought not wear things very form-fitting. Women ought not dress to incite male lust, whatever that means—most of your virginal daughters have a vague and cartoonish idea at best. Women ought to protect their brothers’ eyes.
I can see the good sentiment in that.



Here’s the thing, though: my own natural modesty was bound to make sure my brothers’ eyes didn’t get a glimpse up my skirt, thank you very much. It’s true that natural modesty can be unlearned, but I was home-schooled. I had no opportunity to be immodest. I was socialized almost entirely through church, surrounded by unworldly friends, supervised by parents who would never have allowed me to own a cropped shirt or a miniskirt. My parents knew everyone I knew and approved every article of clothing I
owned. Stranger-girls who wore crop tops and minis were treated as objects of pity.


Nowadays, I occasionally enjoy being that object of pity—though I am still, by worldly standards, modest.


Maybe I would have more energy for the modesty conversation if I were raising children. Basic modesty must be taught to both boys and girls. But to be honest, I don’t like the modesty conversation as such. I don’t like the asinine tone it takes. I don’t like the way it leaves girls and women feeling defeated and unappealing. I don’t like the way it associates holiness with ugliness in the minds of the world.


I don’t dress to protect men’s eyes anymore—I don’t know what they see. I dress to look and feel beautiful, to make my husband smile, to be comfortable, to present myself appropriately and respectfully.


Which means that if I want to wear my skort and spaghetti strap tank top to work in the garden, I wear them to work in the garden. If I want to go for a walk around the neighborhood without changing first, I go for a walk around the neighborhood. If I’m going to Mass, I put on something with more thorough coverage, as that’s the respectful thing to do. If I’m going to work, I put on a shirt with a high enough neck to prevent my coworkers accidentally looking down my cleavage when they stop by my desk.



The modesty conversation will go on, not much troubled by my flinging my two cents into the pool. But for you who teach that a woman must cover herself for the sake of her brothers’ eyes: I was your daughter. And if I had a daughter, I suspect I’d spend the bulk of the relevant time teaching her how to dress comfortably, artistically, and appropriately for her chosen activities, rather than teaching her how her clothing choices affect male vision.


She should know that it’s generous to consider her brothers’ eyes—but she should also know that her brothers’ eyes are ultimately her brothers’ responsibility. And I hope she’d never be afraid to raise her own eyes to theirs and smile.


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Danuta writes regularly, plays often, and encourages friends to feel at home in her abundant garden. She lives, creates, and sips tea with her beloved husband in their home among the 'piny-wood hills' of the northwest.


If you've missed our earlier conversations:

Read Kate Madore's opening post on Modesty

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Speaking on Modesty: Dressing A Young Girl in an Immodest World



 Thanks for joining this Lenten discussion! I'll be posting weekly thoughts by Catholic women and men who have something to share on modesty: what it is, how it's lived out, why it's important to them. I don't agree completely with all of these people, and I don't expect you to either; but I do want to open up a conversation. To make it easier, I've turned off the Capcha (you know, those horrible little letters and numbers you have to type to post a comment), so share your thoughts freely.

This week we're taking a more practical path in the modesty discussion. Danielle is giving a straight-forward 'how to'. What do you think of her perspective?

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I started to form my views on modesty while in college. I had grown up in public schools and was swayed by the secular ideas of fashion. I never “bared it all” but I didn’t give much attention to necklines or the tightness of my pants either. While in college, I went to the extreme and started an experiment of only wearing skirts. It was amazing to see the transformation in my own mind and of those around me. Doors were held open, I was treated with respect, and I started to embrace my femininity.

When our daughter was born in 2011, we knew that we wanted her to live a life of modesty from the beginning. We didn’t want the excuse “she’s just a little girl” to make it acceptable to wear really short skirts, tight pants, or bikinis. She does have a few pairs of pants in her wardrobe, but when she wears them, she complains of being uncomfortable or she spends the day trying to pull them up.

The current styles for young girls are not modest. The pants ride low, they’re really tight, and the skirts and dresses just barely cover their bottom. Shopping for our now almost 3 year old started out as quite the chore. I slowly learned a few tricks to make in an enjoyable and successful experience.






When I purchase skirts, they’re almost always a size or two larger than her current size. For example, she’s currently in a size 3. I would most likely buy her a size 4 or 5 to keep the length longer. I’m not talking floor length, just enough to actually have it reach her knees. Yes, 3 year olds wear skirts THAT short! If I can find a skirt with an adjustable waist, it’s always a sure pick! You can tighten the waist to better fit their size, yet enjoy the length of the larger size. It’s a win, win.





I buy summer and winter dresses in a size that are also long enough. I prefer to find dresses that require a shirt to be worn underneath. I am then able to have her wear long sleeve or short sleeve shirts. It keeps it versatile for the entire year, as long as the fabric and patterns don’t scream Christmas in the middle of summer. I also keep an eye out for dresses with a ribbon to tie a bow in the back. It’s perfect for cinching in the waist on a dress that’s just a bit too big.



It’s been a bit of an adjustment trying to find clothing for her to wear modestly that also allows her to keep some sense of style. I’m sure as she ages, it will become even more difficult. It’s a bridge we will cross as we get there.

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Danielle is married to her best friend, Nathan, and together they have three young children. She is a music teacher turned homeschooling mom. She has a passion for fun and creative ideas, a desire to feed her family delicious and nutrient rich foods, and loves to fill her mind with new information. You can follow her adventures at Raising Little Treasures.







If you've missed our earlier conversations:

Read Kate Madore's opening post on Modesty

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Speaking on Modesty: Maternity, Modesty, and Visible Panty Lines



Thanks for joining this Lenten discussion! I'll be posting weekly thoughts by Catholic women and men who have something to share on modesty: what it is, how it's lived out, why it's important to them. I don't agree completely with all of these people, and I don't expect you to either; but I do want to open up a conversation. To make it easier, I've turned off the Capcha (you know, those horrible little letters and numbers you have to type to post a comment), so share your thoughts freely.

Now please welcome Shannon Fossett with the second article in our modesty series!


I clearly remember the day I was called into the office to discuss my attire. I sat across a table and listened to a woman tell me that there had been complaints about a pair of my pants, suggesting they were too tight. I stared at the woman in disbelief and asked “You mean my maternity pants?” At sixteen weeks pregnant with my second child, I was drudging through that awkward in-between phase; I looked more like I had just returned from an all-you-can-eat buffet than glowing with new life. My tailored suits were getting tight and uncomfortable, but since I’m petite (and was suffering from the kind of intense morning sickness that is cured only by childbirth), I was too small for most maternity styles. The pants in question had more stretch than I'd normally wear, but they were far from leggings. Having worn them throughout my first pregnancy, I hadn’t thought they were problematic.

     
The woman I was meeting with was both slightly sheepish and defensive. She quickly retreated and explained that while I usually dressed very modestly, the day in question I had not worn a long blazer or sweater, and perhaps the complaints were because people could “see your bum.” I was completely aghast- who in their right mind would take the trouble to complain about my exhausted, sick, and pregnant bum? 

    
 I left the office humiliated and angry. I was also shaken, for I have always taken pride in the way I comport myself. I love clothes, and shoes in particular- so much that I wear heels into the delivery room. Mindful of the fact that most of my co-workers are priests, I am careful to select modest and professional outfits. I was shocked that anyone would think I was immodest, and blown away that such a complaint would come during a pregnancy. I fired off an email complaining that my co-workers should display a little sensitivity during a time when a woman’s body changes so rapidly. It’s hard to maintain a wardrobe when clothes that are loose one week strain to contain you the next. 



Modesty is a funny thing. As women, I believe we are called to respect others and to avoid leading them to sin. When I began my studies in canon law, I was the only female in my class. I learned much about the way men - priests in particular - view women. In my undergraduate days I thought it was perfectly acceptable to go to class dressed in ripped-up jeans, flip flops, and a tee shirt proclaiming my admiration for the Rolling Stones. Slowly I began to see how much my clothing and the way I carried myself conveyed to others. By the end of my first semester, I was taking care to dress in a way that (I hoped) expressed the respect I had for my classmates and professors. I was especially conscious of the fact that dressing modestly was a way of honoring my celibate classmates. 

Once I graduated, I tried to carry these lessons into my professional life. I believe I do this well, for the most part. The compliment on modesty I hold most dear came from a nun who told me: “It’s so refreshing to see a young woman dressed so stylishly and looking lovely while also so modestly.” However, in my workplace, I also see that sometimes there is a tendency to think that modesty requires wearing clothing that don’t even hint at acknowledging the female body. I have met other devout Catholics who opine that pencil skirts, despite being tailored and falling past the knee, are “too sexy.” I also find there to be a double standard; there are women in the office who struggle with their weight, and frequently wear pants so tight that their panty lines are visible; however, no one complains with respect to their feelings. 

  
Modestly is a virtue that requires a fine balance. Being immodest can certainly lead others to sin, and is usually rooted in vanity or insecurity. But taking modesty too far is also dangerous and leads to shame and depreciation of the body as sinful. Both extremes, I think, result in the objectification of women. Both extremes distort true feminine beauty. I believe that the people who complained about my maternity pants probably looked at my body the same way when I was in loose pants and a long blazer. This does not mean that I am eschewing my responsibility to dress modestly, but it also means that I, nor any other woman, should not be dressing in fear of judgment.





Shannon Fossett, JCL lives in Old Orchard Beach with her blues/rock-musician husband, Jack. She has a two year old daughter, Annabelle, a ten month old daughter, Celeste, and is ready for more whenever God is. She serves the Catholic faithful of Maine as a canon lawyer in the Diocese of Portland, and can frequently be found in her office with a baby on her lap, her fourth mug of coffee in one hand, and the Code of Canon Law in the other. 

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Read the first article in our series: Kate Madore's Choosing Beauty
 

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Speaking on Modesty: Choosing Beauty


Thanks for joining this Lenten discussion! I'll be posting weekly thoughts by Catholic women and men who have thoughts to share on modesty: what it is, how it's lived out, why it's important to them. I don't agree completely with all of these people, and I don't expect you to either; but I do want to open up a conversation. To make it easier, I've turned off the Capcha (you know, those horrible little letters and numbers you have to type to post a comment), so share your thoughts freely.

Our first post, by Kate Madore, is a perfect introduction to the series: a reflection on what modesty is, what it isn't, and why it matters.

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I have tried to frame the choices in my life lately as opportunities from God to move toward something, (a positive relationship) rather just away from something else (a negative relationship). I choose non-traditional schooling for my children, because there is movement and creativity there that suits their burgeoning spirits and intellects; not because I am afraid of standardized testing or peer pressure. I choose mostly simple and whole foods because they are the pure fruits of creation, lovely and nourishing, not just because I fear preservatives or pesticides. 

I move toward modesty in my self-presentation because I want to move toward Love…It is part of my movement in and toward Him (Love) through relationships with others.  It is not just a movement away from something, an omission of sexuality. 

God’s gifts to us in light and color, sound and silence, warmth and cool – these are gratuitous, overwhelming, and riotous gifts that do not limit themselves out of fear; and we do not hold back in adornment to glorify God in prose or poetry, art or music. We use our best, what is truly most beautiful, fitting, right and just. But we can at
times, in the name of Modesty, limit our beauty out of fear of this fascinating and mysterious gift of sexuality. We decide that something that might follow our feminine shape, or be saturated in color or texture, might incite men to lust. We find clothing and behavior that is ‘good enough’ because it steers clear of temptation – and often, reduces the amount of God’s beauty we are willing to let loose from within us.

I don’t think the temptation of others, and the gift of one’s body to a spouse alone, are matters lightly trifled with or dismissed. But we must make sure they don’t become rules that push us into fear, instead of inspirations to our full wholeness and integration through the grace of God. Modesty is about moving toward that wholeness; to full and proper expression of beauty and the abundance of creation; behaving and dressing as the Beloved of God – the Beloved of God in joy and in love, not fear. 


There can’t simply be a list of yays and nays regarding modesty – we must converse: men and women. Women must have open hearts to hear how their choices are affecting others and work at keeping their hearts cleansed and pure of intention. Men must see modesty as part of a woman’s work to glorify God through her innermost and outermost beauty, and join her intentions to glorify Him. 

Modesty alone cannot be the the Final Rule, and clothing is not the admission's ticket to heaven. It must be taken as it is – a gift working with so many other gifts toward our union with Love.  Modesty is not a muse dancing alone. She is holding hands with Truth and Beauty.
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Kate Madore is truly terrible at bio writing, so take the following facts in whichever way you find meaningful: Kate lives with her favorite man ever (her husband, Christian) and their three lovable rapscallion children (another adorable rogue will join the family in May). She spends a lot of time washing things and putting them away, but finds occasion to play the piano, read poetry (and sometimes write it) and sneak outside to drink up any sunshine available. Speaking of drinking, she's likely having dark coffee with lots of cream or (come May) gin & a splash of tonic.