Once I met a woman who had worked for years in fashion and modeling. Unsurprisingly, she was strikingly attractive.
She was accompanied by her teenage daughter who, by contrast, was rather unremarkable to look at, maybe even a plain-Jane.
After spending time with them, I began to sense that the mother, whose life had largely revolved around her appearance, seemed to look down on her daughter, perhaps unconsciously, because of her average appearance.
In modern times, dying is more and more often portrayed as a cold, clinical reality to be kept at arm’s length, relegated to the closed doors of a hospital, almost hermetically sealed from the rest of our lives.
When it comes to the event itself, we diligently work to avoid confronting it, addressing it, or acknowledging it. Because of this cultural backdrop, patients receiving a diagnosis of a terminal illness can be tempted to indulge in unrealistic expectations about what lies ahead, clinging to unreasonable treatment options and hoping for highly improbable outcomes.
Two weeks into the NFL season, ESPN ran a Sunday morning special exploring why the third-string quarterback of the Denver Broncos, Tim Tebow, had become the most polarizing figure in American sports.
He has become more polarizing than trash-talking NBA behemoths; more polarizing than foul-mouthed Serena Williams; more polarizing than NFL all-stars who father numerous children by numerous women, all out of wedlock.
Why does Tebow, and Tebow alone, arouse such passions? Why is Tebow the one whom “comedians” say they would like to shoot?
The cornerstone of Catholic social teaching is that human life is sacred. As such the Catholic Conference evaluates any law, policy, or program in terms of its impact on the life and dignity of the human person.
Catholic teaching on the economy reflects this emphasis on the human person. Pope John Paul II put it quite directly in his 1981 encyclical letter, Laborem exercens. He recalled that the error of early capitalism can be repeated wherever humans are treated as mere instruments or means of production and not as ends in themselves.
As the 20th century came to a close, the United Nations celebrated the International Year of Older Persons, heralding the vision of “A Society for All Ages.”
The first years of the new millennium have been anything but that, with the abandonment of frail seniors during natural disasters from New Orleans to Japan, the legalization of assisted suicide in several U.S. states and foreign countries, and political rhetoric that seems to consider the growing population of seniors merely as a drain on our health care system and the federal budget. Is this the society for all ages we envisioned in 1999?
As soon as I heard my wife burst out the bathroom door that sunny spring day, I knew she was pregnant. I hadn’t yet opened my eyes but I didn’t need to. Her footsteps told me everything.
My wife didn’t have any particular reason to believe she was pregnant. But after a couple years of praying for a second child, I’d grown accustomed to Laura taking random pregnancy tests — hoping against hope that somehow that second pink line would appear. This time it did.
The days ahead were as joyful as any we’d experienced in our life together. We beamed when friends who knew of our struggle with secondary infertility congratulated us and we devoured all the fetal development materials we could find, eager to mark every last milestone in our baby’s nascent life.
