Murder in the Vatican: The Church Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes

Murder in the Vatican: The Church Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes, by Ann Margaret Lewis.  Illustrations by Rikki Niehaus.  Gasogene Books, 2010.  152 pages.  Softcover, $18.95.

 

Fans of the original Sherlock Holmes mysteries by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle know that the great detective solved many more cases that were never recorded by Dr. Watson. Peppered throughout the canonical writings are scores of references to cases that never made it into print. Some of these never-written cases include the giant rat of Sumatra, and the Dundas separation case, where a marriage unraveled due to the husband’s unpleasant habit of tossing his dentures at his wife after meals.  Over the years, many Sherlockians have taken a shot at writing these unrevealed cases, with varying results. Some of the best fans to follow in Conan Doyle’s footsteps are Nicholas Meyer, August Derleth, Denis Green, and Anthony Boucher. With the publication of Murder in the Vatican, Ann Margaret Lewis can join the ranks of authors who have provided worthy additions to the adventures of Holmes and Watson.

 

Out of over a hundred references to unrecorded Holmes mysteries, three are connected to the Catholic Church.  These are “The Case of Cardinal Tosca” (originally mentioned in The Adventure of Black Peter), “The Vatican Cameos” (The Hound of the Baskervilles), and “The Second Coptic Patriarch” (The Retired Colourman).  Lewis has taken these three references and expanded them into novelettes, drawing heavily on history and Catholic theology. In each of these stories, Pope Leo XIII is a major figure.

 

In “The Case of Cardinal Tosca,” the title character succumbs to poisoning, and Holmes and Watson are summoned to determine how the crime was committed.  Pope Leo XIII assists the famous pair in their investigation, going so far as to go uncover in order to help bring the culprit to justice. There are many references that the Pope and Holmes have worked together before, but the exact nature of their history together is not revealed until the next story.

 

“The Vatican Cameos” is the longest story in this volume, focusing on a complicated diplomatic mission between the Vatican and a hostile Protestant England. A set of priceless cameos is sent to Queen Victoria as a tribute gift in order to further the possibility of building a new Catholic cathedral in Great Britain. Although the tale is capped with introductory and closing passages narrated by Watson, the bulk of this lengthy tale comes from the Pope’s first-person manuscript. 

 

This mystery is actually set before the Cardinal Tosca mystery, although the prologue and epilogue are set after the Tosca case. This story explains how Holmes and the Pope first met, when Holmes traveled to Rome at the request of the British government (Watson was otherwise engaged during this adventure). The theft is followed by murder, and the Pope and Holmes join forces in order to find the stolen artwork and salvage the Vatican’s diplomatic efforts.

 

“The Vatican Cameos” allows for some rather interesting character development on Holmes’s part. Holmes begins the tale as an extreme rationalist who is unabashedly hostile to all things Catholic. Throughout the investigation, the Pope and Holmes debate logic, faith, reason, and eventually develop a sincere respect for each other. Pope Leo XIII does not make a convert in this tale, but he does make a friend and ally.

 

A famous Chesterton character also makes a cameo appearance in “The Vatican Cameos.” A Deacon Brown, soon to be fully ordained as a priest, delivers the Pope’s manuscript to Watson at the start of the story. Father Brown plays a much more central role in “The Second Coptic Patriarch,” where a bumbling Inspector Lestrade falsely accuses the good father of murder. A disguised Flambeau recruits Holmes to clear Father Brown’s name, although Holmes, who knows all about Flambeau’s felonious activities, sees right through the make-up. There is a slight disconnect between the chronology in Lewis’s stories and Chesterton’s original Father Brown mysteries (“Coptic Patriarch” is set long before “The Flying Stars,” and Flambeau’s conversion and rehabilitation are made explicit in Lewis’s tale), but these issues should not distract from an otherwise enjoyable story.

 

Chesterton is not the only mystery writer to have a character appear in these stories. There is an oblique reference to a super-short story by Dorothy L. Sayers, published only in the now out-of-print collection Sayers on Holmes. Originally a brief radio monologue called “A Tribute to Sherlock Holmes on the Occasion of his 100^th Birthday,” this rare tale tells how when Lord Peter Wimsey was a little boy, he visited Holmes in order to help him find his missing pet cat. It would be interesting to know how many of Lewis’s readers would have known about this obscure little reference.

 

Murder in the Vatican is highly recommended not just for fans of Sherlock Holmes, but also for fans of historical fiction and people who would like to see the Catholic Church portrayed in a highly favorable light. Lewis does a creditable job of mimicking Doyle’s prose style, and the tales are full of theological and historical details without ever appearing preachy or forced. Given the plethora of “untold” Holmes stories, Lewis has plenty of material for some follow-up stories. For the sake of mystery fans everywhere, I hope that Lewis keeps writing.

This review first appeared in Gilbert!

The Tripods Attack! The Young Chesterton Chronicles: Volume 1,

The Tripods Attack!  The Young Chesterton Chronicles: Volume 1, by John McNichol. Manchester, New Hampshire: Sophia Institute Press, 2008. 384 pages, Softcover, $17.95.

 

When I first heard that a new book featuring a teenaged Chesterton in a radically re-invented version of the Edwardian era was going to be published, I felt that this novel could go one of two ways. It could be a wonderfully imaginative, action-packed fantasy series, or it could be a humongous disappointment. Happily, John McNichol’s The Tripods Attack! falls squarely into the former classification. 

The first point that needs to be made is that since this book is a fantasy, it is NOT faithful to the true autobiographical facts of Chesterton’s life. Don’t leap out of your chair and scream indignantly, “Chesterton never did THAT!” It’ll ruin the whole book for you. Just accept that the world described in this book is an alternative universe, and just go along with everything. Chesterton was not a skinny, orphaned teenager in the middle of the Edwardian era. Chesterton was not raised in rural Minnesota, did not narrowly miss drowning on the Titanic, and did not start his career slaving away doing engineering work. This is a fantastical work that takes the bare bones and a fair amount of the meat of Chesterton’s life and pads the rest with all sorts of creations. The political state of the United States in this novel is radically different from what it was at this time in real life. And of course, Chesterton never battled a horde of mechanical monstrosities. At least, not as far as we know. 

As the novel opens, the adolescent Gilbert Chesterton is drudging away in a dead-end job as a “clacker,” which involves poking holes in punch cards and trying not to get fired. Suddenly, an unexpected twist of fate places Chesterton on a fast-tracked path to success as a newspaper reporter, set to investigate the mysterious appearance of gigantic robots. Clueless in the ways of the world, Chesterton is easy prey to roving London street gangs. Thankfully, a fellow reporter, H.G. Wells, joins our hero to help him track down the story. As the two young newspapermen sniff out adventure, they meet a number of new acquaintances, including a mysterious red-haired woman, a sinister and calculating figure known only as the Doctor, and everyone’s favorite crime-solving British priest, Father Brown. Chesterton, Wells, the Doctor, and Father Brown soon discover that a vengeful alien race is threatening the Earth, and it’s up to the foursome to save the world.

Though Chesterton’s life is radically fictionalized, it’s clear that McNichol loves and respects Chesterton. Each chapter opens with a quote by Chesterton, and other snippets from the work of Chesterton and Wells make their way into the narrative. Chesterton is presented as a hero in the making, unschooled and low on street smarts, but full of intelligence and more importantly, bravery and virtue. Hungry for adventure and trying to learn how to read his moral compass, McNichol’s version of Chesterton can stand toe to toe with the best heroes of young adult literature. Wells is seemingly amiable, but his racist adoption of eugenicist theory and stark adherence to scientific materialism set him apart from our more empathetic protagonist. The Doctor’s suavely cultured veneer hides the selfish coldness of an almost sociopathic wannabe ubermench. McNichol’s Father Brown falls a little short of the wit and acuity of the original version, but his warmth and wisdom allows him to serve as an Obi-Wan Kenobiesque mentor, guiding young Gilbert on his road to faith. Elements from the Father Brown mysteries, The Man Who was Thursday, and The War of the Worlds appear in the book, just to name a few.

It is a very hopeful sign that McNichol clearly identifies this book as “Volume 1” of the Chronicles. The ending chapters set the stage for future entries in the series as much as resolve the events of Tripods. The ultimate fate of one of the characters may seem crushing, but despite the fact that I found this point extremely unsatisfactory, I must concede that it is completely in line with the traditional format of mythical adventure storytelling, as defined by Joseph Campbell. The slightly confusing cliffhanger ending makes me wonder what precisely McNichol has in mind for future installments in this series.

It’s rare that a novel leaves me simultaneously exhilarated and wanting a lot more, Will Flambeau, Innocent Smith, Adam Wayne, McIan, Turnbull, Professor Lucifer, and the Central Anarchist Council make their ways into the series? Will Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc team up to expose the Marconi Scandal, which turns out to be instigated by the malevolent conspiracy introduced in Tripods? Can Chesterton and Bernard Shaw join forces to investigate how malevolent alien forces are causing societal injustice on the technologically overdeveloped streets of London? Will Chesterton solve a baffling murder case with Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, and the rest of the Detection Club? One can only hope so.

I’m not trying to tell McNichol how to write his series, but the possibilities are so vast that I cannot wait to see how he continues Chesterton’s coming-of-age tale. Now that the Harry Potter series is over, I’m hoping that the Chronicles can take its place in providing me with imaginative fiction that I find myself eagerly awaiting for years between installments.

This review originally appeared in Gilbert!

The Wisdom of Harry Potter: What Our Favorite Hero Tells Us About Moral Choices

The Wisdom of Harry Potter: What Our Favorite Hero Tells Us About Moral Choices, by Edmund M. Kern.  Amherst, New York: Prometheus Books, 2003.  296 pages, Softcover, $18.00.

 

In the interests of full disclosure, I should point out that Edmund Kern was one of my favorite professors when I was an undergraduate at Lawrence University. Not only did he teach my class on historiography, but he also taught one of most entertaining and informative classes that I have ever taken, “Religion, Magic, and Witchcraft in Early Modern Europe.” Given the fact that the occult (strictly as a historical phenomenon) is Prof. Kern’s specialty subject, it is not surprising that he would become a great fan of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter books.

Indeed, Prof. Kern managed to work Harry Potter into every aspect of our “Religion, Magic, and Witchcraft” class. On the first day, he picked up three dry-erase markers and asked which color he should use to write on the marker board: “Gryffindor red, Ravenclaw blue, or Slytherin green.” He decided to go with “Ravenclaw blue,” because “that’s where the smart women are.” When we came across a legendary artifact in the readings, such as the Hand of Glory, Prof. Kern would be quick to point out which Harry Potter book that artifact appeared in (in this example, Chamber of Secrets). When a colleague sent him an article that argued that the movies were wrong to show broomstick riding with the bristles pointed backwards, when the bristles should be pointed in front, ahead of the rider, he gave a great five-minute lecture explaining why this article was wrong. While a couple of old sketches of flying witches show them riding on brooms with the bristles pointed forward, the earliest depiction of this phenomenon shows the bristles pointed backwards. Brooms were not the only means of flying transportation in artistic presentations, Prof. Kern added. Some pictures show witches riding gigantic vegetable, huge thistles, and in one case, an enormous phallus. I don’t know how he managed to get the class to settle down after revealing that tidbit of information, but he did.

Kern’s thesis is that the books do indeed promote a wholesome sense of morality, specifically Stoic virtue. His explanation of why the books support this value system is too complex to go into here, but his defense of his position is well reasoned and supported, albeit at times challenging to follow. While Kern’s personal opinions and critiques form the backbone of his book, a substantial portion of the analysis is devoted to presenting the arguments of Rowling’s critics. At times, these sections drag a bit, partially because Kern seems slightly annoyed at the people he is arguing against. One gets the impression that Kern was clenching his teeth as he refuted the contentions of these detractors.

The Wisdom of Harry Potter was written when only four of the books were published. Order of the Phoenix was published right before the manuscript was submitted to the publisher, and the afterword contains a brief response to the fifth novel.  Throughout his study, Kern notes that it is hazardous to make any set conclusions about Rowling’s aims and philosophy until all seven entries in the series were completed. Coming from the perspective of reading Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows, it is interesting to see which theories are verified and which are discredited. For example, Kern is ambivalent about the presence of latent religious themes in the books, and it would be nice to see how Kern restructures this view (if at all) in response to the closing chapter of book seven.  Despite the fact that the book is in need of updating, it is still an essential contribution to the critical literature on Rowling’s work. 

When The Wisdom of Harry Potter was first published, Prof. Kern told me that he might update the book once the series was completed. While such a revision might be intriguing, I personally would be more interested in an autobiographical book about Kern’s fandom. The best parts of Wisdom are Kern’s descriptions of how he first came across the novels, how he quickly came to love the novels, and his experiences incorporating Harry Potter into his academic life. A fantastic memoir could be created from Kern’s experiences at Potter-themed conferences, tracking down the history of the real-life Nicholas Flamel in Europe, and teaching students in his classes and seminars. Given Kern’s skill for humorous and compelling presentation, a book about his life as a Potter scholar would be a fantastic read.

This review originally appeared in Gilbert!

The Pope and the Holocaust: Pius XII and the Secret Vatican Archives

The Pope and the Holocaust: Pius XII and the Secret Vatican Archives, by Michael Hesemann. Ignatius Press, 2022. 459 pages. Softcover, $19.95.

 

Of all of the twentieth-century popes, Pius XII is one of the most controversial, as for over sixty years, various figures from a wide swath of the political spectrum have criticized his stance on his actions during the Holocaust, saying that he stayed silent for too long and did not do enough to protect Jewish people. In response, other historians have argued that Pius XII’s record was smeared by the Soviets in the postwar era, and point to numerous examples to proclaim that Pius did as much as he could to help Jewish people, and spoke out as much as he could within the confines of a highly combustible geopolitical situation.

 

This book was released around the same time as David I. Kertzer’s The Pope at War, which was much more critical of Pius XII. Kertzer’s book received far more media attention upon its release than Hesemann’s, and while Kertzer believed that the demonization of Pius XII’s actions were too strong, he also believed that the pope deserved a certain amount of censure for not doing more sooner. For his part, Hesemann has some harsh words for Kertzer’s previous book, the Pulitzer-winning The Pope and Mussolini, criticizing Kertzer’s analysis and arguments. Looking at reviews of both books, people’s opinions of these works tend to be affected by their previous inclinations to condemn Pius XII or defend him, and people on differing sides of the historiographical debate are ready to accuse the opposing historians and their fans of cognitive bias and of overlooking critical evidence.

 

Indeed, there’s a lot more evidence today than there was just a decade ago. Grzegorz Gorny and Janusz Rosikon’s Vatican Secret Archives (reviewed in Gilbert! about a year ago) explained how a huge amount of formerly sealed files from the WWII were now being released, and that the historical consensus of Pius XII would likely be in flux as different historians brought their own perspectives to each topic, wrote their books, and debated their perspectives on the world intellectual stage.

 

Hesemann’s book draws heavily upon newly released sources, and paints a picture of Pius XII as an outspoken opponent of everything Hitler stood for long before he became pope, and argues that even some of his most controversial moves were the best that could be done in a terrible situation. Hesemann’s work is readable, well-organized, and interesting, and at places he makes it clear how his work reflects information found in newly released documents. His arguments are easy to follow, and he frequently voices his opinions on previous scholarship.  This is a fine book for people who are just starting to study this subject, but as it mentions so many earlier books, it might help to familiarize oneself with some other works before reading this book if one is not aware of the historiographical debate. If one is well-versed and interested in this subject, then Hesemann’s work should be a must-read.

 

The Pope and the Holocaust is not likely to end the historiographical debate over the actions of Pius XII anytime soon, but it certainly a significant voice in the developing research over this issue, which is likely to generate controversy for decades to come, especially as more and more files are released from the Vatican Archives, and debated by scholars. Hesemann’s work is not going to quell the dissension, but it is going to be an important resource for people studying this topic, and it will be interesting to see how different scholars react and expand upon his work in the years to come. 

This review originally appeared in Gilbert Magazine.

The Thrill of the Chaste

 The Thrill of the Chaste, by Dawn Eden.  Nashville, Tennessee: W Publishing Group, 2006.  224 pages, Softcover, $13.99.

 

“Some are born chaste, some achieve chastity, and some have chastity thrust upon them...” This variation of the famous line from Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night illustrates the different ways that people can be excluded from a society permeated by the “sexual revolution.” Dawn Eden’s book The Thrill of the Chaste is about achieving a chaste lifestyle, and with a little luck this manifesto will spark a revolution of its own. 

Part memoir, part self-help guide, The Thrill of the Chaste provides a joyous rebuttal to a culture obsessed with sex. Eden, a journalist who writes and blogs about issues ranging from rock music to politics to biomedical ethics, is a longtime friend of Gilbert Magazine, having previously given an interview about her discovery of Chesterton and subsequent conversion to Christianity. She was unceremoniously fired from her job at the New York Post for defending the rights of the unborn, but thankfully the ensuing media coverage of her dismissal led to a new job and a book deal.

The Thrill of the Chaste alternates between Eden’s musings on how abstinence builds character and snippets from her personal life. The autobiographical scenes are beautifully and humorously written, swiftly gaining the reader’s sympathy and admiration. Some of the best parts of the book are the scenes that discuss heart-wrenching breakups with unflinching honesty, coupled with musings on how Eden uses these unpleasant experiences to determine what she truly wants out of a relationship. Her anecdotes are told with such wry wit and pathos that one hopes that she follows up this book with a full autobiography. The passages that focus on her adoption of Christian sexual ethics draw heavily on her personal experience, allowing her defense of chastity to be heartfelt rather than preachy as she sets about demolishing Helen Gurley Brown’s legacy.

This book is geared for adults, but parents will find it an invaluable resource for teaching their children about the emotional dangers of sex outside of marriage.  Eden hits the central problem of sex education today right on the head. It doesn’t work just to say that young people should not engage in sex “because it’s wrong,” the arguments for abstention have to approach the topic from a perspective that argues that “it’s wrong because…” For some unknown reason, the prospect of burning in hell for eternity is not as effective a deterrent as one might think. An effective argument for chastity has to explain why whatever feelings of pleasure unsanctified intercourse might provide, they are far outweighed by the ways that the “it’s just sex” mentality can leave people bereft and unfulfilled.

One of the largest hurdles towards advancing the virtues of a chaste lifestyle is the widespread dichotomy that people who engage in wanton sex are mentally healthy and “sexually liberated,” whereas people who abstain are “sexually repressed,” and only refrain due to some unresolved neurosis. Eden brilliantly illustrates how what is commonly defined as “liberation” is really a kind of enslavement, since in order to participate in this lifestyle, one as to set up all sorts of emotional and psychological barricades, the likes of which were very difficult for her to overcome. Similarly, by presenting the happiness and self-respect she gained from chastity, she punctures the lie that abstinence is unnatural and unhealthy.

Another interesting point arising from this book is Eden’s exploration of why many advocates of sex outside of marriage are so hostile those who choose to abstain.  After all, so many of them cry out “don’t judge me!” when someone criticizes their actions, but as Eden demonstrates, many of these people do not hesitate to cast criticism and aspersions upon the chaste. Perhaps, as Eden suggests, to defend their own actions they have to denigrate the alternative. Another possibility lies in the fact that today’s culture is permeated by consumerism. Oscar Wilde once said sunsets are not valued because they cannot be paid for, and likewise, it seems like chastity is not valued today because there is no money to be made from it. Eden’s book shows that “free love” isn’t free.

Eden frequently expresses her irritation with the attitudes popularized in the television show Sex In the City, a series that glorifies frequent intercourse with people whose names one can’t remember in the morning and taking out a mortgage to buy shoes that the average woman cannot walk four feet in without stumbling. It would be amazing if some adventurous television producer were to develop a show based on Eden’s life that advocates her morals. But that’s not likely to happen.

This review first ran in the magazine Gilbert! https://www.chesterton.org/gilbert/

Mystery of the Magi: The Quest to Identify the Three Wise Men

Mystery of the Magi: The Quest to Identify the Three Wise Men.  By Dwight Longenecker, Regnery History, 2017.

 

Every Christmas, Christians see manger scenes featuring three wise men, and the Christmas carol “We Three Kings” is sung regularly.  It’s widely accepted that three monarchs visited the manger where Jesus was born, and that they rode in on camels, were of diverse ethnic backgrounds and homelands, and were named Balthasar of Arabia, Melchior of Persia, and Gaspar of India.

 

But is this depiction of the past historically accurate?  In Mystery of the Magi, Fr. Dwight Longenecker argues that much of what the faithful think they know about the Magi is based primarily on legend and folklore.  The Biblical information on the Magi is comparatively meager, and it’s necessary to delve into existing historical evidence in order to figure out what really happened.  

 

In his opening pages, Fr. Longenecker writes:

 

“In the midst of secular Christmas, with Frosty the Snowman and Santa, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Bing Crosby dreaming of a white Christmas, we want the wonderful story of the Christ child born in a stable, heralded by angels, honored by shepherds, and worshipped by kings who followed a star.

 

Even the most hardened cynics want to keep Christmas.  Despite the rise of casual unbelief, most of us want to hand the family Nativity set on to our children.  Hypocrites and agnostics, we still gather for church at that one time each year.  It may be far from our everyday lives, and we may not really believe, but many of us want to believe.  Even if we don’t, we want to hear again the story of the innocent mother and the faithful father.  Even if we have doubts, we want to hear about the angels singing to the shepherds and the sweet old story of the wise men who were enchanted by a miraculous star.

 

But is there any truth to it all?”

 

Throughout the book, Fr. Longenecker criticizes both skeptics who refuse to give any credence to the supernatural and the miraculous, as well as those individuals who have faith but refuse to view certain stories or events critically.  Fr. Longenecker dubs these people “believers with blinders,” suggesting that they act as if the slightest query over the veracity of any Christian story is a slippery slope towards angry unbelief.  Rather, Fr. Longenecker argues that rigid fundamentalist interpretations can blind religious people towards various important aspects of their faith. 

 

Observing how common presentations of the Magi have changed over the centuries, Fr. Longenecker notes that there are reasons why many critical Biblical scholars have rejected large portions, if not the entirety, of the Nativity story as mythical, writing that:

 

“The Christmas story has been cluttered up with so many customs, traditions, legends, and strange characters over the years that it’s difficult to imagine that any of it might be rooted in history.”

 

Yet the scholars who dismiss the story of the Magi following a star based on nothing more than folklore receive chiding from Fr. Longenecker for failing to do their homework on the real historical evidence behind the Magi story.  The narrative of the Magi varies widely from region to region and century to century.

 

“The fact of the matter is that facts matter.  If an event is historical, it is real, and if it is real, then it affects the rest of history.  If an event really happened, we have to pay attention and fit it into our vision of reality.  If we regard the Bible stories as fairy tales but then learn that they are historical, we are compelled to reconsider our understanding of history and the other claims of Christianity.

 

The problem is that when we are dealing with ancient stories, separating fact from fiction is rarely east.  History and fantasy get jumbled up together.  A good example is King Arthur.  Historians believe there probably was a real chieftain named Arthur who ruled some British tribes during the time of the Saxon invasions.  Who Arthur was, however, and how he lived and where Camelot was located are difficult to ascertain.  Furthermore, the historical Arthur is a far cry from the character in Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, Tennyson’s Idylls of the King, and T.H. White’s The Once and Future King– not to mention Disney’s animated Sword in the Stone or Monty Python and the Holy Grail.”

 

Over the course of the book, Fr. Longenecker finds ample evidence that there really were Magi– although the point that there were exactly three of them is never confirmed in the Bible.  The idea of there being three stems in part from the three gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, though there is no textual evidence that each Magi brought just one unique kind of gift.  Fr. Longenecker also explains that the common image of the Magi riding in on camels may be flawed– horses may be a more likely means of conveyance.  Contrary to the belief of many scholars, there is also hard evidence that a real astrological phenomenon occurred during this time.

 

At the heart of the book is a desire to find out the truth behind the Magi, which means that scholarship of dubious accuracy is particularly singled out for criticism.  Fr. Longnecker explains how much of mainstream Biblical scholarship has begun on shaky principles, writing that:

 

“Biblical scholars are not preachers.  They are not necessarily Christian believers.  Their task is the painstaking analysis of the ancient texts so that all of us can understand them better.  Biblical scholars therefore approach the gospels with the tools proper to literary, historical, archaeological, and linguistic research, building on the results of over one hundred years of detailed Biblical scholarship.  Like detectives, they sift through the Biblical texts and the other evidence in an attempt to discern what is historical in the stories and what is not.

 

The problem is that Biblical scholars often work under their own set of prejudices.  Assuming that miracles are impossible, they conclude that the supernatural elements of the gospel stories must be imaginary additions.  This bias infects everything they do.  If the believers with blinders assume that everything in the Bible stories must be true, the scholars and skeptics too often assume that everything in the Bible is false.

 

In fact, the truth lies somewhere in the middle, and one of the exciting things about exploring the story of the Magi is that we can embark on a fascinating adventure of discovery.  To do so we will take advantage of the strengths of both sides of the debate.  Assuming, like the believers, that the Bible stories are essentially historical and trustworthy, we will use the tools of the scholars to examine the text, study the elaborations, cut away what is legendary, and learn more about the context and history of the New Testament times.”

 

After reading this book, one is unlikely to ever listen to “We Three Kings” the same way ever again, nor is one likely to listen to the latest “debunking” of a major Bible story without turning a critical eye towards this new scholarship.

 

 

–Chris Chan

 

 

Why I Am Catholic (and You Should Be Too) & Conversion: Spiritual Insights Into an Essential Encounter With God

Why I Am Catholic (and You Should Be Too).  By Brandon Vogt, Ave Maria Press, 2017.

 

Conversion: Spiritual Insights Into an Essential Encounter With God.  By Fr. Donald Haggerty, Ignatius Press, 2017.

 

Why I Am Catholic (and You Should Be Too) and Conversion: Spiritual Insights Into an Essential Encounter With God are two different approaches to the same questions. What does it mean to be Catholic, what happens when one becomes Catholic, and what does it take to stay Catholic? Both are written to appeal to the reader’s intellect and soul although anecdotes, arguments, and in Vogt’s case, humor.

 

Brandon Vogt opens his book on Catholicism and conversion with the following autobiographical musings.

 

“Anything but Catholic.

Spirituality, great.  Religion, fine.  Attending church, maybe.

But why in the world would anyone become Catholic today?  Isn't Catholicism a backward, intolerant, bigoted religion?  Isn't it run by pedophile priests and full of scandals?  Doesn't it degrade women and LGBT people and obsess about sex?  Isn't it plagued by pointless rules that stifle real faith?

I was not raised Catholic.  Some of my friends must have been Catholic growing up, but I never knew it.  I grew up in a Presbyterian church, which provided a warm community and great formation.  Yet like many young people, the life of faith never took root in me.  This was almost certainly my fault, not the church's.

As a teenager, I probably would have identified as "spiritual but not religious."  But then in college at Florida State, while studying mechanical engineering, I fell in with a Methodist group on campus, which dramatically affected my faith.  I found a deep, vibrant community that welcomed me in.  They weren't afraid of hard questions, and they exposed me to the fascinating world of the Bible.  I started praying on my own and began devouring books about God and faith and philosophy.

But then, as a twenty-year-old senior with a budding faith, and on the cusp of graduating, getting married, and starting a new engineering job, I did something few people could fathom, something that didn't fit with all those other sensible decisions: I became Catholic.

To say friends and family were surprised would be a vast understatement.  Most were profoundly confused, and remain so.  Though I've discussed it often, trying to explain what led me into the Church, it's still hard for people to understand how a young man with an apparently well-functioning brain would not only look favorably on an institution such as the Catholic Church but also actually choose to join it.”

Vogt’s book is deeply personal. It touches upon themes of family, logic, courage, and going against the flow. It’s a consistently upbeat book– there is no browbeating or anger in the prose, just warmth, happiness, and encouragement. Vogt comes across as a man whose life has been deeply enriched by his faith, and that he now seeks to spread his happiness and purpose by sharing the sources of that jot with as many other people as he can find.

Throughout the book, Vogt stresses that being a faithful Catholic generally means distancing oneself from the popular and prevalent trends of the time.  I should mention that Vogt’s description of the hostility towards Catholicism (and the respect for other religions one might consider embracing) in the introduction is far from universal. It’s certainly common enough, but it’s also just one experience.

 

In his introduction, Vogt writes:

 

“Choosing to be Catholic is provocative.  It's countercultural.  It's literally the opposite direction our culture is going.  The Pew Research Center completed a massive, national religious study, surveying more than thirty thousand Americans, which found that exactly half (50 percent) of millennials who were raised Catholic no longer call themselves Catholic today.  That's massive attrition.  Half of young Catholics have already left the Church (with more likely following in the future).  That explains why "former Catholic" continues to be one of America's largest religious groups.

The study also found that roughly 80 percent of people who left the Catholic Church have left before age twenty-three.  These aren't lifelong Catholics who stay on the fence for decades before drifting away.  They're young people, people in high school or college, or young adults — people the same age I was when I chose to become Catholic.”

Often, Vogt draws upon the intellectual influences that shaped his spiritual journey.  The works of G.K. Chesterton are chief among them.

 

“It's easy to swim downstream, to accept the status quo.  What's hard is to be a rebel, to look with fresh eyes on something most people reject and say, "What if they're mistaken?  What if 'anything but Catholic' should perhaps be 'what else but Catholic'?"

These same questions struck G. K. Chesterton.  He was one of the most popular and prolific English journalists of the early twentieth century, writing more than a hundred books and more than five thousand essays, and lecturing all over the globe.  But in 1922, he stunned the world by announcing his conversion to the Catholic Church.  Friends and family were just as confused as mine were almost a century later.  They thought this normally straight mind had gone horribly off the rails, asking him accusingly, "Why would you become Catholic?"

Chesterton replied, as was his wont, with an essay.  He titled it, plainly, "Why I Am a Catholic," and he began it by saying, "The difficulty of explaining why I am a Catholic is that there are ten thousand reasons all amounting to one reason: that Catholicism is true."

In contrast to Vogt’s ebullient work, Fr. Haggerty’s book Conversion is less colloquial, but full of comparably strong insights into the nature of conversion and maintaining one’s faith. There are many references to the fact that one’s faith must not be allowed to become complacent or repetitive. At one point, Fr. Haggerty mentions Pope John Paul II’s dictum that priest must strive not to fall into the trap of treating their duties like those of being an office clerk. Otherwise, the prayers and duties of the vocation become mere tedium, missing the power that comes from the zeal of a burning faith. It’s not exactly clear what a better comparison would be, perhaps a soldier in a never-ending battle would be a more ideal standard, or perhaps a relief worker or medic in a disaster area.

 

Fr. Haggerty writes:

 

“The aftermath of a conversion is as significant as the conversion itself.  The soul’s response to grace in this period after a conversion has a crucial impact on later life.  It is one thing to be a prodigal son who returns to his father after coming to his senses and repenting.  It is another thing to open one’s eyes fully to the new life that beckons in the glowing sunrise of a recent conversion.  The recovery of grace is always only a first step toward a discovery of immense possibilities in a life with God.”

 

Both of these books do an excellent job of encouraging their readers to find a lasting faith in the Catholic Church.  Neither writer ignores a very potent truth: faith can be vital, but it’s rarely easy.

 

 

(More information about Why I Am Catholic and supplementary resources can be found at https://whycatholicbook.com/get-book.)

 

 

–Chris Chan