It is amazing to me that someone as brilliant as Pope Benedict XVI could produce an encyclical letter that was so incredibly uneven as Caritas in Veritate. This letter has managed to infuriate liberals and theological conservatives alike.
I finished the encyclical last night and found myself scratching my head at the inconsistencies, wondering if Benedict had relied more on a committee to construct this work than on his own thought.
I was going to write a piece on this and then found two great articles that summarize the problem quite well.
The first is by Catholic theologian George Weigel. Here's the link:
The second was sent to me by a parishioner. This is probably the most coherent critique of the encyclical and here is the link to it:
It strikes me as a great pity that Benedict, whose first two encyclicals on faith and hope were outstanding, would close out the triad with a dissapointing effort.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Mesa Bravo, our "Big Boy", died peacefully this evening at home in Mimi's and my arms. He was 11 and a half years old.
Bravo was a grade A racer at three different tracks, Flagler, Derby Lane, and Jefferson County Kennel Club. He won 19 races and finished in the money over 60 times in his career.
He was retired in the fall of 2002 and brought to the Southeastern Greyhound Club Kennel in Acworth.
One Saturday, a friend of ours in the Greyhound Club told me that there was a fantastic boy greyhound at the kennel if I was interested. The next day, I drove up to Acworth after church to help out with kennel maintenance. I walked up to Bravo's run and was immediately face-to-face with a beautiful red/gold-brindle and white boy who weighed about 85 pounds and was tall enough to pet without stooping. I took him out to do his business while his kennel was cleaned and on returning I sat down in the big overstuffed chair. Bravo came up to me and put a paw by each hip and then buried his head in my chest. Bravo had found a home and I had found my "Big Boy."
His transition to the house had some amusing moments. He and Magic our first greyhound got into a territory marking contest that ended with a humiliated Magic wearing a diaper and Bravo in a belly-band.
Weeks after Bravo had acclimated to the house, I was lying in bed on a Saturday morning when Bravo jumped up and plopped down on the bed. He was soon asleep, with his eyes rolled back in his head and his breathing slow and steady. He had never been in a bed before. We stayed like this for about an hour and a half before I had to get up. A little while later, Mimi got in the bed and called to me, "Honey, did you spill a glass of water in the bed?" I had not. Bravo, however, had become so relaxed that he emptied his bladder all over Mimi's side of the bed. Greyhounds are not familiar with our creature comforts.
Mimi gave Bravo to me as my Christmas gift in 2002. Bravo was the most beautiful dog that I have ever seen. He was sweet, smart, and incredibly loyal, always willing to protect his family. In December of last year, Bravo was severely bitten by a pit-bull and his injury was made much worse because he spent most of his effort shielding me from the dog.
He developed bone cancer about two months ago, although it was finally diagnosed in early July. He remained reasonably comfortable to the end.
Mimi and I will shed many tears for Bravo, but the tears will be more than outweighed by the wonderful memories of this majestic, loyal, loving greyhound. We will see him in heaven.
The picture is of Bravo and daughter Melanie, taken when she was 12 and Bravo had just come into our home.