Arete

Within my first month in the US, I went to a friend’s wedding were former college mates, along with their spouses and families, were congregated. I, of course, was asked what I was doing and what I planned to do. I felt so ashamed that someone finally answered for me. Why had I not settled down and started a career or family? Friends in medical school advised me to simply find a job, warning me of the difficulty and sacrifice involved in medicine.
After being in the US for a few months, however, the enormity of these past four years is slowly sinking in. The gravity of what I am now after is also becoming more apparent. And I am energized by it.
In the ancient Greek culture, arête was the end of human aspiration: it was pursuit of reaching fullest potential; mentally, physically, and spiritually. It was not comfort, nor wealth, but a struggle for the ultimate good, for excellence in life, and for continuous growth.
I finished the summer Chemistry courses successfully and am now preparing to begin physics, organic chemistry, and biology for the fall. I am thinking about different medical schools, building community here in Sioux Falls, strengthening bonds with family members, and seeking spiritual growth. I try to do most of this on bike…… no I’m not after the American dream. Nothing could be closer to a premature casket for me. What is the aim? Arete.

Give an Account

Faith
Last night, my housemates and I were watching a rare television show (the first for me this summer) and the topic turned to the child abuse perpetrated by priests. Inwardly, I cringed as I anticipated the inevitable —“Sarah, what do rational, ethical Catholics think about this?” I fumbled for an answer that I did not have, wishing that I could vaporize under the chair.
The question has many forms, many topics, but can be expressed by Elton John “Imagine no religion—the world would be so wonderful, the world would be as one”….. wouldn’t it? At times, I wonder if I am making a grave assault on all of humanity by being religious, and I know that, to some people, I am.
I have to give an answer, a reason for my hope. I am religious; I am a person who has faith. I am, of sorts, a spiritual addict who would find “quitting” ultimately devastating. Am I merely ingesting the opium of the masses? You may think so.
I am spiritual because I believe that life’s purpose cannot be found in material acquisition, sexual prowess, and power. I am spiritual because I am a seeker. I am seeking beauty and truth. I am seeking personal “set apartness” a set of values and a way of living that defies my culture’s aspirations. I have faith in purpose beyond my biological cells, and yes, in a great unknowable, uncreated being beyond my definitions.
My faith is found in and focused upon the person of Jesus. He challenges me to value the people that no one else sees—and to find the value in my own brokenness. Jesus speaks of charity, that the good Samaritan was truly good because he assisted someone with a different worldview and mindset from his own—without trying to change him. Jesus takes the woman at the well and addresses the core of her being. Instead of dismissively accepting her lifestyle, he addressed what she was seeking through her series of broken relationships; a sustaining renewal.

Jesus ultimately suffered and died. He, by all measures of “normality” and “the American dream” was a complete failure. In the bread and wine, he teaches me the value of a life given, the beauty of grapes bruised and fermented instead of the fast and sweet that my culture loves.
Corruption exists now in the Church as it has existed in religious organizations throughout history. Jesus was killed by religious leaders. Jesus was betrayed by a corrupt person in his own group. I am religious, however, because of hope. Yes, in the search for beauty and truth; in mass and in Eucharistic adoration; there have been priests who committed the unthinkable. This is condoned by no one, least of all faithful church members. The harshest words of Christ were for those who offended children. Hope believes that beauty and truth still exists, even when rottenness and lies are found. Hope is affirmed by the fact that church leaders must face appropriate judicial processes, seeing the renewing effect of exposure and change.
Contrast the suffering servant who lived in poverty and died in shame with Lucifer. Lucifer was the leader of angelic music, called the morning star, prince of angels, exceeding in beauty and light. Through pride he fell, becoming the embodiment of evil. The dark side of faith, then, is very real, very dangerous. As with love, hate and heartbreak on it’s heels, faith is neither comfortable or a guaranteed good. Arrogance, entitlement, and privilege, all threaten to bring the Church to ruin. This is why I am glad to be challenged. I am glad my faith is not one of society’s norm, but one that is threatened, and forced into examination. I hope my faith will come out pure, refined; gold.